Rules: List the first line of your last 10 fics and see if there’s a pattern!
WHOOPS sorry @onetwistedmiracle this took me a billion years (9 days) to do, the passage of time is simply not real to me. See twisted's post here and read her stuff, it's good. I will follow her lead and also pic ten fics that I wrote by myself, just to try and keep things easier lol
I'm bad at tagging people because this account is a side blog and I really only talk to twisted on it (is this an invitation to talk to me? Maybe! But please don't be offended if it takes me 9 days to reply), but if you want to examine your own writing style, consider this a lazy tag.
The last ten fics I wrote were for Critical Role and Star Wars (I miss you Check! Please, eventually I work work more on mine and twisted's collab fic and see you again)
1: You could be the one that I love, And now I'm standin' here, hopin' it gets to you
Molly had the feeling that so long as Caleb Widogast’s hand was on the small of his back, he could do anything.
Part 9 in my Molly/Caleb/Essek threesome fic, spicy but they're IN LOVE. I do love to start with a character thought/name.
2: I'm in new territory, somehow, it kinda feels like home
“What?” Padme said, her voice feeling hollow in her own chest.
A rare gen fic for me, I usually write explicit, but this was a fun prequel AU because I love to turn tragedies into opportunities. I also love to start with dialogue, just get RIGHT into things. It's also a short sentence, idk why.
3: Oh, if it's real, if it's sweet
“I’ve made a mistake,” Anakin said, and Luke sighed.
Another teen rating, can you believe I built my AO3 page on writing porn? More dialogue, I just think it's funny. And a short sentence!
4: Wherever you are, we are seeing the same stars
The day after Anakin left, Shmi almost sold C-3PO.
Surprise, it's dialogue AND a short sentence. Am I a two-trick pony? Maybe! Check out this kick flip!
5: Feeling like a face in the crowd
What Molly liked most about Essek and Caleb’s house—besides the fact that they lived in it and he, like, loved them—was just how many nooks and crannies it had.
This is the longest starting sentence thus far, maybe the longest starting sentence ever for one of my fics LOL I usually leave the run-ons for a third of the way through. And it's not dialogue! Shocker! This is also part 8 of my threesome purple wizard series, so the foundation has been laid and I could get a little weird with it?
6: All we got is us now
Ahsoka hadn’t spent a lot of time with Leia Organa.
We're back on the short train with a character driven statement. This is also part 5 of my pretty places series, so, again, there could be something to the already established aspect of it, or nothing at all!
7: Look how you made me
“Jester has questions,” Fjord said with a sigh.
Dialogue, but this time it's not from the POV character. I'm not doing a very good job analyzing things, but I am having a good time.
8: A message in a bottle is all I can do, Standin' here, hopin' it gets to you
Caleb Widoghast and Essek Thelyss lived very different lives from Mollymauk Tealeaf.
Character driven thought! Writing is hard, okay, and you gotta start somewhere. Definitive statements and dialogue are nice jumping off points.
9: I'm reaching for you
The first time Molly had sex with Caleb and Essek, he called himself an Uber right after.
This one is earlier on in the threesome series; timeline-wise it's like...the second story? 1.5 technically, since it happens mid first story? But I wrote it fifth, so. Establishment theory does or doesn't gain traction here, I don't think I know what I'm saying anymore.
10: 'Cause you could be the one that I love, I could be the one that you dream of
“What’re you thinking about?” Caleb asked, drawing his thumb across Molly’s temple, winding a purple curl between his fingers.
And we're back on our dialogue train! Dialogue starters, my beloved.
I don't know that we (I) learned anything, but it was fun to wander back through my most recent fics. Hopefully this will inspire me to write more fanfiction, but right now I am DEEP in the trenches of my own dungeons and dragons character, so. It's gonna be a minute.
Summary: Inspiration strikes during Mudcrutch's journey to California in 1974. Extremely loosely based on Mike's song of the same name.
Word Count: 600+
Warnings: N/A
A/N: This is pretty much set on the night they stayed in Tulsa, I just took the liberty of giving the guys separate hotel rooms (hey I'm sure Denny could afford that for them if he wanted to). Guess which one we're in 😁
As always, feedback / comments make a writer's day 🙏
Lines have a way of appearing out of thin air sometimes. All the best ones do at least. Mike took one look at you, so at peace where you'd fallen asleep on his shoulder, and it hit him. It was crystal clear.
Home is a state of mind
He started to reach for his notebook on the nightstand and stopped. It wasn't any good. Was it? Tommy was the writer. Tommy could say it better. Still, it nagged at him - alone with you in that hotel room in Tulsa. It felt important.
Somehow it explained the way he felt around you. How else could he put it, really? With Florida gone, California ahead, and the simple knowledge of change in the air. It was happening fast. They were crazy, the band and everyone else who followed them there. Even you - crazy as the dust storm outside was. They’d never seen anything like it.
None of that seemed to matter once you were in that room together. Alone. Playing cards, writing stories, watching sleepless time go by. There was something in your smile that got to him. It always did. He would have done anything to see it. So naturally he threw popcorn at you from across the room, where you’d sent him away in good natured fun. He knew you’d retaliate. Of course you did. That alone, maybe, is what home should feel like.
You were sitting cross legged in front of him, plucking pieces of popcorn out of his hair, when he stole the first of many kisses that night.
“Oh you’re welcome,” you said, a joke as if it was in silent thanks to you. But maybe it was. For being there, for believing in him, and yes, for helping with his hair whether you caused it or not.
Once again, words escaped him, as they always seemed to do. So he kissed you again, hands warm on your knees and hesitant to go much further. It was love, your time together. Slow as it'd been to get that far, it had to be. Love had always been there.
Through more than two years of friendship and one reluctant confession before this trip began. Was the mutual admiration obvious by then? Of course it was. The real wonder was why it took so long to tell you that.
Your very first kiss happened soon after he told you, in a town that would never be called home again. A moment of relief in a cold night and half a moon hung in the sky. Perfect confirmation that his words meant something. They mean something.
So he started for the notebook again, very careful not to wake you, and wrote it down. The line didn't look so bad on paper. Not at all, despite perpetually messy handwriting made worse by attempted stealth. He didn't know how endearing you found his handwriting to be back then. Even when you'd tease him. He wouldn't understand how much you loved everything about him for a long time.
As for the line, those six words scribbled in darkness in the middle of the night. It would become a song. A great one. Just, not yet. Not that night, not the next day either. Not in years. But it would.
For now the notebook was placed back on the nightstand so he could hold you a little closer and kiss the top of your head. How he got so lucky, he didn't know. To have you then; to know he’d be needed in a real studio by morning. It was all so different.
In it, sleep too far out of reach. There wasn’t a chance. At least, that's what he thought before he closed his eyes. But you were there. And you wanted to love him back. You really did. It was all he wanted for so long.
Maybe that could be enough, because sleep did come - just in knowing you were there. It was a familiar feeling, the last he could have until morning.
Home can be anywhere. Anything. In that moment, it was you.
Maybe it'd always been you.
Tags: my taglist is extremely out of date so I'm starting from scratch. pls don't hesitate to ask to be added for everything I write or just for specific people
@thebomb-diggity I don't remember if I sent this one to you??? asjklsdf but you might like 💛
Rockin’ Around (With You)
Tom Petty x Mike Campbell
Summary: Tom sets out to write a song with Mike for the first time. It ends up saying much more than he was originally expecting it to.
Word Count: 625
Warnings: N/A
A/N: oh my gosh this has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER I’m not sure if I’m “back” yet but I’m trying
I’d like to specially thank @thewildoneforever70s for being so patient with me while I was struggling to write. Your understanding means so much 🥺 I really hope you like this m’dear 💛 Thank you for the idea
Tom sat at his kitchen table with a notebook and a plan. He was going to finish the song Mike brought into the studio earlier that day. Of all the places he could have gone to work, there should have been the least amount of distractions there. He’d opened the window and set out to write nearly forty-five minutes ago. The pages in that notebook were still blank. He’d gotten absolutely nowhere. For forty-five minutes. Instead of writing he sat there with his head in the clouds. Thinking. Just tapping his pen on the table, and thinking. No lyrics came.
He wanted to finish this song more than anything he’d written before. If only he could get himself to focus.
Tom was putting too much pressure on himself to make the song perfect. He was writing with Mike, finishing this for Mike. It was going to be special, and he was determined to keep it that way. That mindset hurt the process more than it helped.
Eventually he sighed, put the pen down, and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t about to give up, he’d never do that. He just needed to find something to write about. That’d always been the hardest part.
So he lit a cigarette and thought more. About what? Mike mostly. About how badly he didn’t want this song to fail; about how he’d be damned to let his friend down. But it was more than just that. He thought about the way Mike smiled at him when he took the demo and said he’d write some words to it. He was feeling something. It was becoming a familiar thing, that feeling, only stronger the longer they worked together. Therein lies his biggest distraction.
A dog started barking somewhere outside. Tom barely heard it. He shook his head and picked up the pen again. Focus. The lyrics he needed so much still weren’t coming. No, his mind was stuck elsewhere. Tom was still thinking about Mike when he put the pen to paper and scrawled one lonely sentence.
I can’t stop thinking about how I dig rockin’ around with you
He read it over. Once, twice, three times. He was just about to cross it out but - wait. He read it over again. That wasn’t too bad.
The line seemed to come out of nowhere. All the best ones usually do. And best of all, it was true.
So he thought about Mike more. About that strange little feeling he got when they were together. It was comforting. It was reliable. They came to understand each other better than anyone else could ever know. And suddenly distraction became inspiration.
You got me, babe
I got you
Once that inspiration struck, it was easy to work out the rest of the lyrics and string them together. It may have been a simple song but, deep down, it really meant a lot.
Tom brought the song back completed the next day, in high hopes Mike would know that. In higher hopes Mike was feeling the same way. Everything he should have said by then found its way into those lyrics. It felt good to finally get it out.
There was only one thing left for Tom to say. One little sentence said to Mike in passing just before they brought the song to the rest of the guys. He didn’t quite realize the weight of it until after the fact - after the song was finished and put aside to work on something else. The two of them shared a look from across the room. No one else noticed, knew, or cared. Mike knew exactly what Tom meant in what he said before they started recording:
Summary: A chance meeting with a mysterious photographer in the park. “She looked at him and he felt a spark”
Word Count: 800+
Warnings: just some flirting
A/N: I’m experimenting a bit so this is a little different than what I’m used to writing. I started this months ago and finally got around to finishing it! I really love how it turned out and thought it would be worth sharing 💛 Like always, I’d really appreciate feedback if y’all have any! It makes a writer’s day 🙏
He sat in the shade, a shadow of an oak tree in the park, and he watched her work. What were the odds, seeing her there with her long raven hair and those dark mysterious eyes. They’d only met once before. A woman like that isn’t easy to forget. She snapped photos of the people and the scenery the same way she’d snapped pictures of him just a week before. The length of her burgundy skirt swayed just above her ankles in the same breeze that blew her hair away from her face. That face was familiar. One could say they knew each other. Almost.
He hadn’t approached her yet, but she recognized the moody outcast sitting alone on that aged park bench the moment she saw him. The shade was nearly as inviting as the company on a long hot day like this. So with her camera in her hand and the sun in her eyes, she crossed the grass into the shade.
“So,” she said as she plopped her slender frame on the opposite side of the bench. “Which Dylan am I getting today, hmm?” She said it with a playful smirk, a joke in lieu of a formal hello.
He liked that about her a week ago, enough to invite her back to his hotel. An offer she half declined with a mysterious little wink before she waved goodbye. Maybe next time.
This time he didn’t so much as crack a smile for her, choosing instead to light a cigarette and sneer at the remark. “It’s just me.”
“You and I both know that could mean anything.” She turned to face him, slinging an arm across the back of the bench. “Or anyone.”
He studied her, icy blue stare blunted by a pair of wayfarer sunglasses.
She stared back with her dark brown eyes and waited for a response. What she got was a resigned sigh as he sunk further into the bench and closed his eyes. She was different. He noticed it the week before. The woman on the other side of this beat up bench had an ability to see people. Really see them. He knew she was right. So much for charm and anonymity. For all his wit and all his stories, she wouldn’t believe a word of it - she never did.
He snuck one eye open only to find her attention was far from him anymore. Something must have caught her eye in the distance. She was faced forward, camera poised and ready to take what must have been the hundredth photo of the day. He sat up and watched as her delicate fingers cradled the camera and took the shot. That was when he noticed she was wearing a ring. Surely he’d notice if she were wearing that when they flirted as strangers the week before. Wouldn’t he?
“You have your secrets too,” he said. “Don’t you?”
She laughed at that. “You can't hide yourself from a camera, y'know.” She placed the device in her lap and turned to face him again. “You think you can - with your fancy outfits and your expensive shades - but a good camera sees who you really are. Catches your soul and puts it on film.” She leaned forward, searching for some sort of understanding from the enigma before her. Something to let her know he was following. “You ask me if I have secrets? I want you to ask yourself this. Would someone without them fight so hard to live behind one of these -” she gently tapped the camera resting on her lap “- instead of in front of it?”
It was his turn to laugh. It was dry, ever critical. “Plenty of people in showbiz are phony.”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “Pretty easy to tell now isn’t it?”
“Is it really that easy for you?”
He sat up and leaned forward, his turn to seek out a response from the dark haired lady in front of him. She didn’t budge, not even when he got close enough to notice flecks of gold swimming in the deep brown of her eyes. It was an outright refusal to be intimidated. She was beautiful; she was brave. If he learned nothing else about her, he could say he admired that.
“I want to know more about you,” he said.
She laughed at that too. He could swear his heart skipped a beat. There was an unfamiliar feeling there. One he hadn’t felt in years.
“I’ll tell you what -” She stood and smoothed the wrinkles of her skirt. “Get to know yourself again first. Without all.. this.” She raised her hand and gestured vaguely toward him - his attitude, his unwillingness to get close to people.
Her sandals barely made a sound in the grass as she began to walk away. He was still watching her carefully as she stepped out of the shade. In the sunlight, his mysterious lady turned around to eye him one last time. She had a different beauty in the sun - untouchable. Dark eyes lighter and streaks of purple in her flowing hair.
“Come find me when you’re ready.” She winked and walked away.
It Couldn't Have Been That Easy To Forget About Me
It Couldn't Have Been That Easy To Forget About Me
Tom Petty x ofc
Summary: Tom tries to process a lost love. The best songs always seem to come when they’re least expected to.
Word Count: 600+
Warnings: ✨angst✨
A/N: This is something I wrote a long time ago, I finally got myself to fix it up and post! It’s very loosely based on Even The Losers, tied with a hint of Fleetwood Mac’s song Tango In The Night (which I was listening to a lot around the time I wrote this) As always, let me know what you think! Feedback is very much appreciated 🤗 enjoy!
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It started on the brink of summertime, just before the days grew long and the nights stayed warmer. She drove a ‘67 Chevy with black leather seats and a trunk full of camping supplies. She lived her life in that car. The rundown apartment he found her living in was never really a home to her.
Tom wanted to take her in; he wanted to take care of her. If only she would have let him.
Instead he sat on the beach alone that night, wondering where she could have gone and why she ran away. The days were growing shorter again. Leaves fell to the ground and the night was cold and lonely there in the sand. He listened to the wind on the water and watched as the waves crashed on the shore.
The moon was nearly full - a spotlight in the sky to shine down on a broken world full of lonely people. He noticed those sort of things now. She would have loved that. Only now, he was one of them.
Just a month before, they’d taken her car and parked it in an abandoned field to sit on the hood and stargaze. He remembered it so well; the way she stared in wonder at the night sky. She could have talked for hours about the beauty of it all. He remembered thinking the most beautiful sight that night was her. So he kissed her on the hood of that car, in the middle of a dark empty field in August. And the way she kissed him back... that was something he could never forget.
A gust of wind blew his hair into his face and pulled him away from his thoughts. He brushed it away with one hand and pulled his jacket closed with the other. It was getting too cold to sit there any longer. And he was exhausted. It seemed weeks of sleepless nights were finally beginning to catch up with him. He took one last look at the moon and wondered if she was looking at it too.
It was difficult for him to stand up and walk through the sand. It’s true that sadness feels like a weight, and the amount of cigarettes he went through did nothing but make him feel weak against the subtle wind.
Someplace across the beach, the breeze picked up a crumpled up slip of paper. It blew across his path like a tumbleweed. With it came the same surge of sickness he’d been feeling since she ran away. It looked too much like the note she’d left at his doorstep.
“I can’t do this anymore,” it read. “I’m sorry.” Big block letters against a pastel pink background. It was the last he would ever hear from her. Still, deep down, he always hoped she’d change her mind.
Tom couldn’t sleep again that night. He tossed and turned until the sheets were tangled. He thought about her until he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to do something to occupy his mind before he lost it completely.
So with guitar in hand, all those memories found their way into a song he never even set out to write. Maybe someday she’d hear it and know it was about her. That thought alone was enough to bring him some sort of peace.
Tom fell asleep at four in the morning. His notebook was seated on the nightstand, its pages now filled with thoughts and memories that had been keeping him up for weeks. He wasn’t content yet - he didn’t think he’d ever be - but it would do for then.
If he never knew anything else about her, at least he was right about one thing. She never could forget about him.
It’d been a long time since Tom could tour. Between the struggle of finishing his album and the time it took to recover from shattering his hand, he was more than enthusiastic to get out on the road again. It seemed only natural he’d want to bring you along - but sticking with him through such hard times earned you so much more than just a trip around the country with your boyfriend.
Word Count: 1500+
Warnings: fluff, marriage, implied smut (barely there but I’ll warn as always)
A/N: Wow it’s been a long, long time since I posted a fully written story! It seems like I’ve been blocked forever, but I really do feel good about this one. I hope y’all like it too 💛 and please don’t forget to leave feedback, it makes a writer’s day 🙏
Looking back, it’s amazing how well Tom managed to keep his secrets and carry on as if this were just any other tour - one he only happened to bring you along for. He owned the stage and press the same way he always had before. That’s why no one, not even you, saw anything coming.
It was a warm summer night in Las Vegas and Tom was on stage again - in his happy place and exactly where you’d expect him to be. Like always, he told the story of breaking his hand and relearning to play before launching into The Waiting. But something was different. It was so subtle, no one noticed. He took the slightest pause to glance in your direction backstage, and the rest of the show he had something on his mind.
Between the roar of the crowd and the adrenaline rush, it wasn’t uncommon for Tom to bound from the stage at the end of a show completely wired and unable to fall asleep until an ungodly hour in the morning. Sometimes it drove you crazy - but not this time. No, this time he dashed from the stage and straight into your arms. And he kissed you. Hard. In front of his entire band.
Now that wasn’t like him. He always wanted to save that for when he had you alone. But the other guys’ whistling and teasing seemed to snap him out of it long enough to grab your hand and drag you somewhere more private before wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you close again.
“Sorry,” he murmured before kissing you much more gently than before. “I’ve been wanting to do that for an hour.”
What had gotten into him, you didn’t really know. But you weren’t complaining. Not when he held on tight and kissed you again. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders just to feel him smile against your lips.
And when you finally broke apart long enough to breathe, he blurted something you never could have anticipated. Not hidden away backstage right after a show at least.
“Baby, let’s go get married.”
You took a small step back, dropping your hands to his chest in a useless attempt to stop your head from spinning. It seemed he always had a way to leave you wonderfully dizzy. But that - that one sentence was a lot to take in. “You mean that?”
He nodded, completely serious despite the boyish grin that was plastered to his face. “There’s a chapel a few miles away.”
There were so many things you could have said to that - a simple “are you insane?” holding the top of the list - but something was telling you to go. Just do it! Hadn’t you waited long enough?
So you raised an eyebrow. “And you’re really sure about this?”
He just smiled, one so wide you could see it in his eyes. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” And with his words came a soft laugh, as if it were absurd you had to ask him that. If he had even a shadow of a doubt, he hid it well. “Please marry me?”
Tom was still an absolute mess, flushed and messy haired from his workout on stage. But he was waiting for an answer, beaming and bouncing on the balls of his feet like a child on Christmas morning. Maybe this really was insane, but you trusted him. You loved him so damn much.
So it didn’t take long before you were running away together, hand in hand and into the rest of your lives. No rings, no plans, no second thoughts. And the best part was - no one else knew. It was something special meant only for you two. And honestly, what could have been more fitting for Tom than to hop offstage and get married by Elvis in the same night? Everything about it was perfect.
And as soon as you were back to your hotel room he swept you off your feet, carried you inside, and shut the door. You should have known the second he dropped you into bed, you wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon.
The next morning was lazy to say the least - spent sleeping in and cuddling up under the sheets without even the decency to put any clothes on. All was wonderful until one wrong move pulled the sheet down low enough to expose one of your shoulders. You mindlessly pulled it up again with your left hand, but the second Tom caught a glimpse of your ringless finger he let out a quiet, “Oh shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
He wasn’t regretting this was he?
“Just - nothing. Hang on.” He rolled away enough to rummage through a bag he had sitting on the nightstand. “I can’t believe I forgot.”
He said the last part more to himself than to you, but maybe you panicked too soon. He looked at you the way he used to look for stars when the moon was full and bright. Those were simpler times then, when you were new to loving each other and the perfect date was something easy as smoking cigarettes on your roof. That was before the years got hard. But you always had each other to lean on - maybe that’s how you managed to come out on top in spite of everything that tried to pull you down. You brought out the best in each other. And isn’t that what love is supposed to be about? Only now he was shaking his head as if whatever he’d forgotten held more significance than he was really letting on. Until he finally found it.
“Close your eyes.”
“No!” you laughed, startled out your thoughts but glad to be back in the moment with him. It was easy there.
“Please?”
He was already set on surprising you with something. Stubborn as he could be sometimes, you knew better than to fight that. So you did as you were told and shut your eyes.
You felt the bed shift before he took the hand you’d just used to pull the sheet up. Then you felt something small and cool slip onto your ring finger. And suddenly everything made sense.
You opened your eyes before he could tell you to, and there it was. The most beautiful diamond ring you’d ever seen. And it was yours.
There were about a million things you wanted to say but all that would come out was a choked, “Did you plan this?”
Maybe it was better that way. Maybe that was the only thing you could say to keep from bursting into tears.
“Well,” he started. “Not exactly.” As if anyone really plans to take off and elope in the middle of the night without even a bouquet of flowers. “But I’ve had this thing forever...”
He trailed off, taking your hand and running his thumb over the diamond before allowing the gaze he’d dropped ever so briefly to meet yours again.
“That’s why I wanted you on tour with us this time. I thought I could find some nice city or something - get down on bended knee.” He let out a short laugh. “Guess I got too excited.”
And maybe you got too excited too. Thinking back on the night before was a blur, but you remember being happy. In the end, isn’t that all that matters?
Then why did it feel so selfish?
You bit your lip. “You don’t regret the way this happened, do you?”
“No, not at all!” He shook his head and smiled. “Y’know when I broke my hand I thought I was done for. You got me through it. You’ve gotten me through so much really. I don’t think I could’ve married you fast enough.”
And even though that last comment could have come off as a joke, you knew him well enough to know that was just his way. He meant every word he said.
So you kissed him. Just once, very softly, but it was enough. You could tell by his thankful sigh and the way he pulled you closer to rest your head on his chest.
"I could say the same about you."
And you didn’t need him to tell you he already knew that. So you remained there in comfortable silence awhile, content in watching the light reflect from the ring as your fingers drew their mindless little patterns on his skin. Eventually you’d have to get up and face the rest of the day. You’d have to call your family and your friends; you’d have to tell them you ran off and married the love of your life without them there. Maybe they’d be upset - maybe they’d understand. It didn’t matter yet.
All that mattered was the late morning sunlight warming the room though the curtains and the way he held you tighter in his arms. All you needed to do was listen to his heartbeat and enjoy an easy morning in bed with your husband.
You were so happy there with him; life was just beginning to feel simple again. He kissed the top of your head and you closed your eyes. Everything else would just have to wait.
Summary: Moving to California with Mike could have been one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. A trip to the beach with him always reminds you of that.
Word Count: 700+
Warnings: all fluff!
A/N: This was my first time writing Mike!! And honestly, it was a blast! Especially because I love beaches so much myself. I’m very very proud of this one. Like always, hope y’all enjoy, and please don’t forget to leave feedback 💛
*gif not mine (special thanks to Naama for finding this gem, and for putting up with me even though I always need to calm down 👀)
The wind blew steady, and waves crashed on the sand at your feet. It didn’t matter how you got here, or where you were headed after. California was a dream you never knew you had, or knew you wanted.
Next to you stood the only person in the world who could convince you to move so far from your family with him. And this - this small moment in time right here - made you glad you did.
It was a challenge at first. The journey was, well, difficult to say the least. But you made it. No money, no job, no looking back. Mike had his band, you found little ways to make money here and there - it was working out. When Mudcrutch fell through, you thought it was over. Little did you know what was waiting just around the bend. It might have taken some time, but everything would be alright.
On the beach - a few years, a new house, and a miracle later - you felt at peace. You were supposed to be here.
A seagull landed a few feet away from you. It rummaged through the sand and found something shiny. It flew away with a glint of sunlight in its beak. You let out a sigh and watched it go.
“What’re you thinking about?” Mike snuck an arm around your waist and pulled you closer.
“Nothing,” you said, and giggled when he nuzzled into your neck. It wasn’t a lie. What was there to think about anyway? Thinking only brings too many worries.
The water was cold on your feet but the sun was still overhead. It wouldn’t be sunset for a few more hours. Somewhere in the distance, a child was carrying a bucket of water to her parents. It sloshed over the sides as she walked, leaving a trail much more noticeable than her little sandals would. Later on, her big brother would help her build a sandcastle.
Another couple was taking a walk along the shore. They were hand in hand, moving slow and watching the waves just like you were. Two strangers with stories of their own - but you felt like you knew them. They waved as they passed by. You waved back and smiled. The one with the bleach blonde hair pointed at Mike and winked at you. “Good choice,” that wink seemed to say. You’d never seen them before. You’ll never see them again.
Somebody somewhere had fallen asleep stretched out on their beach towel. They'd be leaving later horribly sunburned. It was easy to spot the first-time tourists that way. They hadn't learned better yet.
“Hey look at that,” Mike said. He tugged you closer and pointed ahead into the water.
There was a man surfing out there, showing off and pulling tricks until the beautifully unpredictable ocean knocked him off his board. He fell with a splash.
“Aw you jinxed him.” You nudged Mike’s side and smiled when that made him laugh.
You loved it when you could make him laugh. Especially then, when the wind blew his curls out of his face and the sunlight made his eyes shine lighter than you were used to.
Sure there were beaches in Florida, but they weren’t quite like this. That wasn’t home anymore. Home was with him.
And so you wished the day would never have to end. There was nothing you needed to do, and nowhere you needed to be. The salty air welcomed you like a blanket. And it listened when Mike played his guitar for you at sunset. It was happy carrying the notes away into the deep orange sky.
You stayed until the orange grew dark and the wind grew colder. A bonfire was burning a hundred yards away, but it was time to go home. Dinner and a nice warm shower were waiting for you there.
The little girl and her family were already gone by then. The mother noticed you and smiled as they were leaving. All that remained were a sandcastle and some footprints.
You were glad to have that part of the beach to yourself then. You picked up your belongings to leave without any hurry. No one was watching but the ocean. And she’d never tell how you dropped the blanket to the sand, pulled Mike close, and kissed him in the moonlight. It was your way of saying thanks.
Thanks for the beach trip. Thanks for the perfect day. And thanks for bringing you to California with him.
Summary: A short bullet fic detailing a much deserved lazy Saturday. You needed some cheering up after a particularly rough week got you down. Who better than your sunshine to make everything alright again?
Characters: Tom Petty x Reader
Warnings: the slightest bit of angst, mostly tooth-rotting fluff
A/N: I’m sorry but yes, this is extremely self serving. I’d gone through a week from hell and wrote this as a way to cheer myself up. I really hope this helps anyone else who needs a little sunshine right now too 💛
As always, hope you enjoy and please don’t forget to leave feedback 🙏
Don’t let it kill you, babe
Don’t let it get to you
You woke up first on a Saturday morning, after the last week at work had proved nothing short of terrible and your luck seemed to have abandoned you entirely. You were just glad to finally have a day off from the chaos. And you were even more glad you got to spend that day with your love - who’d finally decided to give himself a day off too.
Not wanting to wake Tom, you slipped quietly out of bed to get ready for the day and made some coffee.
You tried so hard to hold on to the positives and leave that past week behind you, but it was still weighing too heavy in the back of your mind. You went through a lot all at once; it was hard not to think about it.
It didn’t take Tom long to meet you in the kitchen, where he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek and a sleepy request for a cup of coffee too.
But as soon as he noticed the melancholy painted so clearly on your face, you were swept into a hug so comforting you could have melted right there on the tiled floor.
“Can’t catch a break can you, baby?”
So from there, he sent you back to bed with an offer to bring you breakfast. Little did you know, you’d be spending the rest of the day there.
It was amazing how Tom somehow always knew exactly what you needed. So after breakfast in bed, he just held you. You didn’t even have to talk if you didn’t want to.
If you were being honest, it was truly therapeutic - just feeling so loved after everything you’d been through.
And his sweet gentle kisses were downright healing.
He spent the rest of the day doing anything to make you laugh - whether you two were playing cards, watching tv, or trying to decide what to make for dinner.
You didn’t even make dinner in the end, he just grabbed the phone and ordered your favorite.
You couldn’t help but smile, the way he recited your order so perfectly without you saying a word.
At the end of the day, it was almost impossible to remember everything that knocked you down all week.
And Tom couldn’t wait to grab his guitar to show you everything he’d been working on. That was the best part. It was always so adorable when he lit up like that.
So you may have had a dreadful week, and it may have made you feel disheartened, but one thing was clear by the time you fell asleep in his arms on Saturday night. With a guy like Tom in your life, your luck couldn’t have run too far away.
