#my mom still looks ten to twenty years younger than she actually is

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve always had a bit of a baby face. It’s not the worst thing, but occasionally gets me into awkward situations. Like when I was 23 having a flight attendant ask me in a baby voice if this was my first time flying alone. I was tired and befuddled and eventually blurted out, “I’m in my 20’s?”

But going back to school has been pretty funny. My classmates are largely 18-20. And to a one, none of them clocked me as being in my thirties. The highest any of them guessed was 25 and even that was said with extreme skepticism.

After telling a teammate over lunch what my age was she spent the rest of the meal staring at me in shock and confusion, clearly deeply shaken that someone she’d known over a year was a decade older than she thought.

But my absolute favorite was a classmate sliding up to me in figure drawing in sophomore year and dramatically whispering, “I- I heard you’re old!!”

I looked at them mildly and asked, “How old did you hear I was?”

They lowered their voice even more, as if the number they were about to utter was so scandalous they needed to hide its entry into the world.

“I heard you were… thirty!”

“Yep.”

They slammed back into their chair so hard it skidded backwards and shifted into high volume to exclaim, “WHAT! You like like you just graduated high school!!!”

I was laughing by that point, “No I don’t! You look fresh out of high school! I look thirty but all the actors who play high schoolers on TV are thirty so you can’t tell the difference!”

#ramblies #funny #my mom still looks ten to twenty years younger than she actually is #and I basically just got her face so it’s not surprising #the funnier part with masking is that people guess slightly higher if they just see eyes up but the guess goes down when they see it all

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Six

Chapter Six: Road Trip

Plot: Joel, Y/n and Ellie continue to make their way cross country, and Joel and Y/n’s truce is heavily tested.

Warnings: tlou ep.4 spoilers, language, insinuation of killing, mention of a p*rn magazine, guns, (16+)

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: This chapter feels like filler, but there’s still lil’ nuggets that will come into play later. Thanks to HBO for throwing that curveball of a Friday episode, now I gotta hustle to get the next chapter out within two days 😂

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be tagging anyone who does not have their age in their bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

I hope you all enjoy this one and prepare for the next one because….anyway, enjoy!

———————

June 2nd, 2002. Austin, Texas.

——————

Joel and Y/n had gone out for three weeks, equaling a total five dates. Between their respective work schedules and Joel being a parent, they had to get creative if they wanted to see each other. They’d meet on their lunch breaks or, if they were too busy, Joel would stop by the hardware store in dire need of help finding something and only Y/n could possibly help him. It gave them a good twenty minutes or so to wander the aisles together.

On a particularly slow Tuesday afternoon, Y/n was doing inventory. Joel and her had made plans to grab coffee on his way home and she was counting down the hours till he came through the door.

A small voice broke her out of her daydreams, “Excuse me?”

Y/n turned and met the face of a girl, no older than maybe thirteen. She had dark skin and a head full of curls pulled back with a scrunchie. She looked slightly out of breath, but determined.

“How can I help you?” Y/n asked curiously.

“Are you Y/n?”

She confusedly furrowed her brows, “Yeah…”

The girl huffed with a grin, “Okay, good. I asked, like, three other people where you were and they had no idea.”

Y/n awkwardly smiled along with her, “C-can I ask how you know my name?”

“Oh,” the girl snapped back to the current conversation, “I’m Sarah.”

“Sarah…” Y/n repeated, wracking her mental index of high school friend’s kids, before it hit her. Her eyes widened, “Wait…Sarah…Miller?”

She nodded, “Yeah.”

Y/n’s body locked up, to say she was surprised was an understatement. Joel had told her that he wanted to wait a while before introducing her to Sarah. He hadn’t had a serious girlfriend since Sarah’s mom and was trying to figure out the best way for them to meet. Y/n hadn’t taken any offense, she’d supported it, actually. She’d never dated anyone with a kid and she wanted to do everything as close to perfect as she could.

“D-does your-“ Y/n braced herself against her inventory cart, “Does your dad know you’re here?”

Sarah’s mouth twisted, “Not exactly.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/n replied, suspicious, “And not exactly means…?”

“Not at all,” Sarah nervously smiled.

Y/n gathered the little oxygen left in her body and laughed. “How did you get down here if you’re by yourself?”

Sarah shrugged, “I took the bus.”

“Ah,” Y/n nodded, “And you ride the bus alone without your dad’s permission a lot?”

The girl gave a guilty smile and balanced on the heels of her Converse. It was all the answer Y/n needed.

“So, why are you here?” Y/n asked, feeling like she was doing something wrong.

Sarah sighed, “I got tired of waiting for my dad to introduce me to you. I’ve asked him, like, ten times and he keeps saying no. I knew you worked here so…I figured this was the only way I could meet you.”

Y/n couldn’t help but be a little touched, and also terrified. She was more nervous about impressing Sarah than she had been Joel.

“I mean,” Y/n rubbed her forehead, “Yeah, I knew your dad was waiting to introduce us but…I didn’t realize his daughter was a secret mastermind.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Sarah smiled, resting a hand on Y/n’s cart, “So…you’re dating my dad.”

Y/n nodded, “Seems that way, yeah.”

“Well, he really likes you,” Sarah replied, “Like, really likes you. He’s in a way better mood than usual.”

“Is he now?” Y/n inquired.

“He’s smiling all the time, he’s cooking,” Sarah’s face turned serious, “Which never happens ‘cause he kinda sucks at it. He’s even singing.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, “Singing?”

Sarah nodded, “Uh-huh. Just under his breath, but still…”

Y/n was trying hard to restrain her grin, but Sarah was making it difficult. It was nice to know Joel was as uplifted by their short time together as she was. She’d practically been floating down the aisles.

“He’s just never this happy and…” Sarah shrugged one arm, “I really wanted to meet whoever was responsible.”

“Well,” Y/n smiled, “Your dad’s pretty great. And he loves you, never stops talking about how well you’re doing in school and in soccer…”

Sarah’s posture visibly improved upon hearing the compliments.

“Look, my dad’s never going to work up the nerve to let us all hang out together,” Sarah began to explain, “But the county fair’s on Friday night, me, him and Uncle Tommy are gonna go and it would be really fun if you came.”

Y/n inhaled deeply, a family outing. Was she ready for that? Were her and Joel at that point?

“I don’t know, Sarah,” she hesitate, “I should really talk to your dad first.”

“No,” Sarah urged, taking hold of one of Y/n’s hands, “He’ll just get all squirmy and frown and say that it’s not time yet.”

Y/n thought for a second, “He does frown a lot.”

“A lot,” Sarah chortled, Y/n joining in soon after, “Just think about it. Please?”

Y/n was between a rock and a hard place, or rather, the guy she was dating and his crafty daughter. She wanted Sarah to like her and they were already a step in the right direction. She didn’t want to blow it.

“Okay,” she relented, “I’ll think about it.”

“Yes,” Sarah cheered under her breath, still holding onto Y/n’s hand. “I gotta go, the bus is gonna be back any minute.”

As she moved to go, Y/n took a step forward. “I-I really don’t like the thought of you on the bus by yourself,” she objected, “Why don’t I drive you?”

“But you’re working,” Sarah replied.

Y/n gestured to the empty space around them. “I think they’ll survive without me for twenty minutes.”

Sarah gave a small smile, she was getting to spend more time with the woman she had a million questions about. Sneaking around had paid off substantially.

“Come on,” Y/n removed her apron, draped it across her cart and pulled her keys from her pocket, “You can tell me what your dad’s been singing on the way.”

The two girls headed out of the store, giggling to themselves as Sarah did an impression of her father humming old country tunes to himself while washing dishes.

—————————

Later that afternoon, Joel arrived to pick Y/n up for their quick coffee. When he arrived, she was nowhere to be found. After asking around, and finding out she had stepped out momentarily, he decided to wait at the empty checkout line for her.

Y/n walked back into the store with a new spring in her step. Sarah had not only spilled a lot of dirt on Joel, but she had talked about herself a lot. Y/n felt like she’d already been able to make a connection.

Joel spotted her before she did him, waving a little to catch her eye.

“Hey,” Y/n greeted, apprehension taking over.

“Hey,” Joel replied, his smiling fading the closer he got, “What’s that look?”

“What look?” Y/n asked, unaware of how nervous she appeared.

“You look like a kid with their hand caught in the cookie jar,” Joel smirked, taking her hand lightly into his, “What’s going on?”

Y/n sighed, she’d been trying to figure out how to broach the subject of Sarah all the way back to the store. Joel’s gentle touch was only heightening her nerves. “Why don’t I drive us to coffee?”

Joel squinted in confusion, “Okay…”

The two of them drove off in Y/n’s old Toyota, but she waited until they had their drinks in hand and were walking down the main street to start talking.

“So Sarah came by today,” she blurted out.

Joel nearly choked on the sip he’d been taking, “My Sarah?”

“Uh-huh,” Y/n nodded, anxiously holding the cup close to her chest.

“H-how’d she get down the-“ Joel began to ask before pressing his lips together and shutting his eyes, “She took the bus, didn’t she?”

“Yep,” Y/n answered.

Joel sighed, he was already starting to find grey hairs across his head. Sarah was going to turn the whole thing silver before she was 16.

“She said she was tired of waiting for you to introduce us so she was going to do it herself,” Y/n retold the story.

“Yeah, sounds like her…” Joel replied with a loud sigh, “Look, I know you wanted to meet her-“

“Yeah, but I was perfectly fine with waiting,” Y/n was quick to say, “You said you wanted to do this the right way.”

“Yeah, well, the right way was decided for us,” Joel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “So what’d you two talk about?”

Y/n smirked over her coffee cup, details of the conversation still fresh in her mind. “Girl stuff,” she answered, quickly taking a drink.

“Why don’t I believe you?” Joel asked with an eyebrow cocked.

“She, uh, she invited me to the fair this weekend,” Y/n changed topics, “With you guys.”

“Ah,” Joel nodded, he didn’t know whether or not to thank Sarah for speeding his relationship up. Lord knows, he was too nervous to do it.

Y/n held a hand up to Joel, “But I didn’t give her an answer. I wanted to talk to you first.”

With the obstacle of Sarah’s approval out of the way, there was nothing to stop him from saying yes. And he didn’t want there to be, he was just used to using excessive caution around his family that anything else felt unnatural. 

“You should come,” Joel answered, turning to Y/n with a shy smile.

Y/n inched back a little, placing her hand on Joel’s arm, “Are you sure? Joel, I don’t want to insert myself anywhere.”

“How can you insert yourself somewhere you were invited?” Joel replied, settling his hand over Y/n’s, “Come.”

Taking a deep breath, Y/n knew that this was a big step for them. Joel’s daughter was his world, and Y/n was being given the privilege of being a part of it.

She blew out her cheeks, “Okay.”

Joel’s smile was earnest, rubbing his thumb over the back of Y/n’s hand. 

“If all goes well, I won’t have to hide you so much,” he said.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re doing that great a job,” Y/n chuckled at Joel’s confusion, “Johnny Cash?”

Joel’s face turned sour, “Can’t believe she told you ‘bout that.”

“Hey, I thought it was a cute story,” Y/n held her hands up in surrender, “Your daughter thought it was a laugh riot.”

Joel lightly rolled his eyes, letting them rest afterwards on Y/n’s face. A stray bit of hair had fallen in her face, thanks to the breeze, and Joel brushed it away, cupping her cheek.

Joel and Y/n had made the decision that they wouldn’t take their relationship any further without having Sarah’s approval. They had yet to even kiss.

“If this works out,” Y/n started, “You’re not gonna be able to get rid of me.”

“Who says I want to?” Joel muttered, their close proximity allowed him to lower his voice.

They both knew if they stayed in the moment a second longer, their wills could cave. Y/n shoved her coffee cup between their mouths, allowing them both a breathy laugh.

“Come on,” Joel reached down and clasped Y/n’s hand, “I gotcha for a little while longer.”

The two of them walked off into the Austin evening, savoring every short second they got together.

—————

2023. Somewhere in rural America.

Joel, Ellie and Y/n had been driving for one day and no one had yet to end up in a body bag. A win if ever there were one.

That wasn’t to say they hadn’t come close. Joel and Y/n’s truce was an uneasy one and with the promise made to Ellie that they’d get along, their arguments had phased to thin lipped smiles barely concealing their disdain for one another. Still, their guns had stayed in the holsters. That was progress.

Joel pulled over at an abandoned gas station somewhere, needing to refuel. Ellie headed off to the bathrooms while Y/n and Joel went about setting up the siphon.

As Y/n handed Joel a rag, she noticed the state of his hand. It was still healing, and after using it so much in one day, it was beginning to shake.

48 hours ago, she would have let him suffer, but in the interest of a truce…

“Here,” she scooted closer, taking the siphon into her hand.

“I got it,” Joel protested.

“I know you do,” she placated him, gently prying his hand off the device, “Now move.”

She inched him out of the way and took over attaching the device. Joel crouched next to her in the dust, he felt useless if he wasn’t working.

Footsteps signaled that Ellie was coming back. She glanced over the abandoned car at Y/n and Joel.

“We have to do this every hour?”  

“Gas breaks down over time,” Joel answered, “This stuff’s almost water. Back in the day, we’d drive 10, 12 hours on one tank. You could go anywhere.”

“So where’d you go?” Ellie asked.

Y/n continued working, bouncing the memories off that threatened to stick in her mind. 

“Pretty much nowhere,” Joel answered, it was technically the truth, but so there was unclaimed life resting in his ‘pretty much.’

Y/n huffed a large breath into the siphon, the gasoline dripping into their canister.

“Nice,” Ellie complimented, “How does that work?”

“It’s a siphon,” Joel explained as Y/n monitored their levels, “It’s when liquid…travels against gravity because pressure-“

Ellie nodded smugly, “You don’t know.”

“I know it works,” Joel quickly replied.

Y/n smirked and looked over her shoulder, “Please teach us more about physics, professor.”

Joel frowned at his ex before turning his attention back to a walking Ellie, “No wandering.”

Ellie thought a moment, “Okay,” she went into her backpack, “This is your fault then.”

She whipped out a small paperback that made Y/n shut her eyes in exhaustion. “Oh, sweet Moses, not that book…” she muttered.

Joel started to speak, “Wha-“

“‘It doesn’t matter how much you push the envelope,’” Ellie recited, “‘It’ll still be stationary.’”

Joel blinked, Y/n let her forehead rest against the car.

“‘No Pun Intended: Volume Too’ by Will Livingston,” Ellie held up the book to Joel, “Volume Too. Look, you get it? Too? Like t-o-o?”

Joel mumbled something under his breath and got up.

“‘What did the mermaid wear to her math class?’” Ellie asked her captive audience, building tension in the silence, “‘An algae bra,” she laughed, “Like algae bra. ‘I stayed up all night-“

“No,” Joel shook his head, like that word carried an ounce of power with Ellie.

“‘Wondering where the sun went,” the girl continued, “‘And then it dawned on me.”

“Feel free to wait in the truck,” Joel suggested, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Well, Y/n thought it was funny,” Ellie retorted, she’d tested the jokes our on her watcher back in the QZ.

“I laughed at one out of, like, fifteen, Ellie,” Y/n grunted as she got to her feet, “That’s not the win you think it is.”

“Okay, but just know,” Ellie held up the book again, “You can’t escape Will Livingston. He’ll be back. There’s nothing you can do to stop him.”

Ellie took her backpack and her jokes and walked back to the Chevy, leaving Joel and Y/n by themselves.

“You get that book,” Joel started, trying to break the silence, “I’ll roll down the window.”

“Oh, that’s not even the worst of ‘em,” Y/n replied, wiggling the toe of her boot into the ground, “But they make her smile. Like I’m in any position to put a stop to that.”

Joel glanced over at Y/n, taking a temperature reading of her once again. It was hard to see so much of the person you’d once loved with your whole heart mixed with who they’d become. Every once in a while, he got flashes of his ex-girlfriend in the light she used to radiate. But something inevitably came through and blew out her flame. More than often, all it took was his mere presence.

“We should be good,” he said, changing his train of thought and kneeling down to pack up the siphon.

Y/n took the gas they’d collected and carried it back to the truck. Heavy as it was, she wasn’t about to ask Joel to help her. She’d lived through twenty years of their dystopian hell-space, a gas can wasn’t about to best her.

Once the truck was filled up, Joel and Y/n hopped in the front seats with Ellie sitting in the back.

“Must’ve been some truck,” Ellie commented, staring out the back window at the fleet deserted vehicles.

“Yeah, they used to stick big-ass plows on them and clear the roads for their tanks and such,” Joel said.

Ellie spun around in her seat, “I wanna see a tank!”

“You will,” Joel replied, “Tanks, choppers, all that stuff. But they’ll fight the wrong enemy. Just scattered around now.”

By now, Joel was background noise to Ellie as she dug around the back of Bill’s truck.

“I got somethin’,” she announced proudly, waving another cassette tape in between Y/n and Joel. “Here, does this make you all nostalgic?”

Joel took the tape from her, it was Hank Williams. Y/n and him shared a sideways glance, if Ellie had any musical knowledge, they’d have been insulted. 

“This is actually before our time,” Joel handled the cassette.

“Great,” Ellie settled back in her seat, unamused.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not good,” Y/n stated, watching Joel pop the tape into the player and adjust the volume.

The speakers flooded with the warm sounds of the country legend. Something about it made both Joel and Y/n relax into their seats a little more.

“Oh, man,” Joel mumbled to himself, briefly closing his eyes and letting the music wash over him.

“Yeah,” Y/n absentmindedly replied, staring out her window.

“Got somethin’ else,” Ellie announced, the sounds of magazine pages flipping behind Joel and Y/n, “It’s, uh, light on the reading, but it has some interesting pictures.”

Y/n and Joel peered into the dashboard mirror, catching a graphic cover. Their protests overlapped.

“Oh, no, no, no, put that back.”

“Ellie, don’t read that.”

“That’s not for kids, Ellie.”

“There’s nothing you need to see-“

Ellie opened up the centerfold of the x-rated magazine, her jaw dropping at the sight, “How would he even walk around with that thing?”

“Ellie,” Y/n unbuckled her seat belt, flipping around in her chair and stretching into the backseat, “Put it back.”

The girl slid to Joel’s side of the truck, too far away for Y/n to reach. “Hold you horses,” she argued, “I wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

While Joel watched nervously through the mirror, Y/n was not so easily defeated. She kept clawing at the air, trying to rip the magazine out of Ellie’s hands. Ellie turned away just enough so Y/n’s fingertips barely touched the paper.

“Why are all the pages stuck together?” Ellie asked.

“Uh,” Joel elongated, unsure of what to do, “The-“

“I’m just fuckin’ with you,” Ellie burst into laughter, reaching past Y/n and slapping Joel’s shoulder with the magazine.

Y/n slid back into her seat, moving as far away as she could from Joel’s shoulder.

Ellie unrolled the back window, the whipping winds blowing through the truck. She tossed the magazine out with a grin, “Bye-bye, dude!”

Y/n sighed and put her hand to her temple, nearly laughing at the absurdity of the moment.

They drove for most of the day, answering Ellie’s occasional question, but mostly sitting in silence. Somberness would fall over the truck whenever they passed by some piece of the old world, ruined and rusted by time. They drove by an abandoned amusement park, a rickety coaster still standing. A sign for what used to be a Love’s truck stop. A bridge that had collapsed at some point in the last two decades. To Ellie, it was a lost future. To Joel and Y/n, it was the world they didn’t know if they’d ever see again.

When the skies grew began to grow dark, there wasn’t much driving left for them to do.

“All right,” Joel announced to the truck, “That’s enough for the day.”

One part of their agreement was that Y/n would trust Joel’s ability to get them to Wyoming. Her rebellion against his every word made her want to argue that they could go a little longer, but she was trying to keep up her end of the deal.

Joel pulled off the main road and drove them into the nearby forest. They set up camp deep enough that they were hidden, but close enough to the road to escape quickly, should the need arise. Joel and Y/n took care of preparing dinner, using a portable stove and cutlery they’d taken from Bill’s house.

Eventually, they all sat down to a lukewarm meal of ravioli. Ellie practically inhaled it while Joel and Y/n tried to make it last.

“Slow down,” Joel cautioned.

“This is slow,” Ellie replied with a full mouth, “What am I even eating?”

“That is 20-year-old Chef Boyardee ravioli,” Joel answered.

“That guy was good,” Ellie complimented, stuffing another piece in her mouth.

Joel stared down at his meal, “I actually agree.”

Y/n swirled a piece around her plate, “It’s technically food.”

“How long are we staying out here?” Ellie inquired.

“I figure I sleep tonight,” Joel answered, “And drive tomorrow, all day, all night, and get us to Wyoming by next mornin’.”

“You know I can take a shift, right?” Y/n asked, Joel’s stony silence served as his reply, “Ah, so you do know and you’re choosing to ignore it.”

“In the interest of gettin’ us there the quickest, it’s better I drive,” he stated.

“Yes, navigating a highway,” Y/n retorted, taking a sarcastic tone, “That’s men’s work.”

“What happened to getting along?” Ellie smirked as she watched the exchange.

Joel and Y/n glanced over at her and backed down. They had to watch themselves.

“So can we start a fire?” Ellie changed the subject, “I’m freezing.”

“Now, why am I gonna tell you no?” Joel replied shortly.

Ellie shrugged in defeat, “Because Infected will see the smoke.”

“No, fungus isn’t that smart,” Joel said, “This is too remote for Infected, anyway.”

“People?” Ellie came back with.

Joel nodded.

“So what are they gonna do? Rob us?”

“Oh, they’ll have way more in mind than that,” Joel answered, never once looking up from his plate.

Y/n had lived a vastly different life than Joel had, post apocalypse, but she knew the horrors people willingly committed against each other. Being cold for a night was the ideal.

Once the sun set, the three of them rolled out their sleeping bags, another courtesy of Bill and Frank, and set up for the night. Y/n laid her head next to Ellie’s, while Joel stayed on the complete opposite side of them.

Ellie took a whiff of the inside of her bag, “Actually smells kinda good.”

“Well, that would be Frank’s then,” Joel quipped.

“If mine smells like gunpowder,” Y/n held her sleeping bag up, “I’m gonna assume-“

“Bill,” Joel took no time in answering.

Y/n nodded, “Copy that.”

Before they could lay down for the night, Joel and Y/n made a point of each checking their shotguns and laying them at their sides.

Ellie and Y/n nestled into their accommodations beside one another, Ellie pulling something out of her backpack before switching the lantern off and turning on her flashlight. Y/n’s back was turned, or else she would have put a stop to what was about to happen

“Joel?” Ellie eventually called out, “Y/n? Joel?”

“What?” Joel jumped to attention, he still moved with the urgency of a father. 

Y/n turned over, “What is it?”

“Can I ask you a serious question?”

“Yeah,” Joel said for both of them.

Ellie sighed deeply, “‘Why did the scarecrow get an award?’”

Y/n and Joel both looked over at the same time to shoot Ellie a glare. She kept a straight face as if she really needed the answer.

“Because he was outstanding in his field,” Joel answered.

Y/n groaned, “Oh, God, there’s two of you.”

“You dick,” Ellie laughed, “Did you read this?”

“No,” Joel turned over, smirking only to himself, “Now go to sleep.”

Ellie victoriously smiled, having successfully chipped away at a little bit of the ice man’s exterior.

“Admit it,” Ellie whispered to Y/n, “You like them.”

“I will smother you in your sleep,” Y/n mumbled into her pillow. She’d never admit to cracking a smile.

They had just settled back into the sleepy silence when Ellie spoke up again, this time truly serious.

“Those people you said…there’s no way anyone knows we’re here, right? No one’s gonna find us.”

Joel and Y/n both stiffened, they could only guarantee so much. Where they were was as close to safe as they could get. But that wasn’t something you told a scared kid who wouldn’t admit to being scared. You gave them hope, confidence.

“No one’s gonna find us,” Joel confirmed.

“Okay,” Ellie accepted the answer and flipped over. 

Y/n lay on her back, staring up at the stars. Her paranoia had softened the longer she survived, but laying in the middle of the open woods with a big flashing red sign above that read ‘FREE KILL HERE’ was resuscitating it.

A few feet away, Joel was feeling the same thing. He couldn’t pretend like he was fearless leaving himself completely vulnerable. And now that he knew Ellie was nervous, it only woke him up further. He eyed the shotgun, calculating in his head how little sleep he could make the drive on. If he counted on Y/n to take one of the shifts, they could still make good time…

They both unzipped their sleeping bags at the same time, turning to one another in the dark. No matter how hard they tried, they were on the same wavelength.

Y/n sighed, “You take the first shift?”

Joel’s nod had a heaviness to it, “Yeah.”

Y/n settled back onto her side, this time facing where Joel was heading to take up his post. She fell into an uneasy sleep, only after keeping watch over Joel until her exhaustion forced her to stop.

——————

It was a few hours later, Joel eyelids were beginning to droop. His ears were beginning to ring. He needed sleep.

After doing one last scan of the area, he walked back to their campsite. He came over to Y/n’s sleeping bag, ready to wake her, but stopped.

He stared down at her, her lips slightly parted, her hair framing her face and her lashes fanned across her cheeks. The frown she carried throughout the day faded in sleep, softening to a content expression as if she was between the bliss of unconsciousness and the evil of the waking world. It was the most at peace Joel had seen her in the last few days.

He couldn’t bring himself to wake her up.

She’d be mad at him in the morning, he knew it. She’d berate him for thinking he didn’t need her and probably make a crack about him falling asleep at the wheel. That was fine, he thought as he went back to his post, he’d take it. Anger and nostalgia were waging a battle within him, and right now, he was allowing his wistful memories to win.

——————

Y/n woke up to the smell of coffee brewing and the rustling of something in their truck. Seeing that Joel wasn’t in his sleeping bag, she grabbed her shotgun and bolted upright. The barrel of the weapon found Joel, packing up the truck, cocking a brow at her.

Y/n exhaled and set down her gun, running a relieved hand over her face. “You didn’t wake me up,” she said when she came to fully.

“I had it covered,” Joel said softly, not wanting to wake Ellie yet.

“I didn’t ask that,” Y/n replied as she stretched, already annoyed with him. She rolled out of her sleeping bag and got to her feet. “Well, I’m driving this morning. I’m not ending up dead just because you’re stubborn.”

Joel didn’t look up as he tied his sleeping bag up. Right on cue.

“Coffee’s on,” he changed the subject.

Y/n felt like Joel knew that would distract her enough to move on. He wasn’t wrong. She reached over to grab her backpack, feeling around for her travel mug. Her hand graced the plastic butterfly she’d taken from Joel’s apartment, freezing as she did.

Grief, much like heartbreak, had to be danced around. If you got too close, self destruction would swallow you whole. Y/n collected her thoughts and led them back to where she was, quickly finding her mug and zipping the pack up again.

Ellie rolled over, awake finally, and sniffed the air. She scooted over to where Joel had the coffee boiling and carefully opened the lid. 

“Ugh,” she gagged, “What the fuck is that?”

Joel turned to her, “You don’t like coffee?”

Ellie grimaced, watching the bubbling brew a second longer before throwing the lid back down and rolling back onto her pillow.

“Uh-uh,” Y/n shook her head, nudging Ellie with her boot, “Up and at ‘em, come on.”

Ellie stuck her middle finger out, “Fuck you, man.”

“Up,” Y/n repeated, tugging on the bottom of Ellie’s sleeping bag.

The girl moaned and sat up, glaring at Y/n, who went to pour her mug of coffee. Whether it was the first sip of caffeine shifting her mood or she simply was making an effort, she wasn’t sure, but when Joel walked over with his mug, Y/n poured it for him.

“Thanks,” Joel mumbled, “Why don’t I drive for three hours, you take over after?”

“Two,” Y/n countered, “Those bags under your eyes make you look like you’re in a fucking Tim Burton movie.”

Joel sighed, remembering the truce. “Fine.”

Y/n and Joel finished packing up their supplies and the three of them were back on the road in minutes.

“Is that what the Starbucks in the QZ used to sell?” Ellie asked, eyeing Joel’s mug.

“Well, there’s was a lot fresher than what Bill saved up, but yeah,” Joel answered, “This is what they sold.”

“The world used to run on this stuff,” Y/n added.

“Smells like burnt shit,” Ellie mused, smirking over at Joel.

Joel, straight faced as could be, raised his mug and took a big slurping sip. Y/n bit down on her lip to keep from rewarding him a laugh. 

“Eyes on the map,” Joel ordered.

“76 west and then 70 west for, like, ever…” Ellie read, Y/n had taught her how to navigate directions and she was still getting the hang of it.

“Where in Wyoming did you say your brother was?” Ellie asked Joel.

“Last contact came through a radio tower close to Cody,” Joel answered.

Ellie scanned the map, “Cody. Cody…Cody…ah, man. That is deep up in there.”

Y/n peekd over Ellie’s shoulder to take a look, “Do you know where he would have gone other than there?”

“Odds are he’ll be near a settlement,” Joel answered, “Probably close to another city out there. Ain’t too many of ‘em in Wyoming.”

The second part of his reply was meant more for Ellie. She was getting a crash course in geography.

“Chee-Yen,” she read off.

“Cheyenne,” Joel corrected, he’d studied that map so intensively that he could have found his way around the state blindfolded.

“Chey- really?” Ellie double checked before reading again, “Cheyenne…Laramie…Casper? What’s his name?”

“Whose name?” Joel asked, avoiding the question another five seconds.

“Your brother,” Ellie replied.

Joel paused, “Tommy.”

A wave of nostalgia crashed around Y/n, hearing his name made her think of cheap beer and belly laughter.

“Younger or older?” Ellie continued to question Joel.

“Younger.”

“Why isn’t he with you?”

Joel sighed, stretching his neck out slightly, “A long story.”

“Is it longer than 25 hours? ‘Cause I think that’s what we got,” Ellie asked, turning around to Y/n, “Do you know?”

“No, I don’t,” Y/n clocked Joel in the dashboard mirror, “And if I’m risking my life to find him, I think I deserve to know.”

Joel met her eyes in a fleeting glance, she was backing him up against a wall.

“Tommy’s what we used to call a “joiner,” he began to explain, “Dreams of becomin’ a hero. So he enlisted in the Army right outta high school. A few months later, they ship him off to Desert Storm,” he allowed for Ellie’s confused gaze, “That’s what they called that war, it doesn’t matter. Point is, bein’ in the Army didn’t make him feel much like a hero. Cut to twelve years late, outbreak happens. He convinces me to join a group makin’ their way up to Boston, which I did…mostly to keep an eye on him, keep him alive.”

Y/n’s stomach turned, she wasn’t just hearing about what had become of Tommy…she was hearing about what had happened to Joel after they broke up. Gaps she’d wanted filled for twenty years.

“It’s where we met Tess,” Joel continued, breaking for a sip of coffee, “And that whole crew, we, uh…well, for what it was, it worked. And then Tommy meets Marlene. She talks him into joinin’ the Fireflies. Same mistake he made when he was eighteen,” Joel’s tone turned bitter, his voice quivering an almost undetectable amount, “Wants to save the world. Pipe dream. Him. Fireflies, all of ‘em…” he didn’t dare meet Y/n’s eyes, “Delusional.”

Y/n lifted her feet up and hugged her knees, she knew the remark was meant for both her and Tommy. And while her anger with Joel hadn’t lost its momentum, she let him continue. He needed to get it all out.

“‘Course last I heard, he quit the Fireflies too,” Joel went on, “So now he’s on his own out there, and…I gotta go get him.”

The car was washed in a somber silence. Only one of them was brave enough to break it.

“If you don’t think there’s hope for the world,” Ellie said, “Why bother going on? I mean, you gotta try, right?”

“You haven’t seen the world,” Joel said, a little wistful, “So you don’t know. You keep goin’ for family. That’s about it.”

The five words pierced through Y/n’s heart, the wooden arrow splintering inside the chambers. Each syllable was like taking a knife to the carefully placed stitches around her soul.

“I’m not family,” Ellie said, blissfully unaware of the situation surrounding her.

“No,” Joel agreed, “You’re cargo. And I made a promise to Tess. And she was like family.”

Numbness set in and Y/n rested her head against the window, focusing on the rolling fields of rural America. If Ellie wasn’t in the car, she would have let herself go off on Joel, but it wasn’t the time.

“What if you don’t find him?” Ellie asked the man.

“I will,” Joel replied,

“How do you know?” 

“I’m persistent,” Joel stated before switching gears, “You got up pretty early, if you wanna grab more sleep.”

Ellie scoffed, “I’m not even tired.”

Within a few minutes, Ellie was beginning to doze off. Y/n gently tapped her shoulder, gesturing for her to climb into the backseat. She helped pull her through and Ellie settled against the opposite window.

Joel drove them for an hour in silence before Y/n couldn’t stand being still anymore.

“Pull over,” she told him, “Let’s switch.”

Joel was tired enough to listen to her, stopping the car in the middle of the road. They unbuckled and got out, meeting at the front. 

“You’re wrong, you know,” Y/n said once they were face to face, “About Tommy, about the Fireflies…all of it.”

“You wanna prove me wrong, have at it,” Joel replied, disgruntled by the whole idea.

“Tommy wanting to be a hero is him wanting to help people,” Y/n kept going, “To fight. To do the right thing. When has that ever been a bad thing?”

Joel nearly scoffed, “Maybe when it gets him killed.”

“If he’s still here after all these years, maybe you need to stop looking at him like he’s some idiot kid. You don’t get to judge the people who are trying to get some of this,” Y/n spread her arms out to the wide open space around them, “Any of this back. It’s a hell of a lot more than you seem to be doing.”

Joel rested a hand on the truck’s hood, “Maybe I don’t feel the need to waste my time on a pointless cause. Last time I checked, that was all the Fireflies ever accomplished.”

“At least I’m doing something,” Y/n fought back, “I’d rather spend the rest of my life on a pointless cause and go to sleep with what’s left of my soul than sell it to the devil and not recognize my own damn reflection.”

Joel felt the last part of her sentence push into his gut like the tip of a spear. She was hitting too close to home without knowing it.

“‘Keep going for family,’” Y/n repeated, practically spitting the last words, “When was the last time you fought for anything?”

Joel reached out, grabbing Y/n’s arm roughly as she turned away and spun her around. If she hadn’t dug her boots into the asphalt, she would have fallen right into him.

“You don’t know what I’ve fought for,” he growled, his eyes boring into hers.

Y/n’s chest rose and fell rapidly with rage, inching her face closer to his to show him she wasn’t afraid of him. “Neither do you,” she seethed.

Their breaths mingled in the few inches left separating their mouths. Neither one of them were making any real threats, there was simply too much tension between them to ensure a safe car ride. They needed to let it out.

Joel realized his fingers were digging into Y/n’s arm, it had happened when she had moved closer to him. Habits were tricky to break, but the body didn’t hold grudges like the mind.

The close proximity wasn’t lost on Y/n, but she was able to free herself from it before muscle memory took over. She yanked her arm out of Joel’s grip and took the keys from his other hand, stomping around to the driver’s seat and getting in. Joel unhappily followed, and their wordless journey continued…

—————————

Joel caught maybe thirty consecutive minutes of sleep while Y/n drove them. It wasn’t that she was a bad driver, he just wasn’t used to not being in control of a situation. He gripped the map tightly as they drove into downtown Kansas City.

Surrounding them were rusted abandoned vehicles, but the tunnel in which they needed to go through was blocked entirely by a semi. Y/n brought the car to a halt, glancing over at Joel knowingly.

“Wait here,” she told Ellie, who had just woken up.

Joel and Y/n got out, Joel grabbing their shotguns from the backseat. He handed hers over and the team took calculated steps towards the tunnel. Joel crouched down to get a peek at the open road waiting on the other side of the mess. The semi was parked that way deliberately.

Joel walked back to the truck, Y/n only a step behind him. They got back in their seats seat, Ellie squeezing over the glove compartment. 

“Where are we?”

“Kansas City,” Joel answered quickly, taking the map from her. The three of them studied it.

“How far back do we have to go to get around this?” Ellie asked.

Joel traced their route with his fingertip, Y/n tugged the map closer so she could study it too. There weren’t a lot of options if they had a prayer of getting to Wyoming within their time frame. They could either go back, costing them a few more hours, or take their chances passing through the city.

Y/n sighed, everything she was about to say went against what she wanted to say….

“It’s your call.”

Joel was honestly surprised that she had relented so quick. “Screw it,” he muttered, “Head back ‘round the tunnel, get on the next ramp. We’ll be back on the road, minute tops.”

Y/n put the truck in reverse and backed them up, swinging around a shoulder of road that would take them into the city.

“You guys are my eyes,” Y/n said as she navigated the first set of streets, 

“Tell me where to go.”

“Look for any signs,” Joel instructed while Ellie read the map.

They drove for about five minutes, having gotten no closer to finding the open road.

“Where the fuck is the highway?” Joel complained.

“I can’t tell from this,” Ellie let her hand fall against the map, “I’m all turned around.”

Joel was trying to help Ellie navigate while also keeping an eye peeled for potential threats. “Well, don’t look at the state map, look at the inset,” he directed.

Ellie groaned, “Well, I don’t know where we are in that either! This is my second day in a fucking car, man. I mean, I think we’re heading north?”

“I don’t even see any fucking signs,” Y/n mentioned.

“It’s gotta be the right,” Joel said, shaking his head, ”What the fuck?”

“Y/n stop,” Ellie exclaimed.

Y/n threw on the brake, bringing them to a halt in the middle of the street.

“Is that the QZ?” Ellie asked, her eyes wide as she peered over Y/n, “Where the fuck is FEDRA?”

Joel and Y/n got a look at where the Quarantine Zone should have been, zero military presence. That was unfathomable.

“Hey,” a voice called, their attention was drawn to a man limping towards their truck, “Please help.”

Y/n and Joel’s blood ran cold, they knew exactly what was about to go down.

“Put your seatbelt on,” Joel told Ellie, throwing his on as well.

“Aren’t we gonna help him?” Ellie asked innocently.

Y/n said a silent prayer to anyone who was listening for survival.

“No,” Joel answered, looking to his ex, “Drive. Now.”

Y/n pressed her foot down on the gas pedal, the “injured” leaping out of the way. The man cried something out she couldn’t hear over the blood pounding in her ears.

“Y/N!” Ellie screamed.

Y/n was too busy driving to see what Ellie and Joel were watching, but the message was received when a large object got dropped on their windshield. Y/n swerved, Joel reached over to steady the wheel as she regained control. In their mad dash effort, they didn’t notice the strip of nails ahead of them. The truck shook as its tires began to deflate. 

“Fuck!” Y/n yelled, “What do we do?”

“Hard right into that building,” Joel shouted, there was another guy in their path, “Now!”

Instincts ignored, Y/n pulled to the right, holding her breath as they smashed through the glass windows of the nearest building.

——————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @itwasallinmyhead1 @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #twenty years later

[howlingday]

So I just thought of an angsty Rwby au involving jaune being Ravens kid. But here’s the kicker Raven would y’know still be behind the scenes watching Yang as she does, but with Jaune and his siblings she actually gets to be a mom for them in ways she couldn’t for Yang.

And I just imagine Jaune being a huge mamas boy and having a great relationship with raven.

And I just also envisioned him with statkillers sword skills for some reason

Is this idea evil? Yes.

But it is a good idea imo

"I can't wait!" Nora bounced in her seat like a little kid going to the fair. She got some odd looks from the other hangar patrons. "We're gonna meet Jaune's whole family! His mom, his dad, his brothers-"

"Sisters." Jaune corrected.

"-his brothers and sisters-" Nora continued.

"No, Nora, I only have sisters. I'm the only brother." Nora looked him up and down. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing." She looked away. "Figured a brother would be bigger."

"Huh?"

"What's your family like, Jaune?" Pyrrha asked, steering the conversation away from Nora.

"They're great!" Jaune said with a smile. "Though, not everybody is gonna be there. Saph's moving into her new house in Argus and getting ready for her wife to give birth, the twins are living somewhere close to Vytal, and Mom is probably on a mission again."

"Oh, is she a huntress?" Ruby asked.

"She used to be. Now she's in charge of her own mercenary company. She gets really busy."

"Wow..." Ruby had stars in her eyes. "Your mom sounds really cool~!"

"Well, she clearly dropped the ball on you." Weiss rolled her eyes. "Seeing as you arrived at Beacon with no training." Jaune gave a sheepish chuckle. "Honestly, how did that even happen?"

"To be fair," Jaune gave his cheek a scratch, "Beacon was kind of a last minute decision. Mom didn't know until it was too late."

"What was her reaction when she found out?" Blake asked.

"Well..."

'Flight 2314 for Ansel is now boarding.'

"Let's just say she wasn't too thrilled."

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

"Jaune!"

"Hey, Dad!" Jaune walked up to and hugged an older man with faded blond hair. Twice Jaune's size and wearing a white and gold t-shirt and business slacks, he looked exactly what everyone expected Jaune to look like in twenty years. "These are my friends. This is Nora, Pyrrha, and Ren from my team, and my sister team of Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang."

"Hi~!"

"Hello!"

Greetings."

"Hi!"

"Weiss Schnee."

"Hello."

"Hey, 'sup!"

"Pleasure to meet you all! I'm Nick, and Jaune's told quite a bit about you kids." Jaune's dad shook each of their hand, shaking some off their feet. "So where's baggage claim? Don't want to keep everyone waiting at the house."

"I don't know about everyone." Jaune chuckled.

"Yup, everyone. Even your sisters came down!" He grinned. "I'd hate to keep your mother waiting."

"Mom's home?!" Jaune asked with a gleam of excitement in his eyes. At a nod from his dad, Jaune lept for joy and walked quickly to baggage claim.

"Huh." Yang smirked. "Never seen someone so airsick move so fast AFTER throwing up."

The group hurried after Jaune, weaving around other passengers to catch up. Meanwhile, Nick kept a close eye on Yang. There was a scowl to his face, andhe knew exactly why.

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

"Here we are." Nick sang as he parked the... well, to call it a 'car' would be misleading. Turns out, it was a vehicle well suited for ten people and their luggage, eight of which would be teens and younger. "And how is the man of the hour?"

"Uh..." Jaune took deep breaths. Even as a kid, he got carsick easily. Thankfully, cars were a lot easier for him now than bullheads. "I'm good."

"You sure?" Nick chuckled. "Wouldn't want your mom to see her only son thrown up on himself."

"Like it's the first time." Jaune climbed out and looked at his home. It was a fairly big house in the country-side; two-stories, basement, attic, outdoor pool with patches of tape. He couldn't help but smile.

"Wow..." Nora gasped in wonder. "So this is where you grew up?" She nodded. "Guess it makes sense. Nothing about you says 'city kid'."

"Uh, thanks, Nora?" Jaune wasn't sure if he should take it as a compliment or an insult. What he did know, though...

"It's about time you showed up!" ...was whose voice that was.

Jaune whirled and saw an older woman with long, black hair and piercing red eyes. He smiled back at the woman who raised him almost all of his life. He raised his hand in the air.

"Hey, Mo-"

"RAVEN!" Jaune whirled again, catching a bit of motion sickness, and saw Yang huffing like a bull, ready to charge. Her eyes were red, just like when she was mad. Just like his mom's always were.

"Oh..." And just like that, Jaune had another sister.

#rwby #rwby au #raven arc au #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #nora valkyrie #blake belladonna #pyrrha nikos #lie ren #raven branwen #papa arc

[nynxhaswritersblockk]

Just a little something I was thinking of while looking through my old Wattpad account and the library I had on there 🙂

TW: Guns, italian Mafia, threatening, kidnapping, yk the drill :3

You always made fun of those cringy Y/N fanfics, "I put my hair in a messy bun and didn't put on any makeup" - It made you laugh. "Sold to Harry Styles, "Sold to one direction", etc. Ofcourse as a teen you read them, typical stuff that a middle, or even Highschooler during your time would do. You remember sitting in your bed when you were 13, it was 2012 at the time, you were reading those "Creepy pasta/ Jeff the Killer x Y/N" stories; Thinking back on it it was a good time, you were young and practically innocent, if not a little dirty minded due to the smut you read, but does it really matter now? Your favorite genre had always been something else though, not being sold to Harry styles or running away from home and joining the creepy pasta; a phase you got over just a few years ago, no it was something else, "Being sold to the mafia." Thinking back it's more cringe than the rest, considering that no mafia boss is a good looking, tall and muscular italian man that would buy you off your parents and call you "Amore", no, the mafia is cruel and if they were to own you, you'd just be a toy to their old, grumpy, ugly and overlooked by wrinkles boss.

You're twenty-four now, wow big age, huh? You have a loving partner and a stable job, engaged even, planning the wedding and all. Currently your husband is on a work trip, it's November third 2023 (remember this date very well), your birthday was just a few days ago and sadly you had to celebrate without your loving fiancé. The couch has become your comfort space, the chocolate lab you own laying next to you, snorting in his sleep. "Lil trashcan" is what you call him, though his actual name is "lucky"; The nickname came from him eating everything, not eating, more like inhaling.

"Lucky," You whistled after, making sure to get his full attention as you turned the TV off. He looked at you with his big brown eyes, blinking stupidly. "wanna go to bed, big guy?" You ask sweetly, scratching that specific spot on his back, the one that make his leg twitch slightly and tail wag faster than usually. You get up and pull his blanket away, he gets up, stretching on the floor and yawning, a loud high whine. You blink a few times, confused as to why your dog was always exaggerating everything.

A quick stop in the kitchen to grab your phone from it's charging station, stupid to put in the kitchen you may think, but useful when your phone is on 5% and you need a Recipe to cook something. You check it, three missed calls from "Mom", one missed call from "Dad" and four missed calls from "Liam", your brother. "Jesus" You mutter out and dial your mom's number, as she is the most calmest when you miss her calls.

"Sweetie?" Her voice calls out over the phone, slightly shaky, you're concerned now. "Hey mom, is everything alright?" She is still for a moment and you can hear your brother say something from behind her. Liam is your older brother, he's twenty-seven and even though you got the usual younger sibling treatment from him, you love him to death. "Mom?" You call out again, snapping her back to the call, "Yes, sorry, sweetie!" She quickly says and begins speaking before you could, "How fast can you be over at our house? We have something to discuss with you" She says, sounding concerned and nervous. You look at the time, it's 1am, why is she still awake? "Uhm.. I can be there in ten?" You offer and she sighs in relief, weird. "Good, see you then, sweetie!" She doesn't say anything, instead hangs up and leaves you just as confused as you had been before.

"Guess we're not going to sleep, huh? Wanna visit granny?" You say to your dog, smiling a bit as you pat his head. You put his leash on him, put on your shoes, grab your coat and pocket your phone, then you head out. After a good five minutes of trying to get your dog in the car, finally managing it, you sit in the drivers seat and start driving. A calm drive in the rainy night, a million thoughts raced your mind though. What could be stressing your mother out so much that she asks you to come over at one in the morning?

When you arrive at her house you spot a black car with a strange License plate on it, it's not an US one, neither is it from any other countries on the continent called America. You shrug, thinking it probably belongs to your mom's neighbour. You get lucky out of the car and head for your mom's door, before you can ring the doorbell it opens and you're met with a man in a black suit, he looks to be in his late thirties, early forties, maybe even older.

"Uhm Hi? Is my mom he-" *He pulls you in the house, your dog being pulled in with you as he shuts the door loudly, grabbing the leash from you and pulling the dog with him. "Living room." He says harshly and pushes you forward. Goosebumps make it's way on your skin, a lump in your throat and the hairs at the back of your neck standing up. Heavy steps lead you to the living room, your brother is sitting on the couch, a gun held to his head by a similarly old looking man, his pointer on the trigger and ready to press it at any moment. Your parents, old and frail people that devoted their life to raising you properly, stand across your brother, looking stressed out. Tears pricked at your eyes at the sight. "M-Mom?" You mumbled out, looking at her nervously. You hear the gun at your brother's head cock and your gaze snaps to the sound. "What is going on?" You whisper quietly, seeking eye contact with your brother, but he avoids it. "My my, what a sweet young woman, mh" A voice says from behind you, you turn around, your breath caught in your throat. He looks old; wrinkles around his dark brown eyes, a strong jawline, bushy eyebrows, prominent cheekbones and full lips; A creepy smile on his face. "To answer your question, your brother here has given us a slight bit of trouble," His italian accent is thick, not something you would enjoy though, "and I'm giving you a choice now, either you come back with us to our beautiful, sunny italy and I'll marry you to my son, because he's looking for a wife or your brother gets his brains blown out right infront of you and your parents." Time stops around you, you feel dizzy, a weird feeling in your gut that makes you want to throw up. Then everything is gone, the last thing you feel is your head hitting the floor and your mom's shriek as you faint.

A few hours pass by, atleast you think so, then you wake up. Duck tape over your mouth, eyes covered with a blindfold, ankles and hands tied together with rope. Where ever you're sitting is a moving vehicle, your best guess is the car you saw outside your parents's house. You want to cry, tears pricking at your eyes as you breathe heavily, the tape over your mouth restricting your breathing and stressing you out; you feel like fainting once again.

#mafia x reader #mafia boss #yn

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 33

Chapter 33: “Action, Part 2”

Again, no indication of the lullaby being hummed, but I love that the anime includes her doing so. I love her voice so much, both sub & dubbed. But damn ma’am, no need to sound so relieved that you’ll finally be free from your own son. (even though she didn’t really know Ray was her true kid until six years ago.)

Okay, so here’s where the timing of midnight sends me into a state of confusion, at least in the anime’s case. With the manga, we know Emma enters the dinning room to meet Ray at 23:38 and I can believe their whole conversation takes up until midnight when Ray drops the match. We also learn in this chapter Isabella finishes putting the babies to sleep at 23:45 and then does whatever in her office until she’s alerted by Emma’s scream. The manga makes more sense to me for this scene because it doesn’t specify exactly how long she’s in her office for or when Isabella reacts to the commotion in the dinning room. It’s easier to believe the kids had enough time to set up for Emma’s grand performance when we have no idea the current time of night.

With the anime however, we get Isabella hear Emma’s scream just seconds after midnight which baffles me greatly since that scream of Emma’s happens way after she catches Ray’s match! After singeing her hands, she has Thoma & Lani set up Ray’s replacement, takes out Ray’s tracker, made the boys vacate the premises so she can start the fire and then lets out that scream.. all of that certainly can’t happen in a matter of seconds just as the clock finishes its twelve midnight chimes! I dunno man, anime time is weird, but at least Emma’s voice actresses nailed that scream.. you don’t wanna know how often I just replayed it back.

Anyways, my nitpicking aside.. the fire is quite the spectacle, especially with how quick it was able to spread. We already got walls coming down. I also love how we don’t get a perfect look at Emma actually wearing her shoes, whether they’re drawn completely dark as they are here or covered by speech bubbles. You can still notice them sure, but it makes it fun to look back at once Isabella notices the footwear and how little focus they received.

Ah Isabella, a renowned caretaker who spent many years acting like the perfect mother in order to provide high quality merchandise to the farm.. and she ends up gets fooled by one of her own children in a very spectacular fashion. Sorry honey, I think you raised Emma a bit too well to be a proficient actor.

Props to Gilda as well for the subtle act she put on in front of mom and leading the other kids out. I gotta wonder though, what did the younger kids do when they all evacuated? Did they not see the fifteen escapees at all? Or if they did, even wonder where they’re all going and if they should follow too? Maybe Phil kept them under control.. yeah, let’s go with that.

The speed at which this girl ran away from the fire is exactly how quick she earned a permanent place in my heart. I know she resorted to cutting her ear off simply because she had no time (literally about ten seconds in the anime) to effectively take her tracker out with Isabella nearby, but damn girl! Ya gotta be so strong physically, mentally and emotionally to even pull off a stunt like that. Fair reminder that she’s only eleven!

The squad!! I love these kids, but I wish the majority got more spotlight, aside from Don, Gilda and Anna. The rest don’t do too much in the story? like they’ll have their own moment but the impact of it ranges from impactful to forgettable. I just wanna know more about them individually too. But yes, huzzah, big relief washed over me seeing Ray still alive.

OH! And see! The time once again! Manga basically telling us it had to take about twenty minutes for everything post-match drop to happen up until Emma reunites with the group, so the fact the anime had that whole operation finished seconds after midnight is so strange to me.

Much more intimidating than how the anime adapted it, even though this panel kinda ignored how Emma’s palms got a little scorched from catching the match and are now seemingly fine.

Favorite panel/moment:

I dunno, I like the panel of all the escapees and Emma reciting Norman’s words, but I really love this silly one of Ray too??

“I’ll explain later” ... yeah, this shouldn’t give me ch144 flashbacks, but it does.

#the promised neverland #tpn manga #182daysoftpn #chidoroki used chatter

[pers-eids]

i miss my mommy.

i’m twenty-two years old, and i miss my mommy.

maybe it’s because i’m finally moving out, moving on, and this is the last chapter of my childhood that is left, and it’s ending. it’s ending, but not of my own volition; i would stay young forever, if i could, and watch over my brother and sister while they play, and make simplistic lunches for the three of us, because the responsibility always fell to me, and i could try to protect them better than i did. than i have.

i miss being four, before the first of my siblings was born, and knowing with absolute certainty that my mother was mine; that she loved me, that i was her little girl, that she was my mom and nobody else’s. i wasn’t especially jealous as a child—i never fought for her attention, not that i remember, because i was old enough to understand that a baby was the priority. i wasn’t jealous, or overly dramatic, but there came a time in my childhood when the responsibilities of a mother were pushed on to me, and suddenly i was to nurture, to comfort, to protect. she fed them, changed diapers, played out the legal requirements that come with parenthood; all the physical things i couldn’t do because i was too young. i’m convinced if i’d been older then that would’ve been part of my role as well: to provide. suddenly i was all of these things, and the mother that i’d previously had just…disappeared. it wasn’t like she’d never existed, because i saw her here and there in smaller increments, but the mother that i grew up knowing—that held my hand and dolled me up and dropped me off at preschool and raised me the way only a mother ever really could—she wasn’t mine anymore.

i learned about sex in elementary school, as was apparently common amongst my peers, and i knew the word ‘rape’ at nine or ten. what i should’ve known, if my mother hadn’t been so negligent, was that the game i’d been talked into playing several times with the neighbor girl my age was actually assault. my understanding of rape at so young an age was that it was always violent, and it was always done by men to women. i had absolutely no idea that what my little neighbor had done was considered rape. no idea whatsoever. my grandmother, the one on my dad’s side, had always made it clear that children should know the in’s and out’s of their bodies. my christian mother had always despised the idea, just as she despised my father’s mother, and sometimes i want to blame her for what happened to me. if she hadn’t been such a goddamned prude, if she had only explained what intimacy was, and that it was only ever done by consenting adults, i know i likely would have told someone before i completely lost my chance.

then, of course, there’s the events that have occurred between my mother and the other members of my family. there’s the abuse, the narcissism, the neglect, the gaslighting, the hate speech. there’s my two younger siblings who look to me as their mother, who’ve accidentally called me ‘mom’, who have no emotional connection to her. there’s the time she hurt them, the meals they’ve gone without, the danger she’s put them in. there’s my dad, who was a victim to her reign of terror, who loved her despite it, who looks at her now and sees nothing of the woman he loved but still feels guilt for talking badly about. there’s the years of trauma that i am still trying to unpack, to make sense of; screaming matches, weapons being pulled, hissed voices, threats, flinches, hate, hate, hate. there’s the way my mother looks at me like i’m delusional, like i will never know myself the way i claim to, like it’s absurd i ever could. there’s the life i stripped from her by being born, whether it was her choice or not, and the fact that i am two years older than she was when she had me.

i miss my mommy. i regret so much, for the both of us, because a part of me still loves her, will always love her, even through all the pain i have had to endure because of her choices. i no longer believe in god, but i pray for her to whoever will listen, because i know when she prays for me it is with a name i no longer use. i pray she finds herself again, and spends the rest of her life begging my forgiveness, because i want her. i want her to love me, to like me, to see me; it is a type of want that fills up the black, rotted mass of weakened muscle behind my broken ribs, and it is far too great a beast to ignore. i want my mommy. i miss her. it’s as simple a statement as anything, yet i cannot dare to confess it to her face, much less utter it from the tongue she made me.

e.p

#isnt it so beautiful? #i miss her more than anything #and still i am nothing #i am her flesh and blood #but still she sees nothing #mommy issues #original work #writers on tumblr #literature #original poem #poetry #poets on tumblr #poems

[ihateclaws]

This is a story about my Fallout 4 OC Eiden! In this AU Deacon is a shapeshifter. You could find out more in the ficlets or send me asks. Note that Deacon slaughtered Eiden’s whole family before this point.

Should cover all the backstory of Eiden now!

tw: mentioned minor characters death

There were still times when Deacon saw a kid and felt guilty towards Eiden, and lately, he had been around a certain ten-year-old a lot.

“You know full well my father was cheating, had been cheating, and would have continued to cheat if he’s not dead, D. I had been avoiding talking to him for two years by then. It wasn’t the best thing I could do but hey, at the age of I saw the world more black-and-white-ly than the current me, and I still don’t like him,” Eiden half grinned, and the older man could tell it was of the amused sort. “My mom, though.” The grin faded.

“I—” Deacon tried.

“I used to wear this little sweater she bought,” the younger man cut him off, “it was a nice sweater, soft and warm. Loved it. It was a baby blue colour with some floral patterns. Always thought it was cute. But other boys said it was a girl’s sweater, and thereby call me things. She never let me join UP Deathclaw, wasn’t planning to. My mom.”

Deacon waited for a beat, then said: “I’m sorry.”

“What for? We murdered your wife.”

“You didn’t do anything. You were eleven.”

“You were twenty-six, and I’m alive,” Eiden knocked their shoulder together, and the tension broke.

———

Eiden offered to look at Shaun’s programming and inner structure, because several agents, including the tech himself, could swear to whatever’s still up there that the kid has grown. The technician would be the first to admit Railroad couldn’t possibly understand all the Institute technologies in the foreseeable future, but he and Tinker Tom combined together should be able to work something out of the prototype. They needed the kid’s consent, though, and it was a hard issue to address with Shaun. Then Eiden suggested that he could do it.

It wasn’t like Deacon didn’t know where he was coming from, but there was just not a single way to discuss this with Sole without basically recounting his whole life story to them, so that was a hard pass. Eiden gave up without too much fuss.

“But someone has to talk to him,” he said defiantly.

“We’ll talk to Sole,” Deacon promised, “let Nick do it. Let X6 do it. Hell, let Danse do it.”

“Alright, alright, I get the idea,” the boy began to smile.

“We can make dinner for the kid after Danse properly scares him and they both start to cry. Maybe even take him to a toy shop.”

“That’s a bit mean,” and they both started laughing.

———

It was probably a bit too mean for Eiden’s good conscience, because he went to Sanctuary Hill the next time Danse came around, brought Shaun lots of little mechanisms and spare parts, and cooked Deathclaw egg omelette and Brahmin steaks for everyone. Danse eyed the food suspiciously while Sole dig in.

“How did you obtain the eggs?” He asked.

“Plasma mines and a stick of dynamite. The rifle wasn’t even much involved,” Eiden shrugged.

“Mmm, it’s good,” said Sole, “so what’s the occasion?”

“I — was bloodthirsty the other day and am in the mood of cooking today?”

“Try again,” Sole suggested.

———

Okay, judging by Deacon’s knowledge of how good Eiden could lie, this was planned. Cunning little bastard. Good to have him on his side.

Danse looked sick, and Sole was reassuring him they were going to do it really nicely and gently, also definitely on another day and Danse didn’t even have to do it.

“No actually, I think you could do it,” Eiden said calmly, “Shaun likes you, Danse.”

“I’m not — it’s not — I’m not dealing with my newly revealed identity very well,” said Danse.

“Who is, though.” Some silence. Deacon glanced at the tech. “Seriously, you’re a good person. You’re more than capable to handle yourself. You help people. Who cares about the rest around here? Don’t put yourself into those neat labelled boxes; no one should, with you or to Shaun.”

“What he said,” Deacon added helpfully. Don’t be a hypocrite, he thought very loudly, and thank you.

#fallout oc eiden #deacon fallout 4 #fallout 4 #deacon #fallout oc #eidentechsupport #my oc #hy writes! #my bullshit #shapeshifter!deacon #yeah this one's not that great but I can't continue

[dont-be-so-shy]

ok so,,, i think imma try a longfic abt the batkids getting stuck in the yj universe. except batman don't exist so they're not heroes (expect cissie and simon)

so imma introduce you to my lesser-known characters below the cut:

babs, dick, jason, tim, cass, steph, duke, and damian are people most people already know, but we also got luke, simon, wendy, helena, harper, cullen, bette, cissie, isabella, kitrina, charlie, olivia, tristan, riko, colin, and carrie

luke: aka lucas fox, aka one of the two sons and four children of lucius fox, aka a vigilante named batwing and ceo of his own company foxtech

simon: simon dark is a really small-time character. so basically, he was created with a mix of mad science, magic, and twenty dead teenage boy's bodies. yes, i know it's creepy. he has enhanced healing and the ability to use each one of the faces of the twenty boys he's made of. he can also do magic, mostly clairvoyance, which for him means being able to tell the secrets someone's keeping from him and see farther than the horizon. he also has enhanced strength, telekinesis, the ability to psychically link people (like miss martian), and the ability to dimension-travel. in canon, he looks a mess of different skin tones and frankenstein stitching but in my fic, he's gonna be looking like a normal(ish) boy.

wendy: wendy white, sometimes called wendy harris, graduated mit alongside her twin brother, marvin, at sixteen and became a caretaker of titans tower. she and her brother were attacked by wonderdog and she fell into a coma while marvin died. her father is a gotham villain named the calculator, who wanted the anti-life formula (i don’t what it is but apparently it’s really powerful) to wake her up. he was defeated but she woke up on her own. she's paralyzed from the waist down and she became babs' apprentice, codename proxy

helena: helena bertinelli, was supposedly the daughter of a mafia guy and his wife, but it turns out she's actually the daughter of the wife and some other mafia dude. well mafia dude (the bio dad) hates the mafia family mafia guy (the other dad) is a part of, so he ordered to have mafia guy and his family killed (helena had older and younger siblings, i think). he told the killer to spare the lady he had helena with and kill the rest of them but the killer done messed and killed the mom instead of helena. helena hates mafia and crime so when she becomes huntress, she has nothing against killing. she's actually still young tho, she left boarding school in switzerland to come back to gotham and be a vigilante. she's also part of the birds of prey and has been both batgirl and batman

harper and cullen: the row twins/siblings. cullen was attacked by his classmates for being gay but the second time he was attacked, batman and robin (i think it was tim) stopped the bullies. harper, who's insanely good with engineering, became bluebird with a few handmade weapons and cullen stayed home. in my fic, he's gonna be catlad, trained by selina, in the field and coeus, fitting the greek myth theme, when on comms 

bette: bette kane is somehow related to kate kane, who's bruce's cousin and also batwoman. bette was the first batgirl but when dc rebooted she was made flamebird then hawkfire instead. in my fic, she's batgirl in the field and medusa behind the screen

cissie: cissie has no origin story which means i can still make her arrowette in a batman-less world. cissie king-jones is arrowette. and her mom wanted her to be a hero. that's quite literally all i know. she's part of the batfam instead of the arrowfam for some reason tho 

isabella: isabella ortiz was part of we are robin under the name robina, and is canonically dating duke. in my fic, she's dating harper instead 'cause duke is dating cullen. anyway, she's poor and also, her dad doesn't know she was part of we are robin 

kitrina: kitrina falcone is the youngest falcone who didn't wanna be mafia so she idolized catwoman instead. she was accused of betraying the family so she ran, becoming kittyhawk and helping catwoman and penguin. in my fic, she's known as stray instead 

charlie: charlie gage-radcliffe aka misfit is a metahuman with the ability to teleport (she calls it 'bouncing'). she didn't wanna be a hero and she couldn't teleport with people without killing them, so when her apartment building burned down with her mom and newborn sibling inside, she ran according to her mom's wishes. she resurfaced as batgirl, but when babs finally cornered her, she gave it up and became misfit instead, tagging along with the birds of prey 

olivia: olivia carr was kidnapped by the dollmaker and brainwashed into becoming part of his 'family'. when jim gordon was also kidnapped, he helped her escape and told her to give a note to batman on the gcpd's roof. she was later handed over to a gcpd cop while batman went to save the commissioner but it turned out the cop was crooked and wanted to sell her to some kidnappers so she slit his throat and ran away. she goes by mannequin 

tristan: tristan grey goes to damian's school along with maps, olive, and pom and a few others. he's a metahuman with enhanced vision, strength, and the ability to "transform" somehow 

riko: riko sheridan was also part of we are robin under the name r-iko. she was actually expelled from damian and tristan's school (damian was too actually). she idolizes batgirl, which is why, in the fic, i gave her the name black bat while cass is orphan 

colin: colin wilkes aka abuse is basically a ten-year-old hulk with control over his hulkiness. he's damian's friend and an orphan who got his powers thanks to kobra venom when he was trafficked 

last but not least, carrie!: she's technically from an alternate universe and was robin after jason instead of tim, then catgirl, then batwoman. in this fic, she's catgirl. she uses a slingshot 

#simon dark #luke fox #carrie kelley #wendy white #helena bertinelli #harper row #cullen row #tristan grey #riko sheridan #colin wilkes #cissie king-jones #isabella ortiz #kitrina falcone #bette kane #olivia carr #charlie gage-radcliffe #batfam #batkids #dimension travel #ao3

[xavadak3davrax]

Primed for Sin / George Weasley

Actor!George

Primed for sin

George x Fem Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), female receiving pleasure, unprotected sex, dirty talk, fluff, angst (?).

Summary: George is a famous actor and y/n is starting her career in the cinematic world.

a/n: So basically actor George came to my mind in a ‘puf’ moment. I had to write it for George because I felt like he deserved another moment after I wrote four parts por Prince Fred ahah.

☾☾☾

George started his career in acting like any other person. He grew up loving everything related to movies, series, music, he loved acting. It had started in the small school plays his mother, Molly, made him participate in. In the first ever school play George remember being so embarrassed because none of his friends were in it.

But then he got the taste of what it was like to have people clapping and enjoying and his love for acting started there. Let’s just say after that Molly didn’t make him participate in anything. He did that on his own. He had everything to thank his parents and family for. Because they were the ones who were there for every single play George was in all throughout his school years. Fred, his twin brother was the one who helped George make all the costumes and necessary things for the play he was gonna be in, since his parents weren’t rich and just couldn’t afford to pay someone to do that for them.

It was Ginny and Fred, and then later Molly and Arthur who convinced George to audition for the first movie he ever participated in. George was eighteen at the time was finishing up high school, along with working a part-time job at the local ice-cream store when the opportunity presented it self. When he saw the ad he was finishing up work, it was late and he had been so tired because it was peek summer time and a good ice-cream was what people were looking for. The paper was on the ground all wrinkled up because so many people had step on it already. But George took one good look at it and his heart felt all kinds of weird. Was that a sign?  Should he take it had one?

He took the paper with him, but that night he told nobody about it. He left himself to think about it, what it said and what he read. And laying in bed that night, in the bedroom he shared with his twin brother he fell asleep thinking about a better future for him.

The next morning Ron, his younger brother had found the paper in the pocked of George’s jeans. George had forgotten it there and that’s when he thought he had made a mistake. But the events that happened next told him otherwise. His mom was so thrilled about that idea than when he woke up and came to the kitchen to have breakfast with all his family the first thing he got was a bright smile from his mom and then a tight hug.

“George you gotta audition for it.” His mother had said, he was a little confused and took him a moment to realize what she was talking about. But when he looked at Ron and he shook the little paper he knew they now knew what had consumed his thoughts all night.

George ended up auditioning for that movie after he saw how supportive his family was of it and how they seemed to find this a great opportunity for him. That was the first movie he ever started in.

Turns out being a tall ginger haired boy has it’s perks and people seem to want a lot of him. He stared in a lot of small movies before he actually had his break through. The movie that actually put him in the spot light was a romance movie, where he was for the first time ever since staring in films, the main character. Until then he had only been in the not so important positions.

George was twenty-one when that happen.

He was now twenty-five and people came from every part of the world begging to have him started in their movies. His agent, Leah was always denying people because George had a busy schedule. When his acting had started to grow and the money and fame had started to grow George also started doing something more than just acting. He volunteered in numerous occasions, he also donated a lot of money and was always made sure he was working towards a better world. But being nice here didn’t mean he was nice when it came to his main career.

Leah had warned in various occasion to be more cautious and careful and nicer because he had lost a lot of opportunities because of his bad attitude. George always clamed it didn’t matter because he never stopped getting other more amazing ones.

So now, while he’s finishing up the knot on tie, turned to the mirror eyes focused on what his doing, he’s also rolling them from time to time while he listens to Leah. George was to star in a movie that was expected already to be nominated for numerous grammys and other awards. He didn’t even had audition, he was the chosen one from the beginning and they had also asked him to be part of the process of choosing the other main character he was going  to act with. So now he was getting ready to go to that meeting and Leah was going on about how he should be nice and should behave.

“Please George, this is very important, and don’t forget, they picked you for this but that doesn’t mean you can budge in and deny everything. If they find someone they like and the majority agrees, you have to go with it.” Leah said, finally looking up from the Ipad and locked eyes with George. They were the same age, George had hired her after his second good paid gig when he understood things could be better for him and he needed someone to manage all the stuff he was to unorganized to do. Leah at the time was someone who had just lost her job, was looking for anything to do and George had swooped in and helped her. She was so grateful for that, but it didn’t mean she was gonna give him an easy time. George was grateful for that. He liked that she was hard on him, that’s what he needed to keep himself focused on what was important.

“I’m gonna give my opinion. I’m sorry Leah but didn’t they chose me to help?” He questioned, now turning around to her, his hands smoothing the fabric of his black jacket. When she didn’t say anything he continued. “They did. And so if they did that it’s because they need my expertise on the matter so I’m not gonna hold back. Besides when I started this years ago people were hard on me and that’s how I got to where I am today.” He stated, coming down the small step from the zone in his room where he usually got ready. He smiled at her when he passed her and then went towards the leaving room.

“George, I know, but you have to be nicer. Besides there’s gonna be a lot of people where it’s gonna be a first time going to such a big audition. Please, I beg you, have some consideration.” Her voice was pleading. George sighed heavily and before he responded he was already nodding.

“Okay, okay, I’ll see what I can pull of.”

The smile Leah had on her when he turned around was massive.

☾☾

“George thank you so much for coming in.” Said James, the director of the movie, along side him was the scrip writer and then the author of the book the movie was inspired in. George shook all their hands, a fake smile on his face. Although he enjoyed the opportunity, he never really liked a lot of the people who worked in this universe, some of them were to fake for him. “There’s a big queue outside so this might take some time, but I’m sure some of them won’t even make it pass de minute mark.” The guy gave a laugh that had a lot of negativity to it. And Leah was worried that George was gonna be the mean one.

“So since I see everyone is here, should we just get started?” George asked, trying to conceal the little boredom in his voice. When they all nodded, they went to their designated places in a small very brightly lit room ready to star.

The first ten girls that came in George thought they didn’t even know exactly what they were auditioning for. Although with the script in her hands, none of them was able to form one sentence that didn’t have a mistake in. or that completely changed the meaning of that it was actually suppose to be.

Then they found a girl who was good and performed well but they couldn’t accept her in that moment so they told her they would contact her. George thought it was impossible to find any better than her and she wasn’t even that good, she was just able to say the part of the script she was asked to, without any mistakes.

And also because he was loosing all hope, it had been two hours of this and they had only found that one girl. No other seemed to fit the role of what they were looking for. Until y/n came in.

y/n had been preparing for this audition for a whole month if not more. At only twenty one y/n thought her life was a complete mess. Almost all of her friends had finished college, some already working for big firms, some married, some with kids. They all seemed to have a path in their lives. Y/n? Well in this moment exactly she was swimming in debt, leaving in the cheapest apartment she could find and working full time at a supermarket near her house. Her plan since she was little was to become an actress, y/n loved every aspect of what it entailed. She loved to go to the movies and think it could be her one day on the big screen. She liked when she saw people around her clap at the end of an amazing movie and think maybe, just maybe one day people would clap for her too.

The luck was on her side when the audition was to be on the same day she had her day of work. But even if she hadn’t Piper, her work friend had already made plans to change days with her just so she could go to this audition. She was the most supportive friend y/n now had regarding her dream. Let’s just say all of her friends with their big lives sometimes pitted her for still being so stuck. y/n although a very negative person in life, thought that this was just a small little bump in the road and that one day she would get what she so hard worked for.

So for the past month every time y/n had a small window of a chance she was preparing herself for this. It wasn’t her first audition, but it would be her first big audition. She new the ‘jury’ was gonna be composed of big people, including one of her favorite actors (George Weasley) and one of her favorite writers (Clara Hart), so what better mix than that? She didn’t know any. She wanted to give her best on this, to be prepared for anything they might throw at her to see how good she is. And so she tried to prepare in her head any possible scenario.

So when she opened the door gently and looked at all of them staring right at her, the confidence that she was made of suddenly disappeared, and she was left nervous and speechless until she hit the yellow line on the ground were she should stay to then perform.

“So, please state your name and date of birth please.” The director spoke, she knew that because he had a plaque in front of him with his name and his position, so had all the other. y/n let her eyes follow every person on the table, and she swallowed hard. Now in front of two of the people she liked most she felt like she would never succeed. What if she made a fool of herself? What if they just plain and simple didn’t like her? What if they wouldn’t even give her a chance to do better? Shit. Everything was coming at her, at once. y/n gave a small smile and stated her name. “Good, now please turn to page twenty on your script and we would like you to do that scene, George here is gonna do his part.”

They were choosing different scenes throughout the script to make sure they got the full view of it, but always making sure they chose scenes where George was included because they wanted to see of both people would work together. For them it was important to choose people who had some type of chemistry, so the movie itself would work out better.

y/n nodded, turned to the page in question and then look at George who was looking at the script. He was the first one to start so she was ready for him to do so. But he stayed silent, and after a few minutes talked.

“What are you waiting for?” George spoke rudely, y/n was taken aback by that.

“Ahm- i- I’m sorry but you start.” y/n spoke very quietly a little scared of his tone of voice. The director got close to George and pointed to the scene in question, he then nodded and without any warning or preparation after what he just did he stated spilling out the lines. y/n quickly got back to herself and did her part.

After they finished that and made y/n do a scene of just herself, it seemed like forever before they said something. They were writing in their papers (well, all besides George, he was just looking at them) and then they were talking very quietly in inaudible whispers between themselves. And y/n was just left standing there, her eyes looking everywhere but the jury.

“So, miss y/l/n…” The write spoke this time, she unlike the director and George, had a kind smile on her face. “We have your contact here, expect a call in the next seven business days about your situation.”

She could feel her heart beat so fast and for a second wondered if anyone else could hear it. Shit, she had never gotten that answer before. She had been rejected had soon as she had finished. But now… now she had chance, this meant she had a chance. She was elated, she couldn’t believe it. When they kept looking at her she realized she had still not spoken.

“So sorry, yes, of course, thank you so much.” She said, smiled and then went on her way, not wishing to stall them anymore given they still had a lot of people to audition. That didn’t mean she got the part, she bets a lot more girl were given that answer, but for her that momen was a big win for her.

But what if they had said that out of the kindness of their hearts because the actor had been rude to her? Had that been it? Was his action so bad that they felt bad for her and decided to giver a thread of hope? Oh no, please no, let it no be it y/n thought nervously, it couldn’t be. She wanted to believe that they had said that because she performed well and deserved a chance at the part she auditioned for.

☾☾

It had been four days. Four long and tiring business days of y/n waking up, getting dress in her sleepy state to go to work. For days of just existing at her work because her anxiety was too much for her to handle. They said seven days… but it wouldn’t actually take them that long right? They probably just had said that because they felt bad for her, and had found someone way better than her.

“y/n, please, please, stop walking around like the world is gonna end.” Piper said coming up behind y/n and putting her hands on her shoulder shaking her gently. “You are gonna receive that call, and you’re they’re going to accept you and you’re gonna leave this shitty job and get us a nice vacation somewhere sunny.” She said, earing a small laugh from y/n who then turned to her friend, teeth bitting on her bottom lip, a nervous tic she had.

“But what if they don’t? I mean do they really take this long? I mean I know they probably found a million other girls who are suitable for the part, but for days?” y/n clearly exaggerated on the ‘million part’.

“Yes they do y/n, because this is a big movie and they need to get the person to act with the George Weasley to be the best of the best. They just haven’t realized that’s you.”

“Thanks for the positivity. I’m just gonna scan this fish sticks in and the  work on the toilet paper isle to take my mind of this.” y/n gave her a look of ‘thank you really’ and then left to do her things.

She was leaving work at seven, the summer breeze hitting her face, her eyes puffy from tiredness and maybe from a little bit of crying. She lived close to the supermarket so she was going on foot, the walk barely hitting the ten minute mark. But it was when she was close to her door that her phone rang. She picked it up, not looking at the ID because she thought is was piper who had forgotten something.

“Yes?” That’s all she said, before she thought piper was gonna burst in, distressed because she had forgotten something important. But the voice on the other side was male.

“Hi, is this y/n y/l/n?”

“Yes this is she, who am I speaking to?”

“Hi, I’m James, you audition for the movie I’m working on.”

The bried moment where y/n’s thought were not on the movie and so she had a small window where she didn’t feel anxious stopped completely and abruptly and her anxiety came back like crazy. Were they calling her because she hadn’t make the cut? And in the world was she, a somehow positive person, thinking the worst lately?

She thinks it’s because of the crazy amount of bills pilling up in her coffee table because her salary isn’t enough to pay all of them at once so she had to pay them given their priority and need. She usually pays rent, and with the rest of the money that’s left water or electricity. And tries to put some aside for some food, after all she had to survive.

“Ahm yes, yes, sorry.” She apologized when she realized she had stayed quiet for longer than she thought and james had asked if she was there.

“Amazing. So I don’t how to say this in other words other than, I would like you to at this address,” he stated said address “on Friday by nine does that work for you?”

“Sure, yes, but may I ask why?” y/n was lost, why did she need to be there if she didn’t even know if she got the part or not? They were trying to make her look like a fool.

“Because we’re gonna have a meeting and need the two main actors in the movie presen-“ he didn’t get to fisnish the sentence because the scream with had been holding up for what feel like forever finally got out. On the other side James had a smile on his face and his phone way from his ear.

“Thank you, thank you so much I will be there.”

And then they hang up. And for a long moment y/n stayed at the for of her apartment speechless, hands shanking like crazy, her eyes watery but a smile on her face. She got it. Her first ever movie, and a big one at that.

All those millions of auditions where she was left crying because she felt like wasn’t good enough, they now didn’t matter. Didn’t matter because she got the part. And she felt the happiest she had been in a long, long while.

☾☾

“Ok, I’ll hang up now but good luck and call me when you leave.” Piper said swifly, knowing y/n was about to enter her first ever meeting. The begging of her dream career. She hung up, put the phone in the back pocket of her jeans and breath in deeply.

She decided to not dress any of the old jeans she used for her (now old) work. So she used on of the best jeans she had, she might’ve worn them too or three times before that, and pared then with a nice blouse and one of her best jackets. Since she didn’t have anything fancy, she wore her tennis. They were kind of old but maybe no one would notice. She got close to the door and knocked three times and when a voice came from inside saying ‘come in’ she did.

She was met with a cute girl, she was the same height had y/n, she had black hair and brown eyes and was looking intensely at y/n. Next to her was George Weasley sitting in of the green colored sofas, one of his legs on top of the other and a phone in his hands.

“I’m Leah, pleasure to meet you. You must be y/n?” She nodded unable to form any kind of sentence in that moment. “I’m George’s assistant. We came in early in case you decided to arrive early as well.”

“Ahm yes, it wouldn’t look nice of me to arrive late.”

“No it wouldn’t.” George said, looking at her with hard eyes, for a moment and then back at his phone.

“Excuse him, he’s a grumpy old man when he had to get up early.” y/n tried no to laugh at that and then sat herself in the chair Leah had pointed to, and then she sat next to her.

“I made him do this because I know this is your first your first ever work related to this. And I you choose to accept some advice I’m more than willing to give it you.”

y/n couldn’t answer her in that moment because they heard the door slam hard, and when Leah looked at the sofa the place where George was empty.

“Like I said, a little moody in the mornings but no worries. Since he left we can do this in silence.” She smiled, and then proceeded to start explaining some brief stuff to y/n. y/n felt that the small amount of time she had with Leah made her felt less nervous. Leah helped her navigate through this new world and how she thought things would go for this movie. “Don’t worry about George, he’s gonna give you a hard time but I’ll give him a harder time.”

“He doesn’t really like the fact that they chose me the, I assume.” y/n gave a nervous laugh, trying to ease the moment.

“It’s not like that. George just thinks they should’ve hire an actress in a name, and experience and no someone who’s doing this first time…” She pretty much had agreed with what y/n had said, but she decided not to dwell on it much longer. “But everyone else loved the way you acted and showed a different passion in the way you acted, you are what they need for this. George just as to suck it up.”

They both laughed together, being interrupted by the door opening and George coming in with the rest of the people, James, Clara included.

“You’re already amazing, let’s get started then.” James said happily, sitting down and giving everyone a gesture to do the same. Leah stayed next to y/n, and George sat next to Leah. Because of the conversation Leah had with y/n before hand she didn’t feel as lost as ever. She understood points and things that were necessary to do. They were also talking and planning how things for the movie would work out, how y/n and George should meet to stage and act the many ,many scenes they had together. How it was important because it created chemistry and the right mood they were looking for in the movie. At the end, after they asked if anyone had any questions, they got up to leave. y/n stayed in her sit even though George had gotten up.

“I think we can take the time to talk about the meetings you both have to do.” Leah said, but she was looking at George because he was the one who was ready to leave.

“You can both talk about that, you have my schedule make her work around it.” George said, looking at Leah. “I have a date with Madison now.” Madison was a singer George had been talking and seeing for a while now.

“y/n doesn’t have to work around anything George, you both have to compromise.”

“No it’s ok, show me is schedule and I can work around it.” y/n tried to make this moment less tense, and soften the angry look Leah had. George smiled cynically and then left leaving the both alone. “Really it’s ok, I have more free time then him. We just gotta work things out so I can organize myself. I have to catch the bus and all of that so it’s better if I know before hand what to do and where to go.”

“Thank you y/n. But I’ll still have a talk with him, he cannot act like this, it’s rude and disrespectful and you are both gonna be working together so he better stop acting up.”

☾☾

“y/n is about to arrive, can you please put on some nicer clothes?” Leah exasperated, hands in the hair and her face showed stress. She had arrived about half an hour ago expecting George to be ready in some nice comfy clothes, with his breakfast eaten and ready to start whenever y/n appeared at the hour they had established. But instead George was hungover in his bed, only in his boxers, still soundly asleep. Leah had to come in, wake him up loudly and make him get is ass up from the bed to get ready.  He go up still in his boxers and went down to his kitchen to eat what Leah had kindly prepared for him to eat since she knew in his state he wouldn’t prepare much less eat anything.

She watched George move lazily around his house, going to his room to dress something nicer. That ended up being some grey sweatpants and a t-shirt that had some sex quote on it.

“I won’t be here while you both work on the script, but please George be nice to her. y/n is new to this and the least we can do is be nice and helpful. She’s gonna make mistakes but so do you and you are a big actor. So instead of being a dumbass, try and be just dumb.” George flipped his middle finger at her.

The door bell rang and Leah got up excitedly. She was the one who went to open the door, while George put a yellow marker and a pen on top of the script that had been sitting at the top of his dinning table for what feels like forever now.

“Hi y/n. George is in the dinning room, it’s the door to the right.” George heard Leah say and then continue. “I’m not gonna be here so you can both concentrate on the work, but…” and then he stopped listening because she lowered her voice to much for him to be able to hear. The last thing he heard was the front door to his house close and then steps that let him know y/n was getting close.

“Hi.” She said, front the door of the room, she was in comfy clothes, some leggings a sweat shirt and instead of the old shoes she had on the day of the audition she had some sandals. “beautiful house you got here.”

George wanted to growl. He wasn’t here to talk about anything else other than his work. He didn’t wish to make any other conversation other than the necessary one. So was she talking?

“We should get started. I have some meeting in the afternoon and would like for us to make some progress.” y/n nodded quickly, pulling her bag from where it rested and taking her things out. George noticed her script had already written stuff on it along with some highlighted parts. So she had been working, and George had nothing written on it and didn’t really even know where to start even after Leah had asked and warned him to work on it. y/n let her eyes fall on the papers in front of him and then to him again and when she saw the awkward look he had she felt the need to say something nice to ease whatever he might be feeling.

“Look, I took some notes of where I think we should start and something I think we should do in each part to help us get this write.” She started, and pushed her papers towards him for him to see and read. George nodded and took a look at all her little notes. She had a beautiful writing. When he nodded she continued. “Yeah? You agree?” he nodded again. “Great so let’s start.”

“You should seat first, so we’re both more comfortable.” George reminded her when he saw her still standing up.

George realized during the time they started talking that maybe he was wrong in judging her so soon. y/n knew what she was doing, she had worked hard to get everything to his liking and every time they had to try again on a scene wasn’t because of her but because of him. Because somehow he let his mind wonder a bit to much during these times, and also because she looked soft in that hoodie, we thought he could squish her gently and kiss the top of her head, and then hug her closely to him. He was gonna do all of that, the movie had more than enough scenes for them to hug, be gentle with each other and even kiss. What would it be like to kiss her? George wondered. Maybe her lips would be soft, they looked soft right now. Maybe she would taste like mint, or a fruit, like strawberry or lemon. Lemon looks like a bad choice, but he loved the sour taste of it. And her hands, what you they feel like holding his face while pulling him closer to her so they could kiss, would they be cold? Leah had told him the other day how y/n’s hand were always cold, but always soft. She moisturized.

“George? Everything ok?” George looked at her, a little embarrassed because he had zoned out on their conversation and so he had lost the last paragraph of what she said.

“Sorry.” He apologized and asked her to repeat what she had said so he could say his part.

And the meeting itself was not half had bad had George had been dreading it to be. How he thought each minute would drag out, how three hours of this would probably look like a whole day to him. No, instead, three hours felt like five minutes because y/n was easy to work with. It almost looked like she was doing this for longer than him and had more experience than him. She took this very seriously and George wanted to punch himself because he didn’t believe she would.

“So this sums it up for today.” y/n was putting all her things back in her bag, she had a content smile on her, feeling like they had accomplished so much in such little time and this being their first encounter of many before they would start shooting in just a month time.

“Yeah, we did a lot. Do you know when he have another meeting?” He felt stupid asking this, he should’ve waited and asked Leah about this, maybe then y/n wouldn’t think so low of him. Think how he couldn’t manage his time well at anything that he had to have Leah do everything for him. It was not like that, George was busy outside acting. Being as famous as he was he felt some kind of responsibility to show other famous people what it was like to do good.

He grew up poor, like so many other did, she just wanted his fame to not go to his brain. Every time he felt like that was happening to him he would go to Fred, his twin, oh boy he would definitely bring George back to reality.

“I mean it almost everyday.” She said casually, his scared face made her laugh. “I’m joking. We have another one this week and then the rest of the other weeks until filming is only once a week. But I think this went so well we have nothing to worry about. But if you do feel like we should work more just have to let Leah know, and she’ll talk to me.”

George nodded and watched her get up, all her stuff already put and she was ready to go.

“Well it was a pleasure working with you face to face for the first time Mr. Weasley, see you next time.”

And then George was left alone to all his thoughts.

☾☾

They were now only a few days way from the first day of shooting and today was the last day they had their meetings. This time Leah was present because after hearing George talk so much about how amazing it had been she needed to see for herself. In general in any of the other movies she had seen George work in he never really had any closeness to the person he was acting with. So this was a first.

“Look who it is, the man of the hour.” Leah said, she was on one side of the kitchen isle turned to the stairs in George’s apartment, and y/n had her back to him.

“Morning Leah, morning y/n.” the look y/n gave him gave him chills. He still wasn’t use to this weird feeling every time she looked at him.

After their first meeting George tried to really keep those thought to him, to not let it get to his head and ruin everything. But every time y/n came she looked even softer, even cuter and it was impossible for him to feel some type of way for her. She just squished herself in his heart and now had a small place in it. He wasn’t rude anymore.

“Leah is watching us today. My first audience.” y/n joked, making George laugh and look at Leah.

“Great. After this I think we could all for lunch. My treat?” George asked looking at both of them. “Just you know to celebrate this last era of just us, before the big part.” They both nodded agreeing to him.

☾☾

When y/n entered the studio where they were going to film for the first time, she felt small. Everything was so big and bright and everyone was talking to someone but she had arrived alone, after taking a three buses and almost loosing herself. She looked around, looking or Leah who said she would be close by the entrance to help y/n. She assumed George would already be getting ready to start shooting the scene they were to start today.

When she walked a little more people started looking at her and she started to overthink everything she did. What she wore, how she walked and if her hair was messy. Shit, it could be. The wind outside was crazy.

“Y/n come on.” Leah came up to her side and grabbed her hand, everything went so fast that she didn’t have time to see were she was being taken. Leah had been a guardian angel in all of this, helping y/n through everything and managing both her and George. “George is almost ready, and I cannot believe it, you two are gonna be amazing.”

y/n nodded nervously, and closed herself in her trailer to get ready. Everything laid out for her. And she tried not to be late, and she was able to get to the scene just in time. George taking the rest of what was left of her breath, way. He was in a back suit, green tie and his shoes were black and shinny. The scene in question was not the very first scene of the movie but something more towards the middle, so this scene had touching and some kissing. y/n had made sure she washed her mouth extra good this morning. George came in to hug her, a gesture that had became normal between both of them.

She wrapped her hands around him, they hugged each other tightly.

“You’re gonna do amazing.” He whispered in her ear, y/n shivered, George noticing it, a smile on his face.

“Ok, everyone in your place.” James said loudly. And George and y/n hurried to their places. She gave one last look to Leah who was next to James, her face happy and she gave them both a thumbs up.

y/n started to say her line. Following what the script had, George had his hands on her waist, y/n had hers on his shoulders and slowly they would go up his neck. He was leaning in close to kiss her. Although having to show a certain emotion on screen, the way her heartbeat faster with how close he got was a different emotion. She felt her hands sweat a little and wondered if he would notice when she got way from him.

George whispered something, just before their lips touched. Her fingers closing in around the fabric of his suit, tighten her grip even more when their kiss deepened. And when he pushed away his eyes never left hers.

The scene continued until a little after, so y/n had to bring herself back together and not let anyone understand how she felt after kissing George. When James yelled ‘cut’ she let out a deep breath she hadn’t realized until then she was holding.

“You did amazing.” George said, although with the amount of people around them he wasn’t scared of being a little to close to her. Although he should because rumors with any girl he was with flared up like crazy.

“Thank to you and your helpful very experienced tips.” She nudge his side and they both walked up to meet James and listen to some helpful advice from him.

☾☾

They way things were going amazing was to good to be true. George started inviting y/n after their time on set to just spend some time with him, at first the excuse was that they should work a little more on their scenes, but after the third time y/n stopped biting it and he just had do admit he genuinely wanted to spend some time with her.

So they were both longing in his enormous sofa, watching one of George’s movie because y/n had instated in doing so. George was a little embarrassed he usually never watched his own movies outside the first time they aired on the cinema. He liked to just think they didn’t existed. Not that he didn’t like the job he did, he just didn’t like to look at himself for long periods of time. But y/n had bugging him about it of for so long and the day she gave him those puppy eyes he gave in.

y/n had her legs on top of his, she was in some comfy pajamas because sometime she ended up falling asleep on his sofa and he couldn’t bring himself to wake her up and sent her home, not when she looked like a true angel. So he advised her to bring her pajamas so she would sleep comfortably.

“You look too good.” y/n laughed when a particular scene called for such statement. George rolled his eyes and looked at her.

“This is the last time I’m ever doing something like this. You watched them by yourself from now on.” He stated pretending to be angry, but y/n knew he was playing.

“Shut up, you love it. Every second of this you’re enjoying it.” She nuzzled herself closer to him but when that position of her legs on top of his was not enough closeness to her she decided to change. Turning around so now her head was on his lap and one of his hands came up to gently stroke her hair, her eyes immediately started closing, because it felt so nice and she was tired but she hadn’t realized until that moment.

“If you continue that I’m gonna fall,” she was interrupted by a yawn from her part, “I’m gonna fall asleep.” She finished, eyes already closed and her hands on the thigh she had her head on.

“It’s ok.” He whispered. She did end up doing just that and George had to get up has careful had he could as to not wake her up. Turned the tv and before he left he covered with a thick blanket and the went to his room.

It was about two in the morning when y/n woke up from a wet dream.

She was confused. Her hair was all over her face, some in her mouth. She felt sticky between her thighs and when she uncovered herself she look to see a wet spot on her pajama pants. How? How had it happen? Her and George and been close yes and friendly maybe a little to much with lingering touches and some discreet kisses when no one was looking. But was that reason for her to dream such filth? Her breathing was uneven had she got up, her brain and her legs seemingly not connecting while they guided her upstairs towards George’s room. The lights were off so he must already been asleep. With her legs still shaky she stopped at his door, it sounded so creepy to her, standing there looking at his peacefully asleep. But her body craved his touch.

“georgie?” Y/n voice called quietly while entering the room towards his bed, his king size bed. She kneeled at the bottom of the bed looking at him while his eyes slowly opened, his hands coming up to his head to rub them.

“y/n? Everything alright?” His voice was ruff and sleepy and she felt the wetness between her legs become more prominent but she tried to hide it.

“I-i woke up and can’t fall back asleep” she hadn’t even tried to do so. “Can i- can i sleep with you?” She murmured voice small and hand moving nervously in front of her.

“Of course sweet pea. Come here.” He hold the covers of his bed up so she could come in.

At first after she got in y/n stayed far from him. She was already in embarrassed of coming up here and asking him that, and he said yes so now she was in his bed his warm comfort bed.

“You can get closer, come on.” his sweet voice came from behind her, being she had back to him.

She turned around and got closer one hand under her head and the other on his arm. “Thank you.” she said a smile on her face. He gave a gentle kiss to her nose making her scrunch it up but none the less, laugh. She nuzzled even closer to him, letting her head hide in his neck, he felt her breathing there. The closeness they had made him feel hot all over his body and when a particular change of position made his uncovered leg brush close to her he felt wetness. Her breath caught in her throat. Shit had he felt it? He had to, the way his movements stoped abruptly and the way his hand squeezed her, he had.

“I’m sorry” she hurried to say, now very embarrassed because of what she had said.

“Oh my poor baby, did you have a wet dream?” She nodded unable to speak for herself. “Can I?” He asked gently his hand squeezing her also like that and when he got her agreement his hand traveled towards where she was the most warm. “Sweet thing look at how wet you are. Who made you like this?” He asked, curiosity all over his voice. The hand in his arm came to push his hair.

“You.” He was left genuinely surprised at that. He knew they were close and did things not normal for their relationship but he didn’t know she was dreaming of him like this. Hell if he knew he’d done something about it sooner because she was also filling his mind. His hand gently cupped her pussy thru the thin fabric of her bottoms, a moan leaving her mouth and her hips moving against his palm to find friction.

“So desperate.” She could feel his breath now close to her face his lips leaving kisses all over her face. ‘Tell me baby what did you dream of?’ He asked, his hand putting more pressure on her pussy, her swollen clit loving the attention. She mewled continuing the friction with her hips but now a little faster, almost like she was the one choosing the pace. ‘Nuh uh precious. You gotta tell me first, what was I doing in that dream of yours?’ He pushed his hand way stopping all contact and the broken cry that left her almost made him come back, but he wanted her to speak.

“I- you were.” she tried to speak, her voice shaky. “you were fucking me.”

“oh was I baby? And what more?”

“You- you touched me, with your hands, and they- Oh George they’re so big” The leg that was now in between hers was a great opportunity for y/n to buck her hips into it, the touch to her clit felt like it was too much and too little at the same time. He put his hands at her hips to stop her from getting her pleasure.

y/n brough her hands to his and squeezed them both, her eyes looking at him. “They’re so fucking big George shit, and your fingers.” She was so lost in pleasure that thoughts that made sense almost didn’t pass her mind. “Please.” She begged.

George felt sorry for the way she was feeling. George lets one hand slip from her face, down to her shoulder, sliding his fingers along her collarbone. He drags them down her front, dipping beneath the sheets as he cups the soft mound of her breast. A small gasp leaves her mouth, his hand rubbed against her nipples that immediately got hard from his touch. His mouth came to meet hers letting her moan into his mouth, his tongue touched hers and she felt a shiver run down the entirety of her spine. She did taste like strawberries, the ones he had imagine the first day she had come to his house, and she was soft and squishy like he dreamed of. She let her head fall back a little still kissing him, but that deepened the kiss and her hands came to roam his body staying in the line of the boxers he had.

George pushed of her and looked at her, a smile creeping up on his face. He lowered his head, and bit down on her throat while his hand went thru her pajama bottoms and her thin undergarments to finally touch her now bare pussy. She was even warmer now and the gasp that left her lips was marvelous. He gently brushed his fingers thru her pussy, he could’ve sworn he felt her clit twitch against his hands. The urge he felt then was big and he let his thumb slide against the gentle twitching button that was begging to be touched. He first rolled it gently and when mewled little a kitty he took that had a yes and then rolled again but a little stronger this time. Her legs shook wrapping around one of his legs.

“Oh sweet girl you are quivering, this is your sweet spot isn’t it?” She could only nod.

George’s cock twitched with interest again, he’s hard, he doesn’t think he felt this hard ever, and when her hands gain the courage to pull his boxers down his cock came with force slapping against his abdomen, the pre-cum that left the tip leaving them both messy with the sticky substance. He was stiff has stone beneath the sheets that now felt to much.

“Get undressed.” He said, his voice now a little less sweet and more dominant, he pushed the sheets of them because he now knew both of them were hot. And he also took the chance to finish up taking his boxers, the only piece of clothing that he had. He watched intensely as y/n tried to take her clothes of, but her shaky hands weren’t helping.

When he came down again, y/n took his hand and brought it to her chest, he understood the gesture and gave another squeeze and let, after that, his fingers wrap again around the now hard button that was her nipple and pulled, her hand opening but the pleasure consuming her was so much that the moan that was coming out got stuck in her throat.

He then let is fingers stay in her nipple while the other hand came to her pussy and he plunged two fingers into her, she was so wet that he had his hands soaking again with her juices, she was squishy inside and warm and thigh and he could only imagine how his cock would feel. The movements of his fingers in her so slow that she was bucking her hips again against him fucking herself onto him.

“Desperate, sweet pea.” He kissed her throat again and sucked on it again, the other mark from earlier already purple and this would have the same ending. “You want me to make your sweet little dream come true don’t you?”

The fingers he had inside her pick up it’s pace, her pussy convulsing and spasming around his fingers, whimpers and moans were all y/n was able to let out, her brain was mushy and no thoughts were able to form. And as with his quick pace comes a stron movement, her whimpers turn into longer moans her hands shake, she put one hand on his neck and pulled him to her kissing him hard moaning into his mouth, into his tongue.

She’s so close, he can feel it, this is the first time he’s touching her but it feels like he knows her like the palm of his hand, the way she squeezes even harder around his fingers, how her hips look to closer to him, how he knows she feels any sort of touch from him is never enough. Her orgasm is stopped when he pulls his fingers out, looking for eye contact with her before bringing his fingers coated in her wetness to her lips.

“Open baby, taste yourself.” Ans she obeyed, opening her lips slightly, just enough to wrap around his fingers and she sucked fervently on them. She brought both of her hands to hold his wrist as if telling him to stay there. The way her warm tongue enveloped his fingers had his leaking cock bloat even more with pleasure.

He took his fingers out. “Enough greedy baby, I’ll give you my cock now.”

y/n laid back letting him get on top of her, she opened her legs so he could fit in between them, her hands on his back, her fingernails scratching very lightly at his. It made George shiver and loose a little balance. One of his hands was next to her head holding himself up while the other came down to his cock, he stroked it gently a few times, biting down on his lips to suppress a moan, and then positioned himself at her entrance.

She felt his the head of his swollen cock brush up against her hole, and how he pushed in ever so gently letting them both deep in the pleasure of her cunt enveloping his cock for the first time. The moan that leaves her mouth is something out of an adult movie George is almost sure, he pulls out almost all the way before pushing back in.

“Shit-“ his moans his cut of by the pleasure cursing through his body. “So tight around me baby, just perfect for my cock.” His hands that were supporting his body came to change their position. He kneels between her legs, carefully because he was still inside her, and his hands picked up her legs bending them so she was more open to him. He begins to buck his hips against her quicker and more vigorously, their moans filing the whole room, the only sound they could hear besides the snap of his hips against her bottom, his pelvis sometimes brushed against her clit making her tighten her pussy around him.

George doesn’t hold back on his moans, and the way she feels and responds to his moans makes him know that she also likes. When she moves her hips, he bottoms out on her, his whole length inside her touching the spot that makes her shiver and quiver.

“Fuck, George- so deep.” Her hands come to her breast to touch them, moving them around and toying with her hard nipples making her pleasure even stronger. She was throbbing around him. The smile on his face is big, thrusting up into her while also letting her hips meet his, his balls slap around her bum. y/n’s thighs are tense, her orgasm is starting to build, the pressure in her lower belly starting to get stronger, her legs sometimes twitch as if they’re gonna close.

George keeps bumping into her soft, if she was wet before she’s soaking now, her juices coming from her letting a wet noise be heard, squelching noises every time his fucks into her sweet pussy.

“Sweeteste little pussy baby, can’t believe I’ve been dreaming of this and it’s even better than I dreamed of.” His hips flutter a little in his speed when he also starts to feel his own orgasm building up. She’s convulsing around him, her hands are now bunching up the sheets in her hands and she screams. “My best little girl you are, giving your all on my cock ahm?” The growl tha leaves his mouth is grutal and strong and he gives on last hard trhust agains her as she comes around his cock, her juices coating all of him and his whole cock is even wetter, the pressure from her strong orgasm pushes him out of her and his hand immediately meets his cock.

y/n locks eyes with the hand on his cock, his movement rapid and smooth knowing perfectly how to finish himself, and although she’s looking at his cock he’s looking at her, his free hand comes to one of her breasts and toys with her nipple. “Such cute tits, I’m-“ his voice breaks “i-m gonna fuck them one day, one day- shit.” He’s unable to finish his sentence as his orgasm ripples truh him, his whole body shaking and y/n has to bring her hands to help as best as she can with his fall.

Even with limp arms he tries to not put his whole weigh on her but the aftermath of his orgasm makes such thing impossible. His cum his leaving a mess between her thighs, all over that and his tummy and hers and they both feel sticky.

Sticky but happy, as her arms come to wrap around his body hugging him she feels the best she’s ever felt in a while, even with everything in her life going good. But she feels so close to him, she knows for sure she’s falling in love with the man on top of her and she couldn’t wish for anyone better.

“Thank you.” He murmured. “You are amazing.” He kissed her shoulder sweetly and y/n smiled repeating a ‘thank you’ to him.

This made everything that was to come more interesting. How they still had a whole movie to shoot, and how she knew this wasn’t the end and only the beginning of them.

#smut #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley smut

[pocketramblr]

I've noticed after a while (and many posts) that you include Fuyumi-trying-not-to-resemble-her-mother in many of your tags, and I really want to hear your thoughts on that whole character dynamic. Or how you headcannon Fuyumi in general, I'd just like to know more and I haven't seen a lot of people delve into her character. It's always one of the brothers.

*vibrates at a totally normal speed* I would love to talk about Fuyumi yes

Warning: the following headcanons contain a decent bit of projecting. Is it me being a teacher? An eldest daughter? My complicated relationship with the idea of a "traditional family"? Probably all of it

First, if you don't mind a plug, I wrote a oneshot that has like 90 percent of all my fuyumi headcanons in it, The Walls Are Thin, and so. Obvious my headcanon that she's Touya's younger twin has been disproven but I like it a lot so,,, I don't care

So, there are some things about Fuyumi that didn't make it into the anime- manga!Yumi has blue eyes like Enji and Touya, and her arm was also bandaged in the flashback soccer scene when Shoto is talking about their abusive childhood which is very interesting to me.

Now, as for Fuyumi and Rei- I don't think Fuyumi hates her mother. I don't even think she hates her mother but is ok with full reconciliation like she is with her father. But I do think they have a very complicated relationship. Rei was institutionalized when Fuyumi was eleven, and from that moment on Fuyumi basically had to take over the raising of her brothers. Fuyumi lost her mother at eleven and then had to become one herself, because Rei burned her littlest brother.

Fuyumi was a child- and here's the thing. Rei's breakdown was sudden, but not surprising. She looked bad in the flashback right before it, she was begging her own mother for help. She looked sleep deprived and skittish. So even before Rei was sent away, I don't know how much she was actually mothering Fuyumi. Shoto can't really tell us that, and Fuyumi... Doesn't seem to want to think much on her past or give flashbacks to the two of them. So when Fuyumi is eleven, is ten, is nine- she's seeing this happen to her mother as a process. Rei is fading away, and Fuyumi is right at the age to actually begin to sort of understand it and be scared.

Shoto is aware that the marriage was motivated primarily to get a quirk like his. I see no reason that Fuyumi would be unaware of this ether, even when she was younger.

A lot of mental health problems can be hereditary- I remember my mother talking to me about her health history and her own mom's health history bc there's a looooot of problems there lol but Fuyumi didnt get that. She got to see her mother stuck in a hospital for a decade for a breakdown. She got to learn in school that those kinds of things can be passed down to children just like quirks. I'd bet anything that Fuyumi is terrified of having a breakdown like that. Of being like her mother- someone who cared for children that she couldn't protect from Enji for ten years or so, then being locked away when she finally snapped.

There's also her status as only daughter- besides the fact that all the wifely duties were put on her, there are still more expectations. Touya is dead, Natsuo is so ignored he didn't need to be disowned, Shoto is primed only to be one thing: the number one hero. Fuyumi, who has been mothering since she was eleven, would be looked to first for grandchildren.

This isn't to say that Enji ever expressed a single care about that- I doubt he did. But Fuyumi's grandmother was seen in some early flashbacks. I'm not sure if that was Rei or Enji's mother, but either way... Well, she'd certainly talk about how pretty she was. How sweet. How good to her brothers now that her poor mother is away. How obedient a daughter. And even if this grandmother doesn't talk about a quirk marriage explicitly, Fuyumi knows that she either raised a man who looked for one by the age of twenty, or was wholly complicit in her daughter getting one.

Even if, logically, Fuyumi knows her father wouldn't arrange her one- either because she's more useful at the house, or he doesn't pay enough attention, or he's going through a post Kamino character development- there's the fact that she also knows It's Not Impossible. She knows that if her family is as high up as it is and utterly rotten inside, there could be lots of people like that in their social circles. There could be someone who has that sort of interest in her.

Anyway, all that gives Fuyumi some very, very complicated feelings on motherhood and marriage. I don't think she wants either. Ever. She's a teacher, so she likes to work with kids- but we know a part of that is to make up for not being able to help her little brothers. She's full of guilt. I don't think she'd ever be interested in romance or anything else with a man, after seeing how it turned on and utterly broke Rei. And while I do sometimes have Fuyumi as lesbian, I also really think she might be aroace. This adds fun spice where she asks herself things like "wait is this just my trauma or my actual identity" and haha same I'm sorry I project on her a lot anyway sorry Fuyumi,,, you deserve a happy life. A normal life. But you don't get one ♥️

And the normal life thing- that's because Fuyumi is tired. She's tired of being a mother to her brothers. She's tired of having the responsibility of parenting without any of the power or control. She wants to be treated like a normal daughter and sister. And that can't happen if her brothers, esp Natsuo who she saw even more, keeps fully crediting his raising to her. Even if it's the truth, and even if Natsuo loves their mother and had no problem with her- he certainly wouldn't claim Rei influenced him more than Fuyumi did. That's why she's so desperate specifically for him to reconcile.

And she did see Natsuo more- but I think Fuyumi is also very close to Shoto. Closer than he thinks. Not just because her first two appearances are just her trying to protect Shoto by warning him when Enji is pissed off or when he will be, though that certainly helps- she's rather attuned to that stuff, and at least sorta used to Shoto sometimes listening to her about that kind of advice. But Shoto is being shaped deliberately to basically be Enji 2.0 . He has no choice but to be a hero. He has no choice but to train hard and get strong. He's supposed to beat All Might in a rivalry. All that stuff. Fuyumi, likewise, is shaped to be Rei 2.0. Take care of the children. Be soft. Not cut out for heroics. Not able to stop Enji from doing anything. Support Shoto. Cook. Clean. Take over when the housekeeper leaves, because why hire another one when there's a fourteen, fifteen, sixteen year old who can do it? Don't go to anyone for help, because no one who can help you will believe you or want to help you.

Shoto is supposed to succeed where Endeavor failed against All Might.

Fuyumi is supposed to succeed where Rei failed in going against Enji.

And all this, in a house where "like Rei" is an insult that her father shouts- to have her mother's constitution is a terrible thing. It's why her first two brothers were failures. Being "like Rei" means you are weak, and useless, and going to break down, going to be sent away.

And Fuyumi is supposed to be "like Rei", but without any of those bad parts.

Anyway wow this is such a long post.

That's why I think Fuyumi has a complicated relationship with her mother and with her appearance! If Fuyumi had been a boy, there always would have been a housekeeper there. She could have been a big brother- a big brother overly relied on, yes, but not a father. Fuyumi is not a boy. She is "like Rei." She is like Rei, who poured boiling water on a child because he had red hair, and a blue eyes.

So I think Fuyumi looks in the mirror, and sees red lines in her hair, and blue eyes behind glasses that neither of her parents need. And I think she keeps her hair shorter than Rei, and doesn't let it hang long like her mother prefers. And I think Fuyumi looks in the mirror, and sees that she's not just exactly like one or the other of her parents- and I think she says "thank God"

#.... that was really long #ahem #sorry i love fuyumi!!! #and you're right. no one talks about her enough #it's a lot about the brothers #and maybe fuyumi with her brothers #but not fuyumi and rei which really i think it's kinda the juicy one #sure rei 'left' the boys too #but she 'left' her responsibility to fuyumi and that's really different #i think long before Fuyumi decided to forgive Enji- or at least to move on with Enji- she decided to forgive/move on with her mother #in a way that was harder than Shoto forgiving her for one single incident #and very different from Natsuo who never needed to forgive rei #anyway!!! that's everything now i think..... #pocket talks to people #owlf45 #meta

[starrybethany]

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 3

Word count: 4.2K

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Part 5

He looks like the perfect mix of Adam and me. But ever since he started growing his blonde hair out, he’s started to look more like Adam. Sometimes when Holden isn’t acting like a grown up and he allows me to cuddle with him and run my hand through his hair, it brings me back to the times I’ve done the same thing with Adam.

I can’t help but feel flashes of guilt in those moments. He’s shown no interest in his father, but I feel the urge to tell him about him. I don’t want him to get hurt by never having a relationship with his father, but I also don’t want to push him to have a relationship with his father just to get hurt. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Now is one of those rare times when he lets me hold him like I did when he was a baby. I convinced him to watch a movie with me, one of those cheesy Pixar films that I know that he loves. He looks up at me from between my arms, staring up at me with eyes that match my mother’s.

When he was born and opened his eyes for the first time, I was secretly relieved that his eyes didn’t match Adam’s. I just knew it would hurt to have to see a mini-Adam every day. But Holden’s eyes being the same as my mother’s hurt just slightly less than it would if they looked like Adam’s, considering I haven’t talked to my mother in over a decade after a rough childhood. It’s part of the reason that when I decided to keep Holden, I knew I had to go all in and do everything I could to provide for him and give him the best life possible.

“Mom, where did you live before you moved to Colorado?” He questions. Even though he’s lived in Philadelphia most of his life, he’s seen the photos of his toddler self cradled in my arms, the Rocky Mountains decorating the background.

“Chicago,” I answer.

“And why did you move from Chicago?”

My chest tightens at the question, but I shrug nonchalantly. I can’t just say hey kid, I was trying to escape your father. Then he would have more questions and I would put a preconceived idea of his father in his head before he even met him.

“I needed a change in scenery,” I decide on instead. It’s the truth, I did choose to go to Colorado over other states because Alex and Dylan used to show me photos of how beautiful it is.

“And what did you do in Chicago?”

“What is this, twenty questions?” I laugh.

“I’m trying to get to know you,” Holden responds.

“I’m your mother, how are you trying to get to know me?” I tickle him, causing him to giggle. “I worked for the Chicago Blackhawks as a suites advisor.”

“The hockey team?” He furrows his eyebrows. I nod. “Whoa, that’s cool. How the hell did you get that job?”

“Language,” I warn him. “I did an internship with them my senior year of college and got the job offered to me when I graduated.”

“Oh,” he yawns, snuggling closer to me. “That’s sick, mom.”

I laugh, kissing the top of his head. “Yes, it is sick.”

~

I pour the mixed eggs into the pan, waiting for them to sizzle. A wave of nausea suddenly hits me, and I grab onto the edge of the counter, trying to balance myself and swallow the bile that threatens to come up my throat.

I take deep breaths through my nose but that only makes it worse as I smell the scrambled eggs over and over again. I move the pan off of the stove and quickly turn it off, rushing out through the front door to take in gulps of fresh air.

Unfortunately, as soon as I open my mouth, everything that I ate last night comes up.

“Are you okay, honey?” A tender voice calls out.

I look over to see my neighbors, a kind elderly couple, staring at me with concern from their front stoop.

“I’m fine,” I choke out, trying to hide my red cheeks behind my hair. “Probably just the stomach bug that’s been going around.”

They nod, obviously not believing the answer but deciding not to push it. I ignore the little voice in my head telling me that the last time I was this sensitive to the smell of scrambled eggs, an embryo was growing in me.

I enter the house again, seeing Holden planted on the couch in front of the TV. He watches with a questioning expression as I dump the eggs into the trashcan, practically throwing the dirty pan into the sink.

I turn to my son. “New plan, we’re having cereal for breakfast.”

~

“Holden!” I throw his bedroom door open in excitement, totally forgetting our golden rule of privacy.

“Mom,” he exclaims in shock, turning his phone off and flipping it over so the screen is face down on his desk. “Have you ever heard of knocking?”

“Sorry,” I apologize, knowing better. He’s getting to the age of porn and masturbation and that is the last thing that I want to walk in on- having the birds and the bees talk with him was hard enough.

When I found out that I was having a boy and not a girl, that was one thing that I was not looking forward to. And it was just as bad as I thought it was going to be…

“What are you doing home this early?” He glances at the clock.

“Oh, yeah, that’s what I wanted to tell you!” I grin wildly, remembering the reason that I rushed into his bedroom in the first place. “I slept in this morning, like I totally missed my alarm and even when I woke up after ten hours of sleep, I was still exhausted. Anyways, I called work and they told me that it was slow, so I decided to take the whole day off and then I went back to sleep for four hours. When I woke up I went to Target to get some groceries but they have that Starbucks inside and I’ve been meaning to try two different drinks lately and I just decided to try them both and-“”Now you’re completely energized,” he gives me a look of amusement. “Yeah, I can tell.”

“Let’s go out for dinner tonight,” I initiate, “We can go to that cute new restaurant downtown that I meant to try with Winston.”

“Sure, mom,” he rolls his eyes but slowly rises from his bed.

“Oh, and just remember, real sex is never like porn,” I tell him before closing his door behind me.

I can still hear his whine of, “Mom!”

~

“I think I’m going to try the chicken alfredo,” I announce, closing the menu with my order picked out.

“You always get that,” Holden points out.

“And? It’s always good. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it,” I shrug, taking a sip from my cup of Pepsi.

I take a moment to look at my new surroundings. This is the type of restaurant that Winston would love. He loves restaurants that have the brick interior- he always used to say that restaurants that looked like this had the best food.

Maybe I made a mistake breaking up with him. I mean, all he was asking was for me to be honest with him about my feelings. He was trying to do was build a future with me and Holden. Plus, Holden liked him. He’s getting to that age where he might not like all of my boyfriends, shouldn’t I hold onto one that he does like?

“So,” Holden coughs, causing my eyes to snap back to him. He looks uncomfortable, like he doesn’t want to say what he’s about to say or ask what he’s about to ask. “I have to do a project for school on my parents’ lineage. I know all of your stuff, but what about my dad’s?”

I pause, my eyes laser focused on the boy sitting in front of me. He needs to know. But is he asking because he wants to know or because of this school project? Will this school project lead to more questions about his father? I obviously have to tell him the truth, but I wish I would have prepared myself more for this. I could’ve given myself a pep talk in the mirror before having to tell Holden all about his father.

It’s my turn to cough awkwardly. “He’s one hundred percent Swedish.”

“Swedish,” he repeats, nodding. “Okay.”

I freeze. Is that really all he wanted to know? “Do you want a name or something?”

“No,” he shakes his head, drinking from his cup now. “I’m good.”

I nod silently, not knowing what else to say. If he doesn’t want to learn more about his dad, I’m not going to force him. I just hope this project doesn’t bring out some feelings of resentment towards his father or me.

~

I shift on my feet, trying to sooth the searing pain without actually taking my shoes off to give myself a foot massage. But boy, what I would do for a good foot massage right now.

Lia and Rachel giggle to each other and I smile at them fondly, remembering when I was their age and working to be able to my college tuition.

“Lia, I ordered you two more shirts,” I inform the young girl, leaning against the counter to ease the pressure on my feet.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she flashes me a smile. “Hey, what time does the new girl start work today?”

I give her a confused expression. “What new girl?”

“Didn’t Tiffany say anything to you?” Now her expression morphs into one of confusion. “She popped in a couple of days ago and said that she hired another employee and that she was going to start Tuesday, today.”

I fight back the scowl that begs to come out and bite back the nasty words I want to say about the owner. She’s been a shitty owner for as long as I’ve worked here, and this is a good example. A new employee starts today and she’s nowhere in sight.

“She must’ve forgotten to mention it to me,” I settle on saying. I make small talk with the two, catching up on their studies and what they’re doing in their free time. I like to hear about their time in college, it reminds me of all of the all-nighters I used to pull and the times I would leave fraternity houses completely obliterated. Of course, I’m not gonna tell these girls that.

A small girl, younger than Lia and Rachel, appears in front of the counter with a shy look on her face. I recognize the expression as one that the two girls had on their first day here, so I give her a big smile and ask, “Hi! Are you the new employee?”

“Yeah, my name is Marcella,” she introduces herself. I introduce myself to her and usher her behind the counter, giving her an apron with a new nametag on it and show her a couple of things on the machines.

“But I don’t want to overwhelm you on your first day, so you can just observe us today and try it tomorrow, okay?” I request. She nods, a relieved smile on her face. “I’m going to go to the back and grab you some extra shirts that we have until we can order some for you.”

As I shuffle through the boxes in the back, trying to find some that would fit the small girl, I can hear the three talking in the front of the café.

“Is she the owner?” Marcella asks in a hushed tone.

“No, she’s the supervisor, but she might as well be the owner because she does everything the owner should be doing,” Rachel responds. I smile at her answer, glad that someone is seeing the hard work that I put in around here.

“Is she, like, chill?” Marcella questions.

“Oh, she’s very chill. Like you can be on your phone, she doesn’t care, she’s on her phone all of the time too,” Lia says.

“But she’s on her phone because she has a kid,” Rachel points out, “You’re on your phone because you’re Snapchatting the boy that you’ve been talking to for the past four months.”

The three girls giggle with each other as I emerge from the back, two shirts in my hand. My eyes immediately take in Marcella, who’s phone is grasped in her hand now.

That’s not what catches my attention. What catches my attention is her phone case. Tommy Hawk stares back at me with a “miss me?” look on his stupid bird face.

“You a Blackhawks fan?” I try to keep my tone casual as I set the shirts down on the counter next to her, turning to occupy my hands with a spray bottle and a rag.

“Yeah, are you?” She inquires.

I swallow the lump in my throat that appears with the question. Act cool, act casual. She doesn’t know anything about your past, none of the girls do. “No, not really a hockey fan. Just used to live in Chicago and would see the logo everywhere.”

It’s not a lie.

“It is everywhere,” she giggles.

“Well, now you’re going to have to be a Flyers fan,” I give her a smile, hoping she doesn’t see through it to my anxiety.

And when Lia begins to talk about how the guy she’s been talking to is a big Flyers fan, I feel relief flood through my body that I’ve made it through this conversation and into the clear.

~

I’ve been avoiding this for two weeks now. I can’t even remember when Adam and I had sex, but I remember the symptoms from eleven years ago. Swollen feet. Sensitive breasts. Aversions to certain foods- like scrambled eggs. God, I feel like throwing up just at the thought.

But I can’t avoid it forever. I need something to confirm or deny my beliefs. And now, instead of sitting on the shitty toilet in my loft in Chicago, I’m sitting on the toilet that actually works in my condo in Philadelphia.

Time has gone by, but I somehow find myself in this situation yet again. Instead of two tests balancing on the edge of the sink basin, there’s three tests sitting on paper towel on the counter.

I feel less nervous this time than I was when I found out that I was pregnant with Holden. I mean, now I know that I’m a good mom, I’m a good mom to Holden. Sure, I’m not in the best place financially still, but I could find a way to make it work- I did the first time around.

But before I make all of these decisions, I need to find out if I’m even pregnant first.

My phone alarm goes off and I quickly turn it off, taking a deep breath. The nerves start to set in, and I bite my lip in fear.

No matter what happens, I’ll figure it out.

I rise with shaky legs, turning to stand in front of the counter, my eyes meeting the mirror. Slowly, they move down to the three electronic tests.

Positive. Positive. Positive.

Fuck. I run a hand through my hair, lifting my gaze to stare at myself in the mirror. I’m going to be a mom again. I haven’t been a mom to a newborn in twelve years, will I even remember what it’s like to change poppy diapers and make a bottle? I’m older now- not that old- but still, will I want to wake up several times throughout the night to feed an infant?

I mean, at least in Colorado I had a steady boyfriend who willingly shared those shifts with me. Now it’d be me by myself. I’m sure I could get Holden to pitch in every once in a while- shit, Holden.

How the hell am I supposed to tell my twelve-year-old son that I’m knocked up? It’s embarrassing enough to be in middle school, but to have your mom be pregnant will make it all the more humiliating. And the age gap is going to be thirteen years, they’ll have nothing in common with each other. What the hell am I supposed to tell him when he asks me who the father is?

Guess what, kiddo? You two have the same biological father! “Mom,” the kid in question calls out from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Uh, just a minute, buddy,” I stutter, quickly shoving the tests into one of the cabinet drawers, burying it under some pads. He doesn’t go in my master bathroom in the first place, but if he did, I wouldn’t want him to find out about the pregnancy before I could tell him myself.

I throw the paper towel into the trash can and open the door breathlessly, the blonde on the other side of the door giving me a questioning look.

“Uh, you okay, mom?”

“I’m fine,” I answer, exiting the bathroom and plopping down on my bed, patting the spot next to me for him to take a seat. He does. “What’s up?”

“I want to ask you something,” he begins, picking at his overgrown fingernails. It’s his nervous habit, I’ve picked up on it over the past twelve years but haven’t said anything about it. I don’t want him to know that I realize it because then he can hide his emotions from me.

“Okay,” I nod encouraging.

“There’s this programming camp this summer, in Chicago, that I’d like to go to,” he stutters through.

My heart races at the thought of my baby boy in Chicago by himself. He’s grown up a lot in the past couples of months and I know that he’ll grow in the time that he has before he goes to the camp, but I can’t help but feel anxious at the thought of my son with no one to watch him in a big city like Chicago.

“It’s in June, and it’s only for two weeks,” he continues quickly.

“Honey... that’s in a month and a half,” I point out, “It’s kind of last minute to be bringing this up to me, don’t you think?”

“I know, mom, but I didn’t think I wanted to do it and I started thinking about it more and then I realized I really want to do it,” he pleads.

“I didn’t realize you were really into computer programming,” I state softly. If I don’t know about something that my son is so clearly passionate about, am I really that good of a mother?

“Yeah, well, it’s a, um, recent development.”

I nod. “Okay. We’ll sign you up for this camp tonight and then we’ll start getting you ready.”

“Thanks, mom!” He launches himself into my arms and I giggle with surprise, not ready for the sudden action. Nonetheless, I hug him back, cherishing the feeling of my older child in my arms.

“I love you, Holden.”

“I love you, too, mom.”

~

Later that night I lay in bed, darkness filling my room. As soon as Holden left my room earlier to play video games, I pulled out my phone, scheduling an appointment with my doctor to confirm the pregnancy and see how far along I am.

I reach over for my phone, opening Instagram. Adam’s follow request still sits there, untouched. It’s been weeks now, so I doubt that he remembers that he even sent it. Hell, I don’t even post that often, so if I confirmed it, he would barely be able to tell that he’s following me.

But do I confirm it for my son and our future, second child together? Do I message him and tell him that I’m 99% sure that he’s going to be a dad again?

I mean, his track record so far tells me that I shouldn’t do that. He doubted paternity when I told him that I was pregnant with Holden and basically told me to get rid of the baby. He didn’t bother to contact me for thirteen years, and when we did come into contact again, accidentally, he didn’t mention Holden at all or ask about him.

That tells me he’s still not ready to become a parent. It’s been over a decade and he hasn’t come to terms that he’s a dad and that he needs to step up and be there for his child- or children, now.

And I may be a bitch, but I don’t want to give him a chance to hurt this second baby. Even though Holden’s never shown any interest in getting to know Adam, what if this second child does?

What if this baby reaches out to Adam just to get told “sorry, I don’t want you and I never did.” I can’t imagine how much my heart would break for my child if that were to happen. So, with pain radiating in my heart, I decline Adam’s follow request. I’ve gone through one pregnancy without him, I can go through another.

~

Day by day, it’s getting harder to hide my pregnancy from Holden. I wanted to wait as long as I could, or at least until twelve weeks when I know it’s less likely to lose the baby, to tell him that I’m pregnant. I was eight weeks along when I found out but now, I’m fourteen weeks, beginning to show.

I’ve noticed that with this pregnancy I started showing a lot sooner than I did with Holden. My doctor told me that’s normal, that my uterus is already stretched out, so the baby already has space to grow.

I’ve been wearing baggy sweatshirts and T-shirts for weeks now, but I don’t think Holden’s caught on yet.

I stare at myself in the mirror, a prominent bump sticking out from my stomach. I can tell it’s only going to be days until I have to begin telling people about the baby, but I don’t have a few days with Holden.

I drop him off at the airport early tomorrow morning for his flight to Chicago. All he’s ben raving about for the past month and a half has been this computer programming camp- honestly, most of it goes over my head, but I smile whenever he talks about it to me because he gets so enthusiastic.

After seeing him lock himself in his room to play video games all day for months, it’s nice to see him be so passionate about something.

And I hate to tell him such big news right before he leaves for his camp, but if I don’t tell him now, he’ll definitely find out with his own eyes when he gets back.

I drop my shirt, walking hesitantly into the hallway and knocking on his bedroom door.

“Come in,” he calls out.

I open the door to find him hurriedly shoving shirts and shorts into his suitcase that’s laying on his bed.

“Hey, fold those properly so that you have more room in your suitcase,” I advise, taking some shirts from the luggage and folding it into a neat pattern. “And pack some pants, Chicago can still be chilly in June.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, rushing over to his dresser and pulling his pants drawer open.

“I want to talk to you about something,” I tell him, eyes focused on his back.

He freezes in his spot, a pair of black jeans in one hand and a pair of blue jeans in the other. “Okay?”

“Come sit with me.”

He slowly moves over towards me, sitting on the other side of his suitcase. “Okay.”

I take a deep breath, looking him in the eye. “I’m pregnant.”

“O-Okay.”

“Can you say something other than okay?” I question, throwing my hands up in frustration. “Well, is it, is it Winston’s?”

I shake my head, biting my lip.

“How far along are you?”

I squint in confusion, unsure of the sudden change from the questioning of paternity to how far along I am. “Fourteen weeks.”

“Do you know the sex yet?”

“No, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find that out at all,” I admit.

“I think we should find that out when I get back from the camp, together,” he responds nonchalantly, folding a T-shirt laying on the bed.

I can’t help but feel surprised. I thought he would be shocked, upset, angry, I don’t know, but have a stronger reaction than the one that he’s giving me. I guess this camp really is putting him in a good mood, though. It makes me worried of what his reaction is going to be when he returns to Philadelphia after Chicago.

Will he still have that casual approach, or will it finally hit him that it won’t just be the two of us?

“So, you’re okay with it?” I confirm.

“Yeah. It’s about time we get some change around here.”

I chuckle at that, reaching for another shirt to fold. “Yeah, well, we’re about to get a whole lot of change.”

Please fill out this form on what you want the sex of baby #2 to be!!

#adam boqvist #adam boqvist imagine #adam boqvist x reader #Chicago Blackhawks imagine #NHL imagines

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

U N P L A N N E D, part fourteen

It was the same place you met up with Jeff. A cozy corner was open when you arrived, you grabbed a seat and ordered a latte. Two minutes, five, then ten. 

Maybe he wouldn’t show up, make an excuse like so many times before and leave you wondering why people changed their minds. 

But eventually he did, a small smile on his face and an awkward stumble when he realized he didn’t know how to greet you. A hug? A handshake? “Hi--Y/N,” an awkward pause. You did that weird thing, stood a bit when he showed up, as if some form of physical touch was a necessary greeting. But it wasn’t. Instead, you sat back down quickly, folded your arms over your chest and prayed that your bouncing knees wouldn’t shake the table.

“You look great,” he sat down in the seat opposite of you, a white button down had you believing he’d be off to another meeting after this, one without blood ties and maybe it’d be less awkward.

A forced smile seemed to provide a mixed signal in your brain, one that short-circuited the tears and instead left a throbbing in your temples. “Hi, thanks--uh--it’s good to see you.” 

He looked older--certainly his hair was grayer and his eyes had wrinkles on the sides. A decade had worn into him, but he wore the same watch around his wrist that you remembered from long ago. A leather strap, a blue face. 

He settled into the seat, let out a breath and looked down at his hands. “I know this is overdue.”

You let your hands tighten around the mug, unsure if he was going anywhere with his statement. 

“I don’t--uh, I don’t know how you’re handling all of this right now, but, I imagine you’ve got to be exhausted. There’s a lot going on, for you, I guess. I’m glad you were free today.”

A nod, now, you let your eyes trail up to meet his. “Yeah,” you laughed uncomfortably, “saying I’ve been busy is probably the understatement of the century.”

He let out a bit of a chuckle, one that let a flame of nostalgia flicker inside of you. Did you hate him? Could you hate him? No. Could you be mad and think he was a dick and wish that so many things in your life had been different? Of course.

He sat across from you, somehow a stranger and your father at the same time.

“When are you due?”

“January 9th.”

“And you’re healthy? The baby is healthy?”

“Jane,” you said it with confidence. She had a name, she had a penchant for kicking you in the ribs when Harry wasn’t around to feel it and she suddenly made you the biggest fan of hot fudge sundaes. “We’re both good, yeah.”

“I’m sorry it’s been so long,” he spit it out like it’d set his tongue on fire if he didn’t. “I know I haven’t been around as much as I could.”

You clenched your jaw, waited to see if he’d offer something better than that: a better reason for the last ten years of absence.

“I’d been wanting to reach out to you for a bit, and then you emailed me, which hasn’t happened,” he trailed off as if you could infer the last part of his thought.

And maybe you could, you had a feeling he was implying that you hadn’t made the effort either in the last ten years. You ignored the birthday cards, the Christmas gifts or texts for special occasions, stopped telling him about graduations and stopped answering the phone when he’d call every few months. You finally figured out that he couldn’t hurt you if you didn’t give him the chance.

So, sure, you’d written him off a long time ago, and maybe he deserved it, but his words left a sudden weight on your shoulders about the reciprocity that relationships warrant.

But your relationship with your daughter would be different, and her relationship with her father would be, too, right? There’d be no parallels in your life and hers except for the fact that she had a father who traveled for work. Hopefully.

“I thought that you’d find something out on the news eventually,” you admitted. “I didn’t know if you’d care, but--figured I’d get out ahead of it.”

He avoided your gaze for a second, the look on his face let you know your words had stung, but you didn’t feel too bad about it. “Is he--are things alright between the two of you?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, waving a hand as if his question was misplaced. “We’re not together, though. But that’s fine, we’re--we’re making it work.”

“And he’s a good person?”

You nodded quickly, wondering if it’d be too mean to say better than you. Or even why do you care?

But you bit your tongue because you didn’t like being the topic of conversation, and the uncertain state of things between you and Harry wasn’t any more comfortable to discuss. 

“How’s Brenda?” You asked suddenly. “That’s her name, right?”

“She’d good,” he nodded. “Kids are good. Callie’s twenty and Kyle’s twenty-two now.” 

You hadn’t heard their names in a while. They’d always trailed behind his and Brenda’s on birthday cards, as if they had anything to do with the fifty dollar bill he’d shoved in an envelope. 

“And work is good?” He shifted the focus back to you, his eyes were curious when he watched you shift in your seat. 

“Yeah--I, uh, I did get a promotion, but I gave it up. It’s kind of too much right now.”

His face fell. “You gave it up? Why?”

“I’ve got a lot going on,” you said it again, suddenly more defensive than before. “I’ve got a baby due in a month and I’m…” you trailed off, unsure how to answer his question or why he had any sort of opinion.

“Yeah, no,” he leaned back in his chair. “I didn’t mean--you know what’s best.”

You nodded, quiet for a second, reaching to take a sip of the latte you’d almost downed before he arrived. “Why did you want to see me?”

His lips parted at that, the elephant in the coffee shop that maybe he assumed you’d never bring up. 

“I--I just thought that,” he sighed, a big one that deflated his chest when he looked around the room. “I know I wasn’t good at being in touch when you were younger and I know I was too busy and we didn’t see each other enough, but when you were older you didn’t reply to my emails or answer the phone, so--I just--I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to force you to have a relationship with me.”

Maybe it was the hormones, or maybe you hadn’t actually expected him to give an honest answer, but your eyes welled with water and you tried to blink it away. He hadn’t really answered your question, but he kept going.

“I worked way too much when you were little and I moved and that’s on me, but--” he trailed off, the woman at the table beside you closed her laptop and stood to leave. 

“But what?”

“I didn’t know how to have a relationship with you when it seemed like you didn’t want one, Y/N. And when I found out that you were pregnant I figured I should get over myself and make more of an effort, even if you resisted.”

You nodded, unsure if you believed him but hoping it was true. “I guess I always felt like I was second choice,” a shrug, the words seemed to tumble out without much fear. “So I didn’t want to just be the daughter holding you back from a new and shiny life.”

He thought on that for a second, let his hands rest on the table and took a breath. “Things between your mom and I were not good in the end and most of that was because of me.”

You fought the urge to agree. Your mother was always careful to not talk badly about your father, but she’d certainly let a few things slip as you’d gotten older. Forgotten birthdays, a few too many drinks.

“But I let my fear take over and that cost me a good chunk of time with you.”

Quiet for a second, shuffling from the tables beside you, but your world stood still. Words you never thought you’d hear, an admission you thought would never come.

You sighed, “I was too angry to talk to you for a long time because I felt like you just left us behind without a second thought.”

He leaned forward, another nod let you know he wanted you to continue. 

“And I was nervous to tell you about the baby and I was scared to see you today.” Saying it out loud made your heart pick up speed, tiny beads of sweat on your forehead felt like drops of dew on morning grass. But saying it out loud felt like the relief of a pool on a sticky summer day. 

“I’m glad you came, and I’m glad you told me. Maybe we can, I don’t know, try to be in touch more.”

The fear that lit up in your chest when he said it was real. Tingly and sharp and tight. It felt like he was asking you to be hurt, asking you to step into something blindly knowing that it might lead to more pain. 

But what if it didn’t? What if the unknown wasn’t as scary as you’d always told yourself it would be? What if no amount of planning and prepping and knowing could promise a life free from pain or heartbreak or sorrow?

You nodded slightly, looked up at him, and took a metaphorical leap of faith. “Yeah, maybe we could.”

**

Harry was sitting on the floor of his bedroom when you got home that day: a suitcase between his legs and clothes in a pile on the bed. He looked up when he heard your footsteps on the stairs so you slowed to a pause in the doorway, offered a smile. 

“Hi, hey, how’d it go?” His eyes were eager, concern etched in his brow. “Did he show up?”

You knew it pained him to not be there. You knew, for whatever reason, that he felt protective and that watching you back out of the quiet driveway in your prius that morning was maybe one of the hardest things he’d done in weeks. 

“He did,” you nodded, leaned against the doorframe. “He showed up and it was--it was fine, I guess.”

“Fine? Was he nice? Did he ask about Jane?”

“He was fine,” you said it again, afraid that recounting the specific details would bring too many tears. You had cried the whole way home, not in sadness or in pain--just in contemplation. What did it mean? How had everything in your life shifted so much in nine quick months? “He was nice, I guess. He asked about a lot and I told him things are fine.”

He nodded, hesitance in his eyes when he watched you for a second. “Okay.”

He wasn’t pushing like he used to. He tiptoed around big topics and he backed off with ease when you seemed to flinch under his gaze. You hadn’t meant to instill fear in him, but somehow, saying you needed space made him think you were more fragile than ever. 

Maybe you were--maybe he was picking up on something you weren’t. 

“M’glad it went well,” he pursed his lips, his mouth was a flat line when he turned back to the clothed he’d strewn about the room. 

So you left him alone, headed down the hall to the room that had become yours. Hidden towards the back of the house, enough space that lined the long hallways and settled like dust on the hardwood floor. An oriental rug and a potted plant in the corner that you dumped half drank water bottles into at the end of the day made you feel like a stranger in the house that might never feel like home. 

You pulled clothes out from your closet and tried to determine which pants would still fit before you’d head to meet Lexi for lunch. I have an easy day, she’d told you. Come to set and I’ll sneak off for a while. 

But the tears came again when the pants were too snug. Your shoes hurt and your shirt felt like it clung to every square inch of your skin, a suffocating reminder of all the changes to come. A knock had you turning around quickly, half dressed to find Harry with his head poking through the crack in the door, eyebrows arched. 

“Sorry--I--I just wanted to make sure you remembered I’ll be gone before you wake up tomorrow.”

You tugged the shirt over your body fully, embarrassed to be caught in a whirlwind of emotion. You wiped at your eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I do--I remember.”

“Are you alright?”

You nodded, felt your nostrils flare in the lie and looked over at him. He raised his eyebrows again, challenging your words with a single look. 

“I’m huge,” you said it quietly, fearful that enough volume would make it hurt more. “I’m so uncomfortable in everything I wear and my body feels so fucking weird all the time.”

He was frozen, blinking and unsure. He nudged the door open and it bounced against the wall when he took a small step forward. “You’re not huge,” he said, a shake of his head made strands of his hair fall loose over his forehead. “You’re nine months pregnant.”

“What if my body never goes back to how it was, though?”

He shrugged his shoulders, the look on his face let you know that the thought hadn’t really crossed his mind before. “Probably won’t.”

“That’s not helpful,” you sat on the bed and let out another silent sob. He came a bit closer, a quiet laugh from his lips when he bent down on a knee in front of you. 

“I don’t mean it like that,” he clarified. “I just mean that your body is changing right now because you’re growing our daughter--not because you did something wrong. And they change,” another shrug. “Bodies change all the time.”

You nodded, knowing he was right but still struggling to believe it. 

“I think you’re beautiful,” he spoke more quietly now, almost a whisper in the guest bedroom that felt remarkably un-homey. “I think you’ll always be beautiful, even as your body changes through life.”

You let out a laugh, wiped more tears but looked down at him. “Did you read some guide on what to say to pregnant women?”

The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk. “S’called The Expectant Father,” he blushed a bit, dropped your gaze and cleared his throat. “Quite good, actually.”

Maybe he caught the way you looked at him, thought it freaked you out or made you upset. He stood and backed away, over towards the door to keep the formulaic amount of space between you. 

“I know we’re not together,” he said. “But I want to be supportive--I know you’re the one doing the heavy lifting, so the least I can do is read a book or two.”

You nodded, and the sinking feeling in your stomach at his words wasn’t lost on you. He dipped out the door to return to packing and you flopped back on the bed, certain that nothing in your closet fit and that the hormones had finally gotten the best of you.

And he was right, he slipped out the door in the morning quietly, but you still heard it latch into place and you heard the car that hummed outside to bring him to the airport. You kept your eyes closed and wondered how it was possible that you already missed him, alone in clean sheets. 

Sometimes you’d dream about it all, a blurry scene of Dr. Weston’s office, the pool outback and your old room at Lexi’s. You’d wake up and be sure it wasn’t real, like the last eight months had been a figment of your imagination, but your tummy made it hard to roll over and stare at the ceiling in uncertainty.

It wasn’t a bad dream, just a surprising one. One that had so much emotion bubbling your chest about Jane and about Harry and about everything else in between that you’d wake up in a cold sweat and sneak downstairs to put your sheets in the wash before he woke up. 

But lonely nights turned into lonely days while he was gone, you’d climb the stairs and settle into bed: his, but you’d never tell him. You’d use his pillow and plug your phone into the charger he’d left behind, soaking up the pieces of him without witness. 

And on the last night, the curiosity had grown. It got the best of you eventually, when you were home alone after work for three days straight, going through work emails at the kitchen counter, take out containers beside you and stacks of CDs still in eyesight. 

Were you allowed to listen to it before it came out? He hadn’t said not to. He didn’t offer it or say you should. But he left you alone in his house with hundreds of CDs, all of them now signed and boxed up for Jeffrey to pick up the next morning. 

You pushed away from the counter and padded over to the table, picking one up from a box before turning it over in your hands. You’d seen the photo, he’d shown you one afternoon. The tracklist on the back had been scribbled on a piece of paper on his desk for months. You’d seen it in the summer when you brought him dinner late one night while he was working.

But it was rearranged, now. A different order, two tracks at the top of the printed list had previously been near the bottom. The song that had originally been last was now the penultimate track. One was new, something you hadn’t read before. The final track.

Is that what he’d meant when he said it looked different than it had back in the spring? Was the added song at the end of the record the one he’d mentioned months earlier, here in the kitchen with a smile?

S’just one song, I can play it for you.

You pulled the case open, tugged the pamphlet from the front cover and flipped towards the back. Photos in the studio, of him, song titles, then, finally, you found what you were looking for.

Sure, pieces felt familiar, maybe certain words or images seemed to align. But you didn’t know. You weren’t him. Towards the bottom, at the end, etched in ink on paper that’d be distributed to thousands of people was the lyrical confirmation. We’ll be alright. 

You looked over your shoulder, desperate to hear the way he sang it, desperate to know if this was the one song he’d told you about. The one about you.

So you rushed over to the computer he had in his office, thankful that it had a slit in the side for the CD in your hands. You popped it in and waited for a new screen to pop up. Skip, skip, skip. You’d listen to the rest, eventually, one day. But for now, you needed to know if your gut was right.

When the name of the song came up on the screen in tiny letters, a guitar track started, an instrumental opening before he went on to air his feelings. Suddenly, the phrase he’d been saying all this time settled into place, right between his fears and his sorrows, and apparently, his assuredness.

Put a price on emotion, I'm looking for something to buy.

**

Glenne was seated on the floor of Harry’s office, barefoot on top of the carpet in flared jeans. Lexi sat in the desk chair that he spent a lot of late nights in with her eyes closed.

You had your arms folded over your chest as the same song played over the speakers. You’d listened to the others, alone in the office with the heating pad on your back. 

But now, the next morning, you watched as Lexi’s eyebrows arched. You’d played a few others, the ones that were certainly not about you. The ones about Camille and the ones that had you curious. 

You felt guilty, like you were sitting here with your two best friends listening to someone’s diary, their inner thoughts or internal monologue that wasn't meant for your ears. But somehow, it was meant for everyone else’s--all of the people who’d listen in their bedrooms and in their cars to pieces of a life that you now were a part of. When the music stopped, Glenne looked up at you. 

“Huh.”

“Huh?” Lexi looked down at her. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Well, I don’t know--I’ve heard some pieces of things throughout the process, but, I don’t know,” she trailed off, a tinge of pink on her cheeks.

“Do you think that’s the one about me?”

She let out a sigh, looked around the room. “Do you want to know the answer or do you want me to not tell you?”

“You know?” Lexi said, her voice even more high pitched than before. 

Glenne kept her eyes on you and didn’t respond to Lexi’s question. “Yeah,” you nodded. “I want to know.”

“Don’t tell him I told you,” she said. 

“Okay!”

Quiet. Lexi leaned forward and made a face at Glenne. “Fucking spit it out!”

“It is!” Glenne leaned away from Lexi and scrunched her nose, bringing her gaze back to you. “He wrote it like--I don’t know, over the summer maybe? I found out that he wrote something about you the same time I found out you were moving in here.”

The air in the room didn’t change. A December breeze rustled the tree outside the window, but somehow, knowing that Harry had written a song about you didn’t send a shiver up your spine and it didn’t send you into cardiac arrest. 

Instead, you nodded slowly, processing the words in the final track. 

“How’s it feel to be his muse?” Lexi teased, a smirk on her face when she swiveled around to face you. 

“I’m not his muse,” you shook your head. “Camille is.”

They were quiet at that, unsure how to reply to your indisputable claim. After a second, Glenne sighed, “it was a while ago.”

Lexi nodded in agreement. 

“He loved her, though,” you let out a small laugh, a defeated one. If you hadn’t known before how important she was to him, you did now. Hearing the songs and piecing together tiny glimpses of their relationship left you feeling like an imposter. How could you sleep in this house? Kiss him or hug him as if his heart wasn’t still tied to hers?

Glenne decided to challenge you. “He’s in a different place now.”

You bit your lip, looked outside the window and hoped that the rain would pass before your baby shower tomorrow and the album release. “I know, it’s fine. I mean, him and I shouldn’t be together, so.”

“Are you sure about that?”

The question from Glenne made you snap back into the room. “Am I sure about that?” You repeated the question to make sure you’d heard her correctly. When she nodded, you laughed sarcastically. “I mean, I don’t know, Glenne--you’re one of the people who’ve been warning me about how terrible this whole thing could be.”

She shrunk at that, a guilty look on her face. “Maybe I was wrong.”

It wasn’t what you wanted to hear. Not right now, not with four weeks left until Jane and until everything in your life shape shifted into something unrecognizable. Not after not after you watched scenes of his past romance play out before your own eyes and ears. And certainly you finally put enough space between you to assure that he couldn’t hurt you.

But somehow, when Glenne said that, you realized that sometimes no amount of space could keep you safe. Maybe he’d be able to hurt you no matter how much space you forced in the middle. Maybe that’s what love is. 

So when he came home that night and told you about the turbulence on his flight, you didn’t tell him you’d listened. You didn’t tell him you had heard the lyrics and you didn’t tell him that now a lot more things made sense. 

You didn’t say it because Jeff was there, Glenne and Lexi were too. A few friends from his band lingered in the living room even though it was late. An hour until it hit streaming services, then thirty minutes. 

The moment that had hovered overhead, in the future, approaching with certainty this entire time. Aside from Jane, Harry’s album was the only other constant, the only other thing that everything and everyone had been moving towards and expecting.

He toasted at midnight, much more tame than you expected. Jeff pulled it up on his phone and played a few songs over the speakers. Eventually they filed out, promises of see you tomorrow for the show floated up towards the stars when he waved them goodbye from the front door. 

Another night of climbing stairs, and when you slipped into slumber by yourself, you wondered if he could smell you on his pillowcase. 

**

You woke up on the 13th of December with a buzzing in your chest, voices already floated up the stairs, he’d warned you that it’d be a busy day.

His mom was there, Jeff took a phone call by the front door but offered an excited wave when he saw you--this time you put a bra on first.

“Morning,” you said, pulling Harry’s attention in your direction. He sat at the island, his mom by his side when he spooned cereal into his mouth. 

“Morning,” he said. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good--nice to see you,” you came over and offered his mom a hug, she wrapped her arms around you but was careful to give your belly space. 

“How do you feel? Ready for the shower today?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you admitted. 

Glenne and Lexi swore today would be the perfect day for it. Everyone was already in the same place for the release, the show at The Forum is the perfect nightcap, Lexi said. Your mom would drive down and be there for the whole day, Anne and Gemma were already in town and same with Harry’s gran and a few family friends. 

So before you knew it, Lexi showed up and rushed you towards the bathroom upstairs. Harry was pulled off in a thousand different directions, but he stood in the doorway and watched as Lexi brushed some eye shadow underneath your brow.

 “I hope you have fun today,” he said, “but--you’ve got the address for The Forum, right? Do you need me to remind you how to get your pass once you get there?”

“Don’t worry about me,” you reassured. “I’ve got Glenne Christiaansen to keep me on schedule and get me from place to place.”

“Every once in a while we get so lucky and that stick up her ass comes in handy,” Lexi laughed. 

“Fair,” Harry smirked, letting his eyes wash over you once more. “Well--I’ll talk to you, yeah? Before tonight?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Maybe you can stop by the shower if you have time just to say hi?”

“I told Jeffrey I’d like to, but--we’ll see how everything goes. I’ve got to go over to his place now.”

“Okay.”

Lexi made a face at you in the mirror, her silent observation that things between you and Harry were awkward and uncertain. 

“Lexi,” he looked up at her. “Don’t let Y/N rip all of her hair out today.”

“Okay,” she laughed. “I’m on it.”

He disappeared after he flashed another smile, footsteps down the stairs when she smiled at your reflection. 

**

Glenne had jumped at the opportunity to host your shower. She was the only person in your life that you trusted to find napkins, cupcakes, food platters, tablecloths, and plenty of baby themed decorations in the exact same shade of pink. She spent weeks texting you pictures of things she ordered off the internet and found in party boutiques throughout Los Angeles. 

So now, you sat in Lexi’s Tesla in a parking lot ten minutes away. You need to be fashionably late, she’d said. Let everyone show up first and have a mimosa. 

By the time you walked into Glenne’s house, which was filled with familiar faces, you felt only a little less terrified about the attention that would try to suffocate you. Maybe it was difficult to admit that this was your life now: derailed and sidetracked and messier than you could have imagined. 

Anne wrapped her arms around you and introduced you to his cousins, an aunt and an uncle who’d flown out a few days prior. Smiles and congratulations when your mom raised a glass of champagne in your honor, but you had to hide in the bathroom to fight back tears when she said she’d never been more proud of you. 

It almost felt like you’d woken up here, coming out of a fog for the last eight months, foolishly believing that things would never come to fruition or that you’d made it through this unscathed. And on top of it, the slow realization that nothing would make it better except for him had you blotting tears off of your cheeks when someone knocked on the door. 

“One second,” you said it quickly, grabbed another tissue and blinked a few times to dispose of the evidence.

“It’s me,” Glenne was quiet, she nudged the door open and smiled, shutting it behind her when she frowned at you. “What’s up? You’ve been hiding in here for a while.”

You tried to laugh it off, guilt in your veins for hiding in the host’s bathroom. “Nothing, I’m alright. Just a lot of emotion lately.”

“Makes sense,” she shrugged. “More hormones than ever, probably. And you know, love will do that to you.”

You didn’t reply to that, unsure of what she wanted you to say or admit. 

“He just got here with Jeff, they had a little bit of time before he needs to get to The Forum I guess.”

“He’s here?” It immediately made your insides twist, excited and nauseous simultaneously. But you didn’t expect it to bring more tears. When it did, Glenne handed you another tissue but then slipped out of the bathroom, “stay here,” she said. 

You were there by yourself for a second, looked down at the yellow dress that splayed out over your tummy. You reached down and let a hand rub over it, maybe things would be easier when she was here, the opposite of what you’d convinced yourself in some ways. 

“Hey,” Harry’s voice was somewhat concerned, his eyes narrowed when he stepped inside. He shut the door behind him, just like Glenne. “What’s wrong? Glenne said you’re crumbling,” he let out a small laugh but smiled when you rolled your eyes.

“I’m not crumbling. I’m fine.”

“You look a little stressed,” he challenged.

“I don’t know, I’m alright,” you told him. “There are a lot of people out there. My family is annoying and it’s just a big day.”

“It is a big day,” he said. “Your cousin Carrie told me she’s single within the first three minutes I talked to her.”

“Great,” you said sarcastically. “I shouldn’t have even had one of these.”

“A shower?”

You nodded.

“Every mom needs a shower.”

You shrugged, paralyzed by all of the things that threatened to spill out of your mouth if you opened it. You’d asked for space and gotten it, but sleeping in different beds didn’t make anything easier. You heard the song and cried in the kitchen that night, wondering how he’d gone from a stranger to someone you felt comforted by.

“We might want to go back out there, though--Lexi already probably thinks we’re having sex in here.”

You laughed at that, looked up at him and smiled a bit. “Thanks for not making me feel stupid.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Cause sometimes I can be.”

He bit his lip, but he didn’t ask what you meant. Maybe he knew it was a small confession that your actions were questionable at best, but he patted you on the shoulder and then led you back to the party.

The anxiety got worse when you followed Jeff into a green room in Inglewood, the laminated piece of plastic around your neck had your name in big letters on it, but it didn’t make you feel any less out of place. Harry draped an arm around your shoulders when he introduced you to other friends, recoiled quickly as if he’d forgotten about the things you’d said over the last month.

There were snacks and drinks and an entire room that seemed to be dedicated to the people who’d come to support him. Your mom laughed when his dad told a story about the time Harry begged for guitar lessons, you smiled when his sister took a selfie sandwiched between you and Glenne. 

Having everyone together felt like something that should bring you peace, but instead, it highlighted the ways that your relationship with Harry was far from anything either of you had experienced before. Brought together by one night, but now your lives were weeds on a sidewalk that tangled together.

Eventually you were ushered out to a roped off area with the rest of the gang after the lights had dimmed and the screams had picked up, silently wishing that people would be too focused on him to notice the roundness of your body. 

It felt like a formal appearance, more confirmation that this was real and you were real and the photo he’d shared on instagram a few months back wasn���t fake or photoshopped or anything of the sort. So when you noticed glances and heard your name being called by a section of people behind you, Jeff’s advice was to smile and wave. 

You watched his mom wipe tears from her face after the first song and you settled into the fact that maybe this would be your life. Maybe smiling and waving was something you could get used to. 

Harry was in his element, it was easy to tell. It only took a few songs before you were sure that he’d be doing this for a long time, and maybe you wouldn’t mind tagging along with a toddler who’d bop and sway to the music. 

You let him wrap his arms around you at the end of the night, happy to shower him with praise and congratulations, proud of the show he’d put on. It took a while before he turned to you in the green room again, “ready to head home?”

A pang of guilt in your chest: would he be heading to another party if it weren’t for you, for the squash-sized human inside of you? He must have seen the look cross your face, heard the hesitation in your voice when you asked, “are you sure?”

“Positive,” he nodded. “We can head out.”

You wondered what people though, the two of you saying goodbye at the same time, like a couple but not. Everything about your relationship seemed to fall under that category: like a couple, but not.

Not when it made it too messy, not when he loved someone before you. Not when the anxiety was woven through your ribcage as a reminder that this would have never happened without a faulty condom and few drinks. 

You found your purse and hugged them all goodbye, thankful for the peace and quiet of the backseat of a black SUV heading for the hills.

He leaned against the seat, slumped but with a smile on his face. “You really liked the show?”

“It was fantastic,” you admitted with a smirk. “Way better than I expected.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah--didn’t know what to expect really. First time seeing you do anything other than play the piano in the living room.”

“I know,” he nodded, his eyes wide in the dark of the car. “Was nervous during the first few songs.”

“Why?” You asked, surprised by his confession. “You looked like you were having the time of your life.”

“I was nervous because I knew you were there! Didn’t know if you’d think I was a freak for dancing around the way I do.”

You giggled, “I mean, I didn’t say you weren’t a freak.”

“True,” he laughed, resting his head on the back of the seat again. His eyes closed for a second.

“Ooh,” you shifted suddenly in the seat. “I think she’s moving,” you reached for his hand, pulled it close to you and held it over your stomach, desperate at this point for him to feel what everyone else already had. 

She gave a good kick, one that made his eyes go wide. “That’s her? That’s what she’s been doing?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “At all hours of the night, too.”

“Do it again,” he said, his words directed down at your belly. When she did, he looked up at him, lips curled into a small smile. 

“It’s kind of terrifying,” you said with a nod. “A few more weeks and she’ll be doing that out here.”

He pulled his hand away from you, let out a sigh and then looked over at you again. “We’ll be alright, love, I promise.” He echoed the last words from the last song when you nodded, ears still ringing from the music of the night. 

**

You were happy to escape to Santa Paula for Christmas, but happier to come home a few days later and stop by Glenne and Jeff’s. They had Tupperware containers from his mom, Christmas dinner on repeat for a few nights when you decided to crash in a guest room on their second floor. 

Harry’s house was too quiet, too empty for such a long time by yourself. 

He’d call every few days, text to tell you what he was up to and report on the press he did before the holiday. Another show in London, some radio gigs and interviews seemed to keep Jeff busy on calls in the other room. 

Lexi thought it was crazy that you hadn’t exchanged Christmas gifts with him, her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “You didn’t let him shower you in presents? You’ve done some crazy shit this year but, I dunno, this has gotta take the cake.”

Glenne reached over to the coffee table in Harry’s living room and smiled. “I mean, she’s not paying rent in this house that they both live in.”

“He owns it!” Lexi’s laugh echoed off the high ceilings, she held up her wine glass when Glenne offered a refill. “He’s not making mortgage payments or some shit for this place.” 

She couldn’t argue with that. She leaned back on the couch after she set the bottle down and raised her glass in the air. “Well--it’s only nine thirty, but this is the best New Year’s Eve I’d had in a while.”

“Thanks for hanging out with me,” you smiled, lifting your feet to the coffee table. You lifted your arms above your head to stretch--the tension in your back had been building all day. 

They’d promised you for weeks it’d be a quiet night. Wine, a movie, take out--the type of girls night you had before everything changes. They both agreed that it felt like the most appealing way to ring in 2020. You agreed, sans wine. 

“Ow, shit,” you leaned forward suddenly, a sharp pain in your back pulled your feet back to the hardwood floor. 

“What?” Glenne’s smiled disappeared from her face. 

“Nothing--just, I don’t know, back ache.”

“Is it happening?” Lexi’s voice was deep, nervous and excited all at once. She wiggled her eyebrows when you rolled your eyes.

“What? No. No--I’m just,” you adjusted on the couch. “I’m sore today. My back’s been hurting. It’s fine now, I’m fine.”

They both watched you for a second, but it happened again when Glenne sipped her wine.

“Ow, fuck,” you said, rubbing the spot near your hip. “I’ll just walk it out, that normally helps.”

So you stood from the couch and headed over the kitchen counter. They both stood but stayed where they were, eyes trailing you from behind the couch.

“Are you having contractions?” Glenne’s arms crossed over her chest, her tone was suspicious.

“I don’t think so, it just feels like a back ache. And she’s not due for another week and a half.”

“Babies come early,” Lexi said it like you were stupid, her mouth pressed into a thin line. 

You sat on a stool and let out a breath. “I’m aware.”

But the problem wasn’t that Jane might be early, the problem was that Harry was a twelve hour flight away. As if she could read your mind, Glenne tilted her head to the side.

“Should I call Harry?”

“No,” you shut her up quickly, a raised hand in her direction to ask for quiet. 

You rolled your neck, leaned forward towards the granite to try to release some of the pressure from your lower back muscles. It happened again, you tensed on the stool but didn’t say anything, Glenne came over and put a hand on your shoulder. 

She was more serious now: “what is going on?”

“I don’t know, but I’m fine. There’s no pattern either--Doctor Weston said they’re supposed to be a few minutes apart if they’re contractions.”

“What is gonna help you with the pain?”

“I don’t know, Glenne, okay?”

“Well fixing your posture might help,” She said this as if it was obvious, one hand on your lower back to push forward and one on your shoulder to pull back.

“Dude,” Lexi groaned, coming over from the sofa. “We get it, you did ballet. You’re not a doctor.”

“I’m just trying to help!” She defended. “Unlike you, sitting here doing nothing.”

“Oh do not even start with me,” Lexi reached forward and flicked Glenne right in the nipple when she got closer to you both. 

“Ouch, Jesus!” Glenne swatted Lexi’s hand away, reached behind your back to try and flick her in retaliation.

“Can you both not right now?! I’m a little too busy to break up your stupid fight!”

Glenne made a face at Lexi and then turned back to you, an apologetic smile. “Do you need a heating pad--advil? Maybe we can just call the doctor and see what she says to do.”

“I’m probably fine. Maybe the heating pad will help.”

“Uh, booboo,” Lexi looked down at the stool, her eyes wide. “I love you, but either you’re peeing or your water broke.”

You looked down, horror when you saw that the stool was dripping and your sweatpants were now a darker gray. “Oh my god--my fucking water broke, is that what that is?!”

“Oh my god! What do we do?” Glenne freaked out, her hands waved in the air and she looked between you and Lexi. “Do we call an ambulance?”

“No!” You shouted, “we drive!”

“Okay, okay, the keys, car keys, we need those,” Glenne looked around the kitchen and talked to herself when her hands fluttered in the air.

“Do you have a hospital bag?” Lexi was much calmer, her eyes demanded an answer.

“Upstairs--the farthest guest room--my room,” you corrected, the slip went unnoticed by both of them when Lexi bounded up the stairs. Glenne grabbed her purse on the counter, then headed to grab your phone from it’s charger in the living room. 

“I’m calling Harry,” she said, her voice still frantic and pressured.

“Okay, yeah, that’d be good,” you thought aloud. You got off the stool and found a dish towel, wiped up the fluid that had leaked out of you. “I need a change of pants!” You yelled up to Lexi. 

“Got it,” she yelled back, her voice echoing from upstairs. 

“He’s not answering,” Glenne said, her voice suddenly raising a whole octave after the beep. “Hey, Harry--It’s Glenne, Y/N’s water broke, so, uh, you need to get your ass back to the United States as fast as fucking possible. Please call me, please listen to this. Okay--I’ll try Jeff. Bye.”

“Fucking Christ,” she looked up at you. “Get in my car!”

“Don’t yell at me!” You snapped back, a hand on your back, still trying to ease the pain. 

“Here,” Lexi tossed a pair of sweatpants at you, the duffle bag you’d packed with Harry a week earlier was slung over her shoulder. You caught them and stared at her, wide eyes, unsure of what to do. “Change! Now!” She ordered.

So you stripped right there in front of them, left the previous pair on the floor in the middle of the room. You apologized to Glenne for getting amniotic fluid on the backseat of her Tesla when you pulled out of the driveway. She told you to shut up and blew three red lights on the way there.

The more you cried in pain, the faster she drove.

It was a rush through the waiting room, plunked down in a wheelchair like you saw in the movies when Glenne finally got a hold of him. He’s on his way, she promised, he’ll get here. Lexi brushed your hair out of your face, tears in your eyes when you bent over the bed, give me anything that will make it not hurt so much. 

The late night moon gave the otherwise sterile room a soft glow, you paced the floor as if the sound of your feet would distract from his absence--his stupid smirk and his annoying jokes would have made it feel less terrifying. Three centimeters, then four. 

Lexi called your mom and she promised she’d come in the morning, the New Year’s Eve celebrations were muted on the TV, Lexi pulled a pair of 2020 glasses from her purse and shoved them on her face at midnight. 

You slept a bit after a nurse slid an IV into your arm, the beeping of your heart a steady reminder of the seconds ticking by. Jeff confirmed he was on a plane an hour into the New Year, he paced outside the door and looked guilty whenever he popped his head inside. Six centimeters, but the early morning sun seeped through the windows before he landed.

Your mom came with donuts for everyone, the smell made you sick. Ice chips only, too nauseous for more than a few. Relief came around seven centimeters, a little while longer, but you needed an epidural by eight when your whole body felt like it was on fire. You wished someone had told you that it would only numb the physical pain, did they make something to calm nerves like these? The nurses smiled and promised you’d be okay, as if they knew that this wasn’t how this moment was supposed to be. 

Anyone else would have a husband, a wife, someone to tell them it’d be alright and that they weren’t completely alone, even if it felt that way. Lexi did her best, a hand on your back when you cried and reassuring words. He’ll be here. He’s on his way--he’ll be here, you’re okay. 

The door pushed open at nine centimeters, his eyes were wide and apologies fell out of his mouth before he pressed a kiss to your forehead--he took the soonest flight out, Jeff was waiting at the airport. Lexi stepped back, her hand in yours was replaced, and somehow, he didn’t need any direction. 

When the squeezing was only thirty seconds apart he leaned closer to you and grabbed your hand. You’re okay, you can do this, I’m right here. Doctor Weston came in and smiled, the nurse asked who you wanted in the room, but her words were almost lost in the sound of another contraction. 

Just him, you said, muffled through pain and emotion, but you swore your mom smiled before she kissed your cheek and left. 

So you stayed like that, Harry’s cheek nearly pressed against yours as his fingers wrapped around your thigh. Doctor Weston counted down from ten, breaths in between. A cool towel on your forehead half way through. Tears on your face the whole time, sad and happy and nervous and afraid. 

She cried and cried when her lungs filled with air, but she wasn’t the only one. Your face was wet when she hit your chest, as if the emotions that had been tied up inside you were suddenly released, a thousand balloons towards the sky or a wave crashing on the beach. 

She’s perfect, you said, she looks like you. 

He tried to blink away the tears, buried his head in your shoulder. She looks like both of us, he said, his voice a tiny whisper in the room, as if speaking too loud might break her. Thank you. 

He climbed into the bed beside you when they returned her, wrapped in a blanket as soft as her skin. His arms around you and yours around her. He kissed your shoulder, said her name over and over, melodic and sweet. 

Something about his presence by your side felt comforting, a different type of safe than you’d ever felt. He brushed hair out of your face and smiled down at you, a kiss to your lips when the nurse finally took her away. 

Sleep, she said, you’ll need it.

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[thewriterowl]

some headcanon about Luke childhood and adolescence on Tatooine?

Oh sure thing! Now, I’d definitely use a lot of what is talked about already.

Luke was sort of exiled from most people, especially any of those who are close to his age. 

Now, Tatooine is a hella lonely planet. I recently reblogged an amazing chart that has so many planets, their systems/rims, stats, etc. and it provides so much info. Like how it is estimated only around 200,000 people live on all of Tatooine. The clumps of population are sort of spread out and hopping from one town to the next is not just something you can just get up and do. So Luke has almost no opportunity to even find friends.

I pictures that Biggs actually didn’t like Luke at first when they were kids. That he followed the group and that his family maybe urged for him to stay away from that boy, something just wasn’t quite right to him. The Lars were a rather respectable sort but they were still...odd. His father Cliegg was a pretty good man who saved and married Shmi Skywalker after his wife died, and Shmi was a good soul too...but there were so many rumors about her and her son who she claimed did not have a father. The son that won a race, threw a lot into chaos, and disappeared with cloaked figures. Lars claims this boy is the son of the missing child of Shmi, who had died when all that dramatics happened in the Core Worlds.

It was just...odd. And Luke was odd. Yes, there have been kids born with blond-ish hair and blue eyes before...but the colors were always darker. Their eyes would be such dark blue that they probably could look brown in some light and usually when they reach the teenage years the hair was already starting to darken. It was just a sort of normal thing on the planet. Pretty much everyone grew up too. Even the most measly of slaves had to have girth and strength on them to be of any use on this planet.

Luke just was always slightly off. His hair remained this pretty gold, his eyes were such a strange hue of blue, his face never took on a tough or quite masculine appearance, and he was just small. He was lanky and awkward and just never jumped in height like most kids. He was pathetically weak looking which is enough for most to keep their distances because if you’re around someone weak you could get drug down too.

Then there was those weird things that happen around him. Creatures that normally stayed hidden in the depths of the Tatooine desert and never inched close to towns would be found skulking and whimpering around the Lars’ property, always clawing at the wall that surrounded Luke’s room. The kid always knew where to search for a new well. He could sense when a seller is not being quite honest. He picked up blaster shooting quicker than any other child and could always find his target.  He knew how to use a speeder masterfully when he was ten. Beru’s plants sprouted with Luke nearby and gave them vegetables even during the drier months. He could predict things. And, as a child, when he had his rare tantrums things seemed to move. Then there was the fact that mysterious old Ben could be seen, only just, in the background, watching over the kid.

So, yeah, Luke was not seen as a welcomed sort.

But he was so stubborn and so eager for attention and to make friends that Biggs had a hard time fighting him off. The kid just managed to always find him so he just sorta gave up. He wasn’t about to bash a kid built like a twig’s nose in. That wasn’t exactly honorable. And well...Luke is actually pretty fun. He was always excited to go on adventures. He said yes to most anything. He was up for any dare. No matter what happened, he would always smile about it, just happy to be included. Biggs found he had far more fun with this kid than most anyone else so he just took him under his wing. Biggs was probably one of the more popular guys growing up so a lot of people left Luke alone after that, just primarily ignoring him or a cruel name tossed his way and or there.

Luke got kidnapped at least once in “cannon” but I believe that the Hutts would’ve tried to get him for the slave market. Maybe he wouldn’t sell for too much on Tatooine but he was clearly growing up into something pretty and different and that could be a lot of credits for them. Obi-Wan put a stop to it the moment he realized Luke had their attention and no one looked for Luke after that.

He tried to run away once, because he just felt so drained and empty on Tatooine, but Owen found him and dragged him back and scolded him so bad that Luke’s early stages of guilt-complex really ignited. He didn’t mention leaving for a little while after that. But he clearly was desperate to leave.

Luke had a lot of weird dreams. Sometimes even when he was awake. He could see and hear things that were there but...not. Sometimes it was foggy and blurry but he could make out a tall man who blinked from human to a black mass, breathing like a monster. Sometimes it was a man with white robes and long hair and a beard who would smile at him and give him a pat on his head, his expression calm and knowing but always gentle and comfortable. Sometimes the man would blur and Luke could see a hole in his stomach. Sometimes he would see a tall woman who glowed and had glowing green hair who would hold him close, calling him the Light’s child. Other times there was this odd pull to...someone...his mirror. Not his reflection but...yet she, as he knew it was a she, was. This other part of him. And sometimes he swore she felt him right back. He could sometimes hear a little thrum, it sounded like someone like him, but maybe younger...or maybe older, asking for the dark to please leave. He could hear another boy, someone Luke was connected to in some way, full of so much anger and kindness as he donned himself in armor. And sometimes he saw a pale monster, cackling in the shadows, with glowing yellowed eyes and who felt like decay.

Most times, he just never felt quite alone. Like there was something, or multiple somethings, always there. This pull, this connection, to everything. When he focused on it too much it made him very tired so he didn’t do it too often.

He didn’t talk about these things to his family either. 

Luke asked about his parents a lot but his aunt and uncle always refused to tell him much. They claimed to only have a little information on his father and knew nothing of his mother. He never gave up, trying to get as many stories from them as possible but it was always the same four to five stories each time.

Luke felt, or at least believed he felt, that his parents did love him and didn’t abandon him. They just died, which was sad but quite normal on Tatooine. He still wished he could see their faces and hear their voices. He usually just called them Mother and Father in his head, as a slight way to detach himself from the pain, cause Luke would be the sort who would call them mommy and daddy when he was young and then mom and dad when he was older. Mother and Father was just this...title he had for two strangers he wished he knew.

Luke still loved them very much and liked to pretend they would show up on the doorstep one day and pull him into a hug, holding him tight, and promising to never leave him again. That they would all stay together.

Luke thrived off of fairy-tale like stories and could never get enough speed in his life. Politics were never something he understood. He had plans on joining the Imperial Academy the moment he was able to become a pilot and travel across the galaxy. He could probably earn credits and get his own place and maybe take care of his aunt and uncle. He often wondered if he could be a hero.

He caused mischief but mostly on accident. He did not need much to keep him occupied and Owen realized he was very good with building, taking care of, and communicating with droids than most.

When he was seventeen to eighteen, folks who were a lot older or a very unsavory would approach Owen to try and get a deal to marry Luke.  He was still small and lanky, but people were beginning to notice he was prettier than some girls. Even some from the Hutt’s circle came in with offers to marry Luke into their protection--he could even live at the palace. Owen always rejected every proposal and kept Luke even closer to home after that, rarely letting him leave unless he was with Biggs. After Biggs left, it was always a battle to let Luke leave the farm. It made Luke smothered and a bit exhausted and whiny. He was nearing twenty and he was still treated like this delicate child.

Luke did have a massive crush on Biggs but never acted on it. Other than that he was far more interested in other things. 

He was good in picking up most languages by ear, he seemed to know Binary from the start, but he could never do well with speaking. it always sounded awkward to him. Beru taught him to read and write and she found if Luke only had a few texts, after a few lessons he would start to pick things up. Before he leaves, he is fluent in understanding Basic, Binary, Huttese, Jawaese, and Tusken sign. He can’t speak a lick of anything outside of Basic. 

Luke was always very kind and apologetic to whoever he met. He always felt he was something wrong and broken and would try to not bother anyone if he could. If something happened he was quick to blame himself (picked up from a lot of his interaction with the people of Tatooine and, unintentionally, from his aunt and uncle who did appear fearful of him at times). He puts other people first and has a hard time seeing other having faults but rather he is so broken that he makes them have faults.

He loves sweets but for savory, his was a big fan of things like rice and bread (I swear, in a Modern AU Luke would almost live off of Japanese rice and would be someone who could actually cook it (cause i can’t and it breaks my heart) and could just eat it as is or he just has it as the foundation for every meal) with some vegetables. He did not grow up with seasoning so he has no idea how to really use it...but would grow to enjoy it after some time.

Luke loves anything dog-like. He probably won over some Tusken’s because their dogs adored Luke.

Luke is amazing at engineering...but ask him what 6+6 is and he’ll probably go blank. Don’t make the poor boy think. He runs on instinct and can easily short-circuit his brain if he tries to think about what he is doing (cause often he shouldn’t really know it as he wasn’t taught it, he just somehow knows what to do)

Just cause of how Tatooine is...it is possible Luke has rarely been hugged and potentially rarely told he was loved.

[makeste]

Are there any headcanons that you would like to share? About anything you want.

anon in the absence of specific guidelines I have managed to make this post pretty much entirely about Bakugou. I apologize if you really wanted to know all of my headcanons about Kouda or something lol. but all joking aside he really is the character I think about the most and so probably like 80% of my headcanons are about him, including close to 100% of the headcanons I actually have a solid enough grip on to put into words. anyway here goes.

he does not know how to tie a tie. he was a rowdy little free range knee-scraping grass-staining run-don’t-walk child whose parents only ever managed to wrestle him into formal attire a handful of times for special occasions when he was younger, and then he went to a middle school that used gakuran-style uniforms so he never learned then, either. his dad offered to teach him when U.A. rolled around, but he was all, “fuck off dad, I know how to tie a stupid tie,” because by that time he had grown into a cocky little brat confident in his own skill and naive as to the reality checks of the world, and he genuinely believed with the conviction that only a fifteen-year-old can muster that when the time came he would just magically know how to do it. on the first day of school he got as far as draping the loose tie over his neck and holding one end in each hand before staring at the mirror and abruptly realizing the hole he’d dug himself into. and so rather than admit defeat, he just straight up decided not to wear it. which became a permanent life choice once he got to school and saw how badly Deku’s tie was tied and realized there was no way he could ever risk that kind of humiliation.

in a similar vein, I know there’s a popular fanon that because of his parents’ influence Katsuki has a good sense of fashion, but my own personal headcanon is that this could not be further from the truth lol. it’s not that he has a terrible sense of style, mind you; it’s just that he doesn’t care about it at all. he’s a nerdy jock who spends all his free time studying and lifting weights. this kid literally only wears one color, and that color just so happens to be the easiest possible color to coordinate. he owns like three pairs of shoes max. he wears his pants three sizes up and they drag so much that the hems are all frayed from him constantly stepping on them (literally canon, and one of my favorite details from chapter 218). he just doesn’t give a fuck, so long as the clothes are comfortable and don’t look stupid. he has about a million things he’s more concerned about than what he or anyone else is wearing. in fact I’m 90% sure that his mom still buys most of his clothes, and about 70% convinced he does not even know what size he is.

he’s good at household chores (because he’s good at everything), but hates doing them. aside from cooking, which he enjoys, he will bitch and whine nonstop if forced to do tedious-yet-necessary things like washing dishes and folding laundry. that said, he is a perfectionist, and he also has a lot of experience because his mom made him do chores all the time during the seven trillion times he was grounded while growing up (that’s his estimate, btw, so it may be slightly exaggerated. he was not an easy kid to raise. when your kid’s fuse is about a millimeter long and he has a tendency to literally blow up whenever he throws a fit, you end up with a lot of objects in your house that have been replaced at some point), so if you do actually manage to get him to do the chore, rest assured that chore is getting fucking DONE.

when he was very little he watched an Avengers Endgame-style All Might film where a bunch of bad guys attacked earth and various assorted heroes tried and failed to stop them. then at the climax of the film, All Might showed up and said “I am here”, and everyone got super pumped up and excited because they knew the heroes were going to win with All Might on their side. this scene remains Katsuki’s favorite scene in anything. not the fight -- just the moment where All Might shows up and grins and the audience knows right there and then that he’s going to win. this is the feeling that inspired his dream. he wants to be the one who shows up and everyone is like, “we’re good now; Katsuki is here.”

when he was six or seven he got into a big fight with an older boy over that scene because he said it was fake and that there was no way All Might could have beaten those guys in real life. Katsuki insisted he definitely would have because All Might never loses. the other boy replied that everyone loses sometimes. Katsuki kicked his ass and got suspended for a week.

ten years later, Katsuki watched All Might battle All for One at Kamino and realized two things. one, that the other boy was right and that anyone can lose. and two, that he, the one who had so proudly defended All Might back then, was going to end up being the reason why he finally lost.

for a long time afterwards, he couldn’t bring himself to watch that movie again.

when he and Izuku were three years old their moms sent them out on a first errand (google Hajimete no Otsukai if you’re unfamiliar with this tradition, I promise you it is the cutest fucking thing you’ll ever see) to buy ingredients for katsudon. Izuku was full of bouncy childish enthusiasm and could rattle off the full shopping list of ingredients front to back, but when the moment finally came his confidence wilted as soon as their parents were out of sight. Katsuki also had a moment of panic when they first rounded the corner and he couldn’t see his house anymore, but rallied once Izuku burst into tears and he realized that he had to be the one to take charge. he proceeded to morph into an absurdly over-the-top caricature of his own mother for the duration of the errand, to the point where in addition to telling Izuku to stop crying he also ordered him to stand up straight and tuck in his shirt. the two of them went on to complete the errand flawlessly and their moms were PROUD AS FUCK and took a billion pictures. Izuku and Katsuki have only a few scattered memories of this milestone in the present day but it’s enough to send both of them absolutely reeling with embarrassment whenever they’re reminded of it.

he and his mom don’t often get along but sometimes they’ll bond over roasting a mutual target. they have watched many a trashy reality TV show together for this purpose. Masaru lives for these moments but never comments on them lest he spoil the rare moments of peace.

Katsuki is perfectly capable of using keigo (i.e. normal polite Japanese with no rude language/cursing), otherwise he would not be one of the top students in his ivy-league high school. code-switching is a thing guys! anyways his teachers are aware of this, because all of his essays and homework assignments are written normally. he merely chooses to go about his daily business acting like a wannabe yakuza stereotype because that’s just his personality, and he’s not about to start censoring himself and acting like some weird little goody two shoes robot person just to please people he mostly doesn’t give two shits about. but if you put a gun to his head and told him you’d pull the trigger if he said “fuck”, he would probably be all right; he’d just have to concentrate.

when he was little he went through a phase of collecting cicada shells and leaving them EVERYWHERE -- in the bathroom sink, on his mom’s pillow, you name it. Mitsuki often tells people this is when she started getting gray hairs. one time she opened a box of cereal and there was one in there and a little bit of her soul died that day.

he generally doesn’t care who calls him Kacchan. it doesn’t particularly bother him and it never occurred to him to pretend like it did just for appearance’s sake. also secretly for some reason the thought of Deku ever calling him anything else really bothers him. he’s not sure what it would mean if that ever happened, or what he would do.

all of his workouts are designed to strengthen his arms and back and shoulders because those are the parts of his body that take the most abuse from his quirk. other than that he avoids building up excess muscle anywhere else because the more weight he puts on the harder it is to fly around. for this reason he is never going to end up being a big bulky guy like All Might. one day Deku is going to surpass him in muscle, but he doesn’t care because he’ll still be a match for him in firepower and speed.

he’s one of those kids who will not so much as take a sip of alcohol until he’s twenty-five. partly because he’s experienced enough concussions that he doesn’t particularly want to give hangovers a try, and partly because he’s a control freak and honestly afraid of getting drunk and making an idiot of himself somehow. the rowdier members of class A try virtually every trick in their wheelhouse and then some to try and persuade him over the years, but not even the reverse psychology “aw, don’t worry, it’s okay if you’re... scared :)” thing works, because that’s only actually effective when he secretly wants to do the thing.

then one day he just wakes up and is all “you know what, I’m gonna try it”, and for the next few days his google history is basically just “how many drinks does it take to get drunk” and “how to avoid getting drunk” and “how to prevent hangovers.” somehow word gets out through the grapevine (he probably told Todoroki, who is the one person in class A you’d think wouldn’t be a big ol’ gossip but in fact IS) that Bakugou is finally going to get his drink on that weekend, and pretty much EVERYONE shows up at the izakaya that Friday night excited as FUCK.

Katsuki proceeds to drink a grand total of two beers over the span of several hours, and drinks like five glasses of water in between, and literally nothing happens to him at all except that Kaminari almost fights him out of frustration. the rest of class A never fully gets over their disappointment.

he actually knows like 90% of class 1-A’s names by this point. there are still a few people he doesn’t and will never know, though. twenty years from now Aoyama will still be “that weird fucking french kid” in his mind.

he had no idea who Eri was until the Christmas party. sometimes he’d hear the other kids talking about someone named Eri, and from context clues he somehow ended up thinking it was one of Aizawa’s cats. when Eri came to the party he had a brief moment of curiosity wondering if she was Sensei’s niece or something, and then he heard someone say her name and he was all “THAT’S ERI?!” and his entire worldview was briefly shaken up.

he pulled Kirishima aside to ask him and Kirishima basically gave him Eri’s whole entire life story which was way more than he actually wanted to know. he’s now kind of terrified of ever being in the same room as her for fear of having to interact with her because he’s pretty sure he’d do or say the wrong thing. most of the time being intimidating is something he strives for and puts a lot of effort into, including when he’s around kids (who are basically just smaller, sloppier adults in his mind), but he doesn’t want to be the guy who scared an abused kid, so he basically just hopes the others will have enough common sense not to ever go “oh hey you know who should totally interact with each other?? Eri and Bakugou!”

that being said, if circumstances ever arose which forced Katsuki to protect Eri, the two of them would totally bond and they would have a really sweet relationship in which Eri looked up to him just like she looks up to Deku and Mirio and the rest, and where Katsuki was constantly trying to be on his best behavior around her, like genuinely, sincerely trying, and kind of failing at it a lot but still being sweet in a gruff sort of restrained-disaster way.

...and after sitting there for a while trying to think of more I couldn’t come up with any so I guess that’s it! basically most of my headcanons are about how secretly boring Katsuki is. honestly if it weren’t for him having the vocabulary of a 52-year-old sailor whose foot was caught in a bear trap, he and Iida would probably be best friends.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bnha meta #bakugou meta #bnha headcanons #don't think there're any spoilers here except for the detail about his pants in 219 lol #sorry if I have spoiled anyone for that #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks #long post #oh whoops it was actually 218 my bad just edited #wait a second the christmas party is spoilers isn't it lol whoops #bnha spoilers #there we go