#at least she managed to avoid all the bullshit before it

[themultifanshipper]

You could cut the tension with a knife. A double DNF was not good for the team or for you and Seb, both of you being so close to a championship win you could almost taste it.

Warnings: Violence, rancid vibes, under negotiated everything, very bad etiquette, rough sex, slapping, choking, all the good shit

Requested by 🐇

The crash was most definitely his fault. He tried to squeeze you into the wall, but miscalculated terribly, leading to both of you hitting the wall and losing a potential 43 points for the team.

To say you were pissed was an understatement. It was very obviously his fault, and everyone knew that, which made it all the more infuriating how cocky and dismissive Seb was about it.

On the walk back to the pits, he tried to make it out that you were to blame, trying to gaslight you into apologizing, and you completely lost it, launching yourself at him. You were halfway through strangling the life out of him before the marshals finally came and separated you.

Afterwards it was all side-eyes and glares in the media pen, doing interviews with at least 30 feet between you at all times. God knows what kind of bullshit he was spewing to the cameras as the interviewers swooned over his stupid handsome face as he flirted shamelessly to avoid having to answer any real questions.

When asked about what he thinks of you as a person, he answered with “Well it’s no secret that we don’t work well together, she’s not exactly a team player. Obviously she’s a beautiful woman everything, but she doesn’t belong here with the best of the best. She should follow her dad and stick to endurance.” He smirked and thanked the interviewer before moving on to the next one.

It wasn’t until you were back in your hotel room that you saw the interview, and when you did, you threw your phone across the room in anger. How dare he? You were p2 in the championship for the second year running. You dad had never even made it to formula 1. The fact that Seb would compare you to him even though he knew you wanted to distance yourself from your father’s image as much as possible sent you into a rage.

And before you knew it you found yourself banging on Seb’s hotel room door.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you shouted, as soon as he opened the door. He’d obviously come out of the shower, his wet hair dripping down his torso as you quickly trailed your eyes up and down his body. He didn’t even respond, just grinning lopsidedly at you.

“How dare you compare me to my father?” you shoved him backwards into the room and slammed the door behind you. The fucker didn’t waver, still smirking at you as if you were the funniest thing in the world right now. You wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face.

“I’m p2 in the fucking championship you asshole!” you went to slap him but he grabbed your arm and used your momentum to slam you against the wall, pinning your hands above your head.

So you tried to knee him in the crotch, but he slotted one of his legs between yours, gluing himself to your front. You squirmed but it was no use, he had you trapped.

“What are you going to do now, hmm?” he purred smugly.

Headbutt him is what you wanted to do, but before you could move he grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly.

You didn’t flinch though, if this is how he wanted to play it, you weren’t going down without a fight. So you bit his lip. Like, full on chomped down on it. He yelped and shifted backwards, wide eyes now full of anger and contempt. At least you’d finally managed to wipe that sexy infuriating smirk off his face.

He slapped you, hard, but instead of it hurting, it just served to fuel the fire burning inside you. You gasped and stared at him in disbelief, his pupils were dilated so the blue was barely visible, and his lip was bleeding slightly. What a sight.

“Do that again” He didn’t even hesitate as his hand struck your cheek a second time. Your hips involuntarily bucked up into his, and he groaned as they made contact with his rapidly hardening cock.

He rolled his hips and growled at the pathetic whimper you let out. He kissed you again and released your hands in favour of grabbing your ass and lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his hips and pressing you into the wall harder. You panted into the kiss, hands roaming and grabbing anything you could as he grinded against you roughly.

After a few minutes of biting and scratching and riling each other up even more, he couldn’t take it anymore so he put you down, immediately working at your pants to get them off as fast as he could.

Once you were both naked, he sat you on the nearest surface, which happened to be a desk, pushed you down roughly with a hand around your neck, propped your feet up on the edge and rubbed his cock along your folds, making you writhe in anticipation.

“You think you can take me just like this?” He asked, venom dripping from every word.

You nodded quickly but that didn’t satisfy him. He slapped your most sensitive area and you gasped, clit throbbing at the rough treatment.

“Use your words, slut”

“Yes! I can take it Seb just fuck me!”

He slapped your pussy again and you cried out. It was painful in the most delicious way and your concentration started wavering as you got lost in the feeling.

“That’s not very polite. Beg for it, baby.”

You did. You begged so much, so fast. You’ll deny till the day you die but any defiance you had disappeared embarrassingly quickly. Seb was so endeared that he wasted no time slipping just the tip in, but that was already a stretch.

Inch by inch, he pulled out and slid back in, doing his best not to hurt you, the absence of preparation suddenly in the forefront of his mind.

You on the other hand were loving every second of it. His cock stretched your walls out deliciously as you took more and more of him, and once he was buried inside you to the hilt, you moaned pathetically, feeling so incredibly full.

“Move, please Seb!” you whined, so he pulled out and slammed back in roughly, and the noise you let out, you would also deny making, but it drove Seb wild, so he tightened his grip around your neck and slammed into you repeatedly, hitting your g-spot with impressive precision.

You mind felt floaty and your body started going limp with the intensity of the pleasure he was giving you, and Seb noticed so he let go of your throat and shoved two fingers into your mouth.

“Suck” he ordered, and you did, biting his knuckles gently just to piss him off.

Once his fingers were nice and wet, he trailed them down your body to your sensitive clit and started rubbing tight circles as he continued to pound into you, trying to get you to the edge, him being embarrassingly close already.

It took you no time at all and you came with a shout, body arching off the desk as he chased his own high. He came inside you with a loud moan and slumped over your body, both exhausted after being so wired up all day.

He pulled out and got a damp cloth from the bathroom to clean you up with, before helping you get dressed, in total silence. You were both in shock at what you’d just done. You were teammates, bitter rivals, and now you had his cum dripping down your leg.

You stood at the door, unsure of what to say, when Seb pulled you into a brief hug.

“I didn’t mean it you know. The stuff I said in the interview” You looked at him with frown, he smiled. “I was just trying to piss you off enough for you to do something about it”

“You bastard” You giggled, opening the door to leave.

You were halfway down the corridor when he added “By the way, the crash was your fault! You should never try to pass the reigning champion when he’s leading a race!”

You rolled your eyes, not even bothering to look back.

God, you hated him.

[toulousewayne]

Wake Up : A Bat Family One-Shot

———

Beep….Beep….Beep.

That’s the only sound in the room. That and the sounds of the tubes contracting. The room is full of your brothers and father. Alfred had stepped out to speak with the doctors.

Bruce sat in a chair to your right with Damian on the opposite side of your hospital bed. Tim sat like a cat perched in the window seal. Gotham City in her rainy and gloomy glory was just beyond the glass. Though it seem a lot more dim then normal. Jason had snapped and left an hour ago. Dick was in the corner pf the dim room not meeting anyone’s gaze.

“I’m sorry.” Bruce managed to choke the words out. They were the first words he said to you since you fight hours ago.

You were Bruce’s Daughter, and you too didn’t always see eye to eye. But he loved you in his own way only Bruce could understand. He gently pushed a stray piece of hair away from your face.

Beep…Beep…Beep.

That was the only reply he gotten. He replayed early tonight over and over like it had his parents deaths for many years.

——

“Are you fucking serious!” You hissed at him. You glared daggers at your father.

“Y/n”

“No, you told me the reason you and canceled on me was because of some life saving event,” That was true, Bruce had canceled on her for the millionth time this week alone.

“I didn’t lie to you,” he spoke monotonously. “Clark asked me to accompany Jon and Damian on a mission.” He took a sip from his wine.

“Oh, I forgot your Boy’s clubhouse.” She spat.

—-

Bruce gently brushed your black and red knuckles. He let out a deep wounded sigh. Dick glanced over and narrowed his gaze. “This is all your fault.”

Bruce didn’t meet his gaze. “I didn’t make time for her I know that, I don’t your in put here Dick.” He said his name so cold it was almost as if that was he was calling him rather than calling his name.

Tim scoffed,”You both are to blame.” Dick shot his gaze to the college student nearly giving himself second degree whiplash.

“And what do you mean by that,Timmy?” The older man gaze never leaving the younger one.

“We all know Bruce blows everyone off unless it’s about the mission. You just do it because you don’t care about anyone but your Team or your girlfriend.”

Dick stares down at his brother and crosses the room some he’s with earshot of him.

“Tim that’s bullshit and you know it,” he tries to keep his anger in but it’s simmering and he could pop at any giving moment, “I do my best to be there,and yes I can be everywhere at once but I do try. At least I try to be.”

The room felt silent again with everyone’s on the comatose girl. The fight between them feeling as though it dismissed itself within seconds. Dick shoves his hands in his pockets and turns on his heels.

“I’m gonna go to the cafeteria, I’ll be back.” No one stops him. The door shuts softly and the only sound is the machines and the rain on the window.

A knock on the door brings everyone back to earth. It’s Alfred. “The Commissioner is here, he needs a moment with you Master Bruce.”

Bruce excuses himself and leaves the room.

——

Jason takes a long puff and the smokes leaves his lips. He looks toward the city through a rainy night. The red light the hospital cases a highlight on his face.

He blew up on Bruce twice tonight, not that he didn’t feel that it wasn’t necessary he did. But it didn’t change the pit in his stomach, nor the smells of gasoline, burning rubber, and metal.

He remembers everything.

——

“You avoiding me too?” He turns to the doorway of the library. You walk into the light of the fireplace.

“No but I don’t have any interest in spending the night in my old room.” He fired back turning the page of his book and placing a bookmark in it before standing up.

She shakes her head at her big brother. “Forgot, if I’m not apart of the missions you guys forget about us on the surface.”

He clicks his tongue and huffs,”Not like that.”

She shakes her head and grabes his plate and mug. “Sure it’s not, we used to hang out but now that I do go out anymore it’s like I’m a ghost to him. You too.”

Jason doesn’t meet her gaze right away. “I’m not talking to Daddy Bats right now. I only came because Golden Boy wouldn’t stop blowing up my phone. I just got back from Columbia this afternoon. I’m just tired is all. I’m free in a day or two.” He rubbed his face and turned back to her.

“Forget it Jason, rain check.” She mumbled and walked out the room.

——

Jason puts out the smoke and stomps on it before pushing his shoulders away from the hospital and heads back inside.

——-

Dick sat at table in the corner in the cafeteria. He took a sip of his coffee which tasted like old dirt water. Then again it was 1 am.

He throws his head back rubbing his temples trying to massage away his stress to no avail.

He gets to his feet and leaves and heads down the hallway. The rush of the hospital in full swing. Doctors getting paged, the sounds of nurses making rounds, phone lines ringing,etc.

He took a sit in the main lobby. He closed his eyes for a moment thinking about the last time he spoke to his sister. It was growing on three weeks.

——

“So??”

Dick woke up from dosing off. He rubbed his eyes and sighed.”Sorry it’s been a long 24 hours.” He sighed and scratched Haley’s head.

“I can tell, you’re not sounding like yourself.” He picked up the phone and walked into the kitchen opening the fridge. It’s only contents being a Chinese takeout container, a pizza box that he got earlier, two cans of diet soda, half a case of beer and three water bottles.

He takes a water and downs it. “Tell me about it and with this mission around the corner I need to get some rest but I doubt it.”

“What mission?”

Dick stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t told anyone but Barbara and Bruce that he was leaving for San Francisco in the morning to meet with the Titans.

“I heading back to the Titans, we have to head to investigate a lead.” He almost whispered the last part.

The line was silent for a moment. “And how long will you be gone Dick?” He couldn’t make out her tone but he could tell she wanted a different answer that what he was going to tell her.

“A month maybe less maybe more I don’t know until I get back.”

“So you’re not coming to graduation then.” She said a little more with intensity.

He sighs,”Look I’m sorry I know I haven’t been around—

“That’s an understatement.” She cuts him off.

He rubs his face,”I’m come to the next event I promise.”

She scoffed,”And what���s that Dickie Bird? You missed Ballet recitals, High School graduation and now college. You missed everything? You and Bruce are not that far apart.”

“That’s not fair, it’s important what I’m doing.”

“You don’t miss Damian art exhibition? It’s or Donna’s new studio opening. You were there for Bruce for a charity dinner two months ago yet you couldn’t bother to call me or even come ten feet to me at the same dinner to tell me you weren’t even staying till the next morning to go out like you had planned for months! You don’t miss anything for anyone else because they’ll be disappointed,but it’s fine to flake on your sister and I’m so supposed to be okay with that!”

“I’m so sorry it’s really not like that, look I’ll make it up—“

“Don’t bother Grayson, for once in all these years I thought for once you were gonna show up for me. I was wrong.” He could hear the hurt in her voice. Before he could say anything else she hung up.

That was Three Weeks ago and they hadn’t spoken.

——-

Tim hadn’t moved from his spot in the window. He turned back towards the room. Damian was sleep in his chair. He turned his attention to his older sister.

He thinks about the last few hours tonight. How things got so ugly so fast.

—

“Y/n, you’re being ridiculous. It’s a mission in East Asia not strike.” Bruce replied.

She glared at her father. The room was silent. “Do you take me for one of blind followers.”

“Excuse me?”

She leaned down so she was eye level. “I’m not one of your soldiers, and that’s part of the problem isn’t it Father?”

He returns her gaze. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, I may not always be there for you but I’m trying.”

She laughes at him, “When was the last time you were there for me that wasn’t lurking in the shadows, or stopping one of the criminals you created from nearly killing me and thousands of other people.” He gaze never leaving her and his jaw when slack too.

“You sit there and smile for the news and the rest of the world like we’re one Big Happy Family but we have never been.”

Tim pushes his food with his fork. And sighs. She turns to him, “Anything you want to say Tim, we may as well get everything off our chest.”

He huffs,”No but this isn’t going to change anything. “

She grins,”I agree with Tim.” Jason and Dick stare a look and Damian as long stopped eating and is watching the spectacle.

“You do?” Bruce raises a brow at her. She nods again. “Tim’s right, you’re never going to change until you take your last dying breath. Because God Forbid your kids dying own your watch doesn’t register to you that you need to be present more.”

The air in the room was still.

Bruce doesn’t look at her. Jason doesn’t look away but his plate. Damian squirms in his seat and Dick clears his throat.

“I tried to be there.” Bruce finally speaks.

“But you weren’t, and no one is blaming you for that.” Alfred cuts in hopefully to stop the mess from going any farther.

She huffs,”No but I least that would change your perspective of only throwing yourself into harms way every damn night. All of you, it’s like you all don’t even stop to think about yourselves.”

“Sister we are all trained, even yourself.”

“That’s not the point. I’m not saying you’re not capable,” she tone softens,” I’m saying that most of the time you remember that and that’s all that matters. You don’t think what happens if you miss step, you underestimate the villains next move, or what the consequences are for you charging into a mission without a second thought.”

Bruce leans forward,”I know what the stakes are. You don’t think I don’t know what happens if I don’t stop and think about that. You don’t know anything about what I do at night, the were a child and didn’t want this life for yourself.” He stood up and looked at her in the eyes.

“I never wanted you to be apart of that life, I know you couldn’t handle it.”

The boys turn to look at their sister and Bruce.

“So you thought that little of me?” Tears formed in her eyes but anger was the clearest emotion across her face.

“I thought you didn’t need to do what we do, you’re better at what you do now.” Though Bruce thought he was being sincere his tone was more condescending and cold.

“Bruce!” Dick shouts.

“Screw you, you just wanted be to be apart of your image.”

It dawned on him how he hadn’t been able to properly communicate to her.

“Y/n that—

She took off from the table, she grabbed her purse and keys.

“Don’t worry Father, I wouldn’t want to tarnish your reputation.” She slammed the door and charged to her car. Not once slowing down even with Tim calling her phone multiple times and Damian yelling from the doorway.

She sped off through the gates and onto the road.

——

Y/n takes a sharp turn onto the main road and wipes her face with her sleeve. She sob to herself feeling so many things at once.

The sky opened and rain harmed down onto the road. “Great.” She turned on her wipers and lights and continued driving back towards the city to go to her apartment.

She ignored her phone that wouldn’t stop buzzing from calls from her brothers.

She felt like not just Bruce but they also thought so little of her. Maybe that’s why they didn’t want to spend time with her.

She graduated from Gotham University last night with a Bachelor Degree and yet it felt like she was alone. Alfred and the girls came. Bruce had missed the entire ceremony along with Damian. Tim was just landing from attending a business meeting in New York,Jason and Dick already had prior encounters.

She felt like she didn’t really feel like she belong with them. She snapped out of her daze and grabbed her phone inside of purse. She answered.

“Tim please you guys have got to stop—

A loud hoar range out and within seconds she looked to see a large truck. She attempted to move out of his way but it all happened to fast. She took a sharp right turn but the truck smashed head on the passenger side door causing everything to feel like a free fall. Her phone, contents of her purse falling all around her. She herself was jerked all over.

The car was immediately crushed by impacted and began to roll and tumble down the hill until it crashed into several trees.

Tim heard the crash and ran downstairs to where is his brother and Father were sitting in the study. By the tears on his face Bruce stood up and was in front of him.

“What’s wrong?”

“She was hit…the truck…I-i can’t hear her.”

—-

Bruce was racing down the road. Tim was still on the phone but all he could hear was beeping from the car and something tapping.

He stopped with red and blue light came into his view.

The two got out the car but two officers tried to block their paths.

“That’s my daughter let me through.” He order but the officers tried to keep him through but he managed to push the two men and run towards the site. Detective Montoya was at the scene.

“Please, how is she?” Bruce asked. Her expression was anything but hopeful.

“I don’t know Mr. Wayne I just got here, the Fire Department got her first and are working to get her free. As if on time two paramedics rushed down the side with an Orange board with straps. Moments later the returned with three firefighters carrying Y/n. Cuts, bruised and marks littered her body. Her eyes were black and blue and a tube was down her throat with a brack around her neck.

“Is she gonna be okay?” Bruce asked uneasily.

“We’re taking her to Gotham General, she stable but we have to go.” The younger paramedic told him. He turned to Tim who hopped in the ambulance with his sister and Bruce backed away slowly as the ambulance rushed down the street with sirens and light flashing.

He made it inside his car followed them.

—-

The first few hours were a blurry, she was rushed into surgery. Tim sat in the emergency room waiting area until Alfred arrived with the rest of the boys and they were taken upstairs to her room where Bruce was already waiting.

45 minutes later a nurse came in to tell them she was out of surgery. Shortly, afterwards the surgery told them the damages she suffered and she would be in a medical coma for a few days to help with the pain and swelling

And that brings us to the present.

Bruce re-entered the room and took his seat back.

“She’s gonna be okay,right B?”

He nodded. “We hope so. She’s a fighter like us.” He took her cold hand and offered a gentle squeeze. Dick,Jason and Alfred returned as well.

Alfred placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder,”She is, and now we have to wait for her to fight her way back to us.”

[eddiemunsonspantschain]

Things Change - Ch. 4

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Pregnant!reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.8 k

Tag List: @boomhauer @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @blackwidownat2814 @prestinalove

Eddie was growing frustrated. He had tried more than once now to talk to you. When back in school, he had tried to seek you out, but you always managed to slip him. The times he went to catch you at your locker, you had conveniently not been there. He tried to sneak into your gym class and he didn’t exactly want to make a scene, but it had been obvious you were trying to act like he wasn’t there. Even in the classes you had together, you showed up last to the class and bolted as soon as the bell rang. At this point, he was getting desperate and the way you avoided him made him no less suspicious that you were carrying his kid. Finally, Eddie walked away from his Hellfire table and dropped himself down onto the table where Robin and Nancy sat eating their lunch. Once again, without you there. 

“Where is she?” Eddie asked the girls.

Robin gave a panicked glance to Nancy, who crossed her arms and regarded Eddie casually. “Who?” Nancy asked him.

“Don’t bullshit me, Wheeler. Y/L/N. Where is she?” he asked again. 

“Not here.” she answered, “Don’t know when I might see her again.”

“You both are her best friends. I don’t believe that,” Eddie pointed out, glancing at Robin, who was practically sweating. Eddie leaned in towards them both. “Listen. I know that you know why I’m looking for them. I just wanna talk to them… please.” Eddie spoke softly, looking at both girls. 

Nancy watched Eddie before looking at Robin, giving the other female a little nod. “She doesn’t eat in here because…. Obvious reasons. But-” Robin started.

“We won’t tell you where she’s eating purely because she’s been struggling to keep food down and she needs to eat. We don’t need you making her nervous and unable to eat,” Nancy cut in.

“But she’ll be home tonight. She’s been sleeping over at our places recently, but she’s home tonight. To face her parents,” Robin supplemented. “They’ve been getting suspicious, and she figured now is better than never.” 

Eddie chewed on the inside of his cheek as he processed the information. Was she planning on telling her parents that he was the father and rope him into this? “Thanks. I appreciate it,” Eddie told them and moved to get up.

“Don’t hurt her.” Nancy stared at him. “I know you, for whatever reason, don’t like her… but don’t you dare hurt her. Or I swear-”

Eddie held his hands up. “I’ve seen you wield a gun, Wheeler. No need to threaten me.” he cracked a smile and stood up from the table. “Ladies,” he bowed and left their table, heading back to his own. 

—--------------------------------------------------

It had been a long week, and you looked forward to a weekend without Eddie Munson. Well, without having to avoid him, at least. All your efforts at school had been dedicated to avoiding him. The paranoia grew in you that he knew. Why else was he trying so hard to see you? It was clear with how often he was turning up that he was trying to see you. Firstly, at your gym class, which is what really made you suspicious. From there, it made you avoid going to your locker too often. Your back and arms just had to suffer with carrying more than you usually would with you. Secondly, at lunch but you had just managed to slip away in the crowd of hungry and unruly teens to avoid him. So here you were. Carrying all your stuff, eating lunch in the library, showing up to class almost late, and then leaving right when the bell rang. It was the last class of the day. You were eager to go home and just rest. You sighed as you set down your pencil, feeling another wave of nausea hit you. Shockingly you had made it through most of the day without having to run off. You thought maybe you had gotten lucky. You raise your hand, sure that this might not be a false alarm, but you’ve learned quickly that it was better safe than sorry. There had been once or twice you had thought you were safe, but you weren’t and had to sneak off in the middle of the night to do a load of laundry.

You head out of the classroom and towards the closest bathroom. You look under each stall, checking that the coast was clear before heading into a stall. You sigh as you take some toilet paper, leaning against the cool metal of the stall as you wait. You close your eyes, taking a few deep breaths as you work through the nausea. The door to the bathroom opens, not that you find it odd since it was a public bathroom after all. A gasp ripped through you at the sudden opening of the stall door. Your head whips around, eyes wide as Eddie steps into the stall. He shuts the door behind him, locking it once again.

“Eddie!” you hiss at him. “What the fuck?!”

“Me? Me, what the fuck?!” he hisses back at you.

“What are you doing here?”

“Talking to you, obviously.”

“Why?” you grind out, inching away from him.

“I have to talk to you,” Eddie answers, “About a certain… something.” 

You freeze. You had hoped against all odds that he really just wanted to speak to you about something else. Not the secret you had hidden away. “Something?” you ask softly, deciding to play dumb for right now. 

“Yeah. I heard an interesting piece of information. Well, everyone has.” 

You swallow hard. “Yeah?”

You both sit and stare at one another. Eddie raises his brows as if to invite you to get it out in the open. When you stayed silent, he huffed in frustration. “Y/L/N, are you pregnant?”

Your eyes move everywhere but at Eddie. “Eddie, please…” you murmur.

“Y/L/N.”

“Yes! Okay, yes.” you answer, looking at him finally. 

The look on Eddie’s face is one you struggle to decipher. He looked shocked, worried, but also amazed. “Who’s the father?” Then your stomach dropped. You stared at Eddie like a fish out of water. “Y/L/N. Who is the father?” Eddie repeated himself more firmly this time.

It was just then that the bell rang. “You have seconds.” you replied.

“What?”

“You have seconds before this bathroom is full of girls and I will leave you here,” you warn, reaching behind Eddie for the lock on the stall door.

“Y/L/N, I swear to god.”

“Decide before you have people talking about you hiding in the girls' bathroom.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched at your thin threat. He took a deep breath before pulling the stall door open, stalking out of the bathroom. It was then that you let out a shaky breath, shutting the door again and resting your forehead against the cool metal.

That had been too close. Far too close. You slid out of the bathroom after a few minutes, weaving between bodies of girls flooding the bathroom. You retrieve your things from your last class and quickly make your way out of the building to head home. Before dinner, you hopped into the shower to wash away the stress of the day. You scrubbed at your body, relaxing under the scalding water of the shower. When you got out, you made quick work to dry yourself, pulling on comfy clothes. Tonight was the night you had planned on telling your parents what was going on. They grew suspicious each day, and you knew you couldn’t hide forever. For a moment, you considered changing your mind, but you couldn’t do that. It was better to rip the bandaid off first. You sat on your bed before flopping back, taking in a deep breath and willing the tears to stop gathering on your lash line. You cried so easily nowadays it was exhausting. 

A gentle tapping stirred you from your moment. You turn your head, jumping seeing someone sitting at your window. You groan, seeing the familiar face staring back at you that you had only seen a few hours ago. Eddie gave you a look before motioning down to the lock on your window. You pout at him, crossing your arms. 

“Y/L/N, open the window.” his muffled voice sounds from the other side of the window. You flip him off. Eddie stares you down sternly. “Open it or I’m breaking in.”

You huff, going to the window and unlocking it before walking away. You hear the widow slide up and the gentle thudding as Eddie climbs into your bedroom before sliding the window shut once more. “Do I wanna know why you’re threatening to break into my house?” you ask, crossing your arms across your chest.

“You know why and you know it. You never answered my question in the bathroom,” Eddie points out, not moving away from the window. Like he might throw himself out of it if he needed to.

You take a shaky breath; the tears gathering once again at your lash line. Eddie looks at you, a hint of worry on his face. “Fine. If you’ll stop following me around, I’ll tell you.” you answer and furiously wipe at your cheeks when the tears finally escape. “It’s yours. Okay? I haven’t been with anyone else. Frankly, it’s a little insulting you think I was.”

“Well, you told me you were on the pill,” he accused. “Or was that a lie?”

“It wasn’t!” you hissed back at him, turning to your bedside table and pulling the drawer out roughly. You pull out your package of birth control and toss it at him. “For obvious reasons, I have stopped taking them,” you tell him as you watch him pick up the little package. “Fun fact: some medications can fuck with your birth control.” you pick up the bottle of migraine meds and shake it, the sound of the pills rattling around the only sound in the room. You set down the box and watch Eddie fiddle with the package of your now useless birth control. You sit down on your bed, pulling your pillow onto your lap and fiddling with the end of it. Eddie slowly moves closer, sitting down beside you on your bed and tossing the birth control behind him.

“What do we do?” he finally murmurs. “Isn’t there like… doctors who take care of this shit?”

You sigh. “I tried. I did… it was awful there, Munson. Trust me,” you admit, glancing at Eddie. His eyes were trained on the wall across from you both. You could see his chocolate orbs moving, taking in your bedroom.

“Wheeler said you were telling your parents tonight.”

“I am. My mom is suspicious. She’s been asking a lot of questions. I don’t think she knows, but she knows something is up.” 

“What’s the chance I’m gonna end up with a shotgun pointed at my chest?”

“None.” Eddie finally meets your eyes. “I was going to keep your name out of it. Unless you don’t want me to, but I kinda assumed you didn’t wanna be in on this.”

Eddie nods slowly. “I’d appreciate that. I don’t think…I don’t think I could do it. I can’t do it.”

You nod. “Then I won’t mention you. I promise. They might try to strong arm an answer out of me but you have my word. I won’t tell a soul.”

“No one else knows?”

“Well, no. Nancy does. She knows we… but we haven’t talked about it.”

“Got it.” Eddie murmurs, falling silent again. The two of you sit there in silence for a few minutes, both unsure what to do now. “I’m sorry,” Eddie suddenly spoke. “For… knocking you up. Ruining your life I guess.”

“It’s okay.” you shrug, “I… college will be there. And besides, I wanted to be a mom one day and if you remember, I tried to go, but I couldn’t do it. It reeked of alcohol, like it was too clean in there. And everything, literally everything, was pink and blue.”

Eddie’s nose scrunched. “As if you gotta be reminded why you’re there.”

“Exactly! It was awful. And ugly. The smell I can wave off cause I feel like a bloodhound right now. Not something they can help.”

“Really?” 

You nod, staring at Eddie. “I can smell things that literally were hardly in the room. When my mom cooks, I have to hide up here.” you point to your door where you shoved a spare towel at the bottom of it with the intention of blocking out the smell. “I can smell the weed and cigarettes on you from when you were at the window.” you tell him.

“I haven’t smoked in hours.” Eddie replies and you nod, tapping your nose.

“Bloodhound. It’s insane. The smell is clinging to your clothes.”

“That’s… weird.”

“Munson, that’s not even the beginning of it.” you answer, “I checked out a bunch of pregnancy books. Shit is wild. And mildly terrifying and by mildly, I mean very.”

Eddie winces thinking about how it must be. He’s seen pregnant women before, of course. Their bellies swollen well past their feet. The thought passes through his head how he had now done this to you. What you were going to go through.

“You should go.” you murmur. Your mom would be calling you down for dinner soon and you rather Eddie be nowhere near your house when you did talk to them. “My mom will be calling me down any time now,” you explain.

Eddie nods and slides off of your bed. He stands there awkwardly for a moment, unsure how to say goodbye to you. “I’ll, uh, see you later,” he murmurs and moves over to your window. You slide off of your bed and follow him, watching him open up your window again and climb out. You slowly shut your window, locking it once again, and watch Eddie carefully scale back down the side of your house. You watch as he jogs off, presumably to his car, that he probably parked farther from your house to avoid suspicion. You step away from the window, determined not to sit and watch to see if he comes back. A small part of you wanted him to. You stood alone in your bedroom as you realized you would have to do this alone, too. You were going to do all of this alone. Your hand drifts to your stomach once again just as your mom calls your name up the stairs, adding that dinner is ready.

You sigh and move the towel from the door, heading down the stairs to the dining room. Your parents are sat at the table. Your father sat at the head of the table, cold beer cracked open to accompany his dinner. Your mom is fussing around, getting the last bits of dinner onto the table before sitting down to pour herself a glass of red wine.

“Oh, there you are, honey. I think I’ve got everything.” your mom smiles, motioning for you to sit.

You go over, sitting down in your usual spot. You start to fill your plate knowing you probably won’t eat most of what you pile on there. Your parents launch into a conversation about how their day went as you take bites of mashed potatoes. It was one of the few food items you could manage without feeling ill after.

—-------------------------------

Eddie pulls himself into his van and as he shuts the door, a pit sets in his stomach. It doesn’t feel right. None of it feels right. He feels like.. He isn’t sure. He turns the key in his ignition and his van roars to life. For once in his life, he turns his music down as the voice of Ozzy fills the space. Eddie leans back in his seat, glancing around the quiet neighborhood he doesn’t belong in. He rolls down his window, pulling his pack of Camels from his jacket pocket and quickly placing one between his lips. He lights it up and takes a long drag of some much needed nicotine. He feels it quell his nerves a bit, enough for him to think about going home. He pulls the cigarette from his lips, a plume of smoke billowing from his lips as he switches the gearshift to drive. He pulls away from his spot and heads back to the trailer park.

By the time he gets there, his cigarette is done, and he feels only a little better. He figures some food would do him some good. He jumps out of his van and heads inside. Uncle Wayne is at the stove, working on dinner for them both before his shift. The old man usually eats and jets off. “Hey, son.” Wayne calls. He piles a plate full of spaghetti with marinara and grabs a second one, bringing both to their small table.

“Hey, Uncle Wayne.” Eddie answers, barely managing not to wince at being called ‘son’. It didn’t bother him that Wayne was calling him that. It was the fact that his immediate thought was: would I have a son? Or a daughter?

Wayne sets the plates down and falls into his seat with a soft grunt. He starts to dig in, noticing Eddie still standing there. “Cat got your tongue, boy?” 

Eddie shakes his head as if to physically clear it from more thoughts of you. He pulls out his chair and slides his jacket off, draping it over the back of his chair before falling into his seat and starting to shovel spaghetti into his mouth. A part of him felt like vomiting. Not vomit, but words. He felt anxious. He wanted to tell Wayne. He wanted advice. What should he do? He thought he did the right thing… but did he?

“What’s bothering you?”

Eddie’s head snaps up, staring at his uncle. Wayne is watching him, silently twirling spaghetti around his fork as he regards his nephew. “W-What?” Eddie managed to spit out.

“You’ve been livin with me on and off for a few years now. Since you were a wee boy. Now steadily living with me for a few years now. I know when something is bothering you. Are you having nightmares about that place again? Should I call those doctors?”

“No! No, no nightmares again.” Eddie reassures his uncle. After everything had happened and Eddie was laid up in the hospital, it became impossible to keep the truth from him. The party, along with Chief Hopper and Ms. Byers, had filled his Uncle Wayne in on what had really happened. Wayne hovered a lot more after he had learned what happened. After a year had passed, he started to ease up.

“Then what’s bothering you so much? You look like you’re ready to start climbing the walls.”

“I got a girl pregnant!” Eddie yelled, voice cracking in the beginning, but he had said it. Loudly. 

Wayne sat there, mouth open as he stared at Eddie. Eddie gulped, ready for the talking to of his lifetime. Did he get yelled at when Wayne found out he sold weed? Yes. Did he get scolded for all the times he failed graduating high school? Yes. Did he get gently scolded for disappearing after what happened in their old trailer?... yes. But this? Eddie had no clue what would happen. Wayne dropped his fork, elbows on the table, as he laced his fingers together. He watched Eddie. Eddie hoped the ground would open up and swallow him whole. 

“And?” Wayne asks.

Eddie’s mouth opens and closes. And what? Eddie thought to himself. Wayne is still watching him. “And?” he repeated back to his uncle.

“And what are you going to do about it?” Wayne asks, “What has she said?”

Eddie gulps again. “She, uh, she is telling her parents. Tonight. Probably like right now.”

“So, why are you here?”

Eddie’s eyes finally move back down to his plate at Wayne’s question. “She, we, uh,”

“Look at me, son,” Wayne softly commands.

Eddie looks back up at his uncle. “I’m being left out of it. Her parents won’t know it’s me and I won’t be…”

“Around?” Wayne looked disappointed. “Who decided that?”

“She suggested it. And I agreed. I wanted it…”

“So you’re telling me that you got this girl pregnant and you just let out? Abandon her and your kid. Cause whether you like it or not, son, that baby is half yours. Half your genes. Half your responsibility. Hell, since you up and left her it should probably be more your responsibility than her’s. You’ve got the swimmers, after all.” 

“Wayne,” Eddie barely got the word out.

“I ain’t done.” Wayne warned him, giving him a look. “I thought I raised you better, Edward. I woulda thought…” Wayne heaves a heavy sigh. “I woulda thought after being around Al Munson that you’d do better than him.”

Eddie felt like ice was being pumped through his veins. He felt anger boil in his chest. He wasn’t his father. He was nothing like Al Munson, who disappeared on and off on Eddie since he was in the third grade. Who he hadn’t seen in years after the last time he tried to get him to help him with some scheme. But Eddie also felt guilt. He felt guilt in the pit of his stomach because Eddie had abandoned you. He left you there alone to face your parents alone. Like a coward. Like a coward, he ran again.

“I’m disappointed, son.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Eddie admitted quietly, “I don’t know how to be a dad. I’d probably suck at it.”

“You don’t know that. Hell, you think anyone has any idea how to be a parent? I sure as shit didn’t. But I learned. I learned how to take care of you right.” Wayne shrugs, “And I think I did a pretty good damn job, all things considered. Ya know, besides the other dimensions thing.”

“I’m scared, too.”

“And you think she isn’t?” Wayne chuckled, “Boy, you have no clue what she’s about to go through. But there’s still time for you to change your mind. Take responsibility. I’m not sayin you have to marry the girl. You don’t even have to be with her if that’s not what you want, but be there for that baby. They’re innocent in all this, you know.”

Eddie slumped in his seat. He knew his uncle was right. Of course, his uncle was right. Eddie glanced at the clock. He had to hope you hadn’t told your parents yet. If you had, hell, he might have time to jump in the middle of a screaming match. Eddie pushed away from the table, pulling his jacket off of his chair and slipping it on.

“Atta boy. I’ll put your food in the fridge.” Wayne told him, “Oh, and son?”

Eddie paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Yeah?”

“You better bring her by to meet your old man.”

Eddie gulped and nodded. “Yes, sir.” he saluted his uncle before flying out the door to his van.

[gemini-sensei]

Everything Has Changed Pt. 2 | Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz x Chubby!LaRusso!Reader

○ Part 1 ○

CW: teen pregnancy, angst, forbidden/secret relationship, small enemies to lovers.

"Have you picked what book you're gonna read for the book report in Mrs. Sheete's class?" Hawk asked, reaching across his bed for the book list beside Reader. He looked at it as she hummed in response.

"Mhm," she let out softly, looking up.

She watched him closely, paying attention to the way his eyebrows knit up as he scanned the list. His eyes showed how bored he was with the titles their teacher had given them to choose from. It was quite amusing to watch as he steadily became a little frustrated.

He huffed and set the list aside. "That's bullshit. Everything on there is so fucking old. Why can't we read something, ya know, we can actually relate to?"

Reader smirked but tried to hide it. "I don't know. What would you read and find relatable?"

He looked up at her, unamused with her amusement simply because he didn't want to do the assignment. However, as she leant back on one hand, she used the other to cradle her just-beginning-to-show belly. It was showing to them, at least, when they were alone like this. She could be herself with him unlike any relationship she's had before, romantic or platonic. She could wear whatever she wanted, which included cute striped maternity shirts.

Perhaps he thought it was so cute because he bought it for her. When the opportunity arose to buy himself some new clothes, he'd opted to get her a few things too. He knew it wasn't easy for her get anything for herself with her overbearing family always around. They knew her parents were getting suspicious of her, thought that she was hiding something. So he got her a few shirts.

They were a little baggy, giving a little room for her to grow into. They were comfortable and she loved them, wearing them under an even baggier shirt when she went to school or around her house. Though they both knew that soon enough they wouldn't hide anything. She'd full them out and the fat of her belly would round out in a baby bump.

As he watched her now, understood what she was trying to convey in that simple action - cradling her precious little belly. No one else at their school would be able to read a book about being pregnant and relate to it.

He sighed and avoided her question. "Okay, so it doesn't really matter, right? I mean, it's not as if I could pick a book not on the list anyway."

"Sheete likes you a lot, so maybe you could," Reader suggested.

"No, I'll just pick one of these," he grumbled. She giggled as he took up the paper again and looked at it. "What are you reading?"

"Little Women."

He hummed, then dropped the list. It floated away and fell to the floor. He leaned over their textbooks and notebooks and assignments, grinning at her. "I guess I'll read that too."

"Oh yeah?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why? So you can cheat off my paper?"

He chuckled. "No, of course not. Though having someone to talk over all the riveting topics sounds like a great idea."

She laughed and leaned closer to him. "Sure, whatever you say. I think you're just copying me." Then she pecked his lips. "But I don't mind."

He smiled. "Good, I really don't wanna read anything else."

And he kissed her, supporting himself on both hands so she didn't have to lean over into him too much. His hands, balled into fists, sunk into the mattress and moved all of their school supplies, not that either of them cared. They became too involved in each other to notice or do anything about it, even though the kiss wasn't vigorous or very empassioned. It was sweet and simple and lovely.

She loved it.

As the weeks passed, Reader grew bigger. Her belly rounded out and the pudgy fat that once resided there became a hard bump. It was harder to hide but she managed.

She knew the longer she let the secret dwell, the worse it would be when she told people. But she didn't care. She loved having the pregnancy just her hers and Hawk's. It was theirs to keep, theirs to smile about in his car and talk about in whispers. No one else was involved and it was perfect. It was amazing.

What wasn't so amazing was a charity dinner her parents wanted to drag her and her siblings to for the evening. She didn't care how important it was to them or the business. After the long day she'd had, including a secret doctor's visit with Hawk, all she wanted to do was lay down and sleep. Her feet were killing her but it wasn't as if she could spring the pregnancy on her parents and ask them to go without her.

As she went through her wardrobe, she wandered around her room in nothing but her panties and a maternity shirt Hawk had gotten her. It was solid black but stretched just right to accommodate her bump. She got caught up at the mirror, looking at her reflection as she held her baby bump affectionately.

When she thought about it, she couldn't believe she'd hated Hawk so much before. His rivalry with the Miyagi-Do students wasn't her battle at all, no matter if Sam was in the middle of it all or not. She had no real reason to hate him and the same was true about him. He'd never really hated her, only acted like it because that was "what he was supposed to do" because of her family. She was a LaRusso and Cobra Kai was supposed to hate them for some reason. She chose not to worry with it anymore, especially since their little one was on the way.

She hoped the fighting would be over by the time they were born. As if that were the most pressing issue in all of this, but it was ever-present on her mind. It was all her father and sister could talk about, her friends were caught in the middle of it; Hell, sometimes it was the only thing the school was talking about. It was inescapable and she just wanted it to be over. For her baby's sake.

"Sweetheart, are you ready? We're gonna be late if you-" a voice said from behind her.

Reader turned with a startle, grabbing her shirt to cover her belly. However, it was too late. Her father had seen her bump.

He stared at her for a long moment, standing in her doorway froze. He pointed to her belly and asked, "Is that what I think it is?"

"Dad, I can explain," she said.

"Then start explaining," he said. He sounded lost, like his mind and body were disconnected. He stared at her expectantly nonetheless and waited for her to start talking.

"Um, well," she said, completely unprepared. Her hands shook and the shirt fell from her hands, revealing her bump once more. She averted her eyes, unable to look at her father. "I'm pregnant..."

He nodded, understanding that much. Perhaps he just had to hear her say it, but that didn't make the situation any better. He looked her over, mouth falling open. "You're so big. How... how could you hide this from us?"

"I'm not that far along, Dad, really. It's just because I'm fat," she said.

"You're not fat, sweetheart," he said, an automatic and well-meaning statement she'd heard her whole life. However, it was misplaced here.

Reader rolled her eyes and huffed, though she felt like she was trying to catch her breath. She was halfway between screaming and crying. This wasn't exactly how she wanted her dad to find out. "I'm fat, Dad. Deal with it because that's not even the problem here."

He was trying to give himself time to let it sink in. That's what Reader told herself, but as she saw the lost look leave his eyes, anger settled in them. And she knew why.

"Who did this?"

"Dad-"

"No, Reader, tell me. Who did this to you?"

"He didn't do this to me," she said, scoffing. "We fucked."

He cringed and waved his hands in the air, not wanting to hear her vulgar description of it. "Sweetheat-"

"Who is he!?"

"Hawk!"

Everything stopped. The air grew tense. Her boyfriend's name left her lips before she could fully think about it and her heart sank, fear gripping it.

Then Daniel turned and marched downstairs.

"Dad!" Reader went after him. She wasn't waddling yet, but it felt like it was just around the corner if she was being honest. "Dad, stop! Where are you going!?"

"Daniel?" Amanda's voice came from the foyer.

Daniel walked past her and grabbed his keys, angrily opening the front door.

"Dad! Please don't do something stupid!"

He turned to look at his daughter, shaking his head. "I'm gonna do anything stupid, dear. I'm just gonna go have a little talk with that- that selfish, moronic, violent snake!"

He slammed the door behind him and Reader jumped. Amanda came to her side and hugged her, only then noticing her bump.

"Oh, honey..."

"Mom, he's gonna kill him!" Reader cried, tears quickly welling in her eyes and falling down her cheeks. She shook horribly and cried in her mother's arms, inconsolable.

"Shh, he's not going to hurt anyone, honey," Amanda whispered, rubbing her daughter's back soothingly. She kissed her head, unsure if she could trust her own words. They were in uncharted territory, and knowing her husband, there was no telling what he'd actually do to the boy. "It's going to be okay."

"But he-he thinks Ha-Hawk is just a punk that knocked me up!" Reader cried. "But we love each other! We really do! This didn't just ha-happen because of something totally stupid! He-he takes such good care of me, M-mom!"

"What's going on?" Sam asked, coming down the stairs. She stopped as she saw her distraught sister crying in their mother's arms.

"Sam, sweetie," Amanda said softly, looking up at her. "Go get your sister some clothes."

"And my phone!" Reader yelled, not meaning too.

She had to warn Hawk that her father was coming for him. She didn't know how he was going to find her boyfriend, but knowing her dad, he had his ways. He always knew where to look and if she knew her dad at all, she'd look for a snake in its den. She just hoped karate training was over.

[fookingmuffins]

Say something babe pt 3

James potter x reader (well not anymore really)

Angst

Warnings: cheating, lying, few punches are thrown and cursing I think? (Switch of povs)

A/n: last part!I hope you guys can enjoy this part as much as the others. There's different povs and a time skip in this part. Thank you for the lovely feed back genuinely means so much to me and got me so excited to write again. So maybe next time I'll write something a little bit more happy 💀

James had fucked up he knew right when you rejected his kiss, and then you went and mentioned Lily, and he expected to be a dead man by the time you got out of his dorm, so he tried to lie again unfortunately that was apparently not an option this time. You had always been the type of person to wear your heart out on your sleeve without a care in the world, but right now seeing you seemed, so emotionless, James was sure he preferred the screaming and crying. He had cheated on you, yet you were so emotionless which if he was being honest stung a little because did you not love him? Why didn't you care?

As you got up deep down, James knew it was really over, especially after you called him Potter with such venom in your voice that was usually full of love for him, but part of him hoped you would come back to him the way you always did. In the meantime, he would have Lily to keep him entertained.

When the other Marauders came back, Sirius was carrying a honeydukes bag, "Where's y/n? I figured she was having a bad day. Or weeks I don't know she's acting different, so I brought her favorite treats." James knew that Sirius and y/n had been friends since childhood since they both came from pure-blood families and her father had hoped for them to marry before leaving her mother, who unlike most pure-blood Slytherin was not prejudiced against muggles.

"She broke up with me…" James knew that Padfoot loved him, but he'd be a fool to think he wouldn't hex him if he knew the truth about how he hurt his other best friend, so he kept it short

"What!? Why!? What in Merlin's baggy fronts did you do Potter?"

"What? Why did I have to do something? She's the one who broke up with me!... a-all because, apparently, I was no longer good enough for Ms. Popular." Sirius looked at James, not believing a word he was saying, all the marauders knew you were most definitely not that type of person. But he had to lie and hope they didn't find out the truth because if Sirius found out he was a dead man. Especially since at the beginning, Sirius was not at all happy with the relationship, yet James insisted, and he had no choice but to accept it for the sake of his two best friends.

"That has to be bullshit!" Sirius turned around to head out again, probably to look for you, but Remus stopped him and told him to just do it tomorrow. At that moment, James thanked whatever greater power had saved him and started concocting a plan to keep Sirius and y/n from speaking.

.......♡☆♡........

This was not how James Potter was planning to spend his last few days at Hogwarts. Only a week after y/n broke up with him and word got out, Lily Evans had also ended things with him, no longer deeming him interesting and refusing to make them official again. James' hopes of y/n crawling back to him soon enough also started to waver as she refused to even spare him a look and if by some miracle she did look in his general direction her eyes passed through him as if he was just another stranger. His former fan club of fangirls had also dispersed, most of them being too loyal to y/n for one reason or another, and it was not like they knew why they broke up, but they knew that if y/n was ignoring his existence it was with good reason. James was at least relieved that y/n had also been avoiding Sirius and the rest of the marauders, so at least he still had his friends with him.

But unbeknownst to him today, exactly 3 days before their official last day at Hogwarts, Sirius managed to corner you and finally got you to talk.

"-and then I kept stirring and stirring and stirring the potion, but I swear I wanted to stop but dream me was in some sort of trance-"

"Sirius please I swear I'm fine I'm over James, and I'm sorry for ignoring you, but please just let me go."

"I told you not until you tell me what he did to you. I know he did something because he said you didn't think he was popular enough for you, which like hello? So dumb and so unlike you, and you wouldn't ignore me unless you thought I was involved in whatever fuck up he did. Which I'm not! And plus I have not seen a real smile from you since before spring break, so you're stuck here with me till you talk. Now where was I?.... right! So I kept stirring and stirring…" You were sure that what Sirius was doing right now could be qualified as torture after he had cornered you and locked you with him in an empty classroom, he immediately tried to get you to talk. But since you refused he proposed he would wait till you were ready to tell him, however in the meantime he would tell you a story. Which was all fine and dandy, except his story had been in the same part for over 20 minutes now, and you could only hear him talk about stirring a potion a certain amount of times.

"Okay! Fine! If you really don't know, I'll talk!" And you did. By the time you were done, Sirius was seething and cursing James however when he looked at you and how your once brilliant eyes had lost their spark, and you looked so tired he decided to postpone James' doom for a little bit and instead pulled some sweets from his bag and spent the whole afternoon talking to you about everything and nothing, even getting you to laugh few times with stories about how he would pretend to be your knight when you were obsessed with being a princess as a kid and this time you actually felt the joy of laughing. You had forgotten how lucky you were for having someone who knew you the way Sirius did. (And thankfully there were no more mentions of his potion dream!)

By the time it was night, he walked you to your house and said goodbye to you with a tight hug, making you promise to never ignore him that way again, or he would probably go insane. After watching you go in through your house's entrance, he turned around with just one thought on his mind. James Potter was going to pay for hurting his princess.

.......♡☆♡........

James Potter quite literally had no idea what hit him as soon as he came out of the bathroom. One moment he was making his way to his bed and the next he was on the floor holding his nose, which he was pretty sure was broken.

"What the fuck, Pads! What the fuck was that for!?" James was sure he had never been more grateful for Peter and Remus, the latter who was instantly ready to stop whatever the fuck had gotten into Sirius.

" Remus, I swear, you better get out of my fucking way and let me settle this with this cheating pig!" At that moment, everything stopped for James. You had told Sirius, he couldn't believe it. He knew that at that moment he was essentially a dead man walking. He knew that if Sirius stopped at just a broken nose, he should consider himself lucky.

"Cheating pig? What the hell are you going on about now, Pads?" Peter looked between James and Sirius, expecting an explanation from either of them.

"What James? Apart from being a cheater and a lying bitch, you're also a fucking coward?" James wanted to cry, he wasn't sure if it was from the pain on his face or because he was fucking terrified. "Fine, I'll tell them myself about how you had the audacity to cheat on the most amazing girl with your ex, talk shit about her behind her back, and he gaslit her so bad she lost all the fucking spark in her eyes!"

"He what?!"

"No fucking way!"

Both Peter and Remus were both now looking at James with a mixture of disbelief, disgust and disappointment. He didn't want to look at them, but he could feel Sirius look of pure hatred looking at him.

"Pads I-I didn't mean to hurt her, it just happened… b-but now that you know and have talked to her ma-maybe we can fix this! I can make it up to her, and we can get back together. It could be a nice way to pay me back for helping you get away from your parents." Sirius saw red when he heard that and pushing Peter and Remus away he launched himself at James who was still sitting on the floor.

.......♡☆♡........

You were sure this time Luna was going to kill you, you were running late again. Today was her rehearsal dinner, and you were to be the maid of honor having been the one who introduced her to her fiancé, Percy, back in your Hogwarts days that now seemed so far away though it's only been two years.

You arrived and thankfully Penny had been able to cover for you with the instructions you provided just fine and after greeting a few guests you finally saw him sitting by the bar. Although you had seen him this morning before you both left for work, you couldn't help but be excited about being in his arms again.

"Excuse me for being too forward, but are you by any chance a single Miss?" You rolled your eyes at his cheeky antics but decided to play along.

"I'm afraid you've come too late Sir, my heart has been taken already and so has my hand" You say dramatically showing him your engagement ring.

"Oh really? He must be a lucky lad and very handsome obviously to be deserving of such a lady"

"Lucky indeed." At that, tired of playing games, you kissed him softly, which he quickly reciprocated. When you pulled away, you took the drink he had been previously nursing and pulled him to where dinner was about to be served. You both sat down next to Penny and her girlfriend.

"I'm just saying y/n we can only adopt so many pets before our house starts looking like a-" All of you were chatting animatedly when suddenly your fiancé stopped talking about why you shouldn't get another cat, and you felt him tense beside you. You looked at him and saw he was glaring at someone, so you followed his line of sight and saw no other than James Fleamont Potter standing there staring right back at you.

"I get what you're saying, love, but what if I just happened to stumble upon a homeless cat? I could not be so heartless as to just leave him there." You continued your conversation as if nothing happened, effectively regaining your lover's attention, leaving James Potter forgotten for now.

.......♡☆♡........

James heard your voice before he saw you, the voice that had been constantly hunting for the past two years. At first, he thought this was another one of his hallucinations until he saw you. You looked more beautiful than ever, and you were practically glowing. He couldn't help but freeze and just stare at you in pure awe. When you looked at him, he felt the air leave his body, yet he felt more alive than he had in these last two years. But you didn't even bat an eye and looked away, continuing your conversation as if nothing had happened.

James' heart dropped, you had clearly not been thinking about him the way he had been of you. He scanned the room to see if he perhaps could sit close to you, and that's when he saw him. A knot formed in James' throat as he saw him take your hand, and you smiled and looked at him the way you used to look at him back when you two were in love.

James cursed himself for arriving late, cause the only empty seat was too far away for his liking, but at least he could still watch you. He was entranced by you. He felt like he was the 17-year-old boy again, shocked to find out you liked him too. After dinner, music started playing and the soon-to-be weds invited all the couples to join them on the dance floor for a slow dance. James felt tears fill his eyes as he watched you make your way to the dance floor holding another man's hand while the biggest smile adorned your face.

.......♡☆♡........

"I cannot physically wait for this to be us." You smiled at your fiancé's words.

"I can't wait either."

"I love you y/n y/l/n"

"I love you, Sirius Black" You leaned in and kissed your fiancé while you two continued to sway to the song playing.

[hadesisqueer]

All past Avatars seem to have at least one fuckup or a regret that one or more of their next lives will have to deal with.

Szeto, quite literally, worked for the Fire Lord of his time. Although his work brought peace and prosperity to the Fire Nation, ending the conflicts that were destroying the islands, it also caused a centralization of the administration that would later allow Fire Lord Zoryu and his descendants to centralize all the power, which would end up leading to Sozin and the Hundred Year War. Since he seemed to prioritize the Fire Nation, he most likely neglected the rest of the world, too, which means that Yangchen had to step up more for international issues.

Yangchen was a highly revered Avatar to the point that she was deified; she helped the nations progress and flourish. However, focusing too much on human matters and always favoring humans, she neglected spirits. That led to Kuruk having to deal with the consequences.

Kuruk, unlike Yangchen, focused too much on Spirit World issues—to the point that it cost him his life and died very young—, seemingly neglecting human issues, causing the Peace of Yangchen's era to deteriorate very quickly. His premature death and apparent neglect led to Kyoshi having to deal with a very unstable world.

Kyoshi managed to stabilize the world during her extremely long life—in contrast to Kuruk's short life—and is remembered as a highly effective and respected Avatar. However, her big mistake and regret was the creation of the Dai Li, which would later help with the Conspiracy of Ba Sing Se, help Azula conquer the city or start kidnapping the new airbenders: overall, give Aang and Korra headaches.

Roku enjoyed relative stability at first after Kyoshi's death, though this didn't last that long; he lived through a industrial revolution and the rise of nationalism in more than one nation. He was a very diplomatic Avatar who managed to stop a war between the Northern Water Tribe and the Earth Kingdom, and became a respected Avatar. However, he was indecisive when it came to stopping his former friend Sozin, which was probably the biggest mistake and regret: it led to the genocide of a whole nation and a war that lasted a hundred years, leaving Aang to deal with it.

Aang ended the Hundred Year War and helped create a new nation where people from everywhere could leave peacefully. However, by letting Yakone live and escape prison, and failing to fully give nonbenders a voice in Republic City, caused Korra a lot of headaches with Amon and the equalists. Furthermore, another one of his biggest regrets was running away before the Air Nomad Genocide (although it was not really his fault, he was a child and an untrained Avatar and had he stayed, he probably wouldn't have been able to avoid it: he would have probably died too or been captured), and his biggest wish was to rebuild the Air Nation one day, which Korra did during her life, making up for what he thought was his biggest mistake.

Korra will probably have one of those mistakes/regrets too, and I really wonder what it'll be. We know it likely won't be neglect of neither spirituality or human issues like Yangchen or Kuruk, since she seems pretty focused on both. So far her biggest regret seems to be losing the ability to make contact with her past lives, so maybe it'll be that? The next Avatar will somehow manage to regain their connection with the rest of the past Avatars? Doesn't seem likely to me but idk. Or maybe more Red Lotus bullshit, since in the show they said that there were probably more members and Korra didn't stop them all? Idk

[ginnysgraffiti]

Paul Atreides x reader? Where the reader does not believe in the prophecy of the Lisan-al-Gaib or in any god or Messiah that they say will come, to which Paul is interested in her but also feels anger because the reader does not show fear or submission, and when inquiring about why she has no faith in anything she reads or gods is because she went through many horrible things and when she prayed for it to be a nightmare but it never happened, and that's why she believes in nothing but herself.

thanks for the request! sorry if i hadn't answered before :(

PAUL ATREIDES x yn.

your people lived on arrakis under one name: the fremen. people who have inhabited arrakis for many millennia, originally arriving after an interplanetary diaspora.

your planet became the center of immense interests of the empire following the discovery of the powerful drug called melange or spice, capable of significantly extending the length of human life and increasing.

you have been trained in guerrilla warfare since childhood, reason why you're considered among the best fighters in the universe, the only ones capable of holding your own against even the emperor's ferocious sardaukar.

people can comfortably call you interstellar nomads who follow a particular philosophy, people who live together in desert tents and who are more like a big big family or army.

therefore, you don't hide the fact that you get along very well, despite the fact that fremen have challenging, ambitious characters, and you often want to prove our superiority by fighting or calling sandworms.

if someone has already heard the famous prophecy "blessed be the creator and his water" well, that's you, these are the fremen. that's your prophecy or the thing people think you believe in. or at least, your people believe in.

you worship shai-hulud, the sand worm, a gigantic and dangerous creature that populates the deserts of arrakis and is the source of the spice cycle. your religion, like almost all those of the primitive worlds of the empire, was profoundly influenced by the bene gesserit missionaria protectiva.

if you ask stilgar, he will answer you by saying he believes in the arrival of the messiah, of the lisan al-gaib. so please, don't ask stilgar.

lisan al-gaib, in your fremen language, "the voice from the outside world".

in later use the name messiah specializes to indicate the "anointed one" par excellence, sent as a savior of the fremen, the chosen people, and to turn the desert into the green paradise it used to be. this is how stilgar would happily explain it to others.

bullshit.

the biggest lie you've ever heard.

you have waited ages for the messiah, and the only conclusion you managed to get was that even foreign people made fun of you all by saying they were the famous messiah you had been waiting for. really funny, right...

"the walker of the golden path" they say, just they don't know how much you have suffered or how different you feel about your people's adamant beliefs.

you know paul since a few weeks, and you hated every second of it, and you knew he did too.

at first you avoided him, dodged him or threatened him with your eyes as if he were an harkonnen. or, if you were in a bad mood, you ignored him completely, especially when he entertained stilgar with inappropriate and absolutely not funny jokes but that made the whole for-dinner-tent laugh.

you knew that everyone was at his feet, that they would even lick the sand he walked on.

you often heard your fremen friends talking or chatting about him, and you could have sworn some of them even wondered out loud of it would be to have sex with him.

you had never thought of paul as someone to have sex with, mostly because you hated him on principle.

for the first week you loved showing off your fighting moves when he looked, or throwing barbs at him to shut him up.

you knew that he was intimidated but also angry towards you, that he was curious about your people, and therefore you could show yourself superior anyway. you wanted to crush it like a desert fly and rejoice while it dies under your sole.

then, everything changed.

it was afternoon, and the wind was gently blowing, but not enough to make the sand rise.

he was a little too snuggled up next to you, on the highest dune you could reach from the fremen camp.

at first, you didn't even like the idea of starting a conversation, but paul was the one who talked first.

he told you about his visions first, about his nightmare correlated, about the mental torture he had to kneel upon when he used to live on caladan, because everyone thought he was the kwisatz haderach.

he told you about his training, his father's death and how he felt so alone, abandoned by the little people he loved and betrayed by the ones he barely knew.

something about it woke up a new feeling inside your chest. you felt understood.

and he was not there forcing you to go on your knees and pray the messiah and his rise to power.

he was simply chatting, his eyes almost tearing, playing with some sand in his right hand.

he wanted to understand you, to understand why you were the only one who refused to believe the prophecy and yet the only one who captured your attention.

your mind returned to the morning where a few of your friends wished to have sex with him, but right in that moment, when the sun was melting under the dunes, far away, you could only wonder how plump and soft his lips could become against yours.

that same evening, you got confirmed paul atreides was the best kisser you had ever known.

in your tent, with a slight scent of spice and body

skin and sweat, he held you close as if you were

his only lifeline, as if you were about to become

small microscopic grains of sand, and he would no longer be able to hold the right ones in his hands.

you stood there, under his slim and perfect body, stroking his curls in a slow and sleepy gesture, until he closed his eyes and let his cheek rest against your breasts.

messiah or not, you believe he was the love of your life.

[that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main]

Will you do romantic headcanons about Nod?

Romantic Nod Headcannons pt 1

✧▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬✧

Reader: Female Reader

Notes: I got you, homie.

Warnings: swearing, mad dadd finn, crazy bullshit

✧▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬✧

I feel like Childhood Friends to Lovers is very Nod.

You know he sees you as "one of the bros" first, not...kissable.

Thats on the surface at least, deep down though: and even barely pass the surface he's always known he's liked you.

He's very much been in love with you since he was young.

He's literally been through it all with you and you been through it all with him.

He knows no matter which direction either of you go; you'll always have his back.

So, it worried him: maybe he was wrong, yet it was too late, he was already waiting for you outside of work.

And when he seen you: he's never froze in front of you, and he was as stiff as a log.

Didn't help that Finn was behind you either.

*cough* your father *cough*

He just ends up quickly leaving, leaving you confused.

For sure screaming fuck in his head as he runs away.

His emotions kind of just blurted out at you.

after all you had been chasing him for three days and wasn't ready to give up on him just yet.

So, when you actually finally caught him by climbing through his room's window and managing to block all exits, he has nowhere to run.

He'll try and throw you off calling you "a creep" but that shit doesn't work; he's always climbing through your window calls it his "Special personal door to annoy you."

Basically, have to fight the answer out of him.

"You're avoiding me!"

"I am not! I'm. I'm just busy!" He argued, trying to get pass her.

"You are too!" Y/n snapped

"Am not!"

"Just tell me why!

"Why does it matter anyways!"

"Because it's hurting my feelings, Nod! What did I do!? Did I say something!? Do something!?"

He could only stare at you.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you-"

"no, No don't apologize-"

He had to cough it up now; he couldn't hurt you.

God it was so hard for him to get out; which was weird; Nod was usually pretty open to you.

Through every long pause and hard too seek out word he watched you listen with intent.

Finally, annoyed with himself he coughed it up, fully confident in his words.

"I'm in love with you," Nod told; "I've been in love with you."

It was a sigh of relief, his shoulders finally able to slack, and the air held in his chest released with his sigh.

"Nod-"

"Just, " He interrupted; causing Y/n to pause, "Just. Please- I can't help it, you do this thing! With your hair! and then it's with the eyes, and then it's- it's the way you just- It's you! you can't blame me!"

"Nod-" Y/n stopped him; hand coming to hold his bicep in a comforting notion, "Nod look at me,"

From his hand, Y/n's hand going from his bicep to his hand, "I have always loved you."

Worry slipped from the world, watching you hold his hand tightly, with a smile on your face.

He was quick to pick you up, and swing you around, you could only laugh happily as he gave you a long hard kiss on the cheek, holding your face firmly within his hands.

"You've gotta be mine," He said with excitement, she could only laugh, "Well- please be mine."

"I would love to,"

Now, as much as he knew, he wanted to just kiss you straight up on the lips he didn't.

But you did and he swears he's on cloud-nine.

He is on cloud nine actually- all day, every time he sees you.

And when you have to leave because you told your dad you'd be back before dark he's determined to take you home; but as much as we all love Finn; he's a bit more protective of you in the dating world.

Nod respects you wanting to please your dad, and he'll let you ease your dad into the idea of you dating.

"I'll see you tomorrow,"

"I don't train tomorrow,"

"Me neither, I wanna take you somewhere, I know you'll like it,"

Nod certainly never changed; he loved you, partners or not,

You agreed and he said he'd get you as soon as he could in the morning.

You rushed home quickly, you're late for dinner.

It was your father who was standing waiting for you at the door.

"Dad-"

"Don't."

Y/n was silent, "I told you to be back before dark, and it's been dark."

"I'm sorry, I rushed home as quick as I could," she apologized.

Finn could only sigh, "Where were you,"

"With Nod..."

"Well stop it,"

"What!?" Y/n asked as Finn started to walk away, "Wait that's not fair!"

She chased him into the kitchen; "Stop chasing after a boy that you can do better than." Finn ordered.

"That's not what's happening-"

"No? So, he just runs from you!? Once best friends reduced to avoidance?" Finn defended, "Bees don't explain to flies why honey is better than shit,"

"That's unfair! -"

"Enough!" Finn ordered, stopping her from speaking any further; "Clean up for dinner. Your grandmother and aunts are here,"

You only ran; Finn couldn't help but look back and hear the running of the steps up the stairs and then the slamming door above.

From then on, your relationship with your father becomes strained.

Nod realizes somethings wrong when he comes in through your window and you're lying on top your bed.

"Hey,"

"Hi."

Just the way you respond, you sound upset.

He knows you'll talk about it when you want; and carefully climbs over you to lay besides you, wiping what he thought were fresh tears away from your cheek but to realize they've been dried to your face.

He has to cheer you up; he's trying to pull you out of bed despite your protest; he sits you up and looking through your clothes to find you something comfortable.

"Come on, let's get out of here,"

"Nod, I don't want to,"

He kneeled between your legs, his hand in yours; looking up at you and asking what's wrong as he kisses your hand.

You leave it at a bad argument with your father, and he listens to ask much as you'll give him.

Luckily, he gets you out the room; hummingbird waiting.

And just like that he took off with you in front of him, his arms around you and guiding the bird along.

"Just what you'll need I promise."

he took you as high as he could into the trees, the highest tree he knew about, and landed his bird.

"Come on this way-"

Holding his hand he led you through a hole: once a home to a bird, and threw to the other side.

"And its suppose to rain today," Nod commented, "your favorite."

The branch was balding at the end, yet had leaves up top for some protection, leaving a nice view.

And he even set a little picnic out for the both of you.

Second kiss? Scored.

He's litterally planned out the whole thing.

He'll play little card games he brought up, eat with you, kiss you + a little making out

But thing that really reels you in, makes you fall so deep in love is the dancing.

He'll dance with you up on that tree branch, spin you, and dip you. Twirl you for as long as you want.

Sure, you lose track of time, but you could care less as you sit with him snuggled up.

Eventually, he'll take you home, dropping you off at your window.

He'll wanna say goodbye with a kiss, which turns into two, two to three.

He just rather not leave. And lay with you some more.

But you rather not have Finn take his head off.

Finally he truly says goodbye and leaves, you making your way back inside.

Sneaking around your father is routine now. The "Im going to bed early" and "Oh well they asked me in early" works for a while.

And in those hours, you're with Nod: dancing and kissing the hours away

He likes to train with you when you guys can

Strong = Hot in his mind

And damn are you strong

Sure at some point it goes from actually training to rolling around and laughing with one another

Always split before Finn shows up

Would really like to be public about the relationship you know go like: "Oh, this is the love of my life. Let me tell you all about her-"

But tbh he's even nervous; he sees how Finn glares at him

Tbh you hurt my child I hurt you is very Finn, especially when its someone so close

For your month anniversary, Nod surpised you with a handmade card and lunch left on your desk.

Finn had walked you in that day...ouch.

"Who's it from?" Finn questioned.

"Ooh. Didn't leave a name.." Y/n laughed nervously, "Admirers, cookoo am I right? haha..."

Admirer? Admirer his ass

Hes gonna track that bitch so hard.

Oh nods fucked.

Luckily you and Nod sneak around it: quite a bit at that too.

Finn's first suspicion is when you come back from felid work; a run in with boggins to collect medicinal herbs for your healer mentor.

Nod was pushing past crowded medics and helping soliders to get to you before Finn could.

Just the way he looked at you, and you looked at him, the way Nod checked over you, and was quick to take over as your crutch.

He was surpised when he over heard Nod instructing younger healers what to do with you, Finn couldn't help but get it more and more

"Where's my dad!"

"It's okay. It's okay, he's coming. he's coming - just take a deep breath -"

A needle going through flesh with no numbing of any kind after adrenaline wore off was....wow.

"I can't! I can't no! No no! Nod! Please!-"

"Hey! Look at me! Look at me!" Nod called, his upper body hunched over and across Y/n's, blocking what was happening below and holding her down, "I've got you! Alright? Look at me. I wouldn't let anything bad happen to you, okay?"

They were able to seal the wound

Unlike Nod they wouldn't let Finn in, and only when Y/n was brought out to make room for the next soilder was he allowed to see her.

"Dad!-"

"Baby girl!" He was quick to hug her, holding her head to his chest and holding her tight, "I was so worried."

Finn pulled away, stroking her hair down and looking over her face: "you're, okay? What happened!? Are you okay?"

You didn't even bother to answer before hugging him tightly, he hugging back.

He only took you home quickly; glancing back at Nod fairly quickly before returning to you

and your father babied you, even though mostly all you wanted from him was his lap to lay your head on.

Which he was glad to provide, fingers brushing through your baby hairs.

Family comes to visit you.

And with them is Ronin after all he's your fathers best friend, and because Nod lives with him he came too

"I was so worried." Finn told Ronin.

"I know." He answered.

The two stood in the kitchen, "I don't want her going on the field again."

Ronin was silent as a cup of tea was handed to him.

"You'll hurt her." Ronin answered, "Not allowing her back on the feild."

"Hurt her or the Leafman army?" Finn snapped, "She almost lost her life, Ronin!"

"Finn-"

"Her life, Ronin! This is my daughter!"

Y/n stayed curled up in the blanket, hearing the argueing from the other room.

"You okay?" Nod asked, he sat on the floor beside the couch, chin resting on the cushion.

"Yeah..." y/n answered.

"You'll look pretty badass with that scar." Nod commented, causing her to smile softly, but it soon faded.

"I guess we're not dancing for a while now..."

"We can do other things." Nod told.

"Like what?"

Nod chuckled, "Like what? Well... we can still talk to each other. We can still joke and tickle each other... we can kiss each other still..."

Y/n was silent.

"I know you liked the dancing a lot." Nod commented, "I did too. We'll do it again. Dont worry."

"You know... my dad used to dance with me." Y/n commented.

"Who's a better partner? Me or him?" Nod asked, causing her to laugh.

"Im not answering that." Y/n commented.

"Oh, it must be me then." Nod spoke.

Y/n chuckled softly, Nod rubbing a thumb over her cheek; "i know I couldn't ever have a better dance partner.

"I love you." Y/n told him, he smiling softly.

"I love you too."

She leaned over, kissing him softly, and he kissed her back. He raised from his bottom to his knees, allowing her to lay back as they kissed. He only pulled away for a moment to repeat the three words; I love you, before returning to kissing her softly.

Nod usually liked it when hands ran through his hair, especially hers. But the hand that raked through his hair quickly pulled him off Y/n.

"What the hell is your problem!"

"Finn!-" Ronin tried to argued.

"Dad stop!-"

"You think you can just play with my daughters feelings and then take advantage of her!" Finn snapped.

Nod was stuck on the floor on his side.

"Get out of my house!"

"Sir-"

"I said get out of my house!"

"Dad!" Y/n argued getting up, catching the couch corner to keep her up.

"Nod get up." Ronin ordered pulling him to his feet, "Come on-"

"Daddy please! Just stop!" Y/n pleaded hand on his arm, "Please he's not hurting me!"

"Y/n-"

"I said get out!" Finn shouted: "I'll fucking kill you if you touch her again!"

"Daddy Please!" Y/n begged.

Ronin pulled Nod out the living room and house. Finn and Y/n arguing in the background.

"Whats your problem!" Y/n shouted.

"Problem?! My problem!?" Finn argued, "He's kissing on you after he's played with your feelings!"

"He loves me!"

"He doesn't love you!" Finn argued, "Playing with your feelings and then hes all the sudden ontop of you?!"

"How do you know!-"

"I'm your father! I know better and you listen to me! Do you understand that!" Finn shouted back.

"And what!? End up sad and alone like you?! Chasing after a man that'll never love me!" Y/n argued, tears streaming down her face, "You are not Me, and Nod is not Ronin!"

It grew quiet between the two, and Y/n, despite her injury, was quick to move, leaving the living room and up into her room.

Finn well...he was in complete shock.

Mouth ran dry and all

It took him a moment to even get his brain working again.

He leaved you alone for the night. Its the best choice.

And despite it all.

Nod still comes to see you.

Knocked on your windowseal and everything and kinda lets himself in.

"Look Im sure your the last person you wanna see right now-"

But your hugging him quicker than you should be able to with your knee.

"I don't wanna be here, Nod..."

"I know. It'll get better." Nod told her, kissing her head and rubbing her back, "But with your leg, you're safe here. Just for now, okay?"

Y/n nodded, Nod smiled, "That's a brave girl." He wipped her tears away.

"Im sorry for the way he treated you."

"He's scared to lose you, is all."

"Still-"

"Hey really its okay." Nod reassured her, "and hey, look at the bright side. We don't have to hide anything. And when those injuries are healed, we can go screw around again. On the tree tops. Just us."

Y/n hugged him tighter, "Thank you Nod."

"Anytime."

He stays with you for a while longer

Relaxing with you laying on your bed. He just wanted to make sure you were sleeping.

And when you did fall asleep, he personally pulled the covers over you and kissed your temple.

Little did you know Nod had gotten up early the next moring and knocked on your door.

Your dad answered: exhausted, and dry of tears.

Caffine couldnt save him today.

"I told you not to come back-"

"Just. Hear me out -"

"No -" Finn argued, closing the door.

"Just!" Nod stopped him with a foot between the door and the frame, "Look I really. Really love your daughter. Like. Really... love her."

Finn stopped: "okay and?"

"She's everything to me. Like she's everything to you - so I thought we should get along."

"You played with her. You just dont seem to get that -"

"I never meant to hurt her she knows that -"

"You did, though- why is it so hard for you to understand-ignoring her then touching her - please class a act -"

"I didn't understand! She went from being my best friend to being in love with her! I didn't get it!"

"And if you don't love her? You have an empty hole, You're filling with her - get it straight Nod- Your using her!-"

"I want to marry her!" Nod snapped.

Finn was in a silent shock, "How... how long?"

"A long time now..." Nod commented: "Just please! I want-"

"How long!"

"Almost three seasons now."

"Leave my house."

"Finn, please -"

"I said Leave."

[gracies-baby]

Could you by any chance write a Gracie Abrams x female reader fan fic. The reader is younger than Gracie by a few years. She is a very famous actress. However, she is the biggest dork and very clumsy and kind of awkward but in a sweet and charming way. The reader and Gracie have to do a PR Relationship together. At first, Gracie can’t stand the reader and the reader is like a kicked puppy because Gracie is always annoyed of the reader who is kinda dumb and oblivious. But then Gracie can’t help but turn soft for her.

PR Relationship

(Gracie Abrams x Reader)

——————————————————————————

"What? No!" Gracie exclaims as she stares at her manager.

"You don't get a choice. Your new albums coming out, it's good for publicity" Her manager replies, glaring at the girl.

"I'm not gonna pretend to be in a relationship with some obnoxious, golden retriever girl" Gracie sighs in annoyance.

"Gracie, she's one of the most popular actresses right now. This will be incredible for your popularity"

"..fine. But I'm not gonna be happy about it" Gracie replies with a groan.

"I didn't expect you to. I do expect you to be nice to her. She's really sweet and it wasn't her idea" her manager replies before calling Y/n and her manager into the room.

"Hi! I'm Y/n. It's so nice to meet you!" Y/n holds her hand out to the brunette with a polite smile.

"Yeah. Hi" Gracie ignores her hand as they all sit at the table causing a slight frown to appear on the shorter girls face.

"Alright. Here's the contract, if you can both sign here please. It will be a year long and after that everyone can go their seperate ways" Y/n's manager says as she places the piece of paper in front of them.

"Your first date will be tomorrow at a coffee shop. Make it believable please" Gracie's manager tells them as they both sign the papers.

"So.. I'm guessing you're not happy about this?" Y/n asks the brunette when their managers leave the room.

"Good guess. Why would I be happy about being forced to be in a relationship with someone I've never even met? No offence, but joy happy girls aren't really my type" Gracie replies as she glares at the girl, watching as a frown appears on her face.

"Oh, well it's not a real relationship. We can at least try to be friends, right? I mean, we're kinda stuck together for a year"

"I have no interest in being your friend" Gracie replies, walking out of the room and slamming the door behind her.

—

"Gracie! Y/n! Are you guys together?"

"When did your relationship start?"

"Gracie, have you written any songs about Y/n?"

The two girls avoid the paparazzi as they enter the coffee shop before ordering their drinks and sitting at their table.

"You don't talk much do you?" Y/n asks as she takes a drink from her cup.

"I talk a lot actually. To people I like" Gracie replies as she looks away from the girl.

"Oh.. sorry" Y/n mumbles with a frown as she hides her face in her cup causing the brunette to feel slightly guilty.

"This whole situation is bullshit. I don't wanna pretend to be in a relationship with someone that definitely isn't my type" Gracie continues without being able to stop.

"Yeah. But it could be worse, right? I mean, I'm not that bad" Y/n replies only for it to come out as more of a question. Gracie only stares at her before drinking her coffee. The brunette leaves the coffee shop as Y/n quickly follows her, leaving some money on the table.

"You don't need to follow me. The dates over" Gracie grumbles as she walks down the street.

"Right. Sorry" Y/n mumbles before walking the opposite direction, leaving Gracie with a disappointed feeling in her stomach.

"Wait. Sorry. I just hate PR relationships. I'd rather have something real" Gracie says as she grabs the shorter girls wrist before pulling her hand away quickly.

"Yeah, I understand that. But we can at least try to be friends, right?" Y/n replies as she smiles at the brunette.

"Yeah, let's try" Gracie responds hesitantly causing a wide grin to appear on the shorter girls face.

—

Singer Gracie Abrams seen holding hands with actress Y/n L/n at local coffee shop! Is a new romance brewing?

Literally the best power couple!

The couple I didn't know I needed

This is gonna last they're literally so cute 😭

"Everyone loves your new relationship. How do you feel about it?"Audrey asks her best friend as she reads her the comments on the article.

"You know how I feel about it. It's such bullshit. I shouldn't have to pretend to be in a relationship" Gracie mumbles as she gets a glass of water.

"So you're saying you want a real relationship? With Y/n?" Audrey teases with a wide grin.

"Yeah- what? No!" Gracie exclaims with a bright red blush across her cheeks.

"So you're telling me you're not attracted to her at all? You don't think the sunshine girls cute at all?" Audrey teases with a knowing smile.

"Of course not. I mean, she's pretty good to look at and she's really nice I guess.."

"Dude it sounds like you like her. Maybe that's why you're so pissed off about his PR thing. You want a real relationship with her"

"It doesn't matter. She probably hates me now anyway. I was such a bitch to her" Gracie groans as she runs her hands down her face.

"Just ask her out. At least then you'll know if she likes you or not"

"I can't do that! We still have so long of our contract left. It would get so awkward if she says no" Gracie exclaims.

"Yeah but if she says yes then you can be in a happy relationship" Audrey replies before leaving Gracie to sort out her thoughts.

—

"Y/n? Can I talk to you about something?" Gracie asks nervously as she stands at her fake girlfriend's door.

"Of course! What's up?" Y/n asks with a wide smile as she lets the brunette into her house.

"You know how we're doing this fake dating this?" Gracie says as she fiddles with her fingers.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, what if it wasn't fake?"

"Gracie, what are you talking about?" Y/n asks with a clueless look on her face.

"I mean, what if it was real?"

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Y/n asks with a hopeful expression.

"Y/n I want you to be my girlfriend for real" Gracie asks as she makes eye contact with the shorter girl.

"Gracie are you serious? Please don't be joking because that would be so fucking mean I would never speak to you again"

"I'm not joking. I wanna be with you. Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?" Gracie asks as she takes the girls hand in hers.

"Yes! Of course I wanna be your girlfriend you idiot!" Y/n replies as she wraps the brunette in a tight hug causing Gracie to return it.

—

"Well, this is much better than you hating her I guess" Gracie's manager says after walking in on them making out for the sixth time causing the two girls to begin blushing.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for yelling at my mom because of incense?💭

( emoji so I can recognise my submission and this is a hella long post so be warned)

So I (16F) really hate smoke. And I mean beyond the regular hate, I mean like the moment I smell smoke I instantly become very, very angry. I'm not sure why exactly, I suspect it might be because I'm on the autism spectrum but I haven't been officially diagnosed so take this with a grain of salt. Also just to clarify, I have no lung issues which would cause me to be extra effected by smoke, it's almost entirely psychological.

My mom (50F) got into this whole spiritual circle stuff about a year ago and does meditation thingies. Involves a lot of rituals, crystals and incense. Not entirely sure the exact reason why but the important thing is this means she is lighting incense almost everyday. As a result, on most days the house smells like smoke. I have told her quite a few times to ventilate properly if she's going to use it but I feel like every time I enter the main room of the house it smells like smoke. However I can manage this by simply shutting my door to avoid getting a lungful of smoke. No, the thing that pisses me off are her "cleansing sessions." This is where she goes through the house waving an incense stick everywhere to "purify the bad spirits." This means I have absolutely nowhere in the house to escape from the smoke and often get forced outside to escape. I have tolerated these "cleansing sessions" a few times but on the most recent one, it happened to be raining extremely heavily. This meant that I was stuck. In a house FILLED with the smell of smoke.

I tried to keep myself calm for a while by ventilating the smoke from under a blanket but even then I could still smell it and it made me raging mad. So I then proceeded to stomp up to my mom and yelled at her. I said some very nasty things which I'm not proud of saying. They were very personal insults mostly pertaining to how her beliefs were bullshit and about her insecurities. We had a shouting match over it which ended in her telling me to go back to my room.

Why I think I could be the asshole here is because:

A. I could have more clearly stated beforehand that I wanted her to stop cleansing my room or at the very least she needs to turn the aircon on when she burns incense.

B. She didn't really deserve the things I said to her. She's a sensitive person and I know it probably deeply hurt her even if she didn't act like it in the moment.

C. I didn't mention it earlier but I have a brother (17M) who has athsma. He has never had any problem breathing or any complaints about my mom burning incense. If anyone would be affected by this the most it would be him and yet he doesn't care. So I feel like I just really overreacted.

Why I think I might not be the asshole here is because:

A. I have asked her before that she ventilate the house properly when she does her meditations and yet every time I can smell it. Sometimes she wont even open the windows so I have to do it myself.

B. She knows how much I dislike the smell of smoke. I have said multiple times how I hate it and every time I have smelt it in the house I've been very obviously annoyed. There was even once incident where our neighbours were having a bonfire and I literally could not sleep in my room because I could smell smoke and had to sleep on the couch. Every time she's done one of these "spiritual cleansings" I have also made it abundantly clear how much I hate this but she doesn't seem to care because it usually forces me outside.

C. As before mentioned, my brother has athsma. While it may not seem like it bothers him I don't know what the long term consequences may be for his lungs. And for my lungs too! Like, I'm not an expert but I don't think regularly breathing in smoke is very good for you. She argues it's "real natural smoke" so it's fine and I told her she should try breathing near a wildfire to see how she liked "real natural smoke."

Anyways, with all these facts considered, random strangers on the internet, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[lajulie24]

Before the dark times, before the Empire

Part 2 of a series of ficlets/drabbles featuring Han and Leia in different AU scenarios. Written for Han/Leia Appreciation Week 2024 ( @hanleiacelebration ) Day 3 - AU/Canon divergence.

Thanks to Force shenanigans, a post-ROTJ Leia and Han are thrown back to a few months before the start of the Clone Wars. They want to prevent the Empire, but they have a few other things on their bucket list (non-bucket list?) as well.

“I am going to murder Luke,” Han said, gritting his teeth as he carefully positioned one of Leia’s hairpins in the lock, feeling it nearly click into place, then slip at the last moment. “Damnit.”

“Oh, good,” Leia responded, her blaster still covering Han. There were no guards here currently, and she didn’t really expect them, but one could never be too careful. “I was planning to do it, but I’m afraid it might turn me into a Sith, so probably better if you take care of it.”

She gestured toward the lock. “You want me to give it a go?”

“Sure.” He handed back the hairpin and traded places with her.

“Don’t shoot any Alderaanians,” she warned.

“It’s set to stun.”

Two minutes later, the lock clicked open, and Leia did a little gesture of triumph.

“You may have missed your calling as a thief, Sweetheart,” Han said as they quietly made their way inside.

Leia shrugged. “I was good at breaking my way out of places like this as a kid. Not too hard to just reverse the process.”

Leia led them through the back passage, then up the staircase, the hidden one, and paused before opening the door at the top. Checking something with the Force, she had explained to him earlier, after doing something similar.

If he had to get thrown back into this time, at least it was with Leia, and at least she’d managed to get at least some Force training before all of…this.

She nodded at him, and he gingerly opened the door. This room seemed like an odd place to store your extra credits, but Leia swore that chances were good they’d locate at least enough to have some kind of Republic-era currency to work with. Then they could find Luke (who was on Tatooine again, evidently), prevent his grandmother from being murdered by Tuskens if possible, and plan how to overthrow the Empire before it began.

Maybe he shouldn’t murder Luke right away for getting them embroiled in Force bullshit. Until they’d finished their bucket list (non-bucket list?) at least. If they lived through all their other plans, he was insisting on a trip to Corellia.

But they had to avoid getting arrested for breaking into the Alderaanian embassy on Coruscant first.

[around1302]

YOU WROTE ME

SPARE PARTS: blurb 1/1

THE TROUBADOUR, LONDON

(W) strong language, alcohol use, brief smut: if u can call it that

THIRD PERSON’S POV

9 MONTHS POST-SPLIT

“Why can’t you just trust that it’ll be fun?”

“Because you don’t even know who’s playing! What if it’s some screamo guy and I get traumatised.”

“Please, Charlie, you’ve met my friend. You think he’s going to guitar for a screamo guy?”

Charlie pauses, remembering everything she can from the brief meeting between her and Becca’s friend at her house party last week.

“Yes. Yes I do.”

Becca rolls her eyes, nodding in gratitude at the bouncers who let them into the Troubadour, past the lines and lines of people. Charlie has to admit that’s promising, at least. Surely a hundred teenage girls wouldn’t be queueing for something unworthwhile.

“I thought as a musician you’d be buzzing for a free invite to the Troub!”

Charlie’s turn to roll her eyes, now.

“The Troub?”

“Let me pretend I’m in on the lingo, too.”

“God, you’re just making it worse.”

Becca is Charlie’s only remaining friend from her pre-band days. In contact far too little, but enough to see each other in between schedules. Becca manages a restaurant in London, and throws killer house parties every Saturday. It’s ritual.

Of course, with band life, Charlie barely ever attended. But since the split and a (much too long) nine month hiatus from the industry, she’s had a little more time for living her 20s like she never entered that competition in the first place.

“You want a drink?” Becca shouts over the already loud crowd. Just as Charlie opens her mouth to answer, her forearm’s gripped so tightly she’s sure the blood supply’s been cut off.

“Oh my God! Charlie Greene?” A girl practically screams in her face, holding the hand that isn’t keeping Charlie there in a death grip over her mouth.

Despite her usually extreme routine when it comes to being avoided in public, Charlie assumed tonight could be a one off. Who would recognise her in this crowd, in this venue? Panic strickens her before Becca has to step in, shoving the girls palm off.

“Dude, don’t touch strangers like that.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just such a huge fan. I can’t believe you’re here! We all thought they were just rumours.”

“What?” Charlie’s dumbfound, forgetting all that media-trained ‘smile at the fans, don’t let them know you want to punch them’ bullshit.

“You know, you and–”

“Look, I’m sure you’re a nice kid, but we’re just trying to enjoy our night. You want me to buy you some alcohol to get you to go away?”

“Becca–”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, of course. E-enjoy your night.”

The poor girl scurries away, screaming something to her group but Charlie’s too riddled with guilt to hear what.

“For fuck’s sake, Becs, she’s like sixteen!”

“Gripped you like a forty year old WWE champ though, look at your arm!”

Charlie glances down, noticing the white and red splotches beneath the hazy blue lights. Becca has a point, even if she was a little harsh about it.

“Screw the drinks, let’s just get backstage before anyone else tries to cut off your circulation.”

Nodding, Charlie follows Becca through the crowd, making sure to keep her head down this time. Of course they’re asked for IDs and stage passes before getting through, Becca proudly letting security know they’re friends of the guitarist.

“I’m so proud of Mitch, man. He’s come so far. Can you believe he used to work in a pizza shop?”

“I know, it’s impressive shit,” Charlie nods, hugging her hoodie tight to her chest. Something bad swirls in her gut as she watches the audience from the safety of a thick curtain, seeing whispers and screams shared.

“You don’t think that’s about me, do you?” She points for Becca. Becca scoffs.

“Nah, don’t get too up your own ass, Char. The act’s probably about to come on.”

The band will be entering from stage left, opposite to them both. Charlie has to admit she’s curious. It’s been forever since she’s attended any kind of underground gig, it’s exciting – what music’s really about.

“Gemma Styles.”

Until that moment.

Ears ringing, throat drying, sweat forming. Charlie grips her hoodie so tight her knuckles blanch – she’s wrong, she has to be. It’s just her mind and anxiety playing tricks on her. It’d be impossible for–

“No way, Charlie?”

“Fuck.”

“… Charlie?”

“I mean hi! Sorry, hi!”

Pretending her ears aren’t still painfully ringing, Charlie accepts the open arms of the woman in front of her. Specifically, the sister in front of her. Her ears stop buzzing enough for her to hear Becca’s gasp beside her, and enough to hear her heart coming up through her throat.

“I can’t believe you’re here, it’s so good to see you!”

The one thing Charlie never understood was how Harry could be so intolerable and Gemma could be so… Gemma. Despite the ugliest truth she’s discovered in a while coming undone, she feels somewhat comforted by her hug and her words and her smile.

Perhaps they’re all a little too alike Harry, or perhaps the opposite. She can’t tell. There’s a lot happening.

“Yeah, um…” at a complete loss for words, Becca quickly steps in.

“Hi, I’m Rebecca. Friends with the guitarist.”

“Oh, Mitch! Isn’t he amazing? I’m Gemma, Harry’s sister.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry.”

Charlie shoots Becca a pointed glare. She apologises again, a little more sincerely this time.

“So does Harry know you’re here? Bet he’s thrilled, are the others here?”

“Um, no. And no. Not that I know of. I’m actually here for Mitch, too.”

“Oh, I–” Gemma frowns, understandably confused, but is cut off by the house lights dimming and some opening music starting.

Charlie pinches at her arm beneath the once soft material, it only now feels scratchy and too thick. Should she run? It seems like her only viable option. Except her feet are failing her and it’s too fucking late because–

“Hi everyone! I’m Harry, it’s a pleasure. This is my wonderful band, and we’re going to play a few songs for you. Starting with a new one, this is Complicated Freak.”

Frozen to her place, Charlie listened harbouring feelings she couldn’t quite place. Part of her wishes she had just done those few shots before she left like Becca had quite smartly suggested, but a larger part of her wishes she never came.

Because fuck, has she missed him.

She’s missed his voice, and his hands, and his eyes, and his dimples, and she could say she’s missed his hair but that’s gone with the last nine months. She missed watching him concentrate entirely too hard on playing the guitar and she missed watching that crease form between his brows as he closes his eyes and just feels the music. His music.

The music that sounds eerily familiar. Then suddenly flashes of a tour bus come to mind; long hair and slender fingers strumming a guitar. Lyrics that rendered a little to close to home but were promptly ignored at the time now echo the venue, echo her chest.

“Thank you so, so much everyone. I’ll see you soon!”

Harry lifts his palm to the roaring crowd, intimate and small yet still as deafeningly loud as she remembers them always being for him. Begging for an encore, or at the very least one more wave.

But it’s only then that she realises, still stuck to the floor, that he’s taking his guitar off. He’s offering the audience one final bow and kiss, and he’s turning, and he’s walking, and he’s grinning ear to ear and accepting his friends and family’s congratulations, and then he’s stopping, and he’s staring, and his lungs have stopped and his heart has faltered and–

“You wrote me.”

His lips quiver, paused in an effort to say the right thing. Say anything.

“Yeah, I…”

It’s as if the venue and people around them grew wings and flew away as time itself stopped just for them. The first time they had seen eye to eye in the time you could grow a whole fucking baby for God’s sake – and yet they could barely speak. So much unsaid, it’s almost too much. What do you start to say to the love of your life – who you lost?

Luckily, the people around them didn’t actually grow wings.

“We’ll see you later, H,” his older sister squeezes his dead arm, nodding towards Charlie (as if she saw) and then the other confused onlookers who had developed behind them during the show but fuck if Charlie noticed.

Gemma leads the group out, leaving the pair of them in a silent standoff, the muted sound of a dying crowd and crew starting to clean punctuating the quiet.

“Drink?”

“I wanted to call you so many times.” Charlie finally admits, three double vodkas deep.

“Why didn’t you?” Harry almost whispers four whiskeys in.

Malibu’s, their old, usual haunt, has been avoided for the last nine months. Not a single band member dared to go, whether it be that Zayn no longer bartends there or that they were afraid of memories. But it felt like the only place for them to be right now. Elbows leant on the same sticky counter, knees pressed together in their tipsy mis-care, no time passed yet the whole world between them.

“I was scared.” Charlie begins. “I needed time, and after I realised that you leaving us didn’t really matter in the end, I was too late.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Harry. I saw the tabloids. A month after we split you were seen with this person, that person. You had moved on from us, from me.”

Her confession is startlingly sobering, and Harry can’t help but gulp down a painful lump at the way her eyes water. Harry hadn’t moved on in any sense of the word, Harry was simply trying to find Charlie in anyone he could. The way in which he had coped with his web of feelings for the woman for the past six and a half years.

“I could never move on from you, Char. I was just… lost.”

Charlie snorts, turning to down the rest of her drink.

“Baby I–”

They both freeze. Harry didn’t mean to call her that, but God, doesn’t it feel natural? Isn’t that why it slipped out in the first place? Yet, a slap in the face would have felt better for Charlie. The vodka gets caught in her throat, the once warm liquor running ice cold down her chest.

She turns, her heart melting at the sight of his face. It’s that same heartbreaking, broken concoction of regret and worry knitting his brows and dripping from his eyes. And it has her lips hungrily on his.

He catches her, grabbing her hips as he opens his legs for her and draws her to his chest, breathing in every inch of her. Because that’s what kissing Charlie is like. Oxygen for the first time, water for the first time, life for the first time. His rough hands snake up her back, grip her sides, pinch her skin. Her nails rake at the nape of his neck, muscle memory expecting locks to hold onto but finding short curls as their home instead.

Their tongues and lips work in an unspoken agreement, all the way to her new apartment by the bar, all the way to her bed.

They didn’t speak. They were both far too terrified to lose this moment. They just needed each other, the touch they’d both been desperately chasing for months. Charlie closes her eyes as Harry’s mouth starts its attack on her neck and is transported to Louis’ apartment, where she first felt that same desperation.

“Please.” She breathes, wrapping her legs around his hips, eliciting from him a muffled groan as she grinds up towards him. He nods into her neck, his lips still working down her soft skin. She still tastes the same, that strawberry vanilla he could drink by the gallon.

Charlie claws at his back, making an attempt to remove his black button-up as he moves down her body. She just about manages it as he settles between her legs, pushing up her denim dress without grace or care before biting the edge of her knickers.

The heels of her feet press into his toned back, her palms already fisting the sheets as he harshly grips her hips to push her back into the mattress.

A million thoughts run through Harry’s head, but fear holds him back from saying a single one of them. Months ago, he would’ve told Charlie everything. How good her thighs feel, how fucking pretty she looks laying there, needy for him. How much her soft little pants sound like she should be begging for him, how hard he is for her like this.

But he can’t. For all he knows, he’s simply a mouth right now. He’s not Harry, he’s just something she needs, and fuck if he’ll be whatever she needs.

So he bites into her inner thigh, sucking away the sharpness as she grips and tugs at his hair. He moans into her skin, eyelashes fluttering against her hips as he kisses the top of her pubic bone. His touch is rough in every place but his lips as he makes a path to her core, pressing teasing kisses over her clit. Her knickers are fucking soaked through, and the sight alone is enough to send him berserk.

“Charlie, I’m gonna have to–”

“Please, just–”

With that sliver of permission, he reaches down, squeezing himself over his trousers. The slightly relieved pressure has him gasping against her lace, which quickly becomes wetter. Charlie sits up on her elbows, watching Harry touch and squeeze while he continues to tease her.

And it’s there. In between the need and the pleasure, Charlie begins to cry. Softly, quietly, but enough to garner Harry’s distracted attention.

“Hey, hey,” Harry moves back up her body, tugging her dress back into place as he squeezes her hip, “I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s fine.” Charlie’s voice cracks as her head hits the pillow, hot tears quickly meeting her hairline before she can wipe them away.

“Sweetheart–”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart.” Charlie murmurs between gritted teeth, sending Harry aback. He sits up on his heels, his touch slowly leaving her. Charlie presses her palms into her eyes, squeezing the tears out as she muffles sobs against her hands.

“That’s the problem.”

It’s hardly above a whisper, but Harry hears every last syllable. Leaning back over her, he removes her fists, gently brushing her blotchy cheeks.

“I’m just drunk and emotional and weird and–”

“Stop it,” Harry murmurs, pulling her up to sit in front of him. “Tell me what you’re feeling.” When she doesn’t budge, he drops his head and whispers, “please.”

Charlie finds his eye. In so many ways, he’s unchanged. He still looks at her like that, and it crumbles her, just as easily as it did all those months ago.

“Everything got so fucked up, Harry. The band, me, us. I haven’t sang a chord in months. I see the guys, what, once, twice a month? And you…”

“It’s my fault, Char.” Harry sighs, collapsing beside her, rubbing his face. “I left, I split everyone up–”

“You needed to.” She interrupts, stern. “I didn’t realise at the time, it took me a while to accept it, but you needed to. Niall was starting a family, everyone was starting to burn out, even if we didn’t want to admit it.”

“You did the right thing.”

Those fives words are all that Harry’s wanted to hear for nine months. He’s spent countless, sleepless nights wondering if he’d messed everything up for everyone, forever. If in his selfishness he’d forgotten to use logic.

“I’m just not sure I did.”

Harry frowns, turning to look at Charlie.

“What do you mean, Charlie?”

“I worry that I was… hasty. Rash.”

Harry can’t help the small smile that starts to tug at his lips. He lifts his knees and rests his chin on his palm to hide it.

“I did a really messed up thing, you were justified.”

“No.” Charlie sighs, looking at the ceiling. “I was right to be mad, but I wasn’t right to have said all the stuff I did. I was especially not right to leave you.”

Harry’s chest jumps, but he tries to calm his excited heart before Charlie can finish. When it comes to her, there’s no real predictability. She might be about to destroy him all over again.

“Those six years mean more to me than anything I’ve done in my entire life. You were there through everything, every shitty and amazing thing, all I can think about is flashes of you. My sister, my audition, my first heartbreak, my first– I could go on and on, but the point is, you were there.”

“Even if you annoyed the shit out of me for the better part of it, you’re my life, Harry. I was stupid to think I could ever live it in the same way without you.”

It’s impossible to fight his grin, now.

Charlie finally turns to face him, instantly rolling her eyes at the sight of him. His entirely too wide smile, his glinting eyes and how they quickly flit to her lips, the twitch between his brows that lets her know he’s holding back a comment.

And despite his speechlessness, his answer is obvious.

“You sure you don’t want someone easier?” Charlie lilts, swaying into him.

“Why on Earth would I want anyone else?”

“I don’t know. I yell at you a lot.”

“I’d rather have you hate my guts than have anyone else.” Harry takes her waist, easing her beneath him again as he hovers over her. “I’ve spent my entire life waiting to hear you say that, you know.”

“Entire life is a bit dramatic.” Charlie drapes her arms around his neck, her fingers finding his nape. That hair is going to take some getting used to.

“Nope,” Harry pops his P, leaning down to press a kiss to her jaw. “You’re my life too, Char.”

She leans back into the pillow, her thumb circling his neck. “You mean it?”

It’s Harry’s turn to roll his eyes, now.

“You really have to ask? What more could I possibly do to prove to you that you’re it for me, you always have been.”

Charlie smirks. “I could think of something.”

“Always thinking with your dick, Greene.”

Charlie lets out a scoff, and Harry let’s his chest do whatever it wants.

@lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily @sirtommyholland @tpwksm @b-reads-things @tiaamberxx @daphnesutton @mleestiles

[punkassfrance]

Light Of Day - Part II - Tess/Fem!Reader

This chapter is explicit! MDNI! In which Tess' actions come back to haunt her. This work contains drinking, oral sex, and general criminality. ~3.3k words. Part I

She wallows for a while after that.

Well, not all that much changes. She’s hesitant to leave her apartment even without the humiliation of being caught—even though nobody was around to see what had happened, it was bad enough for just her to see. She doesn’t even consider whatever punk tried to attack that night—if he knows who she is, he knows not to fuck with her. No, he doesn’t matter, but her girl saw what happened. Damn it all. She’ll probably have to stop calling her that, too.

She switches to the small stock of instant coffee she keeps for special occasions, just for the week. There’s still a healthy splash of booze in the mug, naturally. Some things just don’t change.

There’s a chance what happened hasn’t been spread. Her girl doesn’t have much in the way of friends, after all—she knows that much. There’s a chance her dignity is more or less intact, her reputation untouched. Still, she can’t quite bring herself to check.

The kid across the hallway takes her cards and brings back rations. He skims a little off the top every time, butshe doesn’t kick up a fuss about it. Just writes it off as a delivery fee, or a tip, or even charity from what she knows of the kid’s family. She has enough to spare anyway. If she wanted, Tess could hide away for at least a year without selling a damn thing.

He should be back in an hour or so, as she thinks of it. Time kind of blends together when she does this- hides away from the world, watches through her little window. She’s seen her girl enter and exit the market a few times now, glancing around nervously as she should, but never looking up. Never up, thank god.

There’s a knock at her door.

She didn’t think the kid would be back with groceries so soon. He usually takes his time to avoid drawing attention. She doesn’t care one way or another, of course. As long as she gets what she paid for. “Give me a second, kiddo.”

She sets her coffee down on the countertop and reaches for a pair of basketball shorts on the couch, tugging them on before she gets the door. As much as she loves lounging around in her underwear, the poor kid doesn’t need to see that.

Clutching a lead pipe in her free hand just in case, she opens the door with a blank expression.

It’s frozen on her face when she sees her girl standing before her, shuffling her feet and pressing her lips together.

Neither of them speak, for a moment.Tess blinks, mouth falling just slightly open as she processes what’s before her. The girl looked up when the door opened, watching Tess from under her eyelashes as they took in each other’s presence.

It’s tempting to just close the door- just walk away from this situation with what’s left of her dignity, avoid confronting her childish bullshit for as long as possible.

That’s exactly what it is, isn’t it? Childish. She grimaces as the situation sets in, eyes darting around looking for some way to escape without making an even bigger mess of the situation.

“Took a lot of cards to find you,” the girl mutters after a long moment, mouth twisted up to the side as she watches the floor, like she knows exactly what Tess is thinking. If Tess manages to get out of this and they had nothing else to discuss, she would at least have to find out who talked.

“...that’s intentional.” She’s gone to great lengths to hide away from the world, to make herself a hard woman to find. Anyone looking to find her would have to look pretty damn hard, especially with the mere strands of information the girl would have had.

Before she can think about it, she steps back and holds the door open, eyes glued to the ground. The girl steps inside, glancing around, anywhere but at Tess. Once the door shuts, she doesn’t immediately lunge or reach for a weapon. It’s not much, but it’s slightly reassuring. Tess leans the pipe up against the doorframe and crosses her arms.

“...you’re Tess.”

It’s not a question, but Tess nods anyway.

“I guess I should thank you for saving me. And for all the, ah…” she trails off as she turns to face Tess, carefully looking up to meet her eye. Tess nods.

Now that the secret’s out, she realizes how creepy this probably is. It started out innocent enough; she just wanted to offer something to add a little light to the girl’s day, let her know someone…

“I can stop.”

She doesn’t get a response to that, only silence as she looks around the apartment. The sun is in her chair by now—if she didn’t have a guest, she’d be sitting there, sans shorts, finishing off her coffee, basking in the sun. She doesn’t stop the girl from meandering over to the window, leaning over the chair and catching a glimpse of the market view. Looking back up to Tess, she scuffs the ground with her boot.

“...what do you want from me?”

“What do you want from me?” Tess can’t help herself from snapping just a bit, crossing her arms. “You haven’t humiliated me enough?”

“Humiliated you?” She raises an eyebrow, glancing up at the ceiling as she thinks. “If I remember right, all I did was open the door. If you’re embarrassed, that’s not on me.”

They’re both silent again, each of them back to avoiding eye contact.

“What do you want from me? If you’re trying to pay me for something, I don’t know what it is. I can’t offer you anything.” Her eyes widen, hands raised.

Oh.

She hasn’t made her intentions clear. Here’s a chance to correct that—or a chance to back out. Before she can decide what to do with the misunderstanding, she can’t help herself.

“You think I’m trying to pay you?”

The girl looks lost and exasperated as her theory falls apart, and goes back to looking around once again. Still, she doesn’t try to attack. Tess stays rooted to the ground.

“...why else would you give me shit?”

She stares at the girl, taking in the first real look at her face. It’s not obscured by a window, a hood, weather, or the corner of her own eye as she tries to be coy. Her usual silence, easily mistaken for shyness, has been replaced with distress. Tess should have known the anomaly of a random gift would have set her on edge. But those thoughts are far off, on the back burner of her mind. Christ, she’s a vision.

The look on her face must betray her as realization dawns.

“I’ll stop.” Tess mumbles, gritting her teeth.

“You-”

Tess jerks open the door beside her, stepping aside and watching the ground, furious with herself as her face heats up. “I’ll stop.”

That would be the end of it, then. Tess would sell off her box of gifts, respectfully look away when the girl entered the market, and never know her middle name or how she liked her coffee. She would likely never know those things anyway, but it was a nice fantasy to hold on to while she had it. It felt ridiculous, sure, but it was easy enough to justify- everyone needs a thought to fall asleep to, right? Some small comfort in a world of terrors? There was no harm in it. And now it’s over.

A soft hand rests on the wooden door, pushing it shut. Tess can’t bring herself to look up.

“Is it Tessa?”

Tess looks up, eyebrow raised. She’s watching, lips pressed together as she waits for an answer.

“Theresa.” The few girlfriends she’s had over the years called her Tessa on occasion, but that doesn’t feel like what she’s asking.

“Theresa,” the girl repeats, giving her a slow once-over. She doesn’t look nearly as confused as she did just moments ago. Meanwhile, Tess is sure she’s lost the plot. Her brow knits together, lip slightly curled, as she tries to figure out what exactly the girl is getting at. “From what I’ve heard, you’re not exactly shy. Did you just…not want to talk to me?”

“I…” She’s not sure how to explain herself. She never really questioned what she was doing or felt the need to justify herself. She thought nobody would ever ask why. Why would they? Her head shakes vacantly, still denying the situation. “I’ll stop.”

“I didn’t ask you to stop.” She steps forward, silently coercing Tess away from the door. Tess lets the girl herd her a few feet back into the apartment, curious to see where this is going. “Asked why you didn’t just talk to me.”

One hand comes up to Tess’ shoulder, guiding her up against the wall. She lets it happen.

“Didn’t want to scare you off.”

“You think you’re scary?”

Her immediate instinct is of course. It feels like a stupid question—she fucking runs Boston on reputation alone by now, men twice her size have nightmares about her, even Joel caves to her.

But her girl might not know about all of that.

To her, Tess is just a mystery. Some random, anonymous older woman with a very strange way of flirting. Some part of her demands a rabid correction—I think I’m fucking terrifying. You should too. But if this goes her way, if she really has a shot with this girl… that might not be the first impression she wants to make. The whole reason she put herself through these hoops was to avoid scaring her. Why come all this way just to blow it when she’s so close? So close to…something.

“I think people are scared of me.”

The girl tilts her head, reaching up to push a few strands of hair out of Tess’ face. Her cool fingers skim over the freckles on Tess’ cheek, the first kind touch she’s received since her last fling wanted more than she could give. She melts at it more than she’ll admit, looking down at the hand in the corner of her eye. The feeling in her chest is almost forgotten, but not fully lost. Defrosting.

She takes Tess’ hands in her own, running her thumbs over the marred skin, and pulls them forward. Tess stays stubbornly pressed against the wall as her hands are brought to rest on the girl’s waist, flesh giving way as she curls her fingers on instinct.

“I think you’re scared.” She’s close to a whisper as her arms loop around Tess’ neck, pulling them together. As though she didn’t just throw out an accusation that could easily get Tess killed.

Maybe she meant it as a challenge, maybe she didn’t. Regardless of what she hoped to accomplish, all it does is make something coil tight in Tess’ chest.

She breaks.

The girl’s lips are so soft. She’s pictured this many times, while falling asleep, zoning out on a shift, listening to the rain on her window. Despite the corner she’s backed Tess into, she’s modest with her affection, both of them getting a sense of the other before they move forward. As the girl sinks into her, her hesitations fizzle out as if they never existed at all. Tess’ arms wrap around the girl’s waist, one supporting her upper back as she pushes off from the wall. Her girl arches the small of her back, hips pressing into Tess as they stumble together to the couch.

Her girl isn’t exactly shy, but Tess doesn’t hold back. It’s not long before they’re kissing like this isn’t their first time—like they’ve been together for months, years even, like this is just one of many nights with each other. Like they’ll have all the time in the world to do it again, and again, and again.

A hand teases at the edge of Tess’ tank top- she lets the girl wander, lets her explore the skin beneath with a mild hand, but she pulls away for only a moment to mutter, “Leave it on.” If this is her only shot, she’s not about to waste it on her own pleasure.

Once Tess has laid her on the futon, she raises her arms, spread out for Tess like she’s not scared in the slightest. Like she carries no regard for the cross of a reputation Tess bears—like she’s trustworthy.

“My name-”

“I know your name.”

Tess cuts her off, kissing across her collarbones as she chuckles. “Bit of a stalker, huh?”

Looking up from under her eyelashes, Tess shrugs impassively, tugging the girl’s shirt off and onto the floor. The fabric is worn and thin, soft under Tess’ hands.

“Just… took an interest.”

“Should I be nervous?” The girl smirks, undoing the button on her jeans with one hand, stroking Tess’ hair with the other.

“Oh, very.” Tess nips at the supple skin of her breast, leaving behind a barely noticeable mark. Her knee nestles up between the girl’s legs, something firm for her to grind down on. She takes advantage, eyes flickering shut as she exhales. It’s the first visible sign of pleasure Tess has pulled from her, and she quickly remembers how enticing the feeling of success is. So quickly it grows on her, sidles up alongside her veins, making itself at home with her desire. It’s almost parasitic, something new and demanding inside her that will never part.

Her girl pulls away before long, giving Tess the chance to tug her jeans off and push them aside. She takes a moment to admire what she sees before moving on; gray cotton panties, worn thin with loosening elastic along the waistband, dewy wetness gathering in the defined notch Tess can trace with her fingers. She does, roughened fingertips testing the slight give of her flesh, how it yields to her touch. All motion has stopped, her girl now frozen on the couch, barely breathing at the touch. When Tess notices, her fingers stop, forcing a breath out of the girl.

“You’re a fucking tease.” She whispers as her chest falls, tucking her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear. “Do something or I’m going home and getting myself off.”

“No, you won’t.” She pushes the girl’s hands away and begins the slow tug to remove her underwear, world narrowing to the sight. Thin, faded stretch marks adorn the skin she runs over, the swell of her thighs resisting the drag of the fabric ever so slightly. It’s mesmerizing, especially the stretched seconds of the gusset pulling off her already soaked cunt. “I don’t think you’re going anywhere,” Tess whispers, the girl’s panties hanging off her finger before she sets them down on the coffee table. She won’t be getting them back, whether she likes it or not. “You didn’t come all this way to just go home and get yourself off.”

She backs up on the couch, positioning the girl’s legs over her shoulders and adjusting until she’s comfortable. It’s familiar, muscle memory by now, even if she hasn’t taken anyone to bed in some time now. It doesn’t matter—she couldn’t forget this if she tried. Tess kisses the skin of her thighs before licking up her slit, gathering the wetness on her lips before pushing forward.

Tess has to hold her hips tight to keep her stable on the couch, the girl’s back arching as Tess buries herself between her legs. She sounds like she can’t quite catch her breath, fighting to exhale as Tess refuses to let up. One leg kicks at the air behind Tess’ head before curling into her back, pressing her closer; she finally breathes out a broken moan as Tess circles around the girl’s clit. She feels fingers on her hairline, cautiously pushing up until her girl has a bit of control over Tess’ head. She doesn’t take advantage of it, just keeps both of them steady, keeps Tess where she wants to be.

“Tess—” the girl mewls, shuddering as tension builds. Her muscles threaten to cramp under Tess’ fingers, legs held out of the way. She pushes her tongue inside as she mindlessly works out the kinks and knots in the girl’s thighs. She responds with a harsh tug on Tess’ hair, one she’s tempted to punish, but she’s willing to let it slide for the wail she lets out. No sense in getting too… depraved. Not when it’s the first time really has the girl’s attention.

The girl audibly chokes and squeezes her legs around Tess when she cums, ankles locking behind her. Tess buries her tongue further inside, not daring to change a thing. If this is the last time she gets to speak to her, the last episode of this weird little situation they’ve made for themselves, she’s not going to ruin it. She exhales in relief as she feels the grip on her hair tighten, then ease. They sit there for a moment after she stops trembling, Tess’ head tilted against her thigh, watching her chest rise and fall. The hand on her head gently releases her hair, brushing through the bands of gray and pushing them out of her face. She’s not looking down at Tess, one arm tossed over her eyes as she recovers.

She almost wonders if her girl has dozed off—her breathing is rhythmic and steady, she makes no effort to move or address Tess. Still, she can’t complain. There’s a strong possibility that she’ll never see the girl again, neither of them will ever stoop to this low again. Tess, with her stupid crush, and her girl, fucking a borderline stalker. As much as she hates to admit that that’s what she is.

After a few minutes of silence, she starts to shift. Tess sits up to give her room to move. Looking over to the coffee table, she grabs a hair tie, pulling half of her hair back out of her face. She probably should have done this sooner, but she likes to give her partners something to grip on to—tt’s part of the fun. She also takes a cigarette off the table, lighting it up and taking a drag as the girl sorts through her clothes on the floor. Tess catches the moment when she sees her panties on the table, looks over to Tess in the corner of her eye, and stands to pull her jeans on. She’s glad she doesn’t say anything—those belong to Tess now, one way or another.

She fights with the breaking clasps of her bra before Tess stands and helps her, smoothing her hands over the straps and fixing a twist where she wouldn’t be able to reach. The girl lingers before picking up her shirt, looking at Tess over her shoulder and smiling before bending at the waist. It puts them in a suggestive position as Tess’ hand drags down her skin, settling on the small of her back, her other hand holding the cigarette off to the side. Tess tries to commit the sight to memory, just a few seconds to keep to herself when this fledgling affair dies quietly in the water.

When she stands and pulls her tank top back on, she turns and tucks two fingers into Tess’ waistband, pulling her in.

“Am I out of your system by now?”

Tess looks over her again, eyeing her with a starving gaze. “Not a chance.”

The girl gets up on her toes one more time to kiss Tess, wrapping an arm around her neck to pull her in. “You know where to find me. Next time, I might just let you in.”

With that, she turns and walks out the door, shutting it behind her before Tess can say a word.

At LAST, I finished it! Got this request MONTHS ago, but writer's block is a bitch. I'm technically open to a part III, but I have other projects in mind, so it's not super likely. Feel free to say hi or drop your thoughts in my askbox, check out my AO3 or my about me if you're interested!

[all-mirth-no-matter]

Time After Time  |  Chapter One

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: You’ve been told by your mother since the moment you were born that you had the gift of prophecy. Convenient, since you managed to mysteriously transport back into time by one hundred years. What happens when you become wrapped up in the Shelby’s family business after the brothers return from the war? Will you ever get back to your own time or figure out how you got to Small Heath in 1918?

Warnings: language, war, drinking, smoking

ao3 Link | Catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 1: Kashmir

Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face, with stars to fill my dream. I am a traveler of both time and space, to be where I have been. — Kashmir, Led Zeppelin

Adjusting your hat, you stepped out of your apartment building and began walking down the road on the gravel, still getting used to the unevenness of the streets as you avoided mud puddles. “Constant dirt,” you mumbled to yourself, watching the bottom of your skirt grow damp despite your careful step. “Constant fucking dirt.”

It’d been two weeks since you woke up in Small Heath, Birmingham, 1918.

Your mother’s voice broke through your brain fog as you walked.

“You have a responsibility, Y/N,” your mother used to say to you with glassy eyes on nights she had one glass too many. “You have to be prepared.”

With a roll of your eyes, you would always ask, “For what, mum?”

And then, like always, your mother would shake her head, cover her mouth with her hand, and whimper sadly at some wild fantasy you knew she was concocting in that head of hers. She never did have an actual answer for you when she got like this.

“You always say that — I have to be prepared, but you can’t tell me what I have to be prepared for. I thought you had a gift — we had a gift? It’s bullshit! Why do you do this to me, mum?!”

That’s usually when the tears would break. Looking back, you should have seen the levee signs for your mother’s sanity. But in the thick of it, especially after your father died when it became an almost nightly ritual, it was just all too much. And completely, utterly, absolutely, ridiculous.

You had the gift of prophecy.

At least, that’s what your mother had been saying since you were old enough to remember. It wasn’t a metaphor, it wasn’t a feeling — it was fact. Of course the specifics of this revelation were always conveniently obtuse whenever you would ask your mother for any details.

It’d been years since you thought about those old fights. But on your last night in 2018, you couldn’t stop your mind from replaying them all. Guilt mixed with frustration plagued your body until you’d finally been able to fall asleep.

That night, you dreamed of hauntingly pale eyes. The face wasn’t one you recognized, but the eyes had you trapped, entranced. Mud circled the handsome face and slowly edged toward the center, toward his eyes. Red liquid began to mix with the mud as you tasted copper on your tongue. You reached out to grab the person before the mud and blood covered the eyes, but was pulled awake by a loud pounding at the door.

And that’s how you woke up in the year 1918.

Since that morning, you were trying to piece together what exactly was going on. You spent the first couple days in disbelief, walking around in clothes you had no knowledge of putting on. You thought for sure someone was playing a prank on you — a very elaborate one. But after interrogating the land lady and neighbors, finding newspapers, and combing through the entirety of the apartment you’d woken up in, you finally came to grips with the fact that you were now living, walking, breathing in the year 1918.

The land lady was little help. According to her, she and her husband had purchased the apartment building six years prior, but in their contract they had to designate that the room you awoke in stay prepped and empty for the impossible-to-predict arrival of a family member. When you pushed for a name, she didn’t have one for you and claimed that money had just been coming in anonymously over the years. While still freaked out yourself, you realized how much you were also freaking Mrs. Tully out, so you thanked her when she informed you that this month’s payment would be the end of that week. You planned to try and figure out what time the next payment was set to be made and to see if you could catch the payee.

Until then, you assessed what you’d found in your apartment: three outfits that all surprisingly seemed to be about your size, and a purse filled with about ten pounds in change. You didn’t know the exact inflation rate amount, but estimated that to be a little over 500 pounds back in your time.

When the end of the week came, your plan failed. No one came to deliver payment and you had to use a quarter of your found money to pay for the rent. You continued to wait to see if anyone would show up, but no one did. And eventually you came to the conclusion that if you were going to actively survive this new existence, you had to get a job.

Mrs. Tully had laughed when you asked her where you could find one. She told you to look in the advertisements of the local newspaper, but most jobs had been taken over by wives of men who’d gone to war.

“Which war?” You’d asked, absentmindedly, earning you a scoff from your land lady.

That’s when you quickly connected the pieces.

THE war. The Great War.

World War One.

Your mother had been a stickler for education, forcing you to take as many classes as you could in grade school. She pushed subject after subject and as many extracurricular activities as she could on you. In retaliation, you found yourself trying to be the complete opposite of the person she wanted you to be, even if it was in stupid little ways.

When your mother wanted you to take up piano, you insisted on learning ballet. Art over poetry. Psychology over economics. Literature over government. Math over science. Even listening to music over watching old movies.

The biggest push back was your mother’s insistence to learn everything about history that you possibly could. You’d fought hardest over that one, questioning why you needed to learn so much history if you could just predict the future.

One way or another, you eventually caved into your mother’s insistence. And while you’d never been properly diagnosed with eidetic memory, your mother had been overjoyed with your insane skill of comprehending and regurgitating so much information. And though you never actually admitted it to your mother, you had grown to really enjoy history.

And now you realized you were on the tail end of that First World War.

And still, you needed a job.

Most advertisements aimed toward women employment were textile factory jobs. While you had many talents, sewing was definitely not one of them. There were openings at the munitions factories, but you remembered reading about the side effects of working with machines and explosives. While you had no problem with blood and considered yourself an active Grey’s Anatomy watcher, you weren’t sure becoming a nurse was such a great idea either.

You were feeling out of your element by the time you finally landed on a local ad.

That’s where you were headed now, dressed to impress and still feeling completely high to the fact that you were 100 years into the past, applying for a bartending job because that’s the only thing you could find that you were good at.

A faint whimper caused you to pause.

It was still early and the streets were rather scarce, so you stopped and listened harder until you could clearly identify the sound of a girl crying. A few steps further toward the alley and you noticed an open window, a girl possibly a few years younger than you was leaning out of it and against the ledge, her hands covering her forehead as she tried to control her breathing.

“Oi!”

You didn’t realize you were staring when the girl shouted from the window, causing you to jump startled.

“Enjoying the fuckin’ show?” The girl asked snidely, using her hands to wipe the tears away from her eyes.

Without thinking, you grabbed the handkerchief from your pocket and walked closer to the window, lifting up your arm to offer it to her. The girl paused, wiping her nose with her nightgown sleeve and eyeing the handkerchief, then you, before accepting the token.

“You won’t tell anyone, you hear me?” The girl asked, her voice still venomous but you swore you could hear a lace of vulnerability in her words.

Your brow creased, unaffected by the girl’s attempt to be threatening. “One, I don’t even know who you are. Two, I don’t know anyone here to tell. And three, who cares if you’re crying? It’s no one’s business but your own.”

The girl, who was maybe closer to your own age now that you could see a bit more of her face, considered your points before chuckling, handing the handkerchief back. You tried to hide your grimace, but you were still super grossed out over the whole concept of handkerchiefs. But you took the stranger’s smile as a good turn and stifled your grossness by putting the cloth back in your pocket.

“You must be new around here?” The girl asked, sitting up straighter in the windowsill to get a better view of you.

“Yeah,” was all you offered, avoiding her gaze as you looked ahead at the pub at the end of the lane. “I saw the advertisement for help at the Garrison. I was on my way to apply.”

She shook her head, taking a moment to look you up and down. “Doubt Harry’ll hire you. He’s got a thing about not hiring pretty girls. Even with all the men away, he still won’t do it.”

You huffed. “Well, I’ll have to make him listen to me, then. If I’m going to be a good barten— uh, barmaid, then I’ll need to get used to making stubborn men get over themselves.”

That made the girl laugh. “Bet you a pence that you won’t make it past the interview.”

“You’re on!” Despite yourself, you felt yourself grin as you reached up to shake the stranger’s hand.

She giggled, “I’m Ada, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

A moment of silence fell between you after the introductions. You were about to attempt a polite retreat before Ada cleared her throat.

“No one’s dead, by the way,” Ada finally said. “I know I shouldn’t cry like that until… but sometimes it’s just too much.”

Your heart dropped as you began to put the pieces together. Kicking yourself a little for being so naive, you hoped not offering any condolences or asking the right questions hadn’t been a red flag or anything. But it almost seemed like Ada had been appreciative of your ignorance.

“Family or sweetheart?” you asked. You felt a little weird using the word sweetheart, but you hadn’t seen a ring which ruled out using husband and honestly you had no idea if people were using the word boyfriend yet. But the way Ada’s cheeks blushed, you knew you’d guessed something right at least.

“Both, actually. Last I knew they were in France. My brothers and—“ her blush grew deeper as she rolled her eyes. “God, why am I embarrassed to tell a complete stranger. But it’s a secret, no one’s to know. I just—“ she groaned, obviously frustrated.

You leaned against the side of the apartment. “Bastard stole your heart and took it with him to war, huh? And now there’s nothing you can do but ache and fear until he returns.”

“Exactly!” Ada shrieked.

You gave her a sympathetic smile. “And it’s a secret? Let me guess, brother’s best friend?”

Ada’s eyes widened. “You sure you’re not from around here?”

“Promise,” you chuckled. If she only knew the half of it. “I had the hots for my best friend’s older brother as a teenager. We had a bit of a secret fling before she found out and it caused a muck. But I can still recognize the blush and frustration. Please tell me this man at least let you steal his heart as well?”

The blush only deepened as Ada finally began to smile again. “I think so,” she answered quietly, almost scared to answer the question. “He’s just been gone so long now. And the stories — the war. I just hope the Freddie that comes home is the same one that left.”

Flashes of those history classes blew through your mind. The lessons on soldiers who came home from the First World War. Without realizing it, you felt yourself sending a small prayer to whoever was listening that this stranger’s loved ones weren’t victims to some of the more gruesome lessons you remembered from your youth.

“— I just wish we knew how much longer it was all going to be. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” Ada’s words were small again.

“November 11th, 1918,” you accidentally said, still lost in your own memories as you unwittingly attempted to smooth Ada’s worry.

“November?” Ada repeated, pulling you back to the moment. Your eyes snapped back to the stranger’s realizing what you’d done. “That’s just in a few months, how could you possibly know that?”

“Uhm,” you began to sweat. Shit, shit, shit. What if you’d already fucked up just two weeks after jumping back in time? Damn that Ashton Kutcher movie that you definitely didn’t pay enough attention to. You had to play it cool, so you kept your composure and shrugged your shoulders. “Just a guess. You know, with America’s help now, it can’t be too long—“

“Ada!”

The sound of an older woman’s sharp voice within the house caused the girl in the window to jump and turn backwards.

“Shit, I was supposed to get the water heated for my aunt,” Ada hissed as she checked the clock on the wall before rising from her seat. “Good luck with Harry, and come by later to let me know if I’ve won the bet!”

Ada didn’t stay to get a response, but that was okay because you were about to start hyperventilating. What the hell was wrong with you, throwing out dates that hadn’t happened yet?

You leaned against the stone wall and tried to flip through the rolodex of history books you’d read over the years to see just how badly you’d fucked up.

You knew that November 11, 1918 was officially considered the end of the war, but knew that was also littered with treaty dates and peace signings that were scattered over the next couple months and even years. So maybe November 11th wasn’t something that was officially recognized at the time? And you had no idea exactly how long news spread of war ending nowadays — it wasn’t like the newspapers were breaking news the same way it’d been in the 21st century… right?

And besides, Ada had only repeated November, so maybe she didn’t hear you say the exact day. Maybe she believed that it was just a frivolous guess. Maybe she even would think it was just the hopeful wishes of a well-intentioned stranger taking pity on her.

Either way, it was probably a good idea to try and steer clear of the girl for at least a little while until she forgot. Which was kind of a shame, you realized. Ada seemed like she could have been a good friend.

You took a deep breath, having reasoned with yourself enough to minimize the threat and began walking back toward the pub.

What you didn’t see was Ada’s aunt lean against the windowsill and watch you walk away, having definitely heard you predict the full date of the end of the war.

———

“You’re too pretty,” Harry Fenton said sadly, as if it pained him that this was the reason he was having to reject your request.

Damn Ada, you cursed to yourself, wondering if you were really going to let the girl know she’d won the bet. The reasonable side of you knew what he really meant by that. You’d be hit on, groped, or worse — and he didn’t want to be responsible for that. But you couldn’t let that stop you.

“I’ve been a bart— barmaid before. I promise you, Mr. Fenton, I can handle myself against a hoard of drunk men. I can be charming, but I can also hold my own. I’ve done it plenty of times.”

Harry’s brow creased. “You a whore?”

“Excuse—“

“I won’t have a whore workin’ my pub. It gets too messy—“

“No,” you said firmly. “I’m not a whore. For you, for them,” you waved your hand to the empty seating area. “Not for anyone. I just know how to defend myself against drunken imbeciles. Please, I’m a good barmaid. I know drinks, I know pours, I know customer service and how to defuse tense situations. This is what I’m good at.”

Harry looked away, a huff leaving his lungs as he considered. You could tell he was still trying to think of another excuse.

“Please,” you begged softly, waiting for him to lift his head back up.

As he did, he sighed, and your heart lept at the familiar sound of defeat. “Can you read?”

Your land lady had asked you the same question, but this time you didn’t laugh. “Yes,” you answered calmly. “I can write and type as well.”

“What about numbers?”

Your brow creased at his question. “Can I read numbers?”

“Yea, can you add ‘em up and stuff.”

“Oh!” You realized now what he was asking, slightly embarrassed by your misunderstanding. “Yes, I’m very good at math as well. Don’t even need a calculator.”

“A wa’?”

You cleared your throat. “Um, nothing. I just meant that I’m very good with numbers.”

Harry nodded. “Fine. I need help with stockin’ and the inventory. Come in tomorrow morning so I can show you the books and how we get the place set up, then we’ll see how you can handle your first bar shift. I won’t promise anything, but I believe in fair chances.”

You felt giddy at the opportunity and held back the urge to run over and hug Harry. You definitely didn’t need to give him any more reason to think you were a prostitute than he already had. Instead, you smiled and nodded, thanking Harry again for the chance before promising that he wouldn’t be disappointed.

“Better not,” he huffed, though you could tell there was a hint of humor at your excitement. “Fair chance don’t mean second chance. Things’ll be easier now, but I can’t make any promises if the war ends and the men return.”

November 11th, you repeated, this time to yourself. You’d already been too cavalier for comfort with Ada — you had to be careful.

“Understood.”

———

A month went by and you were beginning to grow more acclimated to your surroundings. You still had no answers as to why or how you were here, and you were beginning to believe that you never would.

In the meantime, you’d gotten used to your new job at the pub. It was a pretty easy gig compared to what you had expected. But Harry kept reminding you that their best customers were out on the lines. He’d often reminisced about his short-lived experience in the war, still walking with a limp that he believed wouldn’t ever fully recover.

When he wasn’t doing that, he was simultaneously fighting and gushing over your inventory management and production system development. It wasn’t an easy feat, as you could immediately tell there was so much disorganization going on and Harry just couldn’t wrap his brain around why you insisted on such rigorous systems. Eventually, you both learned to bend, especially when sales began to rise and spend waste decreased nearly 50% after implementing some of your suggested practices.

Outside of the pub, your friendship with Ada began to grow. Your original plan to avoid the girl for a few days after getting the job went up in smoke when Ada sought you out, believing you were trying to rob her of her betting win. You noticed that despite Ada’s claim to have lived in Small Heath for most of her life, she didn’t have many friends. In fact, as you grew closer, you came to believe that she didn’t have any proper friends outside of you and the girl’s family. You didn’t push the query, not yet feeling comfortable enough to ask and also worried about running off the only person aside from Harry who talked to you. As the days moved along, an odd thing began to happen: the closer you got to Ada, the more the other women in the town came to properly avoid you. Thinking it was just your imagination at first, you quickly realized that no one was bothering you in the streets or causing you any trouble at the bar or shops. You weren’t sure why exactly, but at least you had a friend.

Ada’s aunt, Polly, had been harder to warm up to than Ada had. You were completely intimidated on all accounts when Ada introduced you. The woman commanded the room when she walked in with her strong voice and sharp, beautiful features that made it both pleasing and terrifying when she smiled at you. Not that she’d smiled at you much. You felt constantly studied by the older woman, as if she was trying to pull out all your secrets.

But you held your own, and built the walls tall around your secrets, you stepped lightly around what you said, careful not to use any out-of-date slang or accidental predictions

Eventually, you began to win the woman over with your intelligence. When Ada found out how good you were with numbers, she asked you to help out in the book house one day. Aside from illegal horse racing bets, you were pretty clueless to the full extent of Ada’s family’s operation and influence to the town.

What you did learn was that Polly was running the organization while Ada’s brothers were away. The shop mostly employed women and men who hadn’t volunteered for the war. Polly had been furious that Ada allowed you access to their books without her permission — until you pointed out some discrepancies.

“Either this man can’t add correctly or he’s skimming money,” you interrupted when Ada and Polly began shouting.

After that, Polly threw all the books at you, and immediately began to whip everyone in line. She kept your new employment a secret though.

“No need to go lettin’ them know all our secrets, eh?” Polly had said with a wink when she offered you the job. Then she gifted you with her first smile, a wicked one with a mirthful glint in her eyes that made you both nervous and excited.

Over the month, you had hardly any spare time, which you liked — it left little time to think and it kept your purse full enough to keep your apartment and feed yourself. You kept going with your job at the Garrison, working with Polly twice a week on your days off to go over the books.

Everything was beginning to feel like a well-oiled machine.

Until November 11, 1918.

>> next chapter << chapter masterlist

[qqueenofhades]

As much as I love hearing trump getting more charges and would love nothing more than him to get sent to prison, I fear that when he eventually goes to trial, they’re will be some crazy maga nut who could watch him kill their mother and would still claim he’s innocent.

Honestly, I am... not totally sure what y'all want me to say here? I get the fear, believe me, but also, after every Trump indictment, just like clockwork, a lot of Gloomy the Doom Men pop up to pre-emptively insist that it doesn't mean anything, it won't go anywhere, he won't actually be punished, etc. I'm not saying this is that, but it does happen every time, and I just... don't know what I'm supposed to do about it? Is this part of the whole "The System Doesn't Work and Therefore We Are Justified in Not Participating" thing that the online leftists habitually do, or what? Honest question. First it was he'll get re-elected, then it was he will never leave power, then it was the Republicans will win in 2022, then it was he will never get indicted, etc. The goalposts keep shifting so any progress we do make on holding him to account (which is far more than has ever happened to any other American president, including actual war criminal George W. Bush) somehow is "meaningless" and I just?? Don't get it??

First of all, jury selection is a thing, and aims to weed out those who, in this case, are either too vehemently against Trump or too vehemently for him. They want the exact sort of mushy middle voter of which there are far too many in this country, who can be persuaded one way or the other but doesn't have ironclad previous biases. Also, they must have done a good job selecting jurors so far, given that all the grand juries have returned indictments, and at least one of them (the one in NY) had someone who was a fan of conservative talk radio/right wing politics. So if by this you mean one rogue juror will preclude a guilty conviction, that is something that can actually be planned for and prepared, and as I said, all the grand juries seated to hear evidence against Trump so far have returned indictments.

Also, this case has been assigned to U.S. District Judge Tanya Chutkan, who is an Obama appointee and has been willing to sentence J6 defendants harshly in the past. She is widely regarded as competent, fair, and firm, and will not grant any of the bullshit delays that Aileen Cannon the Trump-stooge judge will bend over backward to find for him in the Mar-a-Lago docs case in Florida. So there's a strong possibility this one goes to trial before May 2024, and the judge in this case is neither a Trump judge or a slobbering Trump partisan: indeed, quite the opposite. So I don't think we can assume that she will be so incompetent as to not manage her own trial and/or jury.

Anyway, yes. We don't know what will happen, but similar to the Espionage Act charges he got hit with last time (themselves meriting of a stiff prison sentence) Trump is facing yet more high-level felony charges that come with serious jail time. So how about for now, we don't automatically assume that what will be the most watched and covered trial in a generation will fall apart because of a simple and easily avoidable mistake that even I, a non-lawyer, know how to fix, much less a team of extremely experienced prosecutors who know this has to be absolutely fucking watertight and then some? It will be better on your mental health for the long run and arguably also much more accurate.

[birdblorbo]

I'm back on my bullshit, here's the Loser's Club roller-skating

I went skating with my best friend and their younger sister the other night and it single handed threw me back into Loser's Club headcanons so here we fucking go.

Long Post

Bill: He's definitely skated with Georgie before and while he hasn't skating in a while (RIP Georgie I love you) it didn't take him long to get back into the motions of it (Just like riding a bike, pun partially intended). He loses his balance occasionally but always manages to stabilize before he's really in an danger of falling.

Stan: He's a natural. His first time skating he struggled for around five minutes and then all the sudden could skate as though he went every weekend, no one can explain it. Bill and him spend most of the time catching while they skate and matching each others pace. Bill will go check on someone if they fall while Stan pretends not to know them.

Richie: He's really good for some reason??? You'd think he'd be flailing around and falling constantly but he's the only one who can do those fancy turns (Where you put your feet in a triangle, idk man but I can't do it) and skate backwards (if you can skate backwards I hate you I can never figure it out). He likes showing off but in the process trips over children that fall while he's not looking.

Eddie: He can't skate and he's made about it. He is like a newborn deer on an icy road. He desperately grabs onto whatever loser is closest and refuses to leave the wall unless they let him hold onto them. Richie (and occasionally Stan while he skates by) keeps making fun of him and hallway through Eddie gets fed up and goes to sit out until Mike finally convinces him to try again and sticks with Eddie for the rest of the night.

Mike: He's not a pro but he's definitely not bad. He enjoys just slowly going around listening to the music the DJ plays. He's very careful of avoiding young children especially the ones who like to zip around the rink really fast (Honestly the children who are good skaters are more dangerous you don't see them coming and they're unpredictable. At least the kids struggling you can tell where they're trying to go) He's the first to notice if one of the Loser's is sitting out and always goes to sit with them even if it's just cause their feet or ankles are hurting.

Beverly: She likes to go fast. As soon as she's comfortable on her skates she is going around as fast as she can until she falls, knocks someone over, or is asked to slow down by a worker. She's also the first one to get bored and will inevitably drag someone with her to get food (most likely Eddie who was already sitting out and will complain about how gross the food is while proceeding to get probably the worst thing he could've gotten).

Ben: He struggles for the entire time he is there but is determined to be able to skate by the end. He falls the most out of anyone but swears he does not need to hold onto the wall and refuses the Loser's help. Good news! he does eventually get it. Bad news, he gets it down five minutes before closing.