#i think i figured out the issue myself after radio silence for a while and hopefully have a request in to fix it soon 🤞

[b-blushes]

one thing that will make you appreciate finally finding effective allergy meds after many years is. running out of them

[futureworkplace]

Progress Update #3

What's Been Happening

It's been another month where I accidentally went radio silent on this account. It was both intentional and unintentional. The main reason being I didn't have anything to update, and didn't really do anything new since then. However, since then, I have been teaching myself how to code in Python for the game engine I'm using, Ren'Py. I wouldn't call myself an expert now, but I can at least code in general. To do this, I took Harvard's free online course (thanks to the direction of a tutor I talked to), CS50: Introduction to Programming in Python to obtain this knowledge and apply it. In the past week, I even made some test programs to measure my capabilities with programming. Despite my overall radio silence and time away from production, I think it was worth it to spend all this time learning how to code with Python.

What's Next?

More development in general. Story trees are my main priority right now. Now that I've taught myself how to code and have proven in practice that I can make a game, finishing the story tree is something I must do ASAP. Then I can continue developing the game after that. After that, the game art is something that needs to be done.

Hiccups, Hurdles and AHA! Moments

I had one very annoying hiccup happen while I was creating test programs. That was just getting the bars for Energy, Stress, Task and Focus to show up on the screen. It took me two whole days before I figured out how to fix the code. It was a very small AHA! moment with the semantic errors on my end.

An AHA! moment I had is figuring out a pretty solid way to implement math for the individual bars I mentioned earlier in conjunction with the player's inputs and customized stats. I have to iterate on it further, but I have direction with it now.

Where I am on my Timeline

I am definitely at least 3 weeks to a whole month behind. I am at least in the production phase, but I should have been here much earlier than I am right now. It's crunch time now.

If I had known how to code and knew where to acquire this knowledge I have now, this wouldn't have been an issue. But as I always say, lessons for the future.

Some Visual Documentation

I would post a video of my programs in work, but this is my second time doing this update because Tumblr crapped out and didn't post my update when I did that. I would really like to post a video, but I don't want to do a third try of this update. Here are some pictures of my test programs and small additions I made to the story tree.

[vanga-bond-hds]

Hurricane Beryl aftermath

Hello everyone if you are currently reading this then I have somehow managed to get my power and Internet back after the storm hit my neck of the woods and I'll quickly break down what happened. What happened on July 8th? -this was the day that Beryl hit, it was a category one hurricane but it did produce a lot of wind and rain, In my case at my house it was very creepy how the wind was blowing and how it was heard it was hard to describe over text but it was when you could hear how hard it was blowing almost like it was something out of a horror movie. Furthermore, effectively my family and I were off the grid aside from radios, as unfortunately our cell phones and landlines went dead and the only way were able to find out who was worried about us was by driving to a grocery store parking lot where there was a signal, the common denominator was we have at&t in which my opinion makes me question on why both services we paid for failed on an emergency. So if you did reach out to me on the next day on the 9th thank you as it does mean a lot to me, and while the signal was weaker for a while I was able to keep everyone updated and reassured that I wasn't dead. What comes next?- Well by the time I am writing this we don't have power or Internet just sitting in a hot house during the Texas summer but by the time this update is posted the cleanup process is ongoing for my neck of the woods and obviously, I have my internet back. Moreover, I am also making plans on moving out whenever I find a job after I graduate or finding some sort of part-time thing that could help out with it before I go full time, as there are many circumstances on why I haven't been able to get a job as it's a combination of life and other commitments. If things are luckier I want to move out before summer 2025 but the most likely outcome is that it might be pushed back due to how sucky the job market is, and expert planning to make sure nothing else gets knocked out of order when I leave home it won't be easy but one thing I did learn is that if there is a problem I can tackle it figuring it out in the process. What about my relationship? For those who weren't aware of the drama to keep a Long story short my now ex-boyfriend wasn't too responsive for a period of time even though previously he had been responsive until it was radio silence around the time of his birthday commission being completed. I'm usually very reserved when it comes to my relationships not really in favor of revealing who I am with because of how fickle dating is. But I assumed that my ex was different he even had it in his discord bio saying that he is in a relationship. But for those who do know him don't give him a hard time even though it hurts I don't want to block him from my life yet as a way for closure on his end just in case whenever he feels like responding he knows the reasons why. The reason I made the decision to break up with him is that I felt abandoned and ghosted over the fact I was panicked over thinking that something happened to him, but in reality, he was mainly focused on playing Xbox games not responding to me in which at the time I am writing this he said he was going through a hard time and when asking about it I got radio silence. I did issue an ultimatum but while I know he didn't read the text on telegram I know for sure he was there, saying simply respond in a week or else it's over but now I just scrubbed the idea of me being in a relationship with him out of my head. It was either he responded after I sent him that text or said what was troubling him and then went radio silent again, in which either way I was done with him. Which he has become ex-boyfriend #5 the one who fumbled to communicate what was wrong ruining an almost 3-year relationship. Not ruling out dating in the future just "taking a break from dating for an indefinite time" but whenever I feel like putting myself out there the next person will treat me well. I also made a promise to myself that had I broken up with someone I wouldn't be on and off with them as they had one chance to show that they could be with me, work through any problems, and just be happy with each other with a break up being the last resort. Also Obviously there was *A Lot* to post at the same time but as me being a writer It's natural to write things out especially how I talk, whenever the next update comes out it's a toss-up.

Posted using PostyBirb

[sirchubbybunny]

It's almost 2:30am and I'm sick. I'm also full of feelings listening to a playlist I compiled for a friend, and while I'm polishing it up, I'm looking over Reddit to kill time until I feel well enough to sleep.

I just came across a family drama thread and it made me think about my grandma passing away last week. I still have weird feelings about it for a lot of reasons. I was disconnected from her and my grandpa at a young age due to my parents separating as a toddler and I never got to see them more than a few times before I refused to see my dad and step mom at some point.

My grandpa died sometime in the late 90s or start of the 2000s, which I had to find out the hard way. She outlived him by 23 or so years and I'm just thankful I got to see her one more time, a few months before the pandemic. In spite of all her health issues and dementia, my cousins [H & J] told me that she still remembers all of us - even me. I think she was okay with me being trans, too, which was what I was worried about.

The news about her dying was quiet. Subtle. J changed her profile picture to her holding someone's hand. Then, changed her banner to her and her sister [H], and our grandma together. The profile picture was my major hint and the banner confirmed it before I heard. Fast forward about two hours and my mom comes to me. I already know what she's going to ask.

"Have you heard the news?"

Yeah, I kind of drew my conclusion from the other side of the family.

That's when she told me that, out of nowhere, the phone rang. It was my dad. He said my grandma died and he was on his way to the hospital. My dad went radio silent on me ten years ago after I tried to reconnect with him and my step mom for support when I was coming out. They even visited me when I was in the ward. Then, after being involuntarily committed months later - nothing.

They weren't returning any my calls from the hospital payphone. They weren't returning my mom's calls or texts from any our numbers. This continued to happen after I got out, along with emails going unanswered. It was like they vanished. I didn't know until I met with H and grandma years later that she and J did some Scooby-Doo detective work and figured out he was still somewhat local, but farther out. If I go down a certain road, I can still find the last place the two of them lived when they drove me out to clear my head.

I was doing well for myself. He made a choice to go no contact with me, not the other way around. If he wanted to find me, he could have. I just accepted the silence as his answer.. But now, after all this time. Why he decided to pop his head back in by phone and not even bother to ask for me is what I don't get. I think he knows I met with H and my grandma, too. How, I'm not sure, unless I'm thinking about my mom saying she knows I met with them and not him hearing it through the grape vine.

I was working on coming to terms with him being out of the picture. I was sad and angry ten years ago. I was able to channel that into art. I was doing better. I thought I was. Now I feel like I'm devolving back to square one again and figuring out how to start over since I feel like it's just hanging over my head that maybe this time, things will be different.

Fuckin daddy issues at most 3am here. What a shit show note to bring us to the end of the year, right?

[akshigo]

10/27/22 Honesty: Dad

Dad: How to start this, where to start this? I am selfish, I originally contacted you for a selfish reason. It was not to get to know the man who gave me half my genes, nor my father. It was to know something that happened in Ghana. Maybe also learn to cook a little bit. Completely selfish and manipulative, if you want to cut ties with me fair enough, I will not judge you. But maybe you want to know why? Or wonder if there can be more or whatever else. I don’t know honestly, you have been absent for most my life and truthfully I don’t need you in my life. It could be interesting talking to you and understanding your feelings or experiences. But the honest truth is I’m not, or at least wasn’t interested in forming some kind of bond or getting a father figure. And honestly I’m not sure how much you care about our relationship, our messages to each other are rather repetitive and... bare bones. “how are you doing” “fine, you?” “fine”. I could blame you but that’s not fair, I haven’t put much work into this myself and I have no desire to villainize you. I don’t say much because alas there is not much to say, my life is fairly stagnant and while there are things about me that would potentially be nice to talk about, to simply get off my chest, I am use to hoarding my problems so I am stupidly keeping my mouth shut about the things that bug me. 

Speaking of things that bug me, here is where I talk about things that happened the last time I saw you. Before I start I would like to mention that I don’t really hold this against you. Last time I was with you was a night where our neighbors in the apartment were grilling, you asked that I get you a hamburger, I said I would rather not because they were smoking and I didn’t want to inhale the smoke because of my asthma, you told me to go anyways and so I did. I came back with said hamburger and unwisely laid it on the couch with no plate, silly mistake. Your reaction was a bit “extreme” you screamed and yelled sent me to my room and later threw the hamburger either at me or near me I don’t remember. I would like an apology, mostly for the principle of it all and less because I still hate you or anything like that. I feel like I shouldn’t have to ask for an apology but if you truly feel as though you did no wrong then don’t apologize. I don’t want some insincere attempt to make me feel better. 

There is more I wish to speak on so I will move along. Honestly in a fucked up way I’m thankful, you lost your privileges to see me after that and made it easier to move to Florida which I believe (could be somewhat mistaken) ended a lot of my behavioral issues. No more school outbursts or anything, in fact I only got in trouble twice, which was me being too loud or some equally mild behavior. I was and still am extremely proud of myself. I don’t think that would have happened if I had stayed in Rhode Island. You may feel angry or like I am slighting you in some way, if so understandable, I’m not trying to, but you may feel however you feel. I just want you to know that I very much stopped holding that against you, yet I still want an apology which may seem confusing or like I’m lying. 

I should probably talk about the radio silence as well, that does make sense. So you know how our last conversation played out so no need to recap that. I appreciate that you care enough to or want to seem to care enough that you thought I needed some advice. I know it seems like I have no motivation to pursue a career or better myself but I do, I hate staying at home 24/7 doing nothing that contributes to my long-term future. Sure it feels good goofing off, talking with friends, playing games. But in between those moments I know I’m not living up to my own ideals for myself, I know I’m wasting my time doing things that aren’t productive. I don’t need someone to try and make me realize this because I already do, I will say, sometimes I can be a bit unmotivated. I’m use to living in my comfort zone where I do nothing. I have done this before, I’ll give some background. We have moved once during my time here, when we moved to where we are now I had too much work undone in public school and missed to many days of school, which meant there was a very real possibility that I would be held back. I didn’t want that and neither did mom (is it weird referring to her like this, should I say my mom or something else, idk) so I was going to do online school, to catch up and get back into public school. I barely submitted work, really only doing it when a deadline was coming up which made my pace incredibly slow, I never did get back into public school before college. My mom ended up calling me during a visit to Maine saying I wouldn’t be able to get into high school. I hid away and cried because I felt like I had failed; I did fail. When I came back home we laid out a new plan, I would get my GED so I could move onto college, even though my education was behind I managed. The thought of leaving my comfort zone and jumping into the unknown can at times be a little daunting but I am aware that I can’t live my life like this, and I don’t want to. I have been in this place before and it feels truly awful. 

(This whole thing was written in December or November of 2022 as such the this upcoming paragraph has become outdated, I took and passed both classes)

The current plan is to attend college in spring 2023, I recently talked with my advisor found some classes that I can start with, I’ll only be taking two initially because last semester I attended I was incredibly bad at properly putting enough time into the work for said classes.

Not to mention they went online because of covid which showed me I cannot due online classes, not right now. I am managing because I have had to fight for any semblance of normal all my life. This is not meant to be shade towards you but I need to tell someone this, it is so unbelievably frustrating and maddening to do all this alone, I’ve done so much of this alone with no one to help in my day to day. Mom works all the time, HAS worked all the time leaving no time for me or my struggles. I have learned to shut my mouth and sit in agonizing silence. But I will find a way to overcome this, it’s how I’ve made it this far. Anyway, I don’t need your lecturing, I know this is a shortcoming of mine and I don’t think you get the privilege of giving me advice since you have not been part of my life for roughly half my life. Again I appreciate the sentiment and maybe you’re just trying to look out for me, I don’t know I haven’t been part of your life for as long as you haven’t been in mine. Anyway these are my honest thoughts. No lying, no hiding, sorry it’s absurdly long.

I will not pretend like should we move past this somehow I would be 100% invested in getting to know you, I am unsure, I don’t want to make you think that if we resolve any of this that then I will not be distant because that would be a lie. Sorry. I got around to reading The Rooster bar by John Grisham, it was alright. I enjoyed the characters, they felt genuine and real. The premise was also interesting since there are actual colleges looking to ripoff would be students. However once I finished the book it felt kind of hollow, I am not sure why, but I think part of it or maybe even all of it is because it ends in what feels rather anti-climatically, I think it is a real ending in that it reads like how it could and maybe even would play out in real life, but it stills feels like- sorta lame. Not saying it should be like some action movie or what have you but those are my thoughts. I plan on reading The Judge’s List, not sure what it’s about kinda picked it up haphazardly but figured I would give another one of his books a try before saying I’m not interested in his stories. Thanks for the recommendation.

[maximotts]

♡ 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘵. 𝘪𝘪 ♡ {𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘵}

pt. i || pt. iii

a/n: ahaha remember when I said all would be fixed in this part? Turns out I lied. Part 2 was getting way too long and I didn't want this to feel rushed so part 3 will be the final part, but fret not, I'm finalizing part 3 as we speak because I didn't want to leave y'all at another painful cliffhanger. That'll be up right after this one before I go to bed tonight

warnings: angst, another semi-argument, Wanda reading Natasha's thoughts, a gallon of hurt feelings, panic attacks (Wanda)

summary: Natasha can't give Wanda space anymore after an Incident. aka the Secret Softy finally realizes she misses the Small Sunshine

words: 3.1k

masterlist. || navi. || request info/rules. :open

𝘮𝘰𝘺𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘬𝘢𝘺𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘬𝘢 = 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭

𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘬𝘢 = 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺

𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘰𝘺 = 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵

✣ ✣ ✣

It’d been three weeks. Three weeks since she’d seen Wanda, eaten any meals with her, watched her dark hair fall gently over her shoulders as she laughed, or felt her soft hands brush against her fingers for reassurance or in a silent request to be held. Safe to say, Natasha missed Wanda terribly. Even more so, the guilt from how deeply she’d hurt the person she cared about was eating her alive. She saw Wanda’s wounded face almost as frequently as she blinked and she longed to reach out and hug her until it was all better.

She had made attempts. The night of her blow up, Natasha knocked on Wanda’s door for a good five minutes. It was obvious she was in there, sitcom laughter emanating from her television. After a while it was clear she wasn’t ready to talk and Natasha understood; she wouldn’t want to talk to her either. She resigned herself to seeing Wanda at breakfast the next morning, hoping maybe a friendly smile from across the room would let the girl know she wasn’t mad at her. But Wanda was nowhere to be found. Two days of missed meals later and having tripped over a dirty sandwich plate in front of Wanda’s room and Natasha realized she was purposely avoiding even the possibility of having to sit next to the redhead when she ate. Again, Natasha couldn’t blame her.

Now three weeks in, Natasha settled on just walking in. Wanda rarely kept her door locked when she was inside, she and Natasha were the only ones with permanent rooms on the female residence side and there was never an issue with Nat coming in unannounced- until now of course. An hour’s worth of hyping herself up behind her, she took the ten steps next door to where she’d hopefully be able to fix her awful mess. Still she hovered outside, hand outstretched, hovering as she took one last deep breath.

Her hand never reached the doorknob.

Before Natasha could make contact with the metal, a hot spark of red zapped her hand and she jumped back to avoid further attack. “Wa-”

“Don’t even think about it, Natasha Romanoff.” The first time she heard that voice again, she didn’t expect it to sound so dangerous. Natasha expected anger, but she didn’t know Wanda could sound so threatening.

She’d be a fool to try the knob again, it’d only upset her further. Nevertheless, it was important she at least got part of her message out. “I know you’re upset, Wanda. I’m upset with myself too. I was wrong, so wrong. I never should have hurt you like I did, I should have just talked to you. That’s on me. I want to prove to you I’m sorry, maybe even earn your trust back eventually? Whenever you’re ready.” Natasha sighed, twisting her still tingling hand in the other. “I miss you, but I ruined us. Not you. I’m sorry, Wanda.”

Unbeknownst to Natasha, Wanda had wandered closer to the door as soon as she noticed the other pacing outside of her doorway. She wasn’t ready to talk to her; she couldn’t find a way to face her yet without fear of looking like she was coming crawling back without having heard an apology, but before she could think too hard on it, Natasha was speaking. Her heart grew heavy with the weight of Natasha’s words. She wasn’t one for feelings or true emotions and although fairly clumsily uttered, Wanda knew sincerity when she heard it. Swayed as her heart was to run into the arms of the woman she missed for the past week, her brain instantly reminded her of other words.

You still want her after she told you how clingy you are? She’s right. You are pathetic.

The ache was back, stinging just as sharp as the day she’d first heard. She couldn’t yet.

Wanda’s back hit the wall, sinking to the floor with her knees huddled close to her chest. She knew Natasha had just been angry when she lashed out, that she wouldn’t typically be so public with her outbursts, much less direct them towards her, but there were some true feelings within those poison laced words and Wanda didn’t want to have that conversation yet.

“Well.. you know where to find me.” Wanda hated how sad Natasha sounded; she must’ve been tearing herself apart. She despised not being able to fix things. Soft footsteps told Wanda she was fully alone again and although that should have let her relax, she groaned with how empty she felt once more.

✣ ✣ ✣

Another week went by with no exchanged words and Natasha was beginning to give up hope. She’d ruined everything between them seemingly irreparably; asking any of her teammates yielded a non-committal response, none of them were spending tons of time with her either. She’d given up on knocking, having only met silence or words of warning. All she could do was wait.

For Wanda’s part, she felt like she was going to burst. Her skin felt like it was on fire, nervous energy sparking right under the surface. She’d closed herself off to everyone, opening herself up to Natasha was a mistake, it must have been. Her last words to her had been apologetic and kind, but the hurtful ones still lingered and she felt stuck. It was tearing her apart. Even more so, today’s training left her disoriented- earthquake simulation. As the fake ground shook under her and buildings fell, Wanda was spiraled back to childhood and more recently, Sokovia, and although she played it off as nothing with others, as soon as she was back in the safety of her room she fell apart.

Before she would seek out Natasha, whisper her worries against her skin from under the safety of a warm blanket. She couldn’t do that now, couldn’t ask such a thing from Natasha after what she said and after near radio silence for a month. Wanda huddled in her own bed, tired eyes staring longingly at the wall separating her and Natasha’s room. The person she wanted -needed- was so close, but so far. “You’re fine. You’ve dealt with this alone before.”

✣ ✣ ✣

Natasha couldn’t sleep. Not for lack of exhaustion; she’d been training longer these days in hopes of catching more glimpses of Wanda, just to make sure she looked okay. It was working and thankfully from what she could see, Wanda was alright. The past few days were different though; she looked more tired, dragging along more and more, and now today she’d survived the earthquake simulator. To anyone else, Wanda looked like her normal self, quiet and to herself, but Natasha saw the girl’s hands shake, watched her stance go slack in a way she’d warned Wanda against many times. Afterwards, Wanda was off to her usual seclusion before Natasha could reach her from across the room so she settled for giving Bruce a stern talking to instead. He should’ve known better than to shove Wanda in that simulation, especially by herself.

She left a properly admonished Bruce, heading in the direction of Wanda’s room. Arguments be damned, she wouldn’t let Wanda explode alone, even if she hated her for intruding after. If her repeated self-reassurance weren’t enough to convince her by the time she reached her destination, the moans and whines from within set her mind. Natasha hovered again, weighing the consequences, but Wanda let out such a sob that she couldn’t ignore. “Wanda? Can I come in please?” Her hand landed safely on the door, an improvement from last time.

“It’s just me, I wanted to check on you after training.” No response, but no rejection either. She turned the knob, grateful Wanda seemed to have forgotten to lock the door. Whether it was a mistake or a silent hope for Natasha’s intervention, she didn’t know, but she would use the opportunity. She could barely find Wanda in the dark room, but her eyes settled on the small form in the middle of her large bed and Natasha was by her side in an instant.

“Wanda? Sweetheart, hey, it’s me. What’s wrong?” Her eyes were unfocused, pupils blown wide with fear. Natasha longed to scoop her up, but she couldn’t startle her; she didn’t even know if she’d want her there once she realized who she was. Still, it hurt so deeply to have let her get this bad; she could’ve helped if Wanda trusted her enough to reach out. Natasha waited for what felt like hours until Wanda noticed her, crouching by a bed was rough on her tired knees, but she’d stay like that forever if need be. When Wanda finally made eye contact, she only stared at the redhead, as if figuring out whether the woman in front of her was real or not. She took a daring step, holding her hand out to Wanda, keeping it in her eyeline as long as she could until her palm reached her head. Her thumb moved, ever so softly, over her scalp as a test. Anything she could do to soothe her. “I’m here, Wands.”

If Natasha weren’t so strong, Wanda would’ve knocked her over. She’d thrown her full weight onto her in an instant, clinging to Natasha for dear life while her lower half still hung from the bed. There were so many things tearing at her, so much emotion she needed to unload, but she was too overwhelmed. Natasha had come to her. Had ignored their month of silence and hurt feelings to try to aid her and it left her stunned. “Tash- Natasha.. I-I’m so sorry..”

“Ah, no none of that,” Natasha stood with a grunt, taking Wanda with her to set them both on the bed. She navigated her way to the top of the bed in the dark, only stopping when her back hit the headboard, letting Wanda hold onto her, “This is my fault, I’m sorry. I should have been here for you.”

Wanda shook her head slowly, burying herself as far into the crook of her neck as deep as she could. “No. I should’ve been able to handle training today. You were right, I can’t do anything myself. I’m weak and pathetic and..” Sobs took over any chance of coherent words, shaking against the warm body she’d missed so much. Part of her screamed to move away, to suck up her tears and prove to Natasha she was just fine on her own. But she couldn’t pretend. She was fine on her own, she could handle it, but she needed the comfort of someone she trusted too. Someone she could relay her thoughts too instead of bottling them all inside until they got the best of her.

Before she knew it, Natasha felt tears rolling down her cheeks as well. She hated crying, couldn’t stand being so outwardly vulnerable with someone else, but if Wanda could be with her then she owed her the same trust. Toned arms pulled the small woman trembling against her closer, pressing frantic kisses to the crown of her head, anything to show her apologies. “You’re not weak for your emotions, detka. It’s one of the strongest things you could do to allow yourself to open yourself up and trust me.. I should have given you that same trust and been honest from the start.” Natasha cradled Wanda’s head to her chest, rocking her as sweetly as she could. She knew she was holding her a fraction too tight, but she couldn’t help it. Reassuring fingers brushed through long brunette hair, keeping her as close as possible.

“Can you forgive me?” The muffled voice from below temporarily shook Natasha from her waterfall of revelations and she remembered why they were in this situation.

“Moya sladkaya detka, you were forgiven weeks ago. You were trying to help me and yes, we need to talk about how I deal with the aftermath of long missions because I do sometimes need time to myself, but nothing, nothing you did warranted how I hurt you.” Wanda froze and for a moment Natasha was scared she would pull away, but she nodded slowly. “Can you forgive me?”

That was a loaded question. Wanda fought to clear her thoughts, organize them in any way that could possibly make sense. She wanted so badly to simply accept and stay in Natasha’s arms. It wasn’t that she thought Natasha was lying to her; she truly believed she was sorry for what she did, but that didn’t mean those words didn’t still swirl through her head everyday since she’d first uttered them. It was hard to think so close to her. Wanda pried herself away from Natasha, not missing the way Natasha kept hold on her hips as if letting go meant she’d lose her forever. “I want to forgive you, Natasha.”

It hurt, but it was fair. She didn’t expect an easy apology and didn't deserve one either. “There’s a but coming, right?” Wanda couldn’t meet her eyes; she only avoided eye contact when she had more to say and was biding her time. “You don’t have to forgive me, Wanda. I’m willing to do whatever you need to make you feel safe again, no matter how long it takes.” And she meant it. Natasha would put in the work for Wanda, she was more than worth it.

She knew what she needed. It was the only way she could think of easing her mind. Still, Wanda promised she wouldn’t do it again unless she had to, but… she had to. “I need to feel you.” A hesitant ring-clad hand reached out, tapping Natasha’s temple to finish the thought she couldn’t speak. “Nothing traumatic, nothing too deeply buried.. hopefully, at least.” Rarely was it hard for Wanda to search out thoughts in someone about a particular person who crossed their mind regularly. She hoped it was more than wishful thinking that Natasha had her in her thoughts with some frequency. “Please, Tash… I need to know you feel more for me than just ‘clingy, weak puppy.’”

Natasha opened her mouth to retort, to try to take her harsh words back, but she knew it wouldn’t help. The thought of Wanda searching through her mind again scared her still. Last time left her shaken for weeks, months, after what she’d dug up, but back then Wanda was looking to hurt her and damn, she was great at it. She had to trust she wouldn’t do that now. Trust was so hard. A promise was a promise, though. Natasha took Wanda’s free hand in both of hers, a lifeline to hold while she gave herself to the woman she cared so much for. “Okay.. be gentle?”

Wanda let out a chuckle; Natasha’s sensitive side was so very cute. “I would never be anything but, dorogoy.” Natasha nodded, swallowing her fears with reassurance. Wanda was only ever kind to her, too much at times; Steve and Sam never missed an opportunity to poke fun at Natasha when in the early days Wanda was practically exploding with nerves around the redhead. Eventually they figured out it was less that Wanda thought Natasha was going to beat the pulp out of her and more that she wished the older woman would crush her with her thighs- but the two men waited for Natasha to figure that one out on her own.

“Go ahead, Wands. Just be quick about it, alright? I don’t want to spill all my secrets right now.” Wanda agreed with a quiet hum, shaking her head and straightening her spine before moving her fingers alongside Natasha’s head. It reminded her of the first time they’d officially met; a bittersweet memory of how stunning she felt her then enemy was, but bringing her trauma to the surface before those steadfast blue eyes caught sight of her. Now though, Wanda was careful. Only going deep enough to look at Natasha’s memories and thoughts about her. How surprised she was that Wanda was as powerful as she was. Her instant and ongoing distrust of her when she and her brother came to aid the Avengers in Sokovia. Natasha’s annoyance at her stolen red jacket, with an added and apparently shocking sense of possessiveness brought on by seeing her in her clothing. Interesting. Wanda would note that little fact for the future.

Red ringed eyes shone in the darkness, both locked onto Natasha’s and staring far past her. She wanted to be open and honest, that was the whole point. Consequently Wanda let Natasha see what she was seeing and with every twinge of irritation her past self felt towards Wanda and her initial attempts to gain trust with her new team, specifically with herself, her current self cringed at her behavior. But slowly things shifted. Resentment shifted to reluctant endearment, then care and protection and finally into where she longed for Wanda’s calming presence when she was stressed or wanted a confidant. The weight of vulnerability felt like being flayed alive and despite the hand Natasha held using one finger to stroke reassuringly at her palm, she squirmed as they approached that night Natasha came home a month ago.

“You’re fighting me.” The brunette’s eyebrows furrowed, pushing harder at the memory Natasha was keeping away from her. “Stop it.”

Red curls shook as Natasha hung her head; she didn’t want to live through it again. Every night it haunted her. She should’ve just talked to her, given her credit for being one of the most understanding people she’s ever met, having her see it again would just push Wanda further away- “I can still hear your thoughts, Natasha.” Her racing concerns rang loud in Wanda’s own brain, blocking out any hope of unlocking that dreaded outburst until she could get her to calm down. “Trust me, please. You have to let me in.” True, Wanda could forcibly rip the memory from her with ease. It would take such little effort, but she wouldn’t- couldn’t. She needed Natasha to let her see, allow herself to be this forthcoming with Wanda. That would speak louder than anything.

It took everything in Natasha to take her next breath, “Okay, do it.” Wanda breathed a sigh of relief, Natasha’s agreement giving her hope of progress. She slipped her hand from Natasha’s warm grasp, ignoring the small sad noise she was sure Natasha didn’t want to talk about. Instead her hand went to the back of Natasha’s head and brought it forward to rest on her shoulder, her nose promptly burying itself in the crook of Wanda’s neck. Her gentle floral scent settled Natasha’s worries; it’d been too long since she was allowed so close. “I trust you.”

[castiel-left-his-mark-on-me]

Hi, Ary, very inactive ex-mutual(i think???) here. Good to see you thriving! ♥ It's been a while since I've dipped my head into cockles stuff. Could I perchance maybe ask uuuuum tf is going on??? lol I see Mish apparently confirmed he used to stay over at Jensen's in Van, and heard newbs were apparently freaking out about it and getting a bit messy, which I get that, business as usual. But I'm also seeing shit about spin-offs? And Jared getting in a twitter fight with Jensen, causing/resulting in stans to going feral and sending hate?? I know you're not as big a fan of Jar, but that's part of why I figured I'd ask you, you usually have a really level head about this kinda stuff. If you don't wanna answer publically, or at all, that's totally chill!

Hey, Rhi! We're still mutuals! Of course we're still mutuals! When I saw the notification of your ask, I was like "Hey! I haven't seen you in a while!" and my husband was like "???" and I said "Tumblr" and he said "Oh."

It was a wild time haha.

In any case, welcome back to the dumpster fire! We are obviously still a mess. So to catch you up, I guess I will start by summarizing both before and after the finale (not sure where you left off so this might be redundant for you) ... basically, it became obvious as the end of the show neared that Jensen was not on board with the plan for the finale; although Jared never stopped singing its praises.

We got confirmation of this during a zoom interview where Jensen said that he actually went into the writers room as well as called Kripke to basically voice how he didn't agree with the direction the final season was going, but he was shot down on all fronts. In another interview, he was asked "What would you tell your younger self going into this career?" And Jensen responded with: "I would tell myself to just keep your head down and do the work" meaning, "Don't try to change things because you can't." I also think that this whole situation is what he wrote "Let Me Be" about for his first Radio Company album, but that is just my own speculation. All of his reluctance, even though he always followed it up with "But I eventually saw the value in the script" or "I came around in the end" (which never sounded sincere, and I don't think he was really trying to sound sincere) made us all very nervous about what was to come for 15x20; and of course, when the last two episodes aired, we saw just how badly they fucked it up.

After the awful finale, the entire fandom became aware of the CW's heavy handed role in the thing, basically squeezing all the life out of SPN to shape it into a ramp from which Walker could launch itself. They not only erased all the love and joy and representation that Cas's love confession gave us, they also tore apart the things that made sense about the bond between Sam and Dean, making it really just about Sam-- and therefore Jared, which of course, Jared seemed to be fine with ... even though no one else was. Misha barely said anything during the finale, and a few of the other actors talked about the show ending in various posts, but Jared tweeted up a storm ... and Jensen? Jensen just sat in sexy-silent resentment of the whole thing. He didn't tweet, he didn't post, he didn't say a word once he no longer had to, and I think that's because he was already going full-steam-ahead on his plans for redemption.

Which brings us to Chaos Machine-- Jensen and Danneel's new production company that is being run by a queer creative director and has a mantra of inclusivity and representation woven throughout it's fabric; and apparently, the first story that Jensen wanted to tell through this new platform is the origin story of Sam and Dean's parents; so last week (?) he announced the upcoming production of "The Winchesters" -- the untold love story of John and Mary. Obviously, John is not the most likable character from the show, so the idea was met with a lot of resentment when it was first announced, but Jensen has gone on to say that he is excited to take on the task of telling the "true" story behind these characters-- the one that makes sense with the pre-established canon and doesn't reject it. So, given that, the idea is being mulled over with a bit more optimism from the fandom.

Who isn't being optimistic though?

Jared Padalecki.

When Jensen made this announcement on Twitter, many of his friends and coworkers congratulated him, but not Jared. Jared responded with a passive aggressive: "I'm happy for you, man, but I wish I didn't hear about it through Twitter." This of course, sent all the die-hard Jared fans into a tizzy and they immediately began asking him if he was serious (hoping it was just a joke-- we all hoped it was because there would be fallout no matter what one's opinion on Jared is). Instead of leaving it there though or just deleting that tweet, Jared went on to tweet some more, saying that he was being serious that he didn't know about the plans for the prequel, and that he was "gutted" that Sam apparenlty wouldn't be included (mind you, this a prequel to SPN... meaning BEFORE Sam and Dean were even born, so how could Sam be included? But Dean is apparently narrating this story so maybe Jared thought Sam should be helping to narrate it? I don't know). But Jared being Jared couldn't just leave that there, he then went on to tweet at Robbie Thompson who was announced as a writer for "The Winchesters" so then Jared went off on him too, calling him "Brutus" and a "coward" acting like Robbie betrayed him (speculation is-- Robbie refused to write for Walker, so Jared is pissed that he essentially chose Jensen over him). He did fairly quickly, remove that tweet attacking Robbie, but of course the damage was done at that point. And it truly only took his first tweet calling out Jensen for some people to be like "Jared-- that sucks if you didn't know but why are you saying any of this publicly?"

As you might know, Jared has had issues in the past with posting hurtful things on social media, and has even used it as a tool for attack before-- calling out customer service agents and public workers that he felt have wronged him, which is bad enough ... but for him to then do the same thing to his best friend of well over a decade? Many people who had once liked him or at least gave him the benefit of the doubt (I used to ...) stopped after this latest twitter tantrum.

However, some people have suspected for some time that J2 had a falling out either shortly before the finale or just after. Their public/social media interactions have seemed awkward, stilted or even non-existent in moments that they normally wouldn't be. In the past year, when Walker premiered, Jensen didn't say much about his friend's new venture other than a "Congrats. buddy" here and there. Later, we learned that Jensen refused to work on the show ... Jared said he make him do it, drag Jensen to the set "kicking and screaming" which made many fans quirk up an eyebrow because, why would Jensen put up a fight unless the two weren't as close as they used to be? And then Jensen moved his family to Colorado (either permanently or for an extended period at least) which is notable considering how he moved to Texas seemingly to be closer to Jared, even buying a house that was near his. All this was just speculation though; but it wasn't until Jared's tweet complaining about not knowing about the prequel that the theories behind them falling out, became less theory and more fact.

The day after his twitter tantrum, Jared tweeted again-- not retracting his statements or apologizing, but instead saying that he and Jensen "talked" and were "all good". Jensen then tweeted too, parroting this statement to some degree, which only made the whole thing even more sour in the mouths of the fans. The fact that Jared didn't apologize for his outburst and throwing his friend under the bus, and also the fact that Jensen-- Mr. Sexy Silence, Mr. Never Tweets, Mr. Tech-Ignorant-and-Proud, actually had to POST SOMETHING saying that he and Jared made up, it just screamed OPTICS. It was obviously the work of agents and PR firms and lots of people going "Look, if you two keep beefing, that will mean the death of both of your projects. Even more people will stop watching Walker, and this SPN prequel will never get picked up due to the scandal." So, the two "made nice" publicly to quell the chaos, but in my opinion, it's all too little too late. Jared started a storm that he can't contain now with a little tweet, and it seems like he knows that too because before he talked about him and Jensen making up, he asked that people "not send threats". He could have just as easily said that he shouldn't have made this a public issue and that he's sorry, but instead, he continued to play the victim and stoke the flames by alerting us all to the damage he's done.

Now, like I said before-- I used to give him the benefit of the doubt. I don't think he's an awful human or that he deserves to be attacked or anything, but he is an adult man with very poor judgment and an obvious selfish-streak a mile wide. He should know better, and he should have more respect for his so-called "friends" and "brothers" than to make them targets to public ridicule. I have a hard time believing that Jensen still sees Jared the way he used to, and I wouldn't blame him a bit for wanting to pull away-- especially when he's moving on to so many new and exciting things. Jared certainly deserves happiness just as much as anyone else, but he went on twitter and basically asked for a scandal, and he got one.

The question is now-- was there a motive behind it? Was just looking for a reason to bring his and Jensen's falling out to light-- while making himself looking like the victim in the process? Or did he genuinely not know about the prequel and just decided to go about "not knowing" in the most toxic and hurtful way he could manage?

In any case, that is the drama ... that is the J2 insanity in a rather lengthy nutshell ... that is the tea ... and I hope it all makes sense.

But the good news out of all of this is, Cockles is thriving-- they are happy and in love and Jensen calls Misha "Babe" and Misha misses waking up to see Jensen in the morning, and they are just as cute and wonderful as can be.

So, I will end that there. I am so glad to see you back, and I hope I answered all your questions in a way that made sense ... I tried anyway!

💖💖💖

[dolliedarlin]

Hi I’m one of the anons who’s obsessing over the P.A series!!!!! For some reason my brain has been full w diff things that could happen IDKKK! Hope u don’t mind if I dump a few....

TW: this is A bunch of rambling and some grammar errors LMAO sorry

Idk y I c y/n having a stalker💀 this prob sounds rlly weird but hear me out. (To add drama, also I Lowkey wanna c Mina,Sero and kiri get mad idk y-)

Since we all know y/n is the baddest most sophisticated b*tch (sorry idk if I’m allowed to cuss or not LMAO) her Ex lover is still obsessed w her and thinks that they are soulmate even tho they obv aren’t. I feel like y/n knows he stalks her but she ignores it until it gets worst. Like he found out where she lives. (He finds out where she lives while she’s sick which is now loll)

Anyways I feel like Mina would be over at y/ns place and since she’s getting better they are In her living room talking abt who knows what and y/n gets a knock on her door she goes to open it and admittedly closes it looking shocked. Mina being a pro hero is  supposed to be able to read body language. Mina ask her if everything is Alr and y/n OFC (stupid a**) says yes. Mina didn’t want to keep pressing the issue so she dropped it until it became a reoccurring thing with y/n and it’s not just her that noticed. She (y/n) is extremely hesitant to open the door and when she does she opens it a little bit. (And then idk her EX does crazy like breaks into her apt and scares the sh** outa y/n) THIS IS WHERE MY BIG IDEA STOPS 😭😭😭😭😭😭 that was a lotta rambling my apologies

Have a great day dollie!

oh no! please don’t feel bad, it’s always fun for me seeing what you dolls would want to happen next

although i don’t plan on bringing any psycho exes into ‘the p.a’ series, as a writer and an avid daydreamer, i can’t help but play around with this idea 

warning: there are brief mentions of violence ; this is not a part of ‘the p.a’ series but is just a little thought that i just couldn’t help but try my own hand at also ; i didn’t edit this either 😂 so kindly forgive any grammatical/spelling mistakes 

continuing on from your idea...

⏤mina, having the sneaking suspicion that something bad might happen to you that night, notifies the rest of the group later on that day

⏤usually, bakugou was in charge of you during the night and always sat in a chair beside your bed on high alert, ready to serve your every need...

⏤BUT!

⏤now that mina told them about your suspicious behaviour, all of them were put on high alert. 

⏤they all agreed to keep you unaware of their intentions by having bakugou take care of you like usual but they made sure that when on the night patrol, they were close by with their radios on and constantly being hyper aware of the shortest route to your residence from wherever they were situated - just in case of an emergency 

⏤naturally, they trusted bakugou with keeping you safe but that didn’t mean that they had no worries for you at all 

⏤seeing as you usually feel asleep before bakugou switched with the sero, who took care of you in the late evening, you were under the impression that you were alone at home 

⏤your current condition disallowed you from comfortably staying awake so you were constantly tossing and turning in bed, brows furrowed and sweating more than usual

⏤”what is she dreaming about?” bakugou utters in frustration as he continues to wipe away the vastly accumulating sweat rom your wrinkled brows

⏤he wasn’t frustrated at you no no, he was annoyed at the fact that he couldn’t make you comfortable no matter how many wet towels he uses to cook your forehead or wipe your sweat clean off your skin 

⏤as the night progresses, you eventually fall into a dreamless sleep, far too exhausted to continue stressing over your ex with the added burden of your fever on your body

⏤nevertheless, bakugou continues being on high alert at all times except for when he momentarily leaves to room so as to go to the toilet 

⏤this was the perfect opportunity for your crazy ex to sneak into your room via the window bakugou left ajar so as to help cool you down better 

⏤your ex was a creepy and disgusting man - someone that you had grown to dislike the more you got to know him and naturally left as quickly as you were able to 

⏤what followed was harassment to the highest degree, thankfully you were able to protect yourself due to your self defence training and quirk, however, it didn’t take away the shuddering feeling of being watched constantly

⏤you grew paranoid and extremely fidgety over time and eventually filled for a restraining order. unfortunately, that didn’t work and left you to deal with the situation yourself

⏤you were naive enough to think that you had shaken him after a particularly horrible beating he took from you in self defence. he had come at you with a knife but you were able to disarm him and send him limping home with a dislocated arm, a black eye and a bruised ribcage 

⏤over time, you got busy with work and slowly forgot about him, it wasn’t until today that you were reminded of his crazy obsession with you and were thrown into a panic 

⏤believing that you were alone at night and in your most vulnerable state, you didn’t feel safe and sought to deal with the situation however you could, even in your dreams

⏤all attempts were in vain, however

⏤bakugou, returning from his momentary break to the toilet came back just in time to see your creepy ex hovering over your sleeping figure. as if you sensed the unpleasant existence stalking you, your body stiffened under the blankets and you began to breathe uncomfortably, beginning to sweat bucket-fulls once more

⏤not wanting to disturb your sleep as rest was the top priority for you, bakugou crept up from behind the unknown figure and instantly went for his neck, choking him into silence as he dragged his thrashing figure outside, far away from you all the while sending a emergency signal to the rest of the squad 

⏤in no time at all, the rest of the squad arrived and had your crazy ex cornered. at this time he had already been tied up by bakugou and was ready for a quick chat 

⏤”what the hell were you doing with our yn?” kirishima began, sharp teeth grinding together as he clenched his jaw 

⏤silence 

⏤”speak up, we can’t fucking hear you,” bakugou spat as the others glared on from beside him, their eyes piercing through the moonlight and darkness of the night 

⏤”y-yn isn’t yours - that’s the first thing,” your ex finally cracked, giggling creepily in between 

⏤”you’re right,” sero began, “yn doesn’t belong to anyone so why were did you break into her house,” it took everything in sero not to lash out but they needed answers

⏤”wrong again!” your ex sang, “she doesn’t belong to you, she belongs to me! i’m her boyfriend!”

⏤”yn doesn’t have a boyfriend,” kaminari spoke up

⏤”that’s right! and if she did, we would have known,” mina agreed

⏤“that’s because she doesn’t know it yet, we broke up but we’ll get back together again soon” the tied up man giggled to himself, “it’s only a matter of time before she realises her mistake and she comes back to me,” 

⏤the team of heroes didn’t know what to say, they were so shocked and appalled at what they were seeing and hearing that they couldn’t bring themselves to utter a single word of response, they only listened further

⏤”i hoped she’d come back soon, anyway...but i was getting impatient so i had to try and convince her a little more. she’s been ignoring my love for her all this time, she can’t continue rejecting me for long...” he laughs, “i bet she misses it”

⏤“miss what...?” bakugou didn’t want to know but it had to be said

⏤”i bet she misses being with me. she’s so beautiful and so soft to the touch, she always smells good too and she has such a lovely voice - i want her all to myself, she doesn’t deserve to be anybody else’s”

⏤it was then that the team of heroes just about lost their minds. the creep before them didn’t say anything explicit but the madness in his eyes and the harrowing smile he was displaying was off putting. they dread to imagine what a lowlife nasty sob like him put you through but they saw flashes of unforgivable scenes that sent all of them into insanity 

⏤someone so precious to them didn’t deserve any such treatment. you may not have disclosed anything to them strict on being professional but if this man was willing to break into your house...they were fearful to think about what else he was capable of

⏤he deserved a beating from that act alone, actually, and a beating he got

⏤they could’ve killed the guy - they were more than tempted to and it would have been so easy...but he deserved to suffer in jail for his crimes against you so they held back no matter how painful that was for them 

⏤the very next day, under their authority and recommendation, the man was locked up for as many years as they could tally up and seeing as they were heroes, they were able to look into his past documentations and found you had filed a restraining order for him under harassment, assault and a number of other things they grew all the more furious at the more the read

⏤they would prefer it if you didn’t realise what they did that night but the media couldn’t let the story of 5 high class pro heroes sending a singular, beaten man to jail for life

⏤your creepy ex’s battered photos were all over the news and you were so incredibly grateful  

[teacup-crow]

Maybe, Maybe, Maybe

Fun bit of survivors’ guilt for @badthingshappenbingo, based pretty heavily off Don’t Poke the Bear and Variations on a Theme. Post-finale.

They take it in turns to keep watch for when he wakes up: Doug, Reneé, Isabel, first names still such a novelty. Just his luck, he opens his eyes to the impassive face of Captain Lovelace.

“Hi, dickbag. Sore head?”

“Unnnnhh…” he whines as if he’s lying under a ton of rocks rather than a cosy quilt on Renee’s living room floor. His face is a patchwork of bruising. “Aspirin?”

She takes pity, and passes him two and a glass of water. The sitting up takes longer than he thought it would.

“You look terrible. Lucky for you, Renee makes a mean chilli con carne. Never would have guessed she could cook.”

“No thanks, I should, should be going-”

“You need food in your system, that’s non-negotiable. First thing’s first, though, you’re having a shower, and you either go willingly or get dragged bodily, because you goddamn stink. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbles automatically, and he remembers the Colonel - Warren? Was it on a day he could call him Warren? - once saying something similar and his head pounds. ((“mr jacobi, of all the irresponsible, stupid shit i have seen from you this really takes the-“))

“Bathroom’s on the second floor, just past the master bedroom. Dominick put a pile of clean clothes in there before he left for work. And it’s Isabel, okay? Not sir. Not Captain. Never again.”

***

“Who did this to you?”

He grips his mug of sweet tea like it’s thousand dollar whiskey. He’s still ashen. “I did this to me.”

“You beat the shit out of yourself? Okay, yeah. Don’t buy that one.” Isabel repeats the question. “Who did this to you?”

“Just some guys I pissed off. I don’t know how many. I don’t know who. Happy now?”

The room goes silent. Isabel continues:

“And did you go provoking them deliberately?”

Not for the first time, Renee wonders whether they should have included Doug in this little intervention. He’s been through so much just like the rest of them, but he doesn’t know it, and he’s clearly freaking out at the situation.

“Why would he want something like that to happen? He looks terrible!”

“I don’t know, Doug,” Isabel says levelly. “Care to answer, Jacobi?”

He’s not on a first name basis, apparently.

“Not… I didn’t... no. No, no, no. I was too drunk and… picking fights, but suddenly there were too many of them, okay? But I got out. And if I want to drink then that’s my own problem, so thank you for the hospitality but-“

Renee cuts in there. “When you drink yourself into a stupor, get attacked by a gang in a back alley, and stumble into my doorway at 0300 hours after six months of radio silence, it becomes our problem.” Her look of pity makes his stomach churn even more than the chilli did. He breathes in, hold, out; in, hold, out; in-((alana’s breathing technique and why why why is she everywhere in everything why does he have to see her out of the corner of his eye when it’s been so long he can’t properly remember her face-))

“Fine. What do you want from me?”

“You are a good man and you saved every single one of our lives and we need to understand why you’re so intent on throwing yours away.”

Jacobi starts laughing then, guttural laughs that worsen the ache in his head and bones but he can’t seem to stop them. “...me? I’m a good man? Oh my God, Lieutenant, that’s hilarious. Give us another.”

“You need to take this seriously! This is a form of self harm! You could have died!” Isabel is pacing up and down. She and Renee do good cop, bad cop like it’s a professional sport.

“Boo fucking hoo. And the world would forever be worse off for my passing.”

Isabel stops, and turns back towards him with some heat in her gaze. “I have lost too many crew members who deserved to die far less than you do. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? Do you need me to reconfirm that you are a an asshole? Do you need to hear about how Fisher, and Hui, and Fourier, and Lambert were all far better people than you will ever, ever be? Or will you accept that you are good in there? That deep down you’re on the right-“

“We burned their letters.” He’s staring at the duvet he’s wrapped in, running his finger over the flowers on the pattern. “Okay? Still think I’m a good person?”

“...wait. What?” She laughs a little, in shock perhaps. “But you told me…”

“I told you what I needed to tell you to make you trust me. We burned your crew’s letters. Lambert’s… I remember those especially. His hands were shaking really hard when he wrote them, weren’t they.”

It’s not a question.

Isabel stops pacing, and Jacobi grins again but it doesn’t reach his bruised eyes when he looks up at her. “More than mine, even. You could tell he was sick. They didn’t make any sense. We laughed at them. The irony of a Communications Officer who can’t communicate. Are you listening to me? We read their letters and we burned them and we laughed about it-“

Renee loses her softness. “Jacobi, that is enough!”

Isabel has a hand on her chest as if something has hit her there. She counts to ten in her head, ((fisher’s technique to try and stop her fighting with sam, never worked but still stuck in her head, or this copy of her head, or whoever she is now-)) and leaves the room.

They hear her slamming drawers in the kitchen.

Doug glances at Jacobi and shakes his head, before hurrying after her.

“How could you,” Reneé says. “How could you.”

“I don’t know. Will you let me go and ruin my own life now?”

“Never,” she replies. “Because, God help me, you’re still a member of my crew.”

At that, his eyes prick with tears he can’t explain. He rolls over on the air bed, and closes them.

***

“Lovelace?” Jacobi finally makes himself walk into the kitchen, grimacing like each step is on hot sand. The words are monotone. “I’m so sorry. What I did and said is... inexcusable.”

“Nope. That’s too large a word for your vocabulary. Come back to me with an apology Renée didn’t script,” Isabel snaps, going back to scribbling in a sketchbook.

“Look, I’m not much good at this-“

“You’re telling me.”

“I’m… really used to people yelling at me and hitting me until they feel better. Or you can shoot me if you like!”

“Jesus. Well, I am not about to do that to ease your guilt. You look like you’d snap if one more person poked you. So apologise properly.”

“I’m sorry…”

“For?” Isabel prompts over the top of her book.

“I’m sorry for burning your crew’s letters.”

“You did what you were ordered to do. It is what it is. I’m not condoning it.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Jacobi realises she’s waiting for him to continue. “And… I’m sorry for bringing it up. That was… needlessly cruel. It sucked.”

“It really did,” she replies, putting the book down. “Tell you what: that sounded somewhat genuine, and Goddard brought out the shit in all of us. You look so pathetic, I’m going to forgive you. Not because you deserve it, but because I don’t bear grudges. Not anymore.”

She holds out a hand, and he shakes it. “Thank you.”

“Wow. That actually hurt for you to say.”

Jacobi nods. He sits down across from her at Renée’s huge darkwood table, and thinks about how she and Dominick must have bought this when they moved in together with plans to have people over for dinner every other night. Maybe even plans to have kids.

He wonders if Dominick ate at it alone while his wife was gone.

“So, you gone on that holiday yet?”

“No, actually. I’ve legally been dead for about seven years, so getting a passport is proving pretty tricky.”

“I can imagine.”

“Where have you been, anyway? We tried to get into contact with you. We drove down to your old apartment - got your address from the Goddard database - but it was cleaned out.”

Jacobi looks sheepish. “Yeah, well, I’d mostly been staying at Alana’s for the last few years or overnight at… yeah… so I’d not been a very good tenant and turns out they took ‘lost in space’ as the perfect opportunity to kick me out. So I’ve been sofa to sofa, on the streets a bit-”

“For heaven’s sake, Jacobi. We would have helped you, you stupid asshole! All you had to do was ask and you could have stayed here! Renee and Dominick would probably even let you have a cheese collection or whatever the fuck it was.”

“Guess the amount of drinks it takes for me to lose my pride is somewhere over eighteen?”

“How do you have a functioning liver?”

They sit in an almost comfortable silence for a few minutes, Isabel reopening her sketchbook.

“I never knew you drew.”

“You never knew me outside of a life-threatening situation.” Isabel sighs, twists the pencil between her fingers. “I don’t think I did. Before. The old ‘me’, I mean. But I was bored and I can’t get a job because of the ‘being dead’ issue, so I thought I should take up a hobby or something. Might be therapeutic. I’m not very good at it…”

“Can I see?”

“I, uh,” Isabel suddenly looks uncertain. “I drew her. Maxwell. I drew everyone, actually. Are you sure you want to look?”

“Yes.”

He leafs through the pages, at first simple doodles before branching into full portraits. Eiffel, upside down and smoking a cigarette. Hilbert, looking troubled at a shadow behind him he can’t quite see. Two ghostlike figures in lab coats staring out at the star, the man with a prophetic terror etched on his face - must be Isabel’s old crewmates. Mr Cutter smiles up at him with far too many sharp teeth in sharper lines where the pencil was pressed far too hard and he turns the page quickly. There’s Kepler, mid-whiskey speech and it almost stops his heart. He pauses. Maxwell.

In the picture, her eyes are shining as she stares at Hera’s console, fingers nothing more than a blur - the three-day stint she spent trying to get the AI online. Aside from the orange and blue of Wolf 359, elsewhere in the book Isabel has barely used colour, but here the room is bathed in a serene green light from the screens. Behind Maxwell, Jacobi sees himself, little more than a stocky, sketchy outline, waiting for her to finish.

He looks so proud of her.

He looks so… content.

After staring for a long moment, Jacobi closes the book and hands it back. “Thank you.”

“You can keep the pictures of them, if you like,” Isabel offers, but he doesn’t know whether he would like, so he says:

“Tell me about your crew.”

“What?”

“Your old crew. Tell me about them. Was Lambert the one staring at...?”

“No. No. No, that was Kuan Hui, our senior astrophysicist. He was whipsmart and funny and fearless, until the time Goddard Futuristics played around in his brain, stretched out his perception of time. He was completely alone in the dark for two weeks. His smile never really reached his eyes after that.”

Jacobi sips tea awkwardly, even though it’s cold.

“Something like that, it stays with you. At least he had Fourier, though.”

“That’s the woman behind him?”

“Junior physicist. Victoire Fourier had eyes like stars. Cleverest person I’ve ever met. She played six instruments, spoke four languages and she had the most gentle soul. She used to read to Hui when he got sick with Decima. Coughed up every organ in his body. I thought it would break her, but she was made of stern stuff. She vanished off the space station in the final days and I still don’t know what exactly happened to her-”

“I… do. If you want to know, I mean.”

Isabel shakes her head. Then pauses. Then shakes her head again. “I get the feeling whoever is to blame is long gone.”

Jacobi shrugs. “Who else?”

“Well, there was Mace Fisher. Fisher… Fisher died because of me, not Goddard Futuristics. Asteroid shower tore him from my hands. He had a boyfriend waiting at home. He was sensitive, sensible, grounding. A real older brother type. I- I didn’t deal particularly well with his death. Well, you know that much.”

((Pill popper!)) Jacobi gulps more cold tea.

“And Lambert?”

“Sam Lambert. Officer Samuel Lambert had a stick up his ass. He was whiny, and authoritarian, and he treasured his copy of Pryce and Carter more than Reneé and Kepler combined did. He drove me nearly insane, and I drove him likewise. The best second in command you could ask for. A damn good man. Sam got sick after Hui, so we knew what was coming. What it meant. He was brave, though. At first.”

((“C-Captain, please shoot me, please, it hurts, it hurts, Captain, please, I just want it to-”)

She falters.

“Lovelace?”

“Yup?”

“You know, it’s not even really about the Hephaestus. I keep… it’s insane, but I keep thinking about… I was an explosives guy for the Air Force. Before Goddard. A trigger failed and two men died. Andrews and Sullivan. I haven’t thought about them in years and suddenly-“

“They’re everywhere?”

There’s a sudden understanding between them.

“They’re everywhere. Them and Maxwell and Kepler. They’re in mirrors, in the back of my brain, around corners.”

“Flashes of them.”

“And if you just reach out far enough, maybe-“

“Maybe-“

“Maybe.”

((let’s go be monsters)), Jacobi’s brain echoes. He grits his teeth.

“Did it stop for you? When does it stop?” He finds himself asking. Isabel doesn’t answer.

[easily-infatuated23]

Over Protective

Request: Could do image were she dating Dustin in secret and her sibling is Steve Harrington. She sneaks out to see Dustin and then she come back to see Steve sitting on her bed then Steve spots a few hickeys on her neck and he asks her about and she denies it. Then Steve calls robin because he freaking out. He invite her over and Dustin for like a dinner then he see them on Dustin’s neck. Then start being like an over protective brother and talking to them about it. ~anonymous 

a/n: thank you so much for your request anon! it’s my first request so i hope you enjoy! i also aged up Dustin to be 16 bc i felt weird writing this with him being like 13. enjoy!

pairing: Dustin Henderson x Harrington!Reader x Steve Harrington

word count: 1.9k

summary: Steve is overly protective of his little sister and when he sees a hickey on her, he’s furious

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

Y/N hated sneaking around. When she and Dustin started dating, Dustin had suggested they keep it a secret. It’s not that he was embarrassed or wanted to hide it but they didn’t want their friends to tease them (especially Max and Lucas), but also because of Y/N’s brother. Being Steve Harrington’s younger sister meant that he was super over protective, especially when it came to dating. Steve knew what guys could be like so he made sure that he kept boys away from her. “I’m sixteen now Stevie” she began. “I am old enough to start dating. Besides, you didn’t act like this when Mike and Eleven got together” she finished, crossing her arms angrily. “Thats different!” Steve replied. “You are my baby sister and I don’t want anybody to…corrupt you!” Y/N laughed. “Corrupt me?! You are worse than dad!” “No boys until you’re thirty, and thats final!” he said, pointing an accusatory finger at her. She rolled her eyes and stomped up the stairs to her bedroom, slamming the door after her. No matter how annoyed she was, even an argument with her brother was not going to ruin this day for her. It was her and Dustin’s two month anniversary. Although it wasn’t a super long time to be with someone, it was still a big deal for her because it was her first relationship.

“Hey I procrastinated doing my English essay for Mr. Hartman so I’m gonna be in my room trying to do it so don’t bother me” Y/N called down the stairs to her brother. “Yup got it” Steve replied, not looking up from the TV. Brilliant. With Steve distracted and her alibi set, she could sneak out to go meet Dustin. She ran back up to her room and changed into her favorite pair of jeans, t-shirt and a red sweater, and sneakers. She carefully opened her window and climbed out, standing on the sloped roof beneath her. She propped the window open with her Science textbook and climbed down. She then hopped on her bike and rode to Dustin’s house. When she was half way there she realized she had forgotten to lock her door. “No matter,” she thought. “Steve is so engrossed in his TV show he won’t check on me for at least four hours”.

Once she arrived, she hopped of her bike and climbed up to Dustin’s window. She knocked on it lightly. Moments later, the curly haired boy appeared at the window, smiling. He opened the window for her and helped her climb in. Dustin turned on the radio and the two began laughing and talking, simply enjoying each other’s company. After a while, the two began to get a bit hot and heavy and started making out. They hadn’t gone much further than this and Dustin respected her decision to wait. Besides, he was enjoying being with a girl as beautiful, smart, and funny as Y/N Harrington. “You are incredible, you know that?” he said to her as they pulled away. She smiled and shook her head. “How did I get so lucky?” The two smiled at each other for another few moments before Dustin’s face dropped. “Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit I’m sorry” he said, panic filling his voice. “What? What is is?” Y/N said, sitting up. “I left a pretty obvious mark on your neck. I swear I didn’t mean to” he said. She stood up and went over to a mirror on the other side of his room. Sure enough, a purple mark was appearing on her neck. She pulled her shirt down and counted two more, each more purple than the last. “Shit” she said. “I can hide the ones on my chest but this guy,” she said pointing to the love bite her neck, “no way”.

She turned to face the boy and started to laugh a bit. “Why are you laughing?! If Steve sees it he’ll kill you! Oh my god what if he finds out it was me?” he said, even more panicked than before. “He probably will babe, but, you aren’t exactly mark free either”. He went pale and joined her at the mirror, examining his neck. “I’ll just wear a turtle neck tomorrow or cover it with makeup. It’ll be fine” She looked at her watch. 8 o’clock. Damn. “Hey I gotta get home. I only give Steve like a four hour window of focus on that TV before he comes to check on me. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow” Dustin said, giving her a hug and kissing her sweetly. Little did Y/N know, Steves focus had worn off much sooner than she had anticipated.

At 7:30, Steve got bored of whatever dumb program had started, and decided to go check on his sister. She usually talked to herself when she did homework and it had been unusually quiet in her room. He walked up the stairs and knocked on her door. There was no reply. He knocked again. “Hey Y/N, you alright in there?”. He was puzzled. He opened her door and was shocked to find her room empty. “Are you trying to play a prank on me? Are you gonna jump out of the closet or something?” Still no response. Then he spotted it. The textbook in the window. A classic Harrington move. Steve couldn’t believe it. His little sister had really snuck out and he hadn’t noticed! He decided he would sit on her bed and wait for her to sneak back in. He waited about thirty minutes before he heard the breathless girl climbing up the side of the house.

When she reached the window and opened it, her heart dropped into her stomach. “What do you think you are doing?” Steve said, pulling his little sister back into her room. “What are you doing in my room?” she retorted. “My question first” he said. Thinking on her toes, Y/N came up with a lie to explain her disappearance. “I wanted to hang out with Max and Elle without you breathing down my neck okay!” she said. She suddenly remembered that her hickey was visible above her sweater and covered her neck with her hand as casually as possible. “Hey, hey what are you hiding?” He moved her hand and felt his face go red. “What is that?!” he boomed. She pushed him away, trying to come up with another lie. “Get off! It’s just a curling iron burn! The girls were curling their hair and when I went to try I burned myself!” That made sense right? Steve squinted at her suspiciously. He knew a hickey when he saw one. “I am gonna find out who did this and I’m gonna kill them” Steve said. “I told you it’s a burn! Now get out of my room!” She yelled, pushing her older brother out of the door. “Just tell me his name!” Steve shouted. She slammed the door in his face. Steve was fuming. They had the boyfriends argument before but this was a new level. Steve did the only thing he could think of. He called his best friend Robin.

“Hey Popeye” Robin said. “Whats going-” “No time Robin, we have an issue” Steve interrupted. “What is it Harrington?” she said. “I caught Y/N sneaking back into her room through a window and she had a hickey! What am I going to do?! I need your help to figure out who the hell did this to my baby sister!” There was a moment of silence and then laughter from Robin. “First of all, relax. It’s just a hickey. You were probably like ten when you had your first one so get some perspective” “I was twelve” he said. “Don’t interrupt me” she continued. “Secondly, why do you care? She’s sixteen now. You have to loosen up.” Steve sighed. “I guess you’re right”. “Also I know who she’s dating”. “What?!” Steve shouted. “Tell me now!” “Fine fine don’t get your panties in a twist” Robin said. “But you have to promise not to do anything drastic.” “Fine fine I promise just tell me”. He said. “Henderson” she said. Steve was silent. Henderson?! Of all people she chose Henderson! I guess it wasn’t as bad as he had expected, after all, he liked Dustin. “What are you gonna do Steve? I can hear your brain exploding” she said. She was met with more silence. “Just invite him over and talk to him or something. Just don’t make it weird.” “Right yeah thanks Robin. I’ll see you tomorrow” he said, hanging up the phone. Thats what he would do. He would invite Dustin over tomorrow and interrogate him.

The next day he called the Henderson house. “Hey Dustin it’s Steve” “Oh uh hey Steve, what’s up?” Dustin’s voice was squeaky. Got him. “I need your help with something and I need you to come over.” “Oh yeah uh sure I’ll see you in a few hours and-” “No,” Steve interrupted. “I need your help now, I’ll see you in twenty minutes.” “Okay”. Dustin’s voice was quiet and his nervousness could be felt through the phone. When Dustin finally got to the house, Steve met him at the door. “Henderson, I’m so glad you could come over” Steve said coldly. Dustin didn’t speak as he entered the house. Steve glared at him. “So what did you need my help with?” Dustin asked cautiously. “I need help understanding what the hell you are doing with my sister.” Steve said. His arms were crossed and he stood blocking the door, blocking any hope of escape for Dustin. “Hey Stevie who’s at the door?” Y/N asked, having heard the knock from her room. “Oh hey Dustin what’s up?” she said casually. “Oh no no you aren’t fooling me” Steve said. “I wanna know what’s going on here” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Did you call Robin last night? Damn I knew I shouldn’t have told her.” She finished walking down the stairs and stepped beside Dustin, clasping his hand in hers. “No no no, none of that” Steve said, trying to break them apart. “Steve relax seriously, you are way too worked up about this” Y/N said. Steve sighed. “I just don’t want you to get hurt” he said. She let go of Dustin’s hand and put her hands on Steve’s shoulders. “I know that but this whole over protective brother act is suffocating”. Steve nodded. “If it helps, I have no intention of breaking up with Y/N and honestly, the past two months have been some of the happiest months of my life” Dustin added. Steve looked up at him suddenly. “TWO MONTHS??” he yelled. He lunged at Dustin, Y/N stepping between them before they collided.“Woah Stevie, chill take a deep breath”. She pushed him back.

“Okay okay I can deal with this, this is fine” Steve muttered under his breath. “But, we need to make some ground rules. No closed doors and no sneaking anybody in anywhere. You come in through the front door and make your presence known!” Steve said, pointing towards the door. The two teens nodded. “Okay…” Steve ran his hand through his hair. “I think I can get behind this but I’m gonna need some time to process.” He lowered himself down onto the couch. Y/N and Dustin looked at each other with smirking expressions. “Okay Steve…you just take your time. We’ll just be upstairs.” Y/N said, slowly leading Dustin upstairs. “Yeah…okay…but I want that door open!” He yelled after them. The two teens laughed and ran the rest of the way up the stairs. Steve shook his head. “Crazy kids” he said, chuckling a bit as he realized he was glad that if his sister had to date anyone, it would be Dustin Henderson.

[upside-down-uni]

Hey! Idk if this is too much t9 ask, but could you rec me 2, 19, 20, 45, 55, 63, 69, 71, 72, 75, 86, 104, 111, 116, 131? sorry if it’s a lot but thanks in advance if u can rec me some! :)

Hi, you're in luck! I have an essay to procrastinate on and this ask is just the right thing to distract me! Here you go, I hope you'll find something that you like:

2. a book with a blue cover

Radio Silence by Alice Oseman. When i read it for the first time I was just on the brink of going to uni, still figuring out what I even wanted to study and this book just wrapped me in a warm blanket and said "it's going to be okay". I love the main characters Frances and Aled, their arcs and especially the really nice and quiet queer rep in this book.

19. a book that put you in a reading slump

The Knife Of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness. When I start a book I generally have the feeling that I can't put it away until I have finished it. With The Knife Of Never Letting Go my problem was that I did want to read it but it didn't fit my mood, so I couldn't bring myself to read it but also beat myself up about not reading it until I put it back onto my shelf. So, I basically pushed myself into a reading slump over this book.

21. a book with a red cover

Honey Girl by Morgan Rogers. I enjoyed this book so much but probably not for the reasons most people would think I enjoyed it? The wlw romance was definitely nice and I really liked them being dramatic but also kind of mundane? What really got me though was the strong theme of found family of young adults and queer friendships, that really yanked the yearning hours wide fucking open for me. (I also liked that in the end the book wasn't as much about romance as it was about finding yourself after surrendering yourself to academia for ages and working through your issues.)

45. a book featuring the friends to lovers trope

The Priory Of The Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon. I adore this book. It's so long and there's so much incredible world building and history in it that it made reading an untter delight! Coming in it was a bit hard to acclimate to the slow paste but after a while I just settled in and enjoyed the ride. It's a breathtaking story in a breathtaking universe and afaik there's a second part coming!

55. a book with a satisfying ending

Yolk by Mary H. K. Choi. Yolk doesn't really have an ending in the sense of a "happily ever after" but I really loved where the author chose to leave the characters and how she did it. The book is quite different from what I usually read, tonewise, but especially that ending made me leave the book with a warm feeling. (also the cover is yellow and really really gorgeous)

63. a book that actually made you laugh out loud

I would've reccd Red White and Royal Blue but judging by your url you've read that already...sooooo, it's Snapdragon by Kat Leyh! Super cute graphic novel, with a weird and adorable storyline and such lovable characters!

69. your favorite mythological retelling

I haven't read a mythological retelling in ages, so basic Percy Jackson by Rick Riordan will have to do.

71. your favorite LGBTQ+ fiction

now that's just rude how am I supposed to choose?? I'll say it's Every Heart A Doorway by Seanan McGuire and Gideon The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir and Loveless by Alice Oseman. I feel very strongly and very distinctly about all of them, if you can get your hands on them my only comment is READ. (and maybe make sure you're okay with gothic sci-fi horror for Gideon The Ninth)

72. a book with a gorgeous cover

Plain Bad Heroines by Emily M. Danforth. It's her adult gothic horror debut after The Miseducation of Cameron Post and not only is the hardcover just stunning in black and red, it also got illustrations inside!! (And all teh women are queer and it's deliciously fucked up!)

75 a book featuring the I'm not like other girls trope

I think the closest I can come to that is The Lady's Guide To Piracy and Petticoats by Mackenzi Lee. The main character has to unlearn a bunch of stuff really fast if she wants to get along with the only other people that will help her. We have road trips in the 16th century, kidnapping and asshole husbands to be, piracy of course and friendship!

86. a book with an insane plot twist

Sawkill Girls by Claire Legrand. Sawkill Girls was my first touch with horror and I have to say I have no idea whether there was heavy foreshadowing. I think I remember thinking that there was something else to come but when the shit hit the fan I just sat there with big questionmarks over my head because I had read the book in a frenzy in one evening and truly did NOT anticipate it. As someone who did not read horror or thriller before this I have to say I was already insanely confused and disgusted by a bunch of stuff that went down. But then...uh. the thing happened and I was just lost. (In a good way though.)

104. a fluffy sweet read

Let's Talk About Love by Claire Kann. It's been a while ever since I read it but it's essentially a cute summer story about Alice who's a disaster bisexual when she sees people she finds cute. Which is a little inconvenient because the new guy at her job is really, really, really extremely cute and she ceases to function around him. There's best friend drama, eating pizza iirc and figuring shit out!

111. a book writing a book

I assume it's either "a book about writing a book" or I am literally supposed to rec a book that is writing a book...I'm going to rec a book that is about books! (because I can.) It's The Girl Who Reads on the Métro by Christine Féret-Fleury and it follows a young woman called Juliette wo gets sucked into an old bookseller's world of life saving, life changing books. A really quiet, really cute book.

116. a book with multiple povs

the Reckless books by Cornelia Funke! Simply divine stroytelling, a vibrant world and amazing characters! I have to say that I only know the German original so I don't know what the English translation might be like.

131. recommend any book you like

um. so knife gang members and people who follow my main, you'll once again be subjected to me being a mess because of lesbian necromancers in space! I've mentioned it before, it lives in my head rent free, it is the one, the only Gideon The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir! It's an insane sci-fi horror fantasy blend where Gideon has to play cavalier to Reverend Daughter Harrowhark I-love-being- an-absolute-pain-in-the-ass-to-Gideon Nonagesimus to help her become an uber-necromancer (like Harrow needs motivation to become even more of a nerd and shockingly good at necromancy) for the Necrolord Prime/Undying Emperor. There's BEAUTIFUL WRITING sprinkled with MEMES when you least expect it. There is incredible toxic codependency and repression. There's MURDER. There's fancy necromancy theorems and DUELS. There's enemies to begrudging allies to ??? Staple your socks to your feet or this book will blow them clean off!

[blackwoolncrown]

The defining feature of conversation is the expectation of a response. It would just be a monologue without one. In person, or on the phone, those responses come astoundingly quickly: After one person has spoken, the other replies in an average of just 200 milliseconds.

In recent decades, written communication has caught up—or at least come as close as it’s likely to get to mimicking the speed of regular conversation (until they implant thought-to-text microchips in our brains). It takes more than 200 milliseconds to compose a text, but it’s not called “instant” messaging for nothing: There is an understanding that any message you send can be replied to more or less immediately.

But there is also an understanding that you don’t have to reply to any message you receive immediately. As much as these communication tools are designed to be instant, they are also easily ignored. And ignore them we do. Texts go unanswered for hours or days, emails sit in inboxes for so long that “Sorry for the delayed response” has gone from earnest apology to punchline.

People don’t need fancy technology to ignore each other, of course: It takes just as little effort to avoid responding to a letter, or a voicemail, or not to answer the door when the Girl Scouts come knocking. As Naomi Baron, a linguist at American University who studies language and technology, puts it, “We’ve dissed people in lots of formats before.” But what’s different now, she says, is that “media that are in principle asynchronous increasingly function as if they are synchronous.”

The result is the sense that everyone could get back to you immediately, if they wanted to—and the anxiety that follows when they don’t. But the paradox of this age of communication is that this anxiety is the price of convenience. People are happy to make the trade to gain the ability to respond whenever they feel like it.

While you may know, rationally, that there are plenty of good reasons for someone not to respond to a text or an email—they’re busy, they haven’t seen the message yet, they’re thinking about what they want to say—it doesn’t always feel that way in a society where everyone seems to be on their smartphone all the time. A Pew survey found that 90 percent of cellphone owners “frequently” carry their phone with them, and 76 percent say they turn their phone off “rarely” or “never.” In one small 2015 study, young adults checked their phones an average of 85 times a day. Combine that with the increasing social acceptability of using your smartphone when you’re with other people, and it’s reasonable to expect that it probably doesn’t take that long for a recipient to see any given message.

“You create for people an environment where they feel as though they could be responded to instantaneously, and then people don’t do that. And that just has anxiety all over it,” says Sherry Turkle, the director of the Initiative on Technology and Self at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

It’s anxiety-inducing because written communication is now designed to mimic conversation—but only when it comes to timing. It allows for a fast back-and-forth dialogue, but without any of the additional context of body language, facial expression, and intonation. It’s harder, for example, to tell that someone found your word choice off-putting, and thus to correct it in real-time, or try to explain yourself better. When someone’s in front of you, “you do get to see the shadow of your words across someone else’s face,” Turkle says.

In last month’s viral New Yorker short story “Cat Person,” a young woman embarks on a failed romantic relationship with a man she meets at the movie theater where she works. They only go on one date in the story; they get to know each other primarily over text. When the affair ends messily, it reveals not only how the bubble of romantic expectations can be popped by reality’s needle, but also how weak digital communication is as a scaffolding on which to build an understanding of another person.

In an interview, the story’s author, Kristen Roupenian, said the piece was inspired by “the strange and flimsy evidence we use to judge the contextless people we meet outside our existing social networks, whether online or off.” Indeed, even for the people we already know, we increasingly rely on contextless forms of communication. This puts an unusually large burden on the words themselves (and maybe some emojis) to convey what is meant. And each message, and each pause in between messages, takes on outsize importance.

“Text messages become marks on rocks to be analyzed and sweated over,” Turkle says.

It’s not always easy to figure out what someone meant to convey by using a certain emoji, or by waiting three days to text you back. Different people have different ideas about how long it’s appropriate to wait to respond. As Deborah Tannen, a linguist at Georgetown University, wrote in The Atlantic, the signals that are sent by how people communicate online—the “metamessages” that accompany the literal messages—can easily be misinterpreted:

Human beings are always in the business of making meaning and interpreting meaning. Because there are options to choose from when sending a message, like which platform to use and how to use it, we see meaning in the choice that was made. But because the technologies, and the conventions for using them, are so new and are changing so fast, even close friends and relatives have differing ideas about how they should be used. And because metamessages are implied rather than stated, they can be misinterpreted or missed entirely.

This metamessage opacity spawns thousands of other text messages a year, as people enlist their friends to help interpret exactly what their romantic interest meant by a certain turn of phrase, or whether a week-long radio silence means they’re being ghosted. (The New Yorker parodied this collaborative textual analysis in a video in which a group of women gather, war-room style, to answer the question “Was It a Date?”)

Features intended to add clarity—like read receipts or the little bubble with the ellipses in iMessage that tells you when someone is typing (which is apparently called the “typing awareness indicator”)—often just cause more anxiety, by offering definitive evidence for when someone is ignoring you or started to reply only to put it off longer.

* * *

But just because people know how stressful it can be to wait for a reply to what they thought would be an instant message doesn’t mean they won’t ignore others’ messages in turn.

Sometimes people don’t respond as a way of deliberately signaling they’re annoyed, or that they don’t want to continue a relationship. Turkle says sometimes taking a long time to write back is a way of establishing dominance in a relationship, by making yourself look simply too busy and important to reply.

But oftentimes, people are just trying to manage the quantity of messages and notifications they receive. In 2015, the average American was receiving 88 business emails per day, according to the market research firm Radicati, but only sending 34 business emails per day. Because—who has the time to respond to 88 emails a day? Maybe someone isn’t responding because they’ve realized the interruption of a notification negatively affects their productivity, so they’re ignoring their phone to get some work done.

I find myself ignoring or procrastinating even important messages, and ones I want and intend to respond to. I had to create a bright red “Needs Response” email label to battle my own “delayed response” problem. I regularly read texts, think “I’ll respond to that later,” and then completely forget about it.  Working memory—the brain’s mental to-do list—can only hold so much at once, and when notifications get crammed in with shopping lists and work tasks, sometimes it springs a leak.

“A lot of the time what’s happening is people have five conversations going on, and they just can’t really be intimate and present with five different people,” Turkle says. “So they kind of do a triage, they prioritize, they forget. Your brain is not a perfect instrument for processing texts. But it will be interpreted as though it really was a conversation, and so you can hurt people.”

* * *

Still, even though instant written communication can be overwhelming and anxiety-inducing, people prefer it. Americans spend more time texting than talking on the phone, and texting is the most frequent form of communication for Americans under 50.

While texting is popular worldwide, Baron, of American University, thinks that a strong preference for communication that can be easily ignored is a particularly American attitude. “Americans have far fewer manners in general in their communication than a lot of other societies,” she says. “The second issue is a real feeling of empowerment. I think we have become a version of power freaks, not just control freaks.”

In a survey Baron conducted in 2007 and 2008 of students in several countries including the United States, the things that people said they liked most about their phones were often related to control. One American woman said her favorite thing was “Constant communication when I want it (can also shut it off when I don’t).”

“What I have seen in this country, and I don’t know if it’s a national trait, is people wait until they think they have the perfect thing to say, as though relationships can be managed by writing the perfect thing,” Turkle says. “And I think that is something we pay a very high cost for.”

In Baron’s survey, people also mentioned feeling controlled by their phones—bemoaning how dependent they were on the devices, and how the constant connectivity made them feel obligated to respond.

But texts and emails don’t create as big of an obligation as phone calls, or a face-to-face conversation. When young adults are interviewed about why they don’t like making phone calls, they cite a distaste for how “invasive” they are, and a reluctance to place that burden on someone else. Written instant messages create a smokescreen of plausible deniability if someone doesn’t feel like responding, which can be relieving for the hider, and frustrating for the seeker.

More than anything, what the age of instant communication has enabled is the ability to deal with conversation on our own terms. We can respond right away, we can put it off for two days, or never get around to it at all. We can manage several different conversations at once. “Sorry, I was out with friends,” we might say, as an excuse for not texting someone back. Or, “Sorry, I just need to text this person back real quick,” we might say while out with friends.

As these things become normal, it creates an environment where we are only comfortable asking for slivers of people’s distracted time, lest they ever obligate us to give them our full and undivided attention.

[thehandleisjammed]

Hi! Still here, still breathing

Okay, so, let’s get the obvious out of the way first and foremost. Hi! I’m still alive and well (well, getting better), and I hope the same can be said for all of you out there.

I truly am sorry if I worried anyone with my impromptu five months of radio silence. If you’ll permit me a few minutes of your time, here is an explanation.

This absence is not altogether unusual for me, personally speaking. This may sound weird, but bear with me. When I was younger, I developed this habit where if I would duck out of any close friend groups I’d made, be they on line or in person. Why? Well I’m still figuring it out but I believe it was usually because one of a couple of reasons. The long and short of it was that I was overwhelmed, specifically with… well, how nice people were and how we got along. So much sincere positivity was terrifying at times. I would panic and run away from the situation, rather than wait for something to take it away.

Drifting constantly away was a pattern that was familiar, rinse and repeat, a sure fire way to not mess up a new perfect friendship. The funny thing is, as much as it hurt to leave them, to cling on to loneliness like a life preserver, the regret would fade. Additionally, when I met back up with old friends down the road, I’d find that they were moving on with their lives and, while they were happy to see me again, none were concerned about my well-being to the point of consistently checking up on me. Who knows, maybe they did, and I was too good at avoiding them for them to find me. I would tell myself that they were better off, that it was best for everyone if I left. I always had my immediate family as my social and support group and that was enough for me, as I am exceedingly lucky to have such wonderful people in my life.

But the darnest thing started happening once I left school. Sometimes, when I made contact with people, when I’d talk to them regularly, then leave… people would try to stay in contact.

I’ll make no effort to be subtle and dance around the truth. I have been dealing with mental health issues for most of my life and only just stated to work on them in my early twenties. I won’t go into specifics, but as one can imagine, social anxiety was on top of the list. Doing art, specifically fan art for other artists/content creators was unspeakably therapeutic in treating that, and unintentionally got me connected to some of the sweetest, thoughtful, funny, and concisely amazing individuals out there.

And five months ago, I hit my wall again. I was surrounded by said amazing people and bounced. At first I told myself it was only for a week, but then that week grew into weeks, until I started to avoided Tumblr, Discord, any platform I could be easily contacted. Every time I tried to type or respond, or even click on an awaiting message… I froze, thousands of things running through my head, yet permanently stuck without a thing to say. Even if I promised myself that I’d do it on a specific date, or after I finished a project, my avoidance and insomnia worked together to keep me in my little hole, and that part of me would say I had to wait until I was ready.

Ready for what, though? For this feeling to go away? How can I combat the unknown if I never step into it, something that has never left? The fact of the matter is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be free of this flight response. If I say something stupid that I wished I hadn’t, I’ll apologize, try to see what went wrong, and if the offended party is willing to still talk, then I can lean and grow.

Recently a friend straight up called me to make sure I was okay, and I can’t thank her enough. Because when I talk to someone, it reminds me that when the chips are down, I will tackle this fear, shove it in a gosh dang closet and tell it to wait it’s flipping turn. Sincerely and truly, I never meant to scare anyone. Honestly, I didn’t think anyone would care that much. 

Coming back to Tumblr will be a process. I can’t talk to too many people in one day, and working back up to posting things is going to be a journey. But it is one I can make, even if I have to take breaks. The key is, when those breaks are taken, I can’t burrow down into another hole. I can’t let that part of myself want that as a final destination any longer.

From the bottom to the brim of my heart, I’m so, so sorry for not giving a proper explanation or even a reply to those that asked. Thank you for asking and caring. I will do my absolute best to give as good as I get.

Whomever you are, wherever you are, know that it’s okay to have emotions, even the ones we battle with from day one. We can grow, heal and change. There is no one else like you on the planet, and there’s someone out there who can and will see that.

Sorry for dumping my heart out, out of the blue like this… but yeah! I’m inching my way back. Gradually. Thank you for listening to me ramble, and your patience.

[sombreboy]

Bleeding love | yandere!kth

▎ pairing: kth x female reader ▎ xtremity; 3 ▎ genre: angst, breakup, yandere ▎ warnings: toxic relationship, kidnapping, blood, self harm(Tae cuts himself a little) ▎ word count: 2.1k 

Request by anon: Yandere Tae and you are in a happy relationship and you decide to introduce him to your parents and siblings and they disapprove of him. You decide to break up with him. How would he keep you?

''We have to break up.''

Taehyung choked on the drink he was sipping on, hitting his chest as he coughed. His eyes went from wide with shock to squinting with annoyance,

''What do you mean, break up? Why?''

You fiddled with your fork, mindlessly stirring the food on your plate, avoiding eyecontact with him.

''Remember when I introduced you to my family last weekend?''

He nodded, arms crossed over his chest,

''What about it?''

You grit your teeth, a common habit of yours when you were feeling nervous.

''They gave me a lot to think about when it comes to us, and... I don't think it's gonna work. My family is very important to me, and I value their opinion.''

Taehyung slams his hand on the table, making the strangers by the tables around you in the restaurant startled, quietly whispering and moving their attention elsewhere when he glances over. He stares back at you,

''Fucking look at me, Y/N.''

Your eyes move up to meet his, they were furious, his eyebrows furrowed as he clenched his jaw before snarling out quietly,

''Why the fuck do you care what they say? We are perfectly happy, aren't we? You said so yourself, that you love me, and always will. Was it all lies? Huh?!''

You shrink into the chair, because he was right. You did tell him Those things, because you believed it. But your family had made you realize that he also was toxic, his anger issues and obsessive behavior over you wasn't healthy. And he refused to acknowledge it, so it was easier to just break up.

Or so you thought.

''Are you just not gonna leave me that easily? I was that important to you, huh?''

He leans back into his chair, his fist clenched on the table. He shook his head, speaking loudly to himself rather than towards you,

''I won't allow it. No way, we're not breaking up.''

You raise your eyebrows at him, ''It's not a matter of choice on your end, Tae. I'm telling you, we're done.''

You stood up from your chair, throwing your purse over your shoulder to walk away, but before you're able to, Taehyung leans over the table to grab your wrist, staring up at you with a piercing glare,

''We're not done, Y/N.''

''I am done. Goodbye, Taehyung.'' He flinches at your words, his grip loosening as you withdraw your arm and turn on your heels to stride out of the restaurant.

He groans in frustration, throwing money on the table before getting up so quickly that the chair squeaks to follow behind you.

You rush down the street in the late evening night, the only light coming from cars and streetlights. It was rather beautiful. You finally reached your apartment, standing outside the door as you fumble to fish out your keys.

While putting the keys into the lock, you suddenly feel the presence of somebody behind you, so you turn around slowly only to see the stature of your now ex-boyfriend.

It had started to rain, and his wet hair was clinging onto his face, framing him beautifully. He looked almost unreal, as if from a movie.

But he was definitely real, and the expression on his face made your heart ache. It was the polar opposite of the man from earlier, the one with anger and rage was completely washed away as the man in front of you wore a sad expression, lips trembling as he opens his mouth to speak with a shaky breath,

''Please don't tell me you meant what you said.''

This made it so incredibly hard. He was able to change expressions and play with your emotions like nobody else, going from a controlling rage to a sad, wet puppy within minutes.

''I'm sorry...I can't be with you.'' You felt your own tears well up in your eyes.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, hands reaching out to wrap around your legs as he pushes his face into the fabric of your clothes on your stomach, shoulders starting to shake as he sobs out,

''Please, please, please.... I can't live without you.''

Your own tears started to flow at this point, clutching your chest as you leaned back against your door.

''Stop it, Taehyung...''

He stops sobbing as if on command, slowly getting back up on his legs as he towers over you. His blood-shot eyes are piercing, but he keeps the same sombre expression playing on his face as his hand travels to smooth over the skin of your cheek to wipe away your tears,

''If you didn't love me, you wouldn't be crying right now.''

You shook your head, turning the keys on the door behind you to open the door slowly. You just wanted to sleep.

''Go home, Taehyung.''

He clenched his jaw, ''If you promise to stay with me.''

You shook your head, stepping backwards into your apartment. He doesn't move, so you walk inside until you can keep the wall of the door between you as you stand in the doorway,

''You know I can't promise that. Please go.''

Taehyung's expression slowly changed, from pleading to annoyance. He clacked his shoe in the ground as he looked at his feet.

''Fine. I'll leave.''

You felt slightly surprised at the way he gave in, but you felt a huge relief.

''Goodnight, Tae.'' You close the door and lock it, taking a deep breath before peeking through the hole of the door to look at him.

He stood still for a few minutes, just staring at the sky. He looked beautiful in the moonlight, and it still mesmerized you. But he wasn't good for you. This was for the best.

You noticed that he suddenly smiled, chuckling as he shook his head before turning around to walk away. You kept your eyes on him until he was out of sight, and you decided you were finally able to head to bed.

Taehyung had spent that whole night in his bed, staring at the spot you used to lay next to him. He glanced at his phone, checking your social media to see that you haven't been active since your dinner together.

''She wasn't serious... She will call me today.'' He mused to himself.

But you didn't, and it made him anxious and annoyed, so he decided to take the matter into his own hands. You weren't broken up, you just weren't. You love him, and he loves you. Oh, how he loves you. Why else would he be in his car right now, on his way to your place? It was all because he cares about you.

''We can fix this. I can fix this.'' He spoke out loud to himself in the silence of his car, one eye twitching at the swirling feeling in his chest of joy. He was gonna get you back, because he truly didn't lose you.

He knocked on your door, but no one opened. No response? Weird.

He checked his phone, dialing your number with no luck there as well.

Radio silence.

Taehyung bit his lower lip in frustration, striding over to your window. He was lucky you lived on the first floor, so he peeked inside between the curtains to see that all lights were turned off. Were you not home? Where would you possibly go?

He sighed, ''It's fine. She will be back soon. I'll just make myself comfortable meanwhile.''

Luckily, he'd prepared for this, Walking back to his car to bring a crowbar with him, forcing the window open carefully. He stepped inside, closed the window and turned on the lights after closing the curtains.

The security alarm went off, but Taehyung quickly moved over to the alarm-pad and pressed the combination to make it stop. He's used it so many times before, this was a piece of cake.

Taehyung walked around your apartment, Everything looked the same. Even his toothbrush was still in your bathroom, and he smiled before moving to your livingroom, sitting down on the couch to await your arrival.

You unlocked your door and stepped inside, kicking off your shoes and throwing your jacket on the floor, too tired to bother with it right now.

''Weird, did I forget to turn on the alarm..'' You mused as you sauntered over to the kitchen to grab something quick to eat.

Taehyung heard you, quickly getting up off of the couch to sneak over to the kitchen, watching you just stand by the counter and drifting away in thought.

You were truly a Beauty, he was always in awe when you were zoning into your own mind. But, now wasn't the time. Now there were more important matters.

He really wished he didn't have to do this, but it was for your own good. Your family were brainwashing you into thinking he's some kind of... Crazy person.

You heard his breathing behind you, a shaky breath being the last thing you heard before everything went dark.

You woke up slowly, feeling groggy and your eyes struggling to adapt to the light right away. Groaning sleepily, you squint as you see the stature of a man sitting in front of you in a chair, looking down at your figure that is seated on the floor against the wall.

''W-what....where am I?''

''Sweetheart, ssh... You're safe.''

You open your eyes wide when you can clearly see that Taehyung's sitting in front of you, looking like he's had a type of day with the way his hair was in a mess, his white dress shirt slightly dirty and disheveled.

''Safe? What are you– What the fuck is this?!'' You Yell out when you tried to move your hands, but they were restrained behind your back, unable to move properly as you wiggle.

''Don't, don't.'' He pleads as he drops down from the chair on his knees on the floor in front of you, hands reaching out for you. You flinch,

''Don't touch me!''

Taehyung stops his hands in the air before withdrawing them, his shoulders sinking and his lips pressed in a straight line.

''Y/N.''

You frown, spitting out your words like venom,

''Don't 'Y/N' me, Taehyung! Why am I tied up in your place? Oh my good, I was just in my kitchen, did you fucking kidnap me?! I'll scream, let me go right now!''

Taehyung's eye twitched as his lips curled up in a smile, he leaned forward over you with the utmost of affection on his face,

''Do you really think anybody would hear you? Go on, scream. But if you're done being a brat, I have important matters to discuss with you, babe.''

You spit on the floor, anger rushing through your veins like never before,

''Fuck you, you're crazy! Let me out, I swear I will have you fucking arrested. This isn't okay!''

Taehyung groaned in Disappointment, pulling out a knife from his backpocket. You instantly freeze, pressing yourself against the wall to shrink.

''Don't worry, my love. I wouldn't hurt you,'' He crooks an eyebrow at you before looking at his knife, ''Do you remember what I said about not being able to live without you?''

You felt anxiety swirl in your gut, but you nod, ''What are you implying?''

He smiled sadly, ''You love me, don't you?''

''Tae...''

''Just tell me you love me. We can be together forever, you were happy. Your family doesn't need to know, they're brainwashing you to believe that I'm bad... I'm not bad, Y/N. I love you.''

You sigh, looking at his sad expression and dead eyes staring at you. He brings the knife to his wrist, and slowly lets the blade slice his skin to draw blood. It wasn't deep, not fatal, just enough to make a point.

''I'm bleeding for you. This blood, running through my veins.. It's all for you. Don't you see, I can't live without you.''

''You can, Taehyung. Please..''

''No. I won't let you go again. You're mine, Y/N, why won't you..'' He stops to slam the knife into the wall next to you, ''Why won't you fucking realize that we're supposed to be together?!''

He Breathes heavily, eyes blood shot. His hand grabs your face, guiding it to his own as he places a kiss on your lips. The blood from his palm leaves red marks on your cheek, feeling the wet warmth from it makes you shiver. He withdraws his mouth from yours, the kisses you usually felt so dearly now felt foreign with the desperation behind it.

''Youre mine, you're mine, you're mine.''

He was not gonna let you go, ever. 

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans Are Space Orcs “Preparations.”

I’m getting ready for an interesting new arc, I think, so we shall see. I never know what my brain is going  to want to write. 

“Lieutenant, command is yours. Keep the ship operational till I get back. I want low orbit just in case we have to bail out quickly.”

“Yes sir.”

Boots clattered on metal as Commander Vir clattered down the stairs and moved quickly down the hallway. A small entourage of figures walked at his back, “I’m not sure I like this commander.” One of them was saying, “It could more than easily be a trap.”

He sighed, “I know, but the GA wants it done.”

“I would much rather do reconnaissance for a while-”

“And so would I, but the chairwoman made it very clear that we needed to speak with them as soon as possible. I’ve already tried establishing radio contact, and nothing. The only way to go now is the old fashioned way.”

They took a sharp corner, “Tell the council to meet me down in the docking bay.”

“Yes sir,” They scampered off leaving another subordinate to fill their place.

Most of the council was already there when he reached the docking bay. Dr, Krill, Sunny, Dr. Adric, Ramirez Narobi etc. etc.” He paused before them, hands clasped behind his back.

“You shouldn’t go alone.” Came the first announcement.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, which means I want at least six marines, and a group from the diplomacy team. I know I’ve been taking lessons, but I don’t trust myself nearly as much as I trust them.”

“Are we sure it needs to be you at all?” Krill pointed out getting to the heart of the issue on first try, as was usual for him.

Commander Vir turned to look at the little doctor on the spot, “The Kree have demanded a high ranking representative.”

“Then lie to them, send down someone not important and pretend,” Krill said 

He crossed his arms, “We aren’t going to lie. Starting out diplomatic relations with a lie would destabilize the entire foundation of what we are trying to build, no we need proper protection is all.” He turned to look at the others, “Any objections? If so raise your concerns now?’”

Sunny raised a hand, “You're Not going unless you bring proper weapons, otherwise, I say we shouldn't meet them.”

“I agree….. And I have an idea.” The group looked nervously around at each other, “No, you are very much not going to like it, and you will probably argue with me.” He turned to Dr. Adric, and motioned hi to follow, “Ramirez get your marines and-”

“Already done commander.”

“Nice and fast of you.” He turned to look at Ramirez one last time placing a hand on his shoulder, “Are these the marines that have…. Uh…. trained with the new equipment?”

Ramirez  nodded enthusiastically, “Yes sir.”

“Good.” “New equipment?” Krill wondered rather suspiciously.

“Yep you're going to hate that too.” Commander Vir announced knowing that he was going to argue and knowing that people would assume his decision was poor. But he had talked it over -- seriously -- with Ramirez, and they had both agreed it was too good a strategic advantage not to. Ramirez had then talked with the requisitions officer and so on and so forth until the package had been loaded onto the ship not a few days before, but that he thought he might be able to get away with, it was this next thing, they were going to hate.

Floating at the back of the group Conn knew what he was thinking, “They’re going to lock you up.”

“Are you exaggerating, or is that seriously what they are going to do?”

The starborn kept silent  leaving hi on edge as he moved forward and into the equipment room. He knew where it was, they had hardly hidden it as well as they thought they had, and he could tell by the nervous movement of the rest of the crew that they knew too.

Ight as well not keep them waiting.

He walked over to one side of the room, pushed a rack of guns out of the way, reached down and dragged the large silver box onto the open floor.

Immediate uproar.

“No!”

“Not on your life!: “What are you thinking!”

Commander Vir crossed his arms, planting himself before the box with feet spread wide. He let them continue to rant, sunny even tried to pull hi away, but he ducked past both of her arms and stepped back, so he was now standing on the box.

“QUIET ALL OF YOU!”

That made them shut up, at least for the moment.

“Commander, we won’t let you.”

“I know.” 

“Than why even bother bringing it up.” Sunny demanded 

Even Ramirez was looking a little put off..

He turned to look at Dr. Adric, “That is why he is here. I know for a fact that I can do it, and not cause harm to myself. I’m healthy enough mentally to manage, but if the good doctor decides that I am wrong, than I will put it down and stp arguing.”

Below him, the Iron eye logo glinted in the yellowed overhead lights.

Dr. Adric looked on in concern, “What is this about?”

Krill and a few of the others turned to protest, but commander Vir stopped them with a raised hand turning to look at the doctor, “You are aware of my time in operation steel eye?”

He nodded.

“And were you aware that I put the armor back on for the burg war not some months ago?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know about the project.”

He laced his hands together before him, “I published a paper on it. I know that it was a volatile experimental pice of technology that the government attached  directly into the spinal columns and muscles of the forty surviving soldiers. Each machine was powered by the steel eye prosthetic which contained the suit’s power source. I know that they used drugs to stop the excruciating pain, and that they added amphetamines to cause aggression and allow the soldiers to stay up longer…. And I know that more than three fourths of those soldiers are dead now and only have of that fourth is….. Operating functionally as people.”

Commander Vir smiled, “Yes, than you do know. IT took me years to recover from the suit, than I went and put it on again, and that caused a relapse in y mental health to a degree that I almost got myself grounded and , likely, discharged. However, during that time I also spoke to a group of people who were working on a similar project, operation Iron eye.” There was a nervous shifting around the room, “ITs the same thing as stell eye, though it requires no drugs, and no pain. The Trade off is, I had to go in for surgery because the attachments are permanent.” 

He turned around and pulled down the collar of his shirt so Dr. Adric could see the first port just below the base of his skull, “I had these done at a time where I honestly shouldn't have, but I thought this was my only option.” He turned back around, “I am well aware that is not true, but what’s done is done. I have the implants, they cannot be removed, and I have the suit. I might as well use it to protect myself. That is the point? To protect myself and the rest of the crew?”

There was silence for a moment.

“We can’t let you do this.” Dr Katie was saying.

Narobi was shaking her head emphatically .

He turned to look at Dr. Adric, “I leave this decision up to you doc. If I’m not mentally healthy enough to handle it, than I will stop, but you are the expert here and the most unbiased among us.” Dr Adric shifted on the spot nervously. He could see where this was a problem. The unhealthy associations that soldiers were bound to make after an experience like that was…. Horrible to imagine, but the Commander seemed calm, so he supposed there was no issue with trying.

He was a bit nervous about all the eyes that his decision caused. Sunny looked like she was about to beat him to death with her spear, and Dr. Krill seemed intent on poisoning his drink the next time he had the chance.

They took the Iron eye box back to the medical bay, and The three doctors observed the process.

Commander Vir was feeling pretty good as he slid back into the box listening to the connections click into place. Were there some bad memories? Yeah, sure, but he could handle those well enough.

Dr Adric kept a close eye on him as he stood the whirring of hydraulics accompanying his movement. He flexed his fist inside the iron eye suit and turned to look at the others.

Krill was frowning. Sunny was glowering , Dr. Katie wouldn't even look at him. Ramirez looked very, very nervous.

Dr. Adric walked over and checked his pulse, asked a few questions, but finally decided there was no reason to tell him no. 

That pissed off almost everyone else in the room, but commander Vir pulled on the specially made iron eye gear, “You wanted me safe, and this is as safe as I can think of being, and I trust Dr. Adric’s judgement.” With each footstep, metal clattered against metal, and the soft hiss of the hydraulics accompanied him up the hall.

THe others followed in concern and anger.

The crew turned to look their eyes wide looking nervous.

They expected him to do something stupid.

What they didn’t know is that he actually had a practicing mental health professional on his side now, and truth be told, he didn’t feel anything really. Yes he could just as easily compare the experience to the steel-eye suit, but without the pain, the experiences were too different.

Reaching the docking bay for the second time. The marines were already waiting as were the diplomacy team.

Dr Krill cursed, “You arent serious.”

“Krill, I appreciate your opinion as a doctor, but in areas of equipping marines, I trust Ramirez more.”

The line of marines saluted as he drew nearer, their bodies covered by their combat ACUs, and each one wearing a matte black painted jetpack.

He turned, just in time for Ramirez to step forward with another, mounting it to the back plate on the Iron- eye suit, where it clicked satisfyingly into place.

Krill and Sunny both looked as if they were about  to have a conniption. 

He withdrew something from his pocket, “Don’t worry, I did my homework, and read the manual. I don’t plan on even using it if this all goes well.” he looked at the group of them seriously, “This isn’t for fun, everyone, this is for the safety and protection of myself and others. I have a panic button ready in case anything goes wrong, and I will have two more teams of marines on standby in low orbit in case something decides to happen. I have the diplomacy team to speak when I don’t know what to do, and I have the marines for a firefight if it comes to that. THe first sign of trouble and we fly out if we have to.”

He stepped forward a bit, looking around at the concerned and angry faces, “I understand you all are worried, but I have thought this through. I have taken your suggestions, and I am doing everything I can to stay safe.” He looked up at Sunny, “I will be equipped in the way that you suggested.” he turned to Krill and Katie, “We have the medical supplies that you ordered in the bags that were placed in the ready room.”

He turned to Narobi, “You sent in one of your best people to service all of the equipment days ago. I, and these men are as safe as we can be.” 

Maybe one day he wouldn't have to explain his actions to these people, but he understood that, in the past he had made a bunch of poor decisions. This time would not be that time. He had thought of everything, and he had talked to everyone else to consider things he hadn’t thought of. He was listening to his crew, and differing to the knowledge of experts. He didn’t pick the team, he didn’t pick the equipment, and he was going to allow the knowledge of others to carry through this time.

Yes, one day he would be able to make a decision without explaining everything, but today was not that day.

He looked around, “Are there any objections?” He held up a hand to cut Krill off, “On the basis of logic and not being angry at me?”

Krill shut his mouth.

One of the floor technicians jogged up, “The shuttle is ready commander.”

He nodded and turned to the marines, “Load up!” He then turned and ordered a second pilot onto the ship so as not to leave it unmanned when they were gone.

In the confusion, he turned to head towards the ship, but something caught his hand.

He turned and looked up to find Sunny’s golden eyes staring down at him. He could tell she was mad, displeased, and even a little hurt, though she didn’t say any of that.

The one day he thought he had made no mistakes…. And he had.

He looked around quickly, and seeing no one paying attention, he took one of her other hands.

The Iron eye armor impeded a good connection but it would have to do, “I’ll talk to you when I get back.”

SHe remained quiet.

“I know…. I should have told you, and you can kick my ass later, ok?”

His smile fell from his face as she continued to glower.

He squeezed her hands, “Back before you can say Adam is a dipshit.” He squeezed one more time and let go turning towards the shuttle and flexing his shoulders with a hydraulic hiss , the iron eye clattering hungrily with every movement

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Her Majesty || 11

Crowns and Robes.

Anastasia’s pov 

At some point along the long drive, I dozed off to the sound of Harry softly humming to the radio while attempting to get a hold of someone on his phone. I’m not sure who he was calling, I remember him asking me if I was okay, and as far as I know, I hummed a response. 

I am fine; I am not going to fall off the deep end and swiftly become deranged. I don’t understand the circumstances that have happened in the last few months, I never imagined that this is what being Royal would be like. My parents didn’t prepare me for any of this, I don’t think anyone could have equipped me for these trials of royalty. 

I am incredibly fatigued, sleeping without Harry and not knowing where he has been stressing me out, along with being unsure of my father and his mayhem. Now, I have Victoria’s corpse imprinted in my memory every time I close my eyes. I don’t want to shut my eyes and envision everything, but I am so exhausted that I have no choice. I closed my eyes just for a moment while Harry drove and I was in and out of sleep the rest of the ride. 

I briefly remember Harry waking me up and whispering in my ear that he couldn’t carry me, I had no real clue where we were, but all I remember is falling back asleep as soon as I had a soft place to fall. 

I breathe in the scent of clean sheets and I pull the covers further up my body while I open my eyes in an attempt to grasp my bearings. “Harry?” His name falls sleepily from my lips while I sit up, the room still blacked out from the curtains. 

“Go back to sleep,” Harry mumbles, tugging at the covers, “At my Mum’s, you’re fine,” Harry assures me, getting comfortable in the bed. 

I don’t think he understands that just because he claims that we are safe, it doesn’t mean I’m going to believe it at this point. 

I tilt my head to the side and watch the slight ray of sunshine slowly peek its way through the curtains while I think about the last few hours that have transpired. 

I can’t help but continue to remember walking away from Harry. I should have listened to him and stayed with him and Matthew, maybe then I wouldn’t have had to discover Victoria.

I remember I was walking along the stones, following the path when I was momentarily sidetracked by this scent that made me sick to my stomach, I thought nothing of it. I figured it was just a rodent or some sort of explanation that wasn’t a dead body. I fell over her body, quite literally, and the thought of remembering the incident causes my stomach to stir. 

With every day that passes, I become more and more aware of the fact that my father is immoral. I’m not sure what he has managed to get into, but whatever it is, it’s not good. Ultimately, I’m paying the consequences of his actions and decisions. I can’t blame him for everything, with us being royal, we are always at risk, but recently, it seems like we are at a higher risk, thanks to him. 

I benevolently shake Harry, being cautious not to touch his painful shoulder, Harry mumbles something inaudible against his pillow before lifting his head, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Harry sleepily asks, leisurely sitting himself up, his right hand beginning to reach to his side table. 

“You don’t need the gun,” I inform him, noticing what he is reaching for. I think it is a force of habit for him, he never really knows why I could be waking him, with all the dangerous events and evacuations, I don’t blame him for stretching for it while half asleep, unaware as to why I am waking him. 

Harry hums, “Then why the fuck am I awake?” He grumbles, not too pleased. 

“Do, do you think my Dad is losing it?” 

“What?” Harry asks, seeming a little confused. 

“Do you think he is losing the plot? Going senile? Literally going mentally insane?” It could make sense for him to be losing his mind.  

Senility can produce changes in mental health, such as memory loss or a decline in judgment. His judgment certainly hasn’t been the best when it comes to things, he put me in jeopardy when we went to Greece, he put us all in danger, he is angry all of the time and has acted out, firing a lot of the staff— He isn’t the Father I remember, he has been on a steady decline ever since he started to talk about handing me the crown, once he told the whole of Britain that he was hoping to hand things down to me by the end of the year, everything steadily got worse. personality or behaviour changes are another symptom but the only issue is that he is too young to be going senile, he is only fifty, surely he isn’t old enough to be going senile. Maybe he is clinically insane? Maybe I am clinically insane at this point, I feel like I am going insane. 

Harry blankly stares at me for a few moments, silence crowding the room. 

Harry shakes his head and lies back down, “Goodnight, Anastasia.” 

“Harry—”

“Go to sleep,” Harry mumbles, drawing the covers back up his body and becoming comfortable between the sheets. 

I heavily sigh and move my body closer to his, trying to get as close as possible without bothering him hurting him. Harry doesn’t speak, instead, he opens his arm and enables me to move closer, allowing him to settle his arm around me while I relax on his good shoulder. 

I listen to the melodious breaths of Harry while he falls asleep. I gaze up at the ceiling, trying to think of a logical solution for everything that has been occurring. 

Perhaps my Father is going senile. Perhaps my Father just has a lot of enemies. 

Perhaps the monarch is turning against my Father. 

Perhaps all of this is happening without logical explanations. 

Perhaps I need to find a way to pass the crown to someone else.

♔♔♔ ♔♔♔

Through the night, I was in and out of sleep, so was Harry, I could feel him shuffling around in the bed, trying to get comfortable and groaning every so often. Sleeping doesn’t come to me easily now, last night I was concerned about my father, I do not know where exactly he is or if he is okay. I genuinely think he is starting to lose his mind, it would explain his shift in behaviours. One minute he’s trying to marry me off and the next minute he’s angry at the world.  

I shift the covers around my body and groan, a desire to stay in bed overcoming me sharply as I gradually wake up to the sound of an unfamiliar voice down the hallway, “I heard there’s a princess, I want to meet her.” 

“Gemma, shh,” Harry hushes her, “She’s asleep, go away. You’re not following me in here,” Harry continues, doing his best to whisper but failing. 

I chuckle to myself as the door opens, “Damnit, Gemma, piss off,” Harry again mutters, pushing her arm away from the doorframe and closing the door behind him. 

Harry glances over at me and smiles, “I’m sorry, she’s uh— she wants to meet you.” 

“She wants to meet a princess.” I correct him. 

“Mhm,” Harry hums, “She doesn’t mean that in a bad way; she means no disrespect.” 

I sit up in the bed and shrug my shoulders, “Is ‘she’ your sister or?” I ask, unsure of who is summoning me and wanting to meet me. I know Harry has a sister, I have never met her so I can only assume the woman eager to meet me in the hallways’ is no other than his sister. 

Harry nods his head, “Yes, my sister who seems to have a problem with boundaries.” 

“Well,” I chuckle, pulling the covers towards my shoulders, “She sounds lovely.” 

“She’s a pest,” Harry responds, “But, she did bring some clothes for you,” Harry places a pair of leggings and a long sweater on the bed, “Mum bought some clothes while we were asleep for you to go through, probably warmer than this,” Harry holds up the white sweater. 

“I am sure it is fine,” I assure him, appreciative that his mother and sister were both kind enough to take into consideration that I have no clothes besides what I left London in. 

When I was woken up by Harry, I had no clue that we would be evacuating and I would have nothing besides the clothes on my back and my phone. 

“It’s a bit crisp this morning.”

“Says the person who isn’t wearing a shirt,” I point out. 

“Do you know how painful it is to put a shirt on without help? It was easier to just throw on the bloody sling and sweatpants. Should let my mother shop for me more, these are comfortable,” Harry gestures towards his pants, causing me to raise a brow. 

I can’t deny the fact that if it wasn’t for his damn shoulder, I’d gradually make my way closer to him, and allow my hands to flow across his shoulders before travelling themselves down his chest, where my thoughts would become entangled with only one—him.

My hands would examine the texture of his body, moderately working their way past his abs, and then my fingers would sweep across his V-line in a teasing matter where his sweatpants would fall to his ankles. 

I cock my head to the side, admiring the way his hair has been brushed but still appears rumpled, he has his sun-kissed tan from the summer and his few tattoos seem to catch my attention this morning. 

He has the body of a faultlessly chiselled sculpture and it’s destroying me in all ways. 

“Do I even want to ask what you’re thinking about?” Harry distracts me from my stare. 

I bite my lip and gaze up at him, trying my best to conceal my smirk. 

Harry clears his throat and begins to step around to my side, “You have that look.” 

“What look?” I innocently inquire. 

Harry leans down and kisses my lips sweetly, “The look where you want to make love,” Harry whispers, drawing away from my lips and enticing me further. 

“Why must you always say ‘make love’?” 

“Because fucking the princess just isn’t as romantic.” Harry outright responds, “Not very respectful.” 

“Whatever,” I roll my eyes, “Soooo…” I trail off with a grin. 

Harry sighs and shakes his head, “I can’t, Anna.” 

“How many times will you deny me until you give in? Talk about playing hard to get,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. 

I have lost count how many times I have been denied.

“I hate to break it to you, but you do realise I fucked my shoulder and can barely move it after carrying you last night?” 

“I had a better chance of getting anything out of you while you were on morphine.” I laugh, playfully teasing him.

Harry chuckles, “Probably,” he nods, “Believe me, I wish I still had my morphine.” 

“Mhm, change the subject, sounds about right.” 

“Spoilt.” Harry laughs, delighted by the fact I’m still sexually frustrated. 

I raise a brow at him, “Spoilt? Me? How? You haven’t touched me in quite some time.” 

“Anna… baby…” Harry sighs, “How about tonight?” 

“Last time I heard that, you ended up hurt and I was shoved in a bloody pantry thing, hiding from people who wanted to kill me, soooo.” I trail off, reminding him of the last time those words left his strawberry-red lips.

“I promise, tonight.” 

“I’ll be pissed if I’m shoved in a pantry.”

Harry smiles, “Nothing bad will happen, you won’t be shoved into pantries and your life won’t be on the line.” 

I grin at Harry and nod my head, agreeing that tonight will work, as long as nothing negative happens by then. 

“Mhm,” I hum, “Whatever you say,” I respond just as the door to the bedroom opens. 

Harry glances over his shoulder towards the door where his sister, I assume, stands, leaning on the doorframe with an angelic smile while locks of chestnut-brown hair curtain her face.

“Do I need to cutesy?” Gemma questions under her breath, staring at me half a smile painted across her lips. 

“Yes,” Harry responds with a smirk, watching his sister do her very best at curtsying to me. 

I raise a brow towards Harry before I shake my head, “No, I’m just Anastasia, I’m not a princess while I’m here,” I smile at her, not wanting anyone to treat me and different than what they would a normal civilian. I don’t expect them to curtsy to me or refer to me as ‘Princess,’ I expect nothing besides kindness, and that is what I have been shown so far. “He is just being a jerk,” I assure his sister. 

His sister nods her head, “It’s what he does best. I’m Gemma, his sister.” 

“Yes, this is my sister, who is very kindly interrupting,” Harry interjects as he pulls his phone from his pocket, “You at least could have knocked.” 

Gemma shrugs her shoulders and walks past Harry, not caring about his comments, “If you need any clothes, just let me know. I don’t know what Mum picked out but if you need anything, just ask.” 

“I need you to leave,” Harry smiles, and again, Gemma ignores him, entirely brushing him off and sorting through the clothes Harry placed on the bed from their mother. 

“Thank you, Gemma,” I appreciate her being kind. She doesn’t have to be nice to me and offer me her clothes, quite honestly, she doesn’t have to do anything for me, this is the first time she has met me. She has every reason to be standoffish with me. “I’m going to make coffee,” I push the covers of the sheets off my body, “Give you two time to catch up,” I wink towards Harry, well aware that he doesn’t get to see his family too often, I think it is best to give them some time, even if it is just a few minutes while I make coffee. 

♔♔♔

I walk down the hallway with two cups of coffee in my hands, making my way towards Harry’s childhood bedroom. The last time I tried to make our coffee, it did not go nearly as smoothly as it did this time. Not that it is a very big achievement, but I smile to myself, quite pleased with how my coffee turned out, even if it is a simple task. Making coffee in the palace is not something that I do, I never get the chance to— it is all done for me. I know how privileged and spoilt it makes me sound, but in all fairness, I would change things if I could. I want to be able to do mundane things such as making coffee and washing linens. 

“So, can you tell me what happened and why you’re up here?” Harry’s sister challenges him just as I stop outside the door.

“I could, but then I’d have to kill you.” 

“It can’t be that serious,” she scoffs. 

“Drop it,” Harry warns sternly, in a way I’d never expect him to act towards his sister. 

“You’re such a hardass, don’t forget you used to chase butterflies in the garden as a kid.” 

“I don’t pry about your job, don’t pry about mine.” 

“That’s because you’re an ass and never ask me about my job… not that it’s very interesting compared to yours.” 

“You think keeping your wife alive is interesting?” Harry snaps unhappily.

“Well, she isn’t your wife yet, but yes. Seems like the palace life is interesting… Speaking of which, Harry, are you sure you want this?” Gemma asks, causing my heart to sink in my chest. She doesn’t sound like she approves of our relationship. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Are you sure you want to marry into the royal family? It’s a big fucking deal… Putting aside all the shit I don’t know and the danger you’re currently in, do you realise how much work being a royal is? Your life will never be the same again.” 

“There’s a reason we are keeping it quiet. I love her, I want to be with her, I don’t care about the royal family and the monarchy narrative, I care about her.” 

“You have to care about the monarch because you’ll be a part of it, Harry. She won’t choose you over the crown, she can't hand it off to someone else. You won’t be normal.” Gemma explains the things that I have already tried to explain to Harry before. He is aware things aren’t normal. 

“I don’t want her to choose me over the crown, I’ve accepted she has major responsibilities, I know what I’m getting into, Gemma. I don’t need you to tell me what I’m getting into, I see it every day, you just read about it in history books and on social media.” 

“I’m making sure you understand that this isn’t going to be easy. You won’t work, you will do royal duties, is that what you want? You should be working towards being the president of operations, not suddenly becoming royalty.” 

“I’m aware. I’m a big boy, I can make my own decisions. I can still work security, I don’t want Matthew’s job right now. I’m marrying her, if you don’t like it then that’s just too bad. I’m not here for your approval, quite frankly I’m not here at all for you.” 

“There you go being an arse.”

“You bring out the asshole in me when you act like I’m not capable of making decisions. I’m your little brother, I get it, but I thought you of all people would be more accepting. I expected mum to be the one to convince me not to marry her, instead, mum's the one who encouraged me to propose. I had my doubts, I know I’m not good enough for her, she deserves Prince Charming and I’m just some guy from the country-side who became her security… but damnit I try every day to be the man she needs, so do me a favour and at least pretend to like her until we leave.” 

“I do like her, Harry.” 

“Then this conversation doesn’t need to go any further,” Harry dismisses her and I let out a breath. 

I should have walked away when I heard them talking, I shouldn’t have listened in to the conversation because now I don’t know how I feel about everything.

If his sister doesn’t have faith in us then who the fuck will? 

“I have coffee,” I announce, pretending like I didn’t hear them as I step into the bedroom and hand Harry his coffee. 

Harry kisses my cheek and takes the cup from my hand, wasting no time with taking a sip, “Much better than last time,” Harry grins. 

“I’ll leave you two to settle in, I have some sewing to do,” Gemma excuses herself politely, standing up from her position on the bed and walking out without saying anything further. 

I look towards Harry, wanting to question things but there is a time and a place, right now isn’t the right time. I can’t start something at this hour of the morning, I don’t want to start our day on a shitty note. 

♔♔♔ ♔♔♔

Harry grins at me while he launches a blanket towards me and makes his way towards the open fireplace that has been roaring since sunset. He pokes the logs a little before adding the last log to the fire, ambers crackling and disbursing in their brilliant colours of red and apricot. 

He comes closer to me and kisses my cheek before falling beside me and getting comfortable, his hand making sure to move the blanket so I’m covered and warm. “Have you found a dress you like, love?” 

I shake my head and hand him my tea, “No, it’s hard when I need to try them on,” I answer. 

Just because it seems good online it doesn’t mean it’ll look good in person, wedding dress shopping without a boutique is harder than one would think. “Starting to wonder if we should just get married at the courthouse.” 

Harry shakes his head immediately, “No, you deserve the dress of your dreams at the very least.” 

“Harry, I don’t need it… I just want to get married. We can go to the courthouse.” 

“Anna—“ 

“Jus’ think about it? Your Mum understands where I’m coming from.” 

“My mother agreed with you?” Harry raises a brow. 

“Can you just think about it?” 

“You want me to just take you to the courthouse?” 

“I don’t see why not.” 

“You’d be happy to go to the courthouse right now and get married? No dress, no family, nothing?” Harry questions. 

“Yes.” 

Harry nods his head and sighs before standing to his feet, “I’m going to bed.” 

“Are you mad?” I question, watching as he begins to walk away, “Harry?” 

He turns and peers over at me, “No, are you coming to bed?” Harry questions while walking down the hallway, leaving me by myself in the living room.

I wander into his bedroom and close the door, “Are you seriously upset with me? You can’t just walk away from a conversation because you don’t—“ I begin to express my frustration with him walking away from me and the conversation about our wedding, but I’m swiftly cut off by his lips hitting mine and his body pushing me against the wall. 

He drags his mouth from my own and leaves sweet kisses down my jawline, moving to my neck, “Not mad,” he mumbles against my warm skin, causing my heart to skip a beat. 

His hand slips under my shirt and we begin to dance our way to the bed before he pushes me to fall to the bed.

Before anything more, Harry’s phone begins to ring, causing him to drag his mouth from my own, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Harry huffs, reaching over and grabbing his phone from the side table. “Hello?” Harry snaps in an unhappy tone, making it a point to show he has been inconvenienced. “Matthew, I’m busy right now, I can’t drive…. What? You’re out front already? Well, fuck, give me a few minutes to get dressed…” Harry hangs up the phone and looks at me. “Anna, I’m so sorry…” 

I shake my head and heavily sigh, “It’s fine. What’s happening?” 

Harry kisses my cheek before forcing himself off the bed and makes his way towards some of his clothes his Mum graciously bought him, “I have to work with Matthew.” 

“What do you mean?” I question, unsure of what Harry means. He shouldn’t be having to work, he’s on my service and there is nothing for him to do besides make sure I’m safe. My parents are in other places, so it isn’t as though he had to escort them anywhere. 

Harry’s hesitant to speak and takes a moment of silence to gather the right words to say, “We need to handle some stuff at Windsor and Buckingham.” 

“You’re driving back to London? I don’t think you should be driving at this hour.” 

Harry shakes his head, “Matthew is.” 

“Why though?” 

“Anastasia, you don’t want to know.” 

I shake my head and sigh, “I’d like to know. Seems suspicious to me.” I am not trying to start an argument by any means, I just want to know where he is going and why. With everything that has happened and how my world is entirely upside down, it makes me feel better to know what is going on instead of being left in he dark or being blindsided. 

“Anna, you make my job hard sometimes,” Harry mutters, “I have to go and help move Victoria.” 

“What?” My eyes grow wide while he does his best to pull on a sweater. 

“You heard me, I need to go move her,” he responds. 

I look at him, bewildered by the fact that he’s having to do such a thing, the sheer idea of him going back in the tunnels to her makes me uneasy. 

I flashback to what I saw in the tunnels and her lifeless body lying on the concrete. 

I don’t want to ask any more questions, I don’t need any more answers, nor do I want to know any. I don’t want to be apart of anything that has to do with Victoria right now. 

♔♔♔ ♔♔♔

I’m pulled from my slumber when Harry gently caresses his hand to my arm and kisses my cheek, “Hey, Baby,” Harry whispers, “I’m home.”

I gradually push myself up on my elbow, grasping my focus as Harry kisses my forehead, “Go back to sleep.” Harry adjusts the covers, drawing them more towards my side of my bed before placing a phone down on my side table, “Your new phone to call your parents off.” 

“Why do I need a new phone?” I tiredly question, unsure of why the old one that I have is being replaced. 

“Precautions to make sure it isn’t tapped and tracked, I will get rid of your old one when I wake up. Now, go back to sleep.” 

Ever since Harry left, I’ve been uneasy and sick to my stomach, I’m not sure what it is but even just hearing her name managed to unsettle me. I move to sit up against the pillows while Harry places his phone and wallet on the side table on my side as well, “Go to sleep, it’s four in the morning.” 

I shake my head and Harry sits down on the edge beside me, “Why? Are you having nightmares about everything?” He softly asks, remembering the last time I was up here and the fact Henry left me with nightmares the first night.  

“No… I’m not feeling too well.” 

Harry presses his hand to my forehead, “Well, no temperature. Do you want me to go get you anything?” 

“No, it’s okay,” I half-smile at him, “Get in bed, you’re probably exhausted.” 

Harry shakes his head, “Move forward a bit,” Harry instructs, gently pressing his hand to my back, “I’ll stay up with you,” he continues, beginning to rub soothing circles on my back. “Would you like tea or a heating pad?” 

“I’d like for life to settle down, Harry.” 

“I am doing my best to make it happen.”

“You can’t,” I sigh. 

There isn’t much that Harry can do to settle life and normalise things. None of this is his fault, my family issues do not stem from him, but I can’t help but continue to replay the conversation in my head that he has with his sister. 

Harry doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve inconsistency and scrutiny of things. He deserves a lovely girl who is normal, someone that will make sure dinner is on the table when he gets home from a long day at work and will pour him a drink to his liking. Harry deserves someone who isn’t in the spotlight of the world and who doesn’t need to be watched twenty-four-seven. Although I am aware that he does deserve better, the selfish part of me doesn’t want to care. 

Harry swears up and down this is what he wants and that he is aware of what he is getting into, but due to the current events, I don’t even know what I am getting into anymore. I don’t know what each day will hold, for all I know, by tomorrow morning I could be whisked off to America because there is suddenly another threat— things are unpredictable.

“Harry,” I begin with a soft voice, “Is this what you want?” 

“To be awake at this hour? No.” Harry shakes his head. 

I don’t think anyone wants to be awake at this hour.

“No,” I shake my head, “Us? Getting married and being apart of royalty.” 

Harry continues to rub my back, “I want to marry you, I thought that was pretty clear.” 

“But you do know it won’t be easy, right? You know that being married to a Queen will have disadvantages, right?” 

“I accepted that when you said you would not abdicate and refuse the crown. I want to marry you, where is all this coming from?” 

“If it came down to it, Harry, I would give up the crown for us, but right now I cannot. There is nobody to take it that is a good fit, the monarch would go into the hands of a distant cousin and I don’t want to risk that. I don’t want to risk us either, it is going to be hard, it won’t be easy, and… and you won’t have as much freedom, you deserve the life you want to live.” 

“Mhm,” Harry hums, “Anna, did my sister say something to you?” Harry instantly questions. 

I shake my head, “No.” 

“You heard her conversation, didn’t you?” 

I don’t respond, I stay closed-lipped and allow the silence to penetrate the bedroom. “Shouldn’t eavesdrop, darling,” Harry heavily sighs before I feel him press a kiss to my shoulder, “I know what I am getting into, my sister overstepped her mark, I can make my decisions. I want to marry you, let’s get some sleep.” Harry continues, moving to kiss my cheek, “I love you, don’t forget that,” Harry adds, carefully moving beside me. 

“Just making sure this is what you want.” 

“If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here.” 

“You have no choice, you’re the bodyguard,” I chuckle. 

Harry shakes his head, “I don’t have to be in bed with you, and I don’t have to be planning a wedding. Don’t overthink it, ignore my sister. Your bodyguard is tired and would like to sleep.” Harry presses, pulling the covers over his body

♔♔♔

Harry’s POV

The rain has been falling heavily for the last hour, and it's almost like the heavens have ultimately decided to open up and they don’t want to close. 

I stare down at the steam emanating from my hot tea, my hands cupped around the edges, the heat radiating warmth through my body. 

I should be curled up in bed with the gracious covers around me and my beautiful partner beside me, asleep, instead, I’m perched at the kitchen table, staring into an abyss of a cup looking for answers that I’m sure I won’t be able to discover. Most people find answers at the bottom of a bottle, and I am almost at the point of finding a bottle of whiskey but I don’t think that will solve much. 

There are a few things I need to figure out.

Why Victoria is dead and why she was in the tunnels.

How long before Victoria is reported missing and whether she will be found.

How I explain things to Anastasia.

When will things go back to normal? 

If I could come up with a resolution for everything, perhaps life would be a little bit more indulgent, unfortunately, at some point, things became so hectic that I don’t have any answers. I think the next time I have a cup of coffee, I will need to add a shot of whiskey to it. I require something to help calm me down and soothe these damn questions that I can’t figure out. I feel as though I am attempting to piece together a puzzle that doesn’t have all the pieces. I am sure that the king has more pieces to this puzzle that he will not reveal just yet. 

I can’t begin to imagine how Anastasia feels, it lies heavily on my mind and I don’t know how to ask her how she is processing everything. Even if she does open up and tell me how she feels about the chaos, there isn’t much I can do besides console her and hold her. I am useless purely because I do not have answers for any of the questions that could be asked. I  know she will have questions, she always has questions. 

“Why do you look so glum?” My sister distracts me from my drowning thoughts. 

I glance up from my mug and discover my sister stepping closer, her hair thrown up in a bun and her sweater falling off her shoulder as she yawns. 

“I thought you moved out years ago?” 

She rolls her eyes at my comment, “Likewise… Some of us visit our mother and stay for a few days.” 

I don’t respond, I just take a sip of my tea, not wanting to banter with her at this hour. “So, why are you so glum? Where’s your princess?” 

I glare at my sister and she curls her lips up into a smirk. She’s doing this to purposely piss me off. 

As kids, we continuously took the piss out of each other and found ways to get under each other’s skin, and usually, I’d be all for our banter, but right now, I’m exhausted and I don’t want backhanded comments… especially when it comes to Anna who is on the direct path of an emotional breakdown. 

“Do you not like her or something?” I asked with irritation, unsure of where my sister stands when it comes to my relationship. 

Whether my sister likes her or not, it doesn’t change my decisions of marrying her, but I’d still like to know my sister’s thoughts. 

“I do,” my sister nods. 

“Then what is with the damn comments when it comes to my relationship.” 

My sister lifts her shoulders into a shrug, “Daddy Issues.” 

I roll my eyes and sigh, “You’re annoying. Dad treated you well…. daddy issues my fucking ass,” I shake my head at her, attempting not to laugh at her comment. 

Contrary to popular belief, we always got along with our father, he wasn’t the villain in our family story. Our parents went their separate ways but it wasn’t for any drastic reason like he was an asshole or cheated, no. 

Our parents outgrew each other and weren’t on the same path when it came to life— they had different goals and aspirations— they were perfect for each other until they weren’t. They served their purpose together and split ways civilly. They can see each other in the street and have a conversation, and they can see each other at family events pertaining to my sister and me, there’s no issue there. 

“I like her, I do, I just like to aggravate you. Can’t believe my little brother is in love.” 

“Mhm… Well, it would be nice if you were a little nicer to her. I know being nice isn’t apart of your personality, but she could use with nice people around her.” 

My sister isn’t the nicest of people sometimes, she is a hard person to read. My sister is highly sarcastic, sassy and very hard to get a grip on whether she likes you or not. There is a fine line between her liking you and disliking you— a fine line that is hard to distinguish. 

“I’m nice,” my sister defends, “I bought her clothes!” 

“Gemma…” I trail off, “She heard our conversation yesterday and thinks you don’t approve of her.” 

“Harry, that was me just looking out for you and making sure you know what you’re getting into. I read the news articles, I’ve read the biographies of past royals—“ 

“That’s different. I don’t care what you read and how you keep up with the history of the royals, but be nice to her, and don’t give her any doubts.” 

“She has doubts?” My sister questions.

I nod my head, “She heard our conversation and cried over it, so just keep your comments to a minimum.” 

“Is that why you’re so glum and seem like you’ve had your firstborn son taken from you?” 

I shake my head and leave my cup on the table before I bury my face into my hands and rub my face out of frustration and exhaustion. “I have a girl in there sleeping while her world is turned upside down. I haven’t slept because I had the privilege of moving a corpse, and if that isn’t enough, some of Anastasia’s jewellery was taken from Buckingham and I don’t know how to tell her.” 

“What kind of jewellery?” 

“Her expensive pieces and the ones I bought her. I don’t know how they took her stuff but didn’t manage to take the royal collections.” 

“Have you checked the pawn shops?” 

“Gemma,” I begin, “I haven’t had time to track down her jewellery, I was busy moving a fucking body.” 

“Are you going to tell her?” 

“I don’t want to… maybe? I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing. Starting to think running away with her is the best option.” 

In all honesty, life would be better off somewhere else, less drama. 

“Give me a list of items taken and I’ll find them. You should tell her, don’t have a closed-off communication, that will make things worse.” 

“What are you? Sherlock Holmes?” … “I don’t know if she can handle it, Gemma.”

I don’t want this to be what pushes her over the edge. 

“I have a few friends in the jewellery industry, just give me a list and we will see what we can do.” 

“Where were your jewellery friends when I was looking for a diamond ring?”  

“You never told me you were looking for a ring,” Gemma responds with a chuckle. 

She has a point, I did not tell my sister, sometimes I don’t confide in her all the time, she tends to come to me more than I go to her when it comes to things

“Mhm,” I hum, “I need you to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity or people around here. If anyone saw us moving the body, they’ll come for me or her family.”

“Oh, great, so we are at threat?” 

“Not you,” I shake my head. “Just me, her and her family. Nothing major,” I half-smile, trying not to scare my sister, “I’m going to go back to bed now and check on Anna,” I dismiss my sister before she can say anything in return. 

I walk down the hallway with my thoughts rattling my brain. 

How am I meant to tell her someone somehow stole some of her personal items? 

It is incredibly creepy that someone managed to get in her room. It had to have been done while we were away or after we had moved them into Windsor. I’m not sure how anyone can get into Buckingham and take her jewels, Buckingham is highly surveillance. 

I’m not sure what I’m meant to say to her, “Good morning, I love you… oh, and by the way, some of your jewellery was stolen.” — I don’t think that would be suitable for a morning wake up call. 

As my hand reaches for the doorknob of my old childhood bedroom, my phone rings. I heavily sigh and quickly grab it from the pocket of my sweatpants and quickly answer it, not wanting to wake Anastasia or my mother down the hallway. 

“Hello?” 

“Harry, my best pal,” Matthew cheers on the other end of the phone. 

I raise a brow, well aware that he’s trying to butter me up, “I saw you a few hours ago, what do you need?” 

“We need to have a bonding session.” 

“We bonded last night,” I respond, “I don’t think we need to bond,” I chuckle, walking towards the living room to pace the area without disturbing anyone. 

“I think we do.” 

“What needs to be done this time?” I sigh, unsure of what entails this bonding session. 

Surely it can’t be worse than last night. 

“We need to report to the king.” 

“He’s in the Netherlands,” I remind Matthew. 

“I’m aware, he needs us, we have things to take care of.” 

“What does this entail?” 

Matthew goes quiet before he clears his throat, “My engine light is flashing red like a code red sort of flashing, you should look at it. Come outside and look at it,” Matthew instructs, forcing me to read between the lines. 

Code red… code red… code red means the king needs us to do something under the radar that shouldn’t be spoken about over the phone or with anybody else. 

I hang up my phone and I walk my way to the front door. I take a break and I open the door to Matthew standing on the porch with an umbrella by his side. “Get your shit, we’re flying to the king.” Matthew bluntly instructs, not batting an eye with his instructions.

I heavily sigh, “Matthew, what do we have to do?” 

“I don’t know yet… but it isn’t pretty.” 

“Matthew, I physically can’t do any more dirty work, I can barely move my shoulder at this point,” I inform Matthew of the fact I’m not meant to be hauling dead bodies off and tampering with evidence to take the media attention away from the King and his family. 

I’m meant to still be on bed rest and taking it easy. I wish I was bedridden with morphine, this shit is getting to be too much to have to handle.

Matthew nods his head, “I understand, but this is important, code red sort of important, just like last night was a code red. Let’s go, you’ll be back tonight.” 

“Let me tell them I’m leaving,” I respond before stepping back inside the house. 

I find Gemma at the table with her iPad and a cup of coffee in her hand, her eyes gazing up towards me while I walk closer, “I need to go, tell mum I’ll be back tonight, be nice to Anastasia and tell mum to check the security systems, keep the doors locked.” 

“Do I need to be—“ 

“No,” I cut my sister off, “You don’t need to be concerned, just precautionary,” I respond, walking away from her before she can say anything. 

I step into my bedroom and walk closer to the bed, I sit on the edge beside Anastasia’s sleeping body. I gently press my hand to her arm, “Hey, sweetheart,” I whisper, slowly waking her up, “Hey, it’s just me,” I assure her as soon as her eyes open. 

“Harry,” she mumbles my name sleepily, causing me to smile. 

“I have to go, I’ll be back tonight, don’t worry though, you’re safe with Mum. Call me if you need me,” I lean down and kiss her forehead, “The gun is in the drawer beside you, Mum and my sister know what to do if anything happens, not that it will, just makin’ sure okay?” 

Anastasia hums her response and I adjust the covers for her and stand to my feet. Her hand wraps around my wrist and I look down at her, “Be careful, okay?”

I nod my head, “I will, I love you.” 

“Promise? I love you too.” 

“I promise,” I agree, giving her a small smile before taking my keys and wallet off the side table and stepping out of the bedroom. 

♔♔♔

I walk through the front door of my mother's house, more than thankful to finally be home. I feel the warmth wrap around my body and welcome me, and I couldn’t be happier. The flight home was fucking cold after we were stuck in the rain for a while, not to mention the drive from the airport to my mothers was just as miserable, Matthews rental car didn’t have heat, we both shivered and cussed the world for our problems. We tried to stop at the liquor store to find a bottle of whiskey to warm us up, but they were closed, we even tried to find a hotel but all hotels had no vacancy out here, so we suffered through the cold. 

I wander down the hallway and my mother stands to her feet from the couch, instantly coming to me, “You look like hell.” 

“Thanks, you’re so sweet,” I chuckle as she takes my shirt and jacket from my arm, “Mum, I can wash it and—“ 

She cuts me off, “Shut up,” my mother shakes her head checking to make sure the pockets are empty, “You’re cold, here grab a blanket,” my mother frets, stepping away and grabbing a blanket from the couch, wrapping it around me like a little kid. 

“Thanks, Mum,” I smile at her before I kiss her cheek. “I appreciate you, how was your day?” 

“Clearly better than yours,” My mum grins and I nod my head in agreement. I think most people have had a better day than I have. “I spent it inside reading and helping your sister sew, I don’t know why she wants to sew but she doesn’t need to be near my sewing machine,” my mother chuckles sweetly to herself. 

I can only imagine how it turned out with my sister sewing or attempting to sew. My sister is very talented but there are just some things she shouldn’t even try, sewing and most crafts are not one.

“I’d take teaching her to sew over what I had to do, any day.” 

“What did you have to do?” 

I shake my head, “I can’t talk about it, I’m not allowed to… maybe later I can tell you, just not right now,” I respond. 

My mother nods her head and shrugs, she knows there are some things better left unsaid, and today is one of them, “Anastasia has been quiet, slept most the day, I think something is wrong.” 

“Is she still unwell? I’ll check on her.” 

“She didn’t seem too well, but we did talk a little about the wedding. She is excited about it, by the way, but she hasn’t had a chance to try on dresses.” 

“I’ll take care of it, if it ever stops raining, I have a plan.” 

“And that is?” My mother questions curiously. 

“I’ll tell you more In the morning, goodnight, Mum.” I cheekily grin, folding up the blanket and placing it down before walking into the kitchen to make a tea. 

♔♔♔ 

I enter my bedroom and close the door behind me silently, just in case Anastasia is sound asleep. I observe Anna curled up in the bed, the comforter wrapped around her, “Hey,” she smiles tiredly towards me. 

“Hey, Mum said you still weren’t feeling well, thought I’d bring you a tea,” I hold up the mug, stepping closer to her and sitting on the edge of the bed beside her while she sits up. 

“Thanks, where have you been?” 

I grow withdrawn for a moment, unsure of what to tell her, I didn’t think of the cover story that I would tell her, it didn’t cross my mind. I have been too busy to thin about what to tell her.  “Harry?” She takes the cup from my hand and narrows her eyes down on me. 

“I’m not allowed to talk about.” 

“But…” 

“I was with your Dad, he says hi,” I inform her of her father’s request. The brief times I did manage to speak to him, he was insistent that I make sure I pass his message on, “He loves you and can’t wait to give you a hug.” 

“Sounds shady.” 

She isn't wrong, it is ALL shady; I would prefer to forget about the last few nights that have occurred.

“That’s because it is,” I nod my head, “It isn’t getting any better at this point.”

“I told you I think he’s losing his mind.” 

“I would be too if I had angry people coming after me,” I mutter, “But it's okay,” I quickly assure her, not wanting to scare her any further or cause her more stress. I am doing my best to destress her situations and fix things. 

Anastasia heavily sighs and rolls her eyes, “Is there a way to fix the mess he has created?” 

“Sort of.” 

“Then why don’t we do it?” 

“Anna—“ 

“Don’t leave me in the dark, Harry, it isn’t fair. I’m just as affected by this mess.” 

“You really don’t want to know my solution.” 

“Why? Why are we not going ahead with the solution.” 

“It’s highly illegal.” 

“I’m not sure I understand.” 

“Anastasia… How do you deal with people who have too much power, such as those in the mafia or with affiliations with the mafia?” 

“I don’t know, Harry. Stop cat and mousing me, tell me your plan.” Anna snaps before pressing her fingers to her temple and rubbing her temple. 

I wish I could fix things for her and give her a normal life. I am doing my best but right now, I am failing. 

I sigh as she takes a sip of her tea, “Anna… fight fire with fire…” 

Her eyes burn with hatred as she glares towards me, her lips screwed into irritation, “You’re being annoying.” 

“Jus’ don’t worry about it, okay?” I lean over and kiss her forehead. “Let me handle it.” 

“I don’t like how you’re handling it.” 

“Well, I am sorry. How are you feeling?” 

“You’re changing the subject,” Anastasia is prompt to point out the obvious. 

There are some things that are better left unsaid. Where I was and what I was doing is best unknown at the moment. 

“What happened to you? What’s on your shirt?” Anastasia leans forward and presses her hand to my shirt, looking closely. 

I look down and grab the white material between my fingers, stretching it so I can what Anna is looking at.

Fuck. 

“Oh, Matthew accidentally cut himself trying to open a box and I guess he got his blood on me, no big deal,” I lie straight to her face, beginning to unbutton my shirt, wasting no time with sliding it down my arms as I stand to my feet. 

“Do you want to lie to me again?”

“No, but I need to talk to you about something, some of your jewellery has been taken.” 

Anastasia doesn’t respond and I turn to gaze at her over my shoulder, “Anna?” 

“I heard you. There’s nothing I can do, it is just jewellery.” 

“I will get it back for you, I will do my best, darling, I promise.” 

“You got mail, it is on the dresser over there,” Anastasia points to the dresser and I step closer to it, taking the envelopes in my hand. 

“These are for you,” I inform her, looking down at the envelopes that seem familiar, they’re dressed as they would be If they were going to the palace for her to read and reply back with, but there is something odd about the envelopes, they’re all the same with the same handwriting but one is addressed to me. “Where did you get these?” 

“Your sister said they were in the mail, I haven’t opened it, I assumed mine were letters from the public for me to read and reply to, I just haven’t had the energy to do it.” 

“No, but how did they get here?” 

“I am guessing my carrier, Harry,” Anastasia responds, “How else would they get here? Throw me mine so I know whether I need to reply to them.” 

I shake my head, flipping the letters over and seeing that there is no return address, “Baby, these aren’t forwarded from the Palace,” I inform her, placing hers back down on the dresser and sliding my finger through the edge of the one addressed to me. 

“How do you know?” 

“I didn’t give the Palace a forwarding address for your mail.”

“Why not? I still have duties to attend to.” 

“First of all, you’re sick and don’t need to be worrying about it, second of all, it isn’t safe to have mail forwarded because then people will know where you are.” 

“You don’t need to tell me what I need to be worrying about,” Anastasia responds, not too pleased with my comment. 

“Okay,” I sigh, “Fair point, I was out of line, but nobody needs to know where you are right now,” I return, unfolding my letter and opening it up to read what it says. 

“I know about you and Anastasia, you can run but you can’t hide.” 

I take a breath and fold the letter back up, grabbing Anastasia’s as well in my hand. “What are the letters for?” 

I rub a hand over my dark stubble before shaking my head, “Nothing, I’m going to take a shower.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with my father.” 

“What?” I question as Anastasia pushes the covers off her body and gets out of bed. 

“You heard me, you’re acting just as shady as he is, and quite honestly, I don’t like it.” 

“You’re paranoid, go back to bed,” I respond, stepping into the bathroom and flicking the light on, only for Anastasia to follow me. “Are you joining me in the shower?” I raise a brow cheekily, attempting to distract her from the argument she is most likely ready to create— she has a valid reason for being irritated and wanting answers, but I don’t need her to worry. I don’t want her to be consumed even further by what is happening or by what could happen. 

I am trying my best to protect her from the shit show that is currently going on, she has dealt with more than enough and at this point, I am going to do everything that I can to not push her over the fucking edge. I know she is close to the edge and I will be damned if she goes over it. 

“I don’t think I am paranoid, Harry. I don’t like this. Why can’t you be honest with me?” Anastasia questions while I turn the knob to begin the water to heat up. 

I turn to face her and I step closer to her, “I am being honest, believe me when I say there are some things better left unknown, please don’t make this harder than what it already is.” 

Anastasia pulls her hand away from my own and stares at me relentlessly, “Seems like everything is left unknown until it boils into something bad that can’t be hidden.” 

I nod my head, “What is it you want to know?” 

“Where were you?” 

“With your Father. We had to have a private conversation, can I have my shower now?” 

“This conversation isn’t over,” Anastasia dismisses me and I heavily sigh as she storms out of the bathroom. 

This is bound to be an interesting night. Just when I thought that things could possibly settle down, I now have to face her. I lean on the vanity and stare into the mirror, taking in deep breaths in an attempt to think things through in a way that won’t destroy her.  

I am not sure how to explain the mail, unfortunately, this isn’t the first letter I have received in the last month or so, I don’t think it will be the last, but I do know that it seems like whoever is sending these letters knows my every move. Nobody knows that we are here beside her parents and Matthew, the new guy doesn't even know, Matthew put him on paid leave until we need him. The only thing I can think of is someone within the palace staff has managed to figure things out and is trying to leak information… I highly doubt her parents would be behind the letters, although that would be a plot twist, I can’t say that it wouldn’t be something that could happen, after all, nothing seems to be off the table at this point. It is time I tell Matthew about the mail I have been receiving, and it is time for us to come up with a plan to figure out who is behind it all. At first, I didn’t think much of it all, but now with them sending things to my mother's house, it shows they are watching me- they’re watching Anna. 

I pick up the envelope with Anastasia’s name on the front of it and I open it, holding my breath with every inch of the paper that rips between my fingers. I take the piece of paper out, slowly unfolding it before I read the ink scribbled on the paper. 

“I know about you and Harry… It will all be revealed soon. Stay alert, Princess, you’re next.”

I fold the letter back up and I place it in the envelope, not wanting to even see what the other one says. I believe these are empty threats by someone bored and lonely, probably a normal civilian, but at the same time, there is a part of me that is concerned it is one of the people who Is after her father. They’re not going to stop until the Ace’s get what they want and the King refuses to give up his power and money to them. He has paid his dues and that isn’t enough for that money-hungry family. 

It could be Henry, I wouldn’t be too surprised if he is the one behind this, but I have this feeling the reasons for his previous behaviours weren't based on his logical thinking but more so his mothers. I think his mother was behind a lot of his erratic and psychotic behaviour, I think his mother is the true evil one. I am not remorseful that she is no longer living, quite honestly, it was just a matter of time before she did more damage to Anastasia’s family. Anna doesn’t know this, but I have been watching Victoria from the moment I met her at the Garden party. On my off days, I would do my best to follow her in an attempt to figure her out, she didn’t do many things out of the ordinary, but there were a few red flags that I did take note off, none of which were enough to build too much against her in such a short time. Matthew did his best to keep track of Henry and Victoria and the one thing we can’t seem to figure out is… Who is Henry’s father? 

There is no name attached to the man that the King was talking to, there was never a man around at the Garden event that introduced himself as Henry’s father. I have tried to look up birth certificates but I can’t find Henry’s, I can’t even find Victoria’s marriage certificate. 

I push away from the vanity and take my suit pants off, dropping my clothes to the floor before getting in the shower. The steaming hot water hits my body and I feel a sense of stress leaving my body for a brief moment. My body isn’t cold and shivering and all the negative things that I have dealt with in the last two days are washing down the drain, hopefully, to never return. 

My shower wasn’t as peaceful as I had hoped, my thoughts kept reminding me of everything happening, almost to the point I wish I had an excuse to call the nurse for more morphine, although my shoulder is still painful, there is no way the King or Matthew will allow me to sleep peacefully with morphine and no pain and no worries. Oh, how I took it for granted to be able to sleep all day and not deal with the issues happening in the Royal world. 

I step out of the shower and Anastasia is leaning on the doorframe with a blanket wrapped around her body, I raise a brow but I do not say anything as she watches me reach for my towel and wrap it around my lower body. From the way her lips are pressed firmly together and the way her eyes watch my every move, she isn’t watching me because she finds me charming and good looking, no, she is watching me because she has things to say or she is trying to read me in an attempt to figure shit out. 

I shuffle closer to her and press a kiss to her cheek as I slide past her, still not saying a word. I step towards the clothes my mother bought me and I pull out a clean pair of sweatpants, wasting no time with pulling them up my legs before running the towel through my hair to dry it briefly. I place the towel in the hamper and glance over to Anastasia who has her arms crossed over her chest. “How’d you get the blood on your white shirt? That is going to be hard to get out.” Anastasia gestures towards the shirt I let fall to the floor before I went into the bathroom. 

I heavily sigh as I pick it up from the floor, “I told you.” 

“That was a lie, you and I know that.” 

“Anastasia, please don’t,” I shake my head. I don’t want to explain today to her. 

“You’re unbelievable.” 

“Please, don’t be mad with me, it is for your own-“ 

Anastasia rolls her eyes, “Jus’ don’t worry about it,” Anastasia cuts me off, “I hope you’re not turning into my father, I really don’t.” Anastasia informs me as she walks into the bathroom. 

“Anna, don’t be angry with me,” I slump my shoulders as she closes the door. 

I fall to the edge of the bed and run my fingers through my hair. I have fucked up with not telling her, I do not blame her for being upset, but as I have said, it is for her safety. I am not sure who I am attempting to convince more, myself or her. 

It is hard to draw a line between my job and being her partner, sometimes there isn’t even a line, sometimes I have to choose which one I want to take the role of. 

After a few minutes of staring at the bathroom door, waiting for her to exit, I force myself to my feet and walk to the door, I knock on the door, “Anna? I know you’re mad but you don’t need to lock yourself in the bathroom.” … “Anna? Are you okay?” I question, getting no response before I take it upon myself to open the door. 

I see Anastasia resting on the floor with her back against the bathtub, “The world doesn’t revolve around you,” she half chuckles, “Do you really think I would lock myself in here because I am mad?” 

“Well… I-, I I am an idiot, we know this already… You okay?” 

“I have never been better, I mean, after all, I have no clue what is happening with anything, I fell over a dead body, I have been whisked away from my home indefinitely because people are after my father, and to top it off, my soon to be husband is acting weird and shady.” 

“I meant how you felt.” 

Anastasia simply shakes her head and I sit down beside her, I slip my arm around her lower back and she rests her head on my shoulder, “Not trying to argue with you, or be mad with you, Harry.” Anastasia softly whispers, “I just hate all of this. I don’t want you to be like Dad.”

“I know, baby, I know,” I nod my head even though she can’t see me. “I do too. I am not your Dad. I just work for him and take his orders.” 

“Are we going to get through all of this, Harry?” 

“We will, it’ll all be okay,” I assure her, attempting to comfort her even though I don’t know what’ll happen next. I can’t tell her that it’ll be smooth sailing from here because I don’t know if it will, but I do know that she and I will be okay. 

“You’re not going to want to leave?” 

“Of course not, nothing your father causes will make me want to leave. I’m here for the long haul, I’m here to hold your hair when you’re sick, even if you’re mad at me,” I inform her and she gently nudges me. 

“I’m not mad,” she mumbles. 

I’m here to be a shoulder you can cry on, I’m here for it all. I’m here for all the good times and the bad times, I’m here for as long as you’ll have me. I’m in this completely. I hate that you’re doubting me though.” 

“Everything is just a mess.” 

“It’ll all be okay, do you want to get in bed? It’s a bit warmer than these cold tiles.” 

“No, I feel sick.” 

“Okay, we will stay here,” I respond, kissing the top of her head. 

“You can go to bed, I’ll be fine.”

“And what fun will that be? Won’t have you to steal the covers,” I half-heartedly joke with her, trying my best to lighten the mood. “Plus, when the wife says to go back to bed, you never go back to bed, it’s a catch. Never leave the wife when she’s unwell.” 

“You left me today.” 

“I had to and you were asleep.” 

“Left your sick fiancé to see my father.” 

“Your father pays my bills,” I respond with a small laugh. 

“Mhm,” Anastasia hums, “Do you love me enough to go to the store and get me anti-nausea meds? this is horrible.” 

“I would, but everything closes out here at ten. We can call your royal doctor, she has all sorts of great meds.” 

“You really love her, don’t ye’?” Anastasia finally manages to giggle, “Must have been some strong stuff,” she nudges me playfully. 

“The best sleep of my life, she had me feeling great for the first two days. Then reality hit.” 

“I don’t want to bother her, she’ll have to drive up here and it’s too much of a hassle.” … “I’ll survive. So… will you tell me what’s in those envelopes up there?” 

“Nope.” I honestly respond. 

“Nothing is stopping me from getting up and grabbing them.” 

“You don’t have the energy for that, if you did, you’d have done it already.” 

“Fair point,” Anastasia agrees, “I’m sorry about earlier and throwing a fit.” 

“You have every right to feel how you do and want answers, but it’s in your best interest not to know them, it’ll stress you out, I rather if you let me stress over it instead, okay?” 

“It’s hard. Harry. I feel like everything is crumbling around me. I can handle it, I don’t need to be protected.” 

“It is crumbling, I won’t lie, it is a shit show.” 

“Way to go in being comforting.” 

“I won’t lie to you about it, everything is crumbling around us but at the end of the day, you’re safe, your parents are safe and it’ll all be okay.” 

“You keep saying that… who are you trying to convince? You or myself?” 

“Both,” I respond in all honesty. “Love, I want us to have an open communication, I don’t want us to hide things.”  

“Well, that is a little far fetched considering your job, darling,” Anastasia points out. 

I can’t say she is wrong, she has a valid point, but she is missing what I am trying to say, “I do my best to communicate, I only hide things when I need too,” … “Not that it makes it any better, I just-, I want you to know I am doing my best with balancing both and I am not trying to hide things, I just have to sometimes…” 

“Shhh, I know, quit fretting, I get it, I do. It is frustrating, but I understand, I just had a moment earlier, Harry. No need to keep worrying over it.” 

I let out a breath of relief and hold her a little closer to me, grateful that we have the sort of relationship where we can talk things out, we might get mad, but we don’t give up, we come to terms with things, we consider each other’s feelings and we get through it. 

“Harry, we do need to talk about our marriage though.” 

“What about it?” 

“How it will affect you… Harry, I will be Queen within the next year, my father wanted to hand it over by the end of the year, December isn’t too far off, I don’t know whether he still will pass it down but if he does, your life changes unless we continue to keep it quiet.” 

“Well, since Henry isn’t married to you, I don’t think you will be becoming Queen. The whole point was for Henry to gain a higher title than what he already has. And, if you do become Queen, we will cross that bridge when we get there, I think we should hold off going public, but your family should at least know.” 

“You okay with just taking it day-by-day to see what happens with the crown?” 

I’m not sure why she has so many doubts when I have done my best to reassure her, I can only thank my sister for this one. Anastasia wasn’t this doubtful until meeting my sister. 

“Of course,” I nod my head, “But, do I get to wear a crown and a robe like they do in movies?” 

“What the fuck kind of movies do you watch? No, Harry. You don’t get to walk around with a crown and a cape. Do I walk around with a crown on?” Anastasia questions. 

“No… You never wear a tiara, why?” 

"Single ladies don't typically wear tiaras unless they are born into the Royal Family as a princess. Tiaras are not worn before 6 p.m.. They are worn on formal white tie events and state occasions such as state banquets. For the most part, I have skipped these events up until the last two years, which, my mother and father have not given me a tiara to wear… Once I am married or Queen, I will wear one or I can wear a crown.” Anastasia informs me on the etiquette of crowns and tiaras. I don’t know the difference between the two, and due to not wanting to sound like a moron, I don’t want to ask her what the difference is. 

“So… I don’t get a crown?” I curiously question. 

I don’t give a flying fuck on whether I am entitled to wear a crown or not. I’m not in this for the family jewels, the crowns, estates or anything. Quite frankly, none of that means a bloody thing to me, I’m in this for Anna. 

“You can wear a gold coronet.”

I gasp, “I don’t want a knockoff crown.” I respond, unsure of what a coronet is, but it sounds close enough to a crown. I can only assume it’s a step down from a crown. 

“Fine,” Anna chuckles, “I will bestow upon you a crown you can wear. I am sure there is one in the family, we have many jewels and crowns.” 

“Great, and can I also require a robe?” 

Anna laughs, “Don’t push your luck.”

“Can I have my own crown?” 

“For my coronation, the royal jeweller can make you your bloody crown.” 

“They should match, somehow… You know?” 

I wonder how long she’ll keep this conversation with me, I don’t mean any of it, like I’ve said, I don’t give a rats ass about the crown, I’m currently trying to keep her occupied in an attempt to make her feel better. 

“I love how you’re more interested in your crown than the fact you will have a lot of power.” 

“How will I have power?” 

I have enough power as it is, any more and it might get to my head. 

“Sweetheart, everyone will have to curtsey to you… Every member of the royal family will have to bow or curtsy to you…. But the future Queen thinks it’s time for bed, sitting on this cold floor isn’t going to cut it.” 

I stand to my feet and offer my hand to help her up, she presses her hand with my own and I gently pull her to her feet, “I do have another question though regarding the royal ways,” I begin. 

“Mhm,” Anna hums as we begin to walk out of the bathroom and into my bedroom. 

“If we were to have kids…. How do we raise them?” 

“Already anticipating children?” 

“No, you mentioned while I was carrying you out of the tunnel that we weren’t having kids, but if we do… do we have to raise them royally?” 

“Uhm….” Anastasia pauses to think for a moment, looking over at me, “We will decide how we raise our children, I will leave the monarch before I allow them to tell me what to do with our hypothetical children. If I’m Queen, I call the shots.” 

“Mhm…. And will they be raised in a royal way? Will they have a title?”

“Unless we choose otherwise…. I don’t know if I want kids to have to go through what I have as a royal. I wouldn’t strip them of their title but I don’t know… it’s something to think about after we are married, we’ve barely managed that yet.” … “Let’s just go to bed,” Anastasia smiles over at me and I nod my head with a smile. 

I’m more than happy to get in bed and fall between the sheets with her beside me, but I am distracted by my phone vibrating against the side table. I walk over to it and read the messages on my screen, “I’ll be back in a minute,” I inform Anna before I step out of the bedroom and walk down the hallway to the front door. 

I open the front door and stare at Matthew, “Look, Matthew, if you want me to leave again, I’m not, I haven’t slept much in the last 48 hours, Anna’s sick and I’m not going to—“ 

“Relax,” Matthew interrupts me, “I’m not on your doorstep for another job, I’m here to tell you I’m patrolling the house and watching so you can relax.” 

“Oh.” 

“But I’m glad you’re defensive and don’t want to leave your girlfriend while she’s sick, it’s kinda cute when you’re not the dick of a security guard.” 

“Knock it off, you’re making me sound soft.” 

“You are,” Matthew chuckles, “At least with her, it’s good, you’re getting softer and better at being her partner and not her security guard.” Matthew points out and I nod my head. It’s a transition sometimes to go from a security guard who can’t show much emotion to her boyfriend. 

“Are you done?” I laugh. 

Mathew nods, “Is she okay?” 

“She’s fine, with everything that has happened, her being a little under the weather is a better outcome than her emotionally spiralling, I think it’s the stress that has finally caught up with her.” 

“Does she need the doctor?” 

“No,” I shake my head, “I will put letters in the letterbox, I need you to take them, read them, and find out who’s sending them. They know I’m here and I don’t want to take any chances. They’re involving Anna now,” I inform Matthew of all the letters that I’ve received over the month, plus the ones Anastasia saw that were sent to my mother's house. 

I’ve done my best to keep the letters to myself and Matthew, not wanting to make something out of nothing. 

“Do you have any leads yet?” 

“No… I assume the Ace’s but Victoria is dead so that leaves who? Henry? His unknown father? Their mob? Matthew, the mafia aren’t people I want on my ass or the crooked government officials the king knows.”

“I’ll see what I can find out, just keep her safe and inside.” 

I nod my head, having no intentions of stepping outside with her unless it’s the back garden. “If you don’t mind, I’m going back inside where it’s warm.” 

“Try not to get too soft on me while I’m out here patrolling and keeping your ass safe.” 

“Ya, about time you watch my ass instead of me watching yours,” I respond before stepping back into the house. 

A Few Days Later.

I overhear the sound of the glass doors open as I stand on the back porch, gazing at the garden that is beginning to frail and change colours with the changing of seasons. I turn around and offer my mother a small smile as she closes the door behind her, but she doesn’t smile back at me. 

I cock my head to the side and watch as she fidgets with her hands, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip— she wants to say something, but she doesn’t know-how. 

“Just spit it out,” I distract her from her anxiousness. 

She shakes her head and sits down on the patio furniture, crossing her leg over her knee before tapping her fingers on the armrest, “I know I’m not allowed to ask but…” my mother trials off and I raise a brow, unsure of what question she’s about to ask. All I can gather is that it’s about my job. She’s aware I can’t discuss everything with her, but that doesn’t always mean she doesn’t attempt to ask. “I saw your shirt.” 

“What shirt?” 

“The one you wore the other night.” 

Oh, fuck. Here we go with that white fucking shirt. 

I nod my head, gesturing for her to continue. “It isn’t your blood, if it was then you’d have a wound.” 

“Who says I don’t?” I question, catching my mum off guard. 

My mother stares at me and narrows her eyes down onto me, she’s not thrilled and doesn’t want to participate in my sarcasm and half-assed answers. My mother stands to her feet, steps closer and takes it upon herself to lift my shirt, inspecting my body. 

I gently push her hand away, “If you don’t mind, it’s quite chilly,” I adjust my shirt to cover my torso. 

“Harry—“

“Mum,” I cut her off, “I already had it out with Anastasia over this, please don’t ask questions or read into this.” 

My mother shakes her head at me, “I can’t just not read into it… Surely there’s an explanation.” 

I nod my head, “There is, but I can’t give it to you.” 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have blood-stained shirts in the laundry for me to wash.” 

“I love you, and I appreciate everything you do for me… But, in my defence, I didn’t ask you to wash my clothes or that shirt, I was meant to throw it away. But apparently, everyone wants to see it.” 

“I’m not a fan of this.” 

“Join the club, you and Anastasia can have weekly meetings about it,” I mutter before heavily sighing, “Look, maybe later I can discuss things with you, but right now I can’t. On other news, since the wedding people are setting up, I’d really appreciate it if you and Gemma could participate in this… Help Anastasia pick a dress and get an idea of what she wants.” 

My mother glares at me, “I know you planned this.” 

“What?” 

“You have a wedding designer here bringing in dresses and everything else to keep her mind off of whatever the hell you’ve been up to and whatever it is you’re planning to do.” 

“While you are helping her with a dress, I’ll simply be doing paperwork,” I inform my mother, covering the fact that she’s partially correct. I had planned to surprise Anna with a wedding dress designer for a while, it just happened that right now suites all scenarios, it’ll keep her occupied and away from social media and it’ll give me time to do ‘paperwork.’ 

Of course, my paperwork will include doing some investigating on the Ace’s and the mafia they’re involved with, along with figuring out the whole situation with Victoria in the tunnels, and if I have enough time, I will hopefully manage to figure out where the fuck we are going to go from here. Anastasia and I can’t stay with my mother forever, at some point we will have to move Anna back to Buckingham or one of the other palaces. With us getting married, I’d think it’s suitable that we have a proper conversation about where we plan to live, obviously she’s going to want to choose Buckingham or the palace in Ireland but I think we should have a nice place away from the royal family, perhaps a little cottage. We need a place that’s just for me and her that has no royal affiliation to it. 

“When exactly are you getting married and where?” 

“Where and whenever she picks.” 

“Aren’t you concerned they’ll tell the media?” 

“Confidentiality contract,” I respond, “I’m going to go check on Anastasia,” I dismiss the conversation, mainly because my mothers dagger eyes brutally murder me and I can’t stand it. 

I walk inside and make my way down the hallway catching Anastasia just as she’s stepping out of the bedroom, “Good morning,” I smile, kissing her cheek instantly before bringing her into a warm embrace. She mumbles a good morning into me and I chuckle. “How are you feeling? I just put the kettle on for tea.” 

“I feel a lot better, still a little nauseous but it’s bearable.” 

“You look better than the last few days, no offence... I have a surprise for you,” I inform her, watching as she looks at me with curiosity. 

“Mhm, what is it?” Anastasia hums. 

I intertwine her fingers with mine and lead her to the end of the hallway where the dress designer has been setting up. I open the door and step in the room, allowing Anastasia to see the countless wedding dresses on wracks lined against the wall, “Anastasia, this is Charlotte, a creative director of a luxury fashion house. She will assist you with dresses and if you can’t find one will help design one, if you wish. Charlotte, this is my soon to be wife, Anastasia,” I introduce the two ladies, stepping back as they greet each other. 

“I brought a few dresses for you to look at, try on and see what you like if none of them works we can literally go to the drawing board, whatever you envision is, is what I want to create,” Charlotte sweetly informs Anastasia, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t curtesy,” Charlotte stammers and I can’t help but chuckle to myself. 

It never gets old when people get bent out of shape over curtseying. “Please,” Anna quickly shakes her head, “There’s no need, I’m not a princess, I’m just someone who wants the perfect dress,” Anastasia informs Charlotte. 

“I’ll leave you two to it… Mum and Gemma will come in and help if you’re okay with that, thought you might want some company?” 

“That would be really nice, thank you for this,” Anastasia smiles towards me before stepping closer to me and kissing my lips. 

It’s the least I could do. All she wants is a sense of normalcy, she doesn’t want the big fancy royal wedding with spectators, she isn’t asking for more than having a dress and getting married. I’ll do everything I can to make sure she gets the wedding of her dreams, even if it’s a small ceremony in the back yard with the sheep. 

Anastasia pulls on my hand as I go to walk out and I stop on my tracks, she grows quiet for a moment before leaning up and whispering, “I don’t know if I can afford a designer dress, Harry, without dipping into the royal—“ 

I gently cut her off with a kiss, “Money isn’t a factor.” 

“But.” 

“It’s covered, no matter what you pick, it’s covered. Get the dress of your dreams, don't worry about money or whether the royals will pay for it, I have it covered.” 

“Harry—“ 

I shake my head, “Don’t worry,” I kiss her lips again before walking out of the room, well aware that she’ll stand there and argue with me all day if I’d let her. 

While Anastasia is occupied with the wedding with my mother and sister to soon be right behind her, I slip out of the house and make my way to the parked car on the street. I open the door and relax on the passenger side, “Bloody Hell, do you not know what heat is?” I challenge Matthew with a gasp, leaning forward and turning the heat on, “Seriously, I know you’re older but heat was invented many years ago,” I continue, pressing my hand to the vents. 

“Harry, it is not that cold.” 

“There’s frost on the grass, it is ten degrees this morning.” I point out the fact the grass is insignificantly wet and there is a slight mist of fog lingering from the overnight temperatures.

“Well, put on a jacket,” Mathew smirks, “Besides the point, you’re late, the King has already called.” 

“I had to occupy Anna… I am glad I missed the call, I don’t even want to know what he wants now.” 

I am starting to have this yearning of avoiding the King at all costs, but I obviously can’t, he pays my bills and I am in love with his daughter. I will never get away from him. 

“You don’t get to pick and choose when he is the boss.”

I sigh and look at Mathew, “Anna is being weird with me since I won’t tell her what happened, I can’t do more shady shit,” I inform Mathew, “At least let me marry her before causing problems, she is less likely to leave if we are married.”

Mathew laughs and shakes his head, “That sounds like a great relationship. Either tell her or lie.”

“I don’t want to do either. The king said he would kill us if we told anyone...”

The King was very specific with his instructions. 

“He can’t hurt a fly, he has us do his dirty work, Harry. Do what I do.”

“Lie?” I question, unsure of what he tells his wife when he suddenly has to leave or when he is never home. 

“Tell her you can't talk about things because what was discussed is confidential.” 

“That would be great but my future wife is the future Queen and she saw the blood on my shirt, that is the issue. She wants to know where the blood came from.” 

“Next time, get rid of evidence you moron,” Mathew shakes his head, “Look, tell her someone was hit by  a car and you saved them.” 

“Oh, yes, let me dig myself into more of a hole,” I huff, looking down at my phone and scrolling through my contacts, “The private detective I hired to keep an eye on Henry hasn’t found anything, Henry has been staying at a cottage an hour outside London. A small two-bedroom cottage and a vegetable patch.” 

“Where?” 

“ Singleton, but I don’t know why he has tried to go off the radar and hide… Took a while for the lead.” 

“And what are you going to do with this lead?” Mathew asks. 

“Well, nothing. I can’t do anything, if I do, it would be stupid, he would instantly link me to Victoria’s death, I have to stay quiet… Plus, he isn’t doing anything. Actually, do you think he had anything to do with Victoria’s death?” I curiously begin to question. 

There isn’t much of reasons for Henry to suddenly go into hiding, I didn’t threaten him besides when he tried to take Anna’s horse, he got away with his psychotic behaviour, in fact, I think the King gave back the horse without Anastasia knowing— not that she would care— I don’t think she will ever get on a horse again. 

Mathew stares at me for a moment and thinks, “Unlikely, it is his mother, what motive would he have? Ask the detective where he was that night, plus, nobody knows about Victoria yet, there haven’t even been reports of her missing, the media is quiet.” 

“A little too quiet,” I mutter, “Anyway, what did the King have to say?” 

“We are on media duty, we need to leak a story or two.” 

“What are we leaking?” I ask.

“This is the part you’re not going to like… He wants to use Anastasia as a decoy from everything. He wants the media and the people to believe that she has stepped away from the palace to focus more on her royal duties privately and to better grasp things.”

I roll my eyes, “Not the first time he uses her as a decoy. Why can’t the actual Queen be used? Why is it, Anna?” 

“Well, the Queen isn’t as popular, quite frankly, at this point, nobody gives a damn what the Queen does. Everyone is interested in Anastasia, you are aware she will be Queen soon? She is big news.” 

“Whatever,” I hum, “So we have to leak stories that aren’t true to suit the King’s narrative? Can you do it? I don’t want Anna hating me much more. I don’t want a divorce before I m even married.” I ask Matthew as he begins to drive up the road. 

“I can,” he nods, “But you have to take the next call from the King.” 

I agree and nod my head, taking the file on his dashboard and beginning to read through it to get an understanding of what the King wants and what exactly we need to do.