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blametheeditor · 4 months ago

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Day 25 | Doubt

Gt July Prompt List

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When stranded on an uncharted underwater planet, alone and surrounded by hostile lifeforms, there are only two possible outcomes: adapt and survive, or die trying.

Spoilers: For the game Subnautica

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of death and violence. Mentions of drowning and suffocation. Referring to someone as 'it'. Mentions of dehumanization, experimenting on people. Being held against someone's will.

________________________

Jeremy is not having a good day.

No, he’ll say it! It’s been a no good, horrible, terrible day. One minute he was found by fellow crew members, and the next he was pulled into the murky depths by a giant hand.

A giant hand connected to sharp teeth and powerful mandibles. Belonging to something that spoke common for only a moment before using nothing but horrifying sounds straight out of a nightmare. Who held him underwater using a single finger to pin him down.

And that wasn’t even the worse part! Instead of being let go, he was then kidnapped.

He didn’t know what to think as the leviathan took him far away from the only place he knew was safe. He wasn’t told where he was being taken to or why. Never given any promise he’ll be brought back to the island safety after whatever was going to happen.

Fritz’s reassurances they weren’t going to be hurt fell on deaf ears, because Scott’s terror told him everything he needed to know. Knew his only hope was for Mike to come to his rescue and save him before he’s eaten.

Jeremy’s unsure how long he sat cowering in hands that could crush him at any moment. But they finally open, and he’s sent tumbling through the water with a scream.

There’s a moment of pure panic when he can’t tell which way is up for several seconds. Because if he can’t figure that out, then he’s too dizzy to tell if there’s an open mouth right in front of him. Something could be coming right for him and he wouldn’t know until it’s too late!

Suddenly he feels a poke to his side, and the world stops spinning. Let’s him take in everything around him. Can’t take a single breath at the sight of a finger taller than he is slowly pulling away to reveal a wide smile big enough to swallow him whole sitting only a few feet away.

“You’re okay,” it lies.

Because it has to be. He doesn’t where he is or what’s going to happen to him. And that doesn’t sound like he's okay!

“Jeremy?” a quiet voice calls.

Part of him wants to acknowledge them. A much louder part says he shouldn’t look away from the leviathan watching him like he’s a meal. Keeping eye contact might be the only thing that’s keeping the massive being from lunging forward.

The sound of something slamming startles him enough to look away, worried another leviathan was trying to sneak up behind him. There’s no sign of another one. Instead, he sees Fritz wincing as Scott stalks through a glass hallway. Realizes there’s a habitat just a few feet away.

The redhead gives a weak smile as he gestures toward the hatch. One that promises safety from hands that want to grab him and mouths that want to eat him. “Would you like to come in?”

Jeremy sends a fearful look back at the leviathan watching him with a smirk. Afraid to make a move in case that triggers an attack, but desperately wanting to go inside.

“Y-Y-Yes p-please,” is all he can do.

Fritz doesn’t realize that Jeremy’s paralyzed, waiting for him to prove he really does want to inside. And he does he really does, but he can’t move a single muscle.

He can’t tell there was movement until a hand suddenly grabs his own, making his heart thump from the small scare. He does nothing to resist the gentle tugs, though. Feels his chest get lighter and lighter the further he gets from the leviathan. Regains control over his limbs once the hatch is directly in front of him, scrambling through it as quickly as possible.

He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s felt weightless for so long, or because his terror is making him shake so badly, but his legs buckle the moment there’s solid ground below him and he falls to the floor with a yelp.

Fritz appears beside him to offer a hand. “Are you okay?”

Jeremy doesn’t accept it, giving it an untrusting glare. “N-N-No, I’m not okay.”

There’s a moment of silence. Then Fritz slowly sits down. “I’m sorry ‘David’ grabbed you.”

It takes a second to realize why he doesn’t like the apology. Not because he wants to be stubborn and not accept it, but because it came from the wrong person. Jeremy’s upset, but he’s not upset at Fritz. He’s upset with the leviathan sitting outside watching them right now. He wants them to apologize.

One look outside and he doubts it's ever going to come.

“Where a-a-are we?”

“In the safe shallows,” Fritz begins. “At the seabase I told you about.”

Jeremy is suddenly confused. He couldn’t understand the terrifying wails the leviathans were making, so he was no idea what was said other than Mike introducing himself. Whatever had been, though, what could’ve made the decision to come here? Why bring him instead of putting him back on the island?

“Why?”

The redhead opens his mouth. Pauses, looking a little confused himself. But before he can answer his eyes widen as he spots something behind Jeremy.

Whirling around with the fear something was about to smash a hole into the habitat, he instead sees Mike just on the other side of the glass waving at them with a smile. “Hey, assholes.”

Jeremy scrambles to his feet to race over. Feels the tightness in his chest loosen now that someone he trusts is close. Able to bring him back to the island and make sure he’s never grabbed again.

But Mike was there.

The realization has him softly gasping. Because Mike was there. He saw Jeremy get grabbed and yet didn’t once try to get him back. Didn’t even once argue that it’s not okay to kidnap people!

With that information, he crosses his arms before turning his back to the giant. Stubbornly shoves away his relief in order to send a glare over his shoulder.

Mike’s eyebrows raise. “What happened?”

“Y-Y-You let someone grab me.”

“I was a little distracted,” the leviathan admits quietly, ruffling his black hair as he looks away sheepishly. “I thought you’d want to stay with the others.”

Jeremy doesn’t admit out loud how much Fritz scares him whenever he makes those chilling sounds. And Scott hasn’t spoken to him once after they were grabbed. “I thought I was going to get eaten!”

“They wouldn’t have done that.”

“How would I-I have known!”

Mike hums thoughtfully. “Valid point. I’m sorry I let someone grab you.”

Jeremy narrows his eyes. Knows the apology is a genuine one, and the last thing he wants is to lose a friend. But more than just a single ‘sorry’ will have to be done. “You’re semi-forgiven.”

“What did Mike do that’s only half forgivable?”

The unfamiliar rumbling voice pulls his attention toward the open water. All his anger disappears at the sight of something massive gliding through the water like a shark coming toward them.

Before he can warn Mike something’s coming right for them, Scott storms out of the room to his left at the same time there’s movement above them. Curls into himself with a shiver both at the look of murder on the man’s face, and the massive leviathan that originally grabbed him casting a large shadow as they swim over the habitat.

“’We can talk about that later.’”

“I have a feeling you haven’t been fully transparent with us.”

It takes a moment to realize the man and leviathan are glaring at the one that just appeared. And Jeremy feels like he’s been left behind somewhere.

“’Right now you need to tell us everything. No more secrets.’”

“Can you explain why a leviathan has a common name and looks human?”

Between the low, slow sounds being spoken by the giant with mandibles, and the way Scott is spitting out his words like they’re venom, it makes Jeremy’s head feel like it’s about to burst. That’s not even taking into account of what he can understand. Why would Mike’s name make the man upset? Why is only one leviathan refusing to speak in common?

“You don’t want to do proper introductions first?”

“No.”

The combined snap leaves him trembling, afraid to so much as move or else become the target of the anger. The worst part is he’s not safe no matter where he goes. Scott stands a few feet away and can trap him inside a room if he doesn’t want anyone leaving. The leviathan outside can stop Mike from taking them home.

"I think,” causes him to jump, having completely forgotten about Fritz. Can only stare as the redhead becomes the center of attention and yet doesn’t seem nervous at all despite the glares. “I think we should do proper introductions. As well as a few apologies.”

“’Apologies? Why would we-?’”

“We don’t need to-”

“Yes apologies,” Fritz interrupts. Loud, but with no anger. “And we do need introductions. Everyone might know Mike but not everyone knows Jeremy.”

He squeaks when the attention then turns to him. That is, until Fritz waves his hands to earn it all back. Goes silent as he waits for a response. A silent statement he’s going to be listened to no matter what the others try to argue.

Scott breathes in deeply before sighing long and hard. “Go ahead, Fritz.”

The redhead waits until the leviathan huffs. Taking it as a sign of approval, he gives Jeremy a smile as he gestures. “This is ‘David’, and that’s ‘Vincent’.”

Those terrifying noises are name’s?

Jeremy hesitates for a moment as a thousand questions swam around his mind. He pushes them away for now. Ignores the goosebumps running up and down his arms to give a polite wave. “H-H-Hello.”

“And this is Jeremy.”

“Is Jer something only Mike’s allowed to use?” Vincent asks with a smirk full of sharp teeth, leaving Jeremy uncertain if he should give permission to ensure they won’t be used to tear him apart.

“It is,” Mike grins. “Get your own shitty nickname for him.”

“’I’m using’ Jer,” David glares. “’I thought’ Mike ‘was bad, but that? Why does it sound like mumbling?’”

“He’s complaining about common names,” Fritz softly translates. Most likely saw Jeremy’s terror at the thought of Mike getting in trouble over something like claiming over using a shortened version of his name.

“You think he’d like a softer one,” Scott grumbles. “He hated ours because they’re too harsh.”

“David can never be happy,” Fritz giggles. It cuts off when he seems to remember something, waving for the giant’s attention again. “Now apology time!”

“’For what?’”

Jeremy might not be able to understand what the sounds mean, but the tone sounds demanding and the glare makes it obvious how David feels about giving apologies.

“For ‘grabbing’ Scott and Jeremy,” Fritz says. Fails to give them the common translation for the word used, leaving the two mentioned sharing a look to ask if the other knows. Scott shrugs, focuses back on the redhead not backing down from the scathing glare. Jeremy, however, can’t help backing a few steps away.

“’We have other things to worry about’-”

“You ‘grabbed’ them without permission! Scott didn’t want to be ‘held’, and Jeremy wasn’t told ‘where you were taking him’! They deserve an apology!”

Jeremy realizes a few things as the argument continues. One, Fritz is fighting for their sake over being grabbed. Two, even though he’s fighting a leviathan, he seems to be winning. Three, he’s not worried about what could happen to him once he leaves the safety of the habitat.

Four, even though Jeremy can’t help flinching whenever Fritz makes a low wailing sound, it’s hard not to be impressed at two different languages being spoken. It’s hard not to admire the courage of telling someone so massive they need to apologize. And it’s hard to stop himself from relaxing, if only a little.

He still doesn’t trust everyone! But he trusts Fritz to make sure he isn’t eaten. And get an apology he hadn’t realized just how much he really needed.

David’s silent for a few moments before crossing his arms. “...’I’m sorry for grabbing them.’”

Fritz looks between them expectingly. Gives the leviathan a scowl after they only watched him in a silent plea for a translation. “In common.”

“I’m sorry,” David growls, sounding more angry than apologetic. But it’s there, making the very floor vibrate. Far from an earnest one but it’s all he needed to solidify he’s not just a snack being saved for later, because you don’t say sorry to something you’re going to eat.

“For grabbing you,” the redhead softly adds.

Jeremy stares in awe. Scott gives his own glare but doesn’t say anything.

The leviathan turns to Fritz. “’Happy now?’”

“Very. Now it’s Vincent’s turn!”

“Hey, I didn’t grab either of them,” the winged leviathan begins as he holds his hands out, as if to prove he isn’t holding anyone. “And David claimed everyone, so I wasn’t obligated to save anyone.”

“He what?”

“I was thinking,” Fritz cuts in with a pleading look before Jeremy can also ask what that’s supposed to mean. “Maybe one for David. And, an explanation if you didn’t mind.”

Vincent goes completely silent. Almost seems like he’s looking straight through them instead of directly at them.

Then he slowly swims closer, and the dark purple glow Jeremy thought was a trick of the light becomes clear that it’s part of the leviathan. Now he’s starting to realize why Mike confused Scott so much. Compared to these two, he barely seems like he’s a leviathan at all.

A small scream escapes as Vincent suddenly folds his arms and puts them on top of the habitat, angling himself so he can look almost directly down at them. There’s no hint of a smirk at all three humans stumbling as everything shakes though, the massive head tilted away.

“Will you be able to keep up with human, David?”

“’Mostly.’”

“I’ll try and keep it simple.” Vincent then softly huffs. “So, let’s get a few things straight. I’m not supposed to be purple. Mike’s not a leviathan. Humans were here before, and it wasn’t pretty.”

Jeremy feels what little confidence and safety he felt slip through his fingers like water.

"It started because of a disease."

#G/t July 2024 #Day 25 | Doubt #FNAF bois #g/t #giant #tiny #BTE writing #Subnautica AU #cw #content warning

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allhailthewicked · 4 years ago

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Random JATP Headcannons: Bobby and His Passion For Knitting

Bobby is what I called #STRESSED ALL THE FREAKING TIME™

I mean like all the boys are stressed for different reasons (you know with the band, or familial problems, or you know anxiety just being a bitch)

But unlike the other boys he doesn’t have that many great coping mechanisms

He hates how terrified Alex and Reggie look when he beats the shit out of one of their harassers. And he hates how he can’t play guitar after because of his busted hand

He doesn’t have any drums to wail on like Alex, and he absolutely sucks at writing music (that’s why none of his newer music isn’t any good) so he can’t bury himself in songwriting like Luke

He tried smoking but boy oh boy does his asthma flare up for smoking and once Alex found out he worriedly started to carry an extra inhaler for Bobby

Mediating SUCKS it’s too quiet. it’s too still. he hates how he is just trapped with his thoughts

So with nothing left to him to do Mr. Bobbers turned to his lola (grandmother) for advice

She was a tiny old woman with a black and silverish bob she quickly patted on the floor next to the armchair that she was sitting in furiously knitting something that looked like it was supposed to be a sweater.

Bobby sighed plopping down next to her enchanted by the furious rhythm she had

“Goddammit apo pass me my switch-blade I need to cut the extra... the extra... the extra nakakayamot string”

“Whatever you say lola, but I still need your advice I am just so fucking stressed all the time and I don’t know what do.”

Bobby’s grandmother grabs the switchblade and quickly slices through the extra string before placing the blade back into his hand.

“Well Robert why don’t you calm down for a second. C’mon grab that ball of yarn and knit with me. I won’t teach you but just watch what I’m doing.”

“What you mean you won’t teach and how the fuck will a pile of string calm me down”

“Curse at me one more time, and I’ll show you another way this string can calm me down. Just watch and learn from me apo and keep my blade you’ll need it when you make a mistake”

“Okay Lola I’m sorry for that, I’ll shut up, but I can’t take your blade”

“Apo stop apologizing you have done nothing wrong, if anything you remind me of your father. Plus I have a spare blade in the flower pot now get your lazy ass off the ground and go and grab it for me”

And Bobby learned and learned and fell head over heels in love with knitting

After that day Bobby left his grandmother’s house with a shiny red and black switchblade, 4 brightly colored balls of yarns, and two sets of knitting needles one bamboo and one metal

AND THE STRESS KNITTING BEGINS

One time the Alex and Luke were fighting and over what to do with Reggie when he walked into practice with a black eye. And Bobby pulled out a scarf he was working on for Reggie and started muttering: knit knit purl knit purl knit purl knit purl knit purl knit knit knit he was working on it, completing it in 45 minutes.

Fun Fact: is favorite type of stitch and pattern is the Chevron Seed Stitch

When Luke ran away from home a week before his birthday and crashed at Bobby’s place and on his birthday he woke up to a present next to his mattress and inside the box was a slightly janked up knitted beanie that Bobby made for him, and it was obviously made with love

Luke cried a lot that day, but he definitely sobbed the hardest at Bobby’s gift

When Bobby was teaching Alex how to drive the van he to keep knitting needles in his glove compartment

Reggie and Bobby had found a dog during one of their hikes, and they took care of it together for like a week until the owner reached out to them to get their dog back and Reggie was devastated! Until... Bobby made knitted a little stuffie of the dog

Before every show Bobby would bust out his knitting and go through a couple rows

For Christmas Bobby made the boy special ugly holiday sweaters (two Christmas sweaters and one Hanukkah sweater for Reggie)

Reggie’s sweater was a rich maroon and yellow with a menorah,dredial,horses, and pizza

Luke’s sweater was a royal blue with music notes and mini beanies on ornaments

Alex’s was a pastel pink with drumsticks an inhaler with a Christmas tree on it

IT TOOK SO FREAKING LONG FOR HIM TO FINISH LIKE LITERAL MONTHS

At any given moment you could count on Bobby carrying his knitting needles in his back pocket

One time he saw Alex sleeping in the garage and made it his mission to make him the fluffiest and comfiest blanket

But then the boys died and Bobby stopped knitting. Even holding his needles reminded him of them. It would remind him of the guys, and it would stress Bobby out and give him panic attacks

UNTIL Carrie was born, and he knitted her a three-piece set of baby booties, baby romper, and little hat in hot pink string (Even at 32 weeks old Carrie was serving the looks)

He even made matching sweaters for Carrie, Julie, and Flynn when they were like 8

When Rose started to go through chemo Bobby started to knit her so many hats and blankets (but not the one he started for Alex)

Bobby did eventually finish that blanket, and he gave it to Carrie the day she left for college

@sunset-bobby I hope you enjoy this I realized how little I wrote about Bobby and I just wanted to thank you for your encouragement. I also hope that you enjoy my characterization of this amazing character.

@theobligatedklutz Here’s one of the headcannons I said I would write then like didn’t lmao. I have more coming but sometimes my brain just doesn’t want to write anymore.

Also, to anyone who is reading this if I get anything wrong about knitting or Tagalog please tell me. I have very little experience with both of these things and I would love to learn more about both topics :)

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lilliagradiewrites · 4 years ago

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evermore (jj maybank)

Summary: Y/N is in a depressive state, but refuses to tell her boyfriend. After she walks out on a party, JJ realizes that something is off, and rushes to comfort her.

*based off of the song “evermore” from Taylor Swift’s new album!!

WC: 2.2k

WARNINGS: Mentions of depression/ symptoms of depression, mentions of anxiety & panic attacks, mentions of suicide/ death. (The reader is at a very low point during this. Please proceed with caution of mentions of depression triggers you.)

A/N: Hey my lovelies! I have a new piece for you. This is a one- shot, and is on the shorter side. If you don’t know, Taylor Swift released a new album on the 11th. I have been so obsessed with it, and one of my favorites from the record is the title track “evermore.” I knew i had to write something based off of that song! This is inspired by that song, and I encourage you to listen to it while you read.

Much love to you all, and happy holidays! I hope you enjoy!!

LET’S DO IT!

~~~~~~

The night was cold as you walked quietly down the street, the old cardigan your best friend gave you wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You weren’t dressed for the mid-october weather, your shorts and tank tops providing little warmth on your shivering body. As much as you hated the cold, it felt good to feel something again.

November was approaching quickly, and as you walked down the street that cold october night, you realized that you hadn’t had a true spark of happiness since that July. Of course, there were moments of joy, but it was never consistent, and lasted a day at the most.

You couldn’t seem to pinpoint the exact moment where everything went wrong, no matter how many times you’d tried. Countless times, you’d retraced your footsteps to find the moment your despair began. Unfortunately, this only resulted in distant memories from better times becoming fresh in your mind, pushing you deeper into the dark hole you were trapped in.

For a while, no one noticed a difference. Your group of friends, whom you adored, didn’t bat an eye when you left a party early because you were ‘tired’ or ‘not in the mood’, despite the fact that you loved parties. It hurt a little that they didn’t see a problem, and that only made the problem worse.

The first person to notice was JJ, your loving boyfriend. The blonde boy was the light of your life, but as your own issues began to overtake you, you found yourself pushing him away unintentionally. He would send texts, asking you to come over and see him. He'd invite you to come out to dinner with the pogues at The Wreck. He’d beg for your permission to show up at your house because he missed you so damn much.

Time after time, you replied with perfectly crafted excuses that left him concerned, but with no questions. That’s all you needed to accomplish, really. If he didn’t ask any questions, then you’d be fine.

The routine was working out pretty well for you in the beginning. JJ and the rest of the group would accept your excuses and go along with what you told them, even if they found it slightly suspicious.

But, after a while, your constant absence finally hit them. It was concerning, especially when it came to someone like you. Your parents weren’t strict, so it wasn’t an obedience thing. You loved parties, and were quite social, so it wasn’t a social anxiety thing. They wondered at their hangouts what could be wrong, but none of them could come up with a viable explanation.

Texts from your friends were lighting up your phone at a constant rate, but you trained yourself to ignore them. Your mind had convinced you that all of them hated you, and were only messaging you as a joke, or because they felt bad.

Though your brain tried to tell itself that JJ didn’t love you either, you were fighting hard against that idea. Even the slightest notion of your boyfriend no longer being interested in you broke you down into tears, so you tried to allow the thought to cross your mind as little as possible.

He texted you every day, asking if you were okay and trying to make plans. He texted you good morning, and goodnight, as well as a few other times throughout the day. He was a wonderful boyfriend, and you appreciated him, but you didn’t have the energy to show him the attention he deserved. You texted back for a while, but eventually gave up, leaving him on read almost every single time.

For the last few weeks, JJ had been broken up with worry. He worried that you were mad at him, that you hated him. He worried that you were leaving him. So, he showed up at your house.

As soon as he walked in your room, he could tell that something was incredibly off. You were normally a somewhat neat person, but your room was in complete disarray. Clothes littered the floor, empty plates and half-eaten bags of chips tossed absentmindedly to various locations.

And you. You looked like you hadn’t changed or bathed in weeks. Your hair was messy, and your face looked as if you’d been crying for years.

When you saw his face, your mask slipped on without a second thought.

“JJ! Hi, babes!”

“Hi, angel.” He replied, concern evident in his voice as he spoke. “I haven’t really seen you in forever. Are you okay?”

You nodded immediately, concealing your true feelings. “I’m okay. I’ve been taking up extra shifts at work because I need money for college soon. I’m trying to save up early. I’ve been so busy and exhausted, I just haven’t had the time or energy to see anybody.”

Lie. You got fired from your job a month ago because you called out ‘sick’ too many times.

JJ was still suspicious, but went accepted your story just as he had many times before.

“Alright, babe. I just miss you a lot. Take a break soon. Are you working tonight?”

“No.” You couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him again.

“Well, then, you’re coming to hang out.”

You shook your head quickly, pulling your hands away from his. “No thanks, JJ. I had a late shift last night and I’m exhausted. Plus, I have an early shift tomorrow morning, and I refuse to go in hungover.”

JJ took your hands back into his, meeting your eyes. “You don’t have to stay late, and you don’t have to drink. Just come for a little bit. Like, literally for an hour. We all just miss you so much.”

When he was looking into your eyes like that, you couldn’t help but say yes. Though you knew you’d come to regret it, the smile on his face after you agreed made it all seem worth it at the time.

“Yes! Okay, my love, I have to go deliver some stuff for Pope’s dad. The party starts at ten, so I’ll pick you up at nine-thirty.”

You didn’t say anything, simply nodding to indicate that you’d heard him and understood what he said.

“Bye, baby. I’ll see you tonight. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” It was barely a whisper, but it seemed to be enough for JJ. He gave you one final wave before exiting your bedroom and closing the door in his wake.

When he had gone, your anxiety began to cover you. You had come to hate gatherings and parties, despite the fact that they used to be your main source of happiness and excitement. How were you going to make it through this party?

Sighing, you turned to your bedside table, moving around empty cups to peer at the time on your alarm clock. It was hard to read due to the tears in your eyes blurring your vision slightly. After a moment, you were able to decipher the numbers on the screen. 8:06 PM. You had approximately an hour and half to get ready before your boyfriend would be there to pick you up.

The first half hour, you decided, would be used for praying you were able to make it through this night.

---

About 70 minutes after your boyfriend’s visit, the clock on your bedside table read 9:12 PM. You sat at your vanity, brushing on small amounts of makeup. You didn’t want anything too crazy like you used to do; it just didn’t feel right anymore.

The same thing applied to your outfit. After almost an hour of trying things on, you went for something simple. A sage green tank top, your favorite blue jean shorts, and a basic oversized white cardigan kie had given you. The outfit was basic, but cute nonetheless. You completed the look with your pair of slip-on vans that were so beat up they could barely be classified as white anymore.

Your hair, which you normally would curl or style for parties, had been brushed through and left down. That was all you had the energy for. The party hadn’t even started yet, and you were already exhausted.

At least you had showered. It had been over a week since you last bathed, and this party gave you incentive to take care of yourself. That’s the only thing you were grateful for when it came to this party.

As you finished getting ready, you promised yourself that you would try your best to enjoy the night.

JJ had come to pick you up as he told you he would, at nine-thirty on the dot. He was always careful to be very punctual when it comes to you. He said you looked pretty when you got in his car, and the small compliment warmed your heart significantly.

The party was smaller than your normal ones. The pogues were all there, and they were all happy to finally see you again. You greeted them kindly and took your seat beside JJ, wanting to make the night go by as quickly as possible. You had hardly even arrived and you were already anxious.

As the night went by, your anxiety only got worse. You began to zone out, not paying attention to the conversation. You snapped back to reality when the whole group laughed at some joke someone told, and you just chuckled nervously along, hoping nobody noticed you weren’t being attentive.

A few hours went by, slowly but surely, and you decided that you had to be done for the night. You had been on the brink of a panic attack for the last hour, and it was getting harder to fight it off.

“Alright, guys, I’m tired. I’m probably gonna head home. I’ll see y’all later.” You announced, standing up from your seat. Immediately, JJ stood up with you, leaning into your ear.

“I’m too drunk to drive, babe. Do you think you can wait a little longer for me to sober up?”

You shook your head lightly, pushing him away. “No, it’s ok, babes. I’m just gonna walk. I don’t want to pull you away from the party anyways.”

A look of concern took over the blonde’s face. “I don’t like that. You can’t walk by yourself at night, it’s not safe.”

“I’ll be fine, J.” You assured him. “I live, like, a five minute walk away from here. We’re super close to my house. It’ll be okay.”

JJ continued to insist that you wait, but you insisted on leaving. You reassured him multiple times that you’d be alright, kissed him, grabbed your cardigan and left.

That’s how you ended up in your current position, sobbing into your cardigan sleeve as the night grew colder and colder. You were still walking along the road to your house.

You hadn’t realized how cold it was when you left. Maybe it’s because you;d been sitting up against JJ, his body heat mixing with yours to help keep the both of you warm. Now, you were all alone, with nothing but your thin cardigan to protect you from the chill of october night.

As you walked, and cried, you wondered what it would be like to just stop breathing.

Your thoughts were halted by the sound of footsteps pounding the pavement behind you. Immediately, you tensed up, suddenly scared. Who was running on the streets late at night, besides her? Who had a reason, other than kidnapping or killing someone?

You turned slowly around, and your body relaxed as you realized you recognized the person barreling towards you.

A familiar blonde boy was running in your direction, seemingly desperate to catch up with you. You stopped walking, giving him time to meet you.

“JJ?” You were talking as soon as he was close enough to hear. “What are you doing, babe? You’re supposed to be at the party.”

“I’m walking you home. I’ll go back once I know you’re safe.” He explained. He looked almost triumphant at the fact that he’d caught up with you, but his expression changed to one of concern after he got a good look at your face.

“Y/N… have you been crying?”

You shook your head, almost in instinct, but he saw right through you.

“Yes, you have. Baby, what’s wrong? Did one of us say something? What happened?”

As you looked in his eyes, those beautiful blue orbs as rocky and deep as the ocean, you felt your mask begin to slip.

“I’m not okay, J. I haven’t been for a long time.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, and the tears came almost immediately after you’d finished.

JJ took you into his arms and held you close, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there on the side of the road.

JJ let you sob for a little while, just holding you and murmuring sweet words to you. Eventually, he pulled away and looked directly into your eyes.

“I’m here for you, okay? We’ll get through this, my love. I don’t know exactly what’s going on yet, but we’ll figure it out. Together. I promise. I love you so much, Y/N. So fucking much.”

He pulled you back into his chest, and in that moment, it dawned on you.

This wasn’t the end. This pain wouldn’t last for evermore. It would pass, and JJ would be there with you when it did.

So, for the first time in a while, you finally felt okay.

~~~~

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs are super helpful and super appreciated. LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!

Happy holidays! - Lillia

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank fanfic #outer banks fanfic #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank angst

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phantom-curve · 3 years ago

Note

For your prompts: 5. trepverter for Willex, please?

this one kind of got away from me, but hopefully it still mostly captures the essence of the prompt! and if not, it's at least a cute little fluffy Willex moment that I thoroughly enjoyed writing. set in an AU where the boys are alive, here is some flustered Alex ft. supportive Reggie and Luke.

trepverter - a witty response or comeback you think of only after it's too late to use (Rated T for swearing with a Trigger Warning for mentions of homophobic parents)

They say hindsight is 20/20 but Alex never really paid much attention to that until the day he found himself knocked flat on his back, elbows scratched and head pounding as if he had been hit by a freight train instead of an irresponsible skateboarder. It probably didn’t help that he had been in the middle of trying to calm himself down, all the signs of an impending anxiety attack mounting within his system until he had finally just put his feet to the pavement and started walking to get some of the overwhelming energy worked out of his system. He probably could have been more attentive, more aware of exactly where he was going and who was headed his direction, but he figured it would be fine on a random Wednesday morning in October when the tourists weren’t really around and most kids his age were in school.

Alex wasn’t in school because his parents had withdrawn tuition payments after he had finally worked up the courage to tell them he wouldn’t be bringing a nice girl home because he didn’t want to date any girls, in fact he would much prefer to date some boys, but the pressure of keeping his identity a secret hadn’t made that possible either so he was done hiding and he hoped they could accept that. Turns out they couldn’t accept that, or him, once he made it obvious he wasn’t going to go back in the closet or give any girl the chance to “change his mind”. As if that was even possible.

It hadn’t been a big blowout, more of a silent retreat, his parents completely withdrawing any and all support from his life over the course of the last few months. And apparently that included tuition, as Alex had discovered that morning when the school called to inform him they had finished completing his withdrawal forms, and they would be sad to see him go. Which had led him to the boardwalk, and then directly into the path of whatever hooligan that had crashed into him. Maybe if he had just been able to keep his mouth shut for 3 more years he wouldn’t be lying here, breathless and bruised, and still on the cusp of absolutely losing it.

Hindsight, Alex thought to himself as he stared up at the clear blue LA sky, can absolutely kiss my ass.

“Awh, man!” A voice above him whined. “You dinged my board!”

Alex toppled off of the anxiety ledge and straight into an ocean of lost control.

“Dinged your board? Dinged your board!? Dude, you ran me over!”

He punctuated his statement by leaping to his feet, which would have probably been a lot more threatening if he didn’t immediately stagger, hand held to his head as the world spun and his stomach rolled.

“Oh shit.”

The voice cursed quietly, and then Alex felt warm hands against his biceps, steadying him until everything slowly came back into focus. There was a boy standing in front of him, black cracked helmet perched on his head, soft brown eyes staring at him with a tinge of concern and remorse. When it was clear Alex was steady once more, he released his grip and offered an easy-going smile.

“You’re right, man, I totally pancaked you. My bad, are you okay?”

There was a weird feeling in Alex’s gut. Not the kind of sickening wave of nausea he had experienced when he first stood, but more of a fluttery feeling. His brain had quieted somewhat, and he forced himself to take a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just look where you’re going next time.”

His voice came out soft and almost breathy, not at all the warning tone he had meant to use, and Alex could feel his cheeks warming slightly in embarrassment. The other boy’s smile grew. He reached up and unclipped his helmet, lifting it off and then tossing his head back as a cascade of long brown hair tumbled out. A few stray pieces fell to rest alongside his face and Alex felt his mouth fall open slightly. His stomach swooped and then dropped completely, like he had just plummeted from a rollercoaster and his mind went blissfully blank. Everything narrowed down to the absolutely beautiful boy standing in front of him, face awash in golden morning light, cheeks flushed from his exertions, dimples and white teeth on full display as he grinned yet again. Alex wasn’t sure he had ever met someone so blindingly attractive in his entire life, and then the boy winked, winked!, and lifted a hand out towards him.

“I’m Willie.”

It was the best name Alex had ever heard of. When their palms met, a spark shot up his arm and straight to his heart.

“Alex.”

Thank God he remembered how to talk, because he truly hadn’t known what to expect when he opened his mouth. Willie released his grip and Alex left his hand suspended for just a second before he pulled it back and shoved it into the pocket of his jean jacket.

“Nice to meet you, Alex. Listen, I really am sorry about knocking you over. Any chance I can make it up to you?”

It took Alex an uncomfortably long amount of time to process what Willie was asking. Long enough for him to panic and wonder if it was like a date or if it was like a pity thing or oh God what if Willie wasn’t even into guys and Alex was about to make this whole thing super weird and –

A chirping sound came from Willie’s pocket. His eyes flitted away from Alex’s to pull a phone out and check the screen. Alex felt a strange twist in his heart as he watched Willie’s easy smile fall only to be replaced by an annoyed grimace and eyeroll as he silenced the phone. Without skipping a beat, he thrust it back into his pocket and pulled out a sharpie instead. Alex barely had time to register how much he liked the way Willie’s hand felt on his forearm before the other boy was suddenly bent over it and there was a cool sensation sending goosebumps up his arm as the tip of the marker scratched across his skin. When Willie pulled back, that brilliant smile was back in place and his eyebrows were dancing so merrily Alex wanted nothing more than to watch them forever.

“I gotta go, but that’s my number. Text me sometime.”

And then, before Alex could work up the nerve to say anything, Willie was tossing his skateboard to the ground only to chase after it with a few bouncy steps before jumping onto the deck and quickly making his way down the boardwalk, away from Alex. He watched for longer than it was probably acceptable until Willie was nothing more than a speck in the distance. Only then did he look down to see the numbers sketched onto his forearm in orange ink.

(213) 555-3276 Willie<3

It was the heart that did him in. That heart had to mean something, right? It was intentional. Willie had written his name with a heart. Alex wasn’t making that up, it was inked onto his own arm! He studied it as he sat on the beach, mind silently replaying every single second of his short interaction with Willie over and over again while different groups of people came and went around him. There had to be a reason for the heart. Alex fiddled with the braided rainbow bracelet on his wrist, the motion familiar and soothing. Had Willie noticed it when he grabbed Alex’s arm to write his number on? Was the heart some kind of sign?

Alex let out a groan and fell back against the sand, the texture scratchy against the back of his head where a slight throbbing still persisted. Another silent reminder of his morning encounter. He wished he had thought to say something when Willie had asked him about making it up to him. Wished he hadn’t panicked or let his stupid brain go into overdrive worrying about what might happen for so long that nothing ended up happening. If he could go back, he would have told Willie, yeah, he could make it up to him. Maybe take him out to coffee or dinner and a movie or ya know, just any kind of date in general? But Alex wasn’t that smooth, and he wasn’t quite that confident yet. And now all he had was a number in orange ink and a name with a heart and absolutely no answers to the millions of questions crowding his brain.

He let out a deep sigh and sat up again, before finally climbing to his feet. It wouldn’t do to sit and worry, even if that was kind of his specialty. Luke had a girlfriend now. And Julie was incredible, and Luke was a disaster, so obviously the guy had to have some kind of game. Alex couldn’t quite believe it, but maybe he could give him an idea of what to do in this situation. Alex turned his feet towards the apartment the boys had been sharing since Luke turned 18 and left his parents’ house for good and started the long walk back to their shared home.

Luckily, both Luke and Reggie were home, which meant Alex had two sounding boards for his word vomit as he paced in front of where they were sat on the couch. Reggie was kind of like a puppy in the sense that all he had to do was exist and people flocked to him, so he also had more experience than Alex did when it came to figuring out someone’s true intentions after a first meeting. By the time he had finished giving the boys the run down, he was feeling like they might be able to put their collective braincell to use and figure out exactly what the best course of action would be here.

“Yeah, man, I got nothing.”

Alex groaned and Luke held up his hands defensively.

“Look, dude, just cause I’m dating Julie doesn’t mean I know how I pulled it off! I’m just hoping my luck holds out until I can convince her to marry me, okay?”

Reggie was nodding thoughtfully, so Alex held out hope that maybe he would have some words of wisdom.

“I mean, he sounds like he wanted to at least like...talk to you some more, right? Otherwise, he wouldn’t have given you his number. And the heart is promising!”

Alex let it soak in for a second. An idea struck him out of nowhere.

“What if I just text him and tell him he can make it up to me by going on a date?”

“Bold moves, dude. I like it”

Of course, Luke liked it. It was a very Luke-inspired move. But Alex didn’t quite have the same guts as Luke. He didn’t think he could really pull it off.

“Ugh, no. My anxiety would skyrocket the second I sent the text. I just wanna know what the heart means!”

“Why don’t you ask him that then?”

Alex didn’t like how Reggie was the voice of reason here. That was supposed to be his job.

“Because if I ask him that he’ll know I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“You have been thinking about it all day.”

Alex finally reached his physical limit and stopped his pacing to fling his body onto the couch between Luke and Reggie, both boys catching different limbs and silently shifting to accompany his sudden presence.

“I don’t want him to know I’ve been thinking about it all day! That’s pathetic. Ugh, why didn’t I just say something in the moment!”

Reggie’s fingers were gentle against Alex’s scalp as he carded a hand through his hair reassuringly.

“It’s okay, Lex. You’ll think of something to say when the time is right. Release your worries to the wind and all that other junk, ya know? Just breathe.”

So, Alex breathed and tried to surrender his obsession into the ether. Reggie had been on a bit of a self-help kick lately, but honestly, it did help Alex more often than not, so he resolved to try and follow his best friend’s advice, even as his anxiety raged against the idea.

Turns out, the right time was exactly 11:43 pm when Alex suddenly awoke from a dead sleep where his dreams had been invaded by none other than Willie himself. He looked down at the number, the hastily scribbled name, and the accompanying heart bright against his pale skin even in the darkness of night and typed the message into his phone before he could think twice about it.

To: Willie<3 Considering you pancaked me, I think it’s only fair you make it up to me with a pancake breakfast. 9 am at Sandy’s Diner?

The responding message was almost instantaneous.

You’ve got yourself a date. Catch ya in the morning, pancake ;)

And for the second time that day, Willie wiped Alex’s mind completely blank, the word date playing on repeat until he fell asleep with his lips still curved into a smile, visions of a certain long-haired pretty boy dancing through his head.

#in other news this is my 1000th blog post!#feels appropriate to honor that with Alex losing his mind over Willie for 2k words straight #mads writes #willex #jatp #julie and the phantoms #alex mercer #willie jatp #willex fic

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weasleydream · 4 years ago

Text

His new weapon

Hey guys! Hope you’re okay! Here is the Charlie imagine I had mentioned before! I feel like maybe I should do a part 2 but I don’t have any idea... Let me know what you guys think!

As usual, feel free to give your opinion, and enjoy!

Masterlist

“Molly, can I help you with that?”

The atmosphere in the living-room was unbearable. A dozen of persons was here but a heavy silence had taken place. Seeing Molly almost dropping the plate she was holding, I quickly untangled myself from Charlie’s arms and followed her in the kitchen. Molly’s skin was pale as ever. Tonight, six members of her family would put their lives in danger to bring Harry Potter to the Burrow.

“Don’t you want to stay with Charlie?” Her voice was as shaky as I had imagined it.

“I can’t stand it… The silence. I would prefer hearing Fred and George’s jokes.”

“I know, dear…”

Molly hurriedly turned her back to me and made an unnecessary noise with her pan. Understanding she was trying to hide her tears, I slowly made my way toward her and gently grabbed her hands.

“It’s going to be okay.” I whispered. She bravely nodded, sighed, and patted my cheek.

I knew Molly for as long as I knew Charlie, and I had met him on my very first time in the Hogwarts Express. My parents happened to know Arthur from the Ministry, and they had recognized Molly on the platform. I was annoyed by their discussion and had seen this boy, clenching nervously the end of his sleeve and throwing envious looks at another boy with ginger hair. When I had joked with him about our parents, I hadn’t realized how important this boy would become in my life, but Charlie had been since this day the person who I was the closest to. My parents had warned me they would be abroad for Christmas, but in Charlie’s mind, it was absolutely impossible to let me alone during his favourite festivity. I remembered him almost dragging me in the train and holding firmly my hand on the platform to make sure I wouldn’t run away. Not that I didn’t want to spend the holidays with my best friend, I was just afraid to intrude a family reunion. I couldn’t have been more wrong because Molly had been like a second mother since this day.

That’s probably why, tonight, I felt like I had to reassure her.

Suddenly, someone knocked at the door. Arthur got up and prudently opened. The unmistakable silhouette of Mad-Eye Moody appeared, his prosthesis making a regular noise with each step. He was followed by Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mundungus Fletcher and Hagrid, who struggled to pass the door. Everyone was gathered and the plan would soon begin. Ron hurriedly grabbed the two big bags containing the clothes and accessories that would help us impersonating Harry and gave them to Mad-Eye.

No one really said it, but Molly understood it was time for her to let her family go. Ginny would be the only one not putting her life in danger tonight, but it had required a lot of arguments. Molly threw her arms around her husband’s neck while begging him to be careful. She made her way to all of her children, and much to my surprise, she hugged me firmly too.

When she let me go, another pair of arms enveloped my in a bone-crushing hug. Charlie pulled me tightly against him and I stuck my head in the crook of his neck. We didn’t say anything, only listening to the other’s breath and silently praying to come back here alive. We didn’t even kiss; it would have felt too bitter, as if it was a goodbye, as if it was the last time. None of us could do that.

Long story short, we had taken the brooms and the thestrals (it was strange because I knew they were here but I couldn’t see them) and we had joined Privet Drive. Harry wasn’t delighted with the plan Mad-Eye had explained to him but we hadn’t let him the choice. I had drunk the Polyjuice, it was Charlie’s condition. We both knew the Potters would be in less danger than the protectors, even if it was for a brief moment.

We were now ready to go. I was next to Charlie, and we both had our brooms with us. We waited anxiously for Mad-Eye signal and when it came, we looked at each other before rising in the air. We were in July, but the atmosphere was freezing up there. Charlie yelled to me to stay next to him, and I placed myself closer. I was beginning to hope no one was waiting for us when a green flash of light passed above Charlie’s head. Without thinking, I cast a stunning charm behind me, apparently hitting a Death Eater. Two other ones arrived instantaneously, both trying to hit us. I heard Charlie cursing and saw him accelerate. I followed him, still trying to get rid of our enemies. Suddenly, I heard one of them yelling I was the one. I saw Charlie tensing and I started to panic. Why would they think I was Harry? I knew it could happen but seeing a dozen of Death Eater rushing toward me was simply terrifying. I felt my owl fussing in its cage and I understood. It was very similar to Hedwig, and the others had false owls. Fuck.

Suddenly, a white lightening bolt passed above my head. I yelled to Charlie to tell him there was a storm and I just had the time to think we would die struck down before a spell hit me and everything went black.

I couldn’t see anything, but I felt myself falling. I heard the deafening noise of the wind in my ears, and above this, I heard Charlie screaming. Something grabbed firmly my wrist, and I prayed to Merlin it was my boyfriend. The man pulled me against him, somehow managing to pass one of my leg above the broom so that I was in a normal position. My head was resting against him shoulder and I could finally say it was Charlie. I heard tons of spells being cast, and I was too busy hoping we would be okay to feel the pain in my body.

It was a burning sensation present in every fiber of my body. I couldn’t move, scream or even open my eyes. I was like a prisoner who was being tortured.

Third POV

Without knowing how he had done it, Charlie had managed to keep Y/N on his broom. He was skilful enough to control it with only one hand, his other arm being firmly wrapped around her. She was unconscious, but he couldn’t do anything, the little detail of the Death Eaters behind him preventing him from helping her. After this strange white lightning bolt had hit Y/N, Charlie had dived as fast as possible and he had managed to grab her wrist. He had pulled her against him and as soon as she was secure against his chest, he had summoned her wand which was falling and had liberated all his broom’s power.

However, after a few minutes, the Death Eaters had simply given up and disappeared in the night. Charlie hadn’t slow down, though, he was terrified of what would happen to Y/N if she wasn’t healed quickly. Plus, he was worried for his family, all his brothers and his father having been in danger too. A huge sigh of relief escaped his mouth when he eventually saw the Burrow. He felt the exact moment he passed the magical barrier and landed clumsily. He had tried to keep Y/N against him but hadn’t seen a hole in the ground. He fell on his unconscious girlfriend, vainly trying to push her aside. They were immediately surrounded by several persons, the closest to Charlie being Bill.

“Charlie, what happened?” asked his brother. “Is she -”

“She’s just unconscious.” interrupted Charlie. “It was a spell I had never seen before.”

Bill helped Charlie getting up and the youngest carefully carried Y/N in the Burrow. His heart sank when he saw George sitting on one of the couches, his face tightly bandaged. However, he was laughing with Fred, so he seemed to be okay.

“Charlie you’re- Y/N! Merlin, what happened?”

Molly ran toward her son and urged him toward the other couch. Charlie delicately laid his girlfriend and kneeled next to her. Molly fussed around her, trying to find why she was unconscious.

“Charlie, you’ve got to describe us the spell.” said Bill.

Charlie felt all the eyes turning toward him.

“I haven’t heard any formula. The spell… It didn’t produce flashes of light but lightning bolts. They were white. The first one passed right above her head and she thought it was a storm, but the second hit her and she fell from her broom.”

No one said anything, trying desperately to understand what kind of spell it could be. Charlie scanned quickly the room and noticed Mad-Eye and Mundungus were missing. Ron shook his head, letting Charlie know they wouldn’t come back. He gripped Y/N’s hand tighter, slowly understanding how close to death they had been too.

“They thought she was Harry.” he whispered. He noticed Harry flinching.

“So that’s a treatment they reserved for him.” stated Remus.

“But why didn’t they attack him with it then?” asked Arthur.

Molly put an hand on her son’s shoulder and murmured in his ear they should install Y/N in a quieter place. Charlie carried her upstairs, reaching his childhood bedroom, and laid her in the bed.

“What does she have?” asked Charlie, his voice barely audible.

“I don’t know, dear. All we can do is wait for her to wake up.”

Molly hugged tightly his son and left the room. Charlie pulled a chair and sat next to the bed, decided to stay awake until he could see her bright Y/E/C eyes once more. The room was dark, the only light being the one coming from the corridor, but he could see how pale Y/N’s face was. Her forehead was covered in tiny drops of sweat and her eyes were constantly moving underneath her eyelids. Charlie tried to hold tighter her hands, he whispered in her ear, kissed her cheeks and her lips, but nothing worked. She was just here, seeming to be in the grip of a fitful sleep, a sleep that wouldn’t let her go no matter how hard Charlie tried to wake her up. Eventually, he resigned himself: she couldn’t feel him.

Little did he know how wrong he was. Y/N could feel everything; she was completely aware of his rough hands holding hers, she had felt each kiss Charlie had laid on her skin, she had felt her warm breath, and she had heard all his supplications. She just couldn’t move, or react in any way. The burning was still here, more and more painful with each second that passed, and she felt like she was dying. Her muscles had betrayed her, she couldn’t even lift the little finger to let him know she was okay. The last thing she had now was her mind, and it wasn’t a great consolation, because the only thing she could focus on was the feeling that something inside her was changing.

Your POV

I knew something was missing, and it took a few seconds for me to realize the burning sensation had disappeared. Each part of my body was sore, each of my muscles was contracted, but it was nothing compared to the torture I had endured during… How many time? I didn’t know how many time it had been since the mission. Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t heard anything in a long time. Maybe it was now the morning, maybe Charlie was asleep somewhere along with everyone in the house. Yes, probably.

I slowly opened my eyes but closed them immediately because of the bright light. The window was in front of me and, according to the light I had just seen, we were currently in the middle of the afternoon. I slightly groaned and regretted one second after: now, I felt like someone was hitting the inside of my head with a hammer. The sound of the door being slammed open didn’t really help, nor did Charlie’s voice screaming right in my ears.

“Y/N, are you awake?”

I tried to open my mouth but felt the soreness in my throat. Instead, I decided to groan once more.

“Mum! Mum she’s awake!”

I winced because of the infernal noise and tried to tell him to shut up. However, the sound that escaped my mouth didn’t sound like any known word, and Charlie delicately grabbed my hand. Fortunately for me, he didn’t say anything and only kissed my forehead. Suddenly, I realized I didn’t know how he was. I felt the urge to make sure he was unharmed. I decided to ignore the light and opened once more my eyes, my first words being:

“Screw this…Charlie, how are you?”

Talking was painful, but even if I had wanted to add something, it would have been simply impossible because Charlie crashed his lips on mine. I gladly melted into the kiss, weakly putting an hand in his soft hair. When he finally pulled away, I saw how worried he had been, and how relieved he was. I could see it in his blue eyes, now darker than usual.

Molly barged in the room at this very moment, making me remember my headache with her cheerful exclamation.

“Y/N, dear, you’re finally awake!”

“It’s only been a night…” I mumbled. In fact, I was quite embarrassed they were worrying for me like this.

“A night?” Charlie repeated in disbelief. “Love, it’s almost been a week. We thought… We thought you would never wake up.”

His voice broke and he kneeled next to me, extending an hand so that he could stroke my hair. I couldn’t process what he had just told me. A week? It had been a week? How was it possible?

“We didn’t bring you to St-Mungo’s because we were afraid something could happen to you.” said Molly. I turned my head and saw she was holding a vial with a pink potion. “I did what I could to help you, and Remus, Tonks and Kingsley have been doing researches about the spell you’ve been hit with.”

I tried to answer, but a coughing fit I thought would bring my guts up interrupted me. Molly rushed to my side and made me drink half of the pink potion. The soreness in my throat immediately disappeared, along with my headache, and Charlie helped me sitting. I rested my back against the wall behind me.

“What spell?” I asked.

“The lightning bolts.” answered Charlie. “It wasn’t a storm, it was a spell. And one of them hit you.”

Now that he told me, I remembered the lightning bolts in the dark sky.

“But we haven’t heard any formula.” I objected. “They didn’t bother to stay that silent with the other spells. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Love, you need to understand that the spell that hit you is totally unknown.” said Charlie. “We don’t have a clue of what it is.”

I stayed silent and completely confused. The silence was broken by my stomach, who decided to make everyone understand I was starving. Charlie laughed lightly - it was the sort of laugh I heard only when he had been under a great amount of stress and had just been reassured - and he grabbed firmly my hand. I got up, barely standing on my trembling legs, and I arrived downstairs alive only because my boyfriend had hold me tightly against him. He led me in the kitchen, where the twins were babbling about their shop with Tonks. I was slightly confused until Charlie murmured in my ear today was Harry’s birthday.

Aware of my arrival, the three persons present in the kitchen greeted me with big grins, but all I could do was gasping pathetically, I had to admit it, when I saw George’s missing ear.

“Yeah, we’re both survivors!” he winked at me.

Charlie hurriedly pulled a chair for me to sit. He had noticed I was slightly unsteady on my feet. My head was spinning, and I was feeling like I would throw up whatever was in my stomach - mostly soup, it was the only thing Molly had managed to make me eat. However, I didn’t say anything, not wanting to worry Charlie more than he already was. I caught a glimpse of Tonks leaving the kitchen to get Molly before hiding my head in my arms.

“Don’t worry, I just need my head to stop spinning…” I muttered to Charlie.

A few minutes later, the unpleasant sensation stopped and I looked up to see the kitchen crowded. As expected, Charlie and Molly were next to me and Tonks was next to the twins, but they had been joined by Remus, Bill, Harry and Ginny.

“Happy birthday, Harry.”

He flinched uncomfortably before thanking me and asking me how I was doing.

“Great, I’m just starving.”

Molly immediately put in front of me a plate full of chocolate cakes.

“It’s the only thing ready right now.” she apologised.

Her cakes were my absolutely favourite and I found it particularly hard not to eat everything, but I didn’t want to be sick. By the time I was finally satiated, Fred, George, Harry and Ginny were gone, and Arthur had joined us. I knew what would come.

“Do you feel something different, Y/N?” softly asked Arthur. “Do you even remember anything?”

I shivered, thinking about this awful sensation. I felt Charlie’s hand slowly stroking my back and sighed.

“In fact, yes, I feel like something is missing, but I can’t say what. I’ve this impression since… Well, I think it’s approximately since we arrived here.” A bunch of confused looks followed. “I was conscious of what surrounded me, at the beginning anyway. I felt like… like my body was burning. It was everywhere and… I remember clearly thinking that something was changing in me. It’s the last thing I remember.”

No one said anything. Slowly, they left, probably going for researches, or for the preparation of Harry’s birthday along with the wedding’s ones. Charlie and I were now alone, and he proposed me to install in the living-room. I followed him. I was feeling way better, and I could walk alone. That didn’t prevented Charlie from letting his hand resting in my back. He sat in the couch and I cuddled close to him. He surrounded my shoulders with his arms and rested his head on mine. This position was my favourite, I could stay all my life like this, against Charlie, feeling his warm breath on my hair and his strong arm on me.

“What did you feel?” His voice was a whisper and filled with worry. “Did you… Did you hear me?”

“Yes, love, I heard you and I felt you. If you knew how hard I’ve tried to wake up… I’ve put all my will but I just couldn’t, it was awful…”

Without me realizing it, tears made their way on my cheeks and eventually soaked his shirt. Charlie immediately pulled me on his lap, constantly murmuring me it was okay, it would get better, and that he loved me.

Everyone tried to figure out what kind of spell had hit me, and why I had been the only one hit. Remus reiterated his hypothesis, namely that the spell was for Harry. But they had told me what had happened with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, he had found the true Harry. Why not casting him this spell, then?

“Maybe there’s only one wizard able to cast it.” proposed Charlie. “Maybe he was on our tail, and when he understood he had made a mistake, he tried to join Harry but was too late.”

“It’s an eventuality.” replied Remus. “But why wouldn’t You-Know-Who know the spell?”

“Maybe it was a test.” suggested Tonks. “It’s obviously a new spell. Maybe they have just worked it out and they wanted to try it on someone. They thought Y/N was the true Harry and they have taken the opportunity.”

“Yes, and they weren’t sure of the effect, so they preferred using good old killing spells for the rest of us.” added Bill.

Despite all our questions and our attempts to bring them an answer, we were unable to think of something concluant. This evening, we celebrated Harry’s birthday, but there was an undeniable tension. I didn’t see it all, because I found myself exhausted quite early and Charlie had helped me going back to the room. I laid in the bed and grabbed his hand to let him know I wanted him close to me. With a chuckle, he slipped under the thin blanket and spooned me.

We found the true effect of the spell the next day. I wanted to get out of bed and help Molly: the poor woman was running everywhere and I had seen how stressed she was when she had brought us the breakfast in bed, scolding Charlie because he was still sleeping at this hour. He had groaned, muttering the sun wasn’t even risen, and I had elbowed him while assuring Molly I would help her.

“No way! No, Y/N, you’re lovely, dear, but you stay in bed. You need to rest. Charlie, you better be downstairs in twenty minutes!”

And she had left, managing to slam the door, mutter she was late and scream something to Fred and George all at once.

“Why is she so stressed? She can use magic, I don’t see where is the difficulty…” sighed Charlie while cuddling against me.

I was on the verge of telling him he had to help her when something clicked in my head.

“My wand!”

I had almost screamed, making Charlie jumped under the blanket.

“Don’t scream like that love, you scared me. Don’t worry, I’ve summoned it when you fell off your broom, it’s there.”

He extended an arm and put my wand out of the pocket of his jacket. I gladly took it and thanked him. I felt like something was strange, different, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. We ate the breakfast and I noticed the pancakes were slightly burnt, which had never happened in the history of the pancakes I had eaten here. I felt bad for not helping Molly, and, as Charlie was slipping into his trousers, I decided to go downstairs anyway.

“What do you think you’re doing?” asked Charlie when he saw me putting on a shirt and grabbing my wand.

“I’ll help Molly. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful!” I hurriedly added when I saw he was on the verge of protesting.

I grabbed the plate Molly had brought us and made my way toward the door. Suddenly, Crookshank ran between my legs, making me stumble and drop the plate, which broke as soon as it touched the floor. Charlie rushed behind me and helped me standing up while cursing the cat.

“Calm down, I thought you loved animals!” I laughed. Charlie looked for his wand to repair the plate but I was quicker. “Let me do this.” I waved my wand while murmuring “Reparo.”

Nothing happened. I frowned and said once more the formula, but there was no use, I was unable to cast the spell. Charlie kneeled beside me, looking concerned. He watched me a few seconds waving my wand in all directions and getting more and more frustrated before gently grabbing my hand.

“Calm down, love. You see it doesn’t work.”

“But why? What’s happening Charlie? Why doesn’t it work?”

“Maybe you’re still too tired.” He replied a bit too fast, and he seemed suddenly very interested in the the crack in the floor.

“Charlie, what is it?”

He stayed silent, but at least he looked at me in the eyes. I saw how worried he was, and I slowly understood what he thought before he confirmed my fear.

“What if it’s the effect of the spell? What if it deprives you from your magic?”

To say I panicked would be an understatement. In fact, I completely freaked out. And as in every situation in which I freaked out, I froze before hyperventilating and I began to scream some words not very kind. Arthur, who happened to be looking for Charlie, arrived and asked us what was happening. I started to expose him the problem in the least comprehensible way possible, pesting against the cat and blubbering because I was now nothing more than a muggle. However, he seemed to understand the essential because he turned toward Charlie.

“Do you really think it’s possible?” Asked my boyfriend. “That a single spell could just… erase her magic?”

“I don’t know.” murmured his father. “I guess blocking it is possible, it would work like a silencing charm, you know? But erasing it… I don’t know. We should ask Remus or Kingsley, maybe they will know something… I have to warn Molly. Charlie, bring her back to bed, and -”

“No!” I exclaimed. Both men turned toward me, slightly shocked as if they had forgotten I was here. I had regained my composure. “Molly doesn’t need to know for today. It can wait tomorrow. But I’ll gladly go back to bed, maybe I’ll eventually wake up from this nightmare.” I muttered.

I did so, and Charlie woke me up a few hours later. He was gently stroking my hair and murmuring sweet words in my ear and, for a few seconds, I felt so secure, so far from any bad thing in this world that I forgot what had happened earlier. But as soon as I opened my eyes and saw my wand on the nightstand, I remembered everything. My face had to decompose, because Charlie immediately hugged me.

“Mum doesn’t know, just like you wanted.” He murmured, his voice muffled by my hair. “But if you don’t feel like assisting to the wedding, I’ll come back to you as soon as the ceremony end.”

I weakly shook my head.

“No, I want to go. It’ll be okay.”

I didn’t know who I was trying to reassure. I joined Hermione and Ginny in the latter’s room, and after a few seconds of awkward silence, they asked me how I was doing. They had probably heard me screaming earlier. I told them I was okay and they seemed to relax. We slipped in our dresses, did our hair, and went downstairs where Charlie was anxiously waiting for me.

I had never assisted to a wedding before, and despite of all that was going on, it was one of my best days in months. I couldn’t help but become a bit emotional and shed a few tears. Charlie was standing next to the happy couple, being Bill’s witness, but the look he sent me when Bill and Fleur exchanged their alliances was clear enough for me smile and cry at the same time. It was a look full of love, one that said One day, it will be our wedding.

The party after the ceremony was in full swing. I had managed to forget everything by dancing to death, with Charlie, of course, but also with Arthur, Bill, Fred, George, Ron and Harry, who spent five minutes constantly apologizing. After what felt like the millionth dance in one night, I dragged myself to an empty table. I spotted Charlie in the crowd of dancers, accompanied by Fleur. I smiled softly, daydreaming about the day we would get married. I was still lost in my thoughts when it happened.

A shining lynx appeared in the middle of the dancers. Everyone froze at the moment, and despite the music that was still playing, I perfectly heard Kingsley Shacklebolt’s deep voice.

“The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming!”

Panic immediately spread in the crowd, and everyone began to run in all directions. I was shocked, and didn’t move until the first Death Eater arrived. I jumped on my feet, instinctively trying to get my wand in order to help Remus and Tonks, who were in front of me and casting shield charms. I froze when I remembered I was defenseless, and tried to spot Charlie. Finding him in the bustle was impossible, and the fact that half of the persons present were Weasley with the significant ginger hair didn’t help. I desperately yelled his name while trying to get out of here. The Death Eaters were now several, and flashes of light were seen everywhere. The guests still present were pushing me without giving a damn, only thinking about their life. The exit of this hell seemed too far for me to reach it, and my panic increased until it exploded in me when I came face to face with a Death Eater. Their silhouette indicated me it was a man, and even if his face was masked, I could see the burning glare in his eyes. I quickly turned the heels and tried to escape, but another was behind me and pushed me. I was now trapped.

“Protego!”

It was Bill’s voice and I immediately felt Charlie pulling me toward him. The two Death Eaters hadn’t seen them coming from the terrified crowd, and to be honest, I hadn’t seen them either. Charlie put firmly an arm around my shoulder and kept me against him while he made us a way through the guests. We finally escaped this hell, but we didn’t slow down and ran until the door of the Burrow was in front of us. Once in the living-room, where George, Ginny and Fleur were anxiously waiting, I allowed myself to breath. It came shakier than I thought and Charlie understood how distraught I was. He kissed me passionately before engulfing me in a bear hug, murmuring how sorry he was. We stayed like this, unaware of Charlie’s family who was coming back, until Bill’s voice echoed in the room.

“Why didn’t you defend yourself, Y/N?”

All eyes turned toward me, even Charlie and Arthur’s ones, and I felt an horrible guilt creeping inside me. If only I had told them I couldn’t use magic anymore, maybe Bill wouldn’t have had to let Fleur alone to protect me, and Charlie wouldn’t have been in danger. I felt the tears stinging my eyes, but fortunately for me, Arthur intervened.

“We have a lot to talk about, but right now, the important is to make sure everyone is okay.”

I felt Charlie tense behind me.

“Dad, where’s Ron? Where are Harry and Hermione?”

“They are gone.” answered darkly Molly. “The Death Eaters were here for Harry, they couldn’t stay.”

“Is it over?” asked Ginny.

“Yes, the Order made them flee.”

After a brief check, everyone happened to be unharmed. Shocked, but unharmed. We installed in the living-room and Ginny and Molly made some tea. I knew Arthur and Bill were looking at me, and I knew Molly was suspicious of something, because she patted my cheek longer than needed when she gave me a cup of tea. I decided to take the initiative and to speak first.

“The spell I’ve been hit with…” Everyone looked at me. “It… I can’t use magic anymore.”

Molly gasped and turned her head to Charlie, as if she wanted a confirmation.

“This morning she has tried to repair a plate she had broken, but it never worked.”

“You should have told us, Y/N.” Bill wasn’t angry, as I first thought, but worried. “You could have died tonight.”

“What would have changed?” I asked, aware that my tone was a bit harsh. He didn’t answer. “I didn’t say anything because I thought it could wait for tomorrow. I didn’t want to worry Molly more than she was and I didn’t want to ruin everything, that’s all.”

“Dear, I appreciate, but we’re talking about your health.” replied Molly. “You should have told us something was wrong.”

The rest of the night was a blur. I think everyone stayed a part of the night in the living-room, trying to figure out what had happened, how the Ministry could have fallen, how we could give me back my magic. I fell asleep at some point and the next time I opened my eyes, I was alone in Charlie’s room. Bill and Fleur had taken Percy’s old one, letting us borrow this room. But Charlie was nowhere to be seen. We would usually cuddle in his old bed, snuggled one against the other to have enough place. He was always so warm, even in the middle of the winter - I swear, this guy was a true heater. I used to tease him by saying he had stolen some dragon’s fire. However, I was freaking cold right now, even if we were in the middle of the summer. I grabbed my wand and murmured Lumos before remembering it was useless. Instead, I carefully woke up and checked Bill’s bed; empty. I didn’t know where Charlie was, nor did I know why he wasn’t with me. The rational part of my mind told me he had probably gone to the bathroom, but after some time that felt like ten minutes, my fear took over. What if he didn’t want me anymore? I was nothing more than a muggle now, I couldn’t protect myself in the war ongoing, and he probably didn’t want to risk his life for me. It was comprehensible, after all. No, it was wrong. Of course it was wrong. I trusted Charlie more than anyone else in the world, I loved him with all my heart and I knew it was the same for him.

I decided to make my way downstairs, I needed some fresh air. But as soon as I reached the last step, I heard two voices in the kitchen and I stopped to listen was what said. I immediately recognized the first voice, even if it was husky: it was Charlie’s. The second one could only be Molly’s. As it seemed, she had just arrived and had found her son here.

“Charlie, dear, why are you up? You should sleep.” Her voice was sleepy.

“It’s nothing Mum, go back to sleep.” He murmured. It was so low I had to listen more carefully.

“Is it Y/N?” I heard her steps as she got closer to Charlie. “Did something happen between the two of you?”

“No, don’t worry.” I heard something like a sob barely contained in his voice. “Mum, what if we can’t heal her?”

“Listen to me, Charlie: we will find a way to heal her, I promise.” Molly seemed confident, or maybe it was just her mother power to make sure he believed her.

“But if we can’t?” He insisted. “With the war, how could I know that she’s safe if she can’t defend herself? They will want to know if their spell has worked, what if they come back and take her? What if she dies, Mum? What if she dies because I couldn’t protect her?”

Charlie broke down and cried. Molly rushed toward him - nudging a chair while doing so - and comforted him.

“Don’t think that, honey. Do you really think we would let her alone if we couldn’t heal her? Do you really think we would let her die? She’s family, Charlie. She’s the love of your life, I know it as well as you do. We will all be here for her. Don’t think one second we could give up on her, dear.”

I was shaken, but I didn’t want them to know I had eavesdropped. I quickly went back to bed and it was my turn to broke down. I hid my face in the pillow to prevent myself from waking everyone up, but it wasn’t enough to hide my desperation from Charlie when he came back. He immediately understood why I was crying, and he didn’t say anything, except he loved me. We both cried ourselves to sleep.

The week after the wedding had been the strangest in my life. We regularly saw Remus and Tonks, who had been warned of my condition by Arthur, and with each visit, they brought back more books about forgotten spells. Everyone was looking for anything in these books, but the more implicated was Charlie. He had never told me himself anything about what he had said to Molly, but he made it clear he would do anything for me by making a point of reading every single book. I would have gladly helped them if I wasn’t always that tired. It was worse with each day that came, and after one week, I was barely able to stay awake more than three hours in a row. I could tell it was worrying everyone, and soon, I heard them saying they feared for my health, but the good point of always sleeping is that I didn’t have enough time to worry myself.

The first really worrying event happened after this first week. I was in the kitchen, eating the diner with the Weasley family, Remus and Tonks, when I felt nauseous. I didn’t want to make a scene about it and I thought I would just grit my teeth, but soon, black dots had invaded my sight and I felt my eyelids closing by themselves. I tried to murmure to Charlie I didn’t feel good when Ginny, who was in front of me, screamed something I couldn’t hear and I fell from the chair.

I woke up what felt like an instant later in Charlie’s room. My boyfriend was softly snoring on the floor next to me, but he wasn’t the only one. Someone else was in the room, and according to the snores, I could tell it was a man and he was sleeping in Bill’s bed. I suddenly felt like my throat was lined with sand. I tried to get up but an awful headache made me whine. The two boys immediately woke up, and Charlie put his hands on my shoulders. He began to murmur that it was okay, it would get better in a way that made me think he had done it plenty of times before. He was probably still half asleep and didn’t realize I wasn’t sleeping anymore.

“It would be better if you gave me some water…” I managed to say.

He froze, and so did Bill behind him, who had a vial in the hand. When they finally realized I was awake, the oldest brother ran out of the room and Charlie hugged me tightly.

“Y/N, oh Y/N, I thought… Merlin, I’ve been so terrified… You were always… Oh Y/N…”

It was like a litany, a very painful one to hear because his voice was filled with tears maybe he hadn’t allowed himself to shed. After a while, Bill came back with a carafe and a glass, followed by Molly and Arthur, both in their bathrobe. Bill handed me a glass of water and I quickly drank it, almost begging him for another, and another. When I finally felt comfortable, with a throat which wasn’t sore anymore and wrapped in Charlie’s arms, and when Molly sat on the chair in front of us while Bill and Arthur were standing behind her, they finally told me what had happened.

“What’s the last thing you remember, Y/N?” asked Arthur.

I searched my memories, and a vague image of Ginny popped in my mind.

“Yes, it was during the diner. You’ve become as white as a ghost, and you’ve fallen from your chair.” began Arthur. “At first, we’ve thought you just fell asleep, and Charlie has brought you in this room, but a few minutes later, he was crying for help. You were…” He made a pause. “You were convulsing. You had fever and you seemed to be in pain. We didn’t know what to do and the only thing we could do was waiting. It has happened again, and each time it was worse -”

“Each time?” I interrupted. “How long has it been?”

Charlie tensed behind me, and I saw his parents and his brother exchanging glances with him.

“It’s been almost ten days.” He murmured.

“Ten days? It’s been… Ten days?” I repeated in disbelief.

“We couldn’t come to a decision.” said Molly with a low voice. “We were terrified, Y/N, but we didn’t know what would happen to you if we brought you to St-Mungo’s. We can’t be sure there aren’t Death Eaters and if they see you… If they understand what made you this, we were afraid they would…”

She didn’t finish, but I didn’t need her to. I perfectly knew what was implied. I wanted to tell her not to worry, that now I was fine, but a lump in my throat prevented me from saying anything.

“Remus has found something interesting in one of his books.” said Bill. “Not about the spell, but about what’s happening to you. It said that your body is… Well, it’s made for magic, somehow, it needs magic to run in your blood to stay healthy, you understand? Now that the spell has blocked your magic, you can’t use it anymore. We think that it’s why you’re always so tired, and why you… Well, that would explain your blackout.”

“We didn’t know how to slow this down.” resumed Arthur. “Tonks came up with a potion that slow down your organism activity enough to block your health deterioration. It makes you fall asleep very deeply, but it only does last a few hours.”

“That’s why we’re always two staying with you.” said Bill. “We need someone to give you the potion while Charlie is holding you when you start shaking.”

I stayed silent a few seconds.

“It means that it will only get worse?”

They didn’t answer, but Charlie tightened his grip around me. He stuck his head in my hair, and I desperately grabbed his arms.

“I won’t let it happen, Y/N.” he suddenly said. “I swear to Merlin it won’t get worse. Now that we know what we know, we’ll do anything in our power to unblock your magic. I promise.”

Charlie seemed more than determined to keep his promise, because when I finally woke up in the middle of the following afternoon, I found him begging Bill to try something.

“Come on, you have to know a spell, anything!”

“I’m sorry Charlie, if I knew something I would have tried.” Answered Bill. “But we do all we can. It’s gonna be okay.”

I decided to show myself and went directly to hug Charlie. My boyfriend was terribly worried, and I felt guilty about putting him through this. From this day, he spent all his time the nose in old books, trying to find a trace let by any spell similar to the one I had been hit with. He ate less and less, only accepting coffee or tea, and whatever anyone said didn’t change anything. The only one he didn’t blow off immediately was me, but only because he was concerned about my well-being. I could beg him, even kneel in front of him (I had tried once, and he had only said I was being too dramatic) but he wouldn’t stop neglecting himself. I began to worry about him, and so was his family.

During the following weeks, nothing like the blackout happened. I spent most part of everyday sleeping, along with nights, of course, and after Charlie passed out from exhaustion, everyone made sure he didn’t touch a book, me include. We spent the few hours I didn’t sleep together, cuddled in the little bed and I listened to Charlie while he told me stories about dragons. They were wonderful tales, and he had a true gift when it came to telling stories. I felt like I was part of it, and I would usually fall asleep to the sound if his voice and the sensation of his hands on me.

The first of september arrived way too soon, and Molly and Arthur reluctantly brought Ginny to the Hogwarts Express. They were worried sick, but their daughter herself had told them it would be too suspicious if she didn’t go back to Hogwarts.

“We can’t let them become more suspicious with us, we have too much to lose.” She had said.

We were also worried about Ron, Harry and Hermione. The three of them had disappeared since the wedding and no one had news. However our worry didn’t last because we learnt the next day where they were.

It was the end of the afternoon. The sky was slowly colouring in red and the air became slightly colder. I was talking with Molly in the kitchen when someone barged in the house. We both froze when we heard unknown voices shouting orders. I immediately got up and rushed in the living-room to see a dozen of men invading the Burrow. Arthur wasn’t here, nor were Fred, George, Bill and Fleur (Molly had insisted for them to stay at the Burrow for now), they weren’t back from work yet. Charlie immediately arrived and placed himself in front of Molly and I.

“Who are you?” He shouted. “Why are you here?”

“We will ask you questions, and you will answer them.” Replied the man in the front. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and his wand was pointed on Charlie.

“We’ll start with the man of the house.”

Two men came from behind him and dragged him in the kitchen. I vainly tried to follow them but two others grabbed my arms and pushed me on the sofa, next to Molly. I was completely panicked, and it worsened when shouts and screams echoed from the kitchen. Molly was trembling next to me, her eyes fixed on her magical clock, where Charlie’s hand was on “Mortal Peril”. I extended an arm and put it around her shoulders.

The interrogation seemed to last hours, and when the tall man came back, we thought it was finally over. However, Charlie wasn’t with him, and instead of saying they would leave, the guy gestured those who were watching us and they dragged us both, Molly and I, in the kitchen.

Charlie was laying on the ground. His face was bloodied and his breath was jerky.

“Charlie!” cried Molly.

She threw herself next to her son and I did the same. Charlie groaned, saying he was okay, and struggled to get back on his feet. I passed on of his arms around my shoulders so that he could use me to keep his balance.

The man grabbed Molly’s wrist and pulled her violently toward him. Charlie tensed, ready to jump on the guy who threatened his mother, but I stopped him. I sent him a pleading look, and he understood what it meant: If you do that, we’re all dead, Molly first.

“Where is Harry Potter? .”

Molly stayed incredibly calm despite the situation. I knew she could easily get carried away by her emotions, but I also knew the terror she showed was perfectly controlled. But I saw it because I knew her; a stranger would just see a terribly worried mother.

“I don’t know… I haven’t seen him in weeks…” Her voice was shaky.

“I won’t repeat myself. Tell me where he is hiding. He was in the Ministry this morning, and we have good reasons to think one of your sons is with him. Tell us where they are or you’ll have to suffer the consequences.”

This time, Molly’s gasp wasn’t false. Annoyed by Molly’s lack of cooperation, the man waved his wand toward Charlie and another cut appeared on his cheek. Molly squealed, repeating she didn’t know anything, and the man began to get angry. His voice covered for a few seconds the noise coming from the living-room. However, he eventually heard like Charlie and I the characteristic noises of a fight. Arthur’s voice echoed, he was calling for us. I caught myself hoping he would save us when I saw the man pointing his wand toward Molly once more. His face was twisted by the hatred, and I knew this time his spell would be worse.

I didn’t really thought, I grabbed my wand - I still had the habit to keep it with me - and screamed Stupefy! in the same time as Charlie. I didn’t know if it was because the effect of the spell had vanished, or if my will had won the fight, but a bright red flash of light escaped my wand and hit the man in the head. He fell backward, struck down by two stupefying charms. Charlie pushed me toward his mother while telling me to stay here, and he left in the living-room to help Arthur. Molly hugged me, thanking me for saving her and also maybe because she was relieved I could now use magic, but I wasn’t really sure because everything went black.

When I woke up, I was laying on the couch and surrounded by Charlie, Molly, Arthur, Bill, Fleur, Fred and George.

“Merlin, are you done scaring me like this?” whispered Charlie before engulfing me in a hug.

I chuckled weakly.

“I can’t promise anything…” I replied. “Charlie, can you give me -”

He handed me my wand with a small smile.

“Be careful, love.”

I nodded.

“Accio chocolate cake!”

A little chocolate cake flew toward me and landed in my hands. Everyone around me laughed.

The next day, we decided it was best to leave the Burrow and hide somewhere else. Bill and Fleur went back to the Shell Cottage and the rest of the family hid at Aunt Muriel’s. We had good reasons to think Ron, Harry and Hermione were okay, and we were okay too.

But a new threat was planning above us: what if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named used his new weapon on a much larger scale, just before the final battle? How could we survive?

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x yn

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whoisbxcky · 5 years ago

Text

Holding On, And Letting Go

request: Would you wanna write a Bucky imagine where he was sent to kill the reader when he was the winter soldier and he hurt and a few years later they meet again when she’s an avenger and she’s scared of him? Please make a fluffy ending!

pairing: Bucky x Reader

word count: 2500

warnings: just so much angst. also fluff at the end as per request! mentions of panic attacks, being shot, implied ptsd, ONE bad language word

author’s note: okay first of all I AM SO SORRY it’s taken me so long to write this. I did not expect to get as many requests as have come through the past few days and it got me a lil overwhelmed so anyone who’s requested I AM WRITING IT i’m just a lil backlogged right now hehe.

More to the point, thank you so so so much anon for this amazing request, I love it so much I may even make a second part... Maybe even a third? Who knows. Anyway, hope you enjoy and stay fabulous my lovelies! ~ Toria <3

Tijuana, Mexico. July 24, 2011. 02:00.

“Fighter 1 this is Echo Sierra, where the hell is that medevac!?”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes frantically scanning your surroundings. The team of Marines sent to extract you from your undercover op looked just as unnerved as you did. The rescue chopper was supposed to be here two minutes ago. But overhead, there was only silence.

“Fighter 1, do you copy?”

The sound of an explosion behind you made cry out, and you ducked for cover as the men surrounding you burst into action. Gunfire rang out around you like a chorus of thunder, making your heart rate soar as adrenaline took over. Over the coms, you heard Sergeant Mills frantic voice.

“It’s him.”

You let out a sob of despair, the scene in the street in front of you was like something out of a nightmare. Bodies littered the floor, Marines who had come here to save you, lifeless and bloody.

Your gaze was drawn from your hiding place to the end of the ally, where a lone man materialised from the raging fire of the destroyed building. He moved swiftly, taking out the advancing Marines with sickening efficiency and precision, before his eyes locked on you.

Eyes as blue and as furious as a maelstrom, raven black hair, metal arm…

Hydra’s fist. The one they all talked about, the Winter Soldier.

He’d found you.

You needed to get out of there. Now.

You were running… So much noise… So much blood… You couldn’t get away… Couldn’t get away from him… Eyes as blue and as furious as a maelstrom, raven black hair, metal arm…

A gunshot.

Searing pain, so much blood.

Then, only darkness.

Avengers Tower. April 15, 2017. 04:56.

The rhythmic sound of your first connecting with the solid leather of the punch bag in front of you echoed out around the gym. Accompanied only by the sound of your ragged breaths, the occasional grunt of frustration escaping your now dry lips.

You had been down here for hours, last you checked it was a little past four in the morning, but you’d given up keeping track. Sleep did not come easily to you these days, and you figured you may as well make use of your insomnia by getting in some extra training.

You had been preparing to be an Avenger for weeks now, and so far, you were acing every test they had thrown at you, particularly the physicals thanks to your late-night work outs. Everything was going perfectly as you worked towards joining the Earth’s mightiest heroes.

The only problem you’d encountered so far had arrived the day you’d been sat in the conference room, waiting to meet the mission partner you’d be assigned to, nerves and excitement making you practically vibrate in your chair.

Oh, sweet blissful ignorance.

To say you were shocked when the Winter Soldier had walked through the door, would be the understatement of the millennium.

The scene that unfolded after your initial shock had subsided was… Far from your proudest moment, to say the least. It’s one thing to have a panic attack in front of a complete stranger, but in front of your new boss and the man who once tracked you all across Mexico and then put a bullet through your chest … Well, it certainly wasn’t going to make your ‘top five moments as an Avenger’ highlight reel.

It hadn’t taken long for Fury to reveal his knowledge of you and the Soldier’s past, nor had it taken him long to explain the fact that James Buchanan Barnes and the Winter Soldier, while sharing the same body, were technically not the same person. Or the fact that Barnes was now ‘cured’ and fighting the good fight. It certainly hadn’t taken long for you to say hell no and flee the room, hyperventilating and shaking head to toe, without looking back.

That had been three weeks ago, and ever since you had been studiously avoiding anywhere Barnes might be. You ate about ten blocks away from the tower, you only ventured into the gym during the early hours of the morning. Unfortunately, there was nothing you could do about being in the room next door to the guy, but at least it allowed to you keep track of when he was home and when he might be wandering the Tower corridors.

Eventually, you knew you’d either have to face him, or look for new employment. You two were mission partners after all, and after extensive conversations with Steve, Nat and the on-site therapist, you were now almost certain that what Fury had told you was true, and that Barnes was just as much a victim of the Soldier’s actions as you were.

But still, you couldn’t help the creeping sensation of dread, or the flashbacks you suffered, every time you caught sight of the man.

It was at that moment that the sound of the gym door swinging open and closed brought you out of your musings with a start, and you turned on your heel, eyes scanning the dimly lit room to identify the new arrival.

Your breath caught in your throat, your entire body practically electrified with fear and apprehension as you narrowed your eyes at the last person you wanted to appear in front of you in an empty room.

Barnes.

Just your damn luck.

As soon as his eyes raked over you, he froze, although his expression was entirely unreadable.

Your expression, on the other hand, may as well have come with sirens and a bullhorn screaming ‘danger, danger’.

With a sigh, Barnes raised his hands in a mock surrender, taking a tentative step into the room. You immediately took a step back.

“Y/N…Right?”

His voice was gravelly with exhaustion, and even from this distance you could see the black rims around his eyes. Clearly, the guy was as sleep deprived as you right now.

You nodded curtly, eyes hyper fixated on his every movement.

“I… Uh… Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d tire myself out. Would you mind? I’ll keep out of your way…”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. This really was far from the man who had murdered an entire squad of US Marines and left you with a gaping hole where a few ribs used to be.

When you offered him a tentative nod once more, he made his way towards the treadmill, and you could feel him tracking your every move from the corner of his eye. Clearly, he trusted you about as much as you did him.

The silence of the gym was practically deafening, and after a moment of mind-numbing panic, you found words leaving your lips of their own accord.

“Do you remember me?”

Barnes froze then, mid stride towards the machinery. Without so much as a glance in your direction, he spoke in a voice entirely void of emotion.

“No.”

You let out a breath you were unaware of holding, digging your nails into your palms painfully hard to keep from crying. When you spoke again, you could not keep the virulent anger from your tone.

“July 24, 2011. Tijuana. You were sent to kill me… Why?”

Barnes dropped his water bottle then, the sound of it crashing into the wooden flooring making you jump. He rounded on you, his eyes glassy and red, and you simply stared back, unable to keep the shock and apprehension from your face.

“I’ve read the file. But, like I said, I don’t remember.”

He let out an uneasy breath, moving to sit on one of the benches against the wall. You stayed put, trembling from head to toe, your mind entirely numb as you tried to process the fact he truly had no recollection of trying to kill you. Barnes continued.

“I don’t remember a damn thing. I wish I could, so I could give you answers. But I’ve got nothing for you, Y/N."

His eyes visibly darkened, clouded by years of torment, and for a while you both remained mute, both lost in your respective musings. However, eventually Barnes broke the silence with a tentative cough, and your eyes snapped up to meet his.

“Does it still hurt?”

He trailed off, gesturing towards your chest, where the scar of your last encountered lay. Snarling, a constant reminder of your pain. You nodded.

“Can I… Can I see it?”

You looked at him incredulously for a beat, and he faltered.

“It’s just… I may not ever be able to remember what I did to you, to those Marines. But, at the very least, before I apologise, I want to understand as best I can. Otherwise, it’s meaningless.”

He shrugged then, earnest gaze fixated on you, and despite yourself, almost as if in a dream, you found yourself moving towards him, eyes never leaving his as you approached.

Barnes raised himself from the bench, taking a few tentative steps in your direction. You paused briefly, contemplating the insanity of getting that close to the person who once tried, and very nearly succeeded in, killing you. But, a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach willed you on.

Give him a chance. Maybe, just maybe, you both need this.

With a short sigh, you stepped forward, coming to rest just centimetres from his chest. You swallowed hard, refusing to allow your gaze to stray away from his own for even a second, fear and apprehension causing a thin sheen of sweat across your forehead.

Barnes offered you a gentle half-smile, and you cleared your throat, tossing your hair over your shoulder to give him better access, staring stonily ahead. He searched your face for a moment more, looking for any sign of objection. When he found none, he tentatively reached out to push your tank top aside, to reveal the full extent of the injury.

You heard him take in a sharp breath, his thumb delicately tracing the lines of the scar tissue. Under his touch, you couldn’t help but note the increase in your heart rate, anxiety causing your whole body to shiver with apprehension.

He glanced at you apologetically, but you shook your head as he moved to back off. As nervous as it made you being in contact with him, you had to trust him, and he you. You were supposed teammates now, after all.

After a few more minutes of inspection, Barnes finally broke the silence once more, his voice raw with emotion.

“Y/N… I am so, so sorry…”

You exhaled deeply, gaze coming to rest on your scar. And the thumb of the man who put it there, gently caressing it, as if he could rub it away like a smudge on glass.

Except… He didn’t put it there… Technically…

You cleared you throat.

“You know for the longest time, I’ve hated you. For what you did, to me, to those Marines.”

You swallowed again, lifting your eyes to meet his own, studiously ignoring the way your body shivered from the intensity of the guilt in his look.

“And now?”

You could see the hurt, the years of torment, the sleepless nights, all of it shining through his gaze in that moment. From the mournful expectation in his tone, you could tell this was not a man familiar with being forgiven.

Could you forgive him, though?

You lost yourself in your inner turmoil for a moment. Undeniably, there was more to James Buchanan Barnes than met the eye. The man in front of you was not a heartless, killing machine. That much was obvious. But those fingers had squeezed the trigger. Those eyes had met your own coldly as you’d screamed for fallen comrades. It was quite the predicament.

After a few more seconds of debating, you settled your resolve. This was a new chapter in your life, and while you could not rectify the past any more than Barnes could, you could certainly work towards giving yourself, and maybe even him, a better future.

You sighed, meeting his gaze once more.

“I don’t hate you, Barnes. I’ll admit, being around you scares the shit out of me.”

He nodded sombrely, stepping away from you in defeat. You instinctively reached out to catch his hand in your own, holding him in place. Wide eyes met your gentle ones, and before Barnes could question you, you continued.

“But I understand now, that wasn’t you. I don’t want to be afraid anymore, and if you promise me I can trust you, Barnes, I’d like to get to know the real you.”

You offered him as sincere a half-smile as you could muster in that moment, dutifully ignoring the tear that was now rolling down your cheek.

Barnes stared at you in disbelief for a second, as if expecting the proverbial other shoe to drop. However, when your resolve did not waiver, the nodded slowly to himself, reaching out with his free, metal hand tentatively. You did not flinch as the cool metal glanced over your cheek, wiping the stray tear away with a gentleness that caught you entirely off guard.

“Bucky… You can just call me Bucky.”

Barnes’ voice- Bucky’s, voice was a barely-there whisper, so quiet you almost lost it in the silence of the gym hall. He offered you that half-smile again, only this time his eyes glittered hopefully in the dimness around you, and you found yourself captivated for a moment. Now that you weren’t on the defensive, you could truly appreciate just how beautifully the light from the hall beyond the gym door framed his profile, and you felt a slight warmth growing in your cheeks under his gaze.

The two of you spent the rest of the night in the gymnasium, talking until the sun came up. As the Tower began to come to life again under the first rays of dawn, the two of you walked side by side up to your shared floor, a planned day of training exercises and even lunch at Bucky’s favourite Italian place down the road ahead of you.

You couldn’t keep from smiling to yourself as you stood in the shower, readying yourself for the day ahead, as you considered the irony in how well you and Bucky actually got on, considering your prickly history.

This, you thought to yourself, could be the start of something interesting.

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universe-n-3276 · 4 years ago

Text

Carrying the Moon.

Summary: Something happens at the beginning of their last year at the university. Sander takes a life-changing decision.

Note: This fic follows what happened in my last social media au, it features the same characters but you can easily read it without knowing the whole story. I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Chapter 1

Sander never liked summer at all. It is always too hot, sweaty, and sticky. It also ruined his aesthetics, because his favorite clothes were more suited for the colder season. Shorts and flip flops did not exactly match his slightly edgy-artist style. And then, as if all of that wasn’t torture already, he had to store his precious Dr. Martens in the closet, together with his beloved leather jacket. Whenever it was time to leave it on the hanger and abandon it in the dark, for at least two months, his heart wept as if he were punishing his dearest friend.

However, June and July were usually bearable. He kept repeating to himself that, if the summer lasted only two months, it wouldn't be so bad. Instead, August always came by eventually, as if it was the Sunday of the year. August was just too much to deal with. Too hot, boring, and extremely long.

Not even the prospect of spending days with Robbe cheered him up anymore, because at some point they both agreed that the temperature was too hot to even try to cuddle, and all that sweat was worth only for some very specific occasions. Furthermore, their poor fan was close to his final act, becoming slower and slower every day.

That whole year had been extremely stressful for everyone.

It was their second last year of university, and all the members of the gang worked hard to catch up on the exams they had neglected, in order to graduate together, the following summer.

That had been the plan from the start, if it wasn’t for the fact that, nine months before, Charlotte got pregnant. Her boyfriend, Max, had pushed her to carry on with the pregnancy, but when she reached the seventh month, he simply disappeared. Everyone had feared for the physical and mental health of Charlotte and the baby. She cried for two weeks in a row, but then she was back on schedule, studying, and seeing her therapist.

On the 12th of August, Charlotte had given birth to a baby boy, and from that moment, everything went down quickly, because not even 24 hours later, she announced to everyone that she wanted to give her son up for adoption, but at last, her parents convinced her to take home the, still unnamed, newborn.

A month passed since that day, and nothing had changed. Her family and friends helped Charlotte to look after the child, but she refused to see and touch him in any way.

On a Wednesday morning, Sander walked into the apartment, where his mother had been living alone with Charlotte since their parents had divorced. It had been a fairly peaceful decision. They simply parted ways but decided to stay friends.

However, that day took a strange turn, when his mother greeted him with a sad look, rather than her cheerful smile, which both of the twins had inherited. She cradled Charlotte's baby in her arms, feeding him with a bottle of formula.

"I'm going to see how Charlotte is doing."

Sander said after greeting his mother with a kiss and gently stroking the baby's head. He felt a strange feeling growing in his stomach, as he headed to his sister's room.

"Charlotte’s not home. She left something on your bed though. You should read it. "

After his mother had uttered those words, all the happiness, with which he had left his home that morning, definitely disappeared. He walked briskly to his room, and on the bed, he found a letter with his name handwritten on the envelope. He quickly opened it.

His hands were shaking already.

Sander,

Your heart is probably pounding in your chest right now, so, listen to me for once in your life and sit down, close your eyes and breathe the way you should, when a panic attack is about to hit you.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out.

You didn’t listen, right? You’re reading this fourth line, but your mind is so clouded with worry, that you haven't understood half of what I wrote. So go back, re-read everything, breathe and keep in mind that I'm fine.

Done?

Good.

You may be wondering where I am, and why I wrote you a letter, but I couldn't do what I'm about to do, looking you in the eyes. I don't often show it with my gestures and even less with words, but my bond with you is the most important of my life. You're the person I care the most about, and just one negative word from you would hurt me more than a thousand insults from someone else. This is why I am writing this because I know you wouldn't agree with my decision.

I have to go away, Sander. I worked too hard to build the life I wanted to live, and you know it. I struggled to keep up with my colleagues, and I tortured myself to do better than them, and eventually, I succeeded.

I haven’t mentioned it to you, because, until last week, I hadn’t the gut to take this step, and in the last few months, my life has changed its direction so many times, that I didn't really know what to do with my dreams anymore.

I got the scholarship I applied for. The University of Sydney. Yes, Sydney in Australia. At this very moment, I am already at the airport. Don't try to stop me, please.

I assure you, it was a deliberate decision. This isn’t coming from a hormonal shift or my illness. You can ask my therapist, she knows everything, and I gave her permission to talk to you about me if you need to be reassured by her.

Over the past few years, I've seen you create a beautiful life for yourself. When we moved to Lucas' school, you had nothing, you started from scratch, and look how far you've come! You became a fantastic, loving, talented man. Whenever you walk into a room, everyone stops to look at you, because you are bright and dazzling, just like the sun. We are just mere planets, waiting for you to shine on us, even for the briefest moment. I know you will never believe it because, in that beautiful head of yours, you see yourself not as a star, not even as the moon. You see yourself as Pluto, a bigger asteroid that has been mistaken for a planet by some heedless scientist.

I have the strength to leave, only because I know that Robbe will always be next to you. You couldn't choose a better man to share your existence with. I know that, even if you’d break into a thousand pieces, he would be able to put you back together.

I can't wait to see your whole life together, your engagement, marriage, and your five children, which I will love madly. I'll be there for all of these things, it's a promise, so don't be sad.

Regarding the other matter, which I know you are thinking about, I also took care of him. Ever since Max left, I knew, I couldn't do it alone, and that he would probably be better with someone else. Unfortunately, mom and dad are no longer together and don't want to take care of him alone.

I just asked them to deal with the papers. I hope, he will be adopted soon by someone who can love him even if he carries the moon inside of him like me.

I'm not fit to be a mother. I would be a burden to him, and I know this is the right choice.

I already miss you, Sander.

Hug Robbe for me.

I love you.

Charlotte

Sander didn’t know when he had started to cry. He reread his sister's letter at least twenty times, to be able to understand it in its entirety.

Charlotte was gone.

She had taken the decision to give her baby up for adoption.

His head was spinning, he could still feel his heart running in his chest, but while he was reading that letter again for the fourteenth time, a thought had bravely made its way into his head.

Sander couldn't fall apart, he had to be strong.

His new life was about to begin.

[next]

#wtfock #wtfam #carrying the moon #drijzermans #sander driesen #robbe ijzermans #robbe x sander #rosander #sobbe #sobbe fanfic

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drarryruinedme7 · 5 years ago

Note

Hate

I’ve had this word sitting in my ask box for forever.. time to revisit it for this little ficlet I wrote! Tagging @rockmarina, @rose-grangerweasleyisbae and @ununquadius ❤️To everyone who can’t enjoy their birthday: know you’re loved and I believe in you!❤️

Drarry | 1,7K | Rating: M | Tags: EWE, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Mention of Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Abusive Dursley Family, Neville Longbottom is a Good Friend, Mention of Hermione and Ron sleeping with Harry when he’s feeling bad, Dating, Amusement Park | Beta: @malenkayacherepakha and @bblgumbby

Harry Potter Hates His Birthday

Harry Potter hated his birthday.

If it had been his choice, he’d erase the 31st of July from the calendar.

But unluckily, as much as he wished with every cell of his body for it to disappear, every year it showed up, right on time.

He would start feeling sick on the 30th, the day before. He’d wake up, take a look at the calendar and his breath would hitch, his heart beating furiously.

The first time it happened he was six years old.

Harry had thought he was gonna die. His heart was beating so fast it was painful and he was sure his time had come. But the thought hadn’t been disturbing — it almost felt freeing, a relief.

At least, he wouldn’t have had to live his birthday once again.

But after a good hour spent panicking, his stomach churning, making him nauseous and dizzy, he realised he was still alive.

So he got up and went on with his usual life, with no one taking as much as a look at him or wishing him a happy birthday.

Harry knew nothing about anxiety, panic attacks, abusive family. He only knew he felt sick to his bones, alone, and another year older.

He’d spend the day cooking, cleaning, and then closed in his cupboard playing with his toy soldiers.

He had asked once his Aunt Petunia if he could have new ones for his birthday, for his old ones were all ruined and broken by Dudley.

Petunia had looked at him with a raised eyebrow, shaking her head.

“Next time you’ll learn to treat the toys that your uncle Vernon bought you with his own money better.”

It wasn’t true. They were Dudley’s, but when he’d grown sick of them they’d given them to Harry.

Harry didn’t own anything — all he had, it had previously been Dudley’s.

That’s how growing up, he realised he had no idea what his tastes were.

Did he like shirts or t-shirts more? Red or blue? Toy soldiers or toy cars? Nothing.

So, at the age of 10, Harry decided he hated his birthday and he’d never ask his aunt and uncle for anything else.

He decided he wasn’t worth anything good in the world, it wasn’t worth celebrating his birth, he wasn’t worth pretty much anything.

He started living as a ghost, ignoring people’s disgusted faces at his over used clothes, Dudley’s taunts, his own feelings.

By now, he had figured something out. He knew there were things he liked and things he disliked, but he didn’t think anything of that. It wouldn’t bring anything good anyway.

As always, the day of his 10th birthday, Harry spent the day thinking his heart would jump out of his throat, his lungs threatening to collapse at any moment and with an inexplicable need to cry and cry and cry until he forgot his own name.

Things changed the day of his 11th birthday.

The 31st of July, 1991 had been different.

He was curled up on the floor of the crazy refuge where uncle Vernon had brought them to escape the owls, his eyes stinging.

For a second, for a second he had thought someone, anyone, had remembered his birthday and sent him something.

It had been a foolish desire, he knew it, but in the end, he couldn’t stop the tears that started rolling down his cheeks, mixing with the dust of the floor, staining Harry’s face.

A loud thump and a gigantic man entered the refuge, bellowing something about a school where Harry needed to go because he was a wizard.

Several clocks clicked in his head, now everything made sense. He wasn’t weird, sick, or a freak, he was a wizard!

And this man, Hagrid, had come to bring him to this new school where he’d learn magic — Hogwarts — away from the Dursleys.

Away from the Dursleys!

That one, that one had been a memorable birthday.

But unfortunately, as much as Harry didn’t know anything about panic attacks and abusive family, he didn’t know a thing about ptsd and effects of trauma either.

His life had improved greatly, even with Voldemort at his heels. Honestly, anything was better than the Dursleys.

He even had new friends, and two best friends, Ron and Hermione. Life couldn’t be better than this.

Still, the day of his birthday, Harry woke up again with dread in every cell of his body, tears in his eyes, heart aching.

His friends hadn’t sent him letters, but it hadn’t been a shock. No one ever remembered his birthday.

He was still happy he had them and he’d get to meet them again in September, and he couldn’t wait to go back to Hogwarts.

So why was he still feeling like the day of his birth was a cursed day?

Harry never found an answer.

Every year, on time, his birthday would arrive and pass with wetness on his face, a sour taste in his mouth and a burning worse than fire in his chest.

He’d read his friends’ letters, eat the candies they’d sent him, flip through the photo album Hagrid gifted him and still.

Still think he didn’t deserve any of that, thinking his life wasn’t worth celebrating.

—–

The 31st of July, 1998 had been the worst of all of Harry’s birthdays.

A War had just ended, too many people had died, too many things were wrong to be happy, to even try and think his life could be different now or that he was worth living now.

Everyone had sent him something to celebrate, even strangers who only wanted to thank him for winning the War, for what he had done.

But what he had done exactly? Killed a man, let others die, died himself.

He burnt all the letters, threw away all the gifts, closed himself in Grimmauld Place, blocking everyone else out.

He’d finally cried until his throat had burnt, his head was throbbing and with the absolute certainty he wasn’t ever, ever, ever going to celebrate his birthday again in his life.

Then, luckily enough, in 1999, the day of his birthday became a wizarding National Holiday.

Not only did he have to celebrate it, but he even had to endure silly social parties, with thousands of people he had never met.

So now he had gone from ‘no one remembers my birthday’ to ‘everyone celebrates my birthday because I was brave enough to kill a man’.

What a reason to be remembered for.

At least now Harry knew.

Now Harry had started seeing a therapist, Rebecca, who explained to him a lot about triggers, trauma brain, panic attacks, anxiety.

He had now acquired new tools to keep them at bay, to endure the day and arrive at the end of it without drowning in self-hate.

Except for arriving at home every time with tears in his eyes, Hermione and Ron in the bed with him, holding him, silently telling him he was worth living and he was loved.

Five years after the War, it was the 31st of July, 2003. Harry was at a coffee shop with Neville, heartily laughing at one of his thousands of stories about his beloved plants.

Sometimes after the War, Harry had realised he shared his birthday with one of his dearest friends and from that day on, they would always spend the day together.

They’d joke during those stupid silly social parties, Neville would always say he ‘had risked being The Boy Who Lived by a whisker’, but ‘got away with it pretty well’, and that he ‘was celebrated in all of the Wizarding World but with the privilege of no gossiping and prints around’.

It had started to make Harry happier and more carefree. At last, he had a reason to be happy on the 31st of July. His best bud Neville was born!

And so here they were, drinking coffee and laughing together, when none other than Draco Malfoy entered the coffee shop, glowing blond hair and slender legs in tow.

Harry’s coffee stuck in his throat, making him cough, drawing Malfoy’s attention who turned his head and raised his eyebrows to the sky when he saw Harry.

He froze, looking from Neville to Harry several times before making a step and approaching them.

“Hello.”

Fuck, that voice. Harry thought he wouldn’t have never heard it again.

“Happy Birthday to both of you.” Malfoy’s hand stretched in front of them. Neville grasped it, thanked him.

Harry looked horrified when a thought formed in his mind. The War was over, the man standing in front of him right now had surely changed during the years, and he had remembered his birthday, of course.

It wouldn’t hurt to accept his hand, so he did. He grasped Malfoy’s hand, smiling and receiving a smile back from him too.

Malfoy had smiled, for real, to Harry. And Harry had had something like 2 seconds to realise Draco Malfoy was absolutely, undeniably, utterly, handsome.

And then he recalled every time during school, Malfoy had always remembered Harry’s birthday. To taunt him, of course, but he never had taunted anyone else on their birthday, right? It had all been for Harry.

It was such a stupid thought that Harry started laughing uncontrollably, because seriously if he was happy that someone had always remembered his birthday and not because of who he was, but to mock him, there was something wrong with him.

And Malfoy had tightened his grip on Harry’s hand and had looked worried at Neville, who shook his head amazed.

“Erm, are you okay, Potter?” Malfoy’s voice sounded amused and Harry found himself nodding, and a second after saying, “Great! What do you think of having dinner with me?”

Neville’s eyes widened so much Harry feared they’d fall down that instant, as Malfoy had laughed incredulously.

“Sure, Potter.”

But Harry wasn’t kidding. At 7 pm he was in front of Malfoy’s office — he worked as Unspeakable with Hermione, a couple of calls and Harry had been able to track him down.

They went out to dinner, had fun, went to the amusement park after, did some rides, bought cotton candy and a goldfish, named it Umbridge.

They went back together to Grimmauld Place, placed Umbridge in a fishbowl, fucked all night, laughed at their stupidity, laughed at the ridiculous situation.

Harry didn’t know how, but from that day on Draco Malfoy had never walked out of his house and life, and his birthday had stopped being so horrible.

#drarry #drarry squad #drarry fanfiction #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco x harry #harry's birthday #tw: panic attacks #tw: anxiety #neville longbottom #is a good friend #mywriting

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queenmaracasandlove · 5 years ago

Text

You’re My Best (Sex) Friend - Roger Taylor x F!Reader - Part VIII

Word Count: +/- 3100

In the last part: Linda revealed to Y/N that she had asked Roger to stop talking to her as she suspected he was in love with her even though she had argued the contrary for months.

Warnings: Mention of depression

A/N: We’re coming very close to the end. I would love to know what you think about it !

PART I PART II PART III PART V PART VI PART VII

MASTERLIST

Taglists:

- Permanent: @reedusteinrambles

- YMB(S)F: @ixchel-9275 ; @the-galaxy-witch

Photo found on @debdarkpetal ‘s blog

The weeks had passed and things had been eventful for Y/N. At the same time, she had been able to find a new peace. Revelations provided by Linda had been hard to accept. First she had to deal with the fact that she had been lied to but also with the fact that her girlfriend had gone behind her back. At first she had wanted to forget, because she was overwhelmed by guilt. Y/N was still convinced that she had a part of responsibility in what had happened, that she had been unfair to Linda from the beginning. But trust had been lost and nothing could be done about that anymore.

She also had to come to terms with the fact that Roger might be in love with her. Linda confessed that, in reality, she had always suspected it and that all the doubts had turned to facts when they had met for the first time. Y/N could not be sure that what Linda was claiming was true. Even though Roger stopping any contact with her might have been a admission of it as a truth, she was too tired. Tired of it all. She had decided to put everything behind her, and that included her potential relationship with the singer. She still cared about him as a friend but she needed time for herself.

Y/N also had to deal with the fact that she was going through a bad time from a mental health perspective and she had decided to give herself time to heal and recover. She needed to be better, to be good to herself and to deal with what was going on. She had resigned from her job in the London production and thanks to having stayed at Roger’s for a bit she had been able to find a place just right for herself. She had had time for a two-week break before starting the rehearsal for the tour, a job she had eventually decided to accept and was greatly thankful for.

And so here she was, feeling more alive than she had for months. She realised how toxic the situation had been for her. She was happy to perform a lead role and she was finding a new confidence. She had new colleagues and loved tour life. Every city was different and each performance full of surprises. She contacted some old friends and made new ones. After some time she called Freddie, Brian and John again. All were happy to hear about her. Freddie was the only one who asked about Roger and for the first time in a while, Y/N was able to say his name without feeling any kind of pain. She would call him, once she would be ready, as a friend.

And by this fine morning of the end of July, she felt like she was. It was Roger’s birthday and she would always wish him a good one, although most of the time it was face to face at a birthday party. She was performing in Portsmouth on that week and had enjoyed a little walk on the beach in the morning, even went for a little swim. After taking a shower, she sat on the bed and put the telephone on her legs before dialing Roger’s number. She had thought about was she was going to tell him, how he would react. She wanted to get things straight.

To be perfectly honest, there was still one thing that was worrying her, the possibility of losing him, for good. As a dear friend more than anything else. Still, she would accept it and embrace all that life would have to offer. She wanted to come clear, apologize and in any case, forge ahead. She heard sounds on the line and was waiting to hear the raspy voice she admittedly missed.

‘Hello’

It was a feminine voice and Y/N was taken aback. It was not something she had expected.

‘Sorry, wrong number’

And she hung up. She closed her eyes for a second and smiled. It was for the best. He was happy and so was she. And it was all that mattered.

----------

The Summer tour had ended earlier than expected for Y/N, and not for a bad reason. A producer had come to see her and wanted her for the West End premiere of A Chorus Line, a new show from Broadway. This was a major opportunity and after making sure that it would not be a problem for the production that she had signed with she had moved back to London. She felt wonderful in this new show, in fact, she had never felt better. And this is why she had agreed to come to Queen’s concert that night. To be honest it was the kind of event she would not have missed for the world.

She had managed to get that evening free and was enjoying the warm breeze of indian Summer. She could not believe how many people were present in Hyde Park to attend her friends’ free concert. Freddie had given her VIP tickets months ago, when she was still with Linda and life was a lot different. At first she wanted to go with the rest of the crowd as any other fan, but Brian had convinced her to come and say hello from the side.

Although Freddie had been especially supportive, he was more about distracting yourself from what was wrong than facing them. Brian on the other side had called Y/N several times after her panic attack, wanting to make sure everything was fine. All he cared about was her being alright and he never asked questions that made her uncomfortable. When he felt that she was doing well enough, he insisted that they all see each other again at the concert.

It was the first time she was seeing them on stage since the Christmas Eve concert and she was all so excited. She loved to see them on stage and it was still hard to believe that this group of young lads had become this incredibly successful band. She watched the beginning of the show inside the crowd, as she had planned first. It was electrifying from there. And when the people around her started singing along with Freddie she could not help but cry a little. She felt incredibly happy and proud. After a few songs she came closer to the stage’s sides and after showing her pass was given access to a more private area.

‘Y/N’ a voice shouted

She turned and saw Christine waving at her. She was Brian’s fiancée and she had met her when the guitarist had brought her to see her new show. Next to her was Marie who even though was not in a romantic relationship with Freddie anymore stayed supportive. They greeted each other quickly before focusing back on the concert. Y/N discovered a few new songs and was entirely captured by the moment.

Too soon for her own taste, the show came to an end. She kept shouting, still in the euphoria of the moment. She did not hear Marie talking to her before her hand fell on her shoulder and she saw that most people had left the area.

‘Are you coming with us’ she asked ‘We’re meeting them backstage’

‘Of course’

The only thing that she wanted right now was to congratulate them for the amazing show, tell them how great they were. She was almost jumping as she followed the little group behind the enormous stage that had been built in the heart of London. As the crowd was scattering, she could still hear some of them singing and she could not help but smile. Everybody seemed to have something to do behind the massive stage and she was so mesmerised by the structure that she did not see John and Brian coming in their direction. It’s only when she sensed the little excitation around her that she looked behind her.

Y/N stayed where she was. She did not feel out of place but she knew she was not as close as she used to be. They all had their lives now. She suddenly realised how they all had changed, her included. How lucky they were, all living their dreams. They were not so much young adults now. John was a dad and Brian was getting married. It felt so surreal. Suddenly she realised that somebody was looking at her and she was taken away from her daydreams. She had seen him before but could not remember his name.

‘Who are you? Do you have permission to be here?’

She recognised an Irish accent and a tone that she did not appreciate very much.

‘I’m with the band’ she said

‘I don’t think so’ he replied, one of his eyebrow raised

‘Really?’ she sighed

She was now looking in her bag to fetch the VIP pass but much to her surprise, could not find them. She was still looking when she felt the hand of the Irish guy grabbing her arm.

‘You little groupies really have no shame’ he said

‘What the fuck’ was all Y/N could say as she was pushed away

She started to protest and asked him to remove his hand but he did not listen to her. Technicians where all over the place and she feared nobody she knew would notice what was happening. But as the conversation -if you could call it that way- became heated, the man was stopped by someone calling him. He finally let go of her and found Roger next to them.

‘May I know what you think you’re doing Prenter?’ he demanded, his jaw tensed

‘This little twat managed to get backstage’

‘How did you just call me’ Y/N screamed

She was about to slap him but before she could do so Roger uttered her name and she froze. The drummer indicated to the so-called Prenter to clear off before it was too late and looked at Y/N, surprised.

‘Thank you’ she said ‘I was about to beat the shit out of him’

‘You’re welcome, I don’t doubt that you would have’ he added, smirking

‘Who’s this piece of shit?’ you declared, too angry to watch your language

‘Paul Prenter, part of Freddie’s team unfortunately’

‘I swear I was about to rearrange his teeth before you arrived’ she insisted

‘I would have loved to see that, sincerely’ he joked ‘But then I would have had to see you go away in a police car when I haven’t got a chance to see you in so long’

Y/N smiled timidly. He did not seem angry at her and she finally relaxed. Roger too had changed over the past few months but he still had the same gaze that could unsettle you in a blink of an eye, literally. They both stay silent, it did not last long in reality but for the both of them it was an eternity.

‘So, what are you doing here?’ he asked as if the answer was not obvious

‘Just wanted to see the greatest band on the planet’

‘Might call Prenter back, you do sound like a groupie’

‘Shut up’ she laughed before adding, ‘Freddie invited me, I hope….’

And before she could finish her sentence he hugged her. It was a little cautious at first but they both gave in. It felt so natural and so good, as if their bodies never forgot how it felt and the warmth that it provided to them. It did not last long but it was enough.

‘I missed you, love’ he simply said

‘I missed you too, Rog’ she smiled

There was so much she wanted to say. So many things she wanted to apologize for, but something in Roger’s eyes prevented her from doing so. He seemed so happy to see her, to be here with her that she did not want to do anything that could change things. If this was the last nice moment they could spend together then she would make the most of it. Anyway, it was the band’s big moment and the last thing she wanted was to tarnish it with her stupid choices. However, this made it harder to know what to say.

‘I have yet to congratulate the rest of the band’ was what first came to her mind

‘Of course’ he softly smiled

They both walked back towards where the group was standing. Paul was staying a little behind them and although she was still angry, Y/N’s lip corner moved upward at the idea that maybe he felt frightened by her. Only Brian noticed that they both arrived at the same time and gently smiled at the young woman. She suddenly felt all the excitement coming back and could not stop talking about how great the show was and how in love she was with the new songs.

Unfortunately it was quite late and soon enough it was time for everybody to leave. It was the last date of their little Summer tour and soon they would be promoting their new album. Now was time to enjoy a few weeks of well deserved rest. Y/N did not want to be in the way and decided to leave quickly after they were told to do so. Once again, she congratulated the whole band and thanked them profusely for the invitation.

‘You can wait and I’ll drop you’ Roger said as she started walking away

‘Don’t be ridiculous. I know your going to take ages and I’m knackered. But thanks Roger, I appreciate it’

She truly did. But the night had been amazing and she did not wanted to play with the odds of it turning bad in the end. Roger did not protest. She looked worried, as if she was still waiting for him to be angry at her, but nothing in his behaviour seemed to be going in this direction. And so she went.

--------

Two weeks had passed since the concert and Y/N was back to her normal life. It had not been simple to come back done to the rush from that night. For a few hours everything had been so perfect and she had felt so good with her friend, but she had to go back to the usual life and she was fine with it too. The show was going strong and it was rumoured that they might be nominated for the first edition of an award that was supposed to mirror the Americain Tonys.

Obviously she was thinking about Roger from time to time. Still, she wanted to stay true to her decision and leave the ideal of a love relationship behind. Regarding their friendship, she would wait until he made the first move if he wanted to, she did not want to push him. She wondered if he would go as far as looking for her number but she was surprised when, arriving at the theatre the next Wednesday, she found a flower bouquet in her dressing room. Freddie had sent her once after he came to see her but she doubted it would be from him. She looked at the note and her hand immediately covered her mouth as she let out a little gasp.

Dear Y/N,

You were shining on that stage yesterday. You always shine.

Congratulations.

Love, Roger

P.S: Please call me here xxxxxxxxxx

He had used a neat handwriting and suddenly she was overwhelmed by the amazing scent coming from the flowers. Why did he have come without telling her? His words were so nice, the attention so nice. She pressed the little card to her heart as she smiled for an instant. She looked and the number, it was not the one from the flat. She bit her lips before considering what to do. She was early to the theatre and there was a phone downstairs. She hesitated but agreed with herself that she would her heartbeat -which rhythm had drastically increased- would not calm down until she had called.

She used the phone, wondering if he would be home and smiling to all the people that walked in the corridor. It was not the most intimate place for a phone call but she did not really have a choice.

‘Hello’ she tried ‘Is Roger Taylor here?’

‘Y/N!’ he exclaimed on the other side of the line

‘Roger. Thank you so much for the flower. You did not have to.’

‘You deserve it. You were amazing’

‘So… You wanted me to call?’ she went on, discomfited by the compliments

‘Yes!’ he said before staying silent again

‘And what for..?’ Y/N asked

‘Well… I wanted to ask you something.’

‘Rog’ spit it please. I don’t have all day’ she said, a little annoyed

‘Would you come to Brian’s wedding with me?’

It was Y/N’s turn to stay silent. This was unexpected to say the least. She knew Brian was getting married at the end of the month but she had not been invited. She understood. Brian was quite private and even though they were friends, she did not feel they were as close as for her to be invited in a intimate ceremony. Why would Roger invite her? What was this all about?

‘Y/N’ she heard him say softly

‘I haven’t been invited Roger’

‘I know. I am inviting you’

‘What do you mean?’

‘As in, my plus one’

Y/N was taken aback. Was it supposed to be… a date? She sighed. This is not exactly how she had expected things to turn out. Everything was going so well for her now. The last thing she wanted was to throw it all away by falling for Roger all over again.

‘Why me?’ she dared ask

‘I… I don’t want to go with a random girl and I don’t feel like going alone either’

So was it just going to be like before? Did he think that their relationship could start the way it was before? Hooking up when they were both single and needed affection. She was not into this anymore.

‘And I want to spend time with you. I want you to come with me. Please’

She could almost hear a whimper in the last word. She hesitated, closed her eyes for a second, tightened her grip receiver. Right now it was time to listen to her head and say goodbye to her deepest wish forever or listen to her heart and give it one last chance.

#queenmaracasandlove #You're my best (sex) friend #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor fiction #queen fiction #ben!roger x reader

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slasher-is-as-slasher-does · 5 years ago

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Following You

Frank turned from the snowy hill, covered in freezing dirt like the rest of his Legion, staring at the dark line of the forest. Something didn't feel right. After the slaughter of that grocery store janitor, he'd been on edge. He couldn't let his Legion get caught. He gestured Joey over to him, his muscular friend jogging over, leaving the girls with the rest of the burying. "What's up?"

"I'm gonna go into the woods for a minute; I thought I heard something." He turned his deep brown eyes to stare into the dark eyes of Joey, a serious and concerned look in his own irises that seemed to transfer to his friend. Frank placed his hand on Joey's shoulder, his grip betraying his paranoia. "Don't worry, dude. Keep an eye on the girls, alright? I'll be back soon. If I'm not...come find me."

Joey seemed visibly uncomfortable at the thought, but he nodded anyways, watching as Frank turned away and stumbled a bit down the hill. Joey locked eyes on his back until he vanished into the forest, counting the seconds, a heavy feeling settling on his chest. The Legion didn't usually split up, so for Frank to suddenly decide to go somewhere without them worried him.

Frank cautiously crept through the dark woods, the chill of the snow breaking through his hefty boots to freeze his feet. Despite the silence, he tuned in to every small sounds, from light rustling in the bushes to the very crunch of the ice beneath his feet. He felt watched. He felt followed, hunted, and he hated that. He suddenly felt as though he wasn't in control.

One of the sounds was suddenly different from the others, putting him on edge a little too late. Arms grabbed him and wrestled the knife from his pocket, tossing it to another person. With a grunt of pain, Frank's knees hit the ground, his arms firmly pinned behind him. He glared up at his captor's only for his blood to run cold. Standing before him was a swat team.

The one who took his knife handed it to another who seemed to be of higher rank. The commander tossed the blade to the ground. "Gag him. Time to set the trap."

Joey was pacing back and forth. It had been almost ten minutes and there was no sign of Frank. His own anxiety was making the girls worry, Julie comforting Susie when she started crying. Finally, Joey stopped, his teeth grit and his hands balled into fists. Wordlessly, he started down the hill.

"Joey-" Julie began.

Joey cut her off. "Stay here. I'm going to look for him. If I don't come back, take Susie and get out of here."

Susie reached for him, though he was already much too far away. "W-wait! Joey!"

Ignoring the words, Joey stomped into the forest, tracking Frank by his footsteps in the snow. For a while, anger actually fueled him. How could that idiot break away from the Legion on a hunch like that? They were supposed to do everything together, that was the point. The world didn't want them, so they stayed together. He huffed. The idiot probably got lost.

After a little while, he stumbled upon a small clearing, with something in the center. A few moments passed before he realized the mass was Frank's body, tied up and gagged.

"Fuck! Frank?!" He ran over and sat him up. Frank's twitchy actions were freaking him out, and he untied his mouth. "What hap-"

"RUN!!" Frank screamed at him.

His shriek came too late as a single loud crack broke the silence of the forest. Joey stared into Frank's eyes as a small smile formed on his lips. "Fuck, dude. We really did it this time, didn't we...?"

"Joey." Frank struggled against his bonds as his friend collapsed in the snow, blood seeping from the gunshot wound in his back. "Joey...! Joey!! Get up! Please, get up!" He struggled to his knees and crawled through his arms, allowing him to roll Joey over. "Hey, look at me, man! Come on, look at me!" Despite his pleas, his cracking voice couldn't reach the glazed eyes of his best friend as he stared at the sky. His chest has stopped moving, but the small smile remained. Frank's next attempt at his name broke into a small sob, tears stinging his eyes.

Back at the hill, Susie jumped with a squeak at the loud bang. She and Julie stood in panic, staring at the direction it came from. Susie darted forward, stopping suddenly at Julie's grip on her sleeve. She looked back at her. "We have to go!"

"Joey said-"

"Forget what Joey said!" she screamed. "We are Legion! We go together!"

Julie stayed still a moment, staring into Susie's baby blues. After a moment, she let go. Determination built inside of her. Susie was right. They were Legion. No matter what happened, they'd be together. Always. "Right. Let's go."

The two raced side by side through the snowy trees, following the clear sets of two prints. Before long, they broke into the same clearing, stopping a few feet from Frank. He was openly sobbing, cradling Joey's body as the stain of red had finally stopped growing. Frank started as Susie cried out in dispair, falling by Joey's body and frantically shaking him. Julie moved to cut Frank's bound hands and feet, taking him into her arms as he clung to her. Susie, having accepted Joey was gone, placed her head on his chest and screamed.

Frank pulled away suddenly and took Julie by the shoulders. "You have to leave. You have to leave now! It's an ambush!"

As if on cue, the officers rushed out, scaring Susie. Julie pulled her knife and turned her rage to them, charging them despite Frank's shout to stay put. She slid around one of them and stabbed him in the back of the throat, the knife shooting out of the front. The officer was going to die as it was, so they all turned their weapons to her. Frank grabbed Susie and covered her eyes. "JULIE!"

His shout was drowned by the cocophonous sound of gunfire. He couldn't tear his eyes from the decimation of his girlfriend, nor the bloody form of her body splayed on the ground. The officers turned on the two remaining Legion. Frank held Susie's crying form close. They were unarmed now. There was no reason for them to be aiming. There was no reason for them to have shot Joey. Julie never would have attacked if they hadn't.

"Frankie?"

He glanced down at the crying girl. His brave face was failing, he knew, but he didn't know what to do. His hands were shaking. His eyes were red from crying over Joey.

She did her best to smile at him. "We are Legion."

He smiled. "We are Legion."

She gave him a wide, braced smile before placing her hands on his chest. With a strength he didn't know she had, she shoved him away into a bush just as the guns began firing. Her knees hit the snow and she fell. She never felt the bullets.

"Shit, find the other one!" the commander ordered, fanning out his team into the woods, believing Frank may have bolted.

Frank stared at the remains of his Legion. His friends. The only people who ever mattered to him. He grit his teeth and cursed the tears flowing freshly down his cheeks. With a sharp inhale, he punched the ground next to him, feeling a distinct metal surface. His knife. He picked it up with shaking hands, feeling the familiar sensation of adrenaline flowing through his veins. Everything had been ripped from him. There's was nothing left to lose.

Nothing.

He stood and brandished the blade, watching it glint in the sunlight reflecting off the snow. Vengeance took over his mind. His Legion was gone, but he wasn't going to let them die in vain.

He took to the shadows, spotting a nearby officer. He dropped from a low branch right behind him and, much like how Julie did, he shoved the blade into the back of his throat, tearing out of the front and covered the officer's mouth, watching the blood seep from his hand and listening to the man choke on it. Frank ripped the knife to the side, half-decapitating the body and threw it to the ground. He stared at the blood on his hand before reaching up and placing his mask over his face.

There were five left.

Frank waited in the same shadows as another stumbled upon the body. He let out a warning shout just before a knife met his stomach. Frank straddled the bastard and stabbed him over and over, watching him struggle for his life; a struggle he finally lost.

"Watch out!" the commander shouted. "The boy's unstable, and found a weapon! Shoot on sight!"

Good luck, he thought, disappearing once again.

Four.

He traveled from treetop to treetop, searching for another member. The next one he found was a young woman, who looked much more afraid than any of the males. She was the first one to have shot Julie. She wouldn't be receiving any mercy from him. Still, the one who killed his girlfriend deserved a special death. No blood would be shed this time. He had a plan.

Returning to the first officer, he stole the rope that was tied to his belt, hoping the woman would be easy to find again. She was a tad deeper in the woods than when he left, but that was all the better for him. He stepped out from behind one of the trees with the rope in hand.

"Freeze!" she shouted. Did she not understand the shoot on sight command she was given? "On the ground! I don't want to hurt you!"

"Bullshit," he growled. He slipped back behind the tree and moved under the cover of darkness, putting her on edge. She swung her head back and forth, searching for him. Her fear put her in more danger than she already was; now she was an easy target. He appeared next to her and grabbed her wrist, throwing the gun from her hands, lost to the snow. He dragged her writhing form to a tree and dragged her up a few branches. Pinning her hands behind her, he laid her on her back, dangling perilously on the flimsy branch.

"We can talk about this," she pleaded. "Please, just let me talk to you."

He traced a soft line on her cheek with the knife. "You're a new officer, aren't you? You aren't even trying to throw me off. Weak." He pulled the rope out and tied a knot, dangling it in front of her. The loop reflected in her terrified blue eyes.

She couldn't break free, and couldn't attempt to throw him off without putting herself in danger as well. She could only watch as he secured the other end to the branch and slowly, carefully, tauntingly placed the loop over her neck, like a beautiful necklace. It suit her, he thought. Her swiftly redening eyes stared into the eyes of the mask as he tightened it. "Please," she whispered. "Please, I have children...a six year old little boy and a three year old little girl. They need me..."

Frank sat back off of her, balancing expertly on the thin branch. He pulled her up by the rope collar and brushed a strand of blonde from her face. He leaned in close to her ear. "You should have thought about that before you killed my Legion. They'll be fine." He shoved her off, placing his foot firmly on the knot in case the momentum unraveled it. Her cry was cut short as the noose did its job and snapped her neck.

Three.

He leapt down and landed just underneath her body. The radio on her side staticked as a voice came through.

"Officer Tanner, come in, have you located any sign of the target? Officers Cann and Andrews are gone..." Frank unclipped the radio and held it to his face. "Officer Tanner, do you read? Angy, come in!"

He lifted his mask slightly and clicked the button on the side. "Officer Tanner is a bit tied up at the moment."

"You son of a bitch! Commander Rickard to Waters and Anders, get in the clearing! I repeat, regroup in the clearing!"

Frank watched as the remaining two officers darted to their commander in the center of the clearing, all back to back and circling like a pack of dumb fish, searching for the shark picking them off one by one.

"Show yourself, coward!"

"A coward, am I?" Frank twirled his knife as he stepped into the light. "A bit hypocritical coming from the guy who used me as bait to take out my Legion."

"This is your only chance, Morrison! Drop the knife and surrender!"

Frank knelt by Susie's body, petting her bright pink hair and rubbing his thumb over her cheek. "Did you know Sue was unarmed? Completely? You already knew I was unarmed." He growled at them. "You didn't have to kill them! We'd have all surrendered if I told them to! I'm their leader!"

"I said drop it!"

"Bite me." He charged them, weaving around to throw off their bullets. He grit his teeth as one grazed his shoulder before full on tackling the smaller of the three of them, rolling around and placing the knife firmly against his throat. "Ah ah, you've already lost four of your team. Really wanna lose another? By your own hand too?"

"I'll do what I have to to keep this place peaceful!" Though his tone was resolute, his grip on his gun was shaking.

"No need to trouble yourself." Frank dragged the knife with all the force he had across his throat.

The other two began shooting. Frank gasped as a bullet found its way into his stomach, ripping out the back, then again as another slammed into his leg. He struggled to his feet and ran despite the wounds, slashing at the commander before turning and doing the same to the other, keeping them unable to aim properly. With a spin, he dug his knife into the officer's head, feeling the bone break as the blade entered his brain. Distracted, he lurched forward from the shot to the shoulder, growling in pain. He fell to his hands and knees, eyes shut tight, feeling blood rise in his throat and spitting it out, coughing.

"I read your file, Morrison," Commander Rickard said, gun trained on the back of his head. "Your life was hard, but you had no business making other peoples' lives hard too. I think about things like this, and I realize that your parents were right to give you up. And your foster father right to treat you like the dog you are-"

Frank darted up and slammed his knife directly into the officers chest, into his heart. At the same time, the officer fired, the bullet tearing into Frank's own chest. Rickard's shocked face was all the satisfaction Frank needed. He kicked Rickard down and watched the blood pour like a broken fountain. One man took out a whole swat team on his own. That's something he would brag to the Legion about-

He turned slowly, the adrenaline finally draining and showing him just how tired he was. He dragged his burning legs across the clearing, first to Joey, straightening his limbs and placing his mask on his face. Then to Susie, pulling her limp body into his arms and setting her next to him, placing her tiny hand in his much larger one. He sobbed softly as he pulled her mask on. She was too young, too sweet for this kind of death. He struggled to stand, stumbling as he traveled to Julie.

"Hey, baby..." he whispered, lifting her bridal style. "Wish I coulda carried you like this down the isle one day..."

He set her by Susie and placed her hand over Sue's. He leaned down and gave her a soft kiss on her lips, having already gone cold, before pulling her mask over her face as well. He finally collapsed next to her, his breaths coming fast and shallow as the darkness creeped in on his vision. He grasped her hand, weaving his fingers through hers as they had done so many times before.

He stared up at the sky, clouded over since his rage-induced murder started. He spied the first flecks of snow as they drifted down, but he couldn't feel the chill that would usually come with them. The sight comforted him.

"Look, Joe," he strained. "It's snowing." Joey loved the snow after all.

He could feel his own breathing slow, the rush of his frantic heartbeat the only thing he can hear. Soon, even that faded into nothing as he closed his eyes.

"We go together," he whispered with his last breath. "We are Legion..."

Frank woke with a start, sitting up so fast it sent his head in a whirl. "What...? Where am I?" He pulled at his clothes. "No blood? What happened to my gunshots...?"

"There you are!"

The voice made Frank's head shoot up, locking eyes with the three closest people he'd ever known. Julie and Susie smiled at him from a few steps away as Joey crouched in front of him, holding his hand out.

"We wondered when you were gonna join us," Susie said, crossing her arms with a fake pout. "We were worried!"

Frank stared behind the three of them at the swirling red and black clouds above him as a strange tendril decended. He laughed, a bit nervously. "Oh what the hell is this?" He gripped Joey's hand and allowed him to pull him to his feet.

"Welcome to The Fog, Frank Morrison." The voice seemed to resonate all around him yet only in his head.

"We go together, right?" Julie said, pressing herself against him and leaning her head on his shoulder.

Frank grinned and twirled his knife. "Hell yeah."

It was a new adventure for The Legion, and he was ready to roll.

#slashers #horror slasher #Frank Morrison #The Legion #Joey #Susie #Julie #fanfic #angst #violence #my feelings hurt #writing

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subvertingyourexpectations · 5 years ago

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Top Ten Films of 2019

2019 was… I’m gonna be honest, not a very great year for cinema. Aside from a handful of standouts, I have seen very few things that completely blew me away. Especially given the past few years, we haven’t gotten a Roma, or a Phantom Thread, or a Denis Villeneuve movie. Anyway, this is my top ten favorite films of 2019.

But first…

Films That Would Make It But Didn’t “Technically” Come Out in 2019

Long Day’s Journey into Night

I already talked at length about this film, but I love it to pieces. It has twisted the visual language of cinema into its own beautiful and bizarre version, crafting a puzzle box of a movie that I absolutely adored. But, it technically came out at the end of 2018, so it can’t be on the list.

Tigers Are Not Afraid

If you like foreign films, this is a must-see. If you like tragic dramas anchored by some terrific child actor performances, this is a must-see. If you like horror movies, well, it’s not really a horror movie but people keep describing it as one, so you should probably see it. It’s a beautiful little imaginative tale about the effects of the drug war on orphaned kids, and if you can catch it on streaming I would definitely check it out. But, even though it came out in limited release in August, it came out in Mexico in 2017, so I can’t include it.

One Cut of the Dead

Maybe the most original film I’ve seen in years? The first half is a terrific little zombie flick all in one camera shot, and somehow the second half expands on this and is ten times better. Watching this in a packed house was one of my favorite moviegoing experiences of the year. It’s one of the most funny and, again, original movies I’ve seen in years.

Shadow

UGH ALL THE GREAT FOREIGN FILMS DIDN’T COME OUT IN 2019. Anyway this movie is incredible and is maybe the best use of grayscale I’ve seen in any film.

Movies That Might’ve Made the List But I Sadly Have Not Seen Them Yet

Portrait of a Lady on Fire

Pain and Glory

1917

Bad Education

Little Women

The Souvenir

Okay, now onto the actual list…

10. Ad Astra

Brad Pitt and James Gray’s remake of Apocalypse Now in space is maybe the weirdest premise for a movie, and yet I really enjoyed Ad Astra. There’s clearly some touches of studio interference that make this movie worse (read: Brad Pitt’s narration), but the underlying themes of anxiety and depression are some of the best I’ve seen on screen. Couple that with Brad Pitt’s best performance of the year (yes), the visual splendor on display, and this movie is an easy inclusion in my top ten of the year.

9. Uncut Gems

I need to go lie down. After really enjoying the Safdie Brothers’ previous films (Good Time and Heaven Knows What), I was really excited for this movie, and I was not let down. The frenetic, dare-I-say crackhead energy that the Safdies are able to convey in their films is immensely satisfying to watch, and the way Adam Sandler channels it is one of my favorite performances of the year. The last twenty minutes of this movie is just pure panic attack.

8. The Irishman

Somehow Scorsese’s 209-minute long epic is one of the most watchable films of the year. This is just a terrific example of everyone firing on all cylinders; the performances are great, the script is great, the editing is unbelievable (this movie feels like it is two hours long), and the directing and thematic development towards the third act is some of Scorsese’s best.

7. The Farewell

A calling card for director Lulu Wang as much as it is for Awkwafina in dramatic roles, The Farewell is an absolute delight. The family dynamics throughout all feel refreshingly authentic, and the film masterfully weaves between its comedic moments and tragic undertones. If it wasn’t for some choices made at the ending, this would probably rank higher on my list.

6. El Camino

How bad was 2019 for film? A Breaking Bad movie is my sixth favorite film of the year. It doesn’t matter if we “needed” this movie or not, El Camino is just so incredibly well-made and enjoyable. It’s always a pleasure seeing something new in the Breaking Bad universe, but more than that I think this film is a genuinely beautiful swan song for one of the greatest characters in television.

5. Waves

This movie is meandering, aimless, pretentious, and completely style over substance. And yet, the last half hour of this movie hit me harder than almost anything this year. Regardless of how you feel about the characters, I feel like Waves has an overwhelmingly positive message in the end, which is to grow away from your hatred and learn to forgive and love. I’m sure many people will find the way this movie gets to that message to be kind of pointless and wandering, but to me it just turned a pretty good film into one of my favorites of the year.

4. The Mustang

My local 3-screen art house closed in April of this year. I went there as often as I could, because they were the only theater in town that would play a lot of independent and foreign films. It was the first place I saw Roma, and the first (and, let’s face it, last) time I saw Stalker on the big screen. The last night they were open, I went and saw The Mustang, not based on anything to do with the movie, just because I wanted to be there one last time. It was completely sold out, far busier than I’d ever seen them. In the past I’d always had free roam of where to sit, but that last night I was in the third row from the front.

If Ad Astra is about depression, then The Mustang is about anger, and learning to overcome your anger and grow as a person. It’s about a prison in Nevada that has a rehabilitation program where violent convicts train wild Mustangs, which are later sold to local ranches and farms. Roman (a terrific performance from Matthias Schoenaerts) is one such convict, and his personal struggle to overcome his anger is beautifully realized against the backdrop of having to fight a wild animal. (Seriously, he goes in swinging and it does not end well for him.) It’s a great story, and it’s a must-watch if you haven’t seen it. The emotional ending coupled with the fact that my favorite theater was closing left me a complete wreck when the credits rolled. (I’m starting to realize my top five films all just boil down to “the ending wrecked me”.)

3. The LEGO Movie 2: The Second Part

This is like The Mustang but for kids.

Okay okay, hear me out, I only saw this movie once when it first came out 11 months ago, and I’m not ever watching it again because I thought it was perfection. I feel like on a repeat visit the songs will become grating, the plot will feel ridiculous, and the themes of toxic masculinity that I appreciated so dearly will seem like faint whispers instead of clear subtext. And yet in the theater, I absolutely adored the songs and the plot and the clear subtext about being a better brother/man. The real-world parallels that were a surprise twist at the end of the first film are used beautifully in The Second Part, because the plot is simply just one big metaphor for a little sister who wants to play with her older brother. It’s touching, it’s funny, and it gets stuck inside your heart. It’s such a shame that the LEGO film franchise is all but dead, because if we had kept getting films like this, children’s movies would definitely be better for it.

2. Parasite

Everything fantastic about this film has already been said about it by people far smarter than me, so I’ll just say this: it is every bit as amazing as people hyped it up to be. This movie is a biting satire, a laugh-out-loud comedy, and an edge of your seat thriller. It has left an imprint on my brain since I first saw it back in October, to the point where as much as I have tried to analyze and dissect, this film, I don’t know if there’s a single flaw with it, there’s genuinely nothing I would change about this movie. If you see one movie this year, it should be Parasite.

1. The Last Black Man in San Francisco

In July of 2019, I had to make probably the biggest decision of my (brief) career thus far. I was going to leave my management position at a 24-screen theater I’d loved dearly to go work in an office. I loved everything about the movie theater, I’d worked there for almost four years, but at a certain point it just had diminishing returns. Newer upper management and constant changes coming down from the big-whigs had turned my favorite building into a place I started to resent, a place I didn’t recognize. I tried to fight the change, and re-institute everything I loved about this building that I practically grew up in, but you can’t fight change, and you shouldn’t romanticize the past.

I’ve never seen these themes more realized in film than in The Last Black Man in San Francisco. It tells the story of Jimmie Fails, a native San Franciscan who has to watch the city he’s loved his whole life descend into a rapidly gentrified hellscape that leaves many homeless and helpless. He often visits his childhood home, a beautiful three-story house with a “witch hat” on top, now owned by an older white couple. This doesn’t stop him from romanticizing the house, romanticizing the past, as he constantly visits and attempts to fix up the house, oftentimes clashing with the current inhabitants.

This disdain from the couple is an all-too-real parallel message that he’s getting from the city itself: You’re not welcome here anymore. Much as Jimmie has tied his identity to this home, and this city, he is hardly welcome in either. But for one brief instant, he gets to live his dream. The house gets stuck in a familial dispute, causing the older couple to move out. Leaving behind a big empty house that no one is occupying, Jimmie and his best friend Montgomery decide to just move right in, and have their way. They bring in all the old furniture from Jimmie’s childhood, they paint the walls, repair the original woodworking, all in service of Jimmie’s dream to simply exist in this space, and preserve something sacred.

Eventually though, reality comes crashing down, and try as he might, Jimmie can’t stay in the house, and he has to learn a hard truth: you cannot tie yourself emotionally to a physical space. Whether it’s a house, a city, a job, you simply cannot love something that doesn’t love you back. You will get hurt every time.

But it’s so easy to love. It’s so easy to play the piano in the entranceway of your childhood home. It’s so easy to relax in the sauna upstairs, or smoke on the balcony, or just lay on the floor and admire the witch hat. The Last Black Man in San Francisco makes you fall in love with this house, and with Jimmie and Montgomery, and as much as we see ourselves in them, we too have to learn the same lessons. As much as we want to inhabit a space, and get the fullest potential out of it, you cannot ever stop change, and you cannot stand in the way of it without going insane.

And maybe it was just because I was going through this personal development the first time I saw this movie, but it hit me like a ton of bricks. It stuck in my brain so much that by the time I saw it a second time, I was a complete mess; I cried four times. I cried for Jimmie, I cried for the house, and I cried for myself. I cried for the things we all lost, the things that would never be the same, and because we would have to learn to accept that. This is what’s so beautiful about The Last Black Man in San Francisco, and on top of the phenomenal acting, emotional script, and gorgeous visuals, it’s what made it my favorite film of the year.

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shutupvan · 5 years ago

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An experience in coquetry.

Let me put this sweet, swift, sharp love into prose to close a chapter that simultaneously typified what 2019 was to me and what 2020 will likely be.

Since Thomas, Spyro was the first person I’ve fallen for.

I realised in July 2019 (the last time I saw Thomas, hopefully ever in this life!) that he had not left me heartbroken. He had just left me broken. I came to terms with how toxic and dysfunctional that relationship had been - and that his cruelties had outweighed his kindness in large measures. I gained insight into how little I respected myself, how unhinged I was, how badly I thirst for love and attract people who feed me vinegar and say this is love! this is love! and I drink it thinking it’s wine.

I asked Spyro out two months after that epiphany. I fancied him - I was intrigued and wanted to know him. I just wanted to understand more of who he was, and that, after all, is what dating is. Things ended with Thomas back in 2018 (ended for him, I had continued to pine for much longer), and my mother had been pushing me for so long to ask Spyro out. I kept telling her that I hadn’t been ready. But after having the rose-tinted glass shattered on what Thomas and I were I didn’t want to waste any more of my time licking wounds. So I asked Spyro out in Septemeber 2019. It felt incredibly good and brave. I didn’t have any expectations - and it felt like a really wonderful ‘Year of Possibility’ milestone. To go into dating without crazy thoughts of ‘this is the one I’ll marry’ or ‘this is The One for me.’ I just wanted to know him as a complete person.

There was a lot I liked about him. A lot that was dreamy. He was forthright, he was kind, he was intelligent, he was witty, he was extroverted, he was handsome. He was very attentive. It was the first time I’ve dated someone with the same religious beliefs as me while also having a similar outlook on life as me (messy, painful, shades of grey). After the third date, he referred to me as his girlfriend. On the fourth date he was telling me how serious he was, he knew what he wanted and didn’t I, too? And I was ravenous for that kind of commitment, I jumped into it like a cool pool because Thomas had kept me in a desert for so long, refusing over and over to validate our relationship until long after it was done and he could use that against me as yet another weapon to hurt me.

I don’t need to write about falling in love with Spyro here. I have a whole tag outlining that experience. I don’t need to dwell on the good moments because they were what they were, and they were lovely! He is the second person I’ve kissed and felt something. I had been so terrified of kissing Spyro (I remember the panic attack that persisted during the entire third date, the shaking and the babbling and the sitting three feet away from him) because I liked him so much and I was scared that I would kiss him and feel nothing. That he would become another corpse. And that would confirm that Thomas was the only person I’d ever feel a single thing for. I couldn’t bear it.

But we kissed and it was right, it was fluttery, it was good! I wish I had kissed him more when I had the chance, even though I never let the chance pass me by. And it was life after death - I could learn to love other people and I was loveable. It was nice to pursue as much as I was being pursued.

When Spyro said I love you for the first time it felt too soon for me. I had been planning on saying it before he left for Europe at the end of December, or even once he had gotten back (likely the latter). He still didn’t really know me and I didn’t know him well enough to use a word as heavy as love. I had this moment where I stopped him (he broke away from the kiss and said, “Can I say something-” and I knew he was about to say it. And I said “Wait. Stop.” I made him pause while I paused the TV behind us. I considered at that moment saying, not yet, not now, it’s too quick! It’s not supposed to be that quick. I had told my parents in the days before that things were moving too quickly and their protests had been ‘don’t you discourage him, his intentions are pure, don’t do anything to distance him,’ followed by my dad’s fucking timeline of when we would get engaged and married, which was a load of pressure I had not even touched on. But I knew, because I’ve refused to say I love you once before many years ago, that if I did that to him now it would be the seal of death on us dating. I had been thinking about it, I had been falling in love with him, but I wasn’t ready to say it. But in the moment, instead of expressing any of this, I said I love you too. It wasn’t a lie, it was just premature.

Love for me is never a spark - love is like the sun rising. Slow, gradual, gradients of pink until it blazes. A daily occurrence. The persistence to rise even in clouds, even in haze, even when you don’t want the next day to begin. Love isn’t just a feeling. It evolves from the feeling and becomes a purpose, it becomes your soul’s greatest drive to lay yourself down for the other. It is more than a feeling. It is attention, trust, loyalty, honesty, mutual growth and support. It isn’t just a dizzy feeling that makes your heart sing (but you would hope that feeling is mixed in there too!)

When Spyro was in Europe, he cheated on me. He called me at the start of January to tell me. He had been out in Budapest, drunk, dancing with a girl and made out with her. Immediately following that phone call, I was in shock. But I wasn’t at all surprised. Wasn’t surprised he had done it and wasn’t surprised I had been cheated on. It was like, oh, there we are. It was bound to happen to me, of course, it was. We give and receive the quality of care that what we think we deserve - Thomas had taught me that.

He really relishes being out drinking and dancing and nighttiming. Not occasionally, pretty regularly by what he kept telling and showing me. To the point of unconsciousness. To the point of no consequence. Where he has an excuse for behaving in exact opposition to his moral code. Where he had an excuse to make me uncomfortable. When I mentioned it to him before the break up he got very self-defensive. But he later said it is his way to quell stress. And I know what that really means: his way to numb himself from dealing with facing himself.

I have a long list of things I’ve used to numb myself in the moments where I cannot bear to confront myself - alcohol had been one of them and recently I slipped into that the day he returned from Europe, putting off dealing with the bad by getting drunk and feeling good. I’m off drinking for a while because of it. Getting drunk to let off steam is the stupidest thing in the world, it leaves you feeling worse. Cutting yourself to purge your anger, starving yourself to make yourself feel smaller, masturbating just for a continual dopamine ride, scrolling mindlessly through social media or binging Netflix is a dysfunctional way to avoid looking inward - to distract or to numb. None of those activities are bad in themselves (mm..perhaps self-harm being the exception) but using them as a coping mechanism to avoid dealing with your broken ego is problematic. And I have literally spent 2018 and 2019 working on no longer doing any of those things.

Anyway, I knew that him drinking to the point where he felt out of control (we all prefer that feeling to mastering ourselves) meant that he was not ready to be in a relationship. I had known this from the beginning, to be frank. You don’t seek an escape from ordinary life and your ordinary self, if you’re at peace with yourself and the person you're in a relationship with. I mean, unless you’re dating very casually and just want to fuck around, in which case drink and party away. That lifestyle isn’t even a big deal - most people I know in their twenties would prefer to be out partying, getting drunk, or getting high, spending money carelessly, than to do the opposite - planning with another person, setting life goals, investing in somebody else’s wellbeing and self-care as well as your own.

He told me that he hadn’t ever been in love with me - that he had said it because he feared that I was going to end things with him. He said other things I’m not going to write down because they were too hurtful. I don’t understand why he spelled this out when I had simply given him the option of breaking up. I could analyse this until the cows come home but I don’t see the point to it. I think it boils down to this: he desired to be in love, he wanted to be in a secure and serious relationship, to live up to this idea of who he is supposed to be impressed upon him from his family and church. And then the other side of him that is not ready to give up living selfishly and singly. If he wants to continue living selfishly, I don’t begrudge that of him. I just wished he wouldn’t have committed so fast. Over the course of our dating, he had commented that the relationship would get in the way of him going out with the boys, always jokingly. But he feared he was missing out on something by setting out on a serious relationship. Whereas I know that I’m not missing out on anything I did in 2017 and prior. I am glad the distractions are over with.

Likely, this was a big part of why he wasn’t into me. I am far too homely, too desperate to do the things that give me meaning and connection and purpose. Maybe he wanted those things from me at first before realising what that would mean parting with. He said he felt no spark with me, but I’m not sure if I believe that. If that’s the case, he lied continuously throughout the dalliance. I think he was searching for an excuse. I knew from the moment he told me that he kissed somebody else that it was his way of sabotaging things, his excuse to leave the relationship. He needed to invent a reason. I think it was less about the spark, more about us not being compatible with what our values are and where we both are right now in life. In that respect, I agree with him - we have not clicked together as two people are meant to when they want to partner up to do life together and tackle the heavy, hard things together. On paper, it would have looked perfect!

I also realise my own faults in this: I was so possessive with Thomas, but this time I was too passive. I have become so afraid of conflict that I would rather betray my own intuition. That I still have so much anxiety leftover from Thomas that I can’t yet date. I’ve already journaled a lot about the week leading up to Spyro and I splitting up, so I won’t write about it here. I know my faults. I know where I lacked self-awareness. I treated him pretty rough in the last week. I kept spiralling back into everything that had happened last time - convinced he was manipulating me or trying to play mind games. But I don’t think Spyro is that kind of person. I think he fooled me because he was fooling himself.

This is what I took away from it all:

1. I will be going to see a therapist. Making the appointment today. If I hadn’t had this experience with Spyro then I would never have realised that I actually need a therapist, or had the guts to see one, or considered myself worthy of care, considered my issues worthy of help. So I’m actually very grateful to him for this.

2. I should be more explicit when I start dating someone, right from the outset. I should spell out my damage and insist I that things move slowly with communication at key points. I need to suss out their values and their life goals before I even consider prising my heart open.

3. I need to keep being brave. I am still so glad I asked him out and I’m glad for every moment with him. I’m glad we had this short-lived little love affair. It was a perfect way to end 2019 (such a gorgeous year it was), to fall in love during spring, to practice what it means to love. I’m injured from it but I know it will be fine - it just meant it wasn’t supposed to be! I’m glad it wasn’t dragged out. It opened up a door for 2020 - the year of the inner child. I have so much work to do with my inner child. I have so, so much healing to do in order to excavate my own defence mechanisms, my flaws and my faults. It was excellent to start the year having another person hold a mirror up to me through some heartbreak. I know that this relationship was for my higher purpose and I am grateful.

As always, I wish him the best but I wish myself better!

#the year of the inner child #love interest

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tempestaurora · 6 years ago

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WHUMPVEMBER #22: FRIENDLY FIRE

this was gonna be angst central and then i couldn’t be bothered and decided to be cute instead. anyway, this can follow on from day 21 if you want. it’ll be set somewhere like a year after, but in the same verse. it’s perfectly fine as a standalone, however. AO3

“Are you even aiming for her mouth?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow at Peter across the table, who was making airplane noises as he tried to feed baby Morgan, giggling in her high seat.

“Yeah,” Peter muttered, despite the mess that was the apple-flavoured baby food across the tray and table. “She’s just not great at holding still – come on, Morgan, there you go!”

Tony smiled at the scene before turning back to his own dinner. Pepper sat next to him, her fingers curled around her wine glass, her bare feet tapping a rhythm out on the floor.

“He’s doing great,” Pepper said, as Morgan wasn’t trying to stick her fist in the bowl. “Yesterday, I was trying to get her to eat breakfast and she picked up the bowl and threw it across the room.” Peter and Tony laughed as she smiled, tipping her head to the side. “She’s got a good arm – almost cleared the couch.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Is that what caused the suspicious stain down the back of it?”

Pepper hummed. “The maid’s visiting on Friday, I’m going to see if she can fix it because I sure as hell couldn’t.”

Tony opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by FRIDAY speaking overhead.

“There are incoming reports of an attack on the Met. Men armed with guns have attacked civilians and taken hostages.”

The three superheroes at the table looked at one another for a moment before Tony stood. He sent a glance at the other two and then his daughter, giggling and oblivious to the mood shift.

“You two go,” Pepper said. “I’ll take Morgan to Julie in PR and catch up.”

Tony and Peter nodded in tandem, then the three of them were on their feet; Tony rushing out to the balcony, calling the armour to attach around his body and Peter to the couch where he’d dumped his backpack, pulling out the Spiderman suit and jumping into it. Pepper swung Morgan up into her arms and disappeared into the depths of the penthouse, towards the elevator, where she’d search for one of her friends, who worked for SI in the building, to babysit, before calling the Rescue armour.

Tony looked out across the city, sky slowly growing dark, and let his fingers twitch until Peter ran out, swinging onto Tony’s back. The two of them lifted off, FRIDAY plotting the course to the Met and linking the comms together at once.

“The attack has been claimed by the Watch Dogs,” FRIDAY announced.

“The who now?” Tony replied.

“The Watch Dogs,” Peter said. “They’re an anti-inhuman terrorist group. How don’t you know that?”

If Tony could’ve shrugged while flying with a spider-child on his back, he would’ve. “Been busy raising an infant or something like that. Why would the German Shepherds attack the Met?”

FRIDAY responded instantly. “The newest exhibition is a celebration of inhuman powers and culture. Tonight is the opening, in which many inhuman artists and prominent members of their community were invited. According to reports from police frequencies, it is believed that at least half of the people at the event are dead.”

“Shit,” Peter muttered.

“Yeah, kid,” Tony breathed. “Shit.”

The Met didn’t look like a bloodbath from the outside. It was lit up with spotlights shooting beams out into the sky; neon lights along the edges of the building, large signs and banners announcing the exhibition: Inhuman. The initial panic with inhumans was over long ago; many had gone through Terrigenisis, discovered incredible powers – given to them by the Cree, or something, Tony had only skimmed the report – and been immediately added to a watchlist.

When the Accords were put into place, inhumans were called in to sign right after the Avengers. After that, it was mutants and then it was just the vigilantes on the streets who hadn’t come in to sign because they’d found the loophole that they weren’t any of the above. Peter was like them – luckily still a minor and so didn’t have to sign yet – but people like Jessica Jones and Luke Cage (illegal experiments) and Daredevil (bad luck and God turning his back on him) were then searched for in the streets until they signed the papers they’d been avoiding.

There were still people out there avoiding the Accords, and Tony assumed there always would be – but he hadn’t heard of the Watch Dogs; hadn’t heard of their anti-inhuman code and the attacks they’d pulled off before. FRIDAY listed them in one ear during the trip and fell silent upon arrival.

It didn’t look like a bloodbath at all. Not from outside.

Police were lined up in squad cars; snipers on nearby roofs and a strike team clambering out of a van. Peter dropped off Tony’s back as an officer approached, supposedly the one in charge.

“Stark,” she said with a nod. “I hope you’re here to make yourself useful.”

“Be a bit of a dick move if I was just here to watch,” Tony replied, looking to the building.

“They entered through the front,” the officer said. “Took down security and went into the main event where they opened fire. There’s been zero contact with them so far, but they are live streaming.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

She nodded him to the nearest squad car, where a few officers were crowded around a phone. Tony and Peter followed and looked as she angled the phone towards them.

“FRI,” he said, “get the feed for Spidey and my monitors.”

He looked away as it appeared in front of him; a poor angle of an exhibition hall, blood splattered across the walls and art work, sculptures rising out from piles of dead bodies.

“Christ.”

“You can say that again,” Peter muttered.

“They’ve been spending most of the feed just talking out their asses – anti-inhuman sentiment and all that. We’re gonna have strike teams head in across the different entrances, shoot to kill.”

“And the hostages?”

She sighed. “They started killing one hostage every five minutes about ten minutes ago. Just for kicks. They know what’s going to happen. The longer we wait, the more likely they’re all going to die anyway.”

“Right,” Tony said, blowing out a breath. “Get your teams in position. I’ll head through the front-”

“Karen says there’s a good entrance high up into the room they’re keeping the hostages in,” Peter announced. “I’ll head in through the windows.”

Tony nodded. “Stay out of sight, alright? Don’t jump in until everyone’s in position – I’ll link us to the police comms.”

Peter saluted. “Got it. Oh – Karen says Pepper’s on her way over.”

“Great. FRIDAY can relay the plan to her. Kid, you and Rescue try and save as many hostages as possible.”

Peter scoffed. “Like I was going to do anything else.”

The assault happened in the time it took for Tony’s heart to beat once, twice, three times-

It was gunfire and blood splattering; cops falling from their vantage points in stairwells when they were hit and bullets bouncing off Tony’s suit. He fought them with his repulsors and with the strength the suit allowed him; throwing them across the room to be taken out by someone else.

There were less hostages than Tony had hoped. It was more than half the party dead on the ground; their blood painting the art work hanging on the walls and the sculptures of rebirth and Terregensis – moments of new life and broken faces of either heartbreak or absolute delight now painted in a deep, dripping crimson.

The Watch Dogs had bombs, because of course they did, and they went off around the room; small blasts that took down a wall or a group of people. They weren’t the big kind of bombs, but they were still doing damage.

Everywhere Tony turned there was a familiar blur of red. Spiderman leaping across the room, weaving in and out of trouble as he picked up civilians and deposited them at doorways, behind officers, in good hiding places. Peter didn’t focus on the Rabid Dogs much – he took down one, from what Tony saw, and immediately leapt off to help a woman stumbling through the fray.

Then Peter was out of Tony’s sight, and Tony was blasting off the bad guys, left right and centre.

Then, there was silence.

Across the room, whatever laptop they’d been streaming on was a steaming pile of charred plastic, the connection broken, and then two things happened at once:

First, a hand landed on his back. Second, a bomb detonated across the room.

It was a small explosion; localised and did little damage to anything but the floor – but it made everyone jump. It made Tony jump more so, as the hand landed on his back, and he spun suddenly, shooting before thinking; a repulsor beam hitting Peter square in the chest and throwing him across the room.

Peter hit the wall with a force that broke the painting he landed against, before falling to the floor. There was a second of shocked silence, then: “Fuck. Oh shit. Pe- Spidey. Spidey. Fuck, come on.”

Tony shot across the room, his faceplate retracting as he landed by Peter’s side. The front of his suit was smouldering with the blast and his head was drooped forward. Tony shuffled Peter’s body, trying to hear his breathing, trying to feel a pulse.

“FRI-FRIDAY?”

“Mr Parker is still breathing. He may have been knocked unconscious when he hit the wall, however.”

Tony blew out a relieved breath before the nerves set in again. He knocked his kid unconscious. Jesus Christ.

“Tony? Tony! Is he alright?” Pepper’s voice flooded in and Tony turned, only for a second, to find Pepper running across the room, donned in her suit. She’d entered the comms half way through the assault and confirmed that she’d helped hostages cleared the building – but that was before… this.

“Fuck,” Tony said. “FRIDAY thinks he’s unconscious.” Tony was moving Peter’s body until he was leaned up against his chest; his small body feeling so fragile in Tony’s grip. “I thought- I thought he was a bad guy. I – Pep.”

“It’s alright,” Pepper said as her faceplate retracted. “FRIDAY, set up the medbay at the Tower. See who’s on standby and bring them in. Come on, sweetie, let’s get you some help.” As she spoke, Pepper gently took Peter from Tony’s arms until she was carrying him, bridal style, in her own.

“Pep-”

“I’ll get him back to the tower,” she said, then her eyes flickered to the wall for a second, where the broken painting was swinging. “Yes,” she said, to the thin air. “I’ll send him. Tony, the officer in charge wants to speak with you. It’s fine, I’ll look after him.”

Pepper stood, a thousand times less jittery than Tony was feeling. He scrambled up after her. “Pepper-”

“This isn’t your fault,” she said, knowing already what he was going to say. “It was an accident. Spidey’s a tough kid, he’ll make it through. Go talk to the officer and catch up. I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

Pepper started off towards the windows, mostly shattered from the battle, and Tony looked after her, watching Peter’s body shift in her arms.

“Thank you,” he called.

Pepper didn’t reply to him, just smiled over her shoulder. She then turned to Peter. “Yeah, that’s right,” she murmured, soft. “Welcome back to the world of the living. We’re going to take a ride. Hold on.”

Tony watched as Pepper shot off into the night sky, carrying his son – their son? – in her arms.

Tony arrived about two and a half minutes after Pepper did, but it was enough time for Peter to be situated on a bed and for him to start rambling as if nothing had happened.

Tony disassembled the suit before entering, find Pepper in full armour leaning against a wall, her arms crossed and an amused smile playing across her lips. Peter, on the bed, was telling the doctor about the new Lego Death Star he and Ned were building – it was twice the size of their last one and they’d saved up for it for three months.

He looked up when Tony entered. “Hey, Tony!” Peter greeted.

“Hey, Pete,” Tony replied, stepping close. God, there was a dark stain on Peter’s suit where the repulsor had burnt it. There’d be no doubt bruises across his back from where he hit the wall. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright,” Peter said. “Though doc’s worried about me going unconscious for a bit there.”

Tony blew out a breath through his nose. “Look, Pete, I’m really sorry-”

“It’s okay,” Peter interrupted. “Really. I made you jump. There was that loud noise. It’s chill-”

“It’s not chill.”

“Okay, but it’s still fine. Seriously. I’m okay, I feel fine, and I know not to get on your bad side because those repulsor blasts are crazy strong.”

Tony winced, so Peter winced, and Tony had the strong feeling that Pepper was laughing at them. “Peter. Really, I’m sorry.”

Peter smiled and Tony could hear him pouring every ounce of sincerity he had into his response. “I forgive you, Tony. Really. But if you feel like you need to make it up to me, I never got to have desert before we rushed off to fight crime-” Peter broke off into laughter as Tony ruffled his hair, his eyes rolling.

“Oh, yeah, you’re fine.”

“See? Told you so!”

Pepper hummed as she stepped to Tony’s side. “Let’s let the doctor be the judge of that. But I agree: desert is needed. I’ll go fetch Morgan and some ice cream. You two be good.” She bumped her knuckles against Peter’s – something they’d been doing recently probably to make Tony feel left out – and pressed a kiss against Tony’s cheek – something she’d been doing for years, that always made Tony feel particularly not left out – before heading for the door.

“Ice cream,” Peter whispered with a smile. “Totally worth you attempting to kill me.”

“I didn’t-”

Peter cackled at Tony’s incredulous expression.

“You’re a terror child. You know that? I’m really glad we had Morgan so she can replace you. I only need one child and I’m picking her.”

Peter laughed still and shifted to the side to let Tony sit on the bed as the doctor moved to the monitor by the wall. “You would never,” Peter said. “Pepper likes me too much for that.”

“Yeah, kid,” Tony smiled. “Pepper would never let me get rid of you.”

As if Tony would ever dream of it, anyway.

#whumptober #irondad spiderson #pepperony #pepper potts #tony stark #bethany talks #whumpvember

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evamohns · 7 years ago

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For me the problem is not William's character as such. He's an asshole and shows need these kind of characters. What I'll never support though is the fact that he pressured Noora into a relationship even though she was absolutely not into in from the beginning and this was framed as something "romantic". I'm sorry, but it was not. I don't know what Julie wanted us to take away from that clichee "romance": That girls need to be pressured to realise they maybe could like someone? ... (1/?)

That being a creeperand emotionally maniulative is romantic? That girls who do not give in arestupid? That it’s totally ok for guys to not take no for an answer? Thatblackmail is a legit way of making girls yours? Also William is portrayed assomeone who is always right, just misunderstood. He doesn’t need to own up tohis mistakes because excuses are made for him. This makes it seem like Noorawas wrong in realising he is an asshole. He was, and is (not only to Noora, butto Vilde and all the other girls), but the way their relationship is shownmakes it seem like the man always knows best and has the right to get the girlhe wants – no matter what she thinks. Julie made a choice in making William anasshole. She also made a choice to romanticise it. So for me Noorhelm and allit stands for is super problematic.

OKAY. Buckle up kids, this is gonna take awhile.

First off:

William never pressured her. Not onesingle time. But more on that later.

Vilde and William. Was. A. One. Sided.Relationship. Vilde materialised and narrated a whole scenario in her head thatwas not happening. They were attracted to each other, they slept together, endof story. The audience was never given any indication that William wanted anythingmore, he didn’t lead her on after the fact, I’m guessing that in William’smind, they both got what they wanted and that’s that; but then here’s this girlcrawling at his feet that he has no romantic interest in, and the onlyplausible way he sees to free himself and her, is to stomp out any residualfeelings. Which he does, brutally.

But before we get hyped up aboutthe following scene, I just want to mention something I’ve talked about before:if it was William following around Vilde, obsessing over her, finding any opportunityto be around her when it has been clearly shown that she ahs no interest in himromantically, there would be no misconceptions and calling Vilde manipulative, abitch, or any of the like. People would be crucifying William for stalking orwhatnot, and praising Vilde for her wit and crushing of a pathetic first year.Instead they choose to ignore that fact that William never made any promises toVilde, and didn’t owe her anything afterward, and vice versa.

But getting back on track, William’sfirst advance was after Noora belittled him in front of the group (rightfully so),and he was immediately brushed off, though the edit still chooses to show Nooralingering on William’s retreating figure, implying interest and obviously foreshadowing.After this, he doesn’t speak to Noora or show any other interest in her untilthe staircase scene (‘you’re so fucking beautiful’). And, anon, if you can findanyone, anti- or pro- who honestly, 100% believes that Noora was not positivelyaffected by William in this moment, I’ll be legitimately shocked. That scenewas flirting 101, and no one can say otherwise.

Cut to the xmas party scene, wherewe later find out that William has agreed to a date with Vilde in order toultimately be closer to Noora. Yes, thiswas a shitty thing to do, but as soon as Noora realises what he was doing, sheasks him to stop and he does on the condition of one date. Not a relationship,not sex, just an hour with her, talking, to which she accepts. He picks her up,brings her a blanket and cocoa and remains polite, recognises she doesn’t necessarilywant to be there and so keeps his distance, tries to impress her, and offers todrive Noora home after cutting the increasingly positive date short.

The party at William’s house isthem getting to know each other, exploring their attraction, having fun,PLAYING w EACH OTHER, and William being relatively reserved (the stripping partdoes make me roll my eyes IF I’M BEING HONEST lmao). And it’s here that we seeNoora take the first real step forward into their relationship – lying andsaying that she has to stay over, and once this info is outed, William has afoot in the door, and he knows it. Anyways, fast forwarding through the cabinep and we get to the Syria party. A party that was designed to raise money solelyfor the Penetrator’s buss, but afterinviting Noora and getting thoroughly confused by her reasoning for not wantingto go, decides to include the refugee cause to the funds raised, all so Noora MAYshow up.

Okay, this is where I start to getheated, because people always seem to forget about this motherfucking scene.Noora is being extremely difficult and stubborn and, to be honest, rude towardhim, and he asks her point blank if she likes him, and tells her that that willbe it if she doesn’t. He’ll stop and leave her be. He. Will. Stop. And. Leave. Her.Alone. If. She. So. Chooses. And she says what she says, and William leavesimmediately. Noora has to sprint and catch him, and SHE KISSES HIM. She initiateseverything, William was ready to stop and give up. It’s Noora who STARTS THERELATIONSHIP.

What part of all that is emotionallymanipulative? Oh, nothing? You don’t say.

Alright, now to the drama, andwhere I can see some people misconstruing everything. Nico enters andeverything basically goes to hell. William is trying to protect Noora from his brother,but Noora doesn’t understand why until after everything happens many episodeslater. So, we have William adamantly trying to keep Noora away from his brother,but in a textbook case of ‘Why Communication is Important in Relationships’, bothof them omit information that would turn out to be vital and would have stoppedpractically everything in eps 7-11 from happening, they take that break. And it’sin these eps, where they have little to no communication, Noora gets drugged/drunk,and wakes up with Nico, and basically has PTSD from it, that William reallysteps up, even though he doesn’t know what’s happening, why his girlfriend isspacing out and having panic attacks. He soothes her, her calms her down, helets her get the sleep she desperately needed, he writes her goddamn paper for her,he doesn’t invade her privacy and snoop on her computer, he stays with her forfifteen hours straight and meanwhile organises everything about the Norway Daything with Eva, Vilde, Sana, and Chris on Noora’s behalf.

And then, comes the fucking text.William, after being told they were on a break, which he accepted, after makingup, after being shut out again immediately, after Noora breaking down, is senta photo (or was it a text – I can’t remember), of Noora with his brother, thismonster he tried so damn hard to keep Noora way from. And Noora can’t give hima straight answer when he confronts her, because she really doesn’t know atthis point. And, he doesn’t lash out or become aBuSiVe, he walks away. Hejust, walks away. He doesn’t get aggressive, he doesn’t yell, he literally justwalks the fuck away.

Noora finds out Nico is a piece ofshit, gets more insight on William, realises she did fuck up, realises thatWilliam was only trying to protect her from Nico. While he’s still extremely angryat her, when she confronts him in the hallway, he again remains silent anddoesn’t lash out at her. She says what she needed to and he listens, and agreesto meet her for their talk.

The talk happens, they make up, andafter everything, William goes and turns himself in for the bottle smashing becauseof everything Noora has told him and taught him.

I’m sure I’m forgetting something Iwanted to say, but yeah, there’s that. Noora was pretty much in control theentire time they were actually together. She was controlling who they told,where they were seen, the break was her idea, and she was the one to seek outWilliam and make up with him. Noora was head over heels in love with him, andhe for her, and if there is any flaw in their relationship in s2, it’s fuckingcommunication with a capital C, not abuse, not manipulation, but fuckingcommunication. If they had just said everything they needed to say, at anypoint before episode 7, the entire second half of the season would not havehappened, but that’s none of my business.

Okay, so quickly over season 3 and4: Noora after knowing about Nico, William’s sister, his parent’s, and his fearof abandonment, ups and leaves him without telling him about it, without eventalking to him out it, and again, he remains silent – he doesn’t lash out, herdoesn’t hurt her in any way, he thinks that that is what she wanted, truly, andso he lets her go. When Sana sends that email, he drops EVERYTHING and comesback home to her. So emotionally manipulative, I know, wow.

Anyway, just some rounding off someof your points:

William never pressured her into sex. Afterrealising she was very serious about not wanting sex, he is the one stoppingthem from going further (revue room, clumsy scene, bench top kitchen scene, 2x12bed scene), and yeah he probably shouldn’t have said ‘I should probably ask ifyou’re ready, but I don’t care’, but if we are believing that Noora literally textedhim ‘I want to fuck you’, there doesn’t leave much room for misinterpretation.

When he was told no, he stayed away. The Justin Bieberscene: she says no, he leaves. She says she doesn’t like him: he leaves. She saysshe’s not ready for sex: he complies with that request and stops Noora whenevershe got a bit too heavy handed. She asks for a break: he agrees without a realfight, even though he knows it’s not what’s best for the both of them.

Blackmailing is wrong, he shouldn’t have donethat. But I don’t think it was with the exact intent of MAKING Noora HIS!!!!!!,for fucks sake.

The man always knows best: I honestly don’t knowwhere you’re going with this point. Whenever it’s shown that either of themthink they know best, it’s shown that they both are wrong, and/or shouldn’thave thought that way. See, lack of communication, Noora lying about whathappened for so long, William not telling her about the fight, the whole argumentabout the fight and the break, Noora lying and saying she has no feelings forhim in 1x05, etc.

William not owning up to his mistakes: Whatmistakes did he make exactly? The blackmail for a date: solved. Lying aboutNico: had valid reasons to. Being a dick: every other character on this show isan asshole, at one point or consistently, it seems to be a running characterflaw – none of them are just as upfront about it as William. Being abusive: heisn’t. Being emotionally manipulative: he isn’t.

So there, that’s my takeaway of William’s character andtheir relationship, and from now on, anytime I get an ask like the ridiculousone above, even after all this time, and after my opinions on this topic havebeen well an truly been put through the wringer, I am referring everyone tothis post. So one last time: no one is ever going to change my mindset, sendingin messages like these will only fuel me to write more about why William isactually one of the most compelling characters on the show, why his and Noora’srelationship is an incredible journey of self-discovery, and why William shouldnot be singled out for being A KID, just like the rest of the them, for beingunreserved about who he is, and for loving the fuck out of Noora Amalie Saetre.

#noorhelm #skam #william magnusson #ask #🎶and dream of para-para-paradise🎶

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doof-doofblog · 4 years ago

Text

"I Want To Report An Assault!"

Monday 11th January 2021

Hello again everyone! Hope you've had a great weekend and doing well! I have seen a few spoilers over the past couple of days and honestly, I'm so excited to blog about it. I believe this episode in particular is a belter! I'm not going to waste any of time and simply jump straight into it!

Ooooh Wow!!! So there's a lot I want to talk about but firstly, I'm going to focus on Sharon. She's still poisoning her new husband, however I do feel like she's kind of struggling to keep it together. Obviously she's having to live with a person who she has grown to despise after learning about his involvement in her son's death. We've already seen her fall off the wagon a couple of times, almost putting little Ollie in danger and also stealing medication from Jean to carry on her plan. She seems more determined than ever to get her revenge and justice for her son. As the days and weeks go by, Ian is visibly getting more and more unwell, I find myself wondering how long it's going to take before he realises that the reason he's unwell is down to his wife. You'd think that if he was taking medicine and taking a lot of rest, and if he hasn't prepared any food or drinks for himself, surely you'd put two and two together? I don't know, who can say for sure?! In this episode, it looks as if Ian is gradually getting worse, as he becomes slightly light-headed and loses his balance, causing him to fall to the floor and knock a considerable amount of glass over. Unfortunately, he does this in front of the whole pub. One of the main people who sees this happen just so happens to be Dotty, the person who warned Sharon about Ian in the first place. Part of me is also questioning, has Sharon actually believed Dotty from the very beginning? I mean, why would she make something like that up? Something is telling me that maybe after what Dotty told her, maybe it played on Sharon's mind and she had to find out for herself whether her claim was true! Personally, I'm looking forward to the moment when Sharon reveals to Ian that she knows about Dennis, it's going to be a powerful woman getting her justice with Ian practically on his knees, begging for forgiveness! Oooo it's going to be great viewing for sure!

Seeing as we've already mentioned Dotty, its been quite a while since she's been in the soap. Tonight she reappears announcing that she's throwing a party whilst Sonia is away! She questions both Ash and Iqra whether they'd like to come, at first they decline the invite, explaining that they're both up early for work the next day. Suddenly, Dotty's phone pings and she's excited to reveal that Peter will be attending her party, surprisingly, as soon as she mentions Peter's name - Ash instantly looks interested and changes her mind, announcing that they will attend Dotty's party after all, much to Iqra's annoyance at the sudden change of mind. Now, why would Ash be interested in Peter? Was there a bit of flirtation going on between them a while back, if I'm not mistaken? If that so happens to be the case then I would really feel for Iqra, especially how her sister warned her of the Panesar family before she left the Square! Could Iqra and Ash's relationship fall apart thanks to Peter? Who knows? What do you think is going on between Ash and Peter? I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions on this one!

The next thing I want to talk about is the Fox/Trueman family. As Denise, Kim and Isaac continue to worry about Patrick, it seems that Sheree does a disappearing act. At first, I think to myself, why on Earth would Sheree flee whilst her husband needs her at such a desperate time in his life! Even when Kim and Denise visit poor Patrick at the hospital, he slowly wakes. It's clear he's very groggy, his speech is still slurred as he asks for his wife. Poor Denise doesn't know what to say and tries to reassure him that she'll be there at his bedside very very soon! Later, both the Fox sisters confront Isaac, questioning where his Mum is, he takes it upon himself to go and search for her. Eventually he finds her drowning her sorrows in Ruby's club, but what she says really shocks me - it's like she's already given up on him. Now, I'm sorry to sound harsh, but if you loved someone, regardless of their health, you'd do everything in your power to support them and be there for them. It may be hard, but you'd find the strength to be there for them. I'm shocked that she stated that she couldn't do it and be there for him - when he is in his hospital bed, desperately asking for her. I don't know, it doesn't sit well in my head. If she states she can't cope, think of poor Patrick, his second major stroke within the space of 7 years (with his first major one happening in July 2014!) Isaac speaks firmly to his Mother, informing her that now he knows for certain that he's his Dad, they need to make more effort with him more than ever and they need to be with him, now, when he needs them the most. I just hope Sheree will come to her senses and realise that her son is right!

The next thing I want to talk about is, Jean! Oooh poor Jean! We saw at Christmas that during the family celebrations, whilst getting changed into a gorgeous new dress, she found a new lump forming. Since then it looks like she's been suffering in silence, not informing her family about her discovery. In this episode, we see her have a check up at the hospital, I do feel for her during this scene. The poor woman breaks down into tears as she checks herself under her hospital gown, it's only when the nurse enters the room that she attempts to put on a brave face. Even though the nurse is trying to be polite and put her at ease, Jean just wants to get straight to the point and questions whether her cancer has returned. I hate to say it but when she stated that she could be "Riddled with it!" - my heart did sink for her, I pray to God that that will not be the case. I absolutely LOVE Jean, she's been one of my favourite characters, Gillian Wright is just a credit to the soap, I know it might be jumping in too deep here, but I pray to God that they don't kill her off. Jean has been through so much during her time on the Square, I think, she more than anyone, deserves a happy ending! I just want to point out that NOTHING has been announced or confirmed regarding Jean's cancer story or whether Gillian Wright will be leaving, I am just voicing my personal thoughts and views. Lets just all hope and pray that our beloved Jean will be okay! Regardless of the sadness of Jean's current story, I want to acknowledge also the comedy between her and Laila Morse - AKA Mo. Can I just comment on the eyebrows - brilliant comedy!

Now the main focus of the soap, the Carter's!! At the beginning of the soap, they are all gathered at Mick and Linda's apartment with Gray. This specific day happens to be the day which Tina is supposed to be attending her court hearing for the attack on Ian! However, we all know full well that Gray has gotten rid of Tina, unbeknown to the Carter family. They all seem to be worrying due to the fact that she hasn't been in touch with any of them, and they all seem to think that this would be the day she'd reach out to them. Shirley seems to be worrying increasingly as she keeps a tight hold of her phone, hoping to hear from her younger sister. But when she proposes trying to contact her instead, Gray panics and instantly informs Shirley that it would look bad on her and also Tina if she did. With Shirley informing Gray that her little sister always gets in touch in the end, Gray takes it upon himself to lie to the Carter family even more by sending a message to Shirley from Tina's phone. Meanwhile, while the Carter's continue to worry about Tina, Katy is at home with Frankie, it has come completely clear to Frankie who and what her Mother is! Katy pleads to Frankie to believe her and forget about Mick, but it's something that she just can't do! She tells her Mother to state who her Father is, if Mick isn't, but Katy can't bring herself to answer. Eventually Frankie leaves the house, leaving Katy worrying and panicking, but it's only when the police turn up at her house, she flees out the back of the house. (Even the police state that they have come for Frankie!). Making a silly and dangerous decision, Katy takes it upon herself to give Mick a visit and returns to the Square, it's there she informs him that Frankie has called the police on her own Mother. Even though Mick wants nothing to do with Katy anymore, after informing her to leave, they eventually enter the Carter's apartment. Katy once again attempts to get inside Mick's head, asking him to keep everything between them a secret, that Frankie shouldn't have to suffer. Only as she's asking Mick these things, unbeknown to them, Shirley has entered the flat is slowly approaching the room they're in, overhearing everything she's saying. Now THIS, THIS is the moment where you realise that Shirley has learned the truth about everything!! She's found out what's been bothering her son for all this time, this is the moment we've all been waiting for! It's when Mick uses the word "Paedophile" to describe Katy which completely grips Shirley! She eventually lets herself be known by slowly walking into the room, both Mick and Katy's faces drop! I think this next moment was absolutely brilliant!!! No speech between them, only Mick pleading for his Mum not to act! Shirley attempts to chase Katy around the kitchen table, but she scarpers down the stairs and out of the front door out onto the Square. Without words and without any hesitation, Shirley follows her like a determined bull chasing it's pray - eyes daggered toward Katy, when she finally catches up to her, she gives her a good ole slap around the face and beats her as she lies in a heap on the floor. I do not condone violence but, YES SHIRLEY!!!!! YES!!!!!! I'm sure every single viewer was applauding her as she was doing this!!! Finally everything that Mick has suffered has come to light and finally Katy can get the comeuppance she deserves! The neighbours on the Square however, witness Shirley's assault on Katy and shout for her to stop. Katy makes her escape as Shirley looks back to her son, as everyone takes themselves inside, Shirley pulls out her phone and decides to report an assault. But who's assault exactly? Hers upon Katy? or Katy's upon Mick?!

Overall a very dramatic episode! A lot of questions which I can't wait to be answered! I'm looking forward to Shirley and Mick having their very important talk now about what he went through whilst in care and what Katy did to him. Plus, how long will it be before they learn the truth about Tina? I'm convinced that Shirley isn't going to let it lie and maybe even start a search for her sister. Will Jean be okay? Will she inform her family about what she's found and could her health be at risk?! I'm looking forward to finding out what happens next! Thank you all so much for reading, it means the absolute world. Please feel free to share any comments or thoughts you may have, I'd love to hear them and I'll always respond! Thank you again folks, I'll be back again very soon! Love you all xXx

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