#owned it/wore it better on a stream when she was living with him in late 2022

[f1nns1deblog]

screenshot from 3/18/23 stream, posted by u/blusau

[themorriganwitch]

Never alone

Summary: Bradley finds you curled up on your living room floor, crying your heart out because your body image issues got the best of you

Trigger Warning: This One Shot contains mentions of self harm, body issues, Eating disorder and extremely overwhelming thought. 

Words: 1,8k

A/N: This one shot means a lot to me, since it evolves around my own experience with body image issues, self harm and ED. If you are struggling with any on these topics, please know that you are valid and loved. If you ever want to talk about these things, feel free to send my a DM

Reblogs and Comments are always dearly appreciated

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Your day actually started pretty good. It was a relaxing Saturday; the sun was shining, and you were able to sleep in since there was no need for a timer. The air was warm but breezy, so you wore your new green sundress, the one Bradley had gifted you last week because he saw it and it made him think of you. Then you headed out to meet Natasha for a late Brunch in the city.

You had an amazing time with your best friend, you laughed till your bellies hurt and talked about her upcoming vacation plans as well as about your bachelorette party next month. After you waved her goodbye when she climbed into her black Jeep, you had decided to make a short detour to your favorite clothing store, wanting to pick up a new set of lingerie to surprise Bradley as soon as he would be home after his day out with his boys.

But as soon as you slipped into the first set you picked out, a dark red one – your fiancées favorite color, and saw yourself in the mirror of the fitting room your entire mood changed.

Did your thighs really look that huge? Have your upper arms always been that wobbly? And your belly- you knew that you had gained some weight since you started your relationship, you just hadn’t notice how much you had gained, at least not until now.

And that’s how you found yourself sitting on the couch in your living room, wearing nothing but some panties and one of Bradley’s old shirts, eyes red and puffy from all the tears that had streamed out. You could not really wrap your head around why you are triggered to such an extent; you barely had any problems with your ED anymore since you went to therapy and worked through your issues related to food and self-perception.

But right now, you just felt like your 19-year-old self again who was lying on the cold bathroom floor crying their heart out while begging the Universe to just make the pain stop. To make you look like anybody else, to simply make that monster inside your brain, who told you to go to bed starving every. single. night. - stop.

Unworthy.

 Unlovable.

 Ugly. 

All those thoughts circulated around your messed up brain, spiraling over and over until you had the feeling that you must die to make this horrendous pain stop.

Against knowing better, you spiraled even further, walking in the kitchen to grab the last chocolate ice cream cub that was left in the refrigerator. Hoping this would help to numb the emotional turmoil that had taken control over your entire body.

About thirty minutes later you found yourself again on the couch, t-shirt covered in brown stains while the tears had started to fall again. Your sobbing became frantically, your stomach was bloated painfully from all the ice cream you ate and now regret.

Trying to cover your emotions with food never worked and now you felt even worse than you did when you came home.

You lie down on the ground next to the couch, forehead pressed onto the cold tiles in the desperating attempt to ground yourself and simply sit this episode out, knowing very well that if this would not work you would go back into the kitchen, grabbing anything sharp you could find and stab your arms hoping the physical pain would over wash the emotional one.

Why did you have to go through this again and again?

Were you really this awful? How could Bradley even love you? You were ugly and obviously mentally unstable. He deserved better. So much better. After everything he had been through, he just deserved someone normal. Someone beautiful. Someone who is stable in themselves and who do not burden him with even more emotional ballast.

The voices in your head and the sobs you still could not managed to hold in were becoming so loud, that you did not notice how your fiancée stepped into your shared living room, a wide smile on the lips which slowly fades as soon as his eyes catch your embrace.

“Honey?”, he asked, trying to keep his voice calm. He slowly made his way to you, trying not to frighten you since it didn’t seem that you had noticed him.

His heart ached at his view: the love of his life curled up on the cold floor, your breath unregular from all the loud sobs escaping your lips. “Honey”, he tried again, this time a little louder.

If he thought the sight in front of him was hurtful a couple of minutes ago, he could feel his heart shatter as soon as you lift your head, eyes red and puffy, tears still running down your redden cheeks.

“I’m so sorry”, you said, voice raspy from what feels like hours of crying. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry”, you repeated yourself all over again, gratefully throwing yourself into Bradley’s strong arms as he sunk next to you on the ground.

“Shhh it’s okay, baby”, he said, rubbing your back in soothing motions as he pressed a loving kiss onto your hair. “I’m so sorry. So so sorry”, you repeated again and again.

After something that felt like hours, Bradley had managed to maneuver the two of you back on the couch, your head pressed in the crook of his neck while your sobs slowly start to fade. Your boyfriend had barely spoken to you, except for the occasional “It’s okay, I am here with you” and “Let it all out, you are safe with me”.

“What happened, baby girl?”, Bradley asked softly, after he made sure you were now calm enough to answer his question.

You cleared your throat, before lifting your head to meet your boyfriend’s beautiful hazel eyes. “I am not sure. I went out with Nat for Brunch and then…”, you went ahead and told him everything about your day and how you ended up on your living room floor.

Bradley sighed sadly. He knew about your body image issues and your Ed, you had told him about it after a couple of months after you had started your relationship. He knew all about your struggles, your nearly manic episodes when your thoughts tend to get the best of you, and you spiral deeper and deeper. “What were you thinking?” he asked, attempting to give you the opportunity to get rid of your overwhelming thoughts.

You closed your eyes, debating with yourself if you should tell him the truth, terrified of the idea he could think you are insane. But then you looked at him and you saw nothing but love and admiration in his eyes and you just knew that if you could not tell Bradley about what was going on, there would never be someone who could understand you.

“I just were in this fitting room, and I felt so ugly. So so ugly. And then I went home, and I just felt so awful, and I did not know what to do and in my head, everything got worse and worse. And then I asked myself why you could ever want me. Like you deserve so much, Bradley. You are the love of my life. You deserve someone stable, someone who does not carry that much baggage with themselves. Someone who is worthy of you love and someone who is”- you were not able to move on, because he cut you off, staring at you wide eyed.

“Hold on. Hold on”, he said, brows furrowed in concern. “Baby, how could you ever think that you are not worthy of me? Please listen carefully, honey. I love you; I love you so much that sometimes it feels like my heart must explode in my chest from all those emotions you make me feel. I know we are not married yet, but when I asked you to share your life with me, I promised you that I will love you always. Endlessly. Unconditionally. And I don’t care if you are not perfect, because no one is Baby. Even though, for me, you are”, he smiled softly at you, cupping your heated cheek with his right hand.

“You are the most beautiful person I ever had the pleasure to meet. No matter if you are all dolled up in sexy red lingerie or in dirty sweatpants and one of my old navy t-shirts. I don’t care if you gained weight, nor do I care if your thighs might look bigger than normal cause our bodies simply fluctuate from time to time. But I do care about how you are feeling about yourself, and if you don’t feel good about yourself, I am here to talk to. Please, for the love of God, please talk to me. We are a team, baby girl. Your problems are my problems, and your enemies are my enemies. And it does not matter if I must get at an actual person or the monster you have in the darkness of your thoughts. I am here to fight with you. And I will always fight for you. Okay?” You nod, again feeling tears swelling in your eyes but now not because of the overwhelming hate you feel for yourself but for the soothing love your fiancée makes you feel. As he always makes you feel. “I’m sorry”, you said. “I should have called you as soon as I knew how this would go down. But I was just so in my thoughts – “.

“No need to apologize”, Bradley interrupted you. “Next time you simply remember what to do. So, what do you think about taking a bath together? Getting you all cleaned up and then we can drink a tea, cuddle up in bed and watch an episode of the office?”

“That sounds great”, you answered smitten. “I love you, Bradley Bradshaw”.

“Not as much as I love you”, he answered before pressing a tender kiss onto your lips.

He heaved his big body from the couch, taking your hand and leading you both down the hallway to your bathroom.

The both of you knew that you would still have some stuff to talk about in the morning, but right now everything that matters were that you had your boyfriend right by you side.

Your boyfriend who just again showed how deeply in love he was with you, and that no matter how much your thoughts try to get the best of you, he would always be by your side to fight the demons inside your brain. With you. Together. Forever.

[writingsforwhatever]

Part 2: Love letters to Matthew (m.s.)

Part 1

Please read the author's note in part 1!

Anyway, enjoy.

Her world seemed to halt as Matt's confession hung in the air. Shock rippled through her, rendering her momentarily speechless. It was a revelation she had never anticipated, and it left her grappling for words.

"Matt," she finally managed to utter, her voice quivering. "I... I don't know what to say."

Matt's gaze remained fixed on her. He wore an expression of vulnerability that was entirely new to her. The weight of his confession bore down on her shoulders, and she could feel her own emotions swelling within her. She had spent years wondering about his feelings, longing for some indication that he shared her sentiments. And now, in this unexpected moment, he had laid bare his heart.

Her voice quivering, with tears already forming in her eyes. "I never knew," she spoke softly, breaking the silence again. "I never knew you felt this way."

The unfairness of the situation overwhelmed her. How could he do this, especially when she had already found a home in another person's arms? It just didn't seem fair. Unfairness and dissatisfaction had always seemed to define her relationship with Matt. It had never been enough.

Seeing him in pain like this, knowing that she had felt the same way for so long, tore at her heart. All those years of hurt, of watching him leave and return, had led up to this very moment. Yet, inexplicably, it still felt like it wasn't enough for either of them.

Matt responded, his tone filled with frustration, "Forget it, it doesn't matter. I'll get over it. I just can't be near you right now; I can't even look at you. It hurts too much. Please, just go."

"Matt, don't do this. Please, just hear me out first." She tried to hold back her emotions, but the tears were already falling. However, he was already on his way to the living room, walking away from her.

He turned around once more, his expression marked by a deep frown. "What could you possibly say? You're going to Europe for two and a half months with Luke! Spare me your pity. I don't need it. Please, leave. Just leave me alone." Matt's words were filled with a mix of pain and exasperation, as he struggled to cope with the situation. Unable to bear the weight of the emotions any longer, she ran past him and out of the house, tears streaming down her face. Matt heard the front door slam shut, and he could hear Chris and Nick calling her name.

~

Europe was different from any place she'd ever been, olive groves stretched out before her, their silvery leaves shimmering in the sunlight. The gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers, adding to the idyllic atmosphere yet her thoughts often wander off to the boy who was thousands of miles away from her.

Matthew is in love with her. This in fact didn't make things better as much as she thought it would. For years, she had secretly yearned to hear those three little words spill from his lips, believing that it would bring clarity, but it only added a layer of complexity to their relationship.

Matt’s confession had been long-awaited, but she couldn't help but think and feel that distance and time had definitely changed things; he lived on one coast, she was in college meeting new people on the other. No matter how hard she tried, he was drifting away. His love arrived too late. Matt needed to accept this, just as she had quietly done over the years.

She has Luke now. Luke, who loves and cares for her deeply. Their love is quiet and simple but it's sure. Unlike her relationship with Matt, which always felt intricately complicated, Luke's love was a beacon of simplicity and warmth.

The night Matt confessed his feelings, she cried under her covers while Luke, slept soundly beside her, oblivious to the emotional storm that had raged within her. It wasn't how she imagined their friendship would end, but it was inevitable.

Someone always gets hurt.

She knows this.

And it's both of them.

When Luke asked about the stains on her cheeks when she got home, she brushed him off, saying she was emotional about leaving her parents and friends for a few months. As they landed in New York, Luke remained unaware of her hidden sadness and when the plane took off for France, Luke held her hand firmly. Below them, the vibrant city lights of New York City shone brightly, yet her thoughts remained to the boy back in Boston.

She watched Luke's friends, Fiona and Andrew, their laughter echoing in the warm air. The warmth of the sun making everyone's cheeks pink, but her mind was still elsewhere. His words that day lingered like shadows in the sun's gentle glow, reminding her that their friendship could end for good.

"Are you okay?" Luke asked, taking a seat beside her with a freshly made mango shake in hand.

She offered a small smile in response. "Yeah, just feeling a bit homesick. I can't wait to get back home."

Luke returned her smile. "I get it. Home is home, but I'll miss this place for sure. Italy is amazing."

"It really is," she said, her eyes drifting over the scenery in front of them.

Luke shifted the conversation. "Have you talked to your parents yet?"

She nodded. "Yeah, they're doing well. My dad mentioned that Haley has a crush on our neighbor, Josh," she shared, rolling her eyes playfully and letting out a chuckle.

Luke almost choked on his drink, chuckling too. "Oh boy, Josh better watch out."

She nodded, acknowledging that her little sister could be quite a handful at times, but she loved her, nonetheless.

Luke's curiosity turned to her friends. "What about your friends? Chris and his brothers? How are they?"

Her thoughts briefly wandered to a recent text from Alahna. "Alahna visited them in L.A. 2 days ago."

Luke, unaware of her feelings of not wanting to talk about them, continued the conversation. "Nice. How are they?"

"Who?" she asked, momentarily confused, her gaze shifting to the side.

"Chris, Nick, and Matt?" Luke clarified, his eyes lingering on her profile to gauge her reactions. "And Alahna?"

"They're doing great," she replied. "Alahna mentioned they're planning to take her to Beverly Hills before she heads back to Boston."

Luke nodded in understanding. Sensing her desire to change the subject. "You want to swim later?"

Her eyes lit up with excitement as she replied, "Absolutely! Let's do it." Grateful for the subject change she pushed the Matt thoughts in the back of her head.

~

"You suck at cooking eggs, Alahna." Chris teased, a playful tone in his voice. It was the first week of September 2023, and the late morning sunlight of Los Angeles shone through the kitchen, making the room bright and warm.

"It's not my fault that you scared me. I thought you'd be up later." Alahna defended, grinning.

"I couldn't sleep anymore; you woke me up with all your ruckus here." Chris said lightheartedly. "I'm surprised you didn't wake up Matt over there."

Alahna set up the plates for her and Chris, the newly cooked eggs now a little bit saggy and one slightly burnt. "You know he was up all night?" she whispered, a hint of concern in her voice.

"He was?" Chris asked, sitting down.

"Yeah, I came downstairs to grab a glass of water, and apparently, he saw Luke's post on Snapchat."

"How did you know?"

"He was sitting here. I could see his phone. I recognized that picture because I saw it too just minutes before."

"The... him and?" Chris trailed off, understanding dawning on him. It was a photo of Luke and her kissing at the pool. A sweet, innocent kiss, but it was enough to shatter Matt's heart into pieces.

Alahna sat down and looked Chris in the eyes. "Chris, I forgot to tell you, but remember the time Matt had a girlfriend?"

Chris's eyes locked onto Alahna's, urging her to continue. He remembered those days with the girl from Florida.

"Well, about a month after, I think? I forgot exactly when. It was a long time ago. But Chloe and I met with her, and she admitted that she has been in love with Matt for years. We told her we already knew—" Alahna chuckled, and Chris nodded in agreement.

"What?" Matt's voice echoed from the wall beside his bedroom doorway, leaving Chris and Alahna exchanging shocked expressions.

Matt's voice hung in the air. "Matt," Chris began cautiously, stepping closer to him, "we didn't mean for you to hear that. It's just that Alahna and I were talking, and..."

Matt interrupted, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and pain, "She said that?"

Alahna nodded solemnly, her concern deepening. "Yes, Matt."

Matt's expression tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "How long have you known, Chris?"

Chris sighed sadly, choosing his words carefully. "She didn't admit it to me, but I've always known, you know? Bro, anyone could see it in her face. She's always been about you. For years."

Matt turned away; frustration evident as he ran his hand through his messy hair while he processed what he had just heard. "I can't believe this… I was so blind, and now it's too late," he muttered.

Alahna stood up and walked over to Matt, her voice gentle. "Matt, I'm really sorry you had to find out this way. It wasn't our place to tell you because we know how much it would mean coming from her. She loves you a lot. I hope you know that."

Matt stayed quiet for a moment, lost in thought. It all started to make sense now—the times she turned away or seemed distant when he had a girlfriend back in 9th grade, the fake smiles she wore when he talked about his high school crushes. He felt incredibly stupid, realizing that Nick had been right all along. He was beginning to think he was the most oblivious person on the planet, especially remembering how she had gotten sad when he didn't mention having a girlfriend from Florida. He had misinterpreted her feelings as mere sensitivity.

She had been in love with him for years, and he had been too oblivious to see it. And now, she's with someone else.

"What are you gonna do?" Chris asked, his eyes filled with sympathy as he observed his brother processing the revelation.

Matt sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. "I don't know, Chris," he admitted, uncertainty clouding his thoughts.

"He's not going to do anything, Chris," Nick chimed in, his voice carrying the grogginess of just waking up. His tousled hair and half-asleep appearance drew everyone's attention.

"Nick," Alahna cautioned, her tone barely above a whisper.

Nick shrugged, unfiltered as ever. "What? Matt had his chance, and he missed it. She's happy now. Why would he want to ruin that for her?" he bluntly stated, embodying the frank and opinionated brother he had always been.

Chris, torn between his desire to see them together and the undeniable truth in Nick's words, couldn't help but nod in agreement. Matt had indeed let his opportunity slip away long ago, and now he had to face the consequences of it.

Matt sat down and lowered his head, absorbing his brother's words like a heavy truth he couldn't deny. The weight of missed chances and regret hung in the air.

Alahna exchanged a meaningful glance with Nick, understanding his perspective, even if it stung.

As the morning light crept into the room, the silence continued.

Nick sighed deeply, closing his eyes as to calm himself. This time he spoke with gentleness in his tone, "Look, Matt. I'm not trying to be negative or anything... But I've seen her get hurt over and over again by you. I just- She's with Luke. It would be unfair."

Nick’s straightforwardness, as abrasive as it might have sounded, held an undeniable truth. He was the voice of reason in the room. His message was clear: it would not be fair to all of them.

Matt grumbled, his hands pressing against his forehead in frustration. "I had no idea she loved me, Nick," he admitted with frustration.

Nick looked at him with a sad expression. "We know, and funnily, even your ex could see it," he said softly.

Matt let out a deep sigh remembering the fight he and his ex-girlfriend had when he admitted that he kissed his best friend. "If she's happy, then I'm happy. It's okay. I'll be okay." He stood up, trying to put on a brave face.

The three of them shared knowing looks, aware of the emotions in the room. Chris decided to bring up a painful topic. "Matt, you also need to apologize for what happened back home when you told her to leave."

Matt's cheerful demeanor faltered briefly. "I'll apologize when she gets back from Europe," he replied, not wanting to dwell on the day she had left his house, when he had wanted to chase after her but didn't. He had spent nights crying and regretting what he did, ignoring Chris and Nick's knocks on his door.

As Matt walked toward his room, he added, "I'm going to be okay. Trust me."

Understanding that Matt was only lying to himself, they let it go.

‘Be there in 10 😊 see ya’

She looked at Matt’s text for a few seconds before sighing, a heavy sadness enveloping her. It's the first day of Senior year the final chapter of high school, and here she was, trying to mend her broken heart.

"Are you okay, honey?" Her mother's green eyes full of concern. Beside her mom is Haley's school clothes all folded neatly ready to be worn.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Just not feeling like going to school, that's all," she replied, her gaze fixed on her worn-out Converse.

"Why? Talk to me about it," her mother urged, taking a seat beside her. "Is it about your subjects? Your teachers?"

She sighed again, glancing at the time on her phone. "It's Matt."

Her mother furrowed her eyebrows, clearly lost and confused. "Matt? Did you guys have a fight?"

Since when had Matthew upset her daughter?

"No, Mom. We didn't fight," she replied, impatient. She kept looking out the window, feeling nervous.

"Then why..."

"It's just..." She paused, aware of the curious looks her mom is giving her. "He has a girlfriend, Emily, and she's been with us all summer. He said it's not serious, but I don't know. I don't know why I'm feeling like this." Her shoulders slumped at the little confession, but her mother knew.

Matt was a constant presence in her daughter's life, just as much as his own brothers. They grew up together, celebrated Christmases, birthdays, Thanksgiving, and Halloween — every occasion imaginable.

Her mother, Elizabeth always had a hunch, but she believed they were probably too young to comprehend or understand.

As for Matt, he was bound to break a few hearts, even though Elizabeth hoped her daughter wouldn't be one of them, yet she understood that it was inevitable. Her daughter and the blue-eyed boy were as thick as thieves. They were inseparable. And so now that she has confessed without really saying it, she knew.

And she just hopes the fall wouldn't be too high and prays that she'll find the strength to weather the heartbreak that comes with it.

"Why? What are you feeling?" She asked gently, hoping but not pushing her to open up.

"I don't know. I'm confused and I'm hurt. I'm hurt that he has a girlfriend," she said with a sad smile.

Bingo.

"Oh, honey." Elizabeth enveloped her into a hug, soothingly rubbing her back. "How long have you been feeling this way?"

"Months."

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"Of course not," she replied, standing up and shaking her head. "I'd never. He's going to want to not be friends with me, Mom. I know Matt."

"If it's bothering you so much, just try. I'm sure he'll understand, sweetheart." Her mom stood up too, trying to catch her eyes. "This is Matt we're talking about, aren't we? He cares about you. He'll unders-"

"No, no way!" She argued, already walking towards the front door. "Just forget I said this, mom. I'll get over it."

Elizabeth could only watch her daughter walk away before she could say goodbye, anxiously waiting for the familiar car that had been arriving at their house like clockwork ever since Matt had learned to drive.

Chris runs down the stairs at 7 am in the morning. "Matt, let's go we're gonna be late."

Nick was already in the car, grumbling. "What took you so long? And who are you texting?"

Matt rolled his eyes, inserting the key into the ignition and starting the car. "Can you shut your mouth Nick? It's too early for you to be talking this loud."

It was clear that Matt's feeling anxious by going back to school again. People just never made sense to him, especially people from high school. He hated it. Hated them.

As they made a stop to pick up Alahna and Emily, the road is still slightly damp from last night's rain. Gradually, a sense of realization began to dawn upon Matt - It was their finaly year in high school, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for it.

Meanwhile, she watched as Matt's car approached her driveway. She couldn't deny the sinking feeling in her chest as she saw Emily sitting in the back with Alahna. Of course, she's here. As the car pulled up, she took a deep breath and mirrored Nick's cheerful laughing smile and mood.

"Hey youuuu." Nick teased as she climbed to sit beside him. "Missed you."

"You literally just saw me last week, Nick." She chuckled, glancing at Matt from the corner of her eyes, not fully acknowledging him. "Hi Chris."

"Hi bestie, long time no see." Chris turned his whole body to look and flash a playful smile at her.

"Shut up."

She exchanged waves with Emily and Alahna. From the driver's seat, Matt felt a sense of confusion wash over him. He couldn't help but wonder why she didn't even greet him.

In November 2023, she saw Matthew again.

When Chris mentioned that they were coming home back in October, she remained resolute in her decision to remain confined within her school dorm. She didn't want to meet them and see Matt. Just the thought of last June, when he confessed his love right before she left for Europe with Luke, still haunted her.

She sometimes wonders if he did it because he was being mean, or he just doesn't want to see her happy. Cause why now? Why now that she has already found someone that truly loves her?

He was unfair, she thought. The bad timing of his love just broke her heart over again.

The kiss last year, Matt's girlfriend and now this - It was all cruel and she couldn't endure it any longer, especially when she has spent her entire life loving him. She deserved to be happy.

And so, she ignored their texts. She knew she was being a bad friend by not replying. Matt made several attempts to reach out, offering apologies in the weeks following her return from Italy, but she ignored them still. They stopped eventually and she couldn't deny, it made her a little sad.

Her plan to distance herself from Matt and anyone connected to him was successful until Thanksgiving in November arrived.

In all her mother's holiday spirit, Elizabeth had extended yet another invitation to the boys' family for the upcoming occasion after seeing Marylou at the grocery store two weeks ago. This had been their tradition for years as family friends and Elizabeth was completely oblivious to the inner turmoil her daughter had been wrestling within for months.

However, everything changed when she heard Nick's familiar laughter emanating from downstairs, causing her to freeze in her tracks, despite being already halfway down the staircase. She stood there, frozen, her eyes locked with the boy she had painstakingly avoided for the past few months. Matt held her gaze and for a moment, it was like they're the only people in the room. 

One thing stood out - Matt looked different and she couldn't help but notice it. He was clad in a blue flannel shirt and jeans, a combination that remarkably complemented his features. It seemed almost impossible, but the outfit made his blue eyes even bluer. On that chilly Thanksgiving night in Boston, Matthew Sturniolo appeared almost angelic, emitting an air of maturity that was a far cry from the Matt she remembered from their high school days. The years had been kind to him, and her heart ached with the realization of just how much she had missed him even though it had only been a few months. She realized that, deep down, she still cared about him, and it will never change. Matt will always have place in her heart that he owns.

Walking down the stairs, she couldn't help but feel like a girl going to prom, with her date waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Only, in this case, her date was a handsome, blue-eyed boy wearing a pair of New Balance sneakers.

The room’s silence was broken only by the soft murmur of the exchanged how are yous and the pounding of her heart. Chris, ever the mediator, exchanged a quick glance with Nick, and then he cleared his throat, attempting to ease the tension in the room.

She took a deep breath and smiled when he was inches away from her, she couldn’t help but think that this Thanksgiving might be different from all the others, and it had nothing to do with the Roast Chicken with Maple Butter on the table and Chris’s smirk.

As everyone in the room felt the awkwardness, they all retreated to the cozy living room, leaving her and Matt alone. Nick and Chris gave her comforting hugs before following their own parents, Nick shot her a look that said, "We'll discuss this later," while Chris wore a sly grin that she couldn't resist rolling her eyes at. Oh, how she missed them terribly.

Finally, Matt broke the silence, keeping a safe distance from her. "Hi," he said, his voice carrying a mixture of longing and regret, "It's been too long."

Her throat felt dry, but she managed a small smile in return. "Yeah, it has," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "You look... good."

She couldn’t believe that after all this time, Matt still had that effect on her.

Matt chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving her face. "I could say the same about you," he said, his gaze softening. "Different but still the same you I knew."

The silence after Matt spoke hung in the air, both of them seemingly lost. The other room beside them remained hushed, everyone subtly listening to their conversation.

Before she could respond, Matt cleared his throat, mentally scolding himself for making her uncomfortable with his feelings. "How was Europe?"

"Europe was incredible," she replied, briefly breaking eye contact with him. "It was beautiful."

"I'm sure it was," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

The way he said it, so softly, made her glance up at him again only to find him looking at her still. Matt smiled, a hint of resignation in his expression as he nodded and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. It was now his turn to break eye contact. "I'm sure it was," he repeated, the realization dawning on her.

Europe. Matt. Their plan. She cringed.

Just as she was about to say something again, Chris interrupted, his voice carrying a teasing tone, “Hey, you two, hate to break up the reunion, but dinner’s ready.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. “Alright, Chris, we’re coming,” she replied, grateful for the interruption.

Matt shot his brother a knowing look and smiled.

After the lively dinner, with Matt and Chris by her side, making jokes about missing each other, and her dad sharing a funny memory, the tension faded away quickly and like always, the usual routine after such gatherings – they all gathered in the living room to play different board games. She glanced around, seeing Nick and Justin on the other side of the room. Meanwhile, Chris was engrossed in conversation with both her dad and his, laughter filled the room.

However, even amid the happy ambiance, a sad thought worked its way to her mind – how much longer would these gatherings remain a constant in their lives? They were like a lifeline to her memories of childhood. She could come to terms with not ending up with Matt but the notion that this might never happen again bothered her.

Nick's voice abruptly pulled her from her thoughts. "Matt wants to talk to you," he whispered.

"Huh? Where is he?" She scanned the room, her confusion growing.

Nick couldn't help but chuckle at her bewildered state as he patted her shoulder. "You're zoning out, girl."

"I'm sorry. Where is he, Nick?"

"He's in the car, waiting for you," Nick pointed at the front door.

"What? Why? Is he crazy? It's freezing out!" She hurriedly searched for her coat from the other room, ready to rush out, but Nick stopped her before she could leave. "Just talk to Matt, okay? Sort things out. Be patient with him. You mean a lot to him, and I know you still care. If I'm really wrong and you're not into him anymore, please, just let him down gently."

Speechless, her throat went dry. In the background, she could hear their families talking, soft chatters filling the room with warmth. She met Nick's eyes once more, nodding in understanding. "I love him, Nick."

This time, it was her response that made Nick hug her. "I know."

He eventually released her, "Just be honest with Matt, he can take it."

"And be honest with yourself." Nick added, his gaze gentle but knowing.

It was clear that Nick could see thru her facade. She had never stopped loving Matt, and she couldn't even imagine the day she won't. With a final glance to her friend she had known her whole life, she stepped outside, finding Matt in his phone as he sat inside the car.

"Matthew Bernard Sturniolo, I swear to God, I'm going to kill you," she exclaimed, her voice echoing through the house. Her furious footsteps reverberated as she chased Matt around, her sock-clad feet making a soft padding sound against the wooden floor. She could already sense Nick's growing frustration and annoyance about what could be causing this commotion on a quiet afternoon.

As she watched Matt's mop of brown hair rushing down the stairs, she couldn't help but burst into laughter at how silly he looked. She knew she couldn't compete with Matt's long strides.

"Matt, I'm dead serious," she called out, following him to the kitchen and towards his brother's room. However, it was too late; he was already halfway to Nick's, his laughter filling the room as he locked the door behind him.

"What the fuck is going on?" Nick stood up, clearly taken aback by the noise. He walked towards his door to unlock it, allowing her to come in.

It had been a warm Saturday afternoon when Matt had invited her to hang out at his house. The day had started off peacefully, with the two of them lying on his bed but then Matt had snatched her phone from her hand after noticing she had been on Snapchat for 10 minutes, giggling.

"Seriously, Matt, this isn't funny. Give me my phone!" Her voice pleading.

Matt chuckled, raising his hand to signal "wait" when Nick made an attempt to snatch the phone from his grasp. His eyes darted over the Snapchat conversation at lightning speed, a glint of mischief in his eyes when he glanced back at her.

"Come on, Matt, give her the phone back," Nick groaned, evidently tired. "What are you even looking at?"

"She has a crush on that football guy, Daniel," Matt chuckled again.

"The senior?" Nick asked, an amused and surprised expression forming as he turned to look at her.

She protested, "No, I don't!" Taking a step closer to Matt, she added, "Give it back, Matt!"

"Just a sec," he hushed her once more, retreating against the wall, eyes fixed on her phone screen. He finally looked back at her, his smile fading. "He asked you out to Homecoming?"

Nick smirked at her. "He did? Oh my goodness."

She sighed, embarrassment washing over her. "Well, I'm not even sure if I'm going."

"Why not? Daniel Thompson is hot." Nick replied.

She blushed, her face turning hot. Once again, Matt shifted his attention from the phone to her, locking eyes with her. He held her gaze and with a shrug, tossed her phone onto Nick's bed. "He's a jerk."

With a groan, she reached for her phone. "Ugh. I hate you so much."

She walked out of the room, leaving the two of them behind.

Matt swiftly followed her to the living room and back upstairs to his room, where they had been hanging out just five minutes earlier. "You never told me you'd been talking to him."

Rolling her eyes, she started going up the stairs. Her back to him. "I don't have to tell you everything, you know."

"So what? Are you guys a thing now?" Matt asked, his brows furrowed. A subtle hint of jealousy in his expression.

She continued walking towards his room, yearning for the comfort of his bed. Ready to be swallowed whole by his comforters. "No, we're not."

With a frown, she turned to face him. "God, you're so annoying, Matt. Why do you care? And he's not a jerk, for your information. You don't even know him."

Upon arriving in Matt's room, he closed the door and watched her climb back into his bed, grabbing her phone. With a dismissive roll of his eyes, he joined her on the bed. "Yes, he is. Oh my God. Did you not hear what he did to Stacy Martin last year?"

"They'd broken up when he did that."

"Whatever, I'm just saying he's not a good guy," he frowned, his eyes fixed on her face.

"What's your issue with Daniel? Can't I have a date? He's the only one who asked me out, you know," she stated matter-of-factly, sounding a bit sad. Matt could see her turn away from him, wounded by her own confession.

"Are you kidding me? I'm sure someone else would. Just not Daniel fucking Thompson, jesus," Matt muttered. He knew he was being unreasonably harsh, but he couldn't fathom why she chose Daniel Thompson as her date. Of all people!

"Enough, Matt. You don't know anything."

"I don't know anything? You don't even know he threw his chips at me in 3rd grade!"

"Oh my God. So this is about what happened in 3rd grade? You guys were 8 years old! Holy crap," she stood up, leaving. "I'm going to Nick's room. You're so annoying."

Matt was left momentarily speechless as he watched her walked out of the room. "I'm just trying to look out for you," he called after her.

Turning around to face him, arms crossed. "You don't have to. I can handle it myself."

"You're my best friend, I just care about you." Matt whispered.

Feeling her heart break at his words, she replied, "If I'm your best friend, then why did you ask Nicole out?"

Matt groaned, pinching his forehead in frustration. "It's not the same. Nicole is different."

A heavy silence enveloped them. She regretted opening this can of worms. Matt had no idea how deeply it had hurt her when she found out that he asked this girl out for homecoming. He could ask anyone, doesn’t matter if it’s not her, just not Nicole, but he still did.

"She hates me, Matt," she shot back, a mixture of anger and frustration on her face.

"No, she doesn't!" Matt whispered loudly, his eyes pleading as he defended.

"Fuck you. I'm leaving."

Matt watched her rush down the stairs, slamming his front door. He sighed, running his hands through his hair. Chris came out of his own room, hearing everything.

"Is your girlfriend mad at you again?" he teased.

"Shut up, Chris."

"I told you, Matt. She likes you."

"Shut the fuck up, Chris!”

Meanwhile, Nick watched the exchange from the sidelines, a knowing smile playing on his lips. As the door closed behind Matt, he couldn't help but think that perhaps there was more to their friendship than meets the eye. But he decided to keep that to himself for now and let them figure it out on their own.

As she walked down her steps, thoughts of Luke consumed her. Luke, who was now her ex-boyfriend, remained blissfully oblivious of the ongoing chaos, primarily centered around her and Matt.

When she was about to open the passenger door, she found Matt already extending his arms to open it for her.

"Hey."

"Hi," she replied offering a small smile as she settled into her seat. She watched Matt attentively as he took a moment to collect himself, fully aware that this night could either make or break her. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah," Matt whispered, nodding. His fingers restlessly fidgeting.

She nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"I wanted to apologize for last time. What I did was uncalled for. I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I'm truly, deeply sorry."

"Matt—"

"Let me finish because if I don't say this now, I'll never get the chance to say it again," he cut her off, lowering his gaze to his knuckles. Slowly, he turned to face her entirely, and she couldn't help but notice the scent of his shampoo and the faint flush on his cheeks and lips from the cold.

"I'm sure you already know where I'm going with this, right?" He asked, his eyes locking onto hers through his lashes. She didn't know if it was the way he's looking at her or the nervous fidgeting of his fingers, but she swore her heart never beat this fast.

"Listen, it all came crashing down on me. All those years of stalling, all this denial. It's like my eyes were closed and when I opened it, you're all I could see. God, this is so weird, but I love you, okay?" Matt rambled and took a deep breath. "You're my best friend and I'm in love with you. How crazy is that? I thought that only happens in movies."

"Matt—"

"And I hate myself for it. I swear I'm not saying this because I'm expecting you to feel the same way. I'll get over this, alright? Just give me time."

"Matt—"

"...because I can't lose you. You mean so much to me. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself—"

She replied with an eye roll, her fingers clutching the collar of his flannel shirt. At that very moment, it was as though the entire world had faded away,

The kiss was a culmination of all the pent-up longing they had held onto. For Matt, this moment had been a year in the making since that unforgettable night in L.A. The soft pressure of their lips meeting perfectly is making her go crazy. He was initially taken aback, but his hands instinctively found their place on her neck. His fingers caressing her cheeks, making her stomach tingly from the warm she's feeling all over her body. She had to break the kiss off to breathe, but Matt pulled her back. "The second time's even better," he whispered to himself causing her to blush.

Matthew Sturniolo, in his awkward nature, didn't know why he was so natural at kissing her and how easy it felt. The kiss was tender and heated, leaving them both breathless. She rested her right hand on his shoulder, feeling the soft fabric of his shirt.

And then, as if Matt couldn't make her melt any further, he spoke in the softest, most loving voice she had ever heard from him. "Come closer.”

Matt traced her bottom lip, eyes never leaving her parted lips. “You have no idea how much I love you. I’m sorry if I made it seem like I regret kissing you last year because I don’t.”

He kissed her once more, this time with a slow, gentle tenderness that made her feel like she might dissolve into a puddle from the softness of it. “I could never.”

“You’re driving me crazy, Matthew,” she murmured foolishly, her mouth still entwined with his.

With a gentle chuckle, he broke off their kiss and locked his gaze onto her, making her feel a bit shy. "So does this mean you feel the same..."

"Oh my god, Matt." She shook her head, smiling. "I've been waiting for you to say these things since high school."

"Wait, what?"

“You really think I’m not head over heels in love with your dumb fucking ass?” She playfully rolled her eyes, enjoying his reactions.

“Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that?”

"Matt, first of all, you're incredibly dense and second, even your grandma knows it."

He sighed, remembering the times he had talked with his brothers, even his mom. "Even grammie?!"

She groaned, covering her face. "Maaatttt," she muttered.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Matt smiled softly, his cheeks matching the blush that was forming on her face. He reached for her hands, intertwining his fingers with her. "For everything. I was so blind..."

Before he could continue, she interrupted him with another kiss, and just as it was about to deepen, she pulled away, whispering and giggling, "Took you long enough."

Matt was the first one through the door, leading the way with her hand tightly held in his. A heartwarming scene unfolded before them as their entire family stood there, all sharing knowing smiles, and watching in hushed anticipation. It was Matt's father who couldn't contain himself any longer and yelled, "Finally!" which was met with a chorus of cheers and clapping.

Chris approached them first with open arms, enveloping Matt in a bear hug and then her, a big grin on his face as he playfully teased, "Fucking finally."

"It's about time!" Her dad chimed in with a whistle. "Woohoo! I knew it!"

Her cheeks turned a shade of pink, and she buried her face in Matt's arms, muttering. "Oh my god, dad."

"aww" and "finally" echoed around them making the atmosphere more joyful than ever.

As Matt held her close, she couldn't help but think about the letters she'd show him later.

On that cold November night in 2023, Matthew Sturniolo officially became hers.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Only the Strong Survive Chapter 2

Series Summary: Lexie Weston is in a terrible, abusive marriage. In her mind and soul, she feels like she has no way out that won't result in her death. But something changes in her life to make her take the risk. Can she rely on Sheriff Beau Arlen to protect her like he said he would, or will this risk lead to ruin?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N (eventual)

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut, Angst, Fluff throughout. A pretty slow burn, TW: Abusive marriage, Domestic abuse will be talked about throughout. Chapter warnings will be more specific

Word Count: 2,768

Chapter Summary: Lexie learns news that makes it imperative that she call the Sheriff and finally seek safety.

Chapter Warnings: TW: Domestic abuse mentioned, fear and anxiety due to abuse talked about throughout the chapter. Angst, sadness, abusive and demeaning language and behavior. Also Beau being the best and sweetest. That's definitely a warning!

A/N: So this will be my first Beau series. I already have 8,000 series on the go, so I thought, of course, that I had to make 8001. 😄 But this idea's been sitting in my head for a while so here it is. 😁 I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know if you do. Feedback is EVERYTHING to a writer, and I'd sure love to read what you thought.

Hope you enjoy Ch. 2!

The beautiful divider at the bottom was created by @firefly-graphics

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Breathe, you idiot, breathe!

Lexi Weston took her own good advice, and sucked in a deep breath. And then another...

...and another...

...until she lost the dizzy feeling that had begun when she looked at the stick in her hands.

The little pink plus sign had been revealed after a 3 minute wait, tearing away the last of the denial she'd been living in for the past three days. Three days ago, she’d realized she was late, and the only other time she’d been late was two years ago - the last time the stick had turned pink.

When she realized she was late again, the fear had set in, and she’d spent three days denying it, telling herself it was just because she was getting older; she was thirty six, after all, it wouldn’t be impossible for her periods to start getting a bit irregular as she aged. So, she’d pushed the fear out of the way, sure that any day now, her period would start and she could breathe a sigh of relief.

But as the days wore on and there was no sign of her period, she began to do the math and realized that the timing lined up perfectly. It exactly matched the only time in the last six or seven months that Simon had come home, late as always, but for once, not too drunk to fumble at her in the dark, climbing on top of her, thrusting pathetically and coming in record time. Not that she ever complained about his speed. The faster he was done, the better.

Staring at the stick now, she could no longer deny that his drunken orgasm that night had resulted in a baby. She clutched the stick tightly, not sure what her next move should be. 

Burn the stick, fool! Don’t let him see it! Her mind chanted at her.

The thought jolted her body into action and she ran to the woodstove in the kitchen. It burned all the time now, since the electricity had been cut off. Simon claimed he’d done it on purpose because he didn’t want to give his money away to government and corporate people who just wanted to control them. But Lexi knew he just never paid the bill.

So, the woodstove was how she cooked them dinner, and all they had to heat up the tiny cabin. She started to stoke the fire, ready to toss in the evidence, but then she paused.

Right now Simon was outside, ostensibly fishing for their dinner in the nearby stream, but she knew he was just drinking and would very likely come home with nothing. Her fear was that burning plastic often gave off a strange smell, and she didn’t want to take the risk of him coming in just as she was burning it, asking about the smell.

So, instead, she ran quickly to their tiny bedroom in the small, three room cabin where they lived. Her husband had built the thing himself, or so he’d told her. But she highly suspected that “building it himself” meant he and his buddies got drunk and played with power tools.

The cabin wasn’t insulated at all and quite often the wind whistled in through the chinks in the walls. The walls also weren’t straight and two of the “windows” were just cut out holes with tarps covering them. The floor was just sheets of plywood that Simon constantly said he’d finish, but never did.

Before they were married in Missouri, he’d told her that his parents had left him a plot of land in Montana and that he’d built a “homey and beautiful” cabin on it. So when they’d come to live here, leaving behind her few friends and what little family she had left, she’d been expecting to start a whole new, exciting life with her industrious husband. He'd told her he was a carpenter and made a decent living in the trade.

That had been one of his first lies. A lie which she’d begun to suspect when she saw the cabin for the first time; she’d been shocked at the shabby, unfinished appearance of her new home.  That was back, early in their relationship, when he still had the power to shock her, but nowadays nothing he did surprised her. Every harsh word, every lie, every bruising smack with the back of his hand, was expected.

She also knew just what would happen if she told him she was pregnant - exactly what had happened last time, which was why she couldn’t tell him. And why she needed to hide the pregnancy test away until she figured out what to do.

There was a small square of plywood in the corner of their bedroom floor, separated from the rest, a piece that had obviously been shoved in place to fill a hole, but it had never been nailed down, so Lexi could lift it up and hide things inside. 

What she chose to hide was an old shoe box with keepsakes she’d collected, things she couldn’t bear to toss into the woodstove, but that she also never wanted Simon to find.

These keepsakes included a ticket stub from a movie she’d snuck into town to see one weekend when Simon went away fishing with his buddies; a pressed flower she’d bought herself one time at the grocery store; a sonogram, and now a white stick with a pink plus sign.

As she set the stick inside she noticed the white business card with black lettering that she’d stuck inside the box about six weeks ago, and as though a puzzle piece suddenly slid into place, she knew exactly what to do.

But she didn’t know if she could actually go through with it. The idea of doing it made her heart beat out of her chest and made her feel like she was going to be sick.

Looking at the card, the Sheriff’s incredibly handsome face swam into her mind’s eye once again, as it had quite often since the day he’d offered her his help. This time though, his deep voice and the words he’d used to try and persuade her, came too.

“I’ll keep you safe, Lexi, I swear.”

Could he really? Was it possible?

It didn’t feel like it was. Simon had told her repeatedly that if she ever tried to leave him, he’d kill her and she knew it wasn’t hyperbole, he wasn’t exaggerating. If she stood up, he’d knock her back down, if she wounded his pride and made him look like a fool by walking out on him, he’d end her.

But this wasn’t just about her anymore. She looked down at the Sheriff’s card, and put her hand over her still flat, somewhat emaciated stomach. She couldn’t let him do it again.

***

Her chance to call the Sheriff came much sooner than she’d expected. Just two days later, Simon was up early, which was incredibly rare and usually meant he’d found a cash job for the day.

As she set his coffee in front of him, Lexi felt her stomach clench in anticipation.

“So, do you have a job this morning?” she asked.

Simon barely looked up from his phone. “No, I’m awake at seven in the morning for my fucking health.”

She nodded. “What’s the job?”

That made him look at her finally, disgust radiating from him. “Why are you fucking nagging at me?”

“Sorry.” Lexi said quickly. “I didn’t mean to nag. I was just curious.”

Frowning, Simon went back to scrolling his phone. “Yeah, well you know what curiosity did to the cat, so save your questions.”

Lexi was quiet another ten minutes, only speaking again as Simon stood to get his coat. “Are you working with Dixon?”

“Yep” was his only response.

“So, when do you think you’ll be home?”

He turned back to her and yanked her forward with a death grip on her upper arm. “Why are you asking me all these questions?” He was immediately suspicious, but Lexi had known that would be his likely reaction, so she was prepared.

“I’m sorry, I was just trying to surprise you. I wanted to make some chicken and dumplings for you this evening, I know it's your favorite and you're up so early and working so hard for us, so I wanted to do something nice for you. And I was was just wondering what time to start it."

Simon’s frown eased and he let go of her arm. “Well, I never know when I’m working with Dixon do I? Cause I don’t know the job till I get there. So, I can’t very well tell you what time I’m off, when I don’t know yet myself. Can I?”

Lexi just shook her head.

He gave her a patronizing smile and a pat on the cheek. “We know you aren’t what they’d call bright, but for god’s sake, use a little common sense. Save me answering these stupid fucking questions and making me late.”

With that he sailed out the door, and a few minutes later she heard his truck start up and pull out of the gravel drive. She waited a full thirty minutes to make sure he wasn’t gonna circle back to grab something he forgot, before running to the box and pulling out the Sheriff’s card.

She sat on her knees on the floor in the corner for another twenty minutes, knowing that if she did this there would be no going back. Simon checked her little burner phone every night, and he knew exactly how many minutes she had left on her prepaid phone card, and if there were minutes unaccounted for, he’d demand an explanation. She’d learned the hard way to ask for permission before making calls.

She was beyond terrified, but she knew she had to try. She couldn’t let him do it again.

***

"Okay, so we're agreed then, it's Legends of the Fall  tonight?" Jenny asked, as Beau ambled back into his office, apparently having decided with Cassie, what their movie was going to be for this Friday night.

"Uh, excuse me, you guys have picked the movie the last two times by ganging up and ‘out-voting’ me, which means that the last two weeks I’ve had to sit through two Brad Pitt movies, I am NOT sitting through a third!”

Jenny scoffed. “The movies were Fight Club and Snatch, and you loved both of them, don’t deny it.”

Beau opened his mouth to do just that, but then crossed his arms over his chest, legs in a wide stance. “Fine, those ones were….good.” Catching the girls’ expressions, he conceded. “Okay! They were great. But, I know Legends of the Fall is some kind of epic, frilly lace, historical romance movie.”

Cassie chuckled. “Hey, the whole thing is set in Montana, it’s practically required viewing for folks around here!”

Jenny snorted. “Yeah, even though a bunch of it was filmed in Canada.”

Cassie continued, attempting to cajole Beau into capitulation. “Seriously though, it’s got war and cowboys, and pretty ladies.” She patted him on the arm as she grabbed up her jacket to go. “Boys can like it too.”

Beau shot her an unimpressed look as his phone buzzed on his desk. He held up a finger as he picked it up. “This conversation isn’t over.”

He pressed the green answer button. “Arlen.”

There was no answer on the other end, only a buzzing, static noise with the occasional soft breath.

“Hello?” He tried again, but the line went almost immediately dead.

He pulled the phone away to see if it gave a number, but it was an unknown caller. He frowned and shrugged. Probably a wrong number.

He was about to start back in on the movie choice, when the phone buzzed again. He looked at the caller ID this time, but it was once again an unknown caller.

He answered the phone and gave his full name and title this time, thinking that maybe his brusque way of answering the last time had confused the caller.

“Hello, this is Sheriff Beau Arlen. What can I do for you?”

But again there was only silence, except the buzzing of a bad connection, and soft breathing, breathing that sounded more rapid this time, and a bit louder.

“Hello? Who’s calling?” He asked, but there was no response. By this time, both Cassie and Jenny were watching him on the phone, with interest.

Beau pulled the phone away from his ear again, to make sure there was still a connection, but the call had not dropped.

“Hello?” He said again, a bit louder.  This time, he heard a faint, tinny voice, but he’d missed what they said.

“I’m sorry, say again?”

“Help.”

That one word, when he finally heard it, made his heart leap. It was so small, but so very desperate and full of terror.

“Please, help.”

He stood up straight, completely focused. “Okay, I can help you. Who is this?” As he asked the question, though, something told him he already knew who it was.

“Le-Lexi Weston.”

He closed his eyes, relieved that she’d finally reached out, but then immediately scared for her. “Okay, Lexi, of course I’ll help you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cassie and Jenny start calling in the officers and deputies that were in the station. They both knew how much he’d worried about Lexi Weston over the last six weeks since he’d met her, so they knew if she was calling now, they were likely to need all hands on deck.

“What do you need, Lexi? Are you hurt?” He asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“No. No, I’m…I’m okay.”

Her voice was so quiet. “Is he there, darlin’? Can he hear you?”

“No, he’s gone. But I don’t know for how long. He’s working with his friend, and sometimes they’re gone a few hours and sometimes it’s not even a whole hour. And he…he left almost an hour ago now. So, please come quickly.”

Beau was nodding and gave a signal for everyone to move out. Going with him were, the girls, Poppernak, and four other deputies. He hoped it would be enough to get Lexi safely out of the house.

“You at home now, Lexi?” He confirmed.

“Yes. Do you know our address?”

He nodded. “Yep, got it from the file.”

He left out the fact that he’d also tried to casually drive by the place a couple times. What he was looking for he didn’t know. The house was set far enough back from the road that he hadn’t been able to really see anything. But he’d just been very worried about the terrified woman he’d met so briefly, and he was hoping for some kind of reassurance that she was still alright.

He hadn’t received any such reassurance from his two stealthy drive-bys.

But now they were on the way to get her free of that asshole she was married to.

“Okay,” Lexi said now, “Just be careful when you come. He might be....I mean, if he's back by then…he’s…he’s got guns.”

Beau chuckled darkly as he jumped in his big red truck and started it up with a roar from the engine. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ve got guns too. And we’re coming right now.”

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 "𝚘𝚑"

PART 8: CAT BOYS 

... it’s late into the night and y/n is streaming with one of her new friends, sykkuno. running on caffeine and redbull is apparently not enough because she falls asleep on his shoulder 45 minutes into their cyberpunk gameplay. at that exact moment, twitter goes up in flames.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (because i was threatened by thirsty anons) ─── soc. media + written fiction!  ─── word count: 1.8k author’s note: here it is...what yall been asking for. literally had to add a new part for this but i loved this idea sm i couldnt just nOT NOT do it. i tried writing this with the same energy as the smau lmao so expect chaos as always. hope you enjoy it and as always lmk what u think! hopefully yall wont go too feral, but tbh thats prolly too much to ask for xx EDIT: srr for the fucky format tumbler dot com is being lame 

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Such a back and forth continues for the better part of the day as you get ready. Corpse only whines a bit when you forget to text him back - you are packing, and your prestigious cat ears you bought from Amazon for 10$ deserve exquisite care - which only fuels your seemingly bottomless hunger for mischief, leading to you sneakily ignoring him more. When your phone lights up with a message, you giggle, giddy with excitement. Your laughter only gets louder and more erratic, to the point where Rae had busted down your door and threw her Hello Kitty plush at you - one you’d gotten her, mind you! - and told you to just “Shut the fuck up!”

Ungrateful. You know not everyone can appreciate your sense of humor, or stand your hyena like cackle, but that was uncalled for and you told her as much. Noting the mess your room is in (more than usual, that’s for certain), she leans onto the door frame, crossing her arms over her chest, pretty brown eyes twinkling curiously, “Where you off to?”

“So I had this idea-” You start, but are promptly shut down with a raise of her palm.

“Already know it’s a bad one.”

Insulted, and hurt, you clutch your heart. As if she had not mocked you enough today, “Rae...The hell, that’s so mean...” You mutter, face scrunching into a soft frown, “I only wanted to tell you what me and Syk thought of.”

“Oh?” Intrigued, she raises a brow, “Continue.”

“Gee, thanks for letting me this time.” You mumble, rolling your eyes, “So. We thought we’d stream together. The catch? In the same room! We’ll be playing Cyberpunk. Gotta cash in while the hype is still up.” You add, making her snort, “And, ya know, the whole cat boy business...We’ll be wearing matching cat ears. Admit it, I’m a genius.”

She’s quiet for a moment, mulling over your words; you can practically see the gears in her head turning. She glances around the room, then briefly at you, strangely apprehensive. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

Well, that is definitely not what you expected her to say. You figured it’d be more along the lines of you’d be one ugly cat. “Huh?” Is all you manage to stutter, “What do you mean?”

She gives you a look, one all people give when something is so plainly obvious, “Y/n. You do know the stans will go wild, right? And you do remember our conversation involving Corp-”

“Nope!” You exclaim cheerily with a bright smile to match. You don’t want to think about that. The relationship between you and Corpse is strictly platonic, and besides, seeing Twitter loosing their shit is always funny, and you never miss an opportunity to mess with your fans. Sykkuno is also a good friend, albeit a new one. This supposed flirting from Corpse’s end Rae deduced was nothing more than her projecting her feelings onto the situation. She always liked shoujo anime and was probably thinking one was happening right in front of her. Not a chance. Corpse was just being a friendly crackhead. Your energies mesh beautifully.

Like, beautifully in a strictly friend way. Absolutely nothing more than that.

She gives up, naturally, arguing with a wall would be more productive than arguing with you. You’re such a (Zodiac sign).

“Well,” She mumbles, ticking her head to the side, leaning off of the door frame and turning to leave, “Don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

Your grin melts as soon as she leaves. Glancing at your bag, you shove your last necessities in with newfound hesitance. 

Nothing bad will happen, right?

...Right?

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It is well past the generally set “appropriate” time to hang out, but since quarantine, what is appropriate anymore anyway? You’ve never been in Sykkuno’s apartment, but now that you’re here it’s...strangely him. Every corner seems tailored to his specific requirements. It’s cozy, and pleasantly warm - it’s a bit chilly in LA, as surprising as that is.

He’s even shyer than you remember him being. And a whole lot more awkward, but in an endearing way, a way that makes you want to laugh and try to reassure him that it’s just you and he has nothing to worry about. While you hung out only once, the history you share is rich and tender. From him following you on Twitter and subsequently prematurely ending your stream, to kidnapping a stray cat affectionately named Juan. His long lost brother, Juan (no the Second, just Juan), lives in your Minecraft server. 

His stream room is sadly bare. There’s an appalling lack of merch or fairy lights. Not even led-lights. It’s a good thing you brought your own. As you try to decided which color would be best - his signature lime green, reminiscent of his adorable Among Us astronaut, or, perhaps, mischievous violet? - he boots the game and tweets out a quick “streaming with y/n in ten mins! come one come all!” 

“You should probably tell your fans, too.” He mumbles, looking somewhere above your shoulder. You settle with cherry blossom pink. Glancing at him, you shrug.

“Ah, do it for me, please?”

“Oh!” He hiccups, “Uhm, I wouldn’t want to pry and I don’t know your password and-”

���It doesn’t have a password.” You had removed it, knowing something like this would happen. Bless your foresight, you did not want him to know it was demonspiitinmymouth. Before he could protest further, you rush to the nearest mirror to put on your cat ears and make sure they aren’t crooked. You look absolutely adorable. The cat boys in your dms will go feral. Hell, you might just go feral looking at yourself! Sykkuno is not ready. No one is. This will be a stream to remember.

When you return (with flourish of course), he’s anxiously fidgeting by his computer, his own little cat ears, one’s he wore for the Halloween stream, peaking out from his silky brown hair. You have to suppress a squeal. When he catches you gaze he gives the kindest, sweetest little smile.

“They, uh--” He points at you, then decides it’s rude to point, bringing his hand back to his lap, then clutching his mouse, lastly releasing a sound stuck between a chuckle and a wheeze, “suit you, uhm, a lot!” He finishes with a resolute nod, quickly spinning in his chair and away from you.

This is the reaction you desired. All is going according to plan. Is this what God feels like? If not, then you pity her. She’s missing out.

Taking a seat next to him - he had been gracious enough to haul you a spare chair from the kitchen - you draw closer, and he, instinctively, shrinks away with another nervous chuckle. 

“You have, uhm... I-I didn’t look!” He quickly chimes. You raise a brow, “Uhm, unopened messages? From Corpse? He texted you when I was tweeting! I didn’t mean to look, I’m sorry-”

Instantly, you recall the famous vine with the scandalous “daddy chill” line, though refrain from saying it aloud. You love havoc, but you’re not evil (Rae would ardently disagree with you, though). Instead, you just shrug, “’S fine, don’t worry. I’ll text him back later. Let’s start?”

He nods, but doesn’t look at you. Granted, you don’t think he glanced at you even once since you returned, “...Okay. Ready?”

“Ready!”

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You’re much too immersed into the game and Sykkuno’s twitch chat to even check what’s happening on Twitter, but your estimated guess is that everyone’s going crazy. The stream chat is unruly as well, but missing the signature Twitter spark. Most of the chaos is bravely lead by your fans. Sykkuno’s, much like the man himself, are too nice to scream so unabashedly.

Perhaps you excitement had been a bit too taxing, perhaps drinking 5 coffees and 2 energy drinks today and not enough water are to blame for the sudden drowsiness you’re feeling, but you can’t focus on the swimming chat or the abundance of cut-scenes at the starting point of the game. You steadily draw nearer and he, more composed in front of his audience, doesn’t react. About ten more minutes of hoovering by his shoulder and muttering soft commentary, and you feel yourself slipping.

The last coherent thought you have is a few choice words directed at caffeine itself for having the opposite effect of you at the worst time possible.

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You float in oblivion for perhaps ten minutes at best. Once you awake with a startle, you shower Sykkuno in shy apologies and he quickly reassures you that it’s fine and that he didn’t mind at all!

“Though,” He adds after a thoughtful pause, “not sure if it was very, uh, comfortable?”

His stream chat spams uwu and variations of similar kind. The stream continues for a few more hours before the both of you wish everyone a good night. 

While you planned on wreaking absolute havoc, this sudden falling asleep was unexpected. You pondered the consequences of such an innocent, unplanned act whilst ubering home, fearing to check your phone which by now was blowing up with not only Twitter notifications but also Rae’s angry messages that vaguely read “what the fuck y/n”. Within the past two hours she had left 57 messages on all platforms collectively, including 7 calls. 

Corpse’s last text was over three hours ago.

Now that’s strange. Worry festers quickly. Briefly glancing at your surroundings - the pretty glimmer of passing street lights, neon signs, familiar buildings - you decide that it’s time to check what kind of nuclear explosion you’ve caused.

Your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach as you scroll past the hundreds of tweets and mentions. Scan through Rae’s messages. 

You had failed to prepare ahead. Every explosion of such kind is followed by nuclear winter. And Corpse’s lack of messages feels especially cold.

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Not you smiling like a fucking idiot reading his last message! You shrink into the backseat, afraid the driver will accidentally look into the rear-view mirror and see you a bit too happy before asking questions. Good news? Yeah, but it’s not like it’s his any beeswax! In the words of Rihanna, just shut up and drive. 

This argument had not yet happened, but you’re preparing, just in case. 

As you think up of potential scenarios, your eyes drill into Corpse’s goodnight text. You’ve looked at it enough. Time to turn the phone screen off. Leave the app, at the very least. When the screen dims you instantly press on it to wake it up. This is embarrassing. Maybe the deadly amount of caffeine really did mess you up, big time. Your heart races in your chest, painfully almost. You feel a bit sick. Worst of all, you can’t stop smiling.

A notification from Rae makes you snap out of it. Ah, one more demon to deal with. 

However, before you talk to her, you really need to tell Twitter that you’re not with Sykkuno. And apologize to Sykkuno as well. 

At least Corpse doesn’t hate you.

Fucking hell, just exit the chat you idiot!

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry XI

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, sad reader, Bucky being Bucky because he don’t quit.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You try to make things better.

Note: Finally it’s the weekend! Got this done catching up on FATWS and just kind went with it. Also if anyone’s interested in making a moodboard/banner for this, I’m not sure if I like the one I have and I might play around with it. I would forever be indebted to you.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

MASTERLIST

You were frightened by the gentle touch on your elbow. You were so ensnared in your despair, you hadn’t heard the soft footsteps or sensed the figure right beside you. It was only May’s sweet voice which woke you from your drunken malaise.

“Oh dearie, what is the matter?” she rubbed your arm, “I did see how you left but Peter did not say what upset you. It wasn’t him, was it? I swear, I taught that boy better--”

“No, no, it wasn’t him, never, I… No, he has only been kind to me,” you sniffed, “it is only… I have been untrue. I do not deserve his, or your kindness.”

“Dearie, that is ridiculous, you are a good girl, you deserve all good things. Perhaps we only did just meet days ago, but we care for you. We could not be unhappy with you for anything,” she cooed.

“You don’t understand,” you daubed your eyes with your knuckles, “I… I lied to you, to your husband, and your nephew. Everyone here.”

“Is it a lie that would hurt us? Truly?” she asked, “would it lead any true plight for us? Would we lose our livelihoods or our lives?” She tried to look you in the eye, “I do not think so and so I do not worry of it.”

“What do you want from me?”

“What do I want from you?” she blinked in confusion.

“Yes, everyone wants something of me. If it is to be your friend, I do not know I could be much of one, and if it were to be… something else to your nephew, that surely could never be, and whatever it is, it cannot end well.”

“You speak in riddles, girl, and no doubt foolishly because you are already my friend and I would not rescind that title for anything.”

“And if I have no other title? Hmm? If I am only a servant painted to be a lady?” You looked at the floor and more tears streamed down, “do you still call me friend?”

She was silent. Her hand fell down your arm and she took your hand. You were surprised as she embraced you and pulled your head onto her shoulder. She rocked you as your tears spilled onto her gown.

“Whatever you are, you are good,” she whispered, “I, nor my husband, nor my nephew would take offense at your true bearing. The lie is small, but your character has shown true.”

“I can’t--I couldn’t--”

“What you will do is you will come with me for the night. You will let the wine drain from your veins and your tears subside,” she coaxed, “and whatever it is that truly troubles you will wait until then.”

“But what about--”

“Those men can tend to themselves,” she hooked her arm through yours and carefully drew you from the wall, “now let us go. I am weary myself.”

You let her lead you away even as uneasiness boiled in your stomach. You should go after Lord Barnes, find your way back to his chambers, but you were just as afraid to appease him as to defy him in that moment.

🏰

You slept beside May. Actually slept. You hadn’t done much of that in a long time. She was warm and reminded you of your mother. When you were young and she served the former Lord Barnes and you slept between her and your father on a straw mattress. He always smelled of hay and she smelled of some indiscernible pollen.

May smelled of cinnamon or something like it. You woke with a heavy head and limbs. You sat up in nothing but your shift as the older woman moved around in the dim. She hung a kettle over the small hearth in the tight chambers, nothing so roomy as the duke’s.

She stood and arranged two cups on the table. She wore a plain robe over her shift and rubbed her hands together in the morning chill. She smiled at you as she neared the window, “I didn’t mean to wake you, dearie.”

“No, I should,” you slid out from under the blankets as she pulled back the curtains from the only window, “I should go--”

“You should stay. I’ll brew some berry tea, it’ll do your head well,” she insisted.

“You don’t understand. I shouldn’t have come here last night, I should have--”

“Is this anything to do with Lord Rogers?” she interjected, “you did not say exactly how you knew him.”

“Rogers? No, he is not…” you pulled on your gown but it droop as you could not reach the laces, “please, help me dress. I must be back.”

“Back to what? To who?” she urged.

"Just back," you walked to her and turned your back to face her, "please, you've been so kind but you cannot know what should ensue should I delay."

"Because you won't tell me," she pulled the laces tight and jerked your entire body, "if you did, perhaps I might help."

"You couldn't even if you knew," you murmured as she knotted the ties, "I'm sorry. Thank you for all you've done," you faced her again, "but…"

"It's Lord Barnes." She declared staunchly, "isn't it? I saw him last night with you and Peter. My nephew would not share what was said but he was as out of sorts as you."

"As I said," you took your cap and pulled it over your head, "I am only a maid dressed to be another," you reached around your skirts to wiggle into your slippers, "I was remiss to lie to you, to involve you in my mess. You should stay away from me and I will do the same."

"You don't have to go back to him," she stopped you as you tried to flit past her.

"Where would I go?" You asked, "he will find me. He found me before. He is close with the king and every man of esteem in the kingdom and I haven't a coin to shield me."

"You could go to our stead. We could take you back with us, we are ever in need of another hand--"

"To be what? I would serve well but I expect you mean as more. Your nephew's interest in me is misplaced. I am not of his stature, in title or repute." You brushed past her and grabbed the long door handle, "I am a whore, that cannot be undone."

"Dearie--" you left her and pulled the door to clatter loudly behind you. It was early still but too late to please Barnes. You would face his wrath so it did not again stray to Peter and his kin.

You found Lester outside his door. The horse-faced guard snickered as he let you through and you hid your sneer from him. You knew how he listened through the door and there were times he mocked you when Barnes was not around, mimicking those whines and whimpers drawn from you in your torment. He would have more fodder that day.

The duke was awake. He sat only in his nightshirt before the blazing fire as he stirred it with the iron poker. He grumbled as the latch fell back into place. 

"You're overdue," he stated bluntly, "how is the boy? Hmm, were you so desperate to beg his pardons that you could not be troubled with mine?"

"It was his aunt, she saw me through the night. I was drunk," you neared him cautiously, "I wanted to be back but she kept me. It is no excuse for my… straying." 

You went around him so that you stood between him and the flames. He raised the poker to point it at your throat as he glared up at you. You grabbed it lightly and pushed it aside. He let you and dropped it to the floor with a clunk. He squinted up at you curiously. You bent slowly and gathered your skirts to lift them.

"No--" Bucky began and you put a finger to his lips, a shaky finger, and came closer as you hushed him.

You straddled him as your skirts bunched behind you as you held yourself up with your knees against the bench. You let your hand fall to his shoulder, that one which did not lead to more, and bent to kiss him through the thin linen.

"I came back, my lord," you said, "I wanted to all night but the wine… let me make it right."

He grabbed your chin with his other hand and forced you up. His jaw clenched as he looked you in the eye and held you there. You slid your hand down his chest and stomach and rubbed him through the tails of the shirt. He responded quickly as you felt him growing hard.

"You tell me all the things you want of me but do not allow me to be them," you leaned in so that his lips were close to yours, "so let me."

His blue eyes glimmered and you felt him gasp as you hand slipped under his nightshirt. His hand slipped down to your chest and squeezed as he moaned airily.

"You think I would forgive you?" He asked, his lips grazing yours hotly.

"For what, my lord? You thrust me into another's arms but what more did I do but dance," you struggled to keep your voice from quivering, "you left me there alone but I came back to you…" you stroked him and he gulped, "don't I always come back to you, my lord?"

You kissed him and forced down the revulsion and anxiety of what you were doing. This was the only language he understood. You angled his member and lifted yourself over him. You angled him against your entrance and shuddered as you let him inside. You croaked as you parted from his lips and sheathed him completely,

"I don't want that boy," you whispered as you moved you hips and latched onto his shoulders to keep on him, "only you, my lord, as you want me."

"Sweeting," he murmured, "ohhhh…" 

His hand went to your hip beneath the layers of your gown and shift. He grasped your thigh as you kept your motion steady. You flinched only as his fingers crawled to your vee and he flicked your bud. You moaned without thinking and focused on your hips.

A heat built at his fingertips as he kissed you again, deep and desperate as his hips tilted into you from below. The bench creaked under your weight and the fire flickered against your back. You slung your arms around him and closed your eyes, they stung but you would not cry.

You huffed as the tension coiled inside of you, his fingers working faster and faster, urging you on as his smoky voice filled your lungs. You tore your mouth away from his and hung your head back as your body moved out of instinct. 

You felt the same rise as that day in the carriage when he first touched you. Ripples rolled over you and you exclaimed as they rained over you like hail. Your walls clenched him and the tenderness that lingered dissolved. It had never felt this good, never felt good at all.

He pulled his hand from between your legs and hooked his arm around you. He stood and flipped you swiftly so that your back was across the bench. Your legs dangled down, splayed before him as he took control. He hammered into atop the narrow bench as you head and shoulders hung off the back. 

Your hood fell onto the floor and sweat gathered beneath the silk and linen of your day-old attire. You swooped your arm around Bucky's neck as he pinned you on the thin cushion and the noise of his frantic intrusion filled the room. He smelled of leather and smoke. He felt like fire and ice at once.

He rammed into you as hard as he could and pushed his face into the crook of your neck. His heavy pants warmed your flesh and his bit into your throat as he groaned. His hips spasmed wildly and he came with a final pinch of your tender skin. He stopped at his hilt and rested atop you like a stone.

The blood pounded in your head painfully as you hung over the bench. He pulled you up with him and your vision swam from the disorienting rise as he kept inside of you. He staggered around the seat and carried you to the bed, falling atop you on the cushy feather mattress. 

He pushed himself up on his elbow and gazed down at you. He shoved his cock as deep as he could and watched you squirm. His eyes were alight as he delighted in your helpless whimpers and you grasped the front of his nightshirt.

"You will always come back to me," he rasped and thrust hard, "always."

"Always… my lord," you squeaked as the pain once more filled your core and soul alike.

[lazychickensoup]

this might be a repost but I honestly can't remember if I ever posted this in the first place.

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“God damn y/n look at me!” Tsukkis fist slammed on the countertop making you nearly fall out of your seat. You stay in place not letting up. This was another one of your many fights with your boyfriend. They have been happening a lot more frequently than you would like to admit. Usually about stupid things like if someone doesn’t help around the house, staying out late without a text or call, just stupid relationship stuff. This fight...it was different. The mood wasn’t as pitiful as it usually is. You don’t even remember how this fight starts but it turned to something way more serious than someone not putting away dishes.

It had been an hour or two after the last words were said and you two were avoiding each other. Tsukki was in his office and, you had had Tsukkis phone to look something up when a message on Instagram had come up. It was from an account you didn’t recognize and the messages froze you with disbelief. ‘Tsukki-kun~ I thought we were meeting for dinner tonight? I wore my special outfit that you liked last time.’ you numbly tap the notification and scan through the messages. They had been talking for so long it made you physically sick. Holding your stomach your thumb continues to move the page up seeing nude photos of the girl and Tsukki, disgusting messages about “how good” each other were that night, and merciless shit-talk about you. The feeling in your stomach couldn’t be kept back any longer, you dart to the bathroom hunching over the toilet. As the bile left your mouth and tears stream down your face you hear footsteps rush in behind you.

“Y/n? Are you feeling ill? What happened?” Just the person you didn’t want to see. You regain your composure walking to the sink to wash out your mouth all while ignoring the blond that was worriedly standing in the door. You turn to him with your eyes low trying to hide your tears. “What are you crying for? Baby, what happened?” Baby? He rarely ever called you pet names. He’s not allowed to anymore.

“I don’t...I just…” you could even let out a sentence. You hold up his phone showing him what you had found. His eyes widen knowing he was caught in his act he knew it would be better to not act stupid and own up for it.

“Y/n I swear..”

“You swear what? You’re not an idiot Tukkishima, and you know that I’m not one either. Don’t try to lie and tell me it’s not what it looks like. Why? Why did you- Are you not satisfied with me? A-Am I not good enough?” you find yourself stuttering frequently the more pissed of you are. You’re screaming in the blond’s face as he sits there with a shocked expression. Out of all the years of you two being together, he has never seen you explode like this. But, he knew you’re right and explained it to you bluntly.

“I haven’t loved you...for a while now.” his face sinks into a small frown. “I mean I still like to have you around, and doing stuff with you it’s just more like friends to me now.” your mouth left open with shock. You thought you could physically feel your heart shattering into a million pieces. Trying to process the new information you were fed you pushed past him walking back into the living room. Tsukkishima follows you cautiously.

“So you’ve just been using me for who knows how long because you enjoyed my company? While getting off with some other girl? Does she know? Wait what am I saying, of course, she does you two were shit-talking me in the messages.” you laugh throwing his phone carelessly on the coffee table. “Those messages dated back to two years ago. We’ve been dating for two and a half.” you stood brain still trying to figure this situation out. Tsukkishima was standing opposite you with a blank expression. He honestly didn’t care what happened or how this ended because to him it was finally ending. After a few seconds of thinking your face dropped putting the pieces together. “It’s not that you haven’t loved me for ‘a while’. You never loved me.” he didn’t reply answering your question but you needed to hear it. “Did you Tuskkishima Kei.” he moved his hand up to the bridge of his noes rubbing it in frustration.

“No, I didn’t. To be completely honest with you, I thought that if I waited it out something would surface but you know what? I was wrong. You never really meant anything to me. You’re broken. Broken beyond fixing. I tried to stay with you through all of your moody episodes but I can’t.” taken aback by his words more tears flood down your cheeks.

“I’m broken? What does that mean.”

“It means, your a bore. You’re useless when it comes to anything to satisfy me. You’re just worthless to me.” he sits on the couch hunching over with his hands clasped together.

“So, I’ve wasted two and a half years of my life because I can’t entertain you enough, but somehow you concluded that dragging this out instead of ending it was the better choice? You are fucking unbelievable.” you spat at him. You ran your fingers through your hair, eyes darting to every inch of the room, you pull at your fingers to calm you down and resit the feeling to break something. “Leave.” He looks up at you unamused. You two shared the apartment but he knew after this he would probably be finding a new place.

After packing a few things he stood at the door watching your figure pace around the room.

“Y/n.”

“Save it Tuskkishima. You were a waste of time. So please don’t waste any more of it and leave.” with that he grabbed the last of his things and left.

[bitch-im-your-biggest-nightmare]

It Doesn’t Matter What They say [Corpse Husband]

Hey! This is my first time doing something on Tumblr. If you’d like, go to my Wattpad because thats where this story comes from! Also, sorry if its not accurate. Im still knew to the Corpse_Husband fanbase and the people the people he is seen playing with (-Cr1tiKal and Pewdiepie] and im not familiar with personalities 

Summary: No one knew of Corpse and Y/Ns relationship. Until Corpse thought it was a good time to reveal it and maybe to make the people who simp way too much over him calm down a bit. he thought it was a good idea, so did Y/N. But the fans were not happy..

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Corpse really loved Y/N. He loved her so much that he let her see his face- a week after they met. They met online through Twitter and became best friends, and they totally hit it off. Y/N made Corpse happy, and he trusted her with all his life. Y/N was small, cute, and innocent. She had a soft high pitched voice and was short. She was the exact opposite of Corpse, and that's what he loved about her. He loved when she wore his hoodies, they were always way bigger on her and the sleeves went over her hands. He loved how kind she was. Y/N was a sweetheart, and Corpse didn't know how he was able to score this hard.

Y/N really loved Corpse. He loves so damn much it might kill her. She was happy she got her phone fixed after it stopped charging, if she didn't this wouldn't have happened. They became best friends and hit it off, and she loved when she made Corpse smile. She knows his real name- but calls him Corpse because that's what he prefers. She knows his birthday, his favorite foods, his favorite songs, his personality, how to cheer him up, she knows everything. She loved Corpses deep voice and how it soothed her to sleep. She loved how tall he was compared to her. She loved sitting on his lap while he made his videos and did his streams. He loved wearing his warm hoodies and snuggling up to his chest after long days. Corpse was the best, and Y/N didn't how she was able to score this hard.

Corpse and Y/N thought it would be a good idea to reveal their relationship to the world.

So they did.

In his last stream, he was playing Among Us and decided to tell everyone about Y/N. His exact words were "Guys by the way, I think it's pretty important to tell you guys that I now have a girlfriend. Her names Y/N, and shes the sweetest little thing."

"I'm not little!" Y/Ns voice rung out from behind him. She was sitting on his bed watching him play. Everyone he was playing with freaked out at how soft and high pitched her voice was.

"Her voice is the exact opposite of Corpses, how is this possible?" Felix said with a laugh.

"How can a demon score with an angel?" Charlie commented.

"She sounds so cuuuute!" Poki said, already falling in love with Y/N even she never heard her voice.

"Awwe now I feel lonely." Sykkuno said, sending a sad face in the chat which made them all laugh.

"Nice to meet you all!" Y/N said, walking over to sit on Corpses lap. She was wearing a familiar black hoodie that was way too big on her. Hmm.. wonder whose it is.

"Wha- are you wearing my hoodie again? I was looking for it all over." Corpse had a smirk plastered on his face and looked Y/N over. She was wasn't wearing any pants- but she knew that smirk meant he was just teasing her, they don't make love very often. They just have late night cuddle sessions and kisses.

"I hid it from you so I can wear it." Y/N said a little sheepishly. She was a little awkward talking to Corpse like this infront of everybody. But by how his friends greeted her, she knew they liked her. She was sure the fans would like her as well.

"Wow. You know I was very cold without that hoodie. I had to wear this plain white t-shirt that made me even more cold." Corpse shook his head in a teasing way. Though Y/N was very soft and innocent, so she thought he was being serious for a second.

She frowned, "I'm sorry! I'll give it to you now-" She started to take it off but was stopped by Corpse.

"Ay ay ay ay- no no no, it's fine I was just joking Y/N." He chuckled, hugging her tightly.

"How is she so pure?" Toast muttered, sitting there in disbelief.

"Shes so innocent." Aoc chuckled, already liking this Y/N girl. She really wanted to play a game of Among Us with her, she seemed like such a nice girl to play with.

"Corpse you better treat her like a queen or I swear to god I will-" Charlie was cut off by Sean.

"SHe sound so perfect for Corpse, I'm for ya dude." Sean said, knowing what to come with that sentence.

"Oh how dare you cut me off. I was about to speaks of wisdom!" Charlie said.

"You were about to say profanity. We need to protect this bean we know as Y/N" Poki said.

Charlie sighed, "Fine. But you better expect a fucking DM Corpse!"

Y/N decided to play along with this, She looked curiously at Corpse and said "Babe? Whats fucking?"

There was audible gasps, and Corpse looked at her in complete and utter disbelief. His little innocent bean just said the no no word, it was forbidden in her vocab.

"CHARLIE!"

"OH MY GOD!"

"NOOOooOOOOOOO!"

"DON'T TAKE HER INNOCENCE!!"

"pretty sure Corpse already took it if you know what I mean."

"Ew what the f--feck?"

--------

It was a fun night for Y/N and Corpse. Y/N enjoyed her time talking to the others and studying Corpses strategies as an imposter. She was excited for when she was gonna be able to play with them, she really looked forward to it. After the stream, Corpse went to record a video reading some more fan written horror stories. Y/N went and laid on the couch, waiting patiently for her boyfriend to finish up his recording- which was going to be a while. She scrolled through her phone, watching a few of Corpses videos and looking at photos of them on her camera roll.

But she made a mistake by going on Twitter.

"Corpses gf is so fake lmao"

"Y/N does not deserve Corpse! Shes sounds like such a bitch"

"I hope @T/N and @Corpse_Husband break up. I hate their relationship already 😭"

"Y/N sounds like a hoe and isn't worthy of Corpses time."

"I bet Corpse is so tired of @T/N lmao. its obvious in his voice loooooooool"

"I hope Y/N dies so i can get a piece of deep daddy 🤩🥰"

"I already hate Y/N and I haven't even seen her in any other vids XD"

"Yoo they sound like they hate her lol. I bet they're just putting on an act to make her feel better about herself."

The DMs, messages, and comments on her posts were even worse..

"You don't deserve Corpse. Fuck off hoe."

"You aren't worry of Corpses time."

"You're such a user."

"Bitch"

"User"

"I bet Corpse really hates you."

"I hope you fucking because Corpse doesn't need an ugly hoe like you in his life"

And they just got worse and worse. Y/N was shocked, why are they hating on her so fast? Does Corpse really not like her..? Is she really not worthy of his time..? NO! She pushed them away, Corpse loves you, and that's truth.

But even so, Y/N couldn't stop reading the messages. They were all so mean.. Only a few people stood up for her. She felt her heart break, everyone hates her... Just despises her! She felt tears run down her face. She cuddled into the hoodie, pulling the oversized hoodie her H/C hair. She felt hurt and hated, like no one wanted her, not even Corpse- the person who loved her the most.

--------

After an hour, Corpse decided to take a little break from recording and check on Y/N. He missed her soft voice and her cuddles, so he was on a mission to get just that thing. He stood up from his gaming chair and gave a nice long stretch and ran a hand through his black hair. He walked to his door, slowly opening it and quietly walking through the hallway. He planned to scare Y/N, and sense it usually takes him hours to finish his recording she wouldn't suspect a thing.

But when he got closer to the living room, he felt worry and concern overwhelm him. He heard the soft sobs and cries of his beloved girlfriend. He rushed into the living room, sitting on the couch and picking her up to hold her in his arms. "Hey babe- are you ok? Whats wrong?"

Y/N didn't say anything, she just snuggled into Corpses chest and hugged him tightly as she sobbed.

"Babe, you can tell me anything, you know that? What's wrong? Did someone say something that hurt you on stream? Wait- is it what Sykkuno said? Baby I'm not gay he's just a friend and you know that, it's just a joke that we're-"

"I-i-its not that.." Y/N muttered out.

"Then whats wrong?" Corpse asked, his voice full of nothing but worry and concern.

Y/N grabbed her phone and turned it on. She went on Twitter on looked up the hashtag 'HateY/N' and told Corpse to scroll through.

She watched as he scrolled through the tweets, and his expression twisted into one Y/N has never really seen before, anger. Oh he was livid. How could they say those things at his beautiful, sweet, and happy girlfriend? He thought his fans would support him and Y/Ns relationship. Why didn't they care?

He read some of the battles, some people loved Y/N.

"Bro stfu. Y/N is perfect for Corpse."

"lmao what? Shes ugly asf"

"Seriously? If you really cared about Corpse you would support him. Now fuck off."

Corpse pulled his own phone out and hopped on Twitter,  instantly typing a response to everyone who has been hating on Y/N.

He said "To everybody who has been hating on @T/N, my girlfriend. I love her with all my life and I do not like how some of you guys have been treating her. She has changed my goddamn life, and all this bullshit you guys have been spitting has made Y/N cry. So please.. just please stop."

After that, Corpse threw his phone onto the carpet and hugged Y/N tightly, kissing her temple softly. "It doesn't matter what they say, I will always love you Y/N."

[freedfromthegalactichivemind]

Okay, so, somewhat of a response I cannot make to a thing I saw pop up on my dash.  I cannot reply directly because the OP is someone who has me blocked (don’t ask).  I just saw this thing re-blogged by someone who is a mutual about fandom-obsession and person showing off their merch.  Their... many things of a same thing... yeah, wow.  More power to you.  Still, wow.    And, yeah, it did make me feel better about my various fandom-obsessions. I don’t own any wearable She-Ra stuff, save for a couple of pins affixed to one of my game-system carriers, mostly because I don’t want to have to explain it to people... but I do own a lot of Zelda-shirts.  Mostly Hyrule-crest, I had one Wind Waker stained glass window shirt that I wore out that I would like to replace. Zelda is a little more of a mainstream fandom, so I feel “less weird” in my geekdom with them.  My shirts are different, though.  Even the Hyrule crest shirts are... one that’s gold, one that’ s green-gold gradation.  And it’s a solid design - just a good royal crest.  Got jewlery, too, because the Triforce makes awesome jewelry.   But... OP’s character-specific obsession makes me look back, specifically,  to my Trigun-obsession from several years back and my ongoing love of Vash the Stampede. I had large official-merch dolls of him, both regular flavor and the toy-only Dark Vash that I used to cuddle like a teddy bear at night. Yeah, I did that, so maybe if they somehow read my post (unlikely) that will make them feel less weird. That was in my 20s.  And I know how weird that is.  But, man... Vash was like... it for me. And I’m glad that he was my main obsession for a while, my “character obession 101″ course because he was the kind of character that people wouldn’t harass you for being “immoral” over liking since he’s the hero of his story and is an interesting combination of a badass pacifist. Now, people would get into arguments with you over a love of Vash back in the days of late ‘90s early ‘00s anime-fandom precisely over the sustainability of his philosophy and the way he goes about it, but it all boils down to the kinds of arguments people have been making about “a time to kill” since the beginning of time and people really couldn’t fault your personal morals in liking the character - a paragon hero. In other words, comparatively, being a Hordak-fan is much harder because we both live in a wankier fandom-age and he’s a villain.  Liking the guy who crushes nations is a tad different than liking the misunderstood outlaw who goes out of his way to not-kill and bears scars from doing everything necessary to save *everyone.*  I do both, going from paragon hero to tragic villain in my character-loves, so I’ve seen the difference.  ... If I ever crossed the streams, Vash would spare Hordak - absolutely no doubt.  He’s with She-Ra on this one.  Hell, Vash would probably try to make an argument for sparing Horde Prime if he could be contained / put in a place where he could no longer harm people. Vash be like that.  *Imagines Vash and Hordak getting into a conversation about having abusive brothers.*   (I actually read a fanfic once where there was a bit of Trigun crossover!  It was a She-Ra main fic that crossed over a lot of different sci-fi through mention of other planets and the Planet Gunsmoke / Nomans Land was one of them, so yes, crossover can be feasable).  God, there’s even some potential parallels in Clones and Plants... (Stop it, Shadsie, you’ve already got that Fallout crossover chewing your brain, you don’t need this)!  By the way, you might see me wink off this blog into the ether when the 2023 reboot of the anime “Trigun: Stampede” comes out.  First loves, you know. Even though by the trailer, I *hate* the new art-style, but...my boy will be back, so yeah.   Anyway, I just felt like rambling.  The OP did make me feel a little better about my weird fandom fixations, because... I’ve never had that many of the same shirt? Not even when I was going to anime conventions in a red longcoat I had commissioned with a garage-kit fake gun and belts over my arms to make a pretend prosthetic doing a cross-dress cosplay of my Fave of All Time.  

[chazukekani]

Previous // Next

Summary for Code:04 is here!

Please notice that this is just a summary so not every single detail is included!

Stormbringer Summary 5

Code 04: Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again

Recap: N and Verlaine escaped from the laboratory.

The chapter begins with an excerpt of Rimbaud's diary. He wrote that there was once an anti-government movement 'May Revolution', and the leaders were called 'The Fauns'. They created a secret weapon which was named 'No.12 of Darkness' that can control gravity freely. Once Rimbaud acquired this weapon, he was ordered to educate him and trained this weapon to become a spy, and its name was Paul Verlaine.

-  Unbelievable. The Secret of the Gentle Forest was decoded. Here it lies the most fierce beast, and Verlaine...

Rimbaud wrote in his diary.

-

Verlaine and N were at the top of a tower crane. Verlaine had N here because he wanted to know why N knew the Secret. However, N claimed that the last 6 pages of the Secret was erased by Rimbaud himself so he couldn't tell much. Verlaine couldn't believe that's actually Rimbaud who altered the information.

He was strong, Verlaine referred to Rimbaud. He is the only one who was capable of battling with Verlaine in his organisation, and they were partners. Not only this, Rimbaud also called Verlaine his friend, but Verlaine just felt like he couldn't like Rimbaud.

Verlaine left N on the tower crane alone and left.

-

It was a night with a clear sky, a train was moving on the railway and Mori was sleeping inside. At once, a human showed up on the railway, and stopped the train. The train was derailed as a result of mass shock.  Verlaine went inside the train and searched for something, and he believed no one inside the train was able to survive after the shock.

Verlaine found the body of Mori, and he approached to confirm the breath. But that wasn't Mori. It was a man who wore the outfit of his, but was not Mori himself. Turns out it was Mori's double, Hirotsu. A tiny person also appeared afterwards, and that's Dazai.

Suddenly, there was light in the dark, and that was flame. By the mountain near the railway, there were 50 and more sniper bullets aimed and shotted Verlaine, and the target was in utter pain.

'Don't think these little rocks could kill me...' Verlaine was trying to use the woods beside him to attack the snipers who were hiding in the mountain, but he stopped

'Hoho- You really look like my subordinate when I take a closer look' said an elegant lady, Kouyou. She summoned Golden Demon and launched offense towards Verlaine.

'You can't beat me alone,' Verlaine said.

'Who said I am alone?' Verlaine then felt his whole body sinking down to the ground, and turned into multiple snakes that were about to swallow him. That was the Lieutenant's ability (reference to Dead Apple manga, former Port Mafia executive), that could manipulate the state of objects.

'Ability organisations are stronger than ability users,' Dazai observed and smiled. Various ability users from the Port Mafia were launching all kinds of attacks towards him, such as the ability of slowing the time and freezing. In fact, Dazai sent 420 Mafia members which included 28 ability users to the scene to defeat Verlaine.

'I will mourn you,' Dazai said to Verlaine, and took out Rimbaud's diary from his pocket.

The next moment, a black wave inflated and spreaded to the whole field.

'-- You hatreds, your dumb torpors, your weaknessses,

And your brutalisation suffered long ago,

You give back, O Night, like an excess,

Un-malevolent, of blood, each month or so, (extract from The Sisters of Charity, by Arthur Rimbaud)' Verlaine said the spell.

The wind calmed, the buzz on the ground vanished as if escaping from something. The invisible waves were flooded in the atmosphere.

'The door was opened,' Dazai observed. A black object appeared far far away in the forest. Right after, where Verlaine were, ejected a form of dark energy. The car that was hit by this energy was completely deformed with half of it vanished and the remains were just like a wrapped paper.

On the mountain, there was a monster who controlled a dark sphere. When people touched the sphere, they died.

No.3 Forces, annihilated; No.5 forces, all dead, No.8 forces, no response, as reported from Dazai's walkie talkie. The mountained was eliminated, and the ground was distorted. All the mafia members were screaming and suffering.

'It's all in the plan, we will win if the next attack succeeds,' said Dazai.

-

Up in the sky of Yokohama, Chuuya and Adam were inside a helicopter and they jumped off from it due to the attack from the monster. Adam was able to fly in the sky because his body allowed him to transform himself into a flying machine.

Similar to Chuuya, Verlaine was also intolerant to poison despite having ample physical strength, so actually it was their plan to approach Verlaine closely, so that they can inject poison into Verlaine's body. It was notable that Adam mixed this poison pill.

It was very difficult to get closer to Verlaine because he had activated his corruption, which he lost his consciousness and attacked the surroundings without rationality.

Nonetheless, Chuuya did put a toxic pill into Verlaine's mouth, which he has his conscious back. Yet Verlaine splitted out the pills right after.

'You always surprise me, Chuuya,' Verlaine spoke. He told Chuuya that once he said the spell, he would have his human personality unlocked and become a mad beast that generated ability singularity. However, that is Rimbaud who thought about adding a spell on Verlaine, which enabled him to get back to a rational form after using his corruption.

'He always thinks about what he could do for me,' said Verlaine.

'But you betrayed him,' Chuuya replied

'Because I wanted to save you,' Verlaine answered.

Suddenly, a finger touched Verlaine's face.

'What an unexpected offense. I bet no one could foresee this. What a joke,' said Chuuya

Verlaine turned back, and realised that was Adam's finger.

'Do you wanna hear an android joke?' Adam's finger was installed with a tiny syringe, and this enabled poison to be injected into Verlaine's body.

'Seems like a child's trick can defeat the king of assassins. Thanks for listening to my android joke.'

-

It returns to another section of Rimbaud's diary. Rimbaud was thinking about what presents he should give to Verlaine on his birthday. He came up to a conclusion: a black hat. That was not an ordinary hat. The materials used inside the hat consists of 10% platinum, 10% titanium and the rest were made with rainbow-coloured ability metal which was installed with the ability of the Fauns inside. By wearing this hat, it enabled Verlaine to act on his own will and less interfered by external instructions and interruption. In other words, Verlaine was a step closer to a man with free will by having this hat.

Rimbaud gave the hat to Verlaine on his birthday, and he did not look surprised or happy either way.

'Just take it,' Rimbaud told Verlaine, and there was no response. They drank some wine that night and said goodnight to each other.

-

The battle was so called ended, but the field was left with gravity waves and the forest was completely destroyed. Verlained passed out, but still alive. Dazai told Adam and Chuuya that N was rescued from the tower crane, but disappeared during transportation.

-

'I can't die here...' said N. The car that he was taking bumped into a utility pole because he injected some form of medicine to the driver. He took out an old style flare gun and shooted.

'Is this some mistake made by the offense team?' Chuuya noticed the shot far away.

'Shit...' Dazai's eyes were in despair.

The shot that shooted from N's flare gun was exploded with colourful metal pieces floating in the air like snow, and even accompanied with some music. Verlaine suddenly yelled painfully. His eyes were filled with blood and the blood stream was clear on his face and grabbed his chest hardly.

'That was not the effect of my pill!' Adam shouted, 'The gravitational field was unusual here!'

The space was deformed, and Verlaine was flooded inside his own gravity wave.

'The world ends here...' Verlained whispered just like an old man who's dying 'Run, Chuuya.' Verlaine smiled sorrowfully.

The sky was divided, the thunder was coming and the atmosphere was expanding. N saw the ability form of Verlaine. It was a black beast, the opposite of god, and original demon -- Guivre the Beast. The monster annihilated all the aircrafts incoming and was about to proceed to the city center.

'See that Verlaine! That's your end!' N laughed, almost screamed. 'An unique being like you will die because of such a boring creature like me! HAHAHAHA DIE VERLAINE!'

-

Here comes a flashback during the night of Rimbaud and Verlaine's mission of stealing Arahabaki.

'Don't give this kid to the French,' Verlaine was holding the young Chuuya on his arm.

'What?' Rimbaud was confused.

'Don't hand him over to anyone, and don't let him go back to the lab. Grow this kid in a farm and just never let him know about his truth.'

'What are you talking about?' Rimbaud asked once again.

'Think about it Rimbaud,' Verlaine's voice was tense and hostile at the same time, 'If someone tells you you're not a human, how impactful it will be. You are not born with god's blessing but just a programme, how hurtful it is. You cannot see the moon and live in darkness forever without any hope, and no one will come save you. Even such a feeling of despair is designed by someone else!'

'We have this conversation countless times, Paul,' Rimbaud stepped forward, 'You are a human, everyone sees that. Instead of thinking how you were made, isn't it better to think what you should be as a being?'

'Paul...' 'Don't get close.'

'I am sorry. Anyways, should we go back and have a chat?' Rimbaud stepped forward again.

'No, it's too late.'

A huge fight between the spies broke out.

-

Adam had an idea to stop the destruction of Guivre. Almost at the end of the Great War, Britain had developed something that was currently the energy source of Adam's machines. However, the initial usage of Adam's energy source was a mass destruction weapon. Adam smiled and continued. If they used Adam's weapon inside him, they could burn and melt the Guivre.

So they put this in practise. Adam asked Chuuya to tie Adam's own arm to an electric cable. However, Adam pushed Chuuya away when he was about to trigger the weapon. He explained to Chuuya that the weapon inside him was called the Shell (55 minutes reference). It can burn down the surroundings of 22 yard radius, and the internal temperature could reach 6000 degree celsius, and that is almost the temperature of the sun surface. This was sufficient to destroy the Guivre.

'Don't do this!' Chuuya cried

'Don't you have your dream! To build an investigation organisation purely ran by machines right!'

Adam silenced for two seconds.

'My dream is to protect humans,' Adam replied, 'and my dream comes true now.'

'Wait!'

A gigantic fireball. It burned the woods, and boiled the land, and altogether evaporated. The Guivre moaned miserably and decomposed in the air. Adam sacrificed himself and the monster was destroyed.

However, the tail of the beast in front of Chuuya and Dazai was forming into something. That piece of tail suddenly grew a face out of it, something like a reptile. It then turned into a huge form of creature. Its head was pretty much the head of the former Guivre, but the number of eyes were different, and it had red eyes.

'Don't look at it, Chuuya,' Dazai warned, 'He was sensitive to emotion, so don't let him see you.'

'I know how to defeat this ability singularity,' said Chuuya, 'I recalled from my memory.'

'Let's brief me that,' Dazai smiled.

-

They figured out how to open Chuuya's door. In order to activate Chuuya's corruption, he needs to say the spell 'Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again'. Together with the hat gifted by Rimbaud, Chuuya could control the door with his own consciousness. However, there's a problem. Once Chuuya said the spell, the log inside his programme will altogether be erased, which means Chuuya could no longer find out whether he was human or not via the programme.

Chuuya was flying in the sky. He grabbed his hat tightly and recalled his friend's word

-- I am satisfied that I can protect you.

And he said 'Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again.'

The battle between the gigantic beast and a tiny Arakami (God of Arahabaki) began. Dazai was directing the forces to launch offense towards the beast. Meanwhile Chuuya's physical body could no longer tolerate the power inside his body. He was bleeding severely. Finally, Chuuya created an enormous fireball that was as if the second sun in the night. Finally, the beast disappeared and Dazai nullified corruption.

Code:04 End

[mianavs]

Festered Wounds

The insecurities that brought you together now tore you apart

Bakugo x f!reader

a/n: been thinking about toxic relationships lately and realized i needed to write more mha hehe

tw: dubcon, smut, implied abuse

wc: 1.4k+

The belief that you could climb the ladder of success through hard work and dedication had been your lifeline growing up. It was what your father engraved in your mind as he worked ungodly hours just to keep a roof over your head and food on the table. So you did what you had to do in order to avoid working a measly job with your mediocre quirk. You divided your time studying and improving your quirk until your eyelids grew heavy and your muscles ached.

But in the end, hard work wasn’t enough and your growth plateaued after graduating UA. You did all you could to improve your quirk but, at the ripe age of twenty-two, you were found yourself at a dead-end with the promotion from sidekick to pro-hero nowhere in sight.

They say misery loves company and you suppose that was what kept you tethered to Katsuki Bakugo after the initial attraction subsided. Like you, Bakugo had his own insecurities that ate at him the longer Izuku Midoriya remained the Number One Hero and the larger the gap between them grew.

Where the two of you once found solace in your relationship and licked each other’s wounds, it proved to have been only temporary. Your wounds eventually festered and turned your relationship into an unreliable crutch that sometimes supported you and other times let you fall.

The buzzing noise stirred you awake and you reached over to your nightstand to pick up your vibrating phone. You noticed the mail icon on your lock screen after disabling your alarm and your hands trembled as you rubbed the leftover sleep off your eyes. Impatient fingers opened the email but upon reading the first few words any hope you had dissipated.

[Thank you for your interest but, after further consideration, we have decided to pursue other…]

It was your seventh rejection letter that month and you were starting to lose all motivation to keep applying for a pro-hero position at a hero agency.

As you brushed your teeth, you remembered Bakugo’s words after the first few rejection letters you’d shared with him.

“Tch you’re obviously not looking hard enough. There’s gotta be some agency that’ll take you.”

Resentment reared its ugly head as you rinsed out your mouth. Of course he would never know what it was like to get rejected by an agency. As one of the top three heroes, Bakugo had agency’s lining up to recruit him yet his pathetic girlfriend couldn’t even get one. You’d eventually stopped showing him the rejection letters knowing his reprimands would hurt more than help you.

Taking in your reflection that showcased your swollen eyes, you cancelled your plans with your old classmate knowing the only reason she and all the others sought you out was to either brag about their successful careers or to suck up to Katsuki Bakugo’s girlfriend in an attempt to meet him.

You caught yourself before any more ugly emotions towards your boyfriend surfaced. It’d been a recurring action recently and the guilt that proceeded always goaded you to do things for Bakugo. Most of the time, he didn’t notice the extra-mile you went when you cooked, cleaned, or surprised him at work for a quickie during lunch but it was better that way—your shameful feelings were your own to deal with.

After spending the day cleaning, doing laundry, and buying groceries, you were plating Bakugo’s favorite spicy noodles when the sound of the front door slamming shut hampered your good mood. Used to dealing with his episodes, you waited for him to enter the kitchen and remained silent, hoping the sight of food was enough to lessen his anger.

Bakugo was perfectly disheveled when he rounded the corner and appeared before you. His hair was wilder than usual and you knew it was the result of running his fingers through it too many times. The suit jacket he usually wore for meetings was nowhere in sight and you assumed he discarded it somewhere in the living room. His red tie was loose around his neck and the sleeves of his black button-down shirt were pushed up to his elbows.

Under different circumstances, you would have jumped his bones without a second thought but the hostility in his scarlet eyes had you trembling for different reasons.

The plate in your hands was thrown aside, crashing against the wall and painting it an ugly red as the noodles slid down to the tile floor. Your legs moved on their own and you backed away from your boyfriend whose jaw was set, brows were furrowed, and his mouth contorted into a frown that only deepened as you retreated.

“You can’t look at me like they do, Y/N. Not you.” His strained voice was quiet but you recognized the hurt and comforting words spilled out your mouth instantaneously.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki, but how about you tell me what happened. Please, let’s just talk—”

Hard hands gripped your shoulders and harsh lips swallowed your plea. He was rougher than usual and his teeth clashed against yours while your lips swelled from his bruising kiss. Pain eventually gave way to pleasure and the longer Bakugo’s warm tongue glided against your tongue the easier it was to surrender yourself to your carnal desires.

With your hands around his neck, Bakugo wasted no time in discarding your apron, bunching your skirt up, and backing you up against the kitchen counter. The press of his hard-on against you was enough for your arousal to leak out and coat your panties. You whimpered when his mouth abandoned yours and the only thing connecting the two of you was a strand of saliva that eventually broke and dribbled down your chin. Through lidded eyes you made out the frustration that replaced anger on his face and supposed it was better than nothing.

Bakugo rocked his hips against your wet panties and he placed open-mouthed kisses on your neck that further incited your need for release. You tugged your boyfriend’s hair and started moving your hips on your own accord which was all it took for him to release his cock, pick you up, and press you against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist.

There was always a painful stretch when he sheathed himself into your cunt but normally Bakugo did a good job prepping you whether it was with his fingers, tongue, or cock. This, unfortunately, wasn’t one of those times and you were gasping in pain and digging your nails onto his clothed back as he hammered into you.

When the pain only increased with each erratic snap of his hips, tears streamed down your face but he merely kissed them away and continued to pound into you while your cunt tightened in discomfort. Your safe word almost left your lips but guilt and concern prevented it from being voiced. Left with no other alternative, you closed your eyes and held onto your boyfriend until his labored pants turned into groans and ropes of hot semen painted your walls in their color. Bakugo set you down after pressing a chaste kiss on your temple and you used whatever strength you had left to leave the kitchen and lock yourself in the bathroom without sparing him a glance.

The turmoil of emotions erupted in the shower and you cried not caring if he heard you. After crawling into bed with a headache, the belief that you’d discarded your hurt and anger in the bathroom was proven wrong when Bakugo entered your shared bedroom. The remorse is evident on his face but instead of making you feel better it incites your resentment.

“I’m sorr—”

“You’re pathetic, you know, taking it out on me. Why do I have to be your punching bag whenever Midoriya one-ups you? Maybe if you fixed your shitty personality you might be able to surpass him. But that’ll never happen will it, Katsuki?”

The cruel words spilled out like vomit; once you started there was no stopping it and in the end you felt empty. You waited for him to counter your insults with attacks about your quirk or your position but he only nodded once before turning around and leaving the room.

You were half asleep when Bakugo came back after showering and crawled into bed. You pretended to be asleep when he eventually pulled you into his warm chest and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

There were countless moments when you were tempted to break it off with him, especially after one of his episodes. The longer your relationship lasted the bigger the arguments, the harsher the insults, and the shorter the moments in between became. But when Bakugo held you in his arms and whispered sweet nothings into your ear, thoughts of leaving him went out the window and all you felt was love and affection for the man whose insecurities mirrored yours.

[ohmyburningdreams]

On Top of the World

Fanfic

Ch 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Chapter Thirteen

× Lucy

Lucy's eyes fluttered open, a slight headache pounding in the back of her head as she blinked at the bright morning light streaming in through the windows.

She turned away, seeking darkness again, and found Natsu's face mere inches from her own. She wasn't surprised, if she had to be honest. They'd spent every night together when they were kids.

She blushed as she studied him, her eyes trailing down over his muscular physique; he definitely wasn't a kid anymore.

They'd talked late into the night, sharing stories from their lives apart. She'd quickly realised that Natsu's life had been far more pleasant than her own, filled with love and laughter and surrounded by family and friends.

Lucy had found herself slightly intimidated, self-consciously wondering what she'd be able to bring to his life, other than the hurt and sadness she'd experienced, and the years spent secretly pining for the best friend who hadn't even recognised her.

She hadn't been drunk, but she hadn't been sober either, and she was embarrassed about the way she'd reacted and had run from the party. She wondered if she should have let it play out, in front of everyone, so they could see for themselves that everything was okay, that she wasn't as broken as she actually felt.

She wanted to stay in bed and wait until the whole thing blew over, but she didn't think she could deal with the looks of pity that she knew were going to be on everyone's faces. Though, staying in bed also meant being there when Natsu woke up, and she wasn't sure she could deal with that either.

She slipped out from beneath his arm, which was slung over her waist, holding her close. She still wore her dress from the night before, the seams of the material sitting uncomfortably against her skin.

Silently, she took some clothes from her wardrobe and pulled her dress over her head, her back to the sleeping pinkette.

She didn't see his eyes open, squinting as he tried to focus. He watched her for a second before he realised what he was seeing, and turned away, giving her privacy.

Lucy heard him shifting and quickly pulled her clothes on, looking over her shoulder to see him still sleeping in her bed, now facing the other direction.

Collecting a towel and some toiletries, as well as the rest of the clean clothes she needed, she quietly left the room, making her way to the baths. She needed to scrub the previous night from her skin.

She walked quickly, hoping to avoid people. It was still early morning, and after the party the night before, she didn't expect many to be up and about, but she kept her eyes on the walkway, clutching her stuff to her chest, and hoped nobody would try and talk to her anyway.

After pulling her clothes off again, she stepped into the water and sighed, sinking into the warmth, just like always. Baths were one of her favourite things, having discovered just how good they were when she'd arrived at Fairy Tail.

Whenever she'd had a particularly hard or anxious day, soaking in the hot water always seemed to help.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the edge of the pool, focusing on her breathing.

Then a voice interrupted her peace, "Lucy," it said, in greeting.

Her eyes snapped open as she looked around, realising she wasn't alone in the water. Red hair, shining in the glow of the mining lights, caught her attention.

She tilted her head, "you're Erza, right?" She asked. Natsu had told her about his friends.

Nodding, Erza moved closer, "are you okay? After last night?"

Lucy studied her, unable to read the expression on the other girl's face, before she said, "I'm okay. Embarrassed, though."

Erza smiled gently, "you don't need to be. Natsu can sometimes be… Dense, for lack of a better word."

Looking down at the water before her, Lucy didn't really know how to answer.

"At the last village we were at, there was a blonde girl that Natsu mistook for you. She looked rather like you, in fact, and when he realised she was someone else, he was quite disappointed. He spent the next week in a bad mood," Erza said quietly.

"He told me," she replied, letting silence fall between them.

After a few moments of thought, she sighed, then shrugged and added, "it's not so much that he didn't recognise me. It's that I've waited for most of my life to see him again, like it'd be this big moment that I've looked forward to for so long. But it doesn't feel like it was the same for him," her voice came out barely above a whisper.

She wasn't sure why, but she found it easy to open up to Erza, who was a complete stranger to her.

"You know," Erza said, leaning back against the edge next to her, "I could probably re-tell you all the stories he's shared of you two, from when you were younger. He's told them that many times…"

Lucy smiled, watching the lights' reflections dance on the surface of the water.

"He cares about you a great deal. He just doesn't always think before he acts."

"I just… He's had this great life here, with family and friends. I was so lonely at the Estate, just waiting for the day I saw him and his family again. It was the only thing I had to look forward to and, I don't know... I don't feel like I'm that important to him, but I think that's my fault for not really having realistic expectations to begin with," she sighed.

Erza looked at her very seriously, "you're important to him, Lucy. Pay attention to his actions over his words, and he'll show you how much you mean, just give him some time. His friends are family to him, and I fully believe that had his father not gone missing, he would have gone to get you the moment Master Makarov gave him permission to leave Fairy Tail."

Lucy glanced up at Erza, hope blooming inside her, "you think so?"

A smile appeared on the red head's face, "I know so. That was always his plan, and he's never let any of us here forget it. We all know you far better than you know us, and that's because he's spent years talking about you, to the point that you feel like an old friend."

Before Lucy knew what was happening, Erza had spun around to face her and was dragging her into a rather violent hug, causing her to squeak in surprise.

"Also, you may find that Natsu will have to deal with a lot of roasting from his friends over this."

Lucy laughed, "thank you, Erza," she said softly.

- : -

"Hey Mira," Lucy smiled awkwardly as she entered the kitchen, avoiding eye contact with her as she began dropping her things in an unused corner of the room.

Mira pulled her into a hug as she asked, "Lucy, what are you doing here so early? You could have taken the morning off if you needed to."

The unspoken words hung heavy in the air between them, after last night. And not because of the party.

Lucy shook her head, "no, I'd rather be busy if that's okay."

Mira watched Lucy for a moment, realising the blonde probably wasn't up to discussing the events of the night before, then nodded her head with a smile and went back to the breakfast preparations.

"You can do the fruit," Mira smiled over her shoulder.

Lucy got to work.

An hour later, people had started filtering in for breakfast, a fair amount of them looking the worse for wear and hung over.

She kept her head down, trying to avoid eye contact with just about everyone, even Levy, who followed Lucy with her eyes everywhere she went.

Towards the end of her shift, Natsu, Gray and Erza appeared, as well as Juvia and Gajeel, squeezing in around the table, as they sat with Levy, Cana, and Wendy.

I should've known breakfast would be different with Team Natsu back, she thought as she walked over to them, carrying a full tray of food.

Lucy glanced up, only to find Natsu watching her, his green eyes locked onto her as she moved about the room. She quickly looked away, doing her best to keep her expression neutral, and pretended to focus on the tray in her hand.

Placing his food in front of him, she ignored his burning gaze and walked back to the kitchen, picking up the tray of dirty dishes as she went.

She knew things were awkward, that everyone was curious about what had happened after Natsu had gone to find her, but she didn't know how to talk about it. She felt silly and embarrassed, and really didn't want to draw any more attention than she was getting by just being there, doing her job.

She put it off for as long as she could, but when breakfast was over, she didn't have much other choice but to follow Mira and Lisanna to the table. It seemed that they'd all left the seat beside Natsu free for her to take and she groaned inwardly as she sat and began munching on her toast and strawberry jam.

Natsu, Erza, and Gray were busy telling stories from their time on the ground, and Lucy quietly listened, happy for the distraction and the lack of attention focused on her.

She felt incredibly awkward, sitting next to a Natsu that she’d realised she barely even knew. She was going to have to talk to him at some point, especially if she wanted to rekindle their friendship, but for now, she just didn’t know what to say to him.

Lucy almost choked on her breakfast when Natsu mentioned that he'd been given a kitten. A kitten of a very specific colour.

She turned her head to look at him, wide eyed, "did you just say… A blue kitten?" She asked, slowly, not sure she'd heard correctly.

Natsu grinned back at her, happy that she'd remembered, "yep! Wanna come meet him?"

Lucy thought about her answer, "I think I'd like that," she decided.

"C'mon!" He said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her from her seat.

"Natsu!" She cried as they flew from the room, to the laughter of their friends, "if I knew you still had this habit, I would've sat at the other side of the table!"

Natsu only cackled with glee as he dragged her down from the cliff's walkways to the wooden one lined with houses.

They stopped a few steps from her own house and she looked at him, confused, "why are we outside my house?"

She was suddenly nervous, hoping that he hadn't decided to move in with her.

"Not your house, my house," he replied, turning her to face the house next to hers.

Lucy gulped, "we live next door to each other again?! You don't live with your family?"

She'd been to visit the Dragneels many times since she'd arrived, and knew that wasn't where they lived.

"Nope! Moved out when we started training to go look for Igneel. My family lives inside the cliff… I didn't like living there much."

"Oh.." was all Lucy said as she looked up at the orange house, unsure what else to say.

"They chose a cliff house to stop me climbing through the trees and running away, back to you. That's also why all the trees outside Fairy Tail are stripped of branches…"

Lucy laughed, "that was because of you? I thought they did that to stop outsiders from getting in."

Looking sheepish, Natsu replied, "it came in handy for that too."

Inside, the layout was much the same as her house, but with three bedrooms on the second floor instead of two.

Natsu led her to the top of the stairs and over to the room in the back left corner, opening the door to let her inside.

The room was dark as he stepped around her, his hand brushing her back in the dim light. It smelled the same as his room at the Estate had done, and Lucy almost sighed as she breathed the familiar scent in.

His room was a mess, just as it had always been when he was younger. There were bits and pieces tacked to the walls, and random piles of clutter all around the room, but Lucy knew that Natsu only kept the things that really mattered to him, the small mementos of his life.

She was surprised to see not one, but two, of her old hair ribbons amongst the items hanging from his wall, and she glanced at him with a small smile, watching as he dropped down to look for the cat beneath his bed.

Her smile grew at the sight of his unmade covers and what looked like half his clothes, laying thrown about wherever he'd decided to take them off; this was the Natsu she knew.

She went over to the window and, throwing the curtains open, realised that his room looked straight into hers. She almost laughed when she noticed there was even a long tree limb that'd be perfect for moving between their houses, just like the one they'd used as kids.

She slowly shook her head, her smile still in place, and muttered to herself, "Master Makarov knew what he was doing when he gave us the keys to the house next door. No wonder he looked so pleased with himself."

"Yeah, the old man is pretty sneaky," Natsu replied, only half paying attention as he tried to coax Happy out from under the bed.

Lucy crouched down beside him.

The moment Happy poked his head out, Lucy gasped at the sight of him; he wasn't the blue she'd expected. His fur was a richer blue than the sky above, his chest and paws white, like clouds floating through it.

Natsu smiled at her reaction and picked Happy up, "weird, right?"

Reaching out to run her hand over the kitten's fur, she said, "no wings, though," glancing up at Natsu with a smile.

"You never know, he might grow some when he's older," he grinned, holding Happy out to her.

She cradled the kitten against her chest, scratching behind a blue ear as he purred, "you are pretty cute, aren't you?" She cooed at it.

Natsu stood and looked around his room, "sorry it's such a mess in here…"

Lucy stood up beside him, handing Happy back to him as she said, "that reminds me... I'll be right back."

She walked back over to the window, lifting it and slipping out.

Natsu watched her with a frown, before he realised what she was doing. His face paled as he shot forward and grabbed her hand, "what are you doing? You could fall!"

Lucy rolled her eyes, "Natsu, I'm not five years old anymore. Don't worry, okay? I'll be back in a second."

She gently tugged her hand from his grip, with a smile, and walked across the branch to her own window, which was still half open from the night before. She pushed it up, disappearing inside.

Opening a drawer in her dresser, she pulled out Natsu's scarf and the hand-drawn picture of her, Natsu and her mum, the most important things that she'd brought with her to Fairy Tail.

She wrapped the scarf around her neck and ducked back out her window. She walked back over to Natsu's room, looking down at the picture as she went, walking along the sturdy limb without thinking twice about the drop below.

The moment she slipped back into his room, Natsu pulled her further from the window, his grip tight, as he sternly said her name, "Lucy."

She let the picture flutter to the floor, careful not to step on it as he pulled her close to him, looking as though he'd feared for her life.

"Uh… Yes?" She peered up at him, confused by the tone he'd used.

"What were you thinking? There aren't any nets here."

Lucy pulled back and huffed, narrowing her eyes at him, a little annoyed, "are you serious? You don't think I learned to run through the trees, the same way you did?"

Natsu stared down at her, "...Did you?"

"Of course I did! Someone told me in a letter that I should keep learning because it'd be useful when we ran away together," she looked away from him, her voice dropping to a whisper at the end.

She stepped back and unwound his scarf from her neck, silently holding it out to him.

It was clear he hadn't even noticed the garment until she took it off, because his eyes dropped down to look at it, going wide as he realised what it was.

Taking it, and sitting on the edge of his bed, he held it gently, "I'd forgotten all about this. My dad gave this to me…"

Lucy nodded, "you asked me to keep it safe. So, I did."

Whatever went through Natsu's mind at that moment, contorted his face into an odd mixture of expressions that Lucy had trouble deciphering.

He surprised her when he looked up and quietly said, "you really never gave up hope that I'd come back, huh?"

Lucy raised an eyebrow, "no," she replied, the hurt she'd felt the night before, twisting its way into her tone.

Natsu watched her for a moment, still gripping his scarf, before he stood up and crossed the room in two strides. He took her hands in his and dipped his head, resting his forehead against hers, and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Lucy," he whispered, "I'm sorry I didn't come for you after I promised to. And I'm sorry about last night, I should have recognised you, and I should have made sure you were you, instead of trying not to look at you in case you weren't."

Lucy wasn't really sure what to make of that apology. She knew what he meant, but she didn't want to say it was okay, because it wasn't and it had hurt. While they’d talked about it the night before, he hadn’t actually apologised until now.

Instead, she softly said, "Natsu, do you want me here as much as I want to be here?"

Natsu's eyes opened and laughed, "do you really not know the answer to that?"

"To be honest, after last night, I'm not so sure…"

"I want you here, Luce," he smiled, searching her eyes, silently begging her to believe him.

Lucy smiled back, unable to help herself.

× Natsu

When Lucy had disappeared without a word that morning, Natsu lay in her bed for a while, thinking.

When he used to think about eventually reuniting with her, he'd never expected it to go the way it had the night before. He groaned when he thought about how it must have felt for her when he’d not even recognised her, and then ignored her.

He knew he had to apologise properly to her, especially since all he'd done the night before was explain why he'd done it, rather than say he was sorry for doing it.

Lucy had obviously found it awkward, waking up next to him, as well. Though he hadn't intended to sleep there, he'd only felt peace and comfort when he'd woken in the early hours to find them cuddled together the way they used to sleep as children. He thought he'd had the best sleep of his life after beginning his training with Gildarts, months ago, but he hadn't slept quite as well as he had with Lucy, the night before.

He tried to imagine what life had been like for her, without him, without any other children, and then without anyone at all after her mother had died. His heart hurt when he realised how lonely she must have been.

He'd been horrified when she'd told him small pieces of her life without him in it, and he'd silently made a promise to himself, to always be together from then on, to make sure she always had him, if no one else.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got, and it was an anger he didn't know what to do with. If he'd known how awful her life would be, he would have fought harder to get back to her, he would have died trying, even at six years old.

Even when they were so much younger, Lucy was his family, and she always would be. They shared something he'd never experienced with anyone else, something he'd never even seen other people share. Even Igneel used to tell him that he and Lucy would always be together, and he knew that his father would want him to look after Lucy, even now, as they grew into adults.

From what Lucy had told him, she'd been spending some of her spare time with his mum and siblings, while he was gone. He was glad she had them, especially knowing how much she missed her own family. He was also glad his family had her, someone to focus on besides each other, while he was out searching for his father.

Natsu frowned as he stared up at Lucy's ceiling, suddenly realising that he'd be leaving again soon. They had to pick up the leads they'd temporarily abandoned, and see if the shadow trapper's trail could somehow reveal Igneel's whereabouts.

He wasn't going to ask Lucy to go with them, because the last place he wanted her to be was back on the ground. He knew he could probably protect her, but he wasn't going to take that chance. It didn't occur to him that Lucy might be capable enough to protect herself.

He figured she'd want to stay at Fairy Tail anyway, and continue her lessons with Capricorn while she figured out what she wanted from life and the newfound freedom she'd gained.

Sighing, he got up and left her house, climbing back out the window and in through his own across from it. He grabbed his things and went to leave for the baths, having been unable to get there the night before.

As he left his bedroom, he bumped into Gray on the stairs, who raised his eyebrow and sent him a questioning look, silently asking about what had happened with Lucy.

Natsu sighed, and said, “I fucked up.”

“She seemed pretty upset, man.”

“She was,” he replied quietly, not looking at his raven haired friend, staring at the blank wall across from him instead.

“What even happened? You just walked right past her,” Gray continued to watch him, shoving his hands into his pockets.

As usual, he wasn’t wearing a shirt, which was a common occurrence inside their home, and Natsu and Erza counted themselves lucky that he at least kept underwear on when he walked around the place.

Shrugging, Natsu took a slow breath and said, “I didn’t recognise her, I didn’t even look at her for more than a split second, and then ignored her because I didn’t want to be disappointed if she turned out to be someone else…”

“What? Were you afraid the same thing would happen, like with the blonde from the village?”

“Yeah. I tried to explain that to her, but I don't think it was enough,” the sadness was evident in his voice as he dropped his eyes to look down at his feet.

Gray sighed, “Juvia would kill me if I did that to her.”

“She’s been through some heavy stuff,” Natsu continued as though he hadn't even heard Gray’s reply. He didn’t want to spill all of her secrets, but he wanted to stress how hard her life had been. He decided to mention only two facts that he knew she’d already told others.

Leaning back against the wall, Gray tilted his head, waiting for Natsu to continue.

“She grew up alone, without anyone after her mum died. She spent so many years with no one at all, just waiting to see me again… And I didn’t recognise her, then ignored her on top of it,” his voice was soft, and filled with the shame he felt.

“Hmm,” Gray hummed as he thought over Natsu’s words, “you’ve gotta fix it somehow…”

Natsu shot him a glare, “I know that. I just don't know how, other than apologising.”

“Did you apologise?”

Shifting against the wall, Natsu suddenly felt very uncomfortable, “not yet,” he said, averting his eyes.

Gray sighed, “what the hell, Natsu! Go apologise. But do it well, don’t just blurt it out.”

The pinkette almost growled at his friend, “I’m plannin’ on it.”

Holding his hands up, Gray backed off, turning towards his own room, “I’m just sayin’, don’t leave it. It will get worse if you do.”

Natsu didn't reply, sighing again as he walked down the stairs and outside.

He didn't spend long in the baths, quickly cleaning himself up before he got dressed and headed towards his parents' house, situated amongst the highest corridors inside the cliff.

He didn't bother knocking as he entered, yelling out, "yo!" Instead.

"Natsu!" Wendy rushed over to hug him, still in her pyjamas, "are you here to tell us what you found on the ground?"

"Yep! And do I have a story for you," he laughed.

"Natsu, I'm so glad you're home. Is everything okay with you and Lucy?" Grandeney asked, walking over to hug him.

"Not yet. But I'm working on it," he said softly, hugging her back. He thought that was an odd question to ask after not seeing him for months, assuming she'd ask about his dad first. He pushed that thought away; Lucy was family too.

Grandeney only nodded and let go, moving to sit down on the couch beside Wendy.

Zeref wandered out of his bedroom and gave his brother a curt nod, "Natsu."

Natsu only raised a brow and replied, "Zeref."

He and his older brother weren't exactly close, each being almost the complete opposite of the other. Where Zeref was quiet and thoughtful, Natsu was loud and ran on instinct. Where Zeref valued facts and knowledge, Natsu valued emotions and strength. As a result, the two never had much in common.

Natsu sat down with his family and spent the next hour updating them on the search for Igneel and telling them about the incident with the shadow trapper. He'd never seen the colour drain from his mother's face so fast in his entire life. He smiled reassuringly at her, letting her know that stuff like that was why he'd trained so hard before leaving and what he would always throw everything he had against to survive.

Grandeney listened quietly, and Natsu struggled to get a read on her thoughts and emotions and he found himself wishing that she'd just open up, but he knew his mother, and he knew that she was trying hard to remain strong for her family.

As usual, Zeref had no questions and nothing to add, while Wendy had every question that he was sure was possible, given what he'd revealed. He did his best to answer them all, the pair eventually walking to the dining hall, where they met up with their friends at their usual tables to have breakfast.

While he wasn't close with his brother, he was much closer with his little sister, the two having always had a strong bond between them. She was shy and inquisitive and relied on her emotions and instincts the way he did, but still valued knowledge and facts, like Zeref.

As Natsu sat at the table, he watched Lucy come out of the kitchen with a tray full of food and hesitantly lock eyes with him, for only a second, before looking away. She refused to meet his gaze until she was done with serving breakfast and had sat down at the table beside him. He knew it was going to be a long day.

He was determined, however, to make things right between them. He'd been shocked and amazed to finally see her again, to see the person she'd become, nearly all grown up, and he found himself liking her just as much as he had when they were younger. He knew he still had a lot to learn about her, though.

After breakfast, and after he'd dragged Lucy off to meet Happy, Team Natsu and Gildarts met at Makarov's office to update him properly on everything that happened while they were away.

The old man had nodded along as he wrote notes to look over later, when he was alone. They told him about Warrod, about the village and the shadow trapper, and how they planned to follow up on it and figure out how it had gotten inside the village walls, hoping they might find some sort of clue that pointed towards Igneel along the way. He was happy with their plan and signed off on it. They were to leave again two weeks later.

During those two weeks, they were to work jobs around the town, contributing like most other residents. All of them, including Gildarts, were to be added to the rotation of the guards set up around Fairy Tail's boundaries.

Natsu, correctly, assumed that the extra guards posted around the place were there because of the threat Lucy's father posed. They didn't have a sure way to know how big that threat was, but Makarov would rather not underestimate the man and whatever connections he was making.

While Lucy herself had told Natsu about her father and the deal he'd tried to trade her in, Makarov had gained her permission to tell the rest of his team.

While they were shocked, all eyes turning towards him as he nodded, his jaw tense, they understood that keeping Lucy safe was the priority. She was part of Fairy Tail now, and that meant she was family and had to be protected.

They would do their best to keep her out of her father's clutches.

- : -

Natsu's first few shifts on guard duty had been boring, the time dragging by as he roamed through the trees outside of the town.

Nobody had asked for entry into Fairy Tail, and he was itching for something interesting to happen. He hated waiting around for anything, preferring to be taking action instead.

Between his shifts and Lucy's classes, as well as her breakfast shift, he'd barely seen her in the last four days, which only made him more irritable. He hadn't tried to slip into her room at night, the way he used to when he was younger, realising that after their awkward morning, she probably needed space.

Which also meant that he hadn't had a chance to talk to her about Team Natsu leaving again. He knew he had to, he didn't want to repeat the same thing that'd happened when they were little and he'd failed to tell her that his family was leaving the Estate.

Natsu leaned against the trunk of a tree, standing half way up, between the ground and Fairy Tail, on a thick branch. He huffed as he folded his arms against his chest, staring down at the gates. He could see Gray where he sat in one of two small watch towers, staring out at the path that led away into the forest.

He wasn't sure how Gray could stand it, sitting there for hours on end, doing nothing. His eyes were still on his friend as Juvia appeared, walking up the stairs, to sit in the seat beside him.

He was so focused on Gray and Juvia that he didn't notice the scuff of a shoe against bark somewhere behind him.

After a few seconds, he sighed and turned, intending to walk along the branch towards the next tree. Instead, he almost fell off the limb, wobbling, as he tried to regain his balance.

"What the…?! Lucy!"

Lucy laughed and grabbed one of his hands, steadying him.

"Hey," she snickered, covering her mouth with her free hand.

Natsu glared back at her, "where'd you even come from? You scared the hell out of me."

"I'm surprised you didn't hear me, with the noise I was making. Here, I brought you lunch," she said, dropping a bag at his feet.

"Oh, uh… Thanks," he smiled, his expression softening. He crouched down to rifle through it, pulling items out to eat.

Lucy smiled back and turned to leave, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear as she did.

"Hey, why don't you stay a while? It's pretty lonely up here..."

She watched him for a moment, before dropping down to sit on the branch, her legs dangling over the side.

Natsu sat beside her, biting into an apple. With a full mouth, he said, "Team Natsu has to leave again soon," watching her from the corner of his eye.

"Oh yeah? Where are you off to, this time?" She idly swung her legs, staring out at the forest before them.

Natsu raised a brow. She was taking it a lot better than he'd expected she would.

"We're gonna follow up on the last of the leads we got from the village, after the shadow trapper," his tone was soft, almost apologetic.

Lucy looked down and nodded, "that makes sense. How long will you be gone?"

"Makarov gave us another three months, but it depends on what we find. I'm hoping we come across a clue to help us find my dad."

Without saying anything, Lucy leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

Natsu tensed, surprised, before he moved an arm around her back, planting his hand on the branch by her hip.

"You'll find him, Natsu. I know you will."

"Thanks, Luce. I won't give up until I do."

The gentle rustling of leaves filled the silence that fell between them, the breeze moving through the trees in the forest.

It was a nice day, with a clear blue sky and lots of sunlight peeking through the canopies around them. The ground below, at the gates, was a bit gloomy, but not as dark as it was in winter when the ground was slick with mud and a lantern was needed to see.

After a while of sitting in silence, Natsu turned to her, "I have something to ask you, and you can say 'no', if you want…"

Lucy lifted her eyes to look at him, waiting. He could see the curiosity in the expression on her face. He searched her eyes, recognising a little bit of hope in her gaze, and wondered if there was something specific she wanted him to ask her.

"Will you look after Happy while I'm gone? It doesn't make much sense to take him with us."

Lucy frowned, looking as if she was about to laugh, but she nodded her head and said, "I'd be happy to, Natsu."

He grinned at her and opened his mouth to thank her, when a sudden shout from the ground captured their attention and they both dropped their gaze to the forest floor.

A group of people had arrived at the gate, and were talking to Fairy Tail's guards. Something about the way they stood seemed off, as though they were on the offensive before they were even given a decision about whether they could enter or not.

Natsu stood, pulling Lucy to her feet beside him, before he slung the bag over his shoulder and started moving through the trees to get a better look at the group.

Lucy followed him, though she made no noise as she moved, and he had to keep checking over his shoulder to make sure she was still there. They wove through the trees until they could clearly see the faces of the people outside the gates.

Natsu turned to Lucy, about to ask if she recognised any of them, only to find her frozen in place, staring at the people with mixed expressions of shock and horror on her face.

That look was all it took for a growl to rise from Natsu's chest, a low rumble of anger coming from him. From their vantage point, closer to the gates, he managed to catch Gray's eye, the murderous expression on his face enough to tell his friend not to let the group enter the village.

He watched as Gray turned to a senior member of the guard and started a conversation, inclining his head in their direction as he spoke.

The group began to shout and yell, obviously displeased at being denied entry into the village. Guards converged along the top of the wall, focusing all of their attention down onto the party trying to get inside.

Natsu turned towards Lucy again, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder to bring her back to the present and out of whatever was happening inside her head, "we gotta get you back inside Fairy Tail," he muttered.

"Not so fast," came a voice from behind them.

They both spun around, caught by surprise, as Natsu moved to stand in front of Lucy, his right arm outstretched in a protective way.

He glared at the stranger, anger bubbling up inside him, but before he could say anything, Lucy gasped behind him. She twisted a hand into the back of his shirt, stepping closer to him.

"The people at the gate, they were just a distraction," she said quietly, suddenly understanding what was happening, "you waited until I showed myself..."

The man before them folded his arms across his chest, standing easily on the branch, "very good, Lucy," he said with a sickly smile, "he said you were bright. Though, it wasn't so smart to give away your position just now."

Natsu narrowed his eyes, the man's expression was full of darkness and danger and gave him the feeling that he should keep Lucy well away from the guy.

"Natsu," Lucy frantically whispered from behind him, "that's the man my dad was going to trade me to."

Natsu bared his teeth.

× Next chapter

[janamelie]

Dimension Jump XXI Report

I suppose I’m a DJ veteran now as this was my fifth consecutive one and the fourth at the Nottingham Crowne Plaza which is an expensive four-star hotel.  Sharing with a friend helps keep the cost reasonable and honestly, it’s worth it for the sheer convenience of being right there in the hotel and being able to nip back to your room as required.  (To be clear, you don’t have to stay in the hotel to attend the con.  There are plenty of other hotels nearby.)

Plus there is always the chance that you’ll see a guest at breakfast as I did Danny once.  He picked out a few pieces of fruit and nibbled at them before wandering over late to his photoshoot.  What else would you expect from a cat though?

Friday

Myself and @downonthepharm-red-dwarf (Amy) had arrived the previous day so had plenty of time to be near the front of the queue for registration.  Which meant we saw Hattie Hayridge arrive in a stunning designer coat and with smart luggage.  She really brought her outfit A-game and looked great the whole weekend.

Once we’d presented our respective proofs of full Covid vaccination or a recent negative test, we were given our DJ passes and booklets.  The latter has spaces for signatures from guests, an Order Of Events and various handy tips for the weekend.

The con kicks off at 5pm with an hour of gradual build-up in the Main Hall - they show videos from previous events, specially made titbits with various guests past and present such as Mark Dexter doing a mock guide to DJ and Rebecca Blackstone voicing Pree.  It all helps with the atmosphere, as do the numerous RD posters dotted around the hotel.

Then it was time for the Opening Ceremony featuring various Fan Club team members and an overcrowded stage full of cardboard boxes - the joke was that they’d had too much time on their hands during lockdowns and bought loads of stuff online.  It was obviously also a nod to Lister’s hoarding in “The Promised Land”.  

The sketch featured a specially made shot of the AA adverts’ Starbug model landing outside the Crowne Plaza and an 80s computerised version of the lovely convention logo.  You could tell a lot of loving effort had gone into the whole thing.

Once the guest line-up had been announced (I’ll get to that not-really-a-surprise-guest shortly), we went straight into the RD Pub Quiz, hosted by Hattie.  DOTP and I had been joined at our table by Lapsang and Barbs from our Discord (No Kind Of Atmosphere) plus various other attendees we’d befriended.

Someone in the crowd yelled “I love you, Hattie!” to which she quipped “I’ve pulled already!”  Another bloke shouted “Fuck off, she’s mine!” which led to a few shouts of “Fight!”  When neither seemed keen to do so, Hattie joked: “Only two?  That’s a bit pathetic!” and then we got started.

The quiz is hard, by design, but I’m good at quizzes and my team - No Kind Of Atmosphere after our Discord - came joint third which was gratifying.  (I was on the winning team a few DJs ago, to blow my own trumpet for a moment.  This is my report, after all.)

And then it was time for the first guest Q&A with - surprise, surprise - Johnny Vegas aka the Crit Cop in “Timewave”.  Not a great episode but he more than made up for that with an appearance I can only describe as chaotic.  Warning - DO NOT attempt to heckle him unless you want to be singled out and humiliated in front of the entire audience in a “Can’t look away” fashion which was nonetheless entertaining.  The man in question tweeted about it afterwards and seems to have taken it in good spirit.

Once we’d moved on from encouraging people to leave unpleasant things in room 429, it turned out Johnny’s a big fan of the show and owned it on VHS (so did I).  He thinks of the main characters, Holly would win at “Taskmaster” and had good reasons for that conclusion.  

He was dubious about the pink costume he wore in “Timewave” as he thought it might take away from the character but said he eventually decided he needed to get over what he was wearing and just go for it.  He also said one of his worst working moments was on “Benidorm” when he had to hold his breath underwater in a freezing swimming pool and his co-star kept forgetting her two lines so they had over 30 takes.  Ouch.

Johnny left commenting that he got less love at his 50th birthday party.  But we hadn’t seen the last of him by any means as people kept buying him drinks during the Auction, leading to him successfully bidding for one of the items on offer.

And then he was back for the Karaoke.  Now if you - as he informed us - had to undergo emergency dental surgery in the morning and had practically lost your voice, would you sing karaoke?  And not only that, would you sing a version of “Love On The Rocks” which lasted 11 minutes according to someone on Twitter (I wasn’t timing it, but I can believe it), followed by the full-length version of “American Pie”?

If you answered no, you’re clearly not Johnny Vegas.  He went to bed so late that the unfortunate Fan Club team member assigned to look after him got a grand total of 90 minutes’ sleep.

Saturday

DOTP and I had paid for the Photoshoot with Mr Vegas, Danny John-Jules and Ray Fearon.  We got in the queue at 9am which was when it was supposed to start.  An hour later we were still waiting.  Yep, Danny was late.

Once he made it to the hotel, I got my photo in front of a Science Room backdrop.  You might think Mr Vegas would be hungover and rushing through it, but on the contrary, he was still enjoying the hell out of proceedings which was refreshing to see.  Since he’d been added to the line-up too late to be in the souvenir booklet, he signed extra inserts for the Fan Club which they handed out to everyone at the later Autograph sessions so attendees got his autograph after all even though he’d finally left.  That’s what I call throwing yourself into an event.

Next up was a combined Q&A with Danny and Ray (originally separate but Danny’s lateness meant they were teamed up).  This wasn’t a problem at all though - on the contrary, it worked really well as the chumminess between them added to the vibe.  Also it was Ray’s first convention so he probably preferred to have Danny backing him up, especially since the poor man tripped on his way to the stage and almost fell.  I don’t think he was hurt but I cringed with secondhand embarrassment and empathy.  He wasn’t the only one to fall foul of the edge of the stage that weekend; I think it was the slightly raised dancefloor in front of it.

As is usual for Danny, we were treated to over half an hour of what you can only really describe as a stream of consciousness as he pontificated about various things.  He and Ray did also talk about working together on “Death In Paradise” and Ray described his worst working experience there - he had to play a scene in a club in 45 degree heat with a live snake wrapped around his neck!

Ray is attractive in a “Hollywood hunk” way and Danny was clearly conscious of this, joking that he’d “brought his own security with him” and muttering “I’m better-looking anyway!”  But all in a jokey way as they’re clearly friends.

Danny had come from filming and dropped a heavy hint that he’s appearing in a Dickens adaptation which I imagine will be shown at Christmas as they generally are.  He also complained that Craig Charles never answers his phone: “You send him a message and he answers it on Twitter a month later!”  (Interestingly, Chris Barrie later mentioned a recent phone conversation with Craig so make of that what you will.)

Ray was quieter but happy to talk about the vagaries of showbiz and typecasting - he said that due to his Shakespearean background he gets a lot of serious roles so people were genuinely surprised that he could also do comedy but “I was always funny!”  He also gently teased Danny about the age of some of his references before admitting he still finds Tommy Cooper funny.

Danny usually performs “Tongue-tied” with a good grace when inevitably asked to by an audience member but perhaps it’s finally starting to pall as this time he did it in the style of Oliver Reed’s Bill Sykes and included a lot of X-rated references to cunnilingus etc.  It was entertaining though.

Next up was a live Q&A (over Zoom) with Chris Barrie.  Danny decided to stick around as he wanted to show Chris something he’d ordered online.  It took a while to get the cameras in the right position for Chris to be able to see it and Danny needed a knife to open the parcel, leading Chris to quip “Is this a good time for me to step out for some lunch?”

However, it turned out to be worth it as it was a custom-made Ace Rimmer doll which impressed Chris with its quality and he complimented the maker.

Danny and Ray then departed for their lunch and to take part in the Coffee Lounge which this year had reduced its numbers for Covid-related reasons and held a ballot for entry in the interests of fairness.  Amy and I didn’t get in but happily stayed for the rest of Chris’s Q&A.

In the “working from home” spirit, Chris was in a hoodie in his living room as opposed to his more usual smart suit.  He was suitably relaxed and revealed he got through lockdown by concentrating on the things which make him happy, such as his hobbies, his garden and his family.  His favourite episodes are “Marooned”, “Dimension Jump” and - less predictably - “Twentica”.  He also referred to a recent “mannerly, as he would call it” phone conversation with Craig.  No details but it had clearly been a positive experience.

Amy decided to liven up the ending of his Q&A by asking a vitally important, “TPL”-related question.  Whom would Rimmer find more attractive, a female version of Lister or a female version of Cat?

Once the laughter had died down and Chris had bought some time by pointing out that “neither of them are women”, he gave the question appropriate consideration.  He pondered whether Rimmer would be more taken by the “simple charms” of Lister or the “feline grace” of Cat.  This next bit is courtesy of Amy as my memory isn’t infallible: He said it’d be a choice between a feline form or a rounder, a bit more slovenly woman - he wouldn’t want the perfectly feline woman because she might not like his imperfections, but he also wouldn’t want someone who ate curry three times a day.  “Basically, a balance would be ideal.”

That was the last question but Chris provided a little more entertainment as he had a “How do you turn this off then?” moment a la Gordon the computer in “Better Than Life” and made amusing faces as he figured it out.  If it was anyone but Chris I’d think it was a deliberate reference to that but I think he was genuinely befuddled.

We then broke for lunch, followed by Autographs with Hattie, Danny, Ray and Norman Lovett.  I got the latter three to sign the “TPL” poster I’d brought with me but gave Hattie the booklet instead as it seemed more tactful.  She complimented the dress I was wearing and I returned the compliment, telling her how much the fans appreciate the effort she makes with her DJ outfits.

Norman commented how there’s a version of the “TPL” poster he isn’t on, bemusedly.  Fortunately mine was the version including him. 

I spent the rest of the afternoon chilling in the bar with Amy, Lapsang and Barbs, chatting to other attendees.  Graphic Designer Matthew Clark was now in the Merchandise Room with various props from Series XII and “TPL” including the Starbug manual used onscreen.  I got his autograph on my poster but it’s an incomprehensible squiggle.  Oh well.  He was very friendly and easy to talk to.

After a break for dinner, the Main Hall reopened for the Costume Competition.  This seems to get better every DJ, with an amazing “Greyscale Rimmer” who was discomfiting to be around due to the corpse-like makeup, a Natalina Pushkin, a Nirvanah Crane who could almost have been Jane Horrocks herself and a Diving Suit Cat from “BTE”.  Other entries included Rimmer’s Mum, “Giraffes who were armed and dangerous” and a Confidence And Paranoia who were later pictured at the bar chatting to Paranoia himself, Lee Cornes.

We then had a special video message from Doug Naylor which I won’t go into as I’m sure everyone’s already heard the details.  Suffice to say, his tone was positive.

The second Auction was hosted by Ian Boldsworth who made it more entertaining by adding his own commentary to each item.  This was followed by a stand-up set from Norman.  It was amusing but he misjudged the mood a bit, I feel.  When you’re waiting for a disco to start and it’s already hours late due to Danny’s tardiness, you don’t particularly want to contemplate your own mortality.  We were here to get away from all that, as much as possible.

Anyway, the Disco was a lot of fun even if Dave Benson Phillips’ presence as host was sorely missed.  Hattie danced for the best part of an hour alongside everyone else.  The stand-in DJs did their job and I stayed until the end.  The final two songs were “Bohemian Rhapsody” and … “Tongue-tied”.

Sunday

Not being in the Sunday Photoshoot, Amy and I had a nice leisurely breakfast and got over last night’s festivities before the first Q&A, live over Zoom with Robert Llewellyn.

This was hosted by Ian Boldsworth who in his capacity as Dave era audience warm-up knows Robert well.  Clearly well enough to get away with teasing him relentlessly about not being at the con in person until poor Robert was a mess of Krytenesque guilt.  

His protestations that he’d been scheduled to be in Munich this weekend but no longer was (he was at home) only made things worse.  Ian: “Oh, so that’s two sets of people you’ve disappointed now!  Stop saying yes to things!”  It was hilarious and Robert took it in its intended spirit.  Also Ian was getting a measure of revenge for Robert - in character as Kryten - dry humping him at recordings.  One attendee asked “With the groinal attachment?!”

Robert admitted that he finds Kryten’s various groinal attachments hilarious and if he was writing the show they’d be in every episode.  He praised Doug’s restraint.

He also admitted that in “TPL” he had an earpiece to have his lines fed to him.  Since it’s controlled by an iPad, certain unscrupulous cast members took great delight in feeding him rude ones.

He still intends to update “The Man In The Rubber Mask” but atm “Fully Charged” is consuming a lot of his time as it’s become much more successful than he anticipated and he’s in charge of several people.

Surprisingly, he would hate appearing in RD without the Kryten makeup, both because it’s become much quicker to apply and because it provides him with a shield and he becomes Kryten and forgets stagefright.  He still can’t watch “DNA” for that reason.

Lapsang, who played Kryten in “Into The Gloop”, asked Robert if he’d seen it.  He hadn’t but said he was now very curious and would find a way to.

Next up was Lee Cornes aka Paranoia who said he originally auditioned for the lead roles and like the other unsuccessful actors got the consolation prize of a guest appearance.  Upon being asked if he’d gone out for a drink with Craig Ferguson’s Confidence, he said no because at the time they had a frosty relationship due to rumours that Craig was plagiarising other comics’ jokes.  Lee said it was all very silly and he’s since apologised.

Interestingly, Lee is a qualified science teacher and carried on with that career alongside his media one, leading to surreal situations where his pupils would ask: “Sir?  Were you on the telly last night?”  “Yes.”  “Are we on the telly now, sir?”

Someone asked a good question - what would Lister’s Paranoia be like now 33 years later?  Lee would be willing to reprise the role but isn’t sure it would work as the original had a childish quality whereas he feels now the character would be a lot darker and less funny.  Lee was both thoughtful and entertaining in his responses.

He was followed onstage by Hattie and Norman, who resolutely refused to rise to the bait of an audience member attempting to stir up a rivalry between them.  That only works when one isn’t the nicest person you could meet.

A tactless audience member asked both if they’d watched “TPL” instead of directing the question at Norman.  Luckily Hattie had seen it and particularly enjoyed the cat flap joke although she felt there was a little too much focus on the guest cast.

Norman didn’t really watch RD after he left but Hattie has seen Norman’s early episodes as he lent them to her back when she was originally cast as Hilly for research purposes.  Bear in mind this was 1988 when they weren’t even available on VHS so presumably he recorded them off the TV.  

Hattie confirmed with a sigh that she’s simply never been asked to return in any capacity: “That’s the short answer.”  What the hell, I’ll say it one more time - Bring Back Hattie!  One episode, that’s all I ask.  As it stands, it’s starting to look like a pointed and deliberate snub which mystifies me.

We then broke for lunch, followed by Rob Grant and Paul Jackson.  For obvious reasons they didn’t go into the current legal mess, opting instead to entertain the fans with the story of how they met and their early pre-RD work (Rob and Doug as freelance writers for Paul’s producer).

We saw some clips from their early shows including “Three Of A Kind” with Lenny Henry, Tracy Ullman and … later magician David Copperfield; apparently they all had the same agent and Paul took on David as a favour.  For a 40 year old show it held up pretty well and was in much better sound and picture quality than older shows often are. “Carrott’s Lib” was just as funny.

It’s a bit hard to summarise but this session was entertaining and gripping.  Rob still wants to write another RD novel and I believe there’s nothing actually stopping him as both he and Doug had an option to write a second solo novel.  So we’ll see.

The final Q&A was Matthew Clark who was very informative and interesting, showing us numerous production stills from Series XII and “TPL” and talking us through them.  There was a groan when time was called before he was finished.

By now time was running short and Amy and I went back to the room to pack and leave our luggage with reception before watching the start of “Dibbley Family Fortunes”. Since I knew I wouldn’t have time to watch it all, I instead nipped upstairs to Autographs with Lee and Ian, timing it perfectly as the queue had almost vanished.

Ian was still performing, drawing scornful attention to the fact that Lee had a longer queue: “Can you imagine all these people queueing to see Lee Cornes?!”  It sounds rude out of context but he was clearly joking.

I decided to ask Lee what flavour the yogurt Paranoia eats was.  He said it didn’t really taste of anything as it was the cheapest, nastiest canteen yogurt available and was also starting to curdle under the studio lights so eating it can’t have been much fun.

Since I now had about 15 minutes before I had to go, I caught a bit of Dibbley Family Fortunes, said goodbye to Amy, Lapsang and Barbs and then dashed off to catch the tram to the train station.  Another great DJ.

[cunningambitousdetermined]

Broken Pieces (young!James Potter x Reader)

hi! so this is for @pad-foots 500k celebration writing challenge, congratulations @pad-foots! *cheering noises* the reader being slytherin is important to the storyline otherwise it would have been non house specific. and um yeah it’s james potter x reader and hella angsty. with the prompt 10/12 “who the hell hurt you?” ahh i barely got this out on time! omg that was so terrifying to write! i hope everyone likes it!

warning: abusive family, bullying, self dislike?, swearing, SADNESS, 

The Noble House of Monroe will not be shamed. The Noble House of Monroe will not be shamed. 

Y/N traced the scars on the back of her palm methodically in a soothing motion before sighing and getting up from her spot at the base of the wall in the courtyard. It was almost dark and she would for being out late if she didn’t get back soon. She hurried down the stair toward the dungeons, glancing back and forth as she went. If she was caught and points were deducted it would only give her cousins another reason to torment her. A while back, maybe about a year or so before, her mother had convinced her cousins to get me in trouble in Ancient Runes, the professor was a friend of mother’s, so that I could write lines for a week. The Noble House of Monroe will not be shamed. It had taken weeks for the cuts of the words in her hands to heal and months to scar.  She hated that she wasn’t good enough. It was long known within her family that her father was a ‘blood traitor’. They said it made her just as worthless. They said she was weak for loving her father, though he didn’t want her. They said she was dirty for helping muggleborn and half-blood's alike. She had sullied her place in the family. She was no better then her father, a worthless blood traitor. When she first came to Hogwarts, she felt free. Free of the ideas and rules that had bound her for so long. She had spent her first months at Hogwarts helping up the boys and girls who were being picked on, hoping to gain some friends. She soon found that the world was just a cruel as her family. They hated her because of her last name, and her house, and her family. It was 3rd year and she still hadn't made any friends. She stuck to her ideal saying it was the right thing to do, but she wondered every so often if it was worth the world of pain it brought with it. She kept a void mask on, no reaction, no emotions. No emotion when her cousins shoved her in the corridors, no emotion when her mothers hand would come down, leaving more then just physical wounds. No emotion when people would jeer at her and tug at her tie. But underneath she was crying, sobbing, breaking. Her being was just composed of cracked glass that she was so desperately trying to hold together. But at some point, she was bound to shatter. 

The door to Y/N’s dorm slammed behind her and she collapsed on to her bed. Immediately she felt something burn her face and arms. She leapt up and found her arms and cheek red with burns and the bed smoking. She just sighed and picked up the sheets and gave them a sniff. The draught of the living dead. But just enough to burn. She didn’t even get mad, she knew who did this. She was too tired, to drained to be mad. She was only a shell of the happy, kind, girl she had once been. The water washed over her burns, soothing the angry red that just couldn’t seem to faze her. Throwing on an old pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt she headed out of the dorm, eyes shining and threatening to break. It was only the sanctuary of the 2nd floor girls bathroom that she broke. Crumbling, shattering, a million pieces scattered. Sobs racked through her whole body, shaking and trembling. She caught her face in the mirror and she didn’t recognize the girl that stared back. She unleashed a scream so raw that even the sun seemed to cry. Worthless. Failure. Better off dead. Disgrace.  All she could do was cry as she shattered. And she wondered if she would ever be put back together. 

James Potter should not have been out this late. Sirius and him barely fit under the cloak together anymore. But this was essential if the prank was to go smoothly. “Pads, I swear if you don’t shut up I’ll tell Remus you’re in love with him!” He whispered. He had to repress a laugh as Sirius choked on his breath.

“You would not. And I don’t. Love him. Nope.” Sirius said, defensively. James just rolled his eyes and continued walking. Sirius opened his mouth to say more when something flew past them. 

“Pads...?” 

“Yeah?”

“Should we...?” James didn’t have to finish his sentence before Sirius started guiding them down the hall where the figure had gone. They walked in silence until they approached a girls bathroom with light streaming out from under the door. Sirius nodded at James and James reached out a hand to push the door open. James peered through the slightly open door to find, a girl? A girl was sitting on the floor, head in her hands. He could practically feel her sobs as she rocked on the floor. Her hands were red, like they’d been burned, and her hair tumbled down from its bun to frame her face. She shook and trembled until her head snapped up and James jumped. She looked in the mirror and James didn’t think he’d ever seen that much pain in a person before. Her eyes were swollen and tears ran down her face. She looked so sad and small. Her hands shook as she ran them down her face. Before he could react, she let out a scream. James’s eyes filled with tears and he felt his heart drop right through his feet. The scream was so full of pain and hatred, anger and sadness that he nearly fell over. She had collapsed again and just cried. Each cry was a knife to the chest as the sobs tore threw her. He went to walk in, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Sirius was motioning him out and he widened his eyes trying to tell him that he had to go in. He had to help!  But Sirius was firm and dragged him away, prank long forgotten. When the reached the common room, Sirius sat down in an armchair across from James as he wore a hole in the carpet by pacing. 

“James,” Sirius said quietly, “sit down for a second.”

“Sit down! SIT DOWN!” James roared and then remembering that it was late, he lowered his voice, “Did you see her?! We should’ve helped her! I could’ve helped her!” James’s voice broke at the end and he looked away. 

“James, if you went barging in, do you think she would've appreciated that?” James sighed but Sirius kept going, “She needed a moment, and besides, I know her. I know her.” He trailed off at the end, his face contorted with guilt. 

“You know her?” James’s voice was soft, “Who?” He felt himself stumble back into the couch. 

“Y/N Monroe,” Sirius closed his eyes, memories washing over him, “I grew up with her. Our families were close. Her dad didn’t believe in any of the pureblood supremacy bullshit and left as soon as he found out that that’s what the family believed. She was like him. She always had a good moral compass.” A smile passed over his face fondly, “She liked to play quidditch with me...”

“Pads?” Sirius had never heard this tone in James’s voice before. Not when speaking about Evans, not when talking Rem down after a full moon, never. “What happened? Why don’t you talk anymore?”

“She was sorted into Slytherin” was the only response Sirius could provide. Silence overtook the pair, guilt hitting Sirius in waves. He had abandoned her and look what that had done. 

James was the one who broke the silence, “I’m going to be her friend.”

James was true to his word. The very next day he sat next to her and just talked. Surprisingly, she was really funny and easy to talk to. They would talk about quidditch, he would tell her about all his pranks, she would tell him about the books she read. When he invited her to sit with the marauders at the Gryffindor table, she was scared. She knew James and Sirius were friends but she was terrified about seeing him again. James assured her that he wanted to make it up to her. After a few days of begging on James’s part, she agreed. That day, Sirius had apologized and they rekindled the ashes of their old friendship. She had officially made friends in the most unexpected of people. Since becoming friends with James this fall, the year had gone from worst to best in a matter of weeks. She started spending most of her day with the Marauders and often found herself in their dorm more then her own. Her heart was suddenly light all the time and she never was without a smile. It was like a dream, she had friends she had James, and she was happy.

James was happy too. Y/N was like nothing he had ever expected. She could simply just listen to him and understand. She was funny and just so good. It was inexplicable. She was like a gentle breeze on a hot summer day. When she smiled at him, his heart grew about a million sizes bigger. When he first made her laugh, he almost passed out. It was so precious, that laugh, and he made it a goal to hear it everyday. It was like she was feeding life into him with each smile, each soft tease, each laugh. His mind would often wander back to the time in the bathroom, her tears running down her face, her body shaking with sobs. But he had to remind himself that those tears had become smiles and that her body shook with laughter rather than sobs. Everything felt better with her around. The sun, a little brighter. His flying, a little faster.  It was like she was feeding life into him with each smile, each soft tease, each laugh.  He was hopelessly in love with her. 

“You’re just jealous that Slytherin has a better keeper then Gryffindor!” Y/N laughed. The marauders sat in their dorm, Y/N tucked between James’s lanky legs. 

“Am not! He’s a horrible keeper! And ugly!” James retorted, shoving her back off his chest so she could look at him. 

“Didn’t Sirius say he was cute the other day?” 

Remus and Sirius both answered at the same time

“Sirius-”

“I DID NOT!”

“You did, but you also mentioned how he looked like a certain someone...” Y/N trailed off, smirk growing. She never missed an opportunity to make fun of Sirius and Remus after she caught them snogging last month. The two blushed and suddenly the board game was very interesting. James looked around in confusion before stretching back and lying down. Y/N glanced down and went to get up, wanted to leave James in piece for a nap. As her knees left the bedframe, a hand wrapped around her wrist and she flinched but managed to bite back her scream. James cocked an eyebrow at her, questioning. 

“You ok, love?” he asked quietly enough that she knew it was just for her.

“Yeah, just startled me is all” She managed as she struggled to calm her racing heart. Y/N cursed herself internally, usually she was fine with physical contact. In fact, she found it quite comforting. But when she wasn’t ready, all she could see was her mother’s hands and her father’s fists. 

“M’ tired love, wanna nap?” James yawned and Y/N realized with a start that he meant with him. She felt heat race to her cheeks and she gave a small nod. He opened his arms and Y/N climbed in and tucked her head into his neck. He gave a soft exhale and tightened his arms around her. His breath ruffled her hair and tickled her neck. His calming presence washed over her in waves with each inhale and exhale. She let her eyes close and for once she wasn’t scared of the things that haunted her dreams. Here, she felt safe. Safe. She hadn’t felt that way in a long time. 

Y/N should’ve known that a feeling a safety would only last so long. As she walked out of James’s dorm that night, she could feel a pair of eyes watching her. Their presence tingled on her back and her head. She slowly slipped her hand inside her robe and tightened her grip on her wand. She was nearly to the dungeons when she heard it. “Y/N/N!” a voice trilled. Y/N’s stomach dropped. She knew that voice.  Her cousins had found out about her recent bond with James and the Gryffindor's. She should’ve known that they would come sooner or later. Just another reason she was a failure. 

Y/N took a deep breath in and called back “Yes, Owen?”

Owen gave a malicious chuckle, “I have a present for you!” and with that he stepped out into the light. But it wasn’t just him. Y/N felt her whole body freeze. Her mother. Tall, commanding, cruel. And standing right in front of her. “She knows her potions, right, Y/N?” It took a moment for the meaning to hit Y/N and when it did she nearly fell over. Her mother had been behind the potion on her mattress. Why had she thought any different? She was taken back to the girl she was all those nights ago, breaking down in the girls bathroom. Broken, hurt and tired. 

“Y-you did that?” Y/N’s voice was barely audible in the large hallway, the space between her and her mother eating away at the sound. 

“Well, darling, I had to show you that we will not be shamed by you, didn’t I?” Her mother’s voice was cold and calculating, the honey she tried to inflict felt more like the lick of a whip, lashing out in every syllable. “Obviously, that didn’t work, as dear Owen says,” She stopped to give her nephew a fond look, “told me that you’d made some friends” Y/N’s mother spat the word with such disgust and her nose wrinkled as if the mere idea was repulsive. “You’ve been associating with blood traitors and mudbloods”

Y/N was cowering, each word her mother said seemed to sink her farther into the floor. 

“Maybe it’s time you really let the lesson... sink in.” Her mother crowed. Her mother advanced until she was looking down at Y/N. Her claw-like hands drew Y/N’s chin up to look at her. A palm struck her cheek.

“Worthless” The next 20 minutes were a blur of flying hands and purple bruises. Each hit broke down the glass she had finally put back together. She shut her eyes against the pain but she could still here. “Stupid”

Disgrace

Not good enough

Loser

Fat

She tried to stay strong, she really did, but tears fell in hot waterfalls down her face. Then it was over. “You are nothing.” was the last thing she heard before they were gone. She was left alone to pick up the broken pieces. Again. She slowly dragged her bruised and battered body up toward the same girls bathroom. The irony did strike her as she pulled herself in front of the mirror. The girl who stared back was purple and blue. Inside and out. The marks her mother and cousin had left would join the scars on her hands from the potion. They would join her memorabilia of pain. Of hatred. She wasn’t good enough. Worthless. Failure. GO DIE. NOTHING. The thoughts just kept getting louder and louder. Her hands were in her hair, tugging at the ends, pulling and pulling and pulling. James. Y/N wasn’t even aware of herself as she walked the halls, bloodied and limping. Her face reflected no pain, only defeat. It was only outside James’s door did she stop. Why would he want you? You, you who is nothing. You who is a broken thing. A basket case. He will never love someone who isn’t even whole anymore. Her glassy eyes pooled with tears which spilled. Her body gave out, collapsed on the floor. Go to sleep. Just die here. Her mind whirled with taunts. She just wished it would go away. She wished she could go away.

“Y/N?” James. His voice sounded so, so broken. Shattered. “Y/N, love, what’s going on?” She just shook her head. James fell to his knees next to her. His breath caught as he saw her face. “Y/N!” Tears burned the backs of his eyes, and then he felt the anger. Who? Who would’ve thought that they could hurt her? “Please-” he shut his eyes as the whisper curled out of his mouth.

“James...” her voice cracked, all happiness vanished, he was left to hear the same raw unadulterated pain from that night in the bathroom. He wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her inside the dorm room, pressing light kisses to her hair. Sirius and Remus jumped up, eyes wide, shocked. James just jerked his head to the door. They exchanged a look. James and her needed this moment. With that, they filed out silently, defeated eyes heavy on Y/N’s figure.

“Y/N, please. What happened to you baby?” It registered in neither of their minds that he had called her baby. The worry in his voice was slowly drowning her. Why did he care so much?

“I- James- I can’t” Fresh tears streamed threw James’s shirt. James pulled away, his large hand coming up to cup Y/N’s delicate cheek. His finger feathered over the bruises lightly. 

“Y/N.” his voice was firm but his hand was still just as gentle, soothing her face with each stroke, “Who the hell hurt you?” His burning eyes spilled over and he turned his head away. 

“No. Stop pretending you care! I’M NOTHING!” Y/N’s sadness had gave way to anger and she was yelling, tears still flowing. She wouldn’t stop. “I’m a basket case! Why would you love someone who doesn’t even love themselves?” James’s eyes widened. She thought he didn’t love her. Instinct took over and he reached his other hand to grasp Y/N’s wrist which was pulling at her hair and kissed her. Y/N stiffened but as James’s lips move against hers she let go. Her arms twined around his neck, digging her fingers into his hair. James was so overwhelmed with love for her that he had to pull away. Y/N was looking at him in shock. Her eyes full blown wide and mouth still open in surprise. 

“I love you. You are something. You mean everything to me. You are my life. My soul and my body. I love you even when you don’t love yourself and I will keep loving you until you do. I love you.” Y/N choked on a sob, “I first wanted to be your friend because I saw you crying, breaking down in a bathroom. I felt so helpless, so lost but when I had you near me, I was complete. You are the other part of my soul. I love you. And I always have.” James cupped her face and pressed his lips to hers again. “Tell me baby, I’m here” She just looked at him and he felt her pain, her happiness, her love. 

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips “I love you. I’ve wanted to say it for so long. I love you.” She pulled away and let a sob run through her, “And you love me.” James nodded, a sad smile gracing his strong features. 

And so she told him, told him everything. From the potion on the bed to the summers before to tonight. He didn’t interrupt, just let her talk. He gasped at parts, cried at parts and when it got hard to tell the story, he would rub this thumb over her hand and let her take a break. Y/N was exhausted by then end but she had never felt lighter. Someone knew. And someone loved her for it. James tucked them into bed, bringing her into his warmth. As the light faded from the lamp and Y/N let sleep take her away, James pressed his face against her neck and whispered his love and his apologies and his hopes. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again, my love. Never.” 

Edit: just gave this a name, i totally forgot the first time :)

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Blood is Thicker than Water

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield, Rosie Holland x Linus Perry

-Warnings: References to sex, language, typos, sad thoughts, attempted suicide, vomiting

-Words: 4.4K

A/n: Thank you so mucg guys with all the live support. Finally done, yay, with part 1

Chapter 17: Blood is Thicker than Water

Words: 4.4K

Four years had passed and Rosie was the only one to stick around. Everything had changed. You and Tom were currently on your trip around the world. Traveling everywhere from Cuba to Greece. Taking in sights of the world.

Embarking on journey covering 3 continents and 10 countries so far. You had already visited the Taj Mahal in India, the Amalfi Coast for some sun, and Iceland just for the blue lagoon hot springs. You and Tom were having the time of your lives, it being the perfect distraction from everything back home.

Rosie was running the mob along with her new right hand and consigliere, Linus. Rosie had been taking on the mantle as the new leader of the Holland mob. Picking up where Parker left off. Trying to do him justice. Tom had helped her learn the ropes but she always had that fiery personality desired for a mob persona.

After four years, Rosie learned to embrace her grief instead of shoving it away, she began to visit Parker’s grave more and more. Tried to every week, but life got in the way. She would bring a new set of flowers to freshen up the old ones.

She knew today would be especially hard, every year it was impossible. Rosie could barely get through the day. Today was her 20th birthday, marking 4 years of celebrating without Parker.

Rosie and Henry’s relationship had grown into one full of misery. Trapped in a loveless relationship, but he was still her best friend. With just one look he would know what she was thinking.

Over the past couple years, Henry has been so obsessed with keeping her safe that it was driving her mad. Rosie understood that Henry didn’t want to lose her like he lost Parker, but Rosie ran a mob and danger followed her everywhere. They started drifting apart when everything happened with the Holland family, creating unfixable cracks in their foundation.

Lately, Rosie had been feeling someone watching her every move. Following her whenever she would be downtown. Feeling a presence she hasn’t felt in a while. Constantly shivering in fear, feeling as though she was observed. From then on, every move she made was calculated and thought out.

When Rosie first took on the mantle, she cleaned house. Eliminating those whose loyalty would always lie with Tom. Trying to affirm the fact that she was so much more than just Tom’s daughter. She had let William go and few others because she brought in Linus.

Even after starting her new regime, things have been a bit off, lately. She hasn’t been sleeping through the night. She’d jolt out of sleep, drenched in a cold sweat. Henry would be startled awake as well by her movement as move to comfort her.

“Roo, you okay?” Henry asked groggily, yawning a bit. Rosie gasping to catch her breath. Her dreams were supposed to be an escape but now they were doing more harm than good. “I don’t know. I keep having these dreams about Parker. Like he was trying to tell me something,” Rosie said, gathering her bearings. It wasn’t everyday she was visited by her deceased twin brother. “From beyond the grave?…Rosie, he’s gone,” Henry pondered. “I know, I just can’t shake this feeling. That he is… he’s.”

“What? Still alive? Honey, we buried him. You cried over him. If he was still alive don’t you think we would’ve shown his face by now. Wilson and Carter are gone, they have been for awhile now,” Henry explained, hoping it would bring her some solace. Henry wasn’t blind to the change in her demeanor, she did open up to him about being followed everywhere she went. “I guess you’re right. But my dreams feel so real,” Rosie whispered, lying back down. Ready to drift off into a deep sleep. One not tainted by the memory of Parker. “Go, back to sleep baby.” Henry said, he knew they would be getting up in a few hours anyway. Tomorrow was a very big day. Henry knew he and Rosie had been drifting but he was all set to give her the best birthday ever.

Henry had bought tickets for you and Tom to fly in for her birthday and stay for awhile. This time of year was hard for all of you but it wasn’t fair to Rosie. The day that is supposed to be about her has always been shared but now no one dared acknowledge it. It was just a reminder of what had been lost.

“Good morning, beautiful. Happy birthday,” Henry whispered, peppering her face in kisses as the morning sun shone through the curtains.

“Thank you,” Rosie sighed. Every year was a challenge. It got a little better every year but she knew she would never fully accept his absence.

“What do you have planned today?” Henry inquired, he was always one for big gestures. He absolutely hated that she no longer enjoyed her birthday.

As a kid she loved the idea of turning a year older, getting to grow up and getting loads of presents of course. You always made the priority of throwing the most perfect themed parties for Rosie and Parker. One year they had a pirate themed pool party with a treasure hunt and another a circus/carnival theme with fair games and a petting zoo. You loved going all out for their birthday. Just spoiling them in general.

Rosie and Parker, also Tom, can’t forget about him, made life worth living. You and Tom did everything for your kids, never wanting them to feel an ounce of sadness.

But the times had changed, you were no longer the mother to a son. It was just Rosie and you thanked God everyday that she was still there but your heart will forever be scarred.

Scars take forever to heal, sometimes never. There will never be a day when you don’t miss Parker or he doesn’t cross your mind. Everything you did from the moment he died was for him, in one way or another. You knew the grief would never stop but you hoped Rosie would one day be able to move on with life.

“You know…” Rosie murmured. “Oh yeah, say hi for me,” Henry nodded along remembering Rosie was going to spend the day next to her better half, Parker.

Rosie proceeded to get dressed and ready for the day. She wore a tight grey dress showing off the perfect curves of her body. And a pair of black high heels to complete her power woman ensemble. “Henry, you aren’t throwing me a party right? I really don’t want one,” Rosie inquired. Rosie would prefer to have all birthdays pass and wash away but she knew Henry wouldn’t allow that. At the most she would have a nice dinner with him and watch a movie.

“You’ll just wait to find out,” Henry grinned cheekily. In reality he was throwing her surprise party to help her find the joy in her birthday again.

“Henry seriously, not this year,” Rosie announced. “It’s never any year. You haven’t celebrated in 3 years. You need to get over this.”

“Get over what? The death of my twin brother?” Rosie asked, astounded at Henry’s previous statement. The nerve he had, wow.

“Roo, I’m sorry,” Henry tried to apologize but Rosie left in a huff.

“Talk later, Linus is waiting for me,” Rosie yelled, already walking out of the room. “Linus, you ready to go?” Rosie said, as she found him drinking coffee in her kitchen. He sat at the bar, legs dangling off the chair as she came down. “Yes, Roo,” he said, a little out of breath from taking the awe of her beauty.

“Please don’t call me that around Henry… What’s on the agenda?” Rosie asked Linus as she poured herself her own cup of coffee.

“Well, Shaw owes you 3 million and the deadline you gave him expired,” Linus explained, he knew Rosie hated having things held over her head. She would prefer to get them out of the way as soon as possible.

“Well then, let’s go pay him a visit. I could use a drink. Afterwards, can you drop me off at the cemetery?” “Of course, Roo,” Linus said. Rosie huffed in response, rolling her eyes at the name. Linus loved to get a rise out of Rosie. Her remarks to his comments were just a sign of their playful banter.Rosie’s relationship with Linus was complicated. They were partners, most of the time.

Rosie had gone really dark over the past years. There were days where she refused to get out of bed. Sitting in bed wasting the entire day away. Henry would come home from work and try his best to comfort her but after Parker he was just as lost as her. They lived in the same house but not truly together. Not as lovers, maybe as roommates.

All Rosie could feel were thoughts of hopelessness, desolation, and misery. Never being able to find that light at the end of the tunnel. She didn’t deserve to find it, thinking she was the one who pushed you and Tom away. Blaming herself for Parker. All these feelings and Henry wasn’t there, too busy with his own life.

One day, Rosie had gotten real low. Couldn’t find a way out so she went to the gun room grabbed the closest pistol, a bottle of scotch, a glass and sat in Tom’s office. She rested on Tom’s chair trying to find the will to end it all. To point the pistol and pull the trigger.

It would be so easy, the flick of a finger. No more pain. She tried not to think about everything she was giving up. Never seeing you or Tom again, or Henry. Never loving him again, if they ever did manage to find their way back to each others arms. Never experiencing the things that made life worth living.

All her thoughts were halted as Linus barged in. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the broken girl hold a gun unto her temple, its safety clicked off. The room was cold as an icy chill ran down his spine.

“Rosie, what are you doing!?!” Linus thundered, trying to stop her before she pulled the trigger. “I don’t know. I think I’m trying to end it all,” Rosie whispered as tears streamed down her face. Deep down she didn’t want to pull the trigger, she wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

“End what all? Your life?” Linus asked, trying to talk her off the metaphorical ledge. Something had to happen that pushed her to this point. Rosie had to be drowning and calling out for help but no one came. “No, it was never about killing myself. It was just about ending the pain and suffering,” she cried.

“Rosie, listen to me. There is so much more you have to live for. This will pass. Think about everything you are giving up.” Linus tried to appeal to the people she loved, you, Tom, and Henry. Losing Rosie would no longer make you a mother. How could Rosie take that away from you?

“I already have and it hasn’t, for 2 years. How do you know it will get any better?” Rosie begged for a true answer. She had been slumping around, letting the days pass her by as she stood silent, screaming non-vocally for help. Trapped in an asylum of misery. “I don’t. But I’ll be there to help you,” Linus exclaimed, giving her the truthful response she wanted. Rosie just needed to hear that she wasn’t alone in this world anymore. “No, you won’t. You’ll just leave like everyone else. Henry doesn’t love me anymore. My parents left. I’m all alone.” “Roo, you aren’t alone. Just hand me the gun and we can work this out. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here,” Linus pleaded. That was the first time he had used that nickname. The name had been reserved for only Henry, Parker and you. In that moment Rosie saw someone she missed so dearly in Linus, Parker. Parker was the only person who was 100% there for her. He was there to talk her off the ledge. He was there at her weakest and in a split second he was standing in front of her.

Rosie gave in, removing the gun from her temple, clicking the safety one and handing it over. She slowly stood up, coming over to Linus and collapsed in his arms. Rosie whispered a small “I missed you” as he held the broken girl. He was the only one who could pull her out. Not Henry, god she wished it was Henry. Linus understood her pain and didn’t try to fix everything.

Henry was the opposite. Constantly worrying about Rosie and trying to find a solution for everything. Things from the slightest backache to feelings of hopelessness. Rosie didn’t need fixing she just needed to be heard and Linus made sure she was. At Harmon’s, the bar was quite empty. Just Shaw and a few of his men. Shaw has borrowed money from Rosie to clear of a few charges. The Holland name had some pull in the legal community. Dating back to Dom’s days but Tom mostly laid down roots.

Linus entered first, firing two shots to take out Shaw’s capos. “Jesus Christ,” yelled Shaw as his protection thudded against the floor.

Rosie followed Linus in, making her presence known, “Shaw, you know I’m not a fan of people not staying true to their word. Do you have my money?”

“Rosie, doll. I paid you in full already. If this just your sad attempt to stir something up we can work this out another time. Shoo, let me finish my drink,” Shaw snickered. “Shaw, I know your games. You have 3 minutes to transfer my money right now. One for each million. I have Linus checking for a deposit of 3 million, make this simple and do it,” Rosie stated with an unchanging expression. “I need more time, that’s not enough. It’s all in separate accounts,” Shaw asserted, his voice starting to waver as he stared down the barrel of her pistol. “Well then, I’d hurry if I were you. Here’s your phone. Just wire the money… Starting now,” Rosie exclaimed as Linus devoted his stare to watch. Glancing at the seconds tick away.

“Fine, I’m going,” Shaw screamed, about to crack under the pressure.

“2 minutes left,” Linus chimed in. “Okay, I’m just inputing the dollar amount, it’s a lot of zeros.” Shaw tried to explain. He was about to lose his life because he was slow.

“50 secs.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6—“

“I’m done,” Shaw said, letting out the breath he was holding.

“That was fast but not fast enough,” Rosie whispered raising her gun square to the back of his head. Her finger slipped to the trigger and fired a shot.

BANG

“Wow, I didn’t think you actually kill him,” Linus said, impressed by her ruthlessness.

“He was getting on my nerves, besides he will never borrow money from me again if he is dead,” Rosie chuckled. “You know I found that really hot,” Linus whispered in her ear. “You always do.” Rosie grinned at his advances, trying to pull her close to his chest. “Hey, this can’t keep happening.”

“Oh, come on. You say that every time. I can’t hide my feelings for you anymore.”

“Well, you are going to have to. I was clear about what this was. So I’m going to ask you this once more time, what do you want?” “I want you.” “Well you can have me in the bathroom in 2 minutes.” “Roo, you’re too good to me,” Linus smirked, following her as she glided to the restroom.

Everything lasted about 30 mins. They were in and out in a flash. The bar now smelled of sex and a dead bodies. Linus was the first to finish, coming out of the bathroom looking disheveled as hell. Sporting the same juts had a quickie look. Linus went to pull the car around after fixing his hair in the mirror.

Linus would never be Henry and that was a good thing, Linus was different. By no circumstances was Rosie in love with Linus or will ever be in love with him, he was merely a distraction. Rosie knew her relationship with him was wrong but he made her feel alive once more.

Rosie emerged from bathroom breathing heavy, almost gasping for air, with sweat glistening on her chest. She straightened out her dress as combed down her hair. Stepping out of the doorway, the smell of a fresh rotting body hit her.

Rosie immediately turned around and lunged for the toilet. She had been in the business for 3 years and never before had her body reacted this way. She hurled into the toilet for a good ten minutes. Eventually bringing her head out of the toilet bowl to wipe off her mouth. The air was now coupled with sex, dead bodies and vomit. She was clueless to what forced her to keep her head in a toilet bowl.

After her nausea spell passed her, she had Linus drop her off near the cemetery. “Oh, you can drop me off here. I need something from the pharmacy anyways,”Rosie informed Linus. She was planning on picking up something for her stomach, it was very unlikely for her to throw up suddenly.

“Ok, Roo. Do you need a ride home?” Linus questioned.

“No, Jared is supposed to pick me up. Thank you,” Rosie exclaimed, getting out of the car. “Alright. Happy birthday by the way. Can I have a kiss goodbye?” “Thank you and no. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah for the party,” Linus called out slowly driving away. “Wait! What did you say?” Rosie remarked but he was already long gone.

Rosie was mentally kicking herself, she didn’t have the willpower to deal with a party tonight. She specifically told Henry, not to throw one but since when did he listen to her.

Their road to ultimately heartbreak was a two way street. Both of them had done something to warrant the loveless relationship. Rosie admitted to herself, that she eventually did stop trying. She stopped constantly asking if Henry wanted to go out for dinner and what time he would be home. Rosie prefers to blame Henry but in reality, she was then one who let go first.

Rosie stopped showing him love, too distraught by his every move because it was a constant reminder her brother wasn’t there anymore. Henry would try to work him into every little conversation, remembering Parker in everything. It grew too much for Rosie. Rosie had never been one for confronting her feelings, preferring to shove them down but how could she, when Henry would never shut up about Parker.

Parker was the main reason a wedge had been driven between them, but she wouldn’t dream of blaming her dead brother. Who couldn’t even defend himself. Rosie needed a reset after Parker but Henry was stuck living in the past.

Rosie was ready to start her life with Henry after graduation but he couldn’t let go. After a while, Rosie became just like him. Stuck drifting into a void of pure sadness. Rosie couldn’t let go, along with Henry. Their lives went in different directions, Rosie was blossoming into a ruthless leader who would only act soft around Parker, vowing to visit his grave everyday. And Henry got left behind at some point, not seeing how he fit in her life anymore.

In the pharmacy she scanned the aisles for some sort of quick remedy. If Henry was throwing her a surprise party, one she specifically asked not for. Rosie didn’t have days to recuperate, maybe a few hours.

She found the largest bottle of Pepto-Bismol and stopped by the card aisle. Carefully grasping a birthday card for her favorite person. One that was funny yet endearing. Parker was addicted to all the corned jokes she would crack. She made her way to the register. In front of her stood a little old woman, she wore a purple floral dress and her white stained hair was pulled into a clip.

“Just this for you sweetie? Oh, who’s birthday is it?” Asked the little lady, referring to the birthday card Rosie grabbed for Parker.

“My brother’s and um, could I also get this,” Rosie responded as her eyes glanced below her. Skimming over the candy bars, gum packets and eventually landing on a pregnancy test. Come to think of it, Rosie was late about a week and a half.

“Of course, honey. Would you like to use the restroom?” Queried the lady. Rosie nodded in response. She finished paying and quickly made her way to the restroom. Following the directions on the box carefully, she needed to be a hundred percent sure, before she told anyone.

Right around the corner was the cemetery. She glided through iron gates, walking across the cobble stone path before she came upon the place she loved most in the world. The place where she would hold nothing back, spilling everything to him.

Life of a mob boss was dangerous but things started to seem eerie for Rosie. She would feel weird presences or someone watching her at eerie times. The same feeling plagued her at the cemetery, today. She knelt down to the headstone, engraved in it read “Here Lies Parker Jackson Holland, Taken from us too soon, a son, a brother, and a friend.”

“Hey, P. You probably get tired of me visiting you. Everyday I’m here and sometimes I think I do it for my benefit more than yours. I hope that wherever you are, you are happy and most likely you are with Charlotte. I’m happy for you, Parker. No matter how much I wish you were here with me, I know that you are happy that you escaped this life. Happy 20th birthday.” Rosie whispered, fixing the flowers that began to wilt from yesterday.

“I have some really amazing news to share with you, but it will have to wait till next time. You can’t be the first person I tell, I’m sorry. He deserves to know before you…. Oh my god, you’ll never believe what happened at work…”

This is the one thing that brought Rosie solace. She persistently blames herself for that fateful night 3 years ago. Rosie would spend hours kneeling next to his headstone. She would tell him about her life and read off the postcards you and Tom sent from your travels. Talking to him as if he was still there.

Rosie glanced at her watch, it was half past five and she hadn’t even called Jared yet to pick her up. “I’m sorry P, I gotta go. Henry, god love him but, that bastard is throwing me a birthday party. I guess I should at least make an appearance. I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you.” Rosie said, walking towards the parking lot.

She stood under the gate for ten minutes waiting for Jared to arrive and escort her home. The weather completely shifted as the sun set around her. The once blue sky changed to one painted with vibrant yellows and pinks. The sky was a sight not to be missed but she could do without the freezing winds that accompanied.

A chill ran down her spine as she waited in the darkness. Feeling a sensation that only warranted panic. Rosie felt someone watching her once again. Maybe from a far or up close, but she definitely wasn’t alone. It was silly that she let feelings like those get to her. She was a mob boss for god sakes, scaring even the most menacing of men into submission.

Rosie eyes started darting everywhere a noise left. In the corner of her eye she caught a figure drenched in shadows approaching. She tried to scramble for her gun, but soon realized she left it in Linus’s car.

The stranger kept making advances and managed to get to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a cloth to her mouth. Causing her to be consumed in darkness as her body grew limp.

Back at the manor, Henry was setting everything up perfectly. His mission was to make Rosie love her birthday once more. While Henry was working hard at hanging the birthday banner and decorating every corner with balloons, Linus was no help at all. Lounging on the couch and finishing a beer.

“So are you going to pick up Rosie and get off your ass?” Henry barked, pulling the coffee out from under Linus, causing him to spill his beer.

“Seriously, dude. What’s your problem?” Linus snapped.

“My problem is my girlfriend isn’t here. Aren’t you supposed to pick her up?” “No, Jared is.” “Linus, Jared is here. He has been for a few hours. Where is she?” Henry questioned, starting to worry. “I don’t know. Last, I left her at the cemetery.” “Henry! It’s so good to see you,” you cheered as Tom and you walked in. Hugging Henry after not seeing him for awhile. It still pained you to visit, traveling was the perfect distraction.

“Hope you have been taking care of yourself, son. Where’s Rosie?” Tom questioned. “Yeah, I’ve been good. At the moment, I don’t know where she is. She’s missing,” Henry concluded. You and Tom stood completely still as you processed the news. It wasn’t everyday that your daughter would disappear into thin air, but her job did keep her life in danger.Rosie missing was uncommon. It had happened once or twice in the past but that was 3 years ago. So much had changed, for the better. Yet, you were once again in the same place, in the house you left because everything was too familiar. Rosie missing was all too familiar.

Rosie came to. Opening her eyes to a place she chose to forget. For all she knew it was an exact replica. Warehouses riddled all of London’s ports, she could be anywhere.

“Text your driver and tell him Henry picked you up for a special birthday dinner,” Rosie’s kidnapper barked, thrusting a phone in front of her.

“Really? You kidnapped me? After 3 years of being leader of London’s most feared mob, it’s like been there done that. Do you want money or something? I have a party to get to.” Rosie quipped, annoyed with they man’s pursuits.

“Oh, I know. I believe happy birthday is granted. 20 years is a milestone.”

“Whatever, I don’t really like my birthday anyway.”

“Wanna talk about it?” The stranger pestered on. Rosie had learned lesson from the last time she was restrained to chair, rope around her wrists and ankles, ceasing blood flow. This time it was zip ties, a little basic for any mobster she has had a run with.

“No. I want you to let me go. Seriously, what do you want? I don’t think you know who I am. Or who my father is,” Rosie asserted.

“A moment alone together is all I ask and I know exactly who you are and who your dad is. Correction, who our dad is.”

“Parker.”

A/n: Finally the end. Alright, I'm going to bed. There is no set schedule for the sequel series, I'm just going to post a chapter when I finish writing it. Let me know if you like to be tagged in the sequel chapters.

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[firstfullmoon]

Do you have favorite quotes related about the importance of small details?

“The precious intimacy of little things.”

— Daphné du Maurier, I Will Never Be Young Again

“On my windowsill when I got home, there was a tumbler with pink jelly in it, and embedded in the jelly, sliced strawberries and bananas… [my neighbour] cooks at odd hours. She must have made the strawberry jelly this morning. When I buy baklava, which is not often because I eat too many, I leave a few for her on her windowsill, with a headscarf over them so the wasps don’t come. For these little gifts we don’t thank each other with words. They are commas of care.”

— John Berger, From A to X: A Story in Letters

“I suppose I could spend time theorizing how it is that people are not bad to each other, but that’s really not the point. The point is that in almost every instance of our lives, our social lives, we are, if we pay attention, in the midst of an almost constant, if subtle, caretaking. Holding open doors. Offering elbows at crosswalks. Letting someone else go first. Helping with the heavy bags. Reaching what’s too high, or what’s been dropped. Pulling someone back to their feet. Stopping at the car wreck, at the struck dog. The alternating merge, also known as the zipper. This caretaking is our default mode and it’s always a lie that convinces us to act or believe otherwise. Always.”

“One of the woman was gently arranging an older woman’s collar beneath her sweater, freeing it from the cardigan’s neck, using both of her hands to jostle it free but also seeming to spend a little more time than necessary, creasing the fold of the collar, the other hand kind of resting on her shoulder, the two of them chatting the whole time, sitting there holding each other, nodding, my head twisting toward them like a sunflower as I finished the stairs and walked by, so in love was I with this common flourish of love, this everyday human light.”

“but her need to share the photo with me [...] smiling and looking at it, smiling and looking at me looking at it, me smiling and looking at her looking at it, which is simply called sharing what we love, what we find beautiful, which is an ethics.”

— Ross Gay, The Book of Delights

“He’s got a fever. He’s all alone. So I’m gonna buy him something to eat.” “The congee downstairs is quite good.” “He doesn’t want congee.” “What does he want?” “Can’t taste anything so he wants sesame syrup.” [...] “What are you cooking?” “I had a sudden craving for sesame syrup.”

“Why did you call me at the office today?” “I had nothing to do. I wanted to hear your voice.”

— In the Mood for Love, dir. Wong Kar-Wai

— Danusha Laméris, “Small Kindnesses”

“It all matters. That someone turns out the lamp, picks up the windblown wrapper, says hello to the invalid, pays at the unattended lot, listens to the repeated tale, folds the abandoned laundry, plays the game fairly, tells the story honestly, acknowledges help, gives credit, says good night, resists temptation, wipes the counter, waits at the yellow, makes the bed, tips the maid, remembers the illness, congratulates the victor, accepts the consequences, takes a stand, steps up, offers a hand, goes first, goes last, chooses the small portion, teaches the child, tends to the dying, comforts the grieving, removes the splinter, wipes the tear, directs the lost, touches the lonely, is the whole thing. What is most beautiful is least acknowledged. What is worth dying for is barely noticed.”

— Laura McBride, We Are Called to Rise

“I’ve never told you this,” she said. “But there’s something about taking the cart back instead of leaving it in the parking lot. I don’t know when this came to me; it was a few years ago. There’s a difference between leaving it where you empty it and taking it back to the front of the store. It’s significant.” “Because somebody has to take them in.” “Yes. And if you know that, and you do it for that one guy, you do something else. You join the world…You move out of your isolation and become universal.”

— Andre Dubus, “Out of the Snow”

“It’s true that, in Vietnamese, we rarely say I love you, and when we do, it is almost always in English. Care and love, for us, are pronounced clearest through service: plucking white hairs, pressing yourself on your son to absorb a plane’s turbulence and, therefore, his fear. Or now—as Lan called to me, “Little Dog, get over here and help me help your mother.” And we knelt on each side of you, rolling out the hardened cords in your upper arms, then down to your wrists, your fingers. For a moment almost too brief to matter, this made sense—that three people on the floor, connected to each other by touch, made something like the word family.”

— Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous: A Novel

— Ada Limón, from “The Great Blue Heron of Dunbar Road”

“I’m doing a balancing act with a stack of fresh fruit in my basket. I love you. I want us both to eat well.”

— Christopher Citro, from “Our Beautiful Life When It’s Filled WIth Shrieks”

“One of the primary ways we connect with each other is by eating together. Some of the connection happens simply by being in the same place at the same time and sharing the same food, but we also connect through specific actions, such as serving food to one another or making toasts: ‘May I offer you some potatoes?’ ‘Here’s to your health and happiness.’ Much of our fundamental well-being comes from the basic reassurance that there is a place for us at the table. We belong here. Here we are served and we serve others. Here we give and receive sustenance.”

— Edward Espe Brown, Tomato Blessings and Radish Teaching

“Attention is the beginning of devotion.”

“Now in the spring I kneel, I put my face into the packets of violets, the dampness, the freshness, the sense of ever-ness. Something is wrong, I know it, if I don’t keep my attention on eternity. May I be the tiniest nail in the house of the universe, tiny but useful. May I stay forever in the stream. May I look down upon the windflower and the bull thistle and the coreopsis with the greatest respect.”

“it is a serious thing

just to be alive on this fresh morning in this broken world.”

— Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays / from “Invitation”

— Wendy Cope, “The Orange”

“After learning my flight was detained 4 hours, I heard the announcement: if anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately. Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there. An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly. Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her problem? We told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she did this. I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly. Shu dow-a, shu-biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick, sho bit se-wee? The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—she stopped crying. She thought our flight had been canceled entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late. Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him. We called her son and I spoke with him in English. I told him I would stay with his mother until we got on the plane and would ride next to her—Southwest. She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and found out, of course, they had ten shared friends. Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours. She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering questions. She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—and was offering them to all the women at the gate. To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California, the lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies. And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—non-alcoholic—and the two little girls from our flight, one African American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice and lemonade, and they were covered with powdered sugar, too. And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing with green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere. And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought, this is the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped—has seemed apprehensive about any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women, too. This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.”

— Naomi Shihab Nye, “Gate A4″

“Then there are the things, if you are particularly lucky, that this person has done for you while you’re away: how in the pantry, in the freezer, in the refrigerator will be all the food you like to eat, the scotch you like to drink. There will be the sweater you thought you lost the previous year at the theater, clean and folded and back on its shelf. There will be the shirt with its dangling buttons, but the buttons will be sewn back in place. There will be your mail stacked on one side of his desk; there will be a contract for an advertising campaign you’re going to do in Germany for an Austrian beer, with his notes in the margin to discuss with your lawyer. And there will be no mention of it, and you will know that it was done with genuine pleasure, and you will know that part of the reason—a small part, but a part—you love being in this apartment and in this relationship is because this other person is always making a home for you, and that when you tell him this, he won’t be offended but pleased, and you’ll be glad, because you meant it with gratitude.”

— Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life