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marilynthornhilllover · 3 months

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can you please make a fanfic we’re Larissa dies like in the show then wife reader makes and attends the funeral, but when she gets home she realizes that the front door to her and Larissa’s home was unlocked so she goes in slowly but she sees Larissa at the kitchen table drinking wine and Larissa says something like “miss me darling” and then some smut if you want. ❤️💋

Filthy love

Larissa weems x Fem reader

Warning: Angst, grief, sadness, slight anger, pain, lots of talk about depression, faking of death, smut, fingering, cunniligus, usage of toys such as : vibrator and strap, slight choking, kinda soft sex, praise kink, stalker kink if you squint, slight mommy kink, slight degradation kink.

A/n: I just want to say a HUGE THANK YOU to all of you who got me to 1,005 followers!! I'm so so so grateful and happy. I'm looking forward to continue writing fanfics for you all, thank you for interacting with my work and blog and simply liking my content and i am blessed to have each and everyone of you on board with me, sending love to you all also I hope you enjoy this 1k following special fanfic 👀💖.

There wasn't enough words in the English dictionary to describe the pain and emptiness that you were feeling as you stood over larissa's closed casket. There were no more tears left to cry. All you felt was emptiness, a never ending suffocating cycle of pure sadness, filled with rage. They say death has no sting and that it sneaks up on you and it's absolutely true. Nothing compares to what you felt currently.

You couldn't feel anything, you couldn't hear anything. It's like being trapped in the middle of the ocean with no air yet your still not exactly drowning, you don't want to drown but you refuse to be rescued out of the toxicity of the air.

You felt utterly numb. It's as if you too weren't alive, like a part of you died with her, and is to stay forever buried with her. Soon you'll have to thrown the first batch of sand on her grave, plant flowers two months later, listen to people express their condolences and state how larissa was a ' sunshine in a word filled with gloom'. Correct - absolutely correct. She was your sunshine in your world of gloom.

Truth be told you didn't deserve larissa - Or maybe larissa didn't deserve you. You'd always argue, she'd always stay at work. Nothing was simple, everything was so complicated behind the thick walls of your home. Fake bright smiles where somtimes even the Toothpaste couldn't clean the disgusting words you'd both spit at eachother behind close doors just to apologize minutes after with kept hatred inside.

It's as if you weren't there, but she was still here. It's not possible. She no longer existed and you wished you could swap places. She died so you can live but really and truly you didn't want to be here either.

The word is toxic and exhausting and larissa kept things joyful for you, always ready to sacrifice her happiness to see you smile. The memories of the good kept attacking your brain, handing in return instant headaches.

The first time you both laid eyes on eachother.

The time she asked you out on your first ever date.

The time she asked you to be her girlfriend.

The time she proposed.

The time she asked you to move in.

Right until the day you both said ' I do' the only soft, truthful words to ever be said to eachother. Maybe if larissa was here she offered up her happiness. You felt everything at once. It was all overwhelming. You wanted to be no where and here at the same time. The sadness you felt inside was unbearable yet no tears dared to escape..... they all stayed dried.

With a sigh you sniffed and made your way towards your seat, sitting besides Wednesday you flicked a warm smile towards her, you weren't sure if it was quite excalty warm though, after all your warmth was laying with her hands on her chest in a small, itchy casket. Larissa hated small spaces, if she was alive she wouldn't even be lying there now..... and that's how you knew she's really dead.

Because in the back of your head, there was a part of you that believed this was all a joke and that maybe thos was all a cruel prank to be played.

" are you ok?" You turned to look at the small girl besides you, forcing a smile you nodded. She definitely didn't believed you, to be honest who would?. Calling your heart broken would be an understatement, you don't know how celion dion sang that song because your heart definitely will not be going on without larissa. If you could have took her hand in death you would have.

"Til death do us part"

Wednesday truly cared for larissa, under her tough goth act there laid a heart of gold for the sapphire, Elsa blond hair and beautifully paled skin beauty.

You were once again broken from your trance as the pastor began to do his speech.

This you realized was your Roman empire, your own wife's death. You should really he celebrating her life but she hardly enjoyed her life. She was too tied up with work and you being on her back 24/7 percent of the time. She wasn't allowed space to breathe, well now she has more than enough.

After the pastor was done doing his speech you stepped on stage to say your urology - your last words. Taking a steady breath, and a long exhale you positioned the paper infront of you on the podium as you tried your best not to allow the tears their accompanied time frame.

" firstly, i want to thank you all for truly being here today so that we can honor our beloved and bright spark, Larissa Weems..... larissa was many things.... she was a principal, to some a English teacher. She was a daughter, a lover, a role model etc but t-to." You sighed as you looked down steading out your breath as your voice broke.

" to me larissa was much more than that in my life. I was a field of dead flowers before I met larissa, a-and she was like the sun that came out, bringing both warmth and healing into my life. She was and will forever be my hero that wore heels and my sunlight that brighten and made my life and day better. S-she never failed to make me smile or laugh, even giggle. I know to many of you she was so much more than just a sun.... she was the entire world even universe. And as we lay her to rest today I hope we all find the time to heal and be storng, because that's who larissa was, storng....."

Everyone sniffed, some clapped, most breaking down in tears. You never ment for anyone to shed even more tears or for any hearts to be broken any more than they already were you just needed everyone to find peace just as much as you wanted to find it as well.

After the funeral was over you hugged everyone goodbye and wished them a safe drive home as you also headed home, already planning to sleep because you couldn't accept the pain that you will feel after arriving home and realizing the house is empty.

As you pulled into the driveway you noticed the door looked pushed open. You weren't in the correct headspace but you knew for sure weren't crazy, you remember closing and locking the door perfectly well after leaving. After switching off the car and getting out you carefully walked up to the house - the mansion.

You fired all employees for three months with pay since you needed the time and house for yourself to simply be human and do human things which in this situation will be to grieve. Upon arrival you inspected the door before pushing it open and stepping inside slowly. If there was an intruder you'd rather catch them in the act, then call the police.

" hello?? Who's there? I suggest you just surrender now or I won't hesitate to call the cops on yo-" as you rounded the corner of the kitchen you saw larissa sitting on top of the countertop with her heels long forgotten on the carpet of the dinning room chair. Her lipstick was smudge as her legs swinged back and forth. She looked...... well not dead obviously. You knew for sure you weren't dreaming and she definitely looked very alive.

She moaned softly as she finished her wine and placed the glass down ontop the counter with a small cling. She sighed as a smirk was quickly painted across her face. You didn't know how to react. Maybe you should scream and run for your life, be happy and joyful or to maybe stay sad just incase this was your own mind manipulating you into a maladaptive dream land trance.

" hello darling....." She spoke in a low husky voice as her eyes flicked up towards yours, they were dark and swirling with desires for many things - things that you knew of and knew not of.

" did you miss me?" She asked as her eyebrows quirked up in a teasing manner. Your body stayed frozen as she jumped off of the counter and strides towards you very slowly. Her hips swayed as the smirk remained on her face. You could hear your rapid heartbeat in your chest with every closer step she took towards you, not breaking eye contact nor curving her lips into a non - smirk.

She finally stopped right infront of you as she tilted her head to the side, inspecting your face, possibly trying her best to read your every emotion as well as she can. As you looked into her eyes you saw, warmth, passion, love, peace, joy, everything that made larissa unique was swirling around in her sapphire iris, you felt your connection spark that you had with her ignite as her hands made their way around your waist pulling you flush against her body.

" I'm alive, my love. Long story but right now I think I'd rather cherish you" she whispered against your earlobe, gently pressing a kiss towards your neck before leaning back to look at your face, but again it remained blank because you did not have any reactions or emotions lingering on your face or in your eyes. It's like you were a statue, frozen before time.

Larissa chuckled softly, her hands making their upwards your chest Slightly grouping your breast making a moan escape your from the back of your throat. She grinned as she pushed you up against the counter. Despite all odds and questions that needed to be asked about everything that happened you needed her badly, she was like a drug that you needed desperately to live. You grabbed her cheeks and forced her lips against yours.

It took her by surprise but she quickly kissed back with the same equal amount of passion. You opened your mouth and gaved her access as she gladly took it by slipping in her tongue and using it to her advantage. Her hands traveled down your body wildly as she squeezed your ass and grabbed your hips harshly as she picked you up and took you to the bedroom.

She kicked the door open with her feet as she switched on the lamp light before throwing you onto the bed aggressively. She crawled up towards you and reconnected both your lips again in a heated, sloppy desperate kiss that spoke so much words that the lips could never utter.

You helped her take off her clothing as she helped you in return.

" fuck I need to taste you darling" she mumbled before spreading your thighs apart and smirking. She bit her bottom lip as she admired your baby pink lace panties before proceeding to pulling it to the side. She groaned as she saw your arousal spreaded all around your cunt as your puffy clit stared back at her. Larissa wasted no time as she enveloped her mouth onto your small bud immediately setting a fast sucking pace.

Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as your hands immediately flew to her hair pulling her even closer.

" your so fucking delicious darling" she purred as the vibrations from her speech made your shiver. Larissa used her hands to hold your thighs open to prevent you from squirming and bucking your hips as her tongue flicked back and forth against your clit in a rapid pace.

" f-fuck, larissa, I'm gonna cum." You whispered as she chuckled darkly, her hot breath on your cunt was driving you crazy. She knew fully well what she was doing to you. Your stomach twisted as you felt larissas fingers trace slow steady circles around your entrance that caused your back to arch.

" so needy for mommy huh baby, you need me to be alive to fuck you senseless" your brain began to get fuzzy, the effect larissa had on you was dangerous - deadly dangerous. Your grip in her hair tighten as your nails digged deeper into her scalp. Your eyes rolled back as she continued to violate your clit endless in the most oragam way possible.

You felt the knot in your stomach tied as it was ready to explode. Your other free hand gripped the sheets as you swore you were gonna leave holes in it.

" such a dirty slut for mommy darling" she cooed as she slowly thrusted her two slender fingers into you at once before pulling them out, and that was all it took before you cummed in her mouth. She removed her lips from your abused bud as she gently kissed it before leaving open mouth kisses on your hot sweaty skin all the way up to your lips.

She watched as you tried to catch your breath as you gently shivered.

" I'm not done yet princess" she whispered before leaning over towards the side table and pulling open the drawer, her hand rumbled around in there for a while before a pink clip on button vibrator cake evident in your eyes. Larissa smirked before snaking her way back down to your pussy. She took both sides of your underwear and pulled it down as you lifted your hips to assist her.

You spread your legs even wider for her. She looked up at you with an evil expression before attaching the vibrator to your sensitive clit. As soon as she turned on the button you collapsed onto the bed in pleasure. You moaned as her hand wrapped around your neck. She leaned down closely to your face, her lips ghosting yours. You leaned in to place a kiss onto her lips but she pulled away chuckling.

" such a needy little girl, letting me do what I want with her needy cunt" you gasped as she slipped her two slender fingers into your cunt, your eyes rolled back as you let out a sigh of satisfaction. You could hear as her fingers went in and out of your wet cunt with squelching noises and your sweet moans and whimpers for her. You were her bitch to fuck.

Her hold on your neck tighten even more as her pace picked up to something more brutal. You cried out as she curled her fingers in you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again that had you going dumb for her and crying. She loved the way your greedy cunt clench led down around her fingers. Your hips rocked back and forth desperate to meet her thrust.

" Come on darling, cum again for me" she cooed as she picked up her pace, pushing her fingers deeper into you lr cunt past knuckle length.

" OH GOD! MOMMY! P-PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE, NEED IT SO BAD" you screamed as larissa pinched your nipple before slapping it, feeling as your body quirked and trashed beneath her, as your cunt spasms around her fingers. You wanted to try to hold off your oragsm a little while longer, not wanting to seem ' truly desperate ' as a whore who just needed her pussy fucked every second of the day by her wife but you simply couldn't.

" I know you want to" she whispered in a sultry voice, and that was the end of you. Your back arched as you let out the most pornographic moan ever to be heard as you coated larissas fingers with your cream. She continued to fuck you through your oragsm until you couldn't take the overstiumlation anymore. She removed her fingers and cleaned them off with her tongue, keeping her eyes on you.

The way her tongue swirled around her everyone finger, licking up your juices that ran down her hand made your cunt throb. You gulp as you cleared your throat.

" I wanna ride you" you spoke lowly and larissa scoffed.

" go on, get the strap then you can fuck yourself on mommy big cock, maybe if we're lucky I can put a baby in you, get you all full and round with my baby" she groaned.

the thought along had you sprinting towards the closest to get the biggest strap with the most deepest curve possible.

And with this you knew tonight was going to be a very very long night....... hopefully one with pleasure and maybe when that's finished you can get the answers you deserve, because you didn't deserve all that pain and heartache.

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obeymeshallwedate-latinplayer · 3 years

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Missing you.

WARNINGS! ANGST (You may cry) NEUTRAL MC. This is NOT a Latin or any nationality oneshot. (https://youtu.be/1XStHaVGxd4) recomendation. (Diavolo I love you so much and I am so sorry about this, please forgive me. I swear I´ll make another where you are as happy as you could be. )

You were pretending, pretending that everything was alright, that the decisions you took long ago was the right choose, but it was all a lie. Of course, you cared about him, he was lonely after all, in your beautiful heart the idea of him sad and alone for eternity was a punishment that you couldn´t imagine, your beautiful heart couldn´t leave you live in peace, knowing that he was going to suffer. Maybe it was pity that your heart felt long ago, maybe you did want to marry him, either way, you regret the decision that you took.

As amazing as it must be, being the eternal partner of the demon king was nothing but overwhelming, the responsibilities just felt like a knife in your back all over again. It was harder than you ever imagine, it was painful but after all, all that pain needed to stay inside of you, nor your husband, or your subjects could ever see your tears or your true feelings.

And that night, you were sure about it. He loved you, he made a masquerade, for you, only you, after all, it was your birthday and you told him once, that it would be lovely to have one of those just for you, just once the words you spread and the wish became true and as true as it could be… it was painful.

The golden crown that he asked Barbatos to get only for that day, was full with precious rubies and sapphires, in the center of the crown was a jewel that match Diavolo´s eyes. And it was heavy, so heavy that you thought you were carrying around six adults’ crows in your head while they sang to you.

The clothing made out of silk was itchy and it was hard to walk or dance with that in your body, after all, it was a matching design for the eternal partner of the king and himself, the shoes were just a punishment, even if they were made from the most exquisite and expensive materials all around the three realms, it was like stepping into knifes, it was like… dancing with knifes, just like the little mermaid the story that your mother told you every night before you went to sleep.

The mask was perfect, it helped to cover your tears and hide your painful smile, while watching him far away from you, the one that in cold nights his hands, and arms and warmth was everything for you, and yet he wasn´t near you in those nights.

The hair and the make up made you wanted to run away, your eyelashes almost touched your eyebrow, you used a red cherry lipstick so you could kiss the king and leave your mark but you didn´t like to make things like that, not in front of him. Your cheeks were pink like the cherry blossom tree that Diavolo gave you at your wedding. Your hair was styled with long and marvelous strings, the idea of taking them out only made you sip your tears and pray that everything was just a dream inside another dream and the time was not the time that you were living in, and maybe it was just like Alice, and you felt into a rabbit whole, maybe… Maybe that would made so much sense, but it didn´t and you weren´t Alice, and this wasn´t a dream inside a dream and you were married but not with him, and you lived in a castle and you were the head of the devils, and it was a fairy tale, but deep inside, you miss him so much. That the only thing you can do is cry in silence, and look at him far away while he diverts his sight so he could not see your eyes, and imagine that maybe if he fought maybe… Maybe things would be different.

But the decision was made, and time does not forgive nor forgave. Your king came for you and kissed your lips before the both leaved the bedroom, and he looked like the king he was meant to be, his hands around your waist. They said that being in love is like dancing in the clouds with that lovely pair of yours, but instead it felt like crawling in mood.

When the little devils started to shout out that the rulers of hell were entering, you took a deep breath and put the mask on, Diavolo helped you out with the black feathers that your mask had, he made you felt like the most beautiful thing in the three realms, and even that wasn´t enough to melt your heart. His crown had a ruby in the middle so you could match and one tear left your eye, you thanked all the holly and unholy that he didn´t saw that tear of yours.

And when you were going down the stairs, he was there with his perfect clothing and the most beautiful mask you have ever seen, you could see his eyes shining just because you were there and that made you fall in love again, you felt his love and eternal devotion, and it was just like a dream. But all the good dreams and all the bad nightmares always ends and so does this. He went to great you with a kiss in your hand and then, then he left. You needed to return to reality, and kiss your one and true “love”, and so you did.

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sweetsubharry · 4 years

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Do you know any Larry fics with relationship during or post the band

yes I do! ^-^ (As a forewarning, under the read more is 47 fics! So this is quite a long post! I just couldn’t narrow them down!) I’ve split them into three sections; x factor, during the band, and ‘hiatus’ :)

In case no one gets to the bottom of the page I’ll say it again here too! Please make sure to stay safe and read the tags!!

X factor era

I'd give up forever to touch you by blankiehxrry

just your typical xfactor fic with a bit of a twist

Just Ask Me To by TellMeThisIsNotLove

“You’re telling the truth,” Louis whispers.

“Of course I’m telling the truth!” Harry doesn’t even care that he sounds exasperated.

“Oh my god.” Louis grabs the wall behind him as if looking for support. His body slides down against it until he’s sitting crouched on the floor.

He mumbles something but Harry can’t really figure out what it is. He crouches down, and looks desperately at the breaking boy in front of him.

“You’re telling the truth,” Louis whispers. “You were not supposed to–”

“I was not supposed to do what? Tell me please,” Harry urges, taking Louis’ hands gently in his.

Or the X Factor era canon fic where they learn how to be a couple and that not everyone is going to be on their sides especially those with plain white t-shirts and saccharine smiles.

horizontal like a quarter to three by orphan_account

The worst part is that Louis just wants to get really rough with him. He's wanted it right from the start, and it doesn't make sense, because Harry's always been so gentle and understanding and sweet, and yet all Louis wants to do is fuck him up.

nonstop earthquake dreams of you by lumineres

And there's heat behind it, blazing, plasmatic, like stars crashing together, like an explosion in space, like a supernova, like a black hole--everything else sucked out of existence. There's no bed and there's no pillow and they're not lying down, just floating somewhere, somehow, and there's no room and there's no X Factor house and there's no Niall snuffling or Liam's deep, even breathing and there's no wind or traffic outside and there's no hum of the heating unit and it's all just Louis. All encompassingly Louis.

or, harry falls hard and finds louis already at the bottom

Could you love me anyway by SadaVeniren

Dear Mistress Lorin: I’ve been reading your blog for a couple weeks now and was hoping you’d give me some advice for something that happened with me and my boyfriend. I’m really worried that I hurt him.

aka Harry and Louis begin playing ping pong during the X-Factor Tour. It quickly gets out of hand.

no we're not friends, nor have we ever been by blankiehxrry

louis and harry get frisky in the xfactor house

give you my fever by beautlouis

And he’s wanted it even more since he met Louis, it's driven him insane, he spends 90% of his life turned on because of Louis and he’s had no relief at all. He’ll wake up at night too hot and itchy, with Louis warm and sweet smelling next to him, and unable to do anything but wank unsuccessfully, with no release. “I can try,” Louis says, close enough that Harry’s eyes cross a little trying to look at him. “I want to, I’ve never been with anybody, like, I’ve snogged people, lots of people, but I’ve never—touched anyone.” He clears his throat. “I’d touch you, Hazza.”

Harry’s breathing picks up. “Yes.” He doesn’t think there was a question but he’s a little overwhelmed. “Yes,” he repeats, dizzy.

*x-factor era. harry's never had an orgasm before, louis gives him his first

During the band

Sweet Baby by jishler

“Haz,” he said, “do you like being held down?”

Drawing a shaky breath, Harry finally looked Louis in the eyes. “I think so.”

Nothing You Can Do (But You Can Learn How To Be You In Time) by Teumessian

A Canon Compliant Semi-AU. Louis braids Harry’s hair. There are good times, bad times, fancy houses, supportive bandmates, secret boyfriends, small rebellions, bigger revolutions, some nail varnish, ribbons, cute clothing, and a Pinterest.

make me feel like i am breathing by crybaby

His eyes are already looking a hint distant as Louis gets comfortable on his knees, running a hand up the hairless expanse of Harry's milky thigh. Harry always starts dipping at the sight of his vibrator, bubblegum plastic with flecks of glitter in the pink. His cheeks pink to match the colour and his eyes go wide, his lips chewing.

(Prompt: how about louis fucking harry with a vibrator backstage before they go on?)

take me into your loving arms by blankiehxrry

twas the night of the brit awards

Just Give Me a Reason by Mr_Stylinson

"Why do people hate me?" is a question Harry is more than desperate to figure out the answer to after reading through negative comments on Twitter about his "What Makes You Beautiful" performance on Red or Black. But this new addiction could potentially decide his fate as a part of One Direction unless the other boys are able to convince their youngest member that his value is defined by far more than a bunch of dumb online comments.

The Pedal's Down, My Eyes are Closed by dancingontheceiling

Louis and Harry bang it out in the dressing room after performing "18" and "No Control" for the first time at OTRA Brussels.

i'm missing half of me when we're apart by orphan_account

Louis can just picture what he looks like right now. Curled up on the big bed in their LA house, wrapped up in one of Louis' sweatshirts, crying his heart out, face red and blotchy, eyes sore, fingers twisted in the blankets as his chest tightens up.

Fallingforyou by gayilystrong

Harry's sick on Tour, which leads to naps in Louis' bunk. Louis of course needs to take care of his baby.

vocal rest remedy by tippytoetomlinstyles

Harry is sick and sad and on vocal rest. Louis helps him get over his sadness by cheering him up the only way he knows how.

Push You Over The Edge (So I Can Pull You Back) by orphan_account

It’s after a long two weeks of interviews and non-stop appearances that have got Harry stressed to the limit of yanking his hair out and throwing a fit and crying that Louis shows it to him, walks in the door with a sleek black bag in his left hand and inconspicuous brown one in his right.

It Feels Right When The Pink Matches His Lips by orphan_account

He adores pink, and pretty colors. He likes deciding what color his nails should be and whether or not this lipstick matches his shirt. He likes rummaging through Jade or Leigh's closets to try on the pretty clothes they have or their make-up drawer out of curiosity.

But the media doesn't. They call him awful names, spewing out article after article. So, he stops. He stops wearing pink, stops painting his nails, stops experimenting with make-up, and Louis notices.

[Featuring Harry as the unconfident member of the biggest boy band in the world and Louis as his very supportive boyfriend.]

Every Move You Make by sunniskies

After the debacle at the Brits, Louis decides he needs to keep better track of Harry.

Obligatory Sickfic by WhoopsImASinner

Harry gets off stage after the Live Lounge and is more than a little upset about how sick he is. Louis takes it upon himself to get his boy home and cheer him up.

Do Not Disturb (kiss me beneath the milky twilight) by SadaVeniren

“I was talking with Nick a couple months back and he was saying how our sex life seemed boring and we’d need to keep doing new and interesting things to keep it exciting or else we’d become boring and heterosexual and I defended us of course but then work picked up and we started living off of studio handjobs and missionary position sex in the dark and so I panicked. I googled BDSM and after looking into it I really want to try some of it because I think we’d enjoy it but we just don’t have the time.”

aka Harry doesn't want to become a boring old married couple a year into their relationship and tries to spice up their sex life.

But I'm Only Human (And I Bleed When I Fall Down). by brooklynbis

Harry wasn't an idiot. He wasn't gullible enough to believe that everyone was going to love him, hell, he was expecting for people to not like him. But a few tweets from Twitter really can be enough to trigger a whole bucket load of emotions.

_______________________

AKA Harry has a lot of emotions, management (particularly Simon) are pieces of shit, Louis is an amazing boyfriend as per, and Liam, Niall and Zayn are all very protective over the youngest member of the group.

You Like Playing Games by orphan_account

Louis knows Harry likes to flirt and tease. Louis knows that he doesn’t particularly like when Harry flirts and teases. Louis knows that Harry knows that Louis doesn’t particularly like it.

But what Louis doesn’t quite know is why, despite that, Harry’s decided to grind against 5 Seconds of Summer’s Luke Hemmings during “Teenage Dirtbag” in the last show in Melbourne.

Basically pure smut.

Make Tea, Not War by adventuring, howdoyouwhisk (popsongdelusional)

"Is he the messiest?"

"Yes."

"Does he do the washing up?"

"Never."

"Does he make his bed?"

"Never."

"Hopeless, hopeless flatmate. Would you rather be with one of these guys?"

"Nope!"

Or: Louis attempts to become a better flatmate, much to Harry's dismay.

Are We In The Clear Yet? by highlinson

The thing is, it’s not anything new. He’s gone through it a dozen times, at least. It shouldn’t scare him, still. Should never have scared him in the first place. Yet he’s trembling as he makes his way through the crowds.

You and Me by louisgrindsonharry

Harry and Louis have dabbled in the idea of BDSM but Harry finally wants to take it farther and Louis has to figure out how to take care of his boy.

We'll All Float On Alright by dancingbean

Harry has a really bad day. Louis is there with cuddles and kisses and scented candles.

You live in my heart by styleztomlinson

As soon as they’re done with their set, Louis only has one thing on his mind and that’s to get out of there as soon as possible.

or,

Harry is sick during their performance at the iHeartRadio festival. Afterwards, Louis takes cares of his baby, and dotes on his husband.

Cause If You Let Me, Here's What I'll Do by stylesforstiles

Five times where Harry is Louis' baby

When the Points Add Up by iwillpaintasongforlou

Louis is physically incapable of following the rules, and Management is smart enough to know his weak spot: Harry. One stunt too many leaves Harry exiled to a room by himself all night and Louis rallies the others to devise a plan to get Harry his cuddles tonight no matter what Management says.

There's a Hole In My Soul, Can You Fill It? by stylesforstiles

Sometimes Harry is so tired. Louis always wants to fix it.

Susceptible to Getting Hurt by page394

"I've always wanted to be one of those people who didn't really care that much about what people thought about them... But I just don't think I am." - Harry

Just What The Doctor Ordered by everyroad

A short little thing about a sick Harry who really just needs his Louis.

Baby, I'm perfect for you by nancy01

Harry broke down in tears. Like loud, ugly, fat tears that made his shoulders shake and his hands come up to hide his face. He made Louis worry, he made Louis scared, he made Louis angry and worst of all now Louis' going to be disappointed in him and think he's being childish and pathetic. well done, have you made yourself proud?. now even louis isn't going to like you, you've pushed him away to.

Louis sighed."Sweetheart, come here." He called with wide opening arms.

Harry doesn't think he's ever moved faster in his entire life. Louis arms wrap around Harry's shoulders, pulling him in close, as Harry buries his neck into Louis' shoulder to try and source maximum comfort.

Paps become to much for Haz, cue protective boyfriend Louis

Never Let You Fall by iwillpaintasongforlou

Harry slips on stage and gets a minor concussion, and Louis insists that he spend the night in the hospital just in case. He then turns into a protective baby lion because that is his Harry and he'll be damned if anything happens to him on Louis' watch. Harry rolls his eyes a lot but doesn't really mind.

Breathe by dontlietomehoney

Harry has an asthma attack and Louis is scared to death. What follows after though, scares both boys, pulling them apart and bringing them together.

Your Reason To Be by KellanCougar

The X Factor was only the start. With their management willing to do anything for headlines, including manipulation that could threaten Harry's very life, Louis fears he will lose everything he loves and be powerless to stop it.

And We Linger On by stylesforstiles

Harry is pouting. Louis takes care of him

don't let nobody touch it (unless that somebody's me) by stylescantstop

written for this prompt:

"louis knows Harry gets handsy when he's drunk, but that doesn't stop him from showing harry who he belongs to."

or the one where harry dances with other men and a jealous louis reminds him he's the only one who can make him come completely apart.

that boy's got my heart in a silver cage by orphan_account

The whole thing is addictive somehow, and not just because of the way that it makes Louis feel, like Harry is his and he'll do anything he says—but because of the way Harry reacts to it, even in public, twisting in his seat and tripping over his words and once even briefly hiding his face in Louis's shoulder because he's so flustered, causing the girls in the audience to squeal and shout.

if we got nothing, we got us by tumsa

Harry is Louis' baby and he's sick as well.

Okay by JustAnotherShadow503

Harry is frustrated.

It's been almost two years since he and Louis got back together, and nothing has changed. Well, they have changed, and their situation has gotten a lot better, but their sex life? Vanilla. Completely and utterly vanilla.

Harry really thought that after Louis' dirty talk when they got back together, they would get into some kinkier shit, but nope. Louis still makes love to him and calls him sweet names, and that's nice, Harry absolutely loves it, but sometimes, he gets this itch that making love can't scratch.

Or, the one where Harry and Louis try to start a dom/sub BDSM relationship, and nothing goes according to plan.

Gentle Sin by userkant

Harry gasps. He gasps at what must be a sudden pain, or maybe at his sudden orgasm that has him tightening around Louis, forcing Louis’ own release, or maybe all of these things are connected.

Or, Louis discovers a few things about Harry.

A fic about kink exploration and pleasure-pain featuring baby boyfriends, tenderness, and gentle dom Louis.

I'll Look After You by stylesforstiles, TrynaGetStylinson

Harry's had enough with the mobs. He just needs someone to tell him it will all be ok.

Let Me Be Good For You by onlyhuman

His distress over the bun is nothing compared to the thrill Louis feels shoot up his spine at the outfit Harry’s donned. He’s changed into leather jeans that cling to his legs, hugging his thighs snugly. On top of it, a floaty, black sheer shirt is contouring his frame, doing absolutely nothing to hide his puffy nipples or the endless array of tattoos scattered across his torso. It’s Louis’ favourite outfit in the entire world.

Or, Niall's only birthday wish is to go clubbing with his boys in Vegas. Harry ruins it all by wearing that god forsaken black sheer shirt.

leave you drowning until you reach for my hand by orphan_account

If Louis told him to do something that he really didn't want to do, it would be different, but Louis's never done that, never asked anything of Harry that he couldn't handle. Except—except maybe this; to obey him without praise, reward, approval, or even mere acknowledgement.

Beneath the Suits by someonethatsfunny

Harry and Louis had a bit of a ritual when it came to award shows. And that ritual didn’t lend itself very well to after parties or being around other people in general. Nope. They were much better off alone where they could have their own private celebration. So what happened after the AMAs then when Niall and Liam head to an after party and Harry and Louis were nowhere to be found? Well, obviously we can't be sure, but it was probably something along the lines of ....

During ‘hiatus’

Mon Petit by coffinofachimera

Harry wears the 'Mon Petit' sweater while Louis records them on their private plane.

Things Are Pretty Good From Here by ItIsWhatItIs9194, Teddy1008

Harry's just released "Sign of the Times," and of course, Louis can't help but want to let his sub know how proud he is of him with more than just words.

They basically fuck.

head head heart by turnyourankle

After Dunkirk has wrapped filming, Harry struggles with his inability to reach subspace. He tries taking the matter in his own hands before Louis intervenes with a plan of his own.

Model's Own by Domeaspreadsheet

Harry hadn’t wanted him to see the Another Man shoot until it dropped, wanted it to be a surprise. He’d already come home with his hair chopped off, how many surprises could there be?

Louis pulls up Harry’s instagram, the notifications for three posts coming through right after the other. Harry was off at a spin class, and here Louis sits, staring at Harry’s face, the three covers forming a neat line, all so different, yet all so very Harry. He zooms in on one, knows he must be seeing it wrong, but no. Harry is wearing a collar. On the cover of a fucking magazine.

Beside Me Like a Silhouette by Domeaspreadsheet

“Quite the ruckus from someone who thought they were coming home to a sleeping household,” Louis says on an exhale of smoke.

Oh. Harry has been set up.

“Well, maybe if I hadn’t thought you were bailing on me I would have tried harder to be quiet,” he huffs.

Louis levels his gaze at him. “Is that so?”

Harry nods.

“Very well. You have fifteen minutes to shower and put in the plug I left on the bathroom counter. No need to dress afterward. When you come back, kneel next to the chair on my right. You may go.”

redder than the devil by mercutionotromeo

It's half past 9, and all Harry wants is for Louis to touch him. Preferably after a good spanking.

If you combine a lazy Saturday afternoon with a distracting, pouty Harry, you'll end up with Louis spanking his baby over his knee in the middle of a paused FIFA match.

i'll be your sunflower by scagnetism

“What do you think’s gonna stop us now?” Harry says cheekily, laughter in his voice as he looks up at Louis. “Something’s gotta get in our way like always, doesn’t it?”

“Ha,” Louis grins, kissing his cheek and holding open the door for him as they make their way toward the car. “Nothing’s gonna interrupt us this time. ‘S gonna be perfect, just like Pumpkin.”

Or, a few interruptions aren't going to stop Harry from having a perfect pregnancy and having the family he and Louis have always dreamed of.

Take Me for a Spin by QuickedWeen

The night of the Pride of Britain Awards 2016. Louis goes to the ceremony and out to the club afterwards, but what is Harry up to?

Baby, Honey by lovelarry10

Harry's been talking about sex and babies on stage too much for Louis' liking, so he decides to give him what he wants...

Or the one with the aftermath of Harry's Detroit concert...

Half Fragment by coffinofachimera

Louis and Harry share a night together through the phone.

As always I hope you enjoy these! Make sure you read the tags and stay safe lovelies ❤

#sub harry #bottom harry #dom louis #top louis #larry stylinson #larry #fanfiction #fic rec #larry fic #larry fic rec #larry stylinson fanfiction #larry fanfiction #larry fanfic rec #Lottie fic rec #ask lots

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pixiegrl · 3 years

Text

Am I Pretty?

Part 18 of Lingeriesos:

Luke’s having a hard time adjusting to being home from Australia.

I need to preface this by saying it's a very body image heavy piece. Ages ago, @lifewasradical suggested a prompt based on "Am I Pretty?" By The Maine and I wrote this when I was not in a good headspace personally. Alot of Luke's feeling are how I feel and it's not representative of everyone. Just as a general warning. I'm not sure what else to say here other than I hope people enjoy reading it, even if it's more angst than normal. There’s also talk of eating disorders and panic attacks.

On ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28643556

Luke’s having a panic attack in his bathroom. He’s a grown man and he shouldn’t be, but here he is. Luke has felt off-kilter all morning, feels too big and too loud, like he’s taking up all the space in their house without meaning to. He’d woken up just feeling wrong in his own body, attempted to go downstairs for breakfast and found that the thought of food made him nauseous. He tried to eat breakfast this morning, but he’d almost lost it, looking at the omelet Ashton made, hands shaking, brain telling him that he doesn’t need to eat, not when he feels like this, not when his body just feels wrong. He couldn’t stomach eating anything, kept gagging just thinking about food. He’d gotten into an argument with Ashton about it, snapping when Ashton had told him to eat something. It had turned into some stupid fight about Luke’s habits and Ashton’s need to be in control and had ended in Luke grabbing his coffee mug and storming back to their bedroom. It’s mid-morning now and Luke feels shaky and hungry, but his brain isn’t cooperating with him, stuck on an anxiety loop about his fight with Ashton that he’s only made worse by going into the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror.

Luke made the stupid decision to get on the scale they have in the bathroom (he’s not even sure why they have one) and he’s freaking out because he saw the number. Granted, Luke doesn’t feel any different. His body looks the same, his clothing fits the same, he feels fine, but the scale’s told Luke that he’s gained some weight. Luke also logically knows that it’s the holiday season and he’s been home in LA more and also in Australia, so his diet’s been off and he shouldn’t be freaking out about it, but he is. He’s standing in his bathroom freaking out because his brain doesn’t know how to handle things, anxiety taking over, trapping him in it’s cycle. It’s not even a lot of weight, but it’s enough that Luke’s spiraling a bit, hyper aware of it now, sitting on the bathroom floor trying to remind himself to breathe, scared that if he stands up and sees himself in the mirror he’ll start really panicking.

It’s stupid that Luke’s brain is like this. It’s been like this since he was young, right when they had started getting famous, pushed more into the public eye. He’s always felt so scrutinized, everyone’s focus on him and how he looked, how he acted. It had gotten worse when he’d suddenly gotten taller, broader, looking more like he does now. He’s always felt pressure to look a certain way, act a certain way, be a certain way. He’s always been hyper aware of how he looks, the image he’s portraying. It’s gotten a little better recently, the freedom of being able to express himself with makeup, jewelry, lingerie and dresses, Ashton’s constant love and support, putting him more at ease, making him more comfortable with his body.

Luke’s been in Australia for a few weeks though, unable to do any of those things. He’s enjoyed being home, getting to do wedding plans, spending time with his family and Ashton’s family. He knows he’s been on edge for awhile, taken out of his routine, and making the stupid decision to get on the scale was really just the tipping point. Luke takes a seat on the floor, back to the tub, knowing that if he stands any longer, staring at himself in the mirror, he’s going to end up on his knees throwing up like he did when he was a teenager, stressed and anxious.

Luke takes a few shallow breaths, trying to count to ten, feeling the cold of the bathtub at his back, trying to ground himself before he slips too far. He knows this is really just one part of the whole problem too. Having to wear nothing but his more masculine clothing back home with his parents has put him into a strange headspace. Even when he’s on tour, Luke still has some freedom in what he wears off stage, what he puts on under his clothing. He doesn’t get that when he goes to see his parents.

Luke put on his favorite part of panties this morning, soft pink cotton with little stars on them, after wearing nothing but his boxer briefs during the trip, and all he can focus on is how big he feels. He feels too large, too masculine, too much to be wearing them now. He feels itchy and uncomfortable, stretched too thin, out of place. Luke hates feeling like this, not feeling at home in his body. It sucks because he’s gotten comfortable over the last few months wearing his dresses and skirts and lingerie in public, painting his face and being free, being himself when he’s out doing things. He’s just gotten comfortable being able to express himself outside of his home and now he’s back to where he was ages ago, feeling like even the panties are too much, not right on his already large frame.

Luke’s trying to will himself not to cry, shoulders shaking slightly, head against the lip of the tub, when he hears Ashton calling his name. Luke doesn’t trust himself to answer, still hoping that he can hold it together long enough that by the time Ashton finds him, he’ll be okay. Ashton’s voice gets closer, until Luke can hear him outside the bathroom door, knocking on it lightly. Luke takes a couple deep breaths, shoulders shaking slightly with the effort of it.

“Luke, are you in there?”

“Yeah,” Luke says, startled by how broken he sounds.

“Do you want me to come in?” Ashton asks, tentative. It’s something they started back when Luke was living with Ashton the first time around, when the world was too much and he was close to breaking. Ashton put the choice into Luke’s hands, not asking Luke if he could come in, but asking Luke what he wanted. Giving Luke the power to decide how much or how little he wanted Ashton involved. Luke has never once turned Ashton away, desperately needs Ashton as his rock, his grounding presence, but Luke’s always been grateful for the choice Ashton gives him every time.

Luke considers it now, turning Ashton away. He doesn’t want Ashton to see him like this, but the thought of being without Ashton makes his chest tight and his throat close up. Luke just wants someone to hold him. Luke lets out a strangled sound, managing a choked out yes when Ashton asks the question again, concern and alarm clear in his voice. Ashton pushes the door open, making a sad noise in his throat when he sees Luke on the floor, kneeling down and wrapping Luke up in his arms, holding him close while Luke wraps his arms around Ashton, tears suddenly coming, streaming down his face.

“Oh sweetheart,” Ashton says, pushing Luke’s curls back and kissing his temple. Luke hiccups, sniffling around his tears. He lets Luke keep crying, body shaking as Luke tries to regain control of himself. Eventually he runs out of tears, sniffling slightly. Luke feels a little more aware of himself, but the out of body experience is still there, the feeling of it being not quite right hanging over him.

“Do you want to talk about it or do you want to cry about it and let me hold you?” Ashton asks, when Luke’s hiccups have calmed down.

“I don’t know. I just...I woke up feeling wrong and overwhelmed and I can’t breathe now. I can’t stop thinking about how I look, how I feel. My brain won’t stop telling me I’m too big, too much, that I’m a burden and a bother and I just want to stop feeling like this,” Luke says, pressing his face into Ashton’s shoulder, letting Ashton run his hands through his curls.

“Why do you feel like this? You haven’t talked about this since the first lingerie set you bought.”

“We went home. We stopped touring and we stayed home and I got comfortable. I got comfortable going out in public in dresses and skirts and wearing the lingerie under my clothing and no one caring. We go out to restaurants and local places and no one bats an eye, no one thinks I’m Luke Hemmings in a dress, they just see me. And then we went home and I just...I felt like I had to put myself back in a box for my parents. I’m just uncomfortable in my own body now, like everything I’m doing is wrong. I didn’t feel right back home, but it’s like being in that mindset for a few weeks has just made me feel out of place here now. And I made the stupid choice to get on the scale and now I just don’t feel right Ash and I hate it and I hate that I’m crying about this,” Luke rushes out in one breath. He feels Ashton’s hand pause, hears Ashton hum quietly, before he starts his movement again.

“Luke, you’ve never too much, you’re never a burden. I know it’s hard for you to understand that when your brain doesn’t want you to, but I love you. You can never be too much for me. You’re beautiful and wonderful.”

“Even when I’m like this?”

“Like what?”

“Miserable. Angsty. I can’t get out of my head and I feel so itchy in my own skin and I only feel comfortable sitting here in my underwear, but now I can’t even think of it as my underwear because I couldn’t wear it for weeks. I just...I wish I was different. I wish I didn’t feel like this. I wish I was comfortable in my body, I wish I could be a better partner, I wish I was just...better.”

“Luke, I don’t want you any other way. This is you, this is who you are. All your good parts and bad parts, the perfect bits and all of the flaws you see in yourself. They make you who you are. They make you beautiful. And you love me, even when I’m locking myself away for hours or when I’m depressed, when I was binge drinking all the time and when you had to handle me getting sober. That’s what being in love is, all the good parts and the bad parts and the in between parts,” Ashton says. He tilts Luke’s head up, smoothing back a curl and pressing a soft kiss to Luke’s forehead. Luke sighs, leaning into it, closing his eyes. He still feels itchy and stretched to thin, but it feels nice, knowing Ashton’s here for him, that Ashton loves him.

“Promise?”

“I promise. I love you, all of you.”

Luke nods, leaning into Ashton, matching his breathing to Ashton’s until he feels calmer, more centered.

Eventually, he feels Ashton shift, straightening his legs out, Luke shifts too, tilting his head up to look at Ashton.

“Thank you.”

“I love you, Luke. You’re welcome. Now, do you want food? Water? Cuddles?”

“Can we have a snack in bed? Watch a movie?”

“Of course darling,” Ashton says, smiling softly, pressing a kiss to Luke’s forehead pulling him to his feet, leading him back to bed. Luke gets comfortable while Ashton goes back downstairs, getting popcorn and water, letting Luke set up something for them to watch. Luke gets under the covers, curling up, grabbing Petunia when she ventures into the bedroom and cuddling with her until Ashton gets in. He curls up at Luke’s side, letting Luke put his head in his lap, playing with Luke’s curls. Luke still doesn’t feel quite right, still feels stretched too thin, but he feels better now, softer. Knowing that Ashton loves him, cares for him, even when Luke’s being irrational and scared and unhappy, makes Luke feel better. It reminds Luke that this is what love feels like. This is what their love feels like.

#5 seconds of summer #lashton #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #body image tw #weight tw #references to alchoholism #alcohol tw #its a slightly more angst piece than i normally do for this series #projection was strong #my writing #eating disorder tw #panic attack #lingerie Luke #lingerie sos

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chuffyfan87 · 4 years

Text

Growing Pains. Part 8c

"We treat addicts every day but you just don't think it's gunna happen to one of your own kids."

“Hmm.”

"After everything that's happened this evening I'm almost scared to call Millie's mum in case I find out that the twins have done a bunk instead of being at a sleepover there..!" She grimaced.

Charlie laughed, “Or there’s one child sleeping soundly and the other has gone awol.” He joked.

"Tilly!" Duffy giggled.

Emily wriggled and stretched on her mum's lap her eyelids fluttering open. "Daddy?" She mumbled.

“Hello gorgeous. Are you okay?” He stroked her hair.

"Yeh." Emily's tummy rumbled loudly.

“Are you hungry? When was the last time you ate something?”

Emily nodded, mumbling her reply to her dad's second question.

He stroked her cheek. “Is my princess ok?”

Emily glanced up at her mum and nodded.

"Given time I think you will be." Duffy encouraged.

“Do you want something to eat?” Charlie asked.

"Please." Emily replied. Though there was still a lot of things whirling around in her head she felt a little calmer after seeing Beth and talking to her mum.

“What would you like, Princess?”

"A sandwich?"

"I can get you one Em. You go be with Louis." Duffy told Charlie.

“Are you sure?”

“Is he ok?” Emily sat up rubbing her eyes.

"Yeh, Louis needs you." Duffy replied.

“I didn’t expect all this to happen.” Emily spoke in a barely a whisper.

"Emmy?" Duffy prompted gently. "Did you know what Louis was doing?"

Emily chewed her lower lip. “Promise you won’t get angry? Either of you?”

"I promise." Duffy replied, anxious to know what Emily knew.

“I know he’s smoked weed a few times. Just weed, nothing else.”

The realisation hit Duffy instantly. "That's what you were trying to tell me about that time!" She gasped.

Emily smiled sadly, “I promised I kinda wouldn’t say anything. I didn’t think it was such a big problem.”

"Its ok, its not your fault." Duffy soothed her daughter, looking pointedly at Charlie who had so far remained silent.

“It’s not your fault sweetheart.” Charlie kissed Emily's forehead.

"When Jake and Krystal dragged him through the door earlier I was so scared." Emily admitted.

“I would’ve been scared too. But I’m so proud of you for calling an ambulance and making sure he was ok.” Charlie praised his daughter.

"Peter just suddenly arrived. Is he OK? He seemed really upset."

“He’s got a lot on his mind too. I think he’ll be ok.”

"Will Louis be OK?" Emily asked nervously.

Charlie nodded, “He will be. When we get him the help he needs.”

"Let's get you a sandwich princess." Duffy prompted. "I'll call Krystal's parents." She told Charlie. "You go be with Louis."

Charlie kissed Duffy’s forehead and then Emily’s before getting up off the floor.

Louis was still in resus waiting for a bed upstairs to become available so he could be transferred.

Charlie returned to Resus and sat down beside Louis’ bed. He stroked his thumb over the back of Louis' hand.

The teenager was lucky to be alive.

Charlie sighed, where did he go wrong again? Everything seemed to be falling apart, quickly spiralling out of control. He moved and kissed Louis’ forward before sitting back down again.

Various staff wandered in and out of the room going about their daily routine but Charlie barely noticed them. He was too preoccupied with trying to take in all that had happened this evening with his children. So much had happened in such a short space of time.

He took small comfort in the fact that his youngest children seemed to be ok and happy.

A while later Duffy came into resus. "The kids are sleeping in your office." She told her husband quietly. "How is he?"

“Still asleep and lucky to be alive.”

"What made him do it?" She sighed. "I think Peter and Jake will both have a hell of a hangover in the morning."

“I don’t know. He’s got a lot on his mind by the sounds of things. I just wish he could have come and talked to me.”

"Maybe he will. Maybe this will have given him enough of a fright."

“I hope so.”

She grabbed a chair and sat down next to him, fidgeting with edge of the cast on her wrist.

“How’s your wrist?” He asked gently.

"Itchy." She frowned. "I feel like such an idiot walking around with it on."

“Accidents happen. Least it didn’t break using those handcuffs of ours. It could be worse.”

"I would have died having to explain that to Zoe." She cringed.

“It’s Zoe. She’s probably a secret kinky one too.” He smirked.

"I'll tell her you said that!"

A period of silence descended over them before Duffy sighed. "We're gunna have to deal with Sarah's parents again aren't we? What's the bet they end up making it all out to be Peter's fault?" She grumbled.

He shrugged, “It takes two to tango and Sarah was just as willing by the sounds of things.”

"Oh was she now? How would you know?!"

“He was talking to me. A while ago, when it happened. Said it just happened. They went outside the pub to talk and they ended up you know, shagging.” He paused, “It was probably then.”

"Of all the stupid, irresponsible..!"

“Pot kettle...” He raised an eyebrow.

"They're supposed to learn from our lapses in judgement, not repeat them!"

“I know.”

"I really thought he was finally getting his life together. That he'd settle down with Holly. Don't get me wrong, I've always liked Sarah but she's caused him so much pain."

“It might not even be Peter’s.” Charlie replied without thinking.

"What?!" Duffy gasped, her eyes wide.

“Sarah has a boyfriend.”

"Oh... Oh!"

Charlie shrugged, “Maybe Peter’s just doing what he thinks is right?”

"I swear if she's lied to him..!" Duffy's temper was bubbling.

“Hey. We don’t know if she has.” He reassured.

"She's been determined to trap him for years and she's finally succeeded." Duffy was close to tears, the evening's events were starting to overwhelm her.

Charlie pulled her into a hug and rubbed her lower back, “Ssh babe. You’re getting yourself all worked up.”

Feeling his arms around her she finally gave in and let the tears begin to fall.

He held her tightly as she cried on him.

After a few minutes Duffy pulled back, wiping at her damp cheeks. "I'm sorry. Here I am crying when it's your son who nearly died this evening. You must think I'm so selfish."

“No I don’t.” He kissed the top of her head, “It’s been hard for us both. He’s your son too.”

"Not as far as he's concerned." She sighed.

He sighed. “He does love you, Duffy.”

"I wish I believed you."

“He does. I just think sometimes that scares him.” Charlie said sadly.

"He still blames me. He always will."

“Blames you for what?”

"His mum."

“His mum dying?”

"You and her splitting up, moving to Canada, her death, being made to come back... All of it." She sighed.

“Has he told you that?” Charlie asked gently with a sad smile.

"He tends to save the worst of his outbursts for when you're at work."

“I think he’s confused and doesn’t know what to do. Or feel.” He frowned, “He’s never hurt you, has he?”

"Not physically. Though I can't say it doesn't hurt when he repeatedly yells 'you can't tell me what the fuck to do, your not my mum!' at me in front of his younger brothers. That has raised some difficult questions."

“I’m sorry.” Charlie kissed her cheek. Just as Louis stirred, beginning to wake.

The teenager's eyes were glazed and unfocused.

“Louis?” Charlie touched his arm.

Though Louis was awake it was clear that his body was struggling with the come down.

Charlie sighed, “It’s okay son.”

Louis roared, lashing out to throw his father's hand off his arm. His glazed eyes scanned the room, why was he here? Where was here? He was hot and shaking.

“Louis, it’s dad. You’re in hospital.” Charlie moved closer to Louis, hoping his voice could calm him.

Louis tried to get up. He needed to get out of here. He needed to find his friends.

“You can’t go anywhere Louis, you need to stay here.”

"No!" Louis managed to get off the bed and stumbled across to the counter pushing things around, clearly searching for something.

“Son, please. You need help.” Charlie begged.

"Louis, please, listen to your dad!" Duffy begged.

"Bitch!" Louis screamed, picking up the sharps box and launching it at his stepmother.

Charlie stood in front of Duffy, “You don’t want to hurt her, Louis. You’re just scared and confused.”

"Get me what I need." Louis demanded though his words were stuttered and somewhat jumbled.

“You don’t need it. You’re trying to escape something, what is it? Why are you using?”

"Fuck. You." Louis replied, his rage increasing.

“Talk to me? Please? You used to tell me everything.”

"Then you chose her." Louis slumped to the floor, the shaking getting rapidly worse.

“We’ve been through this.” Charlie sat on the floor and grabbed the blanket, wrapping it around Louis. “There’s something upsetting you, what is it?”

"Wish she was dead. Not mum." Louis mumbled.

“You miss your mum, it’s only natural.”

"I've tried my best Louis. I know I can never replace your mum." Duffy replied sadly.

Louis shook his head but didn’t verbally reply.

Duffy sighed. "I'm going to go check on the others. Me being here clearly isn't helping."

Once again, Louis didn’t speak. His body was shaking a lot by now.

"I'm going to get Dylan." Duffy added as she left resus.

“Thank you.”

After finding Dylan and sending him to help Charlie Duffy was surprised to find Peter awake as she entered her office.

“My head hurts.” He mumbled, rubbing his forehead.

"I'm not surprised." Duffy sighed, taking a bottle of water from her handbag and handing it to him.

“Why do you always have water in your handbag?” He asked with a smile.

"Hydration is important." She shrugged.

#chuffy #charlie and duffy #charlie fairhead #lisa duffin

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katekarnage7 · 5 years

Text

Stairway to Heaven

Okay, so, basically, instead of writing one of my many alphabet prompts, I opened up a Google Docs page and started writing. The inspiration was kind of just flowing and I wrote about 2,000 words that I’m now going to share with all of you. Quick warning: This is majorly depressing and comes from my current angst-ridden emotional state. Enjoy!

This can also be found on AO3 right here!

---

Castiel has been many things. An Angel of the Lord, a soldier, a warrior, a friend, a guardian, a Winchester. No matter what you decide to label him, there is only one label that means anything to him. You would think it would be ‘Angel of the Lord’ but it’s not.

His angelic roots mean nothing to him. His days of being a soldier are as meaningless as blades of grass being shredded. The only title that has ever meant anything to him is Winchester. He watches over them.

Or at least he did.

But in any case, he’s proud to be the Winchesters’ brother-in-arms. Then, one day came that he became more than that. He was no longer Castiel, Angel of the Lord. He became Castiel, Dean Winchester’s angel.

Nothing has ever meant more to him than that.

His love for Dean has been a long-growing flower that bloomed two years ago on the dot. That was the day when he finally made Dean his. When he finally became a true Winchester. He had two years of the happiest days he’s had in his long, long life.

Two years of pure magic that he never thought possible. He never even dreamed of that beautiful, enchanting sense of happiness that was his life. But, of course, all good things must come to an end.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The steady sounds of the EKG bring him back into the real world. His hands are cold and slippery as they cling to each other in his lap. Dean’s lifeless looking body torments him from the sterile hospital bed.

His throat is raw and his eyes are itchy from crying. He didn’t even know he could cry until now. It’s a very human thing, isn’t it? Angels aren’t designed to feel emotion. They’re not designed to cry.

He was never supposed to fall in love with a human, however, he supposes he’s never quite followed the rules. It’s just as Naomi said, there’s a crack in his chassis. A glitch in his robot-like programming.

He used to wish that he was normal. That he didn’t feel these complex things that humans call emotions. And now? Now he’s glad that he can feel all of it. The joy, the beauty, the sensation. Even the pain and torment that he’s endured have all been worth it because of the man lying in front of him.

His humanity has always been a weakness but now he knows that it’s a strength. He braves a glance at the love of his life’s face. It’s cold and clammy, frail even. Those are the effects of cancer.

It’s a disease that festers and spreads inside your body, wreaking havoc upon its systems. Cancer is dark and infectious in its nature. It’s a disease that should be long-eradicated. And yet it’s not. The worst part is that, in his human state, he is powerless to save Dean. His Righteous Man.

The last way Dean ever expected to go out was cancer. He told Castiel that himself. Apparently, the man thought it would be ‘pedal to the metal’ until he died in a blaze of glory. Where’s the glory in this?

Dean has slowly been wasting away for months. The bags underneath his eyes have gotten darker and heavier with each passing day. His body has gotten thinner and far frailer than Castiel thought possible. Dean’s once-powerful muscles have grown weak and decrepit.

Castiel once thought that God - Chuck, he supposes - was all-knowing and self-giving. That he provided a fair, beautiful world for humans to live in. Even though he was aware of the flaws of the human world back then, he thought it was simply the human’s corrupt touch that ruined it.

But how could any fair world allow this to happen to Dean? His beloved should not be in a hospital bed fighting for his life because of this disgusting disease. He should be smiling and eating all the pie his heart desires.

How is this fair? How can any world with a present god allow this to happen? These thoughts echo in his head. Rage fills him and he feels the urge to get up and scream until his voice is rough and hoarse. He wants to tear down Heaven block by wretched block until they finally agree to heal Dean.

He’s been praying for months but no angel will come to his rescue. The cruelty of his supposed family eats away at him. If only he had his Grace, he could fix everything! He could set the world right!

After all, there is no world without Dean Winchester. Not one that Castiel wants to live in anyway. Dean has been the only light in the darkness of his life for so long. He’s been his sun and stars. His world.

And now his world is falling to pieces right in front of him.

It’s all too much. In moments, he’s up and out of his seat. He throws open the door to Dean’s room in the hospital and storms out. His vision is blinded by tears as he rushes out of the hospital. In all honesty, he has no idea where he’s going, all he knows is that he has to keep moving.

He runs until his body is weak and shaky. He collapses onto the cold, damp grass. The sky above him is bright and lit with glowing stars that seem to taunt him with their endless beauty. He wants to shout. He wants to cry out into the heavens and beg them to help him.

Unfortunately, Heaven, Hell, the universe itself is cold and uncaring. How do humans live like this? How do they live each day with the weight of death hanging over them? Thinking of Dean in that hospital bed destroys Castiel. He can barely breathe, barely function. How do humans do it? How do they live knowing every day might be their last? Knowing that every day they could lose the love that they’ve fought so desperately for?

Castiel’s heart aches as he lays in the grass. There are tall, dark pines lining the peaceful clearing. This is a place that he would have taken Dean for a picnic. This is a place he could have been very human indeed and asked Dean a question that lives in infamy.

A declaration of love.

Now he will never get to hear Dean’s answer to that question. He will never be able to slip a ring that shows their everlasting bond onto Dean’s finger. There will be no more sunny days. Only this cold, isolating feeling.

He lies in the grass, feeling nothing whatsoever. And that’s how he stays. Perfectly numb. He cannot handle the overwhelming pain that rips into him whenever he thinks of his beloved’s thin face. How is he supposed to handle this?

After eternities of knowing exactly what to do, this makes him feel like he’s drowning in hopelessness. He was supposed to be able to save Dean. That’s what he’s done all along, isn’t it? And now… Now he’s a failure through and through.

He failed as an angel. He failed a soldier. He failed as Dean’s angel. All he has left is this desperate feeling in his chest. He wants to cling to whatever happy memories he has of his beloved, knowing that there may never be others.

He feels a hot prickle in his nose and suddenly, tears start trickling down his face. That soft crying soon breaks out into sobbing. He cries out and thrashes on the ground, his heart breaking in his chest.

Dean always used to tease him for how he said “Hello, Dean” whenever they saw each other. And now… Now only two words are echoing inside his head. Goodbye, Dean.

---

The funeral is the hardest part. Having to pretend that he’s perfectly fine even though the love of his life is dead and gone. And for good this time. Sam is a mess and has been since they learned of Dean’s cancer. Sam desperately began searching for a cure but… It was cancer. Humans are apparently quite fond of pointing out the impossibility of a cure for cancer. There was nothing to be done. Castiel realized that quite soon.

Back then, he simply wanted to make Dean’s remaining time comfortable and enjoyable. He vowed to help Dean with everything and be the angel he needed. Now, Dean Winchester, the love of his life, is simply gone and there’s nothing to be done about it.

Dean’s death was quite sudden. One moment he was breathing and had a pulse, and the next… Nothing. The noise of that EKG will haunt him forever. A flat beeping noise that lives in his nightmares.

Dean’s once bright green eyes that reminded him of apple orchards in the summer heat became cold and unseeing. Unfeeling. Those eyes, those freckles, that stubborn personality… All of it is… was what made Dean Winchester.

Humans say that bad things happen for a reason. Well, Castiel disagrees. Bad things don’t happen for a reason. They just happen. One moment, you feel so happy that you could fly and the next, you’re drowning in an endless sea of despair.

The worst part is that there is no rhyme or reason. There’s just that all-consuming pain.

Now, six months after Dean’s death, he is standing at his grave. The sky is cloudy and dark. There is no sun, no chirping birds. Just a sense of sadness that permeates the air. Hot tears spill down his cheeks.

“Hello, Dean,” he croaks. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to visit. I… It’s not been easy without you. Sam is… He’s not doing so well and neither am I. We miss you. I miss you. I miss your references that I never understood, even with Metatron’s knowledge. I miss your beautiful smiles and kind eyes.”

“I miss your jokes and the way you used to try to make me laugh even though it was a lost cause. I miss the way you brought light into my life. The way that you saw my darkness and decided to pull me out of it with a simple “Hey, Cas” and just made everything better.”

Castiel clears his throat, willing away the tears. “I know you wouldn’t want me to cry. It’s far too human. But I… I need you to come back to me. Please. I’ll beg if I have to. You’re Dean Winchester! You always come back!” Anger festers inside of him and begins to boil over. “How dare you leave me on my own?!” he yells.

The blissfully empty graveyard consumes his screams into its emptiness. He balls up his fists. “I never even-” his voice breaks. “I never even got to say goodbye. Not properly. Not the way I wanted to, so you have to come back. Please just come back. I want to see you again. I want to feel you in my arms again. I want you to kiss me like nothing else matters.”

“I want to fall asleep with you. I want to brush your hair away from your forehead and tell you how beautiful you are.” He falls to his knees in the grass. “Come back to me,” he whispers, tears slipping down his face and onto the turned over ground marking Dean’s grave.

After a moment, he stands up and wipes the tears away. “I’ll be back soon,” he says, his heart heavy in his chest. “Goodbye, Dean,” he whispers as he turns his back on his beloved’s grave and walks out of the graveyard.

It’s never seemed right to say goodbye, however, now he has to. He clambers into the Impala and starts the engine. As he pulls away from the graveyard in Dean’s beloved car, he turns on the radio.

Led Zeppelin's song “Stairway to Heaven” begins to play and the graveyard becomes a dot in his rearview mirror.

---

And there ya have it! Some fresh angst! I hope you guys enjoyed that and if you want me to tag you for my future random writing posts, just let me know. If you’re wondering about the alphabet prompts, the next one should be up next week if all goes well. Thank you for reading!

As always, if you want to view the fic on AO3, it’s here.

#destiel #angst #basically just cas being sad #spn #spn fic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #destiel fanfic #y'all there is something wrong with me #this fic is my emotional state

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tiny-maus-boots · 5 years

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30 min Surf Aubrey hc

30 min Surf Chloe hc can be found here

- When Aubrey was 4 her family moved to California from the Army base she was born on in Germany. It looked different and smelled different. The city was loud and busy and not at all the type of hustle and bustle she was used to. People spoke differently and had fewer manners. Even the air felt different, itchy and uncomfortable. She’d spent almost a year waiting for their ‘vacation’ to be over so she could go home to the base.

- The day she realized there was no going back was the day The Sickness started. Aubrey hadn’t meant to but the overwhelming loss of knowing she was never going home again rose in a hot wash of acid and spewed out all over her mother’s pristine kitchen. She spent the rest of the day in bed and was only comforted when her father came in to sing to her.

- The next day he took her to the beach for the first time and she couldn’t take her terrified green eyes off the motion of the water. She knew how to swim of course. She didn’t even remember a time when she didn’t know how to swim. But the pool was nothing like this…living, breathing, beast. Her father read the tension in her body and lifted her in his arms and RAN them right into the next wave clothes and all. The water was cold and it tasted weird when it got her mouth but she knew what to do. She didn’t panic. Daddy wasn’t afraid so she wouldn’t be either. When they broke the surface they came up laughing and she almost didn’t remember to be sad about staying.

- Everyday they swam together in the ocean, even when it was cold or rainy. Even when the breaks got high. They swam and it was the best time of her life.

- When Aubrey turned 6 her father was deployed. She came home and flung her books on her bed, shrugging out of her clothes, already intent on getting into her suit for her swim. When she’d come into the kitchen looking for her father without realizing he’d left while she was at school she found only a sandwich and a glass of milk waiting for her. Her mother explained with the same polite tone she used with the church ladies. The Sickness exploded out of nowhere, this time splashing over her disapproving mother’s patent leather pumps.

- When she was 7 she started sitting at the beach to watch the surfers gliding and cutting through waves. She thought it was beautiful but Aubrey hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to swim alone let alone think about surfing. Mother wouldn’t join her because ‘God knows what’s in that filthy water. You take a shower the instant you’re home and clean up the sand you drag in young lady’. So she told herself she was saving it for when Daddy came home but she knew that wouldn’t be for a long time and resigned herself to watching and waiting.

- Once some of the older boys picked on her for always coming to the beach but never touching the water. They teased her and kicked sand at her, intentionally knocking down her sand castles whenever she tried to build them. Her eyes caught wide blue ones in a tangle of red curls, the only girl in the group. “Leave her alone Brody or I’ll tell mom!”

- “I can swim if I want to. Better than you can dicklick.” If her mother had heard her using that kind of language she’d wash her mouth out right there in the ocean. Brody turned to glare at her but Aubrey was focused on the dancing blue eyes and quirked grin of the other girl. “I can swim to the buoy and back.”

- “Liar. I bet you can’t.” It was nothing and it was everything. The challenge of his tone lit a fire in her heart and Aubrey flicked her gaze to his boogie board and raised a brow, arms crossed over her chest. She was going to win this bet and they were going to stop being mean to her.

- “If I do that board is mine.” He laughed at her and agreed and she knew it was because he didn’t think she really could. Aubrey kicked off in a run so fast that sand sprayed all over him, her strong legs pumping as she jumped lightly over the small waves until she leap right into the next break. Her mother forbade her to bring the board into the house but her new bestfriend helped her sneak it into her bedroom window. They spent every day they could together and somehow Chloe’s smiles and laughter made missing her dad a little bit easier.

- When they were 11 they taught themselves to surf because none of the boys wanted them hanging around. Aubrey didn’t mind, the boys were so dumb anyway. So the relieved Brody of his board early in the mornings and spent a few hours before school each day and all through the summer. Aubrey had socked away all the money she’d gotten for birthdays and good grades saving for a board of their very own. She had her eye on one in particular in the surf shop her mother never let her go into.

- When she was 12 she came home to find her father sitting in his usual chair, reading his paper as if he’d never left at all. He lowered his paper and looked at her for a long moment before offering an approving nod and a surprisingly quiet “Ready to swim?”

- She spent all day with him in the water, surprising him with her speed and strength, showing him all the fun things she could do with her boogie board. He even let her lead him through the shop, watching her take everything in with wide wondrous eyes. They swam every day for two weeks before he was deployed again.

- She’d expected to find him at home but instead found a surfboard with a big red bow leaning against the wall of the living room. It was the first time the neon pink and yellow didn’t make her smile. The Sickness covered the floor, the wall, and most of the fins on the board. Her mother shouted at her that her tantrums needed to stop and made her clean it all up.

- When they were 13 they met a new girl at the beach. She didn’t like the water or the sand or even the sun it seemed. But Chloe liked her so Aubrey did too. Somehow that made them all friends. They didn’t see Beca often but she was there for winter and spring break and then again for the summer. Chloe always seemed to smile brighter when Beca was around.

- When they were 14 Chloe admitted she liked Beca in that like like kind of way. Aubrey flung her arms around Chloe and squeezed. Beca liked Chloe too and she knew it. So she kept her words to herself and picked up her board, running into the water faster than her tears could fall. She couldn’t ever tell them and somewhere on her second duck dive she felt it rising in her chest. When she surfaced The Sickness bubbled up and floated around her board and she paddled away from it quickly.

- When she was 16 her father came home again but he wasn’t waiting for her to go swimming. He had good news. They were going home to Germany. Aubrey didn’t even have a second to breathe before The Sickness belched out. When she was empty she apologetically cleaned it up before hiding in her room. Chloe tapped at her window that night to tell her excitedly about her first kiss. Aubrey hadn’t anything left in her to expel so she smiled softly and squeezed her best friend’s hand, sharing all of Chloe’s excitement without sharing any of her own pain.

- The day they left Chloe clung to her with tears, promising to write every day and visit when she could. Beca had punched her in the arm with glassy eyes and a few sniffles but had given her a picture of Aubrey and Chloe arms around each other, boards stuck in the sand at their sides with the water full and wild behind them. It was perfect and she squeezed Beca in hug because they were friends too despite loving the same girl. Maybe because of it.

- When she was 22 she finally made it back to California. Back to Chloe and the ocean. She waited in front of the studio apartment she’d had to beg Brody to give her the address of. He wouldn’t until she promised him she’d go out on a date with him. She agreed because seeing Chloe again meant that much to her but she wasn’t interested in Brody that way. Or any man.

- They hugged and they laughed and caught up with each other’s lives and fell asleep together on the couch. At 4 am her Fitbit woke her and she smiled at the sleepy but eager look on Chloe’s face. They raced each other to get ready and grab the boards hanging on the wall. Aubrey’s heart clenched when she realized Chloe kept her board waxed and ready for her all this time. They surf all day and Aubrey has come home finally.

- When Chloe and Beca break up it hurts and she can’t explain why. After 3 months of Chloe crying herself to sleep she flies out to New York. She waits for hours before she can slip into the building behind someone else. Aubrey knocks on the apartment door waiting for Beca to open it. When she does they’re both stopped cold for a second, staring and blinking. “Aubrey??” It’s been years but Beca looks the same.

- Everything she planned to say dies when she looks at the boxes and luggage stacked in an apartment almost as small as Chloe’s. “You’re leaving.” It’s not a question and Beca steps back to let her in with a shrug. Beca can’t meet her eye but she sees the hurt deep down that comes with losing Chloe, a feeling she is all too familiar with. Aubrey hugs her then, letting Beca cry it all out. Before she leaves she takes out a well-worn picture from her inner pocket of her jacket and slips it into Beca’s camera bag without Beca knowing. She knows what she has to do when she gets home.

- Over the years she gets postcards to her P.O. Box from Ibiza, Aruba, Thailand, and Sri Lanka. All of them feature beautiful surf and all of them echo with sadness. Aubrey doesn’t send anything back because Beca is never in one place long enough to get them but she knows Beca’s heart is in California.

- When she’s 25 they open their shop and Aubrey immediately starts booking surf classes. She enjoys teaching the kids how to surf. Especially the boys because they’re always a little in awe of her and Chloe and she remembers when it wasn’t always that way. It doesn’t even surprise her when she looks at the online registrations and sees Beca’s name. She was wondering when Beca would come home. Aubrey approves the schedule and sends out an email. She can do this for Chloe. For Beca. For them both.

- The day Beca shows at the door to the shop she shoves a wetsuit against the smaller woman’s chest and purposely saddles her with a long board twice as tall as Beca and just as heavy. It amuses her to no end to see Beca struggle out to the sand with it and she takes quite a few pictures for blackmail at a later date.

- When Beca and Chloe finally get married she’s Chloe’s maid of honor as she always knew she would be. It’s heartbreaking in all the best ways. He best friends are happy together and she couldn’t be happier for them. She wasn’t even plagued with The Sickness when she relays her wedding toast. The wedding is on the beach, of course, and she spends half the time after the ceremony sitting on the jetty watching the waves splash up against the rocks.

- When Chloe urges her down for a dance she lets a smile slide into place and joins the group but a part of her echoes just a little hollowly. So she throws herself into dancing and laughing and somehow finds herself nose to nose with Beca’s strikingly beautiful best man. The second their eyes meet Aubrey feels the sand shift and slide under her feet and she’s caught adrift in a sea of laughing green eyes the same color as the ocean at dawn. They spend the night dancing and trading stories and Aubrey doesn’t even hear when Beca and Chloe leave the party.

- Stacie and Aubrey pack Beca and Chloe off to the airport with hugs and laughter the next morning and when it’s just the two of them it’s awkward and difficult for a second. They don’t know each other, they’ve only spoken when surrounded by others. And The Sickness starts to rear its ugly head but what comes out surprises Aubrey more than anything. “Wanna learn how to surf?”

- Stacie spends the entire two week honeymoon in the loft by the beach. They surf and they laugh. They sing and tease each other. Everything feels like home when Stacie is there. And every morning Aubrey wakes up startled and tries to remember a time when she didn’t love her.

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juniper-and-lamplight · 5 years

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Recent Reads -- May 12, 2019

It turns out that I start to feel itchy if I don’t do a round-up of my various one-off recs every few months or so? Though there are some new recs on this list too (helloooo, Lix Storm). As usual, it’s a multifandom mix--DGHDA, Harry Potter, The Hour, and just a bit of Sherlock and The History Boys. Recs under the cut, so you don’t have to scroll unless you want to :) Enjoy!

Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency I'm So Queer I Can't Even Think Straight (But To Be Fair, You're Not Helping) - @dont-offend-the-bees - 2.2k, T, Dirk/Todd "'His mind was buzzing, his heart pounding, his lips tingling, even now five, ten, however many minutes later. But if nothing else, he’d got past the phase of the whole holy shit Dirk just kissed me thing going round and round in his head, stuck in there like a bad song. But holy shit Dirk just kissed him.' In which Todd shows his hand, and Dirk takes a leap." So funny and charming that I’m almost mad about it? The Comic happened, we all lost our minds, and Bees was there with fic on the SAME DAY.

A Thousand Butterflies Can't Be Wrong, (But I Think I Might Be.) - electricteatime | @kieren-fucking-walker - 6.2k, G, Dirk/Todd "It’s a lot, he knows it’s a lot, and he almost wishes he’d stopped to think about his answer before just blurting his feelings all over the place. But then he supposes he’s always been a little like that, and it hardly makes sense to change that now. If Todd feels the same he already knows what he’s signing up for. If. For two small letters, it really is a big word." OF COURSE post-s2 Dirk thinks that Todd and Farah will be together and leave him, because historically, that's how things go for him...bless his heart and his inability to cope with Todd's eyebrows.

Leave What's Heavy Behind - electricteatime - 5k, G, Dirk/Todd "A semi-poetic semi-character study of one Todd Brotzman, the lies he tells himself, and the truths Dirk Gently knows." So beautifully, painfully REAL?!? I may never stop having feelings about this fic.

song for the heartsick (better days are near) - embraidery - WIP, T, Bart & Suzie Boreton "Suzie Boreton, rescued from death at the hands of the Mage's goons by the dirtiest woman she's ever seen in her life, faces a question: would she like to go on a road trip with her savior? No, Suzie thinks, but when she opens her mouth, Yes comes out. And so begins the weirdest road trip ever." This is such a fascinating premise, I can't wait to see where it goes.

To sleep, perchance to dream - @flightinflame - 2.4k, G, Mona & friends "Mona is sick, and loses control of her abilities. She tries to hide it, but it becomes too much to ignore." This is? So soft?! And also quirky, and playful, and just plain heartwarming.

the intricacies of triangulation - reptilianraven | @actualbird - WIP, T, Farah/Dirk/Todd "'Todd. Us. Us and Todd. We need a plan for this,' Farah says. Or the one where Dirk and Farah get together (they’re surprised about it as well) and try their best to get Todd to date the both of them in the most roundabout ways possible." In just one chapter this fic had me HOWLING with laughter.

or make a home - reptilianraven - 6.6k, T, Dirk/Todd "Or Todd’s adventures in dating Dirk Gently, the mundanities of which unsurprisingly turning out to not be very mundane at all (featuring, among other things: intergalactic wormholes, regular periods of lying down on the floor, and several annoying habits that concern toothpaste and toothbrushes.)" With a combination of absurd humor and honest emotion, this fic absolutely nails the joys (and annoyances) of loving/supporting/living with another person.

put that baby back where it came from, or so help me - reptilianraven - 7.6k, T, Dirk/Todd "A case drops a telekinetic baby into the agency’s care and Dirk feels...overwhelmed whenever he sees Todd competently, wonderfully, lovingly taking care of a child." Tropey and ridiculous, but in the BEST WAY. My favorite line in this fic is ALL of them.

Though Your Breath Racks Your Ribs and You Throb with Pain; There's a Juice on My Lips for Each Purple Stain - @sexycoinkidicks - 7.4k, E, Dirk/Todd "In which Dirk shows Todd where it hurts. Angsty emotional smut, based loosely on a scene from the play Kiss of the Spider Woman (VERY loosely- no prior knowledge needed!)" Claustrophobic sadness and Extreme Emotional Intensity, with a slight edge of hope.

An Interlude; or, Compulsory Heterosexuality Made Me Do It - @teacupsandcyanide & @gallantrejoinder, - 1.6k, G, Farah & Todd "Farah and Todd did, in fact, make out while on the run. They also both realised some very important things about themselves. But not the things you might expect." Todd and Farah are glorious disasters, and I love them <3 This fic made me giggle from start to finish.

The Situation - teacupsandcyanide - 8.5k, M, Dirk/Todd "Todd raises his eyebrows at him. 'You gotta admit. We would get into this … situation.' 'What, the situation where we flee from the weekly hired goons into a badly aging knock-off of the Ritz, get shut in an empty room with no escape, and find ourselves compelled to make loud, gratuitous sex noises in order to put the aforementioned lackeys off the scent?'" In which Dirk and Todd have wildly different interpretations of Dirk's "coming out," and the only thing preventing them from getting together was their inability to have an honest damn conversation. Sensual and full of Big Emotions, as is only fitting for these two.

The Butterfly Effect (Love Is Love Is Love Is Love) - teacupsandcyanide - 7.2k, T, Dirk/Todd "Dirk kisses his best friend on their balcony in front of the Pride Parade. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Things escalate wildly into identity issues, old hang-ups, anguished declarations of love, and inopportune sabotage of the situation by their tiny bastard cat." This fic left me an incoherent, keysmashing mess. I might have actually clutched at my own heart after reading it.

Harry Potter Midday, Midnight - @aryastark-valarmorghulis - 8.5k, T, Remus/Sirius "During the summer of 1976, between fifth and sixth year at Hogwarts (and after The Prank), Remus goes outside the Lupin's cottage and he finds a big, black dog in his garden..." The character voice in this fic is so authentically teenager-y; Remus is so deep in his own head. I also enjoyed all of the sensory details, which create such a vivid image of the Lupin home, and the feel of a summer's day (and night).

Aural Gratification - birdsofshore - 10.9k, E, Harry/Draco "Harry's not gay – he just likes listening to exciting stories about Aurors. It's not his fault that the narrator's voice is so smooth, so expressive... and really rather hot." I know I’m waaaaay late to the party on this one (as I often am with Drarry fics), but worth it. As a person who listens to audiobooks for both fun and profit, I could not resist it :)

Letting Go - LuminousGloom - 6.1k, E, Remus/Sirius, Remus/Kingsley, Remus/OMC "A number of lusty, intimate encounters. Although for Remus, it's really only ever been about one person. And it's never quite right, until it's right." I love that each of Remus’ encounters is not only distinct and sexy, but also that each highlights different facets of him: forthright, secretive, curious, ashamed, conflicted, joyful, soft, rough, broken, and (eventually) unbroken.

like tea and knitwear - @songofwizardry - 2.4k, G, Remus/Sirius "There are probably easier and faster ways of showing one's affection than learning how to knit so one can make the object of said affections a jumper. Fortunately, Sirius has never been fond of picking the easy route." As soft and warm as a hand-knit jumper, but with just enough snarky humor that it still feels Marauders-y.

Sky Full of Song - @writcraft, read by semperfiona - 2k, 13min, T, Harry/Draco "Draco turns up at Harry's birthday party unexpectedly and Harry takes a leap of faith." A wonderful blend of angst and humor and realistically messy emotions.

The History Boys Don't you know you're life itself? - Philipa_Moss - 5.5k, M, Scripps/Posner “Dakin thinks you’ll get bored of me,” Posner says, out of the blue, and Scripps says, automatic and habitual, “He doesn’t.” This fic feels so perfectly lived-in--all of the relationships (partnerships, friendships, whatever) are well-worn, complex, and shaped by choices in a way that rings true to life, and to the characters.

The Hour (Guess who watched all of The Hour this winter and was left wishing that there was another series entirely about Lix Storm?)

The Small Hours - deathorthetoypiano - 1k, T, Lix/Bel "Lix stayed at Freddie's funeral, despite her instincts - and old habits - telling her to leave. She stayed for Bel, because she might need rescuing or a shoulder to cry on, someone to make sure she was alright, or at least as alright as she could be, given the situation." A quiet, bittersweet coda.

My thought is not changeable - @lbmisscharlie - 1.5k, E, Lix/Bel "Freddie will return – sometime – he must – and Bel is never aimless when Freddie’s around, not like she is now, eyes intent on Lix’s mouth and one stockinged foot rubbing uncertainly against her calf and their smallest fingers just touching where their palms are braced on the floor." Sharp poignancy and tons of sensory--a perfect stolen moment.

Light gathered in you - lbmisscharlie - 1.4k, E, Lix/Bel "Bel looks at her, sidelong. Her lashes are long, mascaraed dark, and her mouth coral pink. “I did wonder,” she says. “If you were – a Sapphist.” She says the archaic word so delicately that Lix has to laugh, which makes Bel pink up and drop her gaze. “I’m – not fussy,” Lix says. She shifts her weight just so, her forearm brushing Bel’s elbow. Bel doesn’t look up, but takes a breath, lifts her glass to her mouth, and swallows her wine down." Everything about this--tone, dialogue, dynamics--feels spot-on.

The Most Marvellous Place to Get Lost - peninsulam - 8.5k, E, Lix/Bel "It is late spring in Tangier, and Bel feels as far from home as she has been in her life." Gorgeous, poignant, evocative. You know, just generally breathtaking.

Immoral Support - @thisbluespirit - 420 words, T, Lix/Bel "Bel winds up where she always does after a bad day; in the safest place she knows..." This is lovely, and manages to nail their dynamic in fewer than 500 words.

I'd like to explore you - rainbowsuomi - 604 words, unrated, Lix & Bel "Lix’s mind is already somewhere else when Bel tells her to think about it and exits the office, picturing herself in front of the camera, describing bars where girls had their hair cropped and styled with grease, smoking cigars and slipping their hands, elegant, long and white, under flowing, frilly skirts, caressing stockings and corrupting young ladies." A beautifully characterized slice of life (and Lix’s history).

Sherlock Roads, Not Shrouds - verdant_fire | @viridiandecisions - 3.4k, T, John/Sherlock "He's perfectly happy to live out the rest of his life in monastic devotion, feeding John and loving John and provoking John just enough to distract him from what Sherlock did to their kitchen table." Lovely and lyrical and heartfelt (without getting treacly).

Further fic recs | Fic bookmarks

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poorvioletdraws · 5 years

Text

Tom vs. The Underworld

Chapter 4: All Outta Angst

Once Star and her family destroyed all of the magic, the use of portals became obsolete which resulted in my only mode of transportation being by foot. Well, in my case, by flight. Thankfully, my powers and abilities were not bestowed onto me by magic; they were apart of me because I was a demon.

Before leaving them, Marco and Star suggested they should accompany me to ensure I made it home safely, but I insisted that going alone would be the best option for me. It gives me time to clear my mind and decompress from the events in the now-nonexistent-Realm of Magic. Plus, I knew that with the threat of Mina Loveberry now being over, Star and Marco could finally spend time together as a normal couple without me being a third wheel... I’m glad we were able to resolve everything and remain friends. It was for the best...

A great shift in the space-time continuum also occurred where both Earth and Mewni were merged together. I haven’t been to Earth much, but I can’t confirm or deny if this was an actual improvement or not. To think, all of this just from Star destroying the magic? Why would both dimensions come together in such a way?

As I jetted through the pink-blue sky, I viewed the new world below. The vast cornfields of Mewni were dissected by a freeway. The Hill of Flags was now sprouting from a cemetery and the Mewni River was running through a series of homes in a suburban neighborhood. Even the Forest of Probable Itchiness had found a new home seated within a hospital--its patients and staff not looking too excited over its new location. Monsters and creatures roamed freely with the Mewmans and humans, the latter being mystified and frightened by the new population.

“Whoa!” I exclaimed as a thunder of dragon-cycles blew passed me. I wonder if one of them was Hampton.

I’m not really sure of the full extent of the change or how far it reached; I didn’t even know if the physical passageway to the Underworld still existed. But I needed to find out. I needed to get back home. That’s where my destiny lies...

I finally made it to the caves of Musty Mountain and luckily, based on my first sight of it, not much has changed. I began to decrease the flame to my hands and feet in order to transition into my descent towards the largest opening of the mountainous region. I landed effortlessly before the cave and stood in its mouth. My nostrils were met with the repugnant burning stench of rot which gave the reputable mountain its name--something I could’ve went without smelling for the rest of my lifetime.

The light from the sun was no longer welcome from within so I had to use my fire to brighten the darkness. My body was engulfed by flame, making it possible to see the huge cavern surrounding me. There were stalagmites and stalactites creating large jagged teeth in the ceiling and ground of the cave while a small stream of what must’ve been magma drooled through its crevasses. It was much to treacherous to walk along so I levitated into the air and slowly investigated the area. If my memory serves correctly, I needed to follow the flowing molten deposits back to its source which, after entering through the gate of the Underworld, will open up to the first geographical landmark of my home, the Lava Lake Beach. But why was the stream of magma running so lightly? Usually its current was immense and ferocious. Instead I was observing a trickle as if from a pinched off garden hose.

It wasn’t long before I found my answer.

Where the great entrance into the Underworld once stood, now a multitude of large boulders and rocks sealed up it’s path.

“Oh no…” I gasped. The merging of the dimensions must’ve caused an imbalance so intense that it upset the cavern and caused the rocks to fall and cover the entrance.

“This can’t be possible. I can’t be stuck here. I need to get home!” I yelled in a panic.

I aimed my hands at the blockade and called forth what little strength I had left to blast at it with my fire. However, after being stuck in the Realm of Magic for so long as a victim to that weird dark unicorn, I was drained from using my more destructive abilities.

“What do I do? What do I do?!” I shouted as I ran to the barrier. I tried to remove the rocks with my bare hands but they would not budge. I began to pound on the wall with my fists and screamed, “Hey! Anyone over there?! Please, I need to get back through!”

But nobody answered.

I ruffled my hands through my hair in frustration and sat on the ground of the cave. This can’t be happening. There must be another way. I was becoming distraught by what felt like an impending depression as my mind teased the possibility of being stuck in Earth-ni.

What if I never see the Underworld again? What if I never see Lucitor Castle again? What if I never see my family again? What if I never see her again...

Her?

Despite my crisis, why was I thinking about her?

I reached into my jacket pocket and retrieved something from inside. I held it in both my hands and stared at it intently. It was the necklace we made together at that temple in Yomi Town.

“Raya…” I whispered her name. I wonder what she was doing right now. She was so kind to me. She included me. She would never leave me alone like… Like they did...

Tears began to well up in my eyes as my mind raced. I was alone. Again. Just like in the Realm of Magic...

All I remember after we went there was everyone deserting me. One by one--Star, Marco, and then Janna. They left me confined to that contraption after they saw… After they saw the real me? Each one of them were afraid and they left me to become tainted by that dark unicorn... And I call them my friends?

I pounded a fist into the ground. Why would they do something like that?

No, it wasn’t their fault… Star said your memories start to fade while you are in the Realm. So they just didn’t realize who I was anymore…

Who was I anyway? Do I even know? What was that thing I became? Was that my true form? If I unleashed all of the demonic souls inside of me and channelled my true power, is that what I will become?

I remember being overcome with a strange sensation; toward what exactly I don’t even know. It felt like pure hatred. But, why? I didn’t hate Star or Marco because we resolved everything. Was something left behind? Or have I always had this emotion lying dormant?

I thought heartbreak was bad, even though that carries its own form of sadness, but having that overwhelming feeling of being alone was much more worse. Being alone was unpredictable. What you feel--despair, revenge, hatred, anger, depression--is all blurred together and harbors an unbearable darkness in your heart. My souls yearned for it. They craved it. And whatever that dark unicorn was, it warped my mind and chose that form. That form was evil incarnate.

Was that my future?

No, that’s not me. Whatever that was in that Realm, it tried to mold me into what it wanted. It tried using me to hurt those I care about. It would have succeeded too, if it wasn’t for Marco. He came to save me regardless of the situation we were in. He is a mere human and yet he took on that dark being for me. He didn’t give up. He fought until he brought me back to my senses. He was a true friend and I can’t let him down.

I stood up to face the wall of stone opposing me and glared at my enemy with a new air of imminent triumph. I began feeling my power build up from deep down as all three of my eyes lit up simultaneously.

“I am Thomas Draconius Lucitor, Prince of the Underworld, and I… I’m getting through this wall!” I proclaimed in a warcry as I floated above the gravel.

I unleashed everything I had left, even a power I didn’t know was there. I was unsure of where it was coming from but it exploded from me like a wrathful vengeance. It was my claim to the Underworld, a declaration for my home. For too long I let this hurt bury and fester inside of me. Whatever it was, it was being released in this onslaught I had created. I didn’t know what the adverse reactions would be for allowing my body to be put through such a feat, but it had to be better than feeling this pain. I needed to get rid of it all. The wall of stone, the darkness, my doubt--all this angst, I wanted it gone!

I kept torquing out all the fire I had toward that barrier as bit by bit started to crumble. I didn’t care if I expended every last drop and would return to that form I once was back in the Realm of Magic. I’m not afraid of it anymore. That was something I know I can control as long as I have my convictions. I am in control of my situation, my life, and my destiny… This is place is not my home. The Underworld is my home!

And within that dire instant, I heard a familiar voice come from the other side of the wall.

“Tom?” It was my dad calling from the other side.

“Dad?” I uttered, still not ceasing my blazing torrent.

My dad began speaking to other voices on his side of the wall, but it was hard for me to hear. “It’s Tom--Hang on---son--quickly, we--everyone--keep going!”

With his muffled encouragement and my confidence to overcome, I dug even further as my powers went berserk. I was pushing myself well passed my limit. The cave began to tremble and I cried out,. “Aaaaaaaaaaagggghhhh!”

“One--more---everyone!” My Dad called.

And with a mighty crack, the entrance broke open with the blasting sound of cannonfire.

At that moment, every bit of my power was spent. I couldn’t hold my levitation any longer so began to fall to the ground lifelessly. My eyelids grew heavy as I let total exhaustion take over me. The last thing I remember was my Mom catching me in her gigantic hands and embracing me lovingly into one of her tear-filled sobs.

I awoke again, still drained, but in a familiar bedroom. I was now at my family’s lake house on Lava Lake Beach and lying in my bed. I could barely make out the shadows surrounding me as my eyes still needed to adjust. But from the maternal whimpering, I already knew who was there with me.

“Mom…?” I said weakly with a cough.

My Mom sat beside me as she stroked my hair back. She trilled with a croon.

“Your Mother’s right, son. You really gave us a scare.” I heard my Dad say worriedly, popping out from beside her.

“W-what happened?”

I suddenly heard screeching come from the head of my bed as my Great Grandfather Relicor perched himself there.

“Yea, something BIG must’ve happened.” My father translated from my grandfather’s squawks. “We felt an outrageous earthquake here but knew something else must’ve been afoot, since it wasn’t caused by your mother’s anger. None of the portals or communications to the outside were working and we remembered you were still on Earth. So we went to the passageway in the Musty Mountain to find out what may have happened but it was blocked.” My father clarified.

My Aunt Exasperalla piped up as she sipped her alcoholic beverage, “More importantly, and what your father fails to mention, is that it felt as if some form of magic lingered there and was stopping your return.”

“I was getting to that but thanks.” My Dad said snidely.

“Now I’m sure we can all agree that Master Tom’s safety is the most important thing here.” My life coach Brian advocated. Even he was here?

“Thank goodness.” Petey agreed. Even Petey was here?!

Marshmallow squeaked at the foot of my bed. Awww, even he was here. The fluffy pink bunny hopped over to my side of the bed so I could pet him.

My Dad placed a hand on my shoulder and gave me a reassuring smile. “I’m glad you’re okay, son. We all are.” His expression grew serious as he continued, “But please, don’t try something like that again. Tapping into your life energy can be deadly. We got lucky this time but who knows what could happen if you tried that again. Don’t think your old man doesn’t have your back. We worked diligently on our end with all our strength and power to clear the way for you. We are all here for you, remember that.”

I gazed around the room with a comforting smile for each one of my family and friends as I contemplated what my Dad had said. I know I haven’t been away long, but being home again felt like such a relief. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I never saw them again. Come to think of it, it is strange what my Aunt had said about the passageway. All magic was destroyed so how could anything be capable of trying to seal a pathway to the Underworld. And why?

Relicor began screeching again and flailing his arms about as if in annoyance.

My Dad nodded and said, “That’s true. I also wonder what could have happened to cause all of this. Even though the passageway is open again, the portals are still not working down here.”

I sat up in bed, although my Mother urged me not to in a warble. My vision and overall constitution was gradually stabilizing again so I was feeling up to what needed to be done. I needed to tell them all what had happened over the last few days--why the portals no longer worked, the destroying of magic, the merging of Earth and Mewni, and my breakup with Star… They needed to know. It is for the best of the Underworld and how we can proceed not only as a kingdom but also as a family. I just hope my Mom doesn’t get too upset and cause another one of her storms after hearing about my updated relationship status…

I was sitting at the couch in the living room of our lake house flipping through some magazines left out on the coffee table as Marshmallow explored his surroundings on the floor. It has been a day and even though I was feeling like my old self again, my parents still wanted me to take it easy. I could hear both of them in the kitchen discussing plans on preparing a team to dispatch and investigate the new world above once we travelled back to Lucitor Castle. Exasperalla, Relicor, and Brian were all outside on the deck grilling something for us all to eat.

I let out a sigh and tossed the magazine onto the table. Do I really need to stay inside all day? I’m not helpless. A lot of my exhaustion was practically gone. And there were some really killer swells coming in that I just wanted to get out there and surf.

I stared down at my clenched fists. My Dad did explain to me how dangerous using life energy can be. However, he also mentioned that the many souls I possess may have played a huge part in not only protecting me from certain death but also in my recovery. I wonder how he knows so much about that?

~Ding-Dong~

My thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. Who could that be?

“Here already? Styx & Stones must be on the ball today.” I heard my father say to my Mom. He called for Petey to answer the door.

Styx & Stones… Yea, that’s the name of that beach shop that Raya works for and… does deliveries!

I shot up from the couch and shouted frantically, “I’ll get it, I’ll get it!”

Petey stopped in midair from his descent off of the second floor loft. “Oh, y-you sure, Master Tom?” He asked surprised.

“Psshh, no biggie.” I quickly said as I ran over to the door.

But as I went to reach for the door knob, I hesitated. For some reason, I began to get this strange feeling in my chest that I just couldn’t explain. My heart was pounding and bringing on an anxious sensation throughout my entire body. Is it because I’m excited to see her and tell her about everything that happened? Or is it just that I want to see her again regardless?

I touched the necklace we made that was still hanging from my neck and I drew in a deep breath. “Okay, okay, okay. I got this…”

I gripped the door handle and swung open the door only to be met with Raya’s older sister, Rochelle.

“Hey-ya, Ray--Ochelle?” I stopped mid sentence once I realized it wasn’t who I was expecting to see. My heart sunk.

“Good afternoon, Prince Tom. How have you been?” Rochelle greeted me.

“Um… Fine. N-nice to see you again.” I mumbled.

Rochelle had our order stacked neatly to the side of the doorway and held out a clipboard and pen for me to sign. “I just need a signature and I’ll be on my way.” She said straight to the point.

“Oh, okay.” I scrawled my signature and looked at the invoice for a moment rather disappointed.

“That earthquake the other day was incredible, wasn’t it? But I hear not much was effected down here thankfully or my business would be in trouble.” The older female demon spoke but I wasn’t really paying attention. My mind was busy thinking about Raya and why she wasn’t here delivering our order like she usually does.

As I handed the clipboard back to Rochelle, I decided to ask her, “Hey, where’s Raya? Doesn’t she usually do the deliveries for you?”

“Yes, she did, Prince Tom. But she wanted some time off.”

“Why?” I asked but realized how nosy that sounded so I tried to reiterate my question. “Well, I mean, she can take time off, no harm in that. You see, it's just been awhile and--and.” I rubbed my arm and diverted my eyes to the ground.

Rochelle put her hands on her hips and smirked as if she knew where I was going with my jumbled sentences.

“I just wanted to see her again and catch up, is all.” I chuckled nervously.

Rochelle kept up her all-knowing demeanor but finally divulged what I wanted to know. “Okay, so once we got back from Yomi Town, Raya kept asking me about how a princess is supposed to behave and act. I told her about this etiquette school outside of Lava Shores if she really wanted to see for herself so she has been taking classes there.”

“Why would she do something like that?” I asked confused.

“Something about the next time she ever saw you that she didn’t want to be an embarrassing ‘commoner’.” Rochelle made sure to quote unquote the last part with her fingers.

I gasped, “W-what? Embarrassing common--” I then proceeded to frantically denounce such an accusation, “No way! Just so you know, I never got that impression from her or any of you. And I hope that’s not how I come off. She doesn’t need to do something like that. She’s great! All of you are!”

“Oh I know you aren’t like that, Prince Tom.” Rochelle waved her hand as if trying to fan an invisible flame. “But ever since Raya came out here the last time, she kind of hasn’t been herself. I mean, etiquette school? You’ve seen how the girl eats? And she is the last person I’d expect to follow through with something that didn’t include music or video games. Ha.”

Rochelle noticed I was starting to look saddened by what she said so she tried to clarify, “Hey, you know, it could be a good thing, this kind of change for her. She must’ve taken away a lot from the time the both of you spent together at Yomi Town.”

“Yea… But she shouldn’t be someone she’s not just to impress me…” I said discouraged. Isn’t that kind of what I did to impress Star though?

The older demon girl took a glimpse at her watch and was startled. “Oh! I better head out. I need to open the shop back up and don’t want to be gone too long.” She muttered as she started to walk away from the lake house .

I hung my head feeling rather defeated.

But all of a sudden, Rochelle turned back around to face me and suggested, “Hey, if you want, I can give you the address of that school. I’m sure she would love to see you again.” She smiled.

I perked up. “Really, you’d do that?”

“Of course, Prince Tom. Your family is also one of my best customers so I can’t let you down now.” She winked and gave me a thumbs up.

“Thank you! You’re the best!” I praised her.

Once she scribbled down the address on a torn out piece of paper from the invoice, she said goodbye and hurried on her way. I also waved goodbye and thanked her again while shutting the door.

But to my surprise, I turned around to face my entire family now staring at me intrigued, obviously having observed some (all) of my conversation at the door.

I began to sweat as I asked nervously, “Uh, what are you all doing?”

My Dad smirked as he said in a rather sly tone, “So, what’s this all about, son?”

As if on cue with his words, everyone in the room began to beam in anticipation of what I would say next. I guess there is something else I need to tell them about too.

With everything considered, it feels good to be home.

#svtfoe #OC #starvstheforcesofevil #oc fanfiction #star vs the forces of evil #tom lucitor #The Underworld #TomVSTheUnderworldFanfic #TVTU

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lovealwaysla · 6 years

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I had a friend, her name was Sophie.

I had a friend, her name was Sophie. I had to bury my friend Sophie four years ago this week, far before her time and far before I was ready to say goodbye. I’m still not ready. Today I visited Sophie and had two furry friends show up at her graveside. Thank you for that sign.

It has taken me four years to approach this massive loss, to do what comes naturally to me, to write and express myself and if we’re being honest, I’m not sure that any words will do justice to how I feel, but here it goes.

I’ll start from the beginning, where everything was new and we didn’t know of this sort of pain. Story goes, Sophie and I met in our strollers, as most great friendships of the early 90’s begin, as our mothers took us out for our respective walks. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring us together to meet that day. As the years passed, there really hasn’t been a memory that I can recall that doesn’t include Sophie in some form. She was unlike anybody I had ever met, and to be quite honest, that stills rings true.

We were almost always together. It just felt better that way. Sophie was the sort of friend that fell instantly into a place within your life you didn’t even realize had been open all along, waiting for her. I remember once, we were playing in her playroom and she asked me if I wanted to play barber, coyly with a pair of grown up scissors in her hand. Seeing as we were tiny then and I thought she was the coolest, I thought, why not? Have at it.

Well, one botched haircut and frantic phone call later, barber was a game we were forced to retire, but I will always cherish that time when my cool friend Sophie gave me my first grown up haircut, beaming with pride.

Over the years, we shared classrooms, secrets without judgement, played on all the same sports teams, and learned to tap into our individual passions all the while including each other. Hell, when we were around 9 I’d say, we even shared the chicken pox. We were quarantined together, two itchy, cabin fevered, pox-covered giggle monsters, hell bent on having a good time no matter how uncomfortable. To this day, I have the fondest memories of the itchiest time of my life, because Sophie was by my side. Somewhere along the way, we became family. Sophie became my third sister, effortlessly.

Sophie was brilliant. She was the sort of smart that could intimidate even adults, ignite comparison amongst peers, and produce immense pride from those that bore witness to it. Sophie was brilliant, but she was humble and always the first to lend her brain and time to help others. I remember growing up next to her was hard at times, the comparison that came with being close to someone who excelled in so many different areas, was intimidating. But Sophie never let me feel that insecurity or intimidation for long. She’d flash me that smile, the sort that warms your whole body for just a minute, and crack a joke, letting me know she was human and that there was no pressure here, just respect for our own individual paces.

Sophie did it all; played every sport, was valedictorian of her senior class, jammed an blue electric guitar and even had an albino snake named Elvis. But what I loved the most about this special person of mine was the way she stood beside me no matter the circumstance. I didn’t have the best reputation as a young adult, but Sophie stood up for me and stood right beside me. She never stopped inviting me, including me, and never, not once, made me feel like I was alone in this world.

I will always love you for that.

As we got older, priorities changed as did our addresses and time just got the best of us; we grew apart. We’d speak every year on our birthdays, on her mother’s birthday, and sporadically here and there. We’d reminisce about our Sunday mornings eating matzoh brie and drinking iced coffee at way too young an age, reading Archie comics and enjoying the warmth of the playroom as the sun peaked in through the window behind the couch.

It kills me that I didn’t know the level to which my friend, my sister was suffering. If we are being honest, I’m not sure I would have completely understood what she was going through if she had fully expressed it back then. I wasn’t as self-aware as I am now. I was more about moving forward and not looking back to take care of the past or present hurts. But I understand now. I hear you now Sophie. Over the past 1.5 years, I have suffered from gut-wrenching, crippling anxiety and deep depression; the sort of sadness that makes you wonder sometimes what it would be like if you weren’t around anymore. The kind of anxiety that makes you feel like a burden to those around you so you’d rather not share at all.

I guess the only way to understand your own grief and someone else’s actions is to join them as best you can. It has been four years since I lost one of the greatest parts of my life, since I lost a person that helped shaped who I am today. I am angry that Sophie isn’t here anymore, at times, I feel rage and confusion in regards to her choosing to leave, I think partially because no matter what I feel, it won’t will her back to me. When someone passes young, it is unfathomable, it’s confusing, it’s god damn heartbreaking. I miss my friend, I miss driving in her car windows down, blasting Keith Urban and laughing at nothing in particular. I miss all of the things I won’t get to experience with her and I am sad for all of the portions of her life she won’t get to experience. I guess I’ll just have to bring her along for my milestones, my quiet Tuesday afternoons, and keep her alive in the new experiences and familiar ones too. So Soph, until we’re together again, I’ll keep celebrating the gift that was you. Rest peacefully my beautiful, courageous, and beloved friend.

Mental health is crucial, it is sacred, and, it is not respected as much as it should be. It is real, each issue is real. It is CRUCIAL that the narrative be changed and the conversation started. If you have someone within your life that is struggling, put yourself in a position to educate your mind and to learn the right questions to ask. Things to remember: Everyone is fighting a battle. It is important to ask the right questions and value the struggle and journey of the ones we love and ourselves.

If you are struggling: You are strong. Express your feelings no matter how small. Trust your voice. It is OKAY to not be okay. What is okay anyhow? Everything is relative. Take your time, cherish your peace, hold on to what makes you feel good, what makes you feel alive. Most importantly, this is not happening TO you, but for you. This thing called life, it’s brutal, it’s beautiful, it’s darkness can overwhelm you but it’s light can you bring you tears. Never underestimate the power of a listening ear or letting someone know they are not alone. Trust in the process and in your direction. Don’t be afraid to be vulnerable or ask for help. REMEMBER: you. are. not. alone. & you. are. so. goddamn. worth. it. ✨💪🏻💛

If you or someone you know needs help, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255

#me #mywriting #tbt #depression #anxiety #mentalhealth #love #family #sisters #women #strength #inspiration #suicide #sadness #sad #help #health #mentalillness #memories #healthy #mindfulness

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thegurlbehindthesmile · 4 years

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Ticks

Isnt it interesting the ticks you develop while trying to cope with anxiety- even being just uncomfortable-full of tension.

(*Dressed in Black*-Sia)

When i’m overwhelmed with tension...anger, ill roll my neck over and over to try and crack is. rubbing it with my hands again and again. Instantly its a tension headache rushing blood to my head- a gold ball of a knot forming as whatever fuse i have ignites.

If i’m uncomfortable ill sometimes get hives, on my chest, collar bone, arms. My ears will get itchy and red. my thighs will become uncontrollable itchy under my jeans, like an itch you just cant seem to make go away.

If i’m upset i tend to roll and rub my hands, ill rub my shoulder in a certain spot- my hair becomes uncomfortable, my clothes become uncomfortable- everything gets hot.

When i was younger i don’t remember when it started...

i don’t remember where i learned it.

Now as an adult i can finally try and look back and do this replay- as i try and watch and figure it all out.

*Chandelier (Piano Version)* -Sia

When you Google Self Harm a bunch of sites come up about differing from cutting to suicide. As you dip into all the words things like “learning to deal with deep distress and emotional pain” Apparently cutting has some chemical way of helping one cope with the feelings one can express?-feel?-understand? totally get that- i mean now of course. At the time all you get is a bunch of people and doctors questionably starring and asking why would you want to kill yourself.

..”I’m not.”

BUT alas- i imagine unless you’ve been through it you don’t really understand it. I guess i was going through some deep shit and had no understanding of how to actually process those feelings and harming myself was; a relief. SOmetimes it felt as if there was this scratch under my skin that i just couldnt itch. When the world flooded in and the noise got to much to bare; just a tiny scratch- and i was able to breathe- i was able to finally cry- i was able to feel. i always felt numb. (emotional bandwidth at maX capacity!) i could neither take in more feelings or even function through the ones i was having. I feel like i was a zombie. recklessly behaving in all sorts of ways- searching for ways to “feel” - not even fee better just- feel.

i was young.. in love.. heart broken- hurt- happy. it was a wild ride. i would rather not walk down high school memory lane at this moment. lets just say i imagine i was like any other typical teenager, i just couldn't get a hold of my shit-at all. *shrug emoji*

At the time it feels like the world is melting and heavy, but after it feels like a blur- like a black out. All prior chemicals have now left like a flood out of the brain and your left questioning a moment- “did that just happen?” I swore sometimes i didnt even remember doing it- just remember see the small scratches with such curiosity.

I dont remember stopping. I dont remember the problems going away or feelings disappearing. Just filed into the library of my mind to pick up again if id like to revisit hell. There was no ground breaking “end” ceremony where i pledged to never harm again.

Time just seemed to go by. I was all a sudden- never really alone that much (as before i was) I soon began a relationship that started young and catapulted me into the marriage i’m in today. For most of the first 7 or so years we spent a large majority of our time together ( quite literally) we worked together, lived together, and spent all of our free time-together. somewhere in that 7 years i became some else- none of that was on my mind at all.

*Breathe Me* - Sia

It’s very confusing (as a person) because i am generally SUPER optimistic. I literally cant seem to let many things get me down. In most reality scenarios i am the clear headed player who can come up with some happy arrangement and continue through the stress or dilemma with a huge smile.

Today i continue to be this person but any quiet alone moments usually bring on some sort of tear fest. This flood of overwhelming feels as if i had been holding it all in from some cry before. Its gasping- and tears- and dry eyes and throat. Gut wrenching hurt crying. pure sadness. i can feel it- the sadness- it literally hurts.

This was the moment i realized i was “one of those people” all a sudden i was my young self- the room got tight- the worlds noise got too loud and the darkness whispered its magic “relief”. deep breathes is an understand. counting. breathing...breathing...trying to breathe. loud music is an understatement. my headphones vibrating against my head to a melody that hopefully numbs out the whispers. and then it would stop. eventually enough music and the monster stops.

exhaustion- hunger - thirst.

if im lucky the word will let me sleep a little. my brain finally quiet. no thoughts. just sleep.

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annielowes · 5 years

Text

Radiotherapy For Breast Cancer

Radiotherapy

Radiotherapy absolutely did me in and I hadn’t seen it coming. In hindsight I think my overwhelming relief at the unexpected news that I would not be having Chemotherapy meant that for a while I adopted a kind of frenzied cheer for the treatments that I did need.

I was given 17 sessions of Radiotherapy over my whole breast, and some stronger boosters for the area where the lump was. The treatment blasts high doses of radiation through a machine, targeting and killing cancer cells. The positives are that it’s highly effective, you feel nothing while it’s happening, each session lasts only 15 minutes, and in my case at least the staff could not have been kinder.

I found that sitting with all the old boys in the waiting room was emotionally draining. It’s a daily treatment, so you’re likely to see the same faces. I was always the youngest there by at least 20 years, and I was almost always the only woman. Those that know me well know I am a big softie for old men. I don’t like, for example, seeing them eating alone in the window of McDonald’s. Niche I know, but I have seen this on numerous occasions and it’s ruined my day. It’s just that old people should be chilling safely in a conservatory or tucked up in a favourite chair, or at the Garden Centre. And never without lots of company.

The waiting room was always full, just me and then all the solitary men with walking sticks and loafers and massive hands and no hair. A lot of them were having Radiotherapy for prostate cancer and were required to drink lots of water beforehand, so they kept politely shuffling to the water cooler and making very sweet but awkward conversation that only old men seem to have about the weather, and what’s in the newspaper. I kept thinking that they might not have families and friends as supportive as mine and that perhaps they were going home to nobody, and I always left feeling really sad, really deflated. Thinking about my own dad and my granddads, and other people’s dads and granddads and just about how unfair life is.

The build-up of radiotherapy made my skin red raw, tender AND itchy, my nipple basically disappeared, and I became very physically sick which led to a trip to A&E with my sister in the middle of the night, anti-sickness meds and a night on a drip. I also experienced extreme fatigue. I have literally watched everything on Netflix.

Me at radiotherapy:

Next Steps

I am now on to my last treatment which is Hormone Therapy. This has been the most difficult part to face due to the long term side effects, so it’s something to write about when I feel more resilient.

I will quickly share a list of my negative emotional responses to having cancer. Some I expected, but others have taken me by surprise. I’m interested to see if there are any that others can particularly relate to? Undearneath these there is a list of small tricks that have helped me cope. Personal and definitely not for everybody, but I do feel cheerful scrolling through them.

NEGATIVE EFFECTS

Chronic paranoia that cancer is coming back to get me with a vengeance. Any normal ailment I experience such as a pain in the shoulder, tiredness, dry skin, sore throat, I now think that’s cancer.

Impostor Syndrome - illness related. Feeling like a fraud. I see others in the hospital in a worse state than me, and I feel guilty for being there and using resources. But when I’m with healthy people, I act healthy myself even though I’m not, and do all the normal social habits like drink and dance and stay up late. So I feel like an impostor here too and worry that people will think I’m not taking anything seriously.

Anxiety

Nostalgia

Anger

Worrying about how my family are coping

Feeling isolated

Trouble sleeping

Self-pity

Worrying about death

Loss of energy and motivation

Sadness

POSITIVE TRICKS

Podcasts. Dan Jones sleep stories, and Desert Island Discs

Boxing 🥊

CBD oil

Naps with my cat

Watching Love Island with Harriet and Bruce

Scary film nights

Selling clutter on Depop

Writing blogs

Making stupid tiny locket necklaces with funny TV characters inside

Louis Theroux documentaries

Spice Girls with my best friends (and my best friends in general)

Crazy Golf

Reflexology

Stroking my rabbits ears

Crystal Sound Baths

Go-Karting

Making to-do lists

My Spotify playlists

Cooking

Glastonbury Festival

Visiting the family and friends I have in Devon

Books

7/11 breathing

Cuddles

Lavender incense

Dog walking

Cheers xxx

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nothesc · 7 years

Text

A few more words after ending the Skam week

I know I know you’re going to say that I’m really annoying with these posts

But now that it’s ended, like really ended I have to thank you all again.

You’re going to think I’m dumb but after I posted the last update a few hours ago I literally started to cry for like 15 minutes because I was so overwhelmed with emotions.

I have spent every minute of this week writing and posting this fic and now that it’s finished I kind of feel empty

Like I feel so so sad that it’s over but I feel like it was the right time

And I wanted to thank you all again for all the support

Because, I know it may sound dramatic, but when my head ached because I had spent so many hours in front of the computer, and when my eyes were red and itchy and when my arms were sore of writing and I just wanted to lay down and give up I would look at the posts and see all the likes and the comments and the messages that you’ve sent to me and they gave me the strenght I needed to keep going.

I know you’re probably thinking that I’m a drama queen and that I’m overreacting but honestly this has meant a lot to me and I can’t thank you all enough for the way you’ve supported me this week. Like every morning I would wake up excited to see your reactions and every time I would post something I would get really anxious about whether you would like it or not and you’ve always, always been so awesome to me.

I honestly don’t deserve you all, you’re so amazing and nice and kind and lovely and I can’t believe all the love you’ve showed to me and my work

I’m sorry, I’m finishing this post now because I know you’re probably tired of listening to me already

But it wouldn’t feel right to end this week without telling you once how grateful I am

Now we have two rest and prepare ourselves for Monday and hope that we’ll get a good resolution to all of this mess (please Julie, give me a nice birthday present and don’t show me my girl Sana being hurt!!!)

And know that my ask and my chat are always opened to everyone that want to talk about the show or just talk.

So that’s it, let’s keep the faith and hope that everything will be fixed

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!♥

#skam #yousana

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sebstanimagines001 · 7 years

Text

Evanescent (Bucky Barnes X Reader)

Okay, so this is gonna have 40s!Bucky flashbacks so enjoyyy

GUYS I HAVE SO MANY THINGS I WANNA WRITE AND NOT ENOUGH TIME IN THE DAY AND IM EATING AN ITALIAN ICE RIGHT NOW AND CAN’T TYPE QUICKLY ECH

Bucky laid in his bed, staring at his ceiling. Hours on end, night after night, he did this. Sleep was not something that occurred regularly for the man. He sighed, rubbing his eyes which were itchy with sleep. But, he couldn’t give into sleep because as soon as he did, he saw her. Nobody else knew that there was something that kept him up at night besides the nightmares. That’s because she was a memory reserved just for him, and nobody else.

She was his whole life,it’s as simple as that. He met her when they were fourteen; she was new to their school. It was lunch and Bucky had been messing around with a couple kids in the hallway, late to the cafeteria. When he got there, he saw a scene he had grown all too accustomed to; his best friend Steve getting bullied by the bigger guys. He was about to step in, when an unfamiliar component of this scene began to play out.

There, in front of him, an angry looking girl marched up to the group messing with Steve. She planted her feet down firmly, defiance hidden in the sparkle in her eyes.

“Hey, you big losers! Why don’t you go pick on someone your own size,” She yelled, yanking back on one of their shoulders. They looked at her bewildered, but she only stepped closer.

“I swear, if I see any of you lay a finger on this guy again the last thing you’ll see will be my fist in your face!” She threatened, holding up her fist for effect. They nodded, and slowly backed away from her. After, I saw her turn to Steve and help him up, before politely shaking his hand.

From that moment on, she had become an irreplaceable part of our little group. Not only did she stand up for Steve, but she taught him how to stand up for himself. She also had a sense of humor to match Bucky’s, always being able to banter back and forth with the boy without missing a beat.

She was so different from anyone else Bucky had ever met, and he couldn’t help himself from falling helplessly in love with her. In fact, she had that effect on most of the boys and men around her.

Bucky smiled at the thought of her, but he could feel the tears gathering in his eyes. It physically pained him to think about her, the overwhelming feeling of emptiness, of missing her, followed even after the happiest of memories- scratch that, especially after the happiest of memories.

It was a normal Friday night for Steve, Bucky, and (y/n). Every single Friday without fail, the trio would go to (Y/n)’s house for a sleepover. Except, instead of sleeping, they often talked through the night, straight into the morning light. On this particular night, the three were sprawled out across (Y/n)’s room. Bucky was lounging in the girl’s comfy chair, Steve was lying on his back on the floor, and (y/n) was lying on her stomach on her bed.

“You know guys, I think about how different our lives would be if we never met each other a lot,” Steve admitted, looking at his two best friends. (Y/n) looked over at him thoughtfully.

“Well, I’d probably have no friends,” she said finally.

“I’d probably be a bad kid, running with the wrong crowd,” Bucky admits, a sad sort of look passing through his features.

“I’d probably be dead,” Steve laughed, though you could hear the underlying fear in his voice.

“Well, then I guess it’s good we all got each other, then,” Bucky smiled cheekily, (y/n) and Steve nodding along.

---

It was school picture day, and everyone was dressed their best in hopes of a good picture. That included (y/n), who was wearing her favorite red dress, accompanied by her hair flowing like a halo around her head. When Bucky picked her up to walk to school, she took his breath away. She looked so perfect, he knew right then and there that he wanted her to be his.

“Morning, Barnes,” she grinned, meeting him on the sidewalk. He looped his arms with hers, grinning widely down at her.

“Well you look simply breathtaking, doll,” he greeted, an underlying tone of awe masked in his voice. She looked up to meet his eyes, the sparkle in hers mesmerizing.

“You look rather dashing yourself, James,”she replied, grinning like an idiot at one of her best friends. She looked so flawless to him in that moment, Bucky decided to just screw it and throw everything out the window.

“H-hey, (y/n)?” he started off, cursing his voice for sounding so timid and nervous She looked at him, one eyebrow quirked, a small, amused smile on her lips.

“Um, do you, I-I mean, would you like to maybe go on a date with me?” he flickered his eyes to the ground, preparing for rejection.

“Of course I would, James! Pick me up at seven,” she grinned, leaning her head on the taller boy’s shoulder.

He hadn’t realized it, but he was crying. Salty, cold, tears rolled down his face, and he didn’t even bother to wipe them away. He was smiling at the fond memory, though an excruciating ache had taken hold of his heart. He tried to stop- to stop thinking about her, to let her go, but he couldn’t.

Bucky watched his girlfriend run ahead of him, to the school doors. She turned around, excitement and innocence glimmering in her eyes.

“Oh, Buck, look! It’s raining!” she shouted gleefully. He chuckled, leaning against the wall and watching as she ran out, spinning around in the raindrops. She stopped momentarily, looking over at him, before beckoning him to join her. He shook his head, rolling his eyes, before running out to her.

“Dance with me, Bucky!” she smiled, and they started slow dancing in the rain, talking and laughing about nothing.

“You look beautiful, doll,” Bucky smiled; a genuine smile, not his signature smirk, making his heart ache as he watched her cheeks dust red.

“Kiss me, you dork,” she giggled, before reaching up on her tiptoes. His lips met hers, and he could taste her signature vanilla chapstick. He smiled into the kiss, pulling her as close as humanly possible. He thought only for a moment about how this moment was so absolutely cliche, but then decided he didn’t care at all.

“James, do you ever think of our future?” she asked one day as they laid side by side on his bed. He turned to look at her, though she was still looked at the ceiling. He took a moment to admire her long, dark eyelashes, cute nose, and perfect lips.

“’Course I do, doll,”he answered truthfully. On more than one occasion he thought about how he hoped to marry her one day, and even past that.

“And what do you think about, exactly?” she asked, turning to cuddle her head into his side.

“Well, I think about how I want to marry you one day. Maybe have a couple ‘a cute kids, grow old and bitter together,” he told her, both of them chuckling at the last part.

“I’d like that to,” she said, smiling. He leaned down, connecting his lips with hers.

By now, he couldn’t stop the tears from coming down his face. Thinking about someone like her could only result in a slew of emotions. He loved her-no, loves her- with every single cell in his body. He fell hard and fast for her, and he still was under her trance, even though he knew he would never see her again.

That was the worst part. He would never see her sparkling eyes, bright smile, and sassy attitude ever again. It physically hurt him that he wasn’t lying in bed with her at his side, cuddling her, protecting her.

The thunder clapped yet again, making her whimper and burrow deeper into his side.

“Shh, doll, everything’s okay. I’ve got you, I’ll protect you,” he murmured into her hair, wrapping his arms tightly around her torso. She looked up at him, and her tear stained face and fear-filled eyes broke his heart. There weren’t many things that she was afraid of, and thunderstorms happened to be one of them.

“I don’t know what i’d do without you, Buck,” she mumbled, closing her eyes.

He remembered that night very clearly still. That night, when he promised to protect her. He remembered that, maybe, because he broke that promise.

She stared in shock at him, tears welling in her eyes and his. He gulped down the lump in his throat. He’d practiced telling her so many times over the last day, and he never expected it to be so hard.

“Y-you’re shipping out in two days?” she asked, her lip quivering. The tears in her eyes finally spilled over as he nodded solemnly. She came forward and buried her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms protectively around her, resting his chin on top of her head.

“I’m gonna miss you like crazy, doll, but don’t worry, i’ll be back. And when I get back, i’m gonna marry you. And we’re going to get our own little house in Brooklyn, and we’re gonna live there until we’re old and bitter,” he promised, which only made her cry harder.

“I love you, James, so so much, much more than you even know,” she said to him, wiping furiously at her eyes.

“And I love you, way more than I could ever tell you,” he replied, kissing her with enough passion to last until he got back.

He never saw her again. Not because of his experimentation, not because he couldn’t make it back, but because when he did get back, the only thing he could visit was a grave.

“Where’s (y/n)?” Bucky asked as he got settled back in at home. (y/n)’s sister, Luisa, frowned, her eyes saddening. His grin faltered, and he repeated his question.

“I-i’m sorry, James, truly I am. Shortly after you left, she felt useless. she wanted to do her part in the war, so she took up a job at the bomb factory. T-there was a mishap, an explosion, and s-she didn’t m-make it out alive,” Luisa sobbed, covering her face with her hands.

“You can’t be serious! This has to be a joke. Where is she, really?” he asked, not being able to believe it. But Luisa just shook her head, tears leaking from her eyes. He fell to the floor, sobs racking his body. That was it, there was nothing he wanted to live for anymore. He was alone, nothing mattered anymore.

Many times he laid there in his bed, right into the early hours of the morning, thinking of what life would have been like if he never enlisted. How he would have married the love of his life, settled down in Brooklyn, and lived out a happy, fulfilling, and hopefully long life.

But he couldn’t that. Not without her.

Nothing could ever be good without her.

#bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan imagines #sebastian stan imagine #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel #bucky barnes imagine

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mollywattsjohnson · 6 years

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goodbyes, hellos (05.26.15)

Goodbyes, Hellos

I leave my family and home and Canada, taking little mementos and pieces with me, a new T-shirt, blueberry muffins, my stuffed animal and a mug so that I can keep one foot there and one foot here, feel grounded and lost at the same time. I think of my grandma and how excited she is that I’m going. She handed me a red shawl as I said goodbye to her and I’ve placed it into my backpack to wrap around me on the plane. I hug my parents goodbye at 12 am in the Halifax airport. We are sad and tired and jittery. We join in one last big group hug together, and I feel a comfort I haven’t felt in a long time. Protected, safe, I feel this overwhelming want to stay nestled into them and forget the whole trip, go back to their hotel and sleep on the floor, eat pancakes in the morning and read books on their couch. But my phone buzzes telling me my gate has switched and we unfold, pack away the moment and say goodbye. I watch as they get smaller and smaller as I round the corner into the security checkpoint. I salute them as they fade from sight, something I’ve always wanted to do but never felt bold enough to. It feels silly and perfect.

The people at security are sweet and kind, they let my overpacked backpack go through and even help me repack my computer. The woman helping me tells the guy behind me that they all don’t reallyknow the rules about what knives can and cannot go on a plane and I think, oh, dear, what?! But they were nice and friendly and wished me a good flight, eh.

I slide up the escalator and am immediately stopped going through the gate by a very large, muscled border patrolman asking me if I know how much money I have to legally declare when entering the country. I stammer out a $10,000 and he nods I’m correct. I want to joke and ask if that’s how much I get for answering correctly but he looks like he could eat my head in one bite so I smile and thank him and scurry away to buy cheap Canadian chocolate. It’s midnight and I can’t stop moving and everything is happiness and sadness and my glasses keep falling off of my nose.

I buy a neck pillow because why not and I sleep all of one hour on the plane, trying to find a comfortable position but all I can do is think of landing in London and seeing my girl. I start to add and subtract arrival times and departure times and how long it takes to walk through customs and security and when and if I should grab a bite to eat before I see her. I get in three hours before she does but I could wait. I have protein bars and trail mix.

I decide I should eat and try to go back to sleep but then I’m thinking of when we should try to shower and if it’s worth spending 35 pounds on some fancy little lounge and then I remember that Frankfurt has showers for 6 euros and free towels and shampoo but what if she’s tired and feels gross after sitting on a plane for 10 hours? And on and on and on until she’s in my arms, it’s been nine hours since I left Halifax and I can finally relax. I crash and the jerky, nervous energy I’d been running on for a week dissipates and I shrivel up, I close up. We get into a tiny tension as we try to figure out where to sit and wait and I don’t talk much, I just become moody and slouch into my backpack. She thinks I’m mad about not getting to shower but I shake my head and say I’m exhausted but she pushes until I give in and the stress of the week comes out by the liter full, full of nerves and anger and kid-like complaints, frustration over grades, I’m embarrassed I even care. She listens, always, and within seconds I feel lighter like someone’s lifted a pack of bowling bags from around my shoulders. We order a beer and spend three hours munching on guacamole and chips (brought straight from California!), talking about our week at home, kissing each other’s shoulder blades.

I love this girl. Everything about her. I can’t believe I get to spend my time with her. And yes, I take for granted how full she makes my heart and my life and yeah, I’m just a kid and young and stupid but then there are those moments when time slows into a molasses drip, when I forget about everything and just am. When I look at her and know I want to live this entire life, go across the entire world with her, hand in hand, placing one foot in front of the other and never looking back. I’ll hold her up when she needs it and then from below, watch her soar, knowing she’ll do the same for me but always wondering if I’m worth it, if she really wants that. The battle goes on and on. I pull away, I dive too far in; I’m not one for balance. It’s the entire cake or none at all. But then there’s the spiced sweetness of her perfume, the veins on her hands and her smile. Both our feet on the ground, a whole life in front of us and a thermos full of coffee. We’re always changing, always wondering, always loving. I smile at her and squeeze her hand. We’re really doing this.

Once in Frankfurt, we find showers. Hidden off to the side, right next to a set of moving walkways, a sign for them appears. We hustle over and pay the 6 euros to use them. The smiling, red-haired woman behind the desk hands us two towels and two shampoos and takes us to our respective showers. She smiles away, nodding at our thank yous and we close our doors.

The shower feels like a recharge. It’s nice to shut a door and be alone, sealed off and silent. My dry, itchy skin soaks up the water like a sponge, sending energy into every pore and muscle. I could’ve traveled for another 24 hours after that. The water is on a ten second timer that fizzles out and leaves you punching the silver button fastened to the wall, trying to beat it to the clock. I can hear J’s shower running, her hand slamming into the wall to keep it going. I smile as we call out to one another, amazed at our hidden discovery, its delicate secrecy. We knew we done good.

I give up trying to beat the timer and take it as a sign for me to get out, to start moving onto the next thing. Wonderful a piece of respite as it was, I can’t help but to feel anxious about missing our plane, getting food, making sure we both have what we need. Always anticipating the next thing, I keep missing the one right in front of me.

We rush over to our gate, stopping to grab cappuccinos, a croissant, a hunk of cheese, jam and a mini baguette. We hop on a shuttle bus out to the plane and board. Our seats are split up and we split up our groceries (croissant and jam for J, bread and cheese for me) and wave to each other from across the plane. I lean my head against the cool window and jot down notes on my phone. Everyone is in a hurry to get off the ground.

I eat the best dinner I’ve ever had. I feel like a regular old Dharma bum. Tearing off pieces of bread and cheese and dipping them in jam washed down by the strongest coffee I’ve ever had, squeezed into this shoebox of a commuter plane, feeling full of life and love, buzzing with exhaustion and anticipation, floating in a haze of caffeine and sugar, happy, I could explode. I’ve never felt so lucky. My body is exhausted but my soul feels like it could run a marathon. The man next to me is frustrated with me for eating and it seems like just for breathing in general but I want to tear him off a piece of this mini baguette and share the greatness. He doesn’t get it. A beautiful young Italian couple gets on. The girl has wild long brown hair, free and smiling and giggling. I want us to all, let’s all, why don’t we just jump up and down and sing a song. Silly silly diatribe, communal hive. I want to fall asleep in the stars that keep popping up but I can’t miss any of this.

The plane is pulling out of the runway at Frankfurt and we’re heading to Florence! Ah! I want to kiss my girl, hug her and share this with her as we start this new chapter, this crazy adventure I still can’t believe someone up there is okay with us doing. I glance behind me but I can’t see her head or catch her eye. I contemplate squeezing the hand of the grumpy man seated next to me but he’s stretched out and gone to sleep so instead I send some breadcrumb thoughts over her way, knowing she’ll pick them up and follow. It’s cloudy leaving Germany. I want to come back to this country. I’ve loved every second of this journey but it will be great to settle in one place for a little bit and not have to sit in the scent of 5 hours of contained farts.

I grab another piece of bread and the chewing makes my ears pop. I wonder if there is a limit on how much you can travel before your body implodes from the changing air pressure. I worry that I’ve missed the memo on what this limit is and I’ve gone over. I panic for a second and then breathe, tossing away the thought like an old tissue.

The clouds we’re flying over look like brains. I imagine we’re inside God’s brain and the sunset is all of his thoughts, his electricity. It’s The Truman Show. I love that movie.

I know something big is going to happen this summer, something is going to change, maybe, hopefully, could be, but I don’t know what or when. Maybe I want it to, maybe I’m expecting it to, who knows. I try to catch myself, tell myself to stay in one thing so I take another sip of cappuccino and twiddle my toes in my shoes. They’re still there. S'long as I have Converse and some coffee, I can do just about anything. I look out the window, unsure of how long we’ve been on the plane, expecting to still be in Canada.

And then there it is.

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