#I guess I blame him for what happened with my mom it shouldn't have taken her being comatose for him to stop enabling her drinking
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I can't believe it's already August. I also can't believe how vastly different my life is now than it was last year around this time.
My fiance and dad were fighting. Bad fighting like to the point my dad physically attacked my fiance. Me and my fiance were trying our hardest to find a place as my dad wanted him out asap. I was trying to meditate things between them all while trying to help my mom with her alcoholism(that my dad was enabling.) All while also being terrified that if I left my mom would die.(spoiler alert she almost did)
But things got better! Me and my fiance have a beautiful home now, there's no more fighting, my mom is completely sober.(even though it took her almost dying for that to happen.)
There were so many times last year during this time that I thought I wasn't gonna make it through. I'm glad I didn't give up. Because I wouldn't have gotten to this new happier chapter of my life. Things can and do get better! Here's to hopefully many more happy chapters to come!
#personal#text#hope#I don't see my dad the same anymore though and I don't think I ever will#I guess I blame him for what happened with my mom it shouldn't have taken her being comatose for him to stop enabling her drinking#and he never should have put hands on my fiance even though they were both being stupid and arguing over the dumbest shit ever
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My Boyfriend's Sister - Layan x fem Faten reader (Part 2)
Part 1
warnings: family issues, drinking
word count: 1.565
Author's note: Feel free to check out my Masterlists and make requests. No reposting please! Reblogging, comments and requests are always appreciated. If you like the story/my writing, please don't be shy to say it via comments or asks! It takes you a few seconds and might make my day. It's the best appreciation you can show to a writer you like.
@iluv-444 : Tumblr kinda deleted ur request for the second chapter and I only remembered bits of it. I hope u like it anyway. Feel free to make more requests.
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Chapter 2
(f/n)'s PoV
Over the next weeks Layan and I spent as much time together as possible.
Luckily there were more projects connecting the classes. But we were not limited to time in class. I joined her and Rania in the breaks and Layan visited me at home from time to time telling our parents it was for school work.
It was annoying to hide our relationship, but it was worth it.
What was worrying me though was that Laith had not spoken a word with me since Layan had broken up with him and explained the situation.
He was usually at his bachelor pad. So it was not surprising that he had not visited since the confrontation with Layan.
But Laith and I had had a pretty good relationship and were usually talking over the phone at least twice a week. Now he was not calling back.
I was feeling guilty, but not guilty enough to break up with Layan. It would not change anything for the better anyway.
“Maybe you should just visit him”, Layan suggested when I told her how much the situation with my brother was bothering me.
“But what if it only makes everything worse? I mean … I'm the one to blame for this bad situation between us. Shouldn't I give him the time he needs and wait until he comes to me?”, I considered.
“It's not like we really know anything about proper sibling relationships”, Rania interjected. “But you have no idea how long he will take. Maybe he'll never make the first step, but is waiting for an apology.”
“Great point”, I noted with a sigh. “I guess I'll ask mom to drive me to his bachelor pad then.”
Mom was obviously surprised at my request.
“We got into an argument and he isn't answering my calls. I just want to apologize to him”, I explained honestly.
She nodded approvingly. “Then let's go”, she encouraged me and grabbed some of her paperwork.
The anxiety was creeping to the surface the longer we the ride took. Countless worst case scenarios were filling my mind, while I was trying to figure out what to say to him.
When we arrived I turned over to my mom who had already taken off her seat-belt to get out of the car. “Hey, mom. Do you mind waiting here? I think Laith and I can talk more openly when we're alone”, I suggested.
She sighed at my request. “Alright, but I want an update in twenty minutes”, she agreed and started skipping through the papers she had taken with her.
“Thanks, mom.”
Standing on my brothers porch, I was hesitating to ring. Would he even let me in? No way to find out if I did not try.
“(f/n). What are you doing here?”, Laith greeted me after I had gathered all my courage to ring.
“Can I come in, please? Mom is waiting in the car and I don't want her to listen in on us or something”, I considered.
He took a step aside, signaling me to get in.
After he had closed the door, I actually started the conversation: “You haven't answered any of my calls.”
“There's nothing to say really”, he brushed it off.
“It's because of Layan, isn't it?”, I reassured.
“What did you expect? That it doesn't matter? I really like her, (f/n)”, he exclaimed.
“I know. I'm sorry! I didn't mean for all of this to happen. It's not easy for me either”, I shot back.
“Oh, so you're the victim now? You know I would have never done anything like this to you. I wouldn't even have considered it”, he proposed.
“Yeah, because you're perfect”, I grumbled.
“What was that? Have you forgotten how much I supported you? No matter what”, he reminded me.
“How could I? You're making sure that I don't forget. Honestly it's kinda sad, you know? That I have to be grateful that you stopped mom from reading my diary. That I have to be grateful that you were nice to me, like a sibling is supposed to. That you protected me from your own friends who were bugging me every time they were over. Though that didn't stop you from inviting them. Have you ever considered what it's like? You left me behind without a second thought, just like dad. Mom only cares about my grades. Nobody in school wanted to be friends with me because I'm the principals daughter. They're all wary around me, stop talking whenever I'm near. Layan doesn't care. She loves me for who I am. Around her I don't have to hide and pretend for once. She makes me feel precious and like I'm good enough. I don't have to earn her love. And Rania, her best friend in case you don't know, treats me like one of them. You seriously want me to give it up? Layan made the decision to break up with you before I started dating her. So stop blaming me!”
“To you it's always black and white, isn't it? Of course I want you to be happy. You're my little sister and I love you. I never meant to leave you or anything. I just had to get out of that house and live my own life. You know how controlling mom is. And I know that you're calling me her golden boy. It's not fair that she's favoring me. But honestly that isn't something to be envious about. I just started creating my own life. And you ruined the best part of it. Maybe you didn't mean to, but you did by being the awesome person you are. So I can't face you right now. I'm sad … and angry and so much more. Just … give me more time”, he requested.
I nodded, not daring to take my eyes off the ground.
“Guess I'll go then. See you around”, I stated and left.
Layan's PoV
“Yeah, that's so cute. Oh, wait a second! (f/n) texted me to come outside? What?” I stared at my phone in disbelief.
“Do you think she's serious?”, Rania wondered on the other side of the line.
“I sure hope she's not, but I guess I'm gonna check it. Gonna call you back later”, I declared and hung up.
Secretly I walked over to the front door and silently opened it, making sure to take a key with me.
“Hey Layan”, my girlfriend greeted me with a big, goofy smile.
Fuck! I didn't know if I should be mad at her for showing up without a warning or if I should appreciate her presence as she was making me feel giddy.
“Hey (f/n). What are you doing here?”, I questioned.
Her smile immediately vanished. “Don't you wanna see me?”
“No, that's not it. I just … are you drunk?” I just recognized her slightly slurred voice, adding to her weird behavior.
“So what? Why does it matter? Didn't you say that I should do more things for myself?”, she shot back.
“That's not what I meant! This isn't like you. You aren't that irresponsible”, I pointed out.
“How do you know? It's not like you've known me for that long”, she remarked.
My heart ached at her words. “That doesn't mean I don't know you.”
“Well, I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to a club or something”, she enlightened me.
“(f/n), we can't. Hazem is gonna kill me if he finds out”, I considered.
“Fine, then I'll go on my own”, she decided.
I took a hold of her wrist. “Wait! Don't go!”
Suddenly I noticed the tears in her eyes. “(f/n), what's really going on?”
The first tear fell as she stayed silent.
“It's okay. You can tell me”, I assured her.
“I thought you liked sneaking out to go to parties”, she admitted. “And you told me that we couldn't hang out at your place and you couldn't come over tonight. I thought maybe you would sneak out to go to a place where nobody knows us. I just wanted to spend time with you. And I didn't have the courage to do it. So I secretly burrowed some of Laith's alcohol. I don't even know what I drank.”
I pulled her into my arms. “It's okay. I'm sorry. You can come over. I just didn't want you to because of my brothers … is that all though?”
Suddenly she began sobbing.
I held her until she had calmed down again.
“Mom scolded me for a B in my latest test. And Laith doesn't talk to me. I just feel like a total failure. You're literally the only good thing in my life right now and I can't fully enjoy being with you out of fear of being seen. I'm just so sick of feeling ashamed for being myself”, she confessed.
“Me too. But we shouldn't be. How about you stay here for the night to spend some time? So your mom won't find out about your drinking. We can't do anything because of my family, but they won't suspect anything if we sleep in the same bed.”
“Sounds great!”
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Tw mentions of suicide, self harm, eating disorders, csa, not detailed and all brief, but mentioned all the same. This ended up longer than anticipated and I'm sorry for that.
Nickname: oak
Lately I've been wondering if I...I don't expect too much out of life. Specifically Ive been trying to unravel my childhood and teen years lately. A lot of things I know weren't okay. As much as I tell myself I deserved it and blame myself sometimes, logically I know some stuff just was not right, but some other things Im confused about. I guess I just don't know what...what is the baseline parents and parental figures should meet if they're able to?
Sorry for rambling. Anyway, lately, I've been thinking that other things my parents might have handled my health poorly, especially my mental health. For the most part they took care of my physical health. At the very least I got taken to the doctor when sick, though I guess leading into the rest I should mention that when I got an infection in...in a sensitive place as a kid after being assaulted, my mom did take me to the doctor, but she never actually let him talk to or examine me. She said that since she was a nurse she knew what it was and what medicine I needed, and that it was just from soap so he could just skip to a prescription. Maybe she was trying to protect me, or she actually believed it, but sometimes I wonder whether or not I would have talked about what had happened if given the chance. Probably not so maybe she was right, and if I'd mentioned the things dad had done too that might have led to a messy divorce, so maybe she was just trying to keep the family together. I don't know. Anyway after that I started binge eating and periodically hurting myself around age five, had angry outbursts in class (one of which was bad enough police got involved) and periodically stopped participating at all in school, basically from kindergarten onward to the end of school. At one point in sixth grade I neglected even basic hygiene, and like everything else my parents either didn't notice or didn't say anything until the school sent me home, and even then they didn't say much or ask if I was okay. Looking back all of this seems like it was probably a cry for help, but I don't know. If it was, the closest thing I got to it was being taken to a dietician once when I started starving myself in fifth grade. I'm glad that happened, but looking back I wonder if...I guess if they should have taken that more seriously. I outright told my mom that I just wanted to be smaller so I wouldn't be made fun of and want to die anymore, and...maybe I'm wrong but sometimes I think that, and everything else, warranted some psychological help, instead of just being given a weight loss plan and losing a lot of weight really fast anyway. Then again, I did start at an unhealthy weight so maybe not?
I guess on the mental health front the last thing I'm wondering about is when a classmate found out I was suicidal in high school. He took my note to the counselor, and my dad was notified but just...never talked about it? He had a girlfriend at the time who had occasionally pushed me into doorframes and thrown things at me, but never gotten full on abusive, though she did rant about how I'd be a better person if dad had hit me more than twice in my life, and the day after the whole suicide note thing she went on about how I was just trying to manipulate them both and shouldn't be taken seriously. Sometimes I get really mad that no one ever even tried to get me help during that time, but maybe the girlfriend was right? I don't know. I don't think I was trying to manipulate anyone. I did also pass out for no apparent reason around that time and my dad didn't talk about that either, even though sometimes I think that should have been alarming too? I don't know.
I guess the last thing I had questions about happened when I was twelve. I met this guy who was I think nineteen, not sure exactly but he was definitely an adult. He said I was mature and cool though and started spending a lot of time with me. At first we just talked about books but eventually he brought up wanting to play games online with me, even after I told him I didn't have internet and that was against the library's rules for computer use. He'd still talk about it, and about how all the best girls he knew sent him nudes and had sexual conversations with him online and he thought it would be great if I did too. It felt weird, but never weird enough for me to stop talking to him, but the real odd thing was that my dad was there for some of these conversations. I'm not sure but sometimes I think he should have at least warned me to be careful with this guy. I don't know. I never actually did anything with him but I did take some nude pictures and videos that I thought I'd show him, only for him to abruptly leave town. For whatever reason I kept the videos and pictures though, and multiple times when I had left either my laptop or phone unattended, with only my dad home, I'd come back to find those were the most recently accessed files. I never specifically asked if he'd looked at them but I can't think of any other explanation, especially since it happened more than once, which would mean he didn't just find thst stuff while snooping but actively looked for it. That seems weird in hindsight, just like the fact that he'd watch me shower sometimes since our bathroom didn't have a door and he said we couldn't afford to get one, but I don't know maybe that was normal or at least not that bad?
For the longest time I either didn't think about any of this, or just shrugged it off as a result of us growing up poor. After all, they couldn't repair holes in the floors or walls or broken windows or remove mold, so we had to be poor. It was the only thing that made sense, but after being put in charge of finances after dad ended up in the hospital, I found out that had never been true. We weren't rich, sure, but it turned out they made a lot more money than I'd thought, definitely enough to fix the house up instead of constantly telling me I'd be taken away if anyone saw what it looked like (not true, since paramedics came in once and nothing happened after), and that my health insurance would have covered therapy.
Anyway, this whole long ramble ends with me wondering if I'm right to sometimes think my parents really dropped the ball sometimes, or if I'm entitled and expected too much from them. I don't know. I'm sorry, it seems stupid, but I don't know what is and isn't okay when it comes to family. If I did expect too much, then what is normal? If I am entitled, what do I do about that?
Hi Oak,
I'm sorry to hear about everything you went through.
A lot of what you described with your parents seems neglectful and reckless. Your needs should've been more of a priority. You did not deserve to suffer in the various ways that you did.
I just want to call your attention to how you said your dad's girlfriend was never "full-on abusive" and yet she pushed you into doorframes, threw things at you, and said you should've been hit more. That's still abusive. I guess I'm not entirely sure what you mean by full-on abusive. Abuse is abuse, you know?
I also want to clear the air by saying that his girlfriend is in the wrong, 100%. It's insensitive and dangerous to assume that a suicide threat is nothing serious. As someone who is QPR-certified (suicide prevention), every suicide threat should be taken in full seriousness. It's understandable to be mad that nobody helped you during that time. You didn't deserve to be treated that way.
It sounds like the 19 year old groomed you and solicited CSEM from you. I have to say that I'm not only disgusted by the actions of that 19 year old but also your father. What your dad did is not only a violation of your privacy but the fact he didn't seem concerned is concerning in itself. It's also very creepy and another violation of privacy for him to watch you shower. That's not normal at all, and especially if he knew there wasn't a door, he should've made sure not to look.
I think it's normal to not think much of our childhood traumas, especially until much later. I only just started uncovering and digesting my childhood trauma (12 and earlier) and I'm 22.
You didn't expect too much from your parents, in fact you expected the bare minimum and they couldn't even meet that. Please don't be sorry, none of this is stupid. You've endured a lot of different potentially traumatic things and I think it's important to acknowledge that.
It can be hard to gauge what is normal when it comes to your family. I'm also encountering that as I'm working through my earlier experiences. You don't really have another family of your own to compare these experiences to, so it can be hard to know what's okay and what isn't. But please know that it is not okay to violate your privacy in any way, whether that's being a peeping tom or going through your devices. It's not okay to ignore cries for help, including suicide threats. It's not okay to physically or emotionally abuse you. It's not okay to be medically neglected.
It's important for you to find healing in a way that works for you. If you aren't already in therapy, there are many therapies out there that could help you work through these experiences and how they may have shaped the way you view yourself and your life.
I hope I could help. Please let us know if you need anything.
-Bun
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💖Sweet Revenge💖 - Chapter 11
*Warning Adult Content*
Back in my tiny apartment, I let out a sigh of frustration and regret and bang my head against the door I just slammed shut at my back.
"Fucking Drama Queen," I berate myself under my breath.
"You couldn't hold it together for five fucking minutes? Shit."
Now I've got a raging hard-on and Blake thinks I'm some kind of mental case.
At least one of those things I can deal with.
In the bathroom, I turn on the shower and shed my clothes.
Beneath the hot spray, I stroke myself off with swift efficiency, gasping and leaning heavily on the wall as I come with an intensity I haven't felt in months.
My legs feel weak and I slide to the floor, letting the hot water beat against my back while I rest my head on my raised knees.
Great, now I'm acting like a mental case, too.
I shouldn't have let Blake kiss me, no matter how much I wanted him to.
He'd wanted it just as bad and clearly would have taken it further if I'd let him but it wasn't his reaction that alarmed me... it was mine.
It's true it'd been a while but I'm no virgin and it's not like I don't take care of my own needs and yet I almost came in my pants from that kiss alone.
Worse, now that I've tasted what Blake has to offer, I don't think I'll ever stop wanting more.
Just when I thought I'd finally left the past behind me, too.
I'd even stopped dreaming about it.
~♡~
Chad's fingers left dark bruises on my face where he'd grabbed me.
When I'd got home that night, my Dad looked away from his sports program long enough to notice.
"What the fuck happened to you?" he'd asked.
"Got in a fight," I'd said.
That answer seemed to please him.
Fighting was manly, so it had his approval.
I like to think if my Mom was still around she might have pressed for more, might even have scolded me or given me a lecture or something but she was in Europe somewhere with a wealthier, handsomer man than my father.
She'd been too young when she had me and domesticity hadn't agreed with her.
I didn't blame her, really.
My Grandma told me my dad used to be 'sweet as apple cider' when he was young and in love with my mom.
I guess time hadn't been kind to his body or his soul and his apple cider had turned to vinegar.
I made chicken and pasta that night.
The extent of my Dad's talent in the kitchen was the ability to operate the microwave, so the cooking fell to me.
My Dad appreciated that at least, though he always found a way to include a barb in his complements... tiny razors hidden in something sweet.
I served him his dinner where he sat in front of the TV. I'd have preferred to eat at the table, like a normal family but he didn't want to miss whatever was happening in whatever gladiatorial game he was watching.
So I sat at the other end of the couch and pretended I was interested too.
"Hmm, this is good," he said, mopping cream sauce up with a piece of chicken.
"This a recipe?" I shook my head.
"Not really. Just something I made up."
"Huh?" he grunted.
"You'll make someone a fine wife someday."
Out of someone else's mouth, maybe that would have been a funny, lighthearted joke... a little jab meant more as a compliment than anything else.
From him, it sounded ugly and mean-spirited and I knew he didn't mean it in a good way.
I stood and snatched his plate from his hands and some pasta fell in his lap.
"Fuckin' hell, boy. What the fuck are you doin'?" he yelled.
I took his plate and mine and dumped them... plates, forks and all... in the trash.
"What the fuck, are you wastin' good food for?"
He was on his feet now, face red with fury.
"You think I'm made'a money? I work hard for that shit."
I dashed up the stairs to my room and locked myself in.
From the living room below I heard him continue to rant and curse for a minute but he quickly ran out of steam.
"Now what the fuck 'm I s'posed to eat?" he grumbled and then he was quiet, probably having answered his own question with another beer and settled back in front of the TV.
I cried.... quietly, of course, so he wouldn't hear me... for a long time.
I cried for my broken heart and my broken family and my stupid little broken dream of making something worth loving... or of being something worth loving.
I guess I thought those were the same thing.
~♡~
'Sweet Revenge' is closed on Sundays.
Not because I'm religious but because even I need a day off and it's the quietest day of the week.
I'm roused by a loud rapping on the door and drag myself from bed with a groan.
It's not coming from downstairs, I realize.
It's coming from the door of my apartment.
It has an outside access at the top of a flight of wooden stairs around the back of the shop but most people don't realize it's a residence unless they know me or they've looked it up.
I rub the sleep from my face and run my hands through my hair.
I didn't sleep well and I'm hoping whoever's out there will give up and go away.
They don't and continue to knock with increasing insistence, until I'm not sure whether to be more worried for the door or their hand.
I decide to reward their impatience by not bothering to get dressed.
If it's the Jehovah's Witnesses, they're in for a treat. It's not, though.
It's Blake and his eyes go straight down while his brows go up.
At least I don't sleep nude but my briefs suddenly feel very small indeed.
"Holy shit," he says.
"Jesus Christ," I say at the same time and try to slam the door in his face but he's too fast and catches it.
"Wait, Aaron. I need to talk to you," he says.
"Please?"
I briefly consider which would be more painful... paying his hospital bill if I slam his fingers in the door or letting him in my apartment while I'm dressed in my underwear and listening to what he has to say.
"Fine," I let go of the door and step back.
"What?"
"I... I didn't like how things ended last night," he says.
Yeah, he's not alone there.
"And I... I know you don't want to hear this but... I really like you."
Actually, I don't hate hearing it.
He draws a deep breath and finally spits it out.
"And . . . I'm really worried about you."
Ah, fuck.
Time to set the record straight.
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I read a lot since my last update but let me just try to get my thoughts in order.
First of all there was that whole thing with Locke taking her to his house, that was fine I guess, but I got vibes like he was trying to show off that he could get her to his friends or something, and that “I like for things to happen, for stories to unfold. And if I can’t find a good enough story, I make one.” line REALLY creeped me out, is he trying to say he likes to start drama or is it something more sinister? Also side note that part with his moms dresses and him telling her she could take whatever she wanted from the room was creepy as HELL.
Then that thing with the mortal girl, it was so sad, and it made me realize that if a fairy other then Madoc had taken her she could have ended up like her, also not that I’m blaming Jude, but come on girl why do you think she was putting rocks in her pockets? 😐 I liked how Vivi handled the situation though, I’m liking her more and more, she seems like a chill character.
I don’t know if I should be happy that I guessed that Taryn was in love with Locke two posts ago, I think it’s okay for Taryn to love him but she saw what was happening between Locke and Jude, WHY THE HELL didn’t she say anything to Jude? I get that Locke didn't want her to tell her sister before the coronation but this seems like a situation that juuussstttt might be qualified to ignore that.
I just got to the part where Jude holds a dagger to Cardan's throat, when he said “Jude?” it was a bit soul crushing, not sure what he was expecting but I feel like he was just so sad in that moment, then when Jude saying “Surprised? You shouldn't be.” that was a real power move of a line. Sometimes when I read and I'm really engrossed in the story certain scenes are like movies in my head and this was one of those times, needless to say it was EPIC.
Just started the chapter right after that and Cardan said “But do you really believe I am going to let you parade me in front of the general, as though I am some lowly—”, I love love love how he cares more about people respecting him then he cares about actually surviving.
Omg his tail was just mentioned, he can't control it's movements? Like it just moves subconsciously? And how does he keep it in his shirt? Unless I'm misinterpreting “his infamous tail is showing under the white lawn of his shirt”. Idk how I feel about the tail, I'm gonna have to decide that later.
#the cruel prince#cruel prince#jude duarte#jude greenbriar#jude x cardan#prince cardan#cardan greenbriar#i love cardan#cardans tail#cardanandjude#taryn duarte#taryn x locke#popular books#fantasy#bookblr#book update#current read
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Alright it's time for more of my controversial opinions on the she Ra finally, as some might know I didn't like it too much. To clarify I thought it started out really well at first and I was really excited to see where it would go, but by like episode 5 or whatever I just knew. It was sort of anticlimatic if I'm honest, and I have a few honest criticisms. Now I'm not gonna go through all these now, I'm actually just gonna focus on what I considered to be the biggest problem of season 5 and honestly the whole show.
Before I get into it this is just my honest opinions and if I hated the show I wouldn't have kept up with all the season and been a fan. I love she Ra and I really wanted to love season 5 I just couldn't. That's not to say it was bad, there was a lot of good stuff.
Also, also I am going to be talking about Catra and adora and their relationship. I'm not an anti or anything it's just a few comments about the execution. This is about Catra as a whole not just this one ship.
Let's begin: Catra has always been a well liked but controversial character back in seasons 1 and 2 her actions were fine, while harsh she was at least understandable to an extent. Most people who liked her wanted to she her growth and redemption. Me on the other hand I've never been a fan personally but I didn't mind her too much early on. Later, however is where the problems come into play.
In order for season 5 to have worked Catra needed to be properly redeemed because she's done some awful crap. And to make my case I'll list off a few things she's done: actively attacked adora and her friends on multiple occasions, took enjoyment out of hurting others and seeing the horde take over, stabbed entrapta in the back literally, threatened scorpia, and opened the portal.
Now I know what you're thinking, yes we know this, so what she's better now in season 5 she's redeemed herself. Yes at the end of season 5 Catra is redeemed but the question is how? And why?
Catra and her redemption story has been compared to zuko and his story. Which I think is a little unfair because it's just not on the same level. Don't get me wrong compared to other redemption attempts it's definitely a win. I don't wanna compare these two it's not necessary people learn and grow in different ways.
I didn't like Catra's redemption because it felt too easy. It didn't hurt and because it wasn't painful it didn't feel earned. However people who talked about Catra and season 5 talked about it making them cry and honesty it only made me tear up one and it wasn't ever in a scene about Catra or adora, or even glimmer. It was when entrapta was talking to mermista and she realized that everyone was mad at her. So maybe my emotions are just shot, or something.
Despite not like season 5 all that much I did however like Catra this season. I've never liked Catra, I liked her momentarily in season 3 before she started making horrible decision, but other than that I didn't like her. So in season 5 Catra was well written. And it's because of character interaction.
Something spop has always done well is showing us how characters interact and what their dynamic is which makes scenes more interesting and how Catra talked with everyone was great it felt natural, almost too natural. I get that our heroes are supposed to be forgiving they're heroes but it's one thing to forgive and another thing to forget completely. There are only two times Catra really gets called out for her previous actions. The first is when frosta bless her heart, punches Catra right on the face and this scene is played off for laughs because Catra brushes off the punch and also frosta apologizes because she didn't realize Catra is on their side now. They all just too adora's word about Catra being good now. Then she's confronted again by perfuma who's just upset about how she treated scorpia. Which was bad we'll talk about that later but she's done so many other things to get mad over. Like anyone remember when mermista's home got taken over Catra pratically led that siege, mermista was heartbroken she lost her home.
So that's issue one how she integrates easily into being friends with everyone else.
Next is...
Oof, let's talk about Glimmer and Catra. Them being stuck together was interesting because their situation helped them both grow and tested their resolve which is great. Their relationship is really well written. We just have one small, tiny problem... Catra killed glimmers mom!!!
Are we just never gonna talk about that I mean the opening of the portal in season 3 and the death of Angella are two really big issue because they're the point of no return for Catra and Glimmer.
Catra actively opening the portal to spite adora and potentially destroy the planet turned Catra from a simple kid making mistakes because of her circumstances to someone who genuinely doesn't care about the suffering and potential death of others as long as she can prove a point. It made her a real threat and a potential villain.
Angellas death made glimmer queen and it also made her cold and willing to seek vengeance despite them being the good guys. She was willing to take matters into her own hands even if it meant going a little too far. Both of these characters changed in season 3 and those continued into season 4.
So if these events had such a great impact why aren't they brought up??? Simple because we need a happy ending and that can't happen if we're talking about dead parents.
Out of all the people that Catra apologised to shouldn't glimmer be first on that list. Doesn't she deserve at least that much.
My next point and the one I'm probably most bitter about is Catra and scorpia.
It's safe to say their relationship has always been a little weird. In the very beginning of seems very one sided with Scorpia hanging onto catra's every word. Then with time we see that Catra does actually care about scorpia she just doesn't like to show it. Which is fine until you guessed it season 3 where Catra's character really falls down to the point of no return.
So let's recap throughout season 3 while Catra and scorpia were together you could see the beginning of something and honesty it was pretty cute. Then the ending happened and Catra attacks entrapta and threatened to do the same to scorpia and suddenly everything was broken. All throughout season 4 we see nothing but hurtful words from Catra towards everyone but especially scorpia who's just being loyal. Finally scorpia gets tired and she basically puts Catra through one more test involving Emily before deciding to leave.
This relationship was the one I was really looking forward to seeing in season 5, but all we get is one small apology in the last episode and that's it.
Throughout this season they pratically had scorpia and Catra forget about each other completely.
When scorpia left the horde she did it because she felt she had to in order to both save entrapta and Emily. She wasn't fully okay with her decision until she met the other princesses and realized they're nothing like the horde. Still she never forgot about Catra because scorpia's whole thing is loyalty so how did she just get over her feelings for Catra especially when doesn't know where she is and hasn't heard anything about her. I know the situation was dangerous but still.
It was all pretty upsetting. Moving on...
In my final moments I wanna talk about catradora and also a little about shadoweaver.
Shadoweaver died and well... I expected that you really can't redeem her. It's not impossible but no one would ever accept it because people can't really change and nothing can ever make up for the mistakes she made in the past and the way she manipulated people. It's weird how I can't tell of I'm talking about shadoweaver or Catra anymore. They did a lot of the same things and yet... Catra is never really blamed for anything. Same with Hordak the fandom blames him for crap all the time but when Catra hurts people it's okay. Shadoweaver and Hordak are different cases they're older than her, well let's compare glimmer in season 4 grieving over her mother and making mistakes and everyone getting mad and expecting her to be held accountable, why is there such a double standard for Catra???
Anywho Catra and Adora's relationship is apparently the only thing everyone cared about will they be together??? After season 3 the chances were very small, but guess what they ended up together. Honestly when I say I get a little annoyed around episode 5 it's because they made it really obvious they're gonna end up together happily ever after style. Honestly I don't have the energy after this long post to criticize it. I just wish it was a little more tactful in the beginning and less blatantly obvious. But whatever!!!
#she ra#spop#she ra netflix#she ra catra#she ra bow#she ra glimmer#spop adora#spop catra#she ra frosta#spop glimmer#she ra shadow weaver#she ra s5#spop 5#spop 4#netflix she ra#spop scorpia#spop season 5#she ra pop#she ra review#she ra rant#noelle stevenson#spop entrapta#entrapta#adora#catra#catra redemption#long post#im tired#angella#queen angella
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Don't wanna lose
/Listen, this is my first ROTTMNT fan fiction. And I warn you that in the original I wrote it in Russian(because I am from Russia), so there may be a poor translation. Please don't scold me xd. And... My text typography is very different from how many others do it. So... I hope this is not a problem, and you will understand/
“Donnie had a nightmare, but to whom would he go for help, if not his brothers?”
The body hurts unbearably. As if all the bones were crushed into small pieces, as if they were well ground in a blender. I barely rise to my elbows and look around. Blood. A lot of blood. My brothers! They are also in the blood. Do not move. No signs of breathing. They have terrible wounds, and Mikey... Oh no, my poor little brother, he got the most. Looking at his broken shell is worse than the pain that I feel from broken bones now. I try to get up, but I can’t. My tech-bo is broken in half, and the shell sparkles from damaged parts. I hear menacing breath behind me. I turn my head. Shredder. He stands in front of me and looks into my eyes with a predatory gaze. At any second, he could attack me, but he was waiting for something. I hear someone is running. April! She is alive! She runs straight at the enemy with a bat in her hands. What are you doing again?! Run from here! Shredder grabs O`Neil with his claws and throws her to the side under a huge box hanging on the chain of the lift. The next second, the armor quickly chopped off the chains. The load fell on April. I heard a loud crunch of bones, and blood poured out from under the load. The shock froze on my face. And in a split second, Shredder, waving his claws, was in front of me.
— NO! — softshell woke up.
And the next thing he felt was already real pain from hitting the bed cover. Perhaps a broken solarium is not the best option for a place to sleep. Von Ryan rubbed his forehead. He began to breathe air through his teeth, squinting his eyes. Such a dream. But this is not surprising. After a three-day battle with Shredder, the destruction of Donnie’s entire tech and almost premature death, the turtle could not sleep well. All these thoughts of death from the claws of an obsessed armor scared him.
Donatello slowly walked down the stairs from the bed. 03:15 AM. Third time in a week. He rubbed his eyes, leaning against the table. Terribly wanted to sleep, but did not want to return to the nightmare. He needs someone who will help to distract from this. But who? Brothers are not an option. Father too... April. Yes, she also suffered, but she can calmly listen and help. The best friend after all.
Donnie took out his hoodie, left the room, looked around. No one, everyone is sleeping. He slowly but surely headed toward the exit to the surface. He climbed the rusty stairs and opened the hatch. It's raining. To match the mood. Softshell closed the hatch and climbed to the roof of the house. Jogging can also distract. He went straight to his friend, jumping from roof to roof and slapping his feet in the puddles. About ten minutes later he was at her window. It is closed: both the lock and the curtains. Donnie sighed sadly, with his hands in his pocket. Unexpectedly there was a screwdriver. How on time. The turtle held the tool to the lock and stopped. But will it not be a hack? ...Nah, Donnie has the right to do it. He continued to poke around the lock until it clicked, announcing the discovery. Von Ryan slowly opened the window and opened the curtains. But here's what surprised: April sat on her bed in headphones, reading a magazine, under a nightlight:
— Do you know that reading under a dim light is not safe for the eyes? — he said loudly enough for the girl to hear him.
She jerked and looked in his direction, pulling out her headphone. They looked at each other for about ten seconds, until O'Neil spoke:
— Said the one who spent days on end sitting at the phone or laptop. — she answered with a grin.
The girl closed the magazine, put it and the headphones on the pedestal and got out of bed, going to the window from which the softshell peeked out. She shoved him forcefully into the room and closed the window:
— What are you doing here?
— Me? I just wanted to visit you, to check how you are... — he was silent for a while, looking away. — How are you?
The girl raised an eyebrow, looking skeptically at a friend. Donnie sighed, admitting defeat:
— Yeah-yeah, I know, I'm lying bad. Just a mental problem, Apes.
— Do you want me to listen? — in response came a sad nod. — Sit down and wait. Be right back.
April left the room. Donnie, as his friend ordered, sat on the bed and waited, looking at her modest room. Solid walls hung with posters, garlands and photos. Photos with her, his brothers, with Splinter, her mom and Mayhem. Even joint photos with him and April, of which there were about five. Donatello smiled involuntarily. For the sake of such moments as to be with the one you love and cherish every moment, you want to live. April came soon with two cups of tea that both of them like. She crouched next to Don, giving him a cup, he gladly took it:
— Well... What happened? — she asked after a moment of silence.
— I had a nightmare. It has been repeated day after day since we got rid of Shredder.
— And what was there?
Donnie looked at April. And she understood from his gaze. She began to look at the floor, considering everything. It’s strange that it’s Donnie, not even Mikey, who dreams of it:
— It was terrible. — began von Ryan. — I am alone, brothers are dead, there is no tech, I can’t move. Shredder is in front of me, but I see that you are running towards him. But he throws you back and...
— And? — stuttered, the girl asked.
— He killed you. Crushed by a huge cargo box. — Donnie started looking at a point on the wall. — There was a lot of blood, I heard a bone crunch. Shredder wanted to attack me, but I woke up.
April looked frightened at her friend. Everyone shared their dreams with her, even Leo. Even Splinter! But not a single dream was so strange and cruel. And then the first dream that her best friend shared turned out to be just that. She wanted to support him, but Donnie continued:
— You know, I wanted to make a copy of Sunita's brooch. I wanted to become a human, wanted to study at school, go to college... But it turns out that we must fight all the villains, defending New York, and only God knows when this will end! — Donatello sobbed, bitter tears flowed from his eyes, dripping into sweet tea. — I do not want all this... I don’t want eternal battles, I don’t want victims, I don’t want... To die.
— Drop these thoughts, please! — O'Neil exclaimed, wiping the tears from the turtle’s eyes and holding a hand on his cheek. — You know that won't happen. You know that everything will be alright! Yes, we will fight for the preservation of the city, we will fight with the villains, but we will not die.
— YOU DO NOT KNOW THIS! — Don cried out, almost crushing the mug in his hands. He put it quickly on the pedestal and got out of bed. — All I hear is words! "Everything will be fine! We can do it! We will win!" But no one knows the real cruelty of life! However, I lost everything I created over the years in a couple of seconds! Shredder nearly killed me! He nearly crippled Raph and Mikey! He almost crippled YOU! I am glad that we generally survived those three days, but the uncertainty about what will happen scares me! I’m afraid that I can literally lose everything: our adventures, our games, watching TV, pizza, Leo’s jokes, Raph’s hugs, Mikey’s paintings, Splinter’s stories, and, most importantly, my only best friend! SO HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT EVERYTHING WILL BE ALRIGHT!? — he abruptly fell silent.
The room became very quiet, only sobs of the softshell and the sound of raindrops on the windowsill were audible. Donnie stood with his hands on his head, it seemed as if it would burst from his own scream. The throat now hurts, tears rolled down in a hail. This silence would have lasted longer if Von Ryan had not heard something. Is April... Crying? But she never... No... No, no, no! Donnie did not want to bring her to tears, he did not want to! The turtle knelt in front of her and put his hands on hers, holding a mug of tea that had already cooled down:
— Forgive me. I shouldn't have yelled at you. You are not to blame for our problems. You shouldn't have been involved.
— What!? — the girl was alarmed. Mayhem, which sat with her and reassured her, flinched. — You want to say that after all that we have experienced I am not a participant in all these troubles?! But I was the first to enter the Secret City. I helped you deal with the Purple Dragons, you guys saved me from Albearto, from Hypnopotamus, you defended my “Normal” day from Foot Clan, you helped to get Mayhem from the mirror, and I helped you with the missions. And remember, if I didn’t get on the train, we would not have guessed where Foot Clan had taken the armor! And you still think that I should not participate in this? So you don’t appreciate me as an important member of the team? As a family member?!
— It's not like that at all, April! — Donnie grabbed the girl by the shoulders. — I appreciate you! As a member of a team or family! And you can’t imagine how much I cherish you! I cherish the moment when we met! And I love you with all my heart, like a sister, but I'm afraid to lose you... — Donnie whispered.
It was a shame. He just wanted help, support, and in the end he upset his friend. What kind of friend is he who raises his voice? April's hand touched turtle's cheek, and he looked at the her. She smiled faintly. She is no longer angry, but a precipitate of sadness remains in her eyes:
— You're a fool. — O'Neil grinned. — Well, come here. — she put the mug down on the pedestal next to his and opened her arms for a hug.
Donnie looked at April in surprise. They had not hugged together for so long, as if never. Von Ryan wiped away his tears and reached for his friend, clutching in "warm shackles." They sat like this for about five minutes. April began to giggle.
— What are you doing? — Donnie asked perplexedly, not breaking his arms.
— It's nothing. Just... To talk out, we had to yell at each other. I hope this does not happen again?
— We’ll try to prevent this... Listen, um... Can I stay with you this night?
— Of course, dude. Of course. Just sleep on the couch. — she laughed. — Just kidding, of course. You sleep with me, so that in case of what I reassured you.
— Pf! As you say, April.
I wanted to write that Donnie is more outspoken with April
Just adore these two
/if there are errors in the translation, then tell me about them. I am doing my best/
#rottmnt#Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the tmnt#tmnt 2018#Donnie#donatello#rottmnt donnie#april#april o'neil#rottmnt april#someday i will write about apritello#rottmnt fic
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The Partner / Chapter Thirteen, "The Healing"
Word Count: 7.7k / Story Masterlist / Read The Assistant / Read on Wattpad / Song: I Will Follow You Into The Dark by Death Cab for Cutie / Warning: Sensitive and upsetting topics, such as death, grief, and miscarriage
*
"Since I've met you everything I've done has been in part because of you. I've cant untie myself from you, not my heart or my mind or any other part of me and I don't want to. I always thought love made you stupid make you weak, to love is to destroy. Love didn't make you weak, it made you stronger than anybody I'd met and I realized I was the one who was weak."
- City of Glass
Everything inside of me shouts to flee, to run away from him, but I know that I can't do that anymore. A new old awkwardness steals the space between us as I look into his eyes, feeling mine pour over with the feelings that his stir in me.
"Come on, let's get comfy for this," Harry murmurs. Next, I'm squealing when he stands up, carrying me in his arms. It's easier than I thought it would be when my arms circle his neck, and my head finds his shoulder. "You're lighter, Becks."
I hum an acknowledgement of sorts, not knowing what I could say to that, but part of me thinks that he knows that. I know that he does. That's not what I say next, but something else instead, "Claire's food might help with that. If you stop eating my brookies."
"Your brookies, you say? I don't remember her putting your name on them," he responds. Something sparks inside of me at the sound coming from his chest, the beginning of a laugh. It continues with its song as his feet find the whines and creaks of the hardwood floor. It had been a good while since I'd felt lucky to get to hear his sound, and even more so, to see it at work when he gently lays me down on the bed.
"I guess I can share."
"You're going to have to," Harry says, a duality in his words. I hear it bounce around in my head as I watch him join me underneath the covers. A sliver of lingering afternoon sun peeks in from the window, highlighting the freckles decorating his face.
At that thought, a sour guilt knits together in my gut, because how had I ever stopped feeling lucky to have him? I had wanted him for so long and couldn't believe it when I finally got to call him mine. Even more so when I got to call him my fiance, and the father of my child. He still was, nothing had changed that, and I was so grateful for it.
"There's no pressure, bug. No judgement and no wrong answers . . Alright?"
"Alright," I whisper, still shocked at how weird his touch feels. That was something I never thought I'd think two years into loving him now. My fiance and best friend. His lips hold sunshine when I finally meet his eyes, a color that makes my heart squeeze, because of what I wonder. "I can't tell you how many times I've wondered if she'd have your eyes. Your dimples. Your . . curls."
His nod is silent and yet it's not. It speaks volumes as my favorite shade of green hides behind the sadness filling his eyes. "I've wondered that too, but I've always wished our kids had your eyes. I know she would've been beautiful, just like her Mom."
"Harry," it's a sigh, one damaged by pain that doesn't even skim the surface of how that makes me feel.
"I know, bug. I know," his voice is light like a feather, but as his hand comes to cradle my cheek, I know it's the least bit that. Leaning into his hand, my lips quiver under the weight of his words and those I know I need to say. "I miss her too . . all of the time, Becks."
"What did I do wrong? I still don't understand w-why, Harry," looking up at him through watery eyes, I watch his reaction and how this one stings.
"You didn't do anything wrong, honey. You did it all by the book. Neither of us did and we can't continue to blame ourselves for something that we had no control over . . I wish I could tell you why, but I can't. I don't know. I don't think we ever will know why, Becks."
"I wish I knew why she had to die," I crumple in his hands until I'm hiccuping sobs against his neck, my favorite hiding place that I'd been hiding from. It had been so hard sometimes to just breathe, and now as I fought for it, it felt a little bit easier. I had been slowly drowning this entire time in my own tears and grief, but finally I found hold of him, and he was saving me. I'd at last let him.
"I do too."
"I don't want to forget her, but it's so fucking hard to think about. I know I need to do s-something so that I can . . can think about other things, but then I feel guilty just thinking about not missing her all of the time," I confess against the chain of his necklace, feeling the way his chest heaves against mine.
"I've been thinking the same exact thing . . I never want her to be forgotten, she's our daughter, but her death doesn't need to consume us anymore, Becks. I know it's silly to say, but I don't think she'd want us to do that . . Even if she was only a baby, she'd want us to be happy. I know that grief doesn't let you pick and choose, but I want to be happy again. Happy that we got to be her parents for those almost four months- you know what, we're still her parents and we always will be. Nobody can take that away from us. I want to remember the good. The first time hearing her heartbeat and seeing her on the ultrasound, telling our families about her, and picking her name . . I never want to forget her, Becks, she's our daughter, but we're going to be okay. Maybe not today or in a week, but soon. I want to feel okay again, even though she's gone."
"So do I, Harry," I tearfully agree, busying myself by playing with the curls on the back of his neck. "I don't want . . want her to think that means I've forgotten her or that I love her less. I can't . . can't even imagine having another baby anytime soon."
"I'm not ready either, Becks, and that's okay. I don't know when I'll be. It's alright that we're not okay and may not be for a while, but she knows. I like to think she knows how loved she is, and she's being taken care of by so many loved ones who are telling her that. Our grandpas and grandmas."
"Yeah, she's pretty lucky."
"So are they," he murmurs. It's a while before my lungs calm down and my eyes find him again. A corner of his mouth twitches but a dimple doesn't appear. Instead, a tear and its trail does, glistening on his cheek. "Hi, pretty girl."
A smile is all that I can suffice. I find it too hard to look in his wet eyes for long, and resort to playing with his rings. It had felt awkward to me when I'd put mine back on, not being able to remember why I'd ever taken them off in the first place. But then I remember, and my chest heaves painfully at the memory. It was because of the blood. They had become caked with it and he'd noticed at the hospital and taken them off of me to wash. It hadn't been until earlier today that I'd had the courage to look at them again.
"I never got to feel her kick, and I'm not sure if I wish that I had because then it would've been harder . . Your turn," it's a whisper from my lips as his wait for me.
"I can't find it in myself to get rid of those flowers on the table . . I almost wish that they'd stop coming. Every note says the same thing in some variation, and they're just a blatant reminder every time I see them . . that our baby died."
"It's not just you," I confess and when his thumb settles on the strip of gauze still taped around the edge of my palm, I know that my secret is on its way out.
"Can I see it, please?"
"Sure . . it's really not that bad. It just bled a lot at first, and . . and I didn't know how to tell you," I answer, letting him peel the medical tape back to expose the scabbed over cut. It came as a bit of a shock to me too, somehow making the wound hurt again when I saw the look in his eyes.
"That looks like it hurt, buggie. What happened? I wish you had told me . . had let me help."
"I didn't do it to myself, Harry," I murmur, grabbing onto the courage to look into his eyes. He vocalizes an understanding and I nod, relieved. "Another fucking vase of flowers came a few days ago, I don't remember when. It fell out of my hands when I got it from the delivery guy at the door. A sound scared me when I was picking up the glass . . I don't even know who they were from, because I'm so sick of the flowers too, and so I threw them away . . I can't believe I did that, I still feel guilty about it."
"You shouldn't, love. It's okay. Accidents happen," he assures me. I hear a duality in his words again and find it hard to ignore. "My Mom wanted to come over one of these days to help out. Maybe I can give her the task of doing something with them. They're sore on the eyes for both of us, and I'm rather sure they're bothering my allergies."
"Good excuse," I wink and a dimple almost appears in his cheek. If one did, I don't get the chance to see, because he's pulling me against his chest. "You should tell your Mom that one. It's the safer one out of the two," I continue, feeling my body relax against his. My eyes fall closed at the feeling of his lips against the crown of my head. His favorite spot.
"I think I will . . It's your turn, buggie."
With a labored sigh, I comb my thoughts for one that's tame enough to admit. How could I ever sum up the sour emptiness that's consumed me ever since I woke up that morning without him and . . without her? the thought comes but within moments it's pushed away by another. I don't need to because he knows. Because the emptiness lives inside of him too.
"I feel like I need to find a pretty way to explain all of this- what I'm feeling, but I finally realized that I don't have to. You're feeling it all too," I hardly hear the words myself, and even so, I know that he hears what they really say. "The emptiness, or lack of feeling."
"Yeah, I am . . I'm sorry for exploding on you the other day about it . . About us going through the same thing. It wasn't the right way to do it."
"It's okay. I'm kind of glad for it. It woke me up and made me realize it's not just me m-mourning our daughter."
Harry hums a reply, one I'm not sure how to handle, but he does that for me, "I didn't want to tell you and upset you more, and frankly, I've tried to ignore it myself too." his lips pause. Only when I prompt him with a concerned question does he continue. "She's been trying to hide it, but Gemma told me my Mom is taking it hard. She hasn't told me herself but since she's staying with my sister, Gemma's noticed it and told me."
"Oh God. I had no idea. I've hardly spoken to her . . s-since," I huff, my thoughts spiraling when my scope opens beyond the two of us. "It's not just us hurting."
"Yeah, neither did I. She's done a good job of hiding it, that's for sure. I think what's worst for her is that she wants to do something to help, but doesn't know what. I haven't really let her come around, only to stop by a few times. I know your dad struggles with how to help and Skye too, they've told me so- and I don't intend to upset you by telling you this, so please don't be. I just don't want it to be a surprise to you."
"I know. Thank you," I mumble, hearing his classic hum in return. It had been so long since I'd felt his facial hair rub against my face, and somehow, it sends a tranquility across my body. "I can only imagine how upset my dad is. He was supposed to be a grandfather for the first time. I've spoken to him but, of course, he didn't mention it. That's Chuck for you."
"He told me that he didn't want to upset you, Becks, and he's a quiet one from what I know. To no surprise, he said that he'll be okay, but it's you that he's worried won't be," Harry shares aloud. The volume of his revelation grows inside of my head, but my well of responses shrink away. "Your turn."
Diving into the web of thoughts that have scattered my brain lately, I'm not sure where to go next, and so that's what I say, "I don't know what to say. So much of it is scary . . to think . . . to share."
"You don't have to be scared to tell me, Becks. Nothing bad is going to happen if you say it out loud. I promise. No judgement, bug." Shaking my head doesn't rid my head of them, despite knowing from experience that it wouldn't. Seconds pass and they only grow more stubborn, wanting to be there, and I realize the only way to get them to leave is to say them.
"Harry, wh-what if we try to have another baby and th-they die too?" a shiver runs down my spine before I even say it. When I do, my mouth trembles against his collarbone. Despite squeezing my eyes shut, I feel the hot tears escape them, painting his skin.
If I hadn't known him for as long as I had, his silence would have scared me. Still, I'd be lying if it didn't phase me, because I wait impatiently until he speaks again.
"It scares the shit out of me too, Becks. I can't even . . think about trying for another, because I'm afraid too . . that we'd lose them. The doctor said how many times that it's usually a one time thing, but that doesn't make me stop worrying or being scared. I wish I could tell you that we'd be okay, but . . I don't even know that. I hope so badly we will be, but I don't know."
"We can't know, and that's what hurts the most."
The rumbling of an agreement tickles at my ears and against my cheek where it hugs his chest. Thoughts bloom left and right inside of my brain and aren't even slowed by his fingers combing through my hair. It was something that had never failed to bring me comfort and to lull me into a sleep. That is until now.
"What do we do then . . Harry?" I whisper, fear laced throughout my words. Again, he hesitates. I can almost make out the sound of the wheels turning in his head as he thinks. Lying next to him and wrapped inside of his arms, the tension in his muscles reflects his thoughts.
"I wish I knew, Becks. We just . . have to give it time, I suppose. They say time heals wounds, but a month later and I still miss our baby that we never met. I don't get it . . . I guess we'll give it some time and wait until we're ready, that's all that we can do. And to take care of ourselves."
"And each other," I break in, feeling the movement of his head nodding at my words.
"Yes, that too. It's more important now than ever," Harry says, announcing his words by pulling away to look me in the eyes through his wet pair.
"I can't say how sorry I am that I forgot to take care of you too."
There's just a tert shake of his head I see before my eyes are falling closed, and he's kissing me. I'd done this how many times by now, but it still feels weird. It had been a long time since I'd thought that, probably since my accident, and yet as I kissed him back it felt strange before it felt familiar. Like seeing an old friend. He couldn't know that's why the next tear fell down my cheek when we were looking at each other again, because of the way I'd forgotten him and us through all of this.
"You don't need to keep apologizing. Promise," he tells me with a warm tilt to his lips, just as he taps my nose with his finger. "Boops."
"I love you, Harry," it had been born in my mind shortly after meeting him, this very sentence. At first, they weren't the same words, but they always had held the same meaning. It stirs up emotion inside of me, as if I needed any more, as the Guilt Train speeds on, reminding me of how that thought had been absent from my head lately. It hadn't been the first missing phrase, but it had been the most important one, hadn't it?
Nonetheless, a few dapples of sunshine spread out on his lips as they return it, "I love you more, Becks." His smile waits, hesitating as my own lips do the same. Smiling and thinking.
"I love you the most."
The softest of chuckles pours from his lips as something glints in his eyes staring down at me. "Hey, there's my girl. She's back."
Nodding at him, I realize it's been too long since my lips have reached this high, but he always seems to bring them back. He never fails, afterall.
"I'm getting there. I'm trying."
Inching his face towards mine, my eyes follow his as he brushes his nose against mine, "Thank you, thank you, thank you," his words tickle at my cheeks like a feather, but they don't make me sneeze. They don't make me laugh, and most important of all, they don't make me cry. They make me smile and finally soak in the sunshine he pours onto me. "That's all we can do, Becks - is to try and get better. Eventually we will . . We'll be okay, I know it, maybe not right away but we will."
With the taste of his chapstick on my lips once again, I nuzzle my head into his neck and fall asleep there, for the first time in a very long time. One that had felt longer than all of the other times that I had been without him, even if it wasn't, but it surely was the worst of them all. Because he was there by my side but I couldn't find it in me to reach out and grab onto him. As he sings our song and lulls me into a cryless sleep, I promise silently to never let go again.
*
I woke with a start. It was a surprise, but after it took me a moment to make sense of my surroundings, it wasn't. I had been waking up this way for weeks now, but it didn't make it any easier to breathe this time. Especially not when I found the bed empty beside me. That was something I wouldn't have minded if it were even just two days ago, but no, not now.
Throwing back the covers, my eyes searched the dark room, unbeknownst to what time it was. That didn't let me fall back into the covers and search for sleep again. I hadn't been rational for a while now, and I wasn't when I raced to the door. Somebody beat me to it and upon looking up, a half asleep Harry looked down at me. Confusion twisted his eyebrows into a question but I knocked that off when I circled him in a hug. The sound of a breath leaving him came and then did his arms around me, and my crying.
"Hey, what's the matter?" he murmurs, sleep adding layers to his voice.
"I woke up and you weren't there, I was so scared."
A sound that couldn't be described, other than a huff of acknowledgement comes now from him, "Oh, I'm so sorry, bug. I was just getting a glass of water from the kitchen . . It's still the middle of the night, let's go back to bed."
I let him guide me back to our mess of covers that we call a bed. He pulls them over us and at the feeling of his head hooked over my chin, I try to calm down. It's never been something that I was good at doing on my own.
"Was it a bad one this time?"
A nod.
"What was yours about?"
"You didn't just get up for water, did you?" I ask into the empty air, surely the rest of the city asleep without us. We weren't up early for work or up late from other things. No, I was certain that very few others across the world were awake for the same reason that we were.
"No," he answers, his chest heaving with a sound of sadness escaping him. If only it were that easy. "I'll tell you what mine was about, if you'll tell me about yours."
"You should've been a therapist instead of a lawyer, always getting me to talk," I joke, trying to ease the tension. That wasn't what I was doing, but instead, I was deflecting. Like always. "I was watching everybody around us having kids and . . and we didn't have any . . Your turn."
"We . . We were in the new house and we had a baby. Phoebe," Harry confesses, a hollowness to his voice that hadn't been there since that day. I could tell by the sound of his voice that the waterworks weren't very far. Soon, it was my turn to hold him as his body shook with cries as I tried to keep my own in check.
"That sounds like a good dream," I almost said, knowing there was no point to it. It's the very reason his body shook with each loud sob, because it only made the nightmare scarier.
It was only after a few horribly sung songs to him that his soft snores began, mine soon following.
*
Upon waking up the next morning, it still didn't feel real that I was allowed to be hopeful. To try and be happy and to not feel guilty about it. A small smile hugged the corners of my lips when I remembered the way she sang me to sleep last night despite the upsetting reason for the occasion. I tried to push the memory of that nightmare away and how hauntingly real it had felt. I let my smile linger at recalling the way she took care of me. I had craved it for too long now, the way that I had needed her and at last she had let me.
Those are the thoughts that stayed with me when I pulled on my layers and did my morning walk, leaving her sound asleep with a kiss to her head. Despite the unwavering winter, it was something that had meant more to me than I'd initially planned. Even on the mornings where it took me half an hour or more to talk myself into getting out of bed, I still went on for a walk. It had started small, seeing as how I'd lost any workout regimen when everything had come crashing down. I started small and just walked around the block, but now, I had worked my way up to half an hour walks around the neighborhood.
By the time I'd made my way back to the house, I could hardly feel my nose and could think of nothing better than to slip back into bed with her. The letdown was more severe than I'd expected when I didn't find her in between the sheets. I couldn't be sure if I was surprised, but that was forgotten entirely when I also couldn't find her in the bathroom, in the kitchen, or in the living room. I didn't even waver at the bottom of the staircase before climbing it, ripping open doors frantically in search of her. No longer did I fret about the coldness of my limbs as an anxious warmth had spread over me. The thrashing of my heart and the irrational thoughts filling my head all came to a halt when I opened the door to the nursery, and there she was, sitting on the bed where everything was too.
Something swelled and shattered deep inside of me, leaving me breathless as I stood there, watching her. I looked on as she half faced me, clutching a gray onesie to her chest as guttural sobs consumed her. Recognizing it wasn't what made my hand fly to my mouth, and I wasn't sure what did that. It must have been a combination of the first thing we bought for our child that had passed away, and the fact that she was holding it. What had done it for me was opening this door to see her in here. The room of all rooms. It was where our baby was supposed to sleep, and slowly we had filled it with things meant for them. Now, it had become a mausoleum of sorts, and not once had I stepped foot in here since that fateful day at the hospital.
Pressing my hand against my quivering lips didn't silence the sounds they made as the rivers coursed down my face. Something resonated inside of me, telling me that she knew I was there. My vocal chords had taken a vacation the second I entered the room and laid eyes on her. Unlike them, my legs still worked and they carried me over to her. Sitting down beside her felt regretful when her cries became louder to my ears, and so did their trails on her cheeks. Her body shook harder when my arms came around her, holding her against me from behind. Mumbling her name had never felt so laborious or excruciating, but when she said our daughter's name, I knew it didn't compare.
"Can we . . . ," she started to say, a rockiness to her voice that was becoming far too normal as of late. "Can we look at it all together and then . . can we pack it away?"
Nodding against her cheek, I hummed an agreement. Looking down at her hands rolled into taut fists around the fabric, a memory swam into view, one I'd been trying to forget. She'd finally come around to the idea of being pregnant and during our first shopping trip after my accident, we'd perused the baby aisles happily. The FRIENDS 'Could I Be Any Cuter?' baby onesie had caught our attention right away, and we couldn't wait to put our little baby in it.
Pressing my lips to her shoulder now, I look on as she folds it nicely, smoothing her hand over the letters and the dark spots from her tears. With my mouth against the slope of her neck, my eyes followed when she took out the stuffed giraffe, a sob catching in her throat. There I remained, slowly finding my voice and smoothing my thumb over the plushie, knowing our baby would never play with the gift from her grandmother.
I took the next thing out of the bags we had been gifted from friends and family over the last few months. More stuffed animals and clothes passed through our hands, as did knitted blankets, hats, and more. With each one, the shoulder of her shirt grew wetter with my sad realization that our daughter would never get to love these things, because she was well and truly gone. She was never going to be born and be brought home to live in this house with us, or any other.
It shook my body for long after we placed each folded and caressed item into the plastic bin. She took longer to calm down inside of my arms, and even singing our song couldn't make it all better. For a good while now I had come to accept that nothing would except for time. Maybe not even that either.
*
In some way and somehow, it had been one of the worst days, despite the feeling I had that things were getting better. Slow it may be, but they were. It had almost been a month now since we'd lost our baby and it still hurt as much as the first day. I know he could hear the words bouncing around inside of my head, even if I didn't say them.
"Today was hard, huh?" Harry's murmured words smell of minty toothpaste when they hit my face. The words in my head can't find a way to my lips, and nor can my eyes find his. "How about this, bug. Can you rate how your day was? 10 being the worst ever pain and 0 being none?"
I find it in me to nod my head at his words, encouraged by his hand lacing with mine. The amethyst rings he'd surprised me with not long ago roots me to the moment as I brush my thumb along its stones.
"Eight . . and a half," I whisper, seeing from the corner of my eye how his head moves in acknowledgement. Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, it's hard to not see how he bites at his lip. His one tell that could reveal everything. "Your turn."
"It was rather close to a nine for me, as well, but . . . ," his words run away from him, and for some reason, it pulls my eyes over to him. Before seeing them, I know that the wet trails down his cheeks are what made my heart find him with my eyes. "I feel guilty even thinking about it, let alone saying it, but . . it felt good somehow to go through her things together and pack them away. I don't know how I'll ever not miss her, but it feels like some kind of closure."
His confession comes to me as a surprise, but not one that pulls my hand from his or otherwise. No, it keeps my eyes on his and turns my lips up in a comforting smile.
"Me too," I concur, looking on as a sad smile flashes on his face. It's gone as fast as his hand gets caught in his hair.
"God, I never knew something could be th-this fucking hard," he stammers, pressing his thumbs against his eyes. His overgrown curls move when his head shakes.
"Neither did I," it's a whispered reply, coming just before I'm mentally brought back to the day Myles told me that Harry had been shot. Laying my eyes on his naked torso now, I curse myself for getting used to the pink scars littering his body from that day.
Suddenly, I'm doing it all over again, wondering which day had been the worst of my life. Then or the day I'd been told our baby didn't have a heartbeat anymore. I'd done it how many times now and was never able to decide. I hadn't lost him but I'd lost her, and that's what made the two fateful days so different. Squeezing my eyes shut, I exhale and open them again, deciding that I don't need to rank them. They both were excruciatingly awful in their own ways, and will always be some of the worst days of my life.
"It kind of makes you want to drink, huh?" I say before I know what I'm doing. The guilt is instantaneous despite the honesty filling my words. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't-."
"No, you're alright, Becks. You're just speaking the truth and that's what I've wanted for us - to be honest with one another," letting his hand fall from his hair, so do his words from my favorite pair of lips. Turning to lay on his side from being on his back, the bedside lamp sheds light on the black ink covering his skin. "It's made me want to drink so badly, almost as much as when we broke up and all of those other times, so that I could forget. Has it made you want to?"
"Yeah. I was a little mad at you sometimes for it," the admission comes and on its tail end is the guilt, strong and present as ever. His eyes still shine but with that sentence they dull. I blink and it's gone, but the regret pooling from my words doesn't.
"You don't need to feel bad for saying that. I can tell by the look on your face that you are. You can be honest with me, I promise."
"Thanks, and you can with me too. Always, Harry," I respond and the momentous curling of his lips tells me that he heard. "Can I ask . . did you at all . . drink?"
"No," he sighs loudly, dipping his eyes, they fall on my left hand. He'd done it time and time again, and yet, the sensation felt stronger than ever, the way he played with my rings. This time is different though and so is the flash of a smile on his face. "I don't think the urge had ever been stronger, but I resisted. I admit I was close at times, but each time I was, I called my sponsor or Myles. We'd talk for hours in my study, either about you and the baby with My' or about the urge to drink. If I'd had a bottle around here . . God, I knew I'd probably have emptied it and even that thought scares me. I don't want to be like this, Becks." Sniffling, a shiny tear falls from the tip of his nose and onto my knot ring.
"How bad is it today, Harry? Rate it."
"A good seven," he confesses, tearing a hole in my heart when his wet eyes briefly meet mine. "But I had a meeting this morning on Zoom before you were awake, and those have helped a lot. I didn't want to do them at first . . after we'd lost her, but I kept with it, and it made a world of difference . . Myles has really been there for me too- No, don't even say it. Don't apologize again, you have nothing to be sorry for," his words grow murky with tears, ones that I feel against my forehead when his lips sponge a kiss there.
"I would if you'd let me," a weak joke passes my lips and a hint of his chuckle sounds. Holding his eye contact had felt so difficult for so long, but now, I want nothing more than to keep it. "I can't believe I'd forgotten about your meetings, but I'm really glad to hear you've been keeping up with it. Thank you . . But still, I'm so sorry for forgetting about you, and your . . "
"My alcoholism. You can say it, Becks, it's okay. It's not going to upset me . . It's true, I'm an alcoholic. I probably always will be, but hopefully it stays that way, in the past."
Nodding doesn't feel like enough but words escape me, like they so often have recently. I'm saved by the bell, quite literally, when a ding! interrupts our conversation. Rolling onto his stomach, Harry almost looks like a different person with the majority of his tattoos now hidden.
"Oh, yeah," he murmurs, making the bed move when he turns around. "I have yoga tomorrow in the morning."
When his eyes meet mine something in them prods at me, and my feeling sparks, almost knowing what he'll say.
"Would you like to come with? My favorite instructor is back again. I haven't been in ages but think it'd be good to go back, and to get out of the house," Harry proposes, his phone locking with the electronic click! Dropping it onto the covers, he moves around until he's comfortable again, waiting for an answer. "You don't have to if you don't want to, it's just an idea, bug. I don't-."
"Yeah, that'd be nice, actually. It's um, still done with the lights off mostly, right?" I craft my question carefully, waiting for his response that soon confirms my wonderings.
"Yep, as far as I know. So, if it hits us we can do our crying and nobody will know any different."
"Good," is all I say when I thread my arms around his middle, searching for the beating of his heart with my ear.
With the stroking of his fingers through my hair came a relaxation like no other. It was one that I hadn't been able to find in so long.
"Thank you," his words coast over the top of my head, stirring me from my almost sleep. "For coming back to me, Becks."
"Thanks for picking me back up."
"Always," was the last word he spoke before I drifted off to sleep with his lips pressed to my head, humming a song.
*
Before I opened my eyes, I knew it. I could tell by the sun shining on my face. I hadn't felt that in months, the London winter having descended on us months prior. Gray skies kissed with snow flurries had replaced the robin blue skies I knew that I'd see, the warblers and chickadees singing around me already. Flicking my toes skywards, soft stalks of wheat grass and flower petals tickled my legs. It smelled of sunshine and dirt when I breathed in my surroundings, just like the smells of summer back in Madley.
Already, I knew where I was and that upon opening my eyes what I'd see. Tears already sat underneath my eyelids when I opened them, spilling over my waterline when I knew she'd be there, waiting for me.
I was in heaven, wasn't I?
The trees around me kissed the sky with their golden branches and ripe fruits dangling from their limbs. Not one ivory cloud dotted the sky, the blue of robin's eggs filling it instead. No, that wasn't what my thoughts focused on or fought for. With my eyes, I forgot about them and the warbling brook off in the distance. I searched for her, left and right, and up and down.
But I couldn't find her anywhere. Not behind the towering maples over my shoulder, tucked into the cluster of black eyed susans to my left, or even next to the fawn asleep a few paces away, its mother beside it. They came faster down my cheeks as breaths halted in my lungs, searching for my own baby.
Only could my chest fill again with air when I turned back to face ahead, and by a miracle, there she was. The same olive dress hung down to her knees, and a smile bigger than the last time clung to her rose colored lips. His mouth. His nose too, and most beautiful of all, Harry's sage eyes sat in hers below shoulder length curls the same chestnut shade of his.
"Mummy!" she shouted in a voice dripping with honey, one that covered me all over when her arms came around me.
"Phoebe," I cried into her hair, the smell of Harry's vanilla and notes of citrus surrounding me. My hands shook as they raked through her hair soft as ribbons, and I held on. I never wanted to let go, because I knew that she was my baby. My Phoebe Anne.
Neither did she, even when she pulled away to look into my eyes with her glistening pair. His giggle escaped her lips as I made quick work of the tears painting her cheeks.
"I'm so sorry, Mummy."
My head couldn't shake faster and my heart couldn't keep up with how it grew at the sight of her. "You have nothing to be sorry about, Sweet Pea, it's nobody's fault."
"I didn't want to leave you and Daddy, Mummy," she confesses in a choked sob, bringing her dainty hand to hold my cheek. I smile back at her, unsure of how my lips could reach so high as I stare at the baby that I'd lost. "But I didn't have a choice."
"It's okay, Pea. I promise. Daddy and I know," my words are shaky, and so are my hands that card through her hair. Tan freckles dot her cheeks and nose, tickled by thick dark lashes donning her eyes. She's real. My Phoebs. "We love you so much, you'll always be our baby girl."
A nod replaces her words before she dives back into my arms again. Her cries sound like muffled squeaks against my front, and if I thought it were fake, her hands caught in the back of my dress confirm it. Her tepid tears soaking through the fabric. Her sunshine warmth against mine, just like his. Harry.
No sooner had I lifted my head and parted my lips, does a tree creaking in the distance catch my attention. Her head lifts too, the same color of her curls appearing from behind its trunk.
"Daddy!" she exclaims. I couldn't mistake it anywhere, the loud laugh that I hear from across the field. It's the one that has filled my dreams and made all of them come true. Peering down at her, her lips are pointed skywards again as she beams at me. "It's Daddy, Mummy! We're together again. A family."
I've blinked and he's only a step away, dimples set deep into his cheeks. Once more, his sunshine is dancing across my face as he looks at me.
"I always knew she'd be beautiful, just like her Mum," Harry remarks
fondly, eyes falling and I follow them. Instead of a young girl wrapped in my arms, a pink baby is cradled in them. The very one I'd found crying in that hospital crib, waiting for me. "Our Phoebe, baby Pea."
Something like a happy hum fills my lips as he takes the last step and wraps an arm around me, the both of us.
"My girls," Harry coos, sponging a kiss to my temple before bending down to press a whispery kiss to our daughter's forehead. It wrinkles at the touch, but she relaxes and continues to stare up at us. Again, his sage greens sit in her eyes as the dimple in her left cheek twinkles when her lips give a smile.
I lean into him, feeling his nose pressed against my temple as she coos, her beautiful face growing hazy in front of my teary eyes.
"It's okay, Becks, we don't have to be broken anymore. She's okay, she'll always be our baby, our daughter. We won't forget her, she knows that, and she won't forget us either. They'll take care of her for us until we come back," he murmurs, lifting my head with his words to find familiar figures walking out of a cluster of oak trees from our left.
"Grandpa Holte," I whisper in amazement, catching the smile on his wrinkled face.
"And mine too," Harry adds when we see his grandfather appear from behind a birch tree. The wind whipping through the trees and the singing of the birds quiets and so does my heart when I see who appears at my grandfather's side.
"Grandma Ann," I hardly hear it myself, the words that I speak caught between tears. The smile framing them grows at the sight of a black goldendoodle bounding towards us, Harry's dog Lola who passed away not long after we'd met.
"They'll take care of her for us," Harry repeats. I see it in his eyes when I reluctantly look away from our family walking towards us. He nods and a corner of his mouth lifts again. "She'll watch over us, Becks, just like they've all been doing. She's our guardian angel, our little Phoebs."
I nod to his words, closing my eyes when his forehead touches mine, resting there. Only do I open them again to look down at the curious baby who remains quiet, reaching a hand over to smooth back her ebony colored hair. His lips graze my forehead once more and I bury my head into his neck, cradling her tiny head.
"It's okay, Mummy," I hear, her honey sweet voice saying in my head. "I'm okay, and you and Daddy will be too. I want you both to be happy, because it's okay to be . . It's okay."
The twinkling of the alarm clock steals me away, and I'm suddenly staring at the ceiling. Soft light peeks in through the curtains, dancing across the walls and duvet cover. Turning my head, I feel the coolness of the pillow graze my cheek as I search for him. As if he knew what I was thinking, his messy head of curls turned towards me. A sleepy smile pulls at his lips, a tired twinkle in his eye.
"You wouldn't believe the dream I just had, Becks. I-It was about . . about the baby. Phoebs."
"Try me," I smile, already feeling the onset of tears as he smiles back at me, them not far off in his eyes either.
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles au#harry styles fic#harry styles writing#harry styles wattpad#wattpad#one direction#one direction fanfiction#directioners#hecky#harry x becks#vanchlo writes
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A Rock War and The Clubhouse
NOT MY GIF
Chapter 7
~ 3rd Person POV, The Losers Club~
The group was walking down the street with their bikes by their sides. Well, all except Richie who was biking in circles around the group.
"Y'know we love being your personal doormen. Really, could you idiots have taken any longer?" Richie asks.
"Don't bring me into this." Ashton said.
"Alright shut up Richie!" Eddie exclaimed.
"Yeah, shut up Richie!" Stan called out after.
"Oh okay! Trash the trashmouth! I get it! Hey, I wasn't the one who was scrubbing the bathroom floor and imagining that her sink went all Eddie's mom's vagina on Halloween." Richie shouted.
"She didn't imagine it." Bill said, causing the group to stop.
"I s-s-suh-saw something too." Bill told.
"You saw blood too?" Stan asked, his voice cracking.
"Not Blood." Bill muttered.
"He saw Georgie." Ashton responded.
"It seemed so real." Bill finished.
"I mean, it seemed like him, but there was this-" Bill paused , but was cut off.
"A clown." Eddie muttered out, looking at the ground.
Eddie then looked around and continued with, "Yeah, I saw him too."
Bill then looked at Ben, and the chubby boy nodded. Bill looked over at Stan, and he also nodded and made eye contact with Bill.
"Wait, can only virgins see this stuff? Is that why I'm not seeing this shit?" Richie asked.
"What about Ashton?" Beverly asked.
"No, sorry I haven't seen anything out of the ordinary." Ashton said, with an almost guilty look on her face.
"But didn't you say you saw the clown Bill did?" Stan asked.
"Well, I didn't see it. Bill just told me he saw it." Ashton responded.
"How? We all met up this morning. How'd he tell you without us hearing?" Stan asked, his voice more skeptical.
"I slept over at Bill's yesterday, he told me after it happened." Ashton explained.
The group was silent for a bit before they heard shouting from behind the trees. They looked to where it came from and spotted the car.
"Oh, shit. That's Belch Huggins' car. We sh-should probably get out of here." Eddie said, looking back at the group.
"Wait, isn't that the homeschooled kids bike?" Bill asked, pointing it out in the grass.
"Yeah, that's Mikes." Eddie answered.
"We have to help him." Beverly said.
"We should?" Richie asked.
"Yes." Ashton responded in an obvious tone, before she and Beverly dropped their bikes and rushed towards the shouts, causing the rest of the group to drop their bikes as well, except Stan who put his on it's stand.
Next to a shallow river, The Bowers gang were shoving the homeschooled kid's face, Mike, into a large piece of meat, which Mike hated. The boy tried hard to fight against Bowers, stepping on his head. Eventually, it worked and Mike's face was in the meat while The Bowers gang kept screaming to eat it.
Mike lifted his head up and looked to the side, where across the shallow river, he saw a clown staring at him with blood on its face, eating what seemed to be the arm of a kid. The clown then used the hand to wave at Mike with a smile.
Mike, now terrified, tried getting up to run but Belch kicked his face to the side and Bowers threw him to the ground and pinned him to the rocky ground and growled loudly in his face. Bowers then picked up a rock and lifted it to hit the younger boy. Then, out of nowhere, a rock was launched at Bowers' head, causing him to fall off of Mike.
The Bowers gang and Mike looked over to see who threw it, only to see none other than Beverly Marsh standing on the other side of the river.
"Nice throw, Red." Ashton complimented.
"Thanks." Beverly said, just before Mike dragged himself into the river trying to get to his saviors.
Ashton then picked up a rock and then rushed to help Mike. The small girl grabbed his forearm and pulled him behind the rest of the group.
"You okay, Homeschool?" Ashton asked, eyes not leaving Bowers and his goons.
By the time Ashton did all that, the rest of the Losers all had rocks in their hands.
"Yeah Yeah, Thank you, so much." Mike said, panting.
Before Ashton could say something, Bowers cut her off, "Holy shit. Is that Wenbrooke?"
Ashton then looked up at the comment, confused, before Bowers continued, "Nice to see you learned how to dress, like a good girl."
"Shut up Bowers!" Stan yelled, his cheeks slightly red.
Bowers ignored his comment and said, "You Losers are trying too hard."
"They'll do you. You just gotta ask nicely." Bowers said, referencing Beverly and Ashton.
"Like I did." Bowers continued, grabbing his crotch, and pulling up while smirking.
Ben then screamed, but was meant to be taken as a war cry, before chucking a rock at Bowers' head. Stan then threw a rock at the gang as well, and The Bowers Gang caught on and rushed to pick up rocks too.
"Rock War!" Richie shouted, just before getting hit with a rock directly at his face, causing him to fall over.
The Losers then threw rocks at The Bowers Gang, while they did the same. After a bit it looked like the losers were winning, this gave Eddie and Ashton enough courage to jump into the stream, Eddie chucked a rock at Belch Huggins, hitting him in the head. Ashton threw one at Victor Criss, hitting him in the stomach. By now, Mike had also joined in throwing rocks at the group's tormentors.
Belch then screamed at Beverly, "Fuck you, Bitch!" , which caused her to hit him in the head.
Bowers ended up on the ground, and his friends then ran away. The eight losers then looked over at bowers, catching their breaths. They then decided to leave, so Stan and Eddie helped Mike up and walked away with him and Ben, Bill and Beverly shortly behind.
"Go blow your dad, you mullet wearing asshole!" Richie shouted at Bowers, flipping him off with both hands. Shortly after, Ashton came up behind Richie and pulled him away to the rest of the group, leaving Bowers alone on the ground.
Small A/N: (In It Chapter 2, Ben said they went to the clubhouse after the rock war.)
The Losers walked down a hill in a straight line.
"Thanks guys, but you shouldn't have done that, he'll be after you guys too now." Mike told the group.
"Oh no no no, Bowers, he's always after us." Eddie responded, looking back.
"I guess that's one th-th-thing we all have in common!" Bill mentioned, with a small smile.
"Yeah homeschool, Welcome to the Losers Club!" Richie shouted from the back of the line.
"Hey, guys, I have somewhere we can hide!" Ben mentioned, causing the group to stop.
"Alright new kid, show us the way." Ashton said, patting the boy's shoulder with a small smile.
Ben led the group through the forest and lifted up a wooden hatch, and climbed down.
Then Beverly climbed down as well and looked around. After her was Ashton, who had a bright smile on her face.
After Richie came down he asked, "What the dick is this? How'd you build it?" then began looking around.
Bill then added, "When did you build it?"
"Here and there, I guess. It was already dug out for something, so I just had to reinforce the walls and get some wood for the, the roof door, and that's pretty much it." Ben answered, while all the others kept looking around.
"Pretty good for my first time, huh?" Ben asked, and patted a wooden pillar, causing a wood panel to fall from the roof.
"Now that's a cool feature. What happens when you put your hand on the other pillar professor?
"Now you see, this is exactly why there are safety codes, why we have permits." Eddied ranted, smacking his hands together for emphasis.
"This place is a death trap, you understand that?" Eddie asked Ben, looking him in the eye.
"Well, it's a work in progress, okay Eddie?" Ben mumbled.
"Just so you know, I get hurt, you're liable and also what is this? The switch from Iron Maiden?" Eddie asked, pointing at a flashlight.
"That's a flashlight." Ben answered.
"And what is that, a horse hitch? When do you have horses down-Oh this is cool." Eddie asked, but then cut himself off, and picked up a paddle ball.
"That was like three dollars, so be careful with that please." Ben mumbled.
"I have one of these." Eddie mentioned, before playing with it, and making the ball go in Stan's direction.
"Hey Stan, you see this?" Eddie asked.
"Yeah, can you maybe not." Stan answered, stuttering from trying to avoid the ball.
"Maybe not what? Hold on, maybe not what, maybe not what? Be awesome and have fun and celebrate the magic of the paddle ball!" Eddie teased while making it hit Stan face over and over, before accidentally letting go and breaking the toy.
"Wow. Oh, good going fuck nut you broke his thing." Eddie blamed it on Stan.
"I broke it?!" Stan asked, ticked off.
"Yeah you broke it with your face." Eddie answered.
"Wha-" Stan was about to ask before Asthon cut him off.
"Oh shut it Spaghetti. You kept hitting him, and you broke Ben's paddle ball." Ashton said while grabbing her bag.
"Here, I won it at the arcade." Asthon mentioned, grabbing a paddle ball from her bag and handing it to Ben.
"Thanks!" Ben thanked, smiling brightly.
"Now, Spaghetti. Apologize." Ashton said, standing in between Eddie and Stan.
"What?! He broke it! Not me!" Eddie shouted.
Ashton then crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow, "Eddie."
"Ugh! Fine! I'm sorry." Eddie said, looking at Stan.
"Thanks," Stan said, mostly to Ashton.
Mike then chuckled a bit, causing Richie, Bill and Bev to as well.
"What?" Ashton asked.
"It's just, you're kinda like the mom of the group. I think you'd be a good one." Mike answered with a smile.
"Ouch, how dare you." Ashton teased with a smile as she leaned against the wall.
"So wh-what do you g-guys think we should c-call this place?" Bill stuttered out.
"Obviously, The Clubhouse." Richie answered.
The group agreed, glad that they had a place to escape their problems and hang out with each other.
*•~Emo-Gay-Tea~•*
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#it 2017#it chapter 1#thank you losers#ashton wenbrooke#bill denbrough#beverly marsh#mike hanlon#losers club#you'll float too#oc insert
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Jealousy is an ugly thing
Clare: was almost to the school when Dakota caught up with her. "Maybe I should give you my phone number so you can text me on the days you want to walk here together." She said half joking. Clare knew it was only because they were coming from the same direction. She doubted it would turn into a regular thing and that was okay. Clare smiled. "Sure, but I'm not good at making up excuses so you'll have to explain why yourself." She didn't mind doing favors for her friends and Clare guessed Dakota counted as a friend. She accepted the bag without question. She wasn't expecting what happened next though. Clare didn't know who the girl he was arguing with was or who Emi was for that matter. At first she thought it must be the name of the girl he was dating who went to another school. Maybe this girl was delusional and Dakota had been stringing her along without realizing it. Or maybe he did realize it and he really was the biggest player at Degrassi. Way worse than K.C and the boys Alli had dated as her best friend insisted on cautioning her even though Clare wasn't interested in Dakota. But if he was like that maybe she shouldn't become friends with him. Clare thought about turning away and going on to class like Dakota had meant for her to do. Then what Dakota was saying started not to add up because Clare didn't have any of the facts. Maybe Dakota could have been talking about a girlfriend. She didn't discount that he could be serious enough about his giirlfriend to say he loved her especially if she'd been abandoned by someone. Her parents? But for her to already be the most important person in his life? It didn't make sense. Clare hadn't gotten the impression he'd been seeing her a long time. What was all this stuff about how Emi shouldn't be wandering around alone because she could be kidnapped by a pedophile?! Clare blushed when Dakota turned back to her. She was embarrassed he knew she'd purposely witnessed the entire incident, whatever that was. "Okay, good idea. I've got questions about...school work." Clare said completely ignoring the girl he'd told to stay away from Emi. "Dakota, Emi's not your girlfriend is she?" She asked quietly as they headed towards the classroom.
Kota: looked at the Clare when she asked about school work. "Ok." he said and listened to her question as they walked to the classroom. "Emi's-" he was cut off when he felt something at his leg. "Sorry, Dakota, she ran threatening to look for you. I couldn't get her to cooperate unless I bought her here." the daycare teacher said and Dakota put his hand on Emi's head. "This isn't like you, Emi." he cooed and looked at her. "Please don't leave me Kota-momma." she cried and he picked her up. "Shhh. I'm not leaving you." he cooed and held her in his arms. "I think this is about the girl I saw bullying her yesterday. I went to interfere, but I saw you chase after her." the teacher said and he looked at her. "Yea I didn't catch her, but I caught a glimpse of her student ID in her book bag so it was easy for me to find her." he admitted. "Don't worry, Emi. Kota took care of it. You don't have to try so hard anymore and the girl won't bully you." he explained and looked at Clare. "Clare, that girl you saw me yell at, do you know her name? I wasn't really paying attention when I was chasing her." he admitted. "If I get her name, they can make sure she won't hurt Emi again or continue putting her through his." he said and looked at the daycare instructor. "You can go back to the daycare. Emi's sleeping and starting to burn up from the stress and bullying she's been put through. I'm probably going to take her home and take care of her." he explained and looked at Clare. "This is Emi. She's the reason I haven't been sleeping. Her mom abandoned her a few weeks ago after coming back from Japan. My uncle, her dad, died and my aunt couldn't hack it so it was decided that she'd stay with my family and since my older sister can't have kids and we all felt it wouldn't be right for her to raise Emi only to connect to her and feel worse about not being able to have kids on her own so I'm Emi's mom until my aunt returns for her." he explained. "I drop her off and pick her up from daycare, do my homework while she draws pictures besides me, share a bed with her at night so she won't feel alone, and scold her. Speaking of which, the onigiri I told you about, she wasn't mad. She slapped a kid for laughing at her lunch. She knows her mom left her and asks when she's coming back for her, but no one knows where she went or why she left. Emi right now does everything she can to be a good girl because she just remembers her mom yelling at her a lot before she left and connects the two together and blames herself for it. She keeps her feelings hidden in fear she'll burden us and at times we forget she's just five, but I think her memories are what causes her to be the best person she can." he explained and moved Emi a little to feel her head. "Kota, 'm kold." Emi muttered in her sleep and Kota did his best to get his jacket around both of them. When they got to the classroom Kota knew all eyes were on them. "I'm sorry, she tried to run here and forced a daycare teacher to take her since she wouldn't calm down. She's running a fever. I don't know what else to do." he explained to their teacher and watched as he walked over to feel Emi's head. "This is the only time I'm allowing this because both your cousin and your school work are equally important and as her guardian you're responsible for her. I'll make a small bed for her using the blankets and I'm sure the nurse has child's fever reducer and a thermometer for you." he said and Dakota looked at him. "Thank you, sir. It won't happen again." he apologized and sat down in his seat once Emi was taken care of. "What question did you have about homework?" he asked Clare.
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