#my parents after 5 years finally finding out why i went to see venom twice when it was in the movie theatres godbless

[devotedlystrangewizard]

ok so we have 2 ps5s. because i kept hogging it when my stepmom wanted to play she just bought another one. the one for the kids was eventually moved upstairs, into the room that is now my room. it was in my room for a while. i could safely hide out in my room and do the weirdest shit in bg3 and no one would know unless they deliberately look at my trophy list.

they recently moved the kids ps5 downstairs to the main tv in the living room.

[sailing-ever-west]

WRIT200 Blog Post #5: Spiders

Will this blog one day have a real theme? Who knows? For now, I'll continue simply talking about anything I find interesting. This is Letters From a Not-Quite Lunatic, after all. Maybe by the end I'll achieve full lunatic status and enter my final, most powerful form, but regardless, today is the day I talk about spiders.

I think maybe it all started when I was little, out of a desire to be fearless (or perhaps, the simple recognition that I was fearless about uncommon things, just as the things I did fear were usually odd). My mom and brother were both terrified of spiders, so when my dad was at work (a.k.a. most of the time), it fell to me with my concerning ability to switch off my emotions for a task to be the slayer of these mighty, tiny beasts.

I took pride in my warrior's status for years, only having one or two big scares (wrapping a towel around yourself out of the shower to see a huge wolf spider right on the front of it is not for the faint of heart), but over time I went from apathy to an actual affection for them.

The seed was planted most likely by my nana, who told me she was glad to have spiders around because they were good for her garden, eating all the smaller bugs that preyed on the plants. They were protectors, in that way. Nature's guardians.

I kept this in mind as the years passed, especially as I found myself to be a rather odd and lonely child. What was so offensive, I wondered, about a little creature who traveled alone and ate flies? We don't even have more than two species of venomous ones in my state. I pondered this, as I tended to ponder things. 

My life changed drastically at twelve when my mom had my little sister and we outgrew my childhood home. We moved to the east side of town and bought a house built in the 70s with problems I don't even blame the seller for tiptoeing around. It was my parents' first time buying a home, being just ahead of millennials in being able to do so at all, and it was certainly an experience. 

The house had a finished basement (a somewhat generous term, in hindsight), and I alone slept down there in a room we had to erect a small wall to create. And perhaps it was the eerie backyard pool just outside my ground-level window (by pure coincidence and having been built in the 70s, it was the exact same blueprint as the one they filmed at in season 1 of Stranger Things), or the fact that the stresses of school difficulty and caring for my little sister were beginning to truly wear on me, but I couldn't find it in me to worry very much about my constant roommates, the basement spiders. 

I think I used to kill them at first, but there were so many of them that after a while I got tired of it, and unless they were in or near my bed I began to leave them alone. I would idly watch them crawl along the wall or the floor, and something like compassion for them began to grow in me. We weren't so different, really. Small, lonely things who kept to the shadows and watched as good, social, normal people turned up their noses. As time went by and life changed, another sibling came along and school got harder, we moved again, twice, and I grew only more wracked with anxiety, I began to almost see spiders as a sign of good luck. A small moment of companionship between me and the creature, two otherwise unconnected beings who despite the so-called ways of the world, had no desire to kill each other.

A couple of years ago I even got a plush spider at a gift shop. It looked cute to me, with its big shiny eyes, and it had just the right constitution to squeeze. I named it Paolo, and with the exception of my youngest two siblings my family found it rather horrid. 

"What's with the spider?" a relative asked. "Why would you get something scary for a stuffed animal?"

I pointed out that bears were quite scary too if you actually came across one, but had been the standard stuffed toy for around a century with no complaint. 

"Well, you can at least see the good things about bears," I was told, "like how they care for their young. This is just…creepy and evil."

I didn't say that spiders protected gardens, or often died for their young. I forgot. I was quieted. 

But despite their rampant unpopularity, I still find myself defending the little creatures, perhaps all the more because they're so universally hated. I tend not to trust human vitriol, I suppose. We often aim it at things, or even people, who have committed no sin but inconveniencing us or being a bit too "different" for our personal comfort. 

It does things for the soul, I think, to love a horrible little creature who can give you nothing back. Perhaps, then, there is hope for yourself, too.

[lupinlongbottom]

Burning Bridges pt. 4

Neville Longbottom x Reader

Summary: The halfway mark of the school year had finally come, a milestone in (Y/N)’s journey as a Hogwarts Professor. Winter break was rather uneventful, but at least the joyous idea of a dear friend’s wedding could help them out, right?

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Swearing, just a bit

A/N: AH! Yeah. That’s all I gotta say about this chapter. Wow. Neville and (Y/N) are dumb dumbs, huh?

Part 1 ... Part 2 ... Part 3 ... Part 5 ... Part 6 ... Part 7

__

Snow had finally touched the ground, blanketing the castle in pure white brilliance. Christmas had come and went, winter break finally had come to an end. Students were running around like mad, trying to finish their assignments, papers and the like that were due for their return.

Neville sat in the greenhouse, opting to stay at the castle for the holidays, only leaving a few times to meet with his grandmother and visit his parents. A yearly tradition. He still had to take care of his plants. He hadn’t seen (Y/N) in the few weeks of break, knowing she must’ve gone to visit her mum in Bristol or the like.

“Come on,” Neville purred, his dragon-hide gloves running against the leaves of a moving plant. “I know you’re angry, but please just work with me here,” he sighed, seemingly giving up on the plant.

“Neville?” a voice called from behind the glass of the greenhouse. He looked up, a window had been open. He saw her, (Y/N), standing in the open window. “Nev!” her face twisted into a grin, rushing away from the window and running through the door.

“(Y/N),” Neville smiled, watching the young professor enter his workspace. “Good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the hair completely down, no bow in sight. “Venomous Tentacula,” she stopped, hesitant to get closer to Neville or the plant.

“You remember your plants,” Neville said, adjusting his gloves.

“I had a good tutor,” said (Y/N), sitting on an empty patch of countertop, eyeing the plant carefully.

“You’re bright enough, I’m sure you could’ve gotten it without my help,” said Neville, recalling the various hours he had spent with (Y/N) studying for their N.E.W.T-level Herbology class. Madam Pince grew rather annoyed with their idle chatter in the library, usually not pertaining to Herbology. 

“There were times on the road that I could’ve used your help,” (Y/N) shrugged. “One time, it took me the better part of an hour to tell the difference between normal ivy and poison ivy.” 

“How did you say you landed your last job?” Neville teased, turning back to his tentacula, carefully moving branches. “Seems like it was more suited for a herbologist.”

“At times, sure,” (Y/N) admitted. “I lied in the interview about my herbology skills, you know better than anyone that everything I touch dies,” she laughed, fingers swirling in the excess dirt. “But, I was so desperate to work for such an accomplished potioneer I would’ve done much worse to get the job.”

“You gathered potion ingredients, right?” he asked, waiting for a response. (Y/N) rarely talked about her pervious job before working at Hogwarts. 

“Yeah,” she hummed. “I enjoyed it once I got the hang of it, gathering odd plants, finding rare creatures,” (Y/N) sighed blissfully. “Traveling the world just to find the one ingredient that no witch or wizard had ever thought to use in a potion before,” her eyes lit up like the stars, full of wonder.  

“Did you? Find that one ingredient?” 

She shook her head, smiling sadly. “No, but I got to travel and be on my own for months at a time. It was terribly therapeutic.”

“Wasn’t it lonely?” Neville asked, trimming excess leafs off of the plant. “Being alone for that time?” 

“Of course, I’m not an animal,” (Y/N) said, swinging her legs back and forth like a child. “I had Edgar, though. He’s been by my side since fourth year, he’s the person who knows me best.”

“He’s an owl,” Neville stated, giving (Y/N) a pointed look.

“I’m convinced he’s my soulmate,” (Y/N) quipped, pursing her lips gently. “He knows just how to cheer me up when I’m down.”

“Send me an invite when the two of you get married,” Neville laughed, decidedly finished with the plant. “Speaking of…” he paused. “I know you’re planning on going to Harry and Ginny’s wedding, I-I am too, so I was wondering—”

“Oh right! Gin and Harry’s wedding!” (Y/N) ran a hand through her hair, a habit she recently picked up. “I nearly forgot!”

Neville felt relieved to hear her slip of the mind. Why did he feel so relieved? “It’s next week,” he laughed.

“Damn, I knew I was forgetting something all break. I told my mum about this nagging feeling I had in the back of my mind when I was visiting her, but she said it was just ‘professor brain’, whatever that is,” she chuckled. “Lance tried to convince me that she was right, but I disagree.”

“Lance?” 

“Oh!” (Y/N) looked up at Neville. “I totally forgot to tell you! I listened to your advice.”

“Advice?”

“Yeah, when we had tea for the first time? You told me ask out Professor Knight,” (Y/N) smirked. “We’ve been seeing each other more over break.”

“Oh,” Neville mumbled, carefully prying his gloves off.

“He’s rather sweet, a charming guy. I thought he’d be a right prick,” (Y/N) shrugged. “He’s terribly interesting to talk to, about muggle things and teaching. He’s shown me a lot of the castle that even in seven years of schooling I couldn’t have seen.”

“So you’re happy?”

“Mostly,” (Y/N) smiled. “I don’t know how much longer we’re going to be seeing each other, though. He’s a bit full of himself, but it’s been a bit of cheeky fun for the break.”

“I’m assuming he’s going with you to the wedding?” Neville tensed himself, preparing for a blow he’d have to take time to recover from.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) nodded, rolling her eyes. “ I invited him only because I didn’t want to show up stag. He’s been fun and all, I just don’t know how interested in me he is. If the wedding wasn’t next week, I would’ve cancelled my date,” she shrugged. “But, Ginny said she can’t wait to meet the man with the ridiculous name I’ve told her about.”

“Yeah, that would reflect badly on your end,” Neville mumbled, gathering the spare greenery to his right, ignoring practically everything (Y/N) just shared. “Did you need some tentacula leaves? This one got a bit overgrown and I know how expensive and sought after they can be.”

“Get out!” (Y/N) grinned, pulling a spare vial from her boot. “Of course! I only ever had them once or twice before, I’m petrified to get any closer to those plants ever since sixth year.”

“Yeah,” Neville hummed, recalling their lesson on the venomous plant years ago. (Y/N) had nearly had a trip to the hospital wing that day, if not for Neville reigning the plant in. “You just keep an extra vial on you at all times?” he asked, pointing to the boot.

“Slughorn said any good potioneer kept an extra vial or two on them for moments like these,” she smiled, carefully placing the small leaves into the container. “I enchanted my boots for my last job so I could keep my bag light,” she reached down, fishing in her right boot, pulling out her wand, waving it lightly as if to prove a point. “It’s also great for keeping my snacks away from Edgar.”

“Always the clever witch,” Neville smiled, watching (Y/N) shove the bottle back in her boot, her hair falling into her face. “Say, where’s your ribbon? It’s weird to see you without one.”

“Oh,” (Y/N)’s hand flew to her hair, suddenly embarrassed. “Lance told me he liked my hair better when it was down, so I’ve been trying it out.”

“Are you sure it isn’t because you both had the same hairstyle?” Neville joked, recalling the terribly long hair that Professor Knight possessed. 

“Shove it,” (Y/N) laughed, pushing Neville slightly. “I wouldn’t put it past him, though. He’s terribly vain.” 

“If it’s any consolation, I liked the ribbons,” Neville admitted, glancing down at the wooden floorboards. “Could see your face better.”

“I like the ribbons too,” (Y/N) said, feeling a faint heat trace her cheeks. “Say, want to see what else I keep in my boots?” (Y/N) quickly changing the subject. “I’ll keep my stinky socks away from your face… mostly.”

“Charming,” He agreed, watching (Y/N) struggle with her laces. As she focused intently on her brown boot, Neville noted the pink scrap of fabric he had left next to the tentacula plant. Quickly shoving it in his pocket, he coughed. “Go on, let’s see.”

__

Vibrant reds and golds streaked from the ceilings, Gryffindor colors. Entirely Harry’s idea. The reception hall was bustling with the quaint familiarities of old friends, some who hadn’t seen each other after the war was said and done. Half of the hall had red hair, the obvious mark of the Weasley family.  

“I’m glad you made it, even though a little bird told me you had nearly forgotten,” Ginny laughed, elbowing (Y/N) in the arm. She looked stunning in an off-white wedding gown, a perfect dress for a perfect day. The ceremony had gone off without a hitch, minus a few rogue spells to deter the journalists from sneaking in.

“Longbottom told you?” (Y/N) groaned, pulling a face. “Of course he did.”

“Relax, (L/N),” Ginny laughed, carefully holding her champagne glass, afraid to spill. “He was only teasing you. It’s good to hear you two are back in each other’s good graces.”

“It wasn’t easy,” (Y/N) shrugged, recalling her sour attitude towards the Gryffindor, regretting it immensely. “But I’m glad we reconnected. I missed him,” her gaze met the sight of two little girls, both dressed in dark red dresses, playing with one another. “Your nieces are adorable.”

“Aren’t they?” Ginny turned to look at the girls, one blonde and one redheaded. “They’re both angels, thankfully they haven’t got much of my brother’s looks. I reckon it’s all from their wives,” she laughed. “Victoire is practically a Phlegm clone, blonde hair and all. Kayda has most of Charlie’s traits, beautiful brown eyes, but her face is like her mum’s.”

“She’s also terribly dragon-obsessed, like her dad,” Harry said, pulling an arm around his wife. He kissed her temple lightly. “She’s my favorite of the nieces, always asking the difficult questions, not a care in the world.”

“Harry!” Ginny slapped his chest, watching his smirk dwindle.

“Haven’t changed, have you Potter?” (Y/N) grinned, mouthing a ‘hello’ to the groom. He mouthed back, rubbing circles to Ginny’s shoulder.

“So this is Harry Potter,” said Lance, entering the conversation, holding two glasses of champagne. He pressed a peck to (Y/N)’s cheek, handing her a flute. “For my princess of potions.”

(Y/N) grimaced at the nickname, accepting the kiss and the drink. “Lance, I don’t think you’ve met the happy couple. This is Harry and Ginny Potter,” The couple swelled at the mention of their married name. “Gin, Harry, this is—”  

“Lancelot Knight, Professor of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” he bowed, the purple of his cape nearly hitting (Y/N) in the face. “Congratulations on your happiest of days.”

“Thank you, Lancelot,” Ginny forced a smile, sending a short look of confusion to (Y/N), almost disapprovingly. “We have some photos we need to go take,” Ginny pulled Harry to the side. “Enjoy the food and drinks. Try to find me later, (Y/N),” The couple walked off, murmuring rapidly between one another.

“He seemed unlike anything I’ve read about him,” Lance huffed, drowning his words in the champagne. “You’re not going to drink, darling?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No,” she handed him the glass, watching him down it in two gulps. She noticed a nearly empty table with only one guest sitting. His hair was gelled back, nearly perfect. Too much gel. “I might go and have a seat, I’m feeling a little woozy.”

“While you waste your night,” Lance pulled his robe back, opening his body up to the crowd before him. “It’s time for me to network. When else can I get all of these famous witches and wizards in one place?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, finding herself at the aforementioned empty table. “Anyone sitting here?”

Neville looked up, he was intently focusing on the silverware before him. “No, I guess not,” he smiled, allowing (Y/N) to sit. “Your boyfriend seems to be having a good time, chatting up all our friends.”

“He’s getting on my last nerve,” (Y/N) groaned, holding her head in her hands. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was just here to boast about himself to strangers with more distinguished accomplishments,” another groan. “He’s also not my boyfriend.”

“No? You seemed rather close,” Neville shrugged, watching the long haired wizard try to woo Molly Weasley. She turned away. “Trouble in paradise?”

“I had my suspicions before, but today is the nail in the coffin. I can’t believe I thought it was a good idea to bring him to the wedding.”

“You’re going to break up with him?”

“Can’t break up with someone if you never were together in the first place,” (Y/N) pointed. “But, yeah. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Did you want to talk about it?” Neville asked, offering to listen.

“Not really,” (Y/N) admitted, letting her head rise. “But I would fancy a walk if you wanted to get some air?”

“Please,” Neville laughed. “I love Harry and Ginny, but parties like this are just not my style.”

“Tell me about it,” (Y/N) sighed, rising from her seat. Neville followed suit, exiting the banquet hall. “I would rather be cooped up in my office, alone with my cauldron. Not a care in the world.”

“You do tend to do that a bit,” Neville said, putting his hands in his pockets. “Are you working on anything new?” The courtyard outside of the banquet hall had a fresh dusting of snow, allowing the two to leave footprints behind.

“Still working on that batch of Felix Felicis,” she shrugged. “It’s probably the most complicated potion I’ve brewed. So fickle, needs constant attention,” (Y/N) kicked a small pebble. “I’ve also been working on my own potions, trying to make a name for myself as a potioneer, but I can’t quite figure any of it out.”

“Come on,” Neville scoffed. “You’ll be able to do it, I know you can,” he brushed the dusting of snow off of the bench, allowing for the two to sit. “Besides, even if you don’t, being Potions Master at Hogwarts is like, the highest honor a potioneer can have, yeah?”

“I suppose,” (Y/N) said, smoothing her dress skirt, ignoring the flush rising to her face. “It’s just so terribly difficult to make a name for myself when my predecessors are so… amazing. Horace Slughorn? Severus Snape?”

“Give it time,” Neville put a hand to her shoulder. “You need to remember that most potioneers didn’t have the pleasure to be taught by one of them, let alone both of them. You’re brighter than you know.”

“Wow,” (Y/N) sat, stunned by her friend’s words. “I guess I never thought about it like that.”

“Besides, Slughorn made you a part of the Slug Club sixth year, an elite gathering of the brightest and best students at Hogwarts,” he laughed. “The same club that hosted Harry Potter, the famed wizard.”

“He was collecting future favors, Nev,” (Y/N) smiled, recalling the club’s meetings. Lavish dinners, exquisite music. “He also kicked you out of the club for ‘not meeting his expectations’, which is hogwash,” she breathed deeply, her breath dancing away from her lips. “He just didn’t see what really matters.”

“You think?” Neville turned to look at (Y/N), now staring up at the stars. She nodded.

“Slughorn is terribly superficial, not really looking past the surface traits,” (Y/N) sat on her hands, trying to warm them up. “You know, he nearly threw a hissy-fit when I invited you to his Christmas party.”

“He did?” Neville asked, focusing on the constellations above them.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I would’ve loved to see you in that servers uniform,” (Y/N) laughed unashamed. “All distinguished and whatnot. Slughorn practically ignored me for almost two weeks after the party, like he disowned me as a student.” 

“I remember that,” Neville recalled. “Whenever you had your hand up, he called on Hermione or Harry instead, even if they didn’t have the slightest clue on the answer. I never knew it was because of that…”

“It happens,” (Y/N) ran a hand through her hair, annoyed by the way it was falling. “I swear, I should’ve brought an extra ribbon…”

“Maybe you can steal one from Lancelot,” Neville laughed, turning his attention over to the witch to his right. He coughed. “But, if you need one…” he dug into his pocket, fingers finding the silky patch of fabric he had been searching for.

(Y/N) glanced down, eyes finding the pink ribbon between his fingers. It wasn’t clean, dirt dusting the torn edges. It brought a sense of familiarity, almost as if she’d seen it before. “Where’d you get that?”

“I’ve been waiting for a good time to return it,” Neville said, holding it out to her. “Been carrying it around for five years.” 

“How did you…?”

“Happened to be at the right place at the right time,” Neville offered her the ribbon again, (Y/N) taking it gently in her hands. “You should wear your hair however you want, by the way, not just to please some bloke.”

“You’ve kept it?” (Y/N) asked, rubbing the silk with her thumb. It had to be the one she had lost during the battle. Why else would it be so dirty, so worn? “Why?”

“I mean, you’ve kept my jumper for seven years,” Neville laughed. “I could ask you the same question.”

“What?”

“My grey cardigan? From that day in Potions? I saw it on your dresser.”

“You went through my things?” (Y/N) asked, tone rising. “That’s a terrible invasion of privacy, Neville!”

“Invasion?” Neville said, matching her tone. “It was sitting next to that Honeydukes box, not exactly hidden from sight.”

(Y/N) stood up, now facing the Gryffindor fully. “Did you rifle through that too?” Her tone turned worried, only slightly. “Couldn’t help but snoop?”

“I didn’t snoop,” Neville responded, holding his hands in front of his chest, as if protecting himself. “Honest. You had it laying out—”

“—and you took a closer look at it!?”

“I’m not the one who kept something that wasn’t theirs for seven years,” Neville stood up, tired of being yelled at. “At least I was planning on giving the ribbon back!”

“You gave it to me,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You said I could keep it—”

“—and I don’t regret it! I’m not accusing you of anything, (Y/N). You’re the one making a big deal out of this.”

“I’m making a big deal of this? Really?” (Y/N) pressed a finger to his chest. “You’re the one making a big deal of it, bringing up why I kept a gift? You kept a bloody ribbon of mine for no reason!”

“No reason?” Neville looked down at the finger on his chest, pushing it away. “I wanted to return it, but you ran off before I could. I didn’t see you for five years after-after—”

“—after what, Neville? Go on, spit it out,” (Y/N) crossed her arms, tipping her weight onto her left side.

“After you kissed me!” Neville practically screamed. “You kissed me and just… you just ran off,” his voice lowered, just for a moment. The wind died down, leaving a silence around the two.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” (Y/N) said coldly. “It was a mistake and I realized that the second I looked at you after the fact,” her face hardened, expression unmoving.

“Looked at me? You barely gave it a second before you ran off,” Neville replied, racking his memory. “You didn’t even think about what I could’ve been feeling in that moment, you just cared about yourself!”

“Here we go,” (Y/N) sighed. “It’s always about me, right? Sorry I ran off when my dad just died!”

“Can you shut it about your dad for five minutes?!” Neville didn’t mean to roar, the sound reverberating from the courtyard. Thankfully the party was still in full swing, the loud music echoing from the banquet hall. “Stop acting like you didn’t talk to me for five years was because of your dad! Yeah, he died. I’m sorry about that,” Neville found a moment of peace, clarity. “But you have to understand where my mind was at,” he sighed. “That was my first kiss, you know? You just ran off.”

(Y/N)’s face softened. “I didn’t know…”

“No, you didn’t,” Neville felt his hand run through his hair, covering it in a thin layer of gel. He had used too much. “I was royally crushed. My best mate kissed me and just ran off, never to be seen or heard from again. I tried to find you after, I did. I wanted to talk, but no one knew where you went."

“I went to the lake,” (Y/N) admitted. “Process my thoughts. My mum told me about my dad and I didn’t know what else to do,” she shrugged, rubbing her arms, now growing cold. “I finally went to go talk to you, but you were sitting with her, Luna. You looked happy, Nev. Happier than I had ever seen you,” tears pricked (Y/N)’s eyes, threatening to fall. “I knew that going to talk would mess that up for you, threaten that happiness you so desperately deserved. I did what I thought was best and just… left.”

“I was happy,” Neville admitted. “A war we had no option to be fighting in was over, for good. Damnit, (Y/N) of course I was happy.”

“I’m glad—”

“—but that’s just the thing, isn’t it? You did what you thought was best. Luna was my friend, she was there for me, she listened. You ran off at the first sign of danger, afraid of your feelings,” Neville seethed. “A terrible habit of yours, really.”

“So you’re not afraid of your feelings? That’s rich.”

“Of course I am, but I’ve learned to listen,” Neville said, feeling his back straighten. “Luna taught me that.”

“I bet she did,” (Y/N) hummed, hardly pleased with the mention of the Ravenclaw’s name. 

“She taught me a lot, (Y/N). I never regretted my relationship with Luna, she helped me realize what I needed in my life,” Neville said, digging deep in his throat to find the words.

“What you needed? Tell me, Neville, what did you need that Luna couldn’t give you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he flung his hand out, as if to prove a point. “I needed you, (Y/N).”

Silence.

(Y/N) couldn’t bring herself to look up from her shoes, couldn’t bring herself to look at her best mate, wearing his heart on his sleeve. “Past tense?” she mumbled, knowing that Neville couldn’t hear her. A part of her hoped he did.

“I thought it was, too,” Neville admitted, hearing every word. “Past tense, that is. But after seeing that you kept my cardigan, a foolish part of me thought that maybe, just maybe, you felt that way about be at some point. Hell, maybe you felt that way now…” (Y/N)’s expression was unchanged, still looking at her shoes. “But you started dating that-that prick—”

“Who told me to go for it!?” (Y/N) finally shouted, tears dripping from her face, voice dripping with venom. “You’re the one who told me to ask him out, so I did. You told me to go through with taking him to the wedding, so I did—”

“You didn’t have to listen!”

“Would you stop shouting at me?!” (Y/N) shouted, almost ironically.

“Bloody hell, here I am, trying to tell you that I love you and all you can do is ask me to stop shouting!? Honestly, (Y/N), sometimes you really surprise me—”

It was then a familiar feeling danced across his lips, forcibly and fast, effectively shutting him up. The same feeling from five years ago.

She kissed him.

__

General Tag List: @maralisa124 , @leighxlover , @hey-its-me-rai , @missihart23 , @biatheintrovert , @chocolaterumble, @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy , @steve-thotgers

Neville Longbottom Tag List: @readerbandit​

[tiggys-bitch]

Chapter Fifteen - The Flashback.

hey angels, sorry we haven’t uploaded in ages!! But we’re here now and that’s what matters.

We just want to say thankyou so much for all of the love and support, it means the world to us! <3 @papa-chibs

This chappy is a flashback so you can see how different Rissa and Roxxie’s lives were before they found refuge in Charming, we really hope you like it!

Also Rissa and Roxxie’s flashbacks are from different times. That’s why there will be a big age gap between them. 

From now on we’re going to do trigger warnings as our fanfic can get really dark and dirty and we don’t want to upset anyone.

tagging list: @ceceliamarie-85 @isayweallgetdrunk @hissom1933 @guiltyissues @cantmakeupmymindnow

TRIGGER WARNING: physical, sexual and domestic abuse, misscarriage, self harm, murder, blood.

Xoxo

Lassie and Babydoll.

Rissa hadn't stop thinking about Elliot since she rang him, she couldn't believe she had been so naive and stupid! And not to mention still a little bit in love with him... No matter how many times he said he loved and cared for her, Rissa knew it was always a lie. How could you treat someone you love so horribly?

-FLASH BACK -

24 year old Rissa paced around her big, prestige and classy home, waiting for her fiance to return from work. She had been waiting 4 hours already and the time on the clock said 3am. But she couldn't sleep, she was too excited! You see, Rissa had some amazing news for her fiance... Rissa smiled down at the object in her hands. It was a pink and white paddle-shaped stick.  A pregnancy test. On the test was a little screen which showed two opaque lines which meant only one thing. She was pregnant! Her and Elliot had always dreamed about having kids. With the pair of them being older children in their family, they wanted to have so many babies. Rissa looked up at the clock and sighed. Elliot had promised her that he'd be home no later than 12am, but that was 3 hours ago. Rissa decided to distract herself from waiting impatiently so she decided to clean the house, make dinner and wash their laundry.

The door finally opened at 4.39am. Rissa shot up from the seat at the dining table and grinned at her fiance as he locked the door and took off his jacket. She couldn't wait to tell him the good news! She had it all planned out, she'd run into his arms and kiss him and then take him into the lounge where she'd pass him the test. But things didn't go to plan... "Why are you still up?" Elliot growled, annoyance clear in his voice. He walked past the brunette and into the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge. Rissa gulped nervously. He stunk of alcohol and weed, and he was obviously not in a good mood. But maybe his mood will change when she tells him? "Hi baby, I missed you." Rissa said sweetly, joining him in the kitchen. She held the pregnancy test behind her back so he couldn't see it. "Are you stupid? I asked you a question." Elliot looked at her as he spat his words out like venom, his eyes were bloodshot and angry. Elliot had had a terrible night at work which meant that when he came home, he'd often take his anger out on Rissa. Rissa noticed blood splatters on his shirt and gasped."Elliot... Are you hurt?!" She exclaimed, frantically checking him for injuries but she didn't find any... The blood wasn't his. Elliot blew his top, scaring his fiance to the point of tears. She'd never seen him this furious before... "Answer my fucking question! WHY ARE YOU AWAKE?" The girl trembled with fear as Elliot walked over to her. She'd seen him mad when he had hit her but never like this.. It was a totally new kind of anger. "I erm.. Was waiting for you, I cooked for us." She reached a hand out to him carefully. "Now please tell me if you are hurt? You have blood on your shirt?" Her prying made Elliot even more enraged. He let out a huge growl before pushing her away from him, he sent her flying across their foyer. Rissa's stomach collided with the edge of a small table making her cry out in pain and the pregnancy test fall from her hands. "Oh I didn't push you that hard, stop being so dramatic." Elliot's voice now held a sinister humour to it. He rolled his eyes at the woman sobbing on the wooden floor. And then Elliot noticed the pregnancy test on the floor. He rushed over to pick up the stick, quickly examining it. Positive. The man's angry facade faded into shock, regret and guilt. If you thought things couldn't get any worse... You were wrong. Rissa let out a shriek when seeing a puddle of red liquid form in between her legs. "Baby...Baby I'm so sorry" Elliot crouched down beside her, wrapping his arms around her frail body. Rissa pushed him away and curled up into a ball on the floor. "Call an ambulance." She whispered, clutching her stomach as she watched puddle of blood grow. Elliot felt tears form in his eyes. "Clarissa please, I didn't know. You know I wouldn't have done that if I did.." His voice was soft, but that didn't fool Rissa. He would've. There was nothing her fiance wasn't capable of. "My sweet baby..." Rissa sobbed, rubbing her stomach. "Mommy loves you.." And then her eyes faded to black. 

--

After spending her night being groped, fucked and hit on by men, 19 year old Roxxie was so happy to be back home. That's how bad it was working in Elliot's secret club Ecstasy, she would much rather prefer staying home with her abusive foster family. Roxxie shoved her rucksack full of money, drugs, alcohol, makeup and lingerie under her bed before going for a shower to wash off the sins. Roxxie had been stripping and selling her body at the illegal club owned by her bestfriend's psychopathic fiance for about 2 years now. Somehow she managed to keep her business with Elliot a secret this whole time without anyone except the two of them knowing. The teen had a love/hate relationship with working as a stripper. She liked the attention, loved to dance and show off her body, and the way that it made her feel. She felt powerful, confident and sexy. But then there were times where she'd get thrown around by men more than twice her age, be forced into doing things she didn't want to do, get STIs and STDs. And then the feelings of embarrassment, disgust and depression would kick in. Roxxie wished that she would be able to live a 'normal' life, but she knew that that would never happen. She was born into a fucked up family and then forced to join another. Being normal was out of the question.

Once Roxxie had finished drowning her sorrows, she came back into her bedroom to finally get some sleep. Well that was the plan, but obviously things just had to go wrong. "Where have you been?" A voice asked as Roxxie entered the room. Roxxie gasped when seeing her foster-brother William sat on her bed. Roxxie gulped, gripping her towel tight in her fists. William was ridiculously sketchy. She hated living with him. Well she hated living with all of the foster-family, they were all creepy and abusive as hell. "Where have you been?" William repeated, much fiercer than before. "You think i haven't noticed you sneaking in and out at night?" He stood up from the bed and walked over to his sister slowly. The girl felt her pulse begin to race as her anxiety overcame her. "I.. I just went to a friend's." She stuttered, fear clear in her voice. William scoffed. "Sure. A 'friend's'." He smirked, crouching down and pulling out her rucksack full of her work essentials. Roxxie's eyes widened and she bit down on her lip. "What do we have in here, huh?" William said as he emptied the bag out onto her bed. He picked up a wad of dollars and chuckled. "Damn, that's gotta be at least $500.." He muttered, shoving it into his pocket. "Gonna treat myself to a new laptop i think.." Roxxie watched the male, her body shaking ever so slightly. All she wanted to do was punch him and gather her things and run away. But the Jameson family weren't the kind of people you messed with. Roxxie learned that as soon as she first moved in with them. William lifted up a lace thong and bra and turned to the red head. He raised an eyebrow and smiled the most creepy smile she'd ever seen. "I bet you look real good in this.." He licked his lips, staring straight into her eyes. "How 'bout you put it on for me?" He asked, holding out the lingerie to her. Roxxie's breath hitched in her throat, why couldn't she have hid her bag better? The male knew how nervous Roxxie was, which just made him even more amused. He knew she wouldn't dare to fight back. "Or, i guess i'll wake up mom and dad and tell them all about your little late night adventures?" Roxxie had no choice. It was either, do whatever William wanted or have her foster-parents find out about her secret life and have them treat her even worse than they already did. What else could she do? Did she want to deal with the 3 of them ganging up on her? Or just William? "If i do this.." Roxxie inhaled deeply, taking the lingerie out of his hands. "You promise me they won't find out? Ever?" She gulped, looking up at the male who was smiling like a serial killer. "I promise." William replied, sitting back down on the bed. He took off his shirt and then began to unbuckle his belt. Roxxie squeezed her eyes shut and let the towel drop to the floor. She wished that this was all just a dream and she'd wake up and be back home in Charming with her real family. But when she reopened her eyes, William was still there in her room, half naked and waiting impatiently. "You want it the easy way? Or the hard way? Because i'm down with either." William snapped at the girl, making her jump a little. If selling her body at work wasn't enough, now she was having to do it at home. -- 5 years later. 24 year old Roxxie was stood in front of the mirror staring at her half-naked body through teary eyes. She was covered in fresh cuts and bruises. The bruises were from being manhandled at work but the cuts... The cuts were done by herself, deliberately. Roxxie was in the middle of dolling herself up to sneak out to work. She did have only an hour to get ready, but she had already used up 20 minutes of it crying. It was her biological and deceased mother's birthday today. Her foster family either didn't know, or just didn't care. She was left to deal with her emotions alone, all day. And now she was having to go sell her body to sleazy and disgusting men. It was fair to say that Roxxie was feeling pretty broken. The door to the bathroom swung open and in walked her foster-brother William. He shut and locked the door quickly before grabbing Roxxie and pushing her against the wall. "I've been thinking about you allllll day." William whispered, his hungry eyes locked on Roxxie's. "Not tonight." Roxxie's voice was stern and serious. William let out a low chuckle. "Who the fuck said you were in charge? We have a deal." He snapped at the girl. "Now, shut the fuck up or i'm going to make you." "Besides, don't you wanna blow off some steam? Ain't it ya junkie mom's birthday?" William knew exactly what to say to push her buttons. He was an expert manipulater. Roxxie felt the anger rise up in her but she tried her hardest to keep calm. "I'm sure she would want you to have some fun? She was all about havin' fun weren't she?" William smirked. "Maybe too much fun.. Y'know, since it killed her." The girl lunged at the male, punching him right in his nose. There was no way she was going to let that bastard talk about her mother like that! William wiped his bloody nose and chuckled. "Do it again. I dare you." Roxxie gritted her teeth and swung at him once more, but in swift movements he blocked her fist and sent his flying at her instead. The force from the punch knocked Roxxie to the ground with a bang. She hit her head hard against the floor, making her black out for a few seconds. When her eyes reopened she saw William climbing on top of her. Roxxie tried her hardest to fight him but he was so strong and heavy! She was like a rag doll compared to him. Her heart raced as she punched and kicked the man who was crushing her body against the cold bathroom floor. It was getting hard for her to breathe which made her even weaker. But then, she remembered she'd brought her bag into the bathroom with her. And there was something inside her bag that would easily overpower him. She outstretched her arm trying to grab her rucksack that was only inches away. She grunted and groaned, still trying to fight him as well as straining to reach her bag. William was already half-naked which meant that Roxxie was running out of time. But then, as if all of her prayers were answered, she managed to wriggle a little and finally was able to get her hands on the bag. Roxxie rummaged through the slinky lingerie, bottles of alcohol and baggies of drugs before grabbing hold of something solid. And without wasting another second, she yanked out a gun and put it against William's head. The man froze, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open. Tears were pouring down Roxxie's face as she held the gun in shaky hands. "Get off.. Or i will shoot you." Roxxie stuttered, but the power was in her hands, literally. William nodded slowly, before climbing off of the girl's frail body. Roxxie kept the gun pointed at him the whole time as he moved steadily away from her. Roxxie also started to get up from the floor, ready to make a runner, but she slipped. Roxxie was caught off guard for only a few seconds, in which William saw an opportunity. The next thing Roxxie knew was, William lunged at her and then a huge bang echoed throughout the house. The gun fell out of the girl's hands and she jumped up from the floor instantly. She'd just shot William. Blood gushed out of the hole in the man's head. The hole that Roxxie had put in him. Her ears rang from being that close when the gun went off. Suddenly the sound of footsteps along with shouting and banging broke Roxxie out of her thoughts. Her foster-parents were banging on the bathroom door, screaming and shouting. Roxxie rushed around the room frantically gathering her things and putting them in her bag before opening the bathroom window. She needed to get the hell out of there before they found her! The girl threw her bag out of the window and got ready to climb out, but then she remembered the gun was still on the floor beside William's motionless and limp body. She looked over her shoulder to see that the gun was now in a puddle of William's blood. She quickly grabbed it and shoved it in her bra before climbing out of the window and onto the roof of the livingroom. Once Roxxie was out of the house, she took off, there was no chance she was going to wait around. Her sobbing covered up the screaming coming from the house. They must've gotten into the bathroom and seen their son. Roxxie brought out her phone and called the one person who'd be able to help her out. The person who played a part in this mess. "Sup, princess? Hope you're not calling to tell me you can't make it to work." A male voice spoke. Roxxie panted and cried down the phone. "Elliot, I fucked up... I really fucked up." "What do you mean? What did you do?" "I.. I just killed my foster-brother."