#Duncan did ask me what I was thinking about and I got to deliver a couple Diva's Lament lines deadpan

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: January 14

"Diva's Lament (Whatever Happened to My Part)" from Monty Python's Spamalot

[gaytotaldrama]

duncney week day 6: protectiveness

TD fangirls can be really, really annoying.

duncney song of the day: 'help me,' joni mitchell

also on my ao3!

The audience favorite for the cast of Total Drama is Owen, but, hey, Duncan's still pretty far up there. Of course, while Owen's popularity lies more typically with male viewers and young kids, a lot of Duncan's lies with the ladies. 

And can you blame them, really? No one else in the cast is cool enough to own piercings and a mohawk. He made it past the team merge in both seasons, placing no lower than fourth each time. And he's punk, which Courtney claims is a reason he's not attractive (but she is so, so lying). Naturally, the chicks (and a good amount of dudes, too) are gonna be all over him.

Still, though. As great as all the attention can be, they're really just trying to eat lunch at their usual outdoor café right now.

"OMG, he's even hotter in person!" one of the two girls exclaims, whipping out her phone for a photo op. "Did you get more piercings?! It looks like you got more piercings!!"

"Sorry, girls," he says casually, holding up a rock on sign for the camera. "Same amount of metal in my body as usual."

"Yes, and if you don't mind," sniffs Courtney irritably. "We're in the middle of a meal."

"Well, it's not like we're here for you," the second girl says loudly. "Does Duncan even want to be here right now? Or are you forcing him into dating you, as usual?"

"Excuse me?" Courtney launches to her feet, leaning in close enough to the second girl that her face reflects back in the girl's glasses. "I don't force him into anything! But at least I actually have a boyfriend, instead of going around trying to steal someone else's!"

"Whoa, whoa, all right," Duncan says, spreading his hands placatingly. "Let's all just take it down a notch, eh?"

Courtney snaps her glaring gaze to him. "Not. Helping."

The first girl snickers then, and mutters to her friend with a smirk on her face, "Psycho bitch."

Suddenly, it's not so funny anymore. Blood roaring in his ears, Duncan stands, delivering his retort before Courtney's even finished stewing about it. 

"No one," he says, jabbing a threatening finger at the two girls, glaring as violently as he can. "Calls Courtney a psycho bitch except for me."

One of them scoffs. "So you admit she's crazy? Why waste your time on her at all?" She grins, twisted. "Don't you think Gwen is so much more your style?"

"I think," says Duncan, steady as he can muster (so still at a respectable amount of venom). "That you should both leave."

An eye roll. "Fine, whatever. Can we get another selfie first?"

"Didn't you hear him?" Courtney snaps. "Piss off!"

They go, whispering to each other conspiratorially and throwing glances behind their shoulders.

"God, you're fucking amazing," Duncan tells her, shoulders beginning to loosen again. He scrubs a tired hand down his face. "What the fuck was even that."

When she doesn't respond, he looks up at her, quirking his eyebrow. "Uh, got something you want to share with the class, sweetheart?"

"You liked them fawning all over you! Don't deny it!" Courtney accuses.

Duncan rolls his eyes. "Come on, don't you kinda like the attention just a little bit sometimes? It's not like I was even remotely interested in either of them. As soon as they called you a bitch, it was a done deal. We told 'em to fuck off, and they did. Problem solved."

Courtney's eyes are at least a little less narrow now. "And you're not into Gwen, right?"

"Are you kidding me?" Duncan grins, shaking his head. "I'm offended you'd even ask, babe."

"...Ok." She deflates out of interrogation mode. "Sorry. I just get stressed out by all the...everything really easily."

"I get it." Duncan holds up his hand, flags down their waiter. "What do you say we take these to-go and finish them back at home?"

"Sounds good."

"You know," says Duncan, unable to stop himself from smiling. "You were so totally jealous back there."

To his delight, she pinkens almost instantly. "I was not. In your dreams."

"You're always in my dreams, Princess."

An even deeper flush. "You're so...Whatever. Let's get out of here." Her lips quirk up at the corners, twitching. "Besides. You'd lose it completely if another guy started flirting with me."

"Oh, is that what you think?" he asks her.

"That's what I know." The waiter returns the card, handing it to Courtney. "Thank you," she says. "You're always such a great waiter. Your arms and legs are so toned."

A grin spreads across the man's face. "Thank you, ma'am. You're very beautiful yourself."

Courtney giggles. The waiter leaves. 

"What the fuck," Duncan says through gritted teeth, hands bunched in the tablecloth. "Was that?"

Seriously. He could kill that guy right now, prison sentence be damned. 

But Courtney just smiles, the bitch, and says, "Simply a little social experiment. Let's go, hon."

[thewholecrew]

nate was getting used to his job here at the nightclub, filling in where was needed and making friendly conversation while he did it. tonight was busy meaning so was he as he bussed the tables in constant use, delivered drinks and cleaned up the endless messes. it wasn't the most glamourous job but it beat what he used to do to survive before meeting duncan. at least he was earning money, he could eat the left overs at the end of the night, make friends. with grant gone and nick and octavia gone with them he didn't see many familiar faces here anymore aside from bellamy and rev but even then it was pretty rare.

tonight though, he spotted kassy and brows lifted, a smile curling on his face as she danced with a group he didn't know. he had wondered what happened to her but he was glad to see she seemed to be enjoying herself. the night went on and he got pulled in every other direction, losing sight of her for a while until a few hours later. it was pretty late now and not nearly as busy so he took the moment to go over and say hi. he wasn't completely sure what her and nick's relationship had been but from the looks of her with her arms around a woman and dancing backed up against a man he wasn't so sure it was anything serious.

"kassy," he greeted with a warm grin though it faltered a little as her dark glazed eyes tried to focus on his. "it's me, nate," he added as she broke away from the pair that had been seemily holding her upright. "nathaniel," she slurred in a sing song tone, her arms wrapping around his neck as she leaned her weight against his chest. he staggered a little as he caught her, brows lifting to the sky. "whoa, kassy, you uh having a good time?" he asked with a chuckle as he steadied her, hands innocently on her waist. she smiled her cheshire smile at him but it didn't touch her eyes, "why wouldn't i be?" lips parted but nathan hesitated, wincing a little because he knew better than to bring up what she was probably here trying to forget.

"no reason," he laughed a little nervously as her fingers crept up into his hair and had goosebumps spread across his skin, "you just look like you're having fun," he looked at her sheepishly as her head lulled to the side, dark eyes watching him. "mmmhm, i am," she agreed though he wasn't so sure he believed it, wasn't sure she believed it. the couple she'd been dancing with then tugged at her arms. c'mon kassy, this guy doesn't have what you want, the man murmured and nate could have sworn he saw hurt flash in her eyes as she pulled away. "no, you're right," she said in an alarming sobered voice. the girl linked arms with her as she pulled out a little baggy from her bra, c'mon, she urged with a smile as kassy turned to her, hands going to cup her face. "that will make me feel better," she purred before leaning in to whisper in the girls ear making her blush pretty pink.

concern leaked into nate's green eyes as she waved to him and headed off with the two towards the stairs. glancing around the nightclub, he got a bad feeling about what she was doing. where was her little short friend? not octavia, he knew she was gone, but the guy, what was his name... lips pursed when he felt a tug at his shirt, turning to his surprise to the boy he had just been thinking of. "oh, hey....!" he grinned, trailing off because he forgot his name. "alec," he responded though he looked from nate to around the club nervously. "alec! right! you here with kassy?" he asked and the boy shook his head, "no, i came to find her..."

nate blinked, brows furrowing as he glanced back in the direction she went before back to alec. "uh.. she was just here, she went... there, see her," he pointed over the crowd towards the top of the stairs. "you know the people she's with?" he asked and alec searched, rising on his toes to try and see over the crowd before shaking his head. "no," he answered with concern in his big blue eyes. "shit, uh, you want me to go with you to get her? she's pretty drunk... might also be on something.." he explained with a scratch to the back of his neck. alec chewed worringly at his lip as he nodded despite knowing that kassy probably wouldn't appreciate him dragging nathan into this.

alec began to try and make his way through the crowd but with his size and seemingly passive nature he was clearly struggling, being bumped back or blocked unintentionally. nate shook his head as he slipped past alec before clearing his throat, "coming through! excuse me! make way!" he called loud enough for others to glance in his direction before stepping away. alec gripped the back of his shirt as he followed closely behind nate until they made it to the stairs. "thank you," alec said with a small smile before he hurried up the stairs to begin searching for her. nate was right behind him, peeking into opposite rooms and ducking as someone threw a high heel at him for intruding. "whoops, sorry, my bad, just looking for a friend!"

"kassy?" alec called down the hall before nate pointed as he spotted the man he'd seen her with exiting one of the rooms, "there, that guy, he was with her," they hurried over to it as the guy tried to hurry away, nate quickly grabbing his shoulder, "hey not so fast!" he said as he pushed him up against the wall. with the door open the woman was laying on the couch with kassy's head in her lap, her eyes glazed and hardly open as she seemed unresponsive. "kassy!" alec ran to her and gently shook her before glancing back at nate with panick in his wide eyes. nate's jaw clenched as he gripped the mans shoulder tighter, "what did you give her?" he demanded, shoving him against the wall a little harder as the mans hands went up defensively and sputtered lies.

"nate! get rev to find hunter!" alec pleaded and nate cursed under his breath, giving the guy a hard right hook before he took off back downstairs, not bothering to watch as the man crumpled to the ground.

—

a groan escaped kassy, face scrunching into a grimace as she weakly raised her hand to try and hide the light that was burning her eyes even through her eyelids. lashes fluttered and she shifted, head pounding before blinking slowly. where the hell was she? she thought when flashes of the night before assualted her and she quickly shot up from where she was laying. "it's okay," a familiar, monotone voice sounded from the corner of the room and quickly she glanced around. she had been laying in the bed of the gangs medroom and turning to face her from his desk was hunter. "what the hell happened....?" she murmured as she then spotted alec sleeping, curled up on the couch on the other side of the bed.

"why don't you tell me?" hunter countered, turned to face her, hands together in his lap as those unnerving sapphire eyes seemed to burn into her too. kassy looked away as she ran a hand through her messy hair and groaned again, body aching and throat dry as hell. "nothing, guess i partied too hard..." she muttered, "i guess i crashed somewhere and you brought me here?" she asked, glancing at hunter. "no, nathan brought you here after he and alec found you unresponsive in one of the rooms upstairs," his voice was bland, blunt and to the point, no sugar coating anything.

"oh." kassy murmured, feeling guilty for frightening alec. he didn't deserve it. it had been why she hadn't told him she was going out to begin with. and nathan was with him? guess it made sense, she kind of remembered bumping into him. "well.... thanks for not letting me die i guess," she shrugged as she laid back down and turned away from alec towards hunter. it had been reckless and stupid and dangerous, her actions last night but so what? she had felt great, finally replacing the numbness with something other than hurt and anger and festering hatred. "don't suppose you're still here to give me the i'm disappointed in you speech are you?" she muttered a little bitterly now but hunter sighed and she glanced at him. "no, i'm here to make sure you woke up alright."

rising from his seat, he ran the sink in the corner of the room, filling a glass of water as he brought it to her. she tensed as he drew close but took the water and sat up slowly once again. "thanks..." she murmured. there was silence for a long while as she simply stared down at the glass, dissociating until hunter finally broke the quiet. "you're allowed to be openly upset, kassy..." he told her, be it a little hypocritically (but she didn't know that), and she blinked before shooting him a glare. "thanks, though not sure what the fuck good that'll do," she spat before downing her water and hunter shook his head sadly. "it will feel better than doing this..." he pointed out and she scoffed. "what the hell do you know anyways?"

the question had hunter's lips quirking up in a smallest trace of amusement, "quite a lot when it comes to human health..." he pointed out and kassy groaned, falling back against the bed to cover her face with a pillow. "what's the point? being upset, angry, all those shit fucking emotions, the hell is the point? they're not here, and it won't make them come back." she felt like a fool, a heartbroken fool who knew she should just forget about them but still constantly worried about them even though she was fucking furious with them. "no, maybe not," hunter agreed as he moved then to sit at the edge of her bed, taking the glass in his hand. "but neither will this..." he pointed out and kassy glared harder into the pillow she wished she could just suffocate herself with at the moment. better the pillow than the emotions she barely managed to keep at bay.

"are you trying to punish them or yourself?" he then asked after a moment and kassy's throat closed with a surge of emotion, eyes stinging as she shut them tightly. she didn't answer him despite her heart aching with the simple answer of both. she wanted to punish them for leaving, to make them regret ever leaving her, regret going on the stupid and pointless quest after someone who hurt them over and over, make them realize they were doing the same damn thing. and she wanted to punish herself for doing what she knew she shouldn't, for opening up to them, for letting them see more than just the shallow reflection she used to protect herself. her shoulder shook with a silent sob, so angry with every single thing about it all.

a softness entered hunters gaze as he placed a hesitant hand on her arm and she sat up, releasing the pillow as she all but crawled into his lap, hugging him as she hid her face against his chest. "i didn't think they would do this..." she confessed heartbrokenly, "i'm an idiot, a fraud, i was so sure of myself, of them... i know... i know it's not that they chose to leave me.. i know... but it's all i can feel and it.. it hurts so much..." her words were a whispered confession as she quietly wept against hunters chest as his arms wrapped securely around her. "i'm sorry, kassy," he offered quietly. time passed and eventually alec woke from his spot on the couch. by then kassy had expelled some of her grief and her eyes had dried. "me too," she finally answered hunter before sitting up and pulling away.

as alec rose from the couch to go to them, hunter stood, suggesting she take the day to recover. her arms went around alec as he hurried to her, hugging her as he tried not to cry in relief. "i'm okay," she told him as her dull, dark gaze lifted to meet hunters, offering a small nod of thanks before she forced a smile for alec, "i'm sorry for scaring you, lets.. go home."

[the-al-chemist]

Artemis Hexley and the Return to the Riddles

Chapter 21: The Last Battle

A/N: The Circle of Khanna prepare to face the final Cursed Vault, but they aren’t the only ones wanting to get to it. Warnings: threat, violence, and a *reveal*…

The days stretched longer and longer as May drew to its close. The sun was already high in the sky when the owls arrived at the breakfast table to deliver the post on the last day of the month, one of them landing on the Hufflepuff table with a small, peculiar shaped parcel attached to its leg, which it stretched out to Artemis.

Artemis took the parcel from the bird, and opened the parcel to reveal a silver key, decorated with green-painted leaf-like tendrils that rolled down the length of the handle.

“What’s that?” asked Tonks, and both she and Penny frowned at the item over the top of their Potions revision. 

“It’s a key,” said Artemis, smiling as she read the handwritten note her great-uncle had wrapped into the parcel containing the key. “Sickleworth had it this whole time.”

“What does it unlock?”

“Well, judging by the fact that it’s decorated with Gillyweed,” Chiara looked closely at the key, “I’d assume that it unlocks something to do with water.”

“The Vault in the lake, maybe?”

“That’s what I’m hoping.” Artemis nodded. “I’ll see what Bill makes of it.”

As breakfast finished, Artemis placed the key in her pocket and loitered near the top table of the Great Hall, where Bill was mid-conversation with Hagrid the gameskeeper. When the two had finished talking and Bill left the table, she rushed to meet him.

“What do you think of this?” she asked him, holding the key out for him to inspect. Bill sighed heavily.

“Good morning, Bill, did you sleep well? Yes, I did. Thank you for asking,” he said, but he took the key from her. “What does this do?”

“I was hoping you might tell me. Rakepick sent me and Sickleworth into Filch’s office to find it back in my fourth year. She said it was important, and so I thought it might-”

“Be needed to open the final Vault? It would make sense, what with the Gillyweed.”

“That’s what Chiara said,” Artemis frowned. “I didn’t know what Gillyweed has to do with the lake-”

“It makes you breathe underwater.”

“- but Duncan said that Olivia Green found a key that she thought would open the final Vault, and it reminded me of this one.”

“Nicely remembered,” said Bill. He lowered his voice slightly. “You know, we might need this pretty soon.”

Artemis tilted her head to one side. “What do you mean?”

“Hagrid was just telling me that the Grindylows have started acting aggressively, same as they did last year. If you ask me, it won’t be long until…”

“The statue curse gets released,” Artemis finished Bill’s sentence for him, and he inclined his head, his face grim. Artemis looked at the key. “We need to get to that Vault. Tonight.”

“Tonight? Artemis, that’s… We aren’t ready, we don’t even know-”

“That’s the problem, Bill! No one knows how to open this Vault, not for certain.”

“No, but if we take a bit longer to research, then we can have a better idea of what we’re doing.”

“If we take much longer, more people will get cursed, or the Cabal might beat us to it,” Artemis argued. “We can’t risk losing out to them now just so we can spend longer reading books for clues that might not even be there. You know, the clues might even be hidden inside the Vault itself!”

Bill exhaled, his features softening as he did. “Okay, you have a point,” he told her. “A good point. But I’m just as worried about the Cabal as the Vault. Who knows what they know already? You said they have an informant in the Auror office.”

“They did have one, but not anymore. Kingsley said they caught him. Someone called Williamson, I think.”

“And did Williamson tell them anything about R after they caught him?”

“Nothing yet. Apparently he’s still pretending to know nothing about it all, even though Moody told him the information that got leaked and no one else. But at least the Aurors are all trustworthy now.” Artemis shrugged. An idea stuck her, and she turned to Bill. “What if we ask the Aurors to guard the school while we go down to the final Vault? That way, we won’t have to worry about the Cabal showing up, because the Aurors can stop them getting as far as the lake.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Bill, nodding slowly. “How long will it take for you to arrange that with Kingsley?”

“A day, maybe?” Artemis said. “Could be less. We might even be able to get to the Vault tonight.” Bill rolled his eyes. “What?”

“You really haven’t changed a bit, have you?” 

Bill might have been sceptical about Artemis’ desire for haste, but both Kingsley and Mad-Eye Moody had thought her idea of getting to the Vault as quickly as possible a good one. The following night, an Auror patrol was set up around the perimeter of the school grounds, and the Circle of Khanna met in the entrance hall of the castle. The doors were open as they gathered, giving them a clear view of the courtyard beyond, illuminated by the crescent moon.

“That’s everyone,” Bill told Artemis, his eyes scanning the group as if he were counting them. Artemis nodded.

“Good. That’s good,” she said. “Right, so this is it. The final Vault.” Jae wolf-whistled quietly, and Artemis rolled her eyes before continuing, “The Vault is in a cave in the middle of the lake, and we are going to need to swim there. That means you'll need this." 

She nodded to Tonks and Tulip, who began to hand out clumps of a stringy green plant to the others. 

"This is Gillyweed, Tonks and I nicked it from the greenhouses. It'll let you breathe underwater."

"What happened to the Bubblehead Charm we used last year?" asked Barnaby, holding up a piece of Gillyweed and sniffing it suspiciously.

"Nothing happened to it, it's just that we might need to keep our wands free, that's all. The Cabal might be there, we need to be ready to defend ourselves if necessary."

Penny's blue eyes widened. "I thought you said the Aurors would be here to deal with the Cabal."

"Yeah, they will. They’re all stationed around the edges of the grounds keeping watch, and they have signals and stuff set up in place if there’s any trouble. But Moody still said we need to keep our wits about us, just in case."

Tonks screwed up her face and one of her eyes doubled in size, its iris changing colour to a bright electric blue.

"Constant vigilance!" she said in a gruff voice that was impressively similar to that of Mad-Eye Moody. A few of the others laughed, but most did not. 

"I know it might be dangerous," Artemis told them. "It's okay if you've changed your minds. It's not too late to turn back."

"Like hell it isn't," muttered Merula. "Come on, let's do this."

Bill and Artemis led the Circle of Khanna out of the main doors of the castle into the darkened entrance courtyard, on the other side of which a set of steps carved into the cliffside wound down to the lakeshore below. As they walked across the courtyard, wands raised and ready, Artemis felt a hand on her right shoulder. She turned to see Charlie Weasley behind her, staring at the cloisters with his eyebrows knitted together.

"We weren't expecting anyone else, were we?" he asked, his voice low.

Artemis shook her head and followed his gaze to see that someone was standing in the cloisters, tall and cloaked in shadow. As they stepped out, the moonlight illuminated their features, their height cheekbones and silver-streaked dark hair. It took a moment for Artemis to realise that she recognised the newcomer. 

She wasn't the only one.

"Dad?" Tulip pushed past Artemis and Bill to approach the wizard in the cloisters. "What are you doing here?"

"Shacklebolt told me what your friends had planned," said Ambassador Karasu, with a dirty look in Artemis' direction. "I came here to make sure that you have nothing to do with this."

"But-"

"I don't know why Shacklebolt even agreed to this nonsense. This is not something for teenagers to be engaged in, let alone when one of those teenagers is my daughter."

"We know what we're doing, Dad," Tulip rolled her eyes.

"This is far too dangerous for you. I forbid you to have any part in it."

"I'm of age. You can't forbid me to do anything."

Tulip's words seemed to have hit a nerve with her father. He reached out and grabbed her by the arm, so fast and so forcefully that Artemis was certain his hand would leave a mark. 

"Let go of me!"

But Karasu did not let go of Tulip. Instead, he tightened his grip. Tulip winced as she tried to wriggle free, to no avail, and Artemis raised her wand, ready to take matters into her own hands. Before she had the chance to do anything, however, Barnaby Lee had already pointed his wand at the ambassador, his jaw clenched and shoulders shaking.

"Relashio!"

A flurry of purple sparks issued from Barnaby's wand and hit Karasu in the wrist. His hand jerked as if it were going into spasm, and his grip on his daughter's arm loosened. Tulip wrenched her arm away from him and rejoined her friends.

"My friends are going to the lake, and they are going to break these curses once and for all," she told her father in a voice that was laced with fury. "I am going with them, and there is nothing you can say or do to stop me, or any of us, for that matter."

As she spoke, Tulip's almond-shaped eyes were narrowed and fixed on her father, but he no longer seemed to be looking at her. Instead, his gaze had settled on the far corner of the courtyard, at the top of the cliffside steps. Frowning, Artemis turned to see what he was looking at, and her stomach lurched. 

At the top of the steps were two more people: a pot-bellied wizard with a darkened nose who Artemis immedaitely recognised as her former teacher, Professor Topsy, and a tall, grey-haired witch in purple robes who she didn’t recognise, but knew without asking who she must be. If her violet-coloured eyes hadn't given her away, the fact that Merula Snyde had tensed beside her was all the proof she needed. This had to be Madam Buckthorn, Merula's aunt, the head Healer of St Mungo's Hospital, and the Director of the Cabal.

"You tried, Karasu. Looks like your daughter is just as disobedient as my niece. You know, my dear, you should listen to your father," said Madam Buckthorn, smiling passively at Tulip. "He's right, this isn't a matter for teenagers. It's very good of you all to have helped Miss Hexley with the last few Vaults, but I must insist that we take it from here." Her eyes settled on Artemis briefly, before she turned to talk to someone behind her. "I see what you mean. She really does look like her brother. I do hope that she will not cause us as much trouble."

Artemis glared at Madam Buckthorn. "Don't you dare talk about my brother," she said, raising her wand. "If it weren't for you, he'd never have been in any trouble at all."

“Did you not learn anything from the prophecy you stole, Hexley? You and your brother have been in trouble since you were born.”

“What do you… Wait. How do you know about us stealing the prophecy?”

There was a soft laugh from behind Madam Buckthorn, who stepped aside to reveal another witch, one with dark hair and glasses that caught the silver moonlight. Artemis' heart skipped a beat. 

"Rowan?"

Of course, it wasn't Rowan. But the witch looked familiar, with her curly hair and bright green eyes. Artemis had seen her before, spoken to her, been helped by her.

Olivia Green.

"You? You're one of them?" Artemis frowned. "But you… You were Jacob's friend."

"I still am,” said Olivia. “So is the Ronde. We all wanted the same thing. We're on the same side, Artemis."

"The Ronde tried to kill me. They did kill Rowan, Duncan... After everything that’s happened, how can you be on their side?"

"The Final Vault requires a life," Olivia Green shook her head sadly, but there was no regret in her eyes. "Duncan and I both wanted to get into the Vaults with your brother. Duncan should have felt honoured to lay down his life for it. It wasn't his fault that his life wasn't the one that was needed." 

Artemis looked at her in disgust. "Your friend died, and you don't even feel sorry about it."

"I feel sorry that his death was a waste. I should've known that he wasn't the one," Olivia's green eyes narrowed. "Oh, but your brother was always so very clever..."

Beside her, Madam Buckthorn let out a noise almost like a laugh. "He still is. It's a pity that he had to go and put himself in Azkaban prison so we couldn't have him lead us to the final Vault. Although, naturally, that's what he planned all along. We needed one of you to fulfil the prophecy, and without him, we'd have no choice but to have you do it. Which meant that we'd need you alive."

"Especially after our plan with Shiratori failed," muttered Karasu. "Damn that Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"Where is he?" asked Artemis, her heart sinking as she realised that if the Cabal was here, at the castle, then something must have happened to the Aurors who had planned to keep them safe. "Where is Kingsley?”

"I expect that Burke has led him and his team on somewhat of a wild ghost chase.”

“Burke? The Metamorphmagus?”

“Loken infiltrated the Auror office almost a year ago, has been passing information ever since. You know that, though,” Olivia said. “You told me about it, remember? That night you came to the Department of Mysteries.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you trusted a stranger so easily, after ‘everything that’s happened’.”

“Now, Olivia. We should be grateful that young Artemis was so generous in giving you that information. After all, if she had not, Burke would not have been able to frame another Auror and keep Shacklebolt’s trust, which would have been a great shame. I always think it useful to have friends in high places." Madam Buckthorn nodded her head in Professor Topsy's direction. "Take Topsy for example. Or your old ally, Patricia Rakepick. Both of them were so good at making sure situations were taken care of..." She smiled as Artemis' hand tightened on the hilt of her wand. "Now, now, there's no need to fret. No harm will come to your friend Shacklebolt, or any of your friends here."

“I don’t believe you,” said Artemis, he feet shifting into a duelling position.

"You should. We aren't interested in harming others unnecessarily. The Vaults have had their life, so no more need be taken. You can thank Rakepick for that, Rakepick and your dear little friend. What was her name?"

Artemis narrowed her her eyes and pursed her lips tight together. She wouldn't allow these people to say Rowan's name. They didn't deserve it.

"Khanna," Topsy said, his words almost completely clear. "Rowan Khanna."

"Of course. Thanks to Rowan Khanna, the Vaults are yours to open, Miss Hexley. Now all you need do is lead us to them."

"I'm not leading you anywhere," Artemis growled.

"You don't have a choice," said Olivia Green. "Your brother made sure of that the moment he put himself in Azkaban, as did you, when you picked up that prophecy. You have to lead us."

"No, I don't," Artemis raised her chin and stared defiantly at Olivia. "The prophecy says I have to lead a circle. I already have one, right here. I don't need you, and I don't want you."

"Ah," said Madam Buckthorn. "That complicates things."

Artemis shrugged. "Not really. It's simple. I lead my friends to the Cursed Vault, we open it, and you lot bugger off. Pretty easy to understand."

"I do understand, Miss Hexley, but what you don't understand is that my previous comment about not needing to hurt any of your friends was based on the assumption that they would not get in our way. You will lead the Cabal to the Vault, and not your little friends, or there will be a conflict, which we will win."

"We'll see about that," said a voice - Merula's voice - from beside Artemis. She was staring at  her aunt with open revulsion, her hand trembling slightly as she gripped her wand with white knuckles. "Confringo!"

A jet of bright orange light burst out of Merula's wand and soared through the air in the direction of Madam Buckthorn. It looked like the curse might hit her, but she raised her hand and waved it once, deflecting the light before it could do any damage. But Merula had cast the first curse, and now more were following, as one by one, the CIrcle of Khanna turned their wands on the Cabal. 

Battle had commenced. Tulip's father was duelling against the combined forces of his own daughter, Barnaby, Tonks, and Andre. Madam Buckthorn was up against Merula, Talbott, Ismelda, Jae, and Chiara. Topsy was fighting Ben, Liz, Diego, and Badeea; whilst Artemis joined Bill, Charlie, and Penny as they fought against Olivia Green. 

The Circle of Khanna outnumbered the Ronde in terms of numbers, but each member of the Circle only had one wand, and just as Rakepick had known how to cast spells without one, so too did the rest of the Cabal. Despite seeming to have the advantage, the Circle found themselves having to fight tooth and nail to keep up  with the force of the spells the Cabal were throwing their way.

With Olivia not using a wand to cast her spells, Artemis was finding it hard to predict which spells her opponent would use, and at whom. It was making it harder to counter every move, and her companions did not have the advantage of her Legilimency.

As Artemis dodged a spell issued from Olivia’s wand, Charlie pulled Penny out of the way of a sudden explosion caused by the snapping of Olivia’s fingers. Olivia’s lips curved into a smile that was more like a snarl, and she cast another curse with her wand in Charlie's direction.

Bill quickly cast a shield charm to protect his brother, exposing the side of his torso as he leapt to Charlie's defence. Olivia's free hand reached out and she clenched her fist, and Bill let out a cry of pain, his own hand reaching for his ribcage. Her nostrils flaring, Artemis volleyed her own curse in Olivia's direction, but Olivia pushed her hand forward, palm first, and the light from Artemis' wand stopped in mid-air and changed direction so that it shot straight back at her.

"Protego!" 

A deep, rumbling shout echoed across the courtyard, and black wizard in deep purple robes entered the fray, his wand arching gracefully through the air, leaving a shield of silver behind it. Kingsley's shield charm hung in the air in front of Artemis, bursting into fractals as Artemis' returned curse hit it in the centre. 

The Circle of Khanna’s luck had changed; they had reinforcements. From the cliff steps, more Aurors were appearing: Moody, Scrimgeour, Proudfoot and Savage, and Dawlish, his arm no longer in a bandage. And from the castle, too, more adults were joining the scene: Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Snape, and Sprout; Hagrid and Professor Kettleburn; and Madams Pomfrey and Hooch were all running out from the entrance hall. 

The courtyard was no longer in shadow, instead it was alight with the flashes and beams of spells and curses as the Circle of Khanna, the teachers, and the Aurors combined forces to battle the Cabal. 

Kingsley shot another spell in Olivia's direction before pulling Artemis into the cloisters.

"What took you so long?" Artemis asked him, and he shook his head.

"We were each watching an entrance of the castle," he told her. "A distress signal went up, so we followed the call, but it was a false alarm. When we saw the flashes from up here, we realised it wasn’t a false alarm at all, but a distraction.”

"That’s because you never really caught the informant. It was Burke, the Metamorphmagus," Artemis said. "He's been in disguise as one of the Aurors all along. He's here."

Kingsley frowned and looked out of the cloisters at the battle that was still going strong in the courtyard. His eyes scanned the scene, before settling in the far corner.

"Dawlish," he muttered. "Of course."

Artemis looked out and saw that Kingley was right. Dawlish had disappeared from the scene, and in his place was a wizard with dark cropped hair and a sardonic looking expression, currently mid-duel with Tonks. 

"What do you think he’s done with the real-"

"I dread to think," said Kingsley, his eyes still on the scene. "Can they all do wandless magic?"

"Yeah."

"Then we'll need all the fighters we can spare."

"We've all been practising duelling. We can all stay and fight," said Artemis, but as the words came out of her mouth, she realised that they weren’t true. “Except… Well, we still need to get to the Vault. That’s why we’re all here.”

Kingsley frowned. “How many people do you need to take with you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“In which case, Tiny, I want you to forget about this fight. You have your own to deal with. Run, take as many of your friends as you can without drawing too much attention to yourself, and get down to that lakeshore."

"But-"

"The rest of us can deal with the Cabal, you have to be the one to open the Cursed Vaults. Go. Run."

Artemis took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around Kingsley's waist before nodding her head and springing into action. She jumped out of the cloisters and weaved her way through the fighters, dodging and ducking and deflecting curses as she went, wondering how many of her friends she could pull away from the battle without either alerting the Cabal to their absence or giving them an advantage in the fight. 

In the end, she managed to get eight members of the Circle of Khanna to follow her away from the courtyard and down the winding cliff path stairs: Bill, Penny, Tonks, Charlie, Ben, Merula, Barnaby, and Tulip.

“Where are we going?” Penny asked breathlessly, as Artemis led the group down towards the lakeshore.

“To the Vault,” replied Artemis. "We have to get to that Vault and finish this. Now."

"What about the others?"

"Kingsley said more fighters were needed and that we couldn't draw too much attention to ourselves. This is the only way.”

“But-”

“Hexley is right,” Merula said. “We’ve come this far. We can’t let them win. The Cabal or the Cursed Vaults.”

They reached the bottom of the cliffs, and paused on the pebbled shore of the Black Lake. The atmosphere far quieter than it had been in the courtyard, though the noise of the fight could still be heard in the distance, and the night sky was still lit up with curses which from here looked almost like the fireworks that had been set off the night Jacob had left home, all those years ago. Artemis took a deep breath of the cool night air.

"They'll be okay," said Bill, smiling weakly at Artemis. "I taught them well last year." 

Despite his comment actually reassuring her, Artemis rolled her eyes at him. She looked back at the lake. The surface of the water was completely still, as if no horrors lay in its depths. But they did, she knew that better than anyone.

Artemis reached into her pocket and pulled out a sprig of Gillyweed, and the others followed suit. Tonks made eye contact with her and grinned.

"Bottoms up, right?"

[depressed-sock]

bthb: Attacked in their sleep with MacCready from Fallout

Tw: Typical Fallout Violence

Sorry this took awhile lol

...

MacCready doesn’t usually travel alone these days. There’s no need for it. Not when there’s always someone else on hand willing to go with you. Lending a hand or gun for whatever it is you’re heading out to do. Usually, it’s MacCready lending that extra gun to Sole or whoever in their little group needs it.

Today is different. Sole is off with Preston checking on their settlements, making sure everyone’s got what they need to survive. So they’re nowhere near Sanctuary when one of their Minutemen approaches MacCready with a nervous shift in their steps. He’s sure he wasn’t exactly their first choice but he’s the only one of Sole’s main group still here. Everyone else has already left for the month, going to check in at their usual haunts.

MacCready had just finished packing and was a foot out the door himself, getting ready to check back in at Goodneighbor for any new mail that might have come through. Only to find himself stopped by the figure about a foot smaller than him.

They stand in front of him, their hat tilted just enough to shade their eyes from the sun, and so that they don’t have to look him in the eyes. He waits, they shift nervously from one foot to another, he raises an eyebrow.

They’re quiet a few more seconds before finally they speak in a rush, voice cracking, “Mr. MacCready? Uhm, you’re headed down towards Goodneighbor, right? The Mechanic friend of the General’s finished that fancy radio and it needs to be delivered to the Castle. Uhm, I would’ve asked the General to pick it up but they’re nowhere near here. And I guess I did ask them but they said to just send it with the Caravan but that wouldn’t get there around the same time as them. ” They stop for a second to pull in another breath to continue but MacCready just holds his hand up to stop the barrage of information.

They’re definitely a kid now that he looks at them, possibly a few years shy of eighteen. They tilt their head up, hat moved just enough so that he can see them watching him nervously. “You want me to deliver something to the Castle?” He asks patiently.

They sigh in relief as he says it before nodding their head rigorously, “It’s important and I’d send it off with one of the Caravans like the General said but they’ve got a route to follow so they wouldn’t be there until a week after the General had already passed through. But a person who's just traveling could make it there in a day or two.”

MacCready scratches his chin a bit, thinking about it. He could stop by Goodneighbor, stay the night, maybe pick up Cait or Hancock if they’re there, and then set out for the Castle. That route would be the hardest part of the journey because despite the new patrols the super mutants were definitely still a problem he didn’t want to deal with alone.

“Yeah, I could do that. Sole- The General is supposed to be at the Castle right now?”

“Either there right now or at least in the next few days according to what I’ve been told.”

He nods his head. He can hold up on meeting with Daisy for a few more days. It’s not like he’s waiting for any urgent news now that Duncan’s stable. “Right, I’ll meet them there then. Where’s the thing you want me to deliver?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone look so relieved before in his life, they dig through their bag pulling out a carefully wrapped package before handing it to him. “We’ve got two radios but we’d prefer it if you just be really careful with this one. I’m sure the mechanic could make a copy with the scrap laying around but really please make sure it gets there in one piece.”

He rolls his eyes, taking it and gently shoving it into his pack, right between his clothes. “Not my first time delivering something kid. This’ll be easy.”

They nod their head again, stopping only when they seem to be getting just a few times shy of dizzy. “Sure! Just, still, please be careful.”

He chuckles, waving them off as he pulls the strap of his pack onto his shoulder. Starting his way down the road and away from Sanctuary.

…

“Oh it’ll be easy, what a load of crap. Mother fucking-” He curses under his breath as he dodges into a building. Crouching low in hopes of avoiding the super mutants making their way down the street. He’s still nowhere near Goodneighbor having already taken a few detours to avoid a heavily armed group of raiders and a patrolling group of fucking synths.

Needless to say, his luck has been absolute shi- crap. Enough that he’s broken his no-cussing rule about a dozen times over in these last few hours alone. Sorry, Duncan.

The stomping grows closer, and he decides maybe he’s better off getting to higher ground. Quietly as he can, he sneaks slowly across the floor. Eyes shifting back and forth to the broken windows of the building and to where he’s stepping. Trying to carefully watch out for anything that might make a sound if he stepped on it.

When he finally gets to the stairs he weighs his options. There’s a high possibility that no matter what he does, walking on those steps are going to make them creak. Going slow might be worse if the mutants decide to barge in to find the source that noise. He breathes in once, licking dried lips before he runs quickly up to the next floor. Skipping a few steps at a time to hopefully limit the noise.

He holds his breath when he reaches the top. Stopping for a moment as he listens for the mutants. They’re still walking at their usual pace, not noticeably slowed or hurried. He breathes out a sigh of relief, assuming they must not have noticed any movement in the building.

Listening as they walk past, loudly yelling at each other before their voices start to grow a bit more distant. Then he takes the final set of stairs to the third floor, going slower and keeping as quiet as possible. Just the quick glance around as he navigates the building says this place has been long abandoned. With a layer of dust suggesting it hasn’t been reclaimed by anything else in the wasteland in a long while.

MacCready makes his way to an old apartment room with a view of the street. Peaking out the window, he watches as the super mutants make their way further down the road, heading towards what he assumes is their current base a few more streets down. He could try to continue his way to Goodneighbor. Could take the risk of the night, it’ll give him better cover to sneak around but it’ll give more than just him cover. The last thing he needs is to accidentally stumble across any more mutants or raiders.

He looks around the room he’s in, pretty well fortified all things considered. A sparsely decorated bedroom, with a bed and a few dressers. All four walls are intact and the roof has no holes in it. The windows are cracked but he doubts anything would climb up to the third floor to get him. If he blocks off the doorway anything that might be alive anywhere else in the building shouldn’t be able to get to him. At least not without alerting him to their presence.

He doesn’t even have to sleep, just wait until daybreak then make a run for Goodneighbor.

He can still hear the mutants walking down the road. Voices and steps slowly growing more and more distant. Fuc- Fudge it. He may as well get some rest while he can.

So he waits until he can’t see or hear them anymore, then he waits a few minutes longer just to be sure. Then he slides his bag off, setting it in the corner nearest to the window and farthest from the door. Moving back to the door, closing and testing the lock to find that it works. Then just in case he also moves one of the dressers in front of it. Wincing as it screeches loudly as he pushes it along the wooden floor.

He pauses afterward, keeping an ear out for any possible movement in the building or streets below. There’s only silence to greet him. He sighs, unslinging his rifle from his shoulder before returning to that spot in the corner. He slides against the wall and onto his ass, rifle in hand. He’ll stay awake for most of the night, maybe catch a couple of hours of sleep before dawn. It’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.

…

He doesn’t know when he nods off to sleep. Only that one moment he can feel himself start to drift off, his eyes closing of their own accord and the next he’s being grabbed and bodily thrown across the room. He tries to rush back to his senses, to get some awareness of the situation.

There’s a low guttural growl that sends a spike of familiar fear as a figure lands on him. He’s trying to scramble to escape as fingers claw at him, and forces him to raise his arms to defend against the assault. Somewhere in his brain, he’s registered that it’s a ghoul that’s trying to rip into him. MacCready can feel himself panicking, falling into that familiar fear as he tries to get the ghoul off of him.

He barely manages to bite back a scream as its jaw latches onto his sleeved arm. The pressure is enough that it could easily rip a chunk out if it weren’t for the coat that is just barely protecting him from it breaking into his skin.

The ghoul is distracted as it tries to chew through his arm and he uses the chance to have his free hand to feel his thigh for the knife strapped to it. Grabbing it and pulling it free just as the ghoul shakes its head like a dog trying to tear apart the meat in its mouth. He grits his teeth, a wounded sound still escaping despite his best efforts.

Which only seems to entice the ghoul further, its hands now trying to rip and tear into his face, one swipe, in particular, leaves him wincing, trying to rear back from the assault. He kicks out trying to dislodge the ghoul just enough so that maybe he can get a clear shot to stab it. But it’s heavier than he expected, barely getting it to move an inch as it continues to attack.

The ghoul’s mouth dropping his arm and now trying for his face. MacCready holds it back with his injured arm, bringing his other up to help, knife still in hand. Gritting his teeth as it pushes further and further down. Rancid breath in his face and drool pooling on his cheek. He twists the knife around pointing the sharp end towards the ghoul’s neck. He sucks in a breath.

Then he stops fighting it. Letting its own weight and strength push the knife through its neck and into its spine.

It falls onto him, still and silent. He quickly pushes it off, coughing as he breathes through the panic still running through his chest. He grabs the knife yanking it free and then he stabs it into the ghoul’s skull over and over again. Until all that’s left is mush, until his breathing finally slows and his heart feels less like it’s going to jump out of his chest.

Then he drops the knife, scooting far enough away from the body that he can curl up into his knees, head hidden as he rocks back and forth and tries not to think about what just happened. He’s still shaking, still reliving what just happened as another scene plays in his head. He knows he needs to move. To check where he went wrong and see if there’s still more around that he needs to worry about.

He breathes in, holding his breath for a second. Then he shakily releases it. MacCready looks up, eyeing the room in the dim moonlight. Nothing has budged the dresser or door. Nothing has broken the windows further and he’s pretty sure he would have heard it if the ghoul had attempted any of those options. That leaves… He peers under the bed, seeing a pooling of blood and other excrement beneath, and silently curses himself.

He hadn’t noticed the smell. All these old buildings around here smell off like this. Of blood and decay. What’s worse though is that he forgot to do a thorough check of the room. Didn’t even bother to. It must have just been fucking lying under the bed this entire time and came out when it finally got hungry enough too.

His hands shake as he pushes himself to stand, stepping near the ghoul only to grab his knife, wiping it off on his pants before placing it back in its sheath. Then he makes his way back to the window and grabs his gun that had been tossed to the side. He sits, checks the bullets, places that safety off, and waits for sunrise. Now fully and utterly awake.

[bubbleteasing]

I have read quite a few emotional fics on ao3, but your "a cigarette at a time" is one of the few fics that hit me right in the feels--one of the most emotional undertale fics i have read. The way you write made me tear up, especially when writing MC's grief after duncan's death and red's guilt about breaking her trust. Crying while reading is not something i do often, but I did while reading your fic. I just wanted to let you know that you are a very skilled author!!

I’ve read this ask a couple of times before answering and it got me thinking about how I ended up writing something so sad. At first I thought about writing this fic as a one shot. I mostly wanted to write smut and maybe a bit of angst, but I started fantasizing about reader having a pet dog since I happened to lose mine just a couple of months before finally writing down what I thought was going to be a one shot. I didn’t want to write too much of my own experiences as reader’s, but I ended up writing about my dog in the end. I omitted the most crude and heartbreaking parts, avoiding dialogues and avoiding giving the dog too much of a personality, so readers don’t have to see how his personality slowly faded away, yet a lot of people seemed to find it very sad. That’s the most unexpected feedback I’ve gotten from this fic so far. I didn’t want people to get sad but I’m ‘glad’ I delivered the message?? If that makes sense?

Also, I absolutely get what you say about reading and crying. I never cry when I write but I had to put my phone down several times while writing that scene. It took me hours to get through that part.

I still have a long way to go as a writer (specially in English since it’s not my first language) but I’ll keep writing to get better!

[meli2goated]

DUNCENY WEEK, DAY 1 :

LOVE ME, NORMALLY (BASED OFF WILL WOOD)

*In lipstick on the mirror*

*Are the lyrics to my obituary*

*In iambic pentameter, followed parameter*

*Crossing my eyes, dot my T's*

Courtney was getting ready for one of those dates she had with Duncan. She was nervous for some reason. Why? Because, well, she was afraid of him, and afraid he would cheat on her again, or hurt her again. But she always took him back, because she loved him.

*I was delivered holding scissors*

*I live deliberately, I'm a quitter*

*And a winner anyway*

*Cause I never agreed to participate in this game*

Duncan came to pick her up, around 7, just like they promised.

Courtney went outside and noticed he was there. She didn't expect him to be on time for their dates. He was always REALLY late. It was a bad habit of his. But god damn, he looked GOOD. And, he thought the same thing about her.

"Hi, Princess. Ready to go?"

"Yea."

Courtney felt something off about him. She couldn't put it on the tip of her tongue but, it felt STRANGE.

*Won't follow my dreams*

*No, they've all got me waking up screaming*

*I can't let them go from me*

*After all there's no "I" in team*

They got into Duncan's car, but the silence was quite loud.

"So, how was your day?"

"It was okay, and you?"

"It was alright."

Courtney felt weird.

"Duncan, why aren't you acting like your usual self?"

"What do you mean, Princess? I'm acting normal."

"No, you're not. Duncan, I know you. This isn't you. You don't normally show up early on our dates, or ask me how my day is, you just be an arrogant asshole."

Shit. Did she know?

*And I'd rather be normal. Yes, so normal.*

"Well, you wanted me to change, right?"

"What?"

Courtney infact DID want him to change, like WAAAY long ago. She didn't really care about that shit anymore. She just cared about him.

Did he not realize that?

*I suggest we keep this informal*

"Well, yes, but that was YEARS ago. I don't care about that shit anymore. I care about YOU, and I don't want you acting like some bastard who's trying to act all different just cause I made that stupid list years ago."

Infact, Courtney HATED when people brought that up. Why? Because it was one of the worst times in her life that she doesn't want to get into.

*Cause a normal human being wouldn't need*

*To pretend to be normal*

*Well I guess that's the least that I owe ya*

*To be normal in a way I couldn't be*

*C'mon, c'mon, and love me normally*

The silence grew louder. Why was it so quiet? Well, Duncan wanted to hear those words in forever. No one knew that though.

*If I could live in third person*

"You really mean that, princess?"

*Well I don't think life would be much worse than it is*

"Yes, Duncan. I'm sorry for that stupid shit I said years ago. I really care for you, and I want you to realize that, so don't try changing yourself for me you big bum."

*In the current tense, presently*

They laughed it off, it felt good to get things off their chest.

*The sentence ending with question marks or dot dot dot*

"Alright, now let's go! We need to get this date started!"

*Is it courageous or escapist*

"Okay, Princess, relax."

*To leave the quarantine when you're contagious*

Duncan drove her to the restaurant, it was pretty nice for them. They both felt very happy. They both didn't want this date to end.

THATS IT CRIES :((( UGH I LOVE DUNCENY

[nightingaelic]

Fallout 4 companions react to meeting Arcade Gannon?

Ever the curious neighbor, as soon as the sole survivor spotted the blonde, bespectacled man at the bar in the Dugout Inn, they drifted over and struck up a conversation. A drink or two later, the two were swapping tales about wasteland encounters, pointing at various holes in their travel clothes and pairing them up with fantastic backstories. When the sole survivor's companion finally swung open the door, they were given an inviting wave.

"Sit down!" the sole survivor encouraged them. "First round's on me. I'd like you to meet Arcade."

Cait: "Hiya handsome." Cait winked at the man in the lab coat and leaned on the bar. "I'm Cait. Never seen you around before. Where is it you're comin' from?"

"I, uh..." Arcade adjusted his glasses and ran a hand through his wavy hair. "West of here. Nowhere in particular."

"A free spirit, then? Just passin' through?" Cait looked him up and down. "Think the Science! Center might be lookin' for a new egghead, if those clothes aren't just for show."

Arcade tugged on his outfit self-consciously. "I thought it might keep Commonwealth raiders from shooting me on sight, if they thought I was a doctor."

Cait bobbed her head in a noncommittal way. "Or they might see you as an easy target. That is, if they don't spot that plasma pistol you've got in your back pocket."

Codsworth: "Hello to you, sir!" Codsworth exclaimed, bobbing excitedly. "Codsworth, at your service. Might I say, it is a fine occasion to meet someone nowadays who appreciates the importance of good hygience and care for one's appearance."

"Thank you," Arcade said, with a somewhat quizzical glance at the sole survivor. "And you belong to..."

"Well, I belong to him just as much as he belongs to me," the sole survivor jumped in to explain.

Codsworth waved them off. "Not to worry, the conventional assumptions are not unwarranted. I am happy to accompany and assist in wasteland adventures as necessary. When not necessary, I typically clean the house."

Curie: "Monsieur Arcade," Curie purred, with the special enthusiasm she reserved for introductions. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. You can call me Curie. Have you been in Diamond City long?"

"Not long at all," Arcade replied, clearly intrigued by Curie's accent. “Parlez-vous français?"

"Oui, Monsieur!" Curie exclaimed. "Le français est si rare de nos jours. Où avez-vous appris?"

"Oh, um... des... des livres, principalement," Arcade stammered. "Books. It's not as good as my Latin, I'm sorry."

"Latin?" Curie switched gears instantly. "Etiam magis rara."

Arcade laughed. "Well, not where I'm from. Who are you? Linguists are practically unicorns, nowadays."

Curie sighed. "It is a long story. Perhaps we wait until Vadim brings the drinks, and we can compare notes?"

Danse: "Ad victoriam, Arcade." Paladin Danse shook the newcomer's hand with gusto. "Paladin Danse, with the Brotherhood of Steel."

Arcade's eyes narrowed. "Brotherhood of Steel?"

"That's correct, citizen," Danse replied proudly.

"Uh-huh." Arcade looked back to the sole survivor. "I had no idea they were in the area. Are you stationed in Diamond City?"

"Brotherhood operations are a strictly classified matter," Danse answered, furrowing his brow. "But our main base of operations is at the Boston airport, where the Prydwen is docked. You can't miss it."

"Well, that explains it." Arcade examined his drink, avoiding eye contact with the Paladin. "I didn't come in from the north. I'm sure it's a sight to see."

Deacon: "Nice to meet you." Deacon declined the handshake, instead crossing his arms and cocking his head to the side. "Nice tan. Been on the road long?"

"Too long," Arcade replied, retracting his hand and returning the calculated look.

Deacon grinned. "Alright, I won't pry. Welcome to Diamond City. Did Vadim try to poison you yet?"

"You watch it, John Doe!" Vadim shot back from halfway down the bar. "Or I call the guards, see if you actually do work the midnight shift, ya?"

"You can walk down to Danny's sign-up sheet for shifts and check yourself!" Deacon's grin grew wider. "And I'll tend bar. We'll see who can do a better job of it."

Dogmeat: Dogmeat approached the man's open hand, which he gave a good sniff. Soap, hot dust, a whiff of plasma cartridges: Nothing out of the ordinary. Satisfied, the dog opened his mouth to pant, tongue lolling, and accepted the scratch behind the ears.

Hancock: "Arcade, huh?" Hancock gave the man a winning smile and took one of the open stools. "I'm Hancock. First time in Diamond City? You're gonna love it here. Vadim and his brother really know how to knock you on the floor."

As if to demonstrate, Vadim delivered three shots of Bobrov's Best to the little group. "On the house," he offered. "Celebrating Mayor Hancock's newest business deal with yours truly."

Hancock threw his back, and when Arcade hesitated, he threw that shot back too. "Next one, buddy."

"Did he say Mayor Hancock?" Arcade asked. "Mayor of Diamond City?"

"Nah, nah." Hancock laughed. "God, wouldn't that be a riot. Ever hear of a town called Goodneighbor?"

MacCready: "Arcade." MacCready shook the man's hand warily. "Like the pre-war places that have a whole bunch of games inside them?"

"Actually, like the..." Arcade made a face. "You know what, never mind. Like the pre-war arcades, yeah."

"Oh, man." MacCready grinned. "There was this one I found once in the Capital Wasteland, mostly broken down of course, but it had one working machine in it. The Red Menace Whac-a-Commie. Someone took the whackers ages ago, but the little Red Menace guys still popped up and down. Duncan- my son- loved it."

Arcade chuckled. "Yeah, they're... they're fun. I found a Hoop Shot once, but the basketballs were all dried-up and flat."

"Gotta get yourself a Pip-Boy," MacCready replied, nudging the sole survivor's shoulder affectionately. "This one has a collection of mini-games for theirs. Atomic Command, Grognak & the Ruby Ruins, Pipfall... all the greats. Oh, I'm MacCready, by the way."

Valentine: "Nick Valentine. Pleased to meet you." Nick shook the man's extended hand with practiced warmth, giving him time to realize the metal grasp he offered was not a cybernetic, and the scar around his jawline was actually just where his synthetic skin ended.

True to form, the stranger's eyebrows shot up, his grip slackened and his mouth dropped open. "You're a... what are you?"

Nick gave him the standard line. "I'm a detective. But, if you're referring to the plastic and platinum bits, I'm also a synthetic man. All the parts, minus a few red blood cells."

"Whoa." Instead of the typical scramble to put some distance between the two of them, Nick was surprised to find Arcade's handshake tighten again at this explanation. "I've heard of people like you, but never thought I'd actually meet one. Er, well, one that was obviously living as a synth. Though I guess you don't have much of a choice, huh?"

Piper: "Arcade? Piper Wright." The reporter shook the newcomer's hand firmly. "So, what's your story? What brings you to the Great Green Jewel of the Commonwealth?"

"I uh..." Arcade looked flustered, despite Piper's encouraging smile.

The sole survivor came to his defense. "Leave him be, Piper, he just got into town," they scolded playfully.

"What?" Piper asked innocently. "Can't the town reporter ask questions around here without everyone telling me I'm being too nosy?"

"No."

"Town reporter?" Arcade perked up. "Is that your newspaper, on the way in? Public... something?"

"Publick Occurrences," Piper answered with pride. "Covering anything and everything worth hearing about that happens in the Commonwealth."

Preston: "Welcome to Diamond City, Arcade." Preston shook the man's hand warmly. "I'm Preston Garvey with the Commonwealth Minutemen."

"Minutemen?" Arcade asked, clearly unfamiliar with the term.

"We're citizen soldiers," Preston explained. "The people of the Commonwealth banding together to protect ourselves and decide our own future."

"So sort of like a free state?" Arcade straightened up. "Or do you have some kind of command structure?"

"Command structure." Preston chuckled and glanced at the sole survivor. "You're looking at it."

Strong: "Strong need to get moving," the super mutant replied, rubbing his big hands together. "Milk of human kindness not here."

Arcade took the mutant in with the air of someone who had dealt with somewhat-friendly specimens before. "I can ask the bartender if they have brahmin milk."

The sole survivor waved him off. "No, that's not what he-"

"Puny humans do not have milk!" Strong cut in.

"Wait, milk of human kindness?" Arcade looked confused. "Is that... Macbeth?"

The sole survivor sighed. "It's a long story."

X6-88: "Good afternoon." Rather than sit down, X6-88 adopted a protective stance of the sole survivor, completely ignoring the hand Arcade was offering. "I hope you know that if harm comes to this individual, your life will come to a swift end."

"Uh-huh." Arcade retracted his hand. "Bodyguard?"

"Of a sort."

Arcade turned to the sole survivor instead. "Is he always this much of a stick in the mud?"

They shrugged. "He's protective and slow to trust. Give him a bit and keep your hands where he can see them, you'll be fine."

X6-88 nodded. "Affirmative."

BONUS!

Ada: "Hello sir." Ada nodded her head in greeting. "I am Ada. I hope you are enjoying your stay in Diamond City. Did you experience any trouble getting to the stadium?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Arcade replied. "Sorry, you're an amalgamation I haven't seen before. Sentry bot and protectron parts for sure, but your head is..."

"An assaultron," Ada filled in helpfully. "I take it your region does not have many of these bots?"

"No, they seem to be more of an East Coast thing."

"Just don't get on her bad side," the sole survivor joked. "You don't want to be on the receiving end of an assaultron laser."

Gage: "Well hi there!" Porter shook Arcade's hand forcefully. "Porter Gage. Talked you into trying some of this swill, did they? Brave soul."

"It's not so bad," Arcade replied with a smirk.

"Oh sure, if you're lucky enough to have Scarlett bring it to you." Porter winked at the waitress, who paused in her service to flip him the bird.

"Mmm, not my type," Arcade admitted.

"Not your ty-" Porter blurted before putting two and two together. "Oh, gotcha. Well, there's always Hawthorne."

The raider waved to the adventurer in the corner, who waved back. Arcade sank as deeply into his stool as he could and blushed.

Longfellow: "Mmm." Old Longfellow rejected Arcade's handshake and took the offered seat, swinging around to face the bar. "Storm's comin' soon. Can smell it."

"Then it's a good thing we're inside," Arcade replied, his tone unsure.

Longfellow grunted his agreement and accepted the drink Vadim slid to him, downing it quickly.

The sole survivor scowled at him. "Guess he's not in a talkative mood today."

Maxson: "Elder Arthur Maxson of the East Coast Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel." Maxson shook Arcade's hand confidently.

Arcade, on the other hand, looked like he was being violently pulled between an instinct to flee and an intense curiosity. Curiosity won out. "Maxson? Of the line of Captain Roger Maxson?"

"High Elder Roger Maxson," the Elder corrected him. "You know of him?"

"Well sure, everybody on the West Co-" Arcade stopped himself. "Never mind. What's an Elder doing in a dive like this?"

Maxson studied him intently, clearly sizing him up. "Shore leave," he finally answered, sliding into the offered seat.

Desdemona: Desdemona smiled coolly. "I know."

The answer took Arcade aback, but the sole survivor just rolled their eyes. "Dispense with the power plays for once, Dez. We're just trying to have a drink."

The Railroad leader raised an eyebrow, but she sat down. "Suit yourself. When did you arrive in town, Mr. Gannon?"

"Oh, for the love of..."

Arcade eyed her suspiciously. "I don't remember telling you my full name."

Desdemona lit up a cigarette. "You didn't. But I'm by far the friendliest person in the Commonwealth who's wondering why a Follower of the Apocalypse is all the way out here, across the continent."

[angst-fairygodmother]

Light Fingers (The Umbrella Academy)

Diego’s vigilantism brings him repeatedly across the path of a young cat burglar. But as he finds himself developing feelings for the thief, he begins to wonder if there’s more to her than meets the eye, and whether they’re really on opposite sides. And as their relationship deepens, it brings with it a plot involving his estranged adopted father, and threatens to destroy all of them.

EPILOGUE: A HOUSE DIVIDED

Word Count: 1451 Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Reader Rating: T Content Warnings: swearing, references to violence (canon-typical), heavy angst  Cross-posted to AO3: here

Previous Chapter: Darkness Falls || Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has stuck by me, read, reblogged, commented, messaged. I don’t know where I’d be without all of you (probably still back at chapter 3). While this is the end of Light Fingers, it is not the end of the story. I just need to take a little time and approach canon with care.

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A week of radio silence followed that night. As the days went by, you tried your best to return to your normal, to waiting tables and bantering with kitchen staff and trying to pretend you weren’t holding yourself together by a thread. 

Something immediately felt off as you entered the apartment one night after a double shift and dropped your keys by the door. Conjuring enough light to see and no more, you began creeping through the room. It didn't take long to see that all of Diego's things were gone - except Duncan, the dog snoozing blissfully on the couch. You weren’t surprised. After all, if he’d wanted to put things back together, or thought you could, he would have reached out before now. So instead he had quickly and quietly removed his presence from your apartment, and very likely walked out of your life without a word. The thought stung, that for all you had intertwined your lives, he was still able to remove himself in a day. 

The light on your answering machine was blinking, and numbly you hit the button and listened to Patch’s message. 

~

“Thank you for finally returning my call,” Eudora said exasperatedly, as she took a seat across from you in the little cafe the following Sunday.

“Sorry Dora,” you offered her a sheepish and regretful half-smile. “I haven’t really felt like seeing anyone lately. Besides, I didn’t want to put you in an awkward place. I know you and Diego were, are…”

“Close? The three of us all were. Why do you think I’ve been trying to reach you?”

You looked down, tracing the wood grains of the tabletop. “There’s no fixing this one, Dora. We’re...too far gone.”

“How? You two were good for each other. A blind man could see it.”

“Irreconcilable differences.”

“We both know that’s bullshit, Y/N.”

“I...made a choice. One Diego couldn’t agree with. We fought about it. And when he decided to walk out, I not only let him, I practically packed his bags. And in the end it turned out to be pointless anyway.”

Yesterday’s paper had contained an article about how the investigation into Reginald had been dropped for lack of foundation, and he’d been able to collect a substantial insurance payout for the warehouse, and the feds had offered an official statement of apology on top of everything else. You had scared a local alley cat with the tantrum that had followed reading that. Because of course, trying to take him down had cost you everything and he’d still won in the end. How else could it have gone?

“Why do I bother,” Eudora sighed with a frustrated gesture. “I should have known you’d be just as cryptic as he was.”

“It’s complicated, Dora, so it’s easier than trying to explain and sounding completely nuts. I wish I could tell you. But the details don’t really matter, just that I fucked up, big time, and I can’t undo it.”

She reached across the table to take one of your fidgeting hands in her own. “Y/N. Listen to me. I know you and I know Diego. It’s not too late for the two of you. I can tell how much you both still care.”

“It’s not about that,” you struggled to keep back your tears. “We just weren’t meant to be. Forcing it will only break things worse.”

You winced, the words sounding harsh and a little bit fake. But they were true, or at least that’s what you wanted to convince yourself of so that you could move on. 

“Besides, he came by when I was at work and took all his stuff. Doesn’t that pretty much scream final?”

“I’ve talked to him, Y/N. I’ve seen him. He’s really messed up. And I don't think he's eating much or sleeping at all if I'm being honest.”

“Why are you telling me this?” your voice trembled, heart breaking with every word. 

“You could find him, probably at the Lion,” she fixed you with a look and tilted her head to one side. “You could talk to him.”

You shook your head. “There's nothing left to say.” 

“You're really giving up that easily?”

You wanted to scream, or to somehow explain that it was anything but easy. But that it was the right thing to do. For Diego’s sake. He, and she, would understand someday, you had to believe that.

“Eudora, please.”

“Fine. If neither of you is going to fight for this, I guess I should just deliver you his message.”

Despite yourself, your heart leapt at the idea Diego actually had something left to say. And then it plummeted a moment later when you realized that whatever it was, he couldn’t say himself, he had to ask your mutual best friend to do it for him. 

“I’m sorry, that you’re stuck in the middle. You don’t...have to be our carrier pigeon. If you don’t want to,” you said sheepishly, shrugging slightly. 

“If I don’t, you wouldn’t communicate at all.”

“That might--”

“If you say it’s for the best, I will walk out,” Eudora snapped, making you reel back in shock. “I hate the cryptic non-answers, but at least it’s not full-on lying to me. So don’t start.” 

You swallowed down whatever you were going to say and sighed. “You said you had a message from Diego?”

“He asked me to give you these,” she laid a set of keys on the table. “Said the apartment was your home and he’d never dream of trying to take it in whatever divorce papers you end up filing. And that he picked up his things, which I know you saw. Anything he left behind, he said, is not important.”

You looked down at the keys, letting some of the tears you’d fought so hard against fall. 

‘He left me behind,’ you wanted to say. ‘He left us.’ But that wouldn’t be fair, or help anything, so you bit your tongue. 

“Y/N,” she sounded apologetic but you could tell she no more knew the words to say than you did. Instead after a moment, she carried on. “He also said that a gym is no place for a boxer, which I think was him trying to make a joke, and that at least if you keep Duncan, he’ll know there’s someone watching your back and making sure you come home.”

You couldn’t help your snort of disbelief or the bitter tone of your response. “As if I’m the one to worry about there, not him with his stupid vigilante crime-fighting bullshit. I only ever got involved in that because of him, for him.” Somehow, that was the thing that opened the floodgates and you began to cry in earnest. “Fuck, Dora. He’s going to get himself killed someday.”

She reached over to take your hand again, giving it a comforting squeeze. Silence reigned over you for a few minutes, while she let you cry it out and offered you quiet support. 

“He won’t,” she said, eventually. “We both know he’s careful, and insanely lucky. And…” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’m not going to leave him completely on his own. I’m in line for an early promotion, and then I’ll be able to have people looking out for him.”

You offered her a watery smile, almost laughing. “I don’t know what I’d do, or either of us would, without you.”

She shrugged. “Good thing you won’t ever find out.”

The rest of the conversation flowed naturally, as it always did, or nearly so. After a few stinted failures to start, you carried on as if it was any other coffee date. As you were paying your bills, the light caught the silver band still on your finger. You bit your lip, slowly sliding it off, its weight heavy in your palm despite how slim, how small it was.

“Eudora, can I ask one more favor?” you asked hesitantly.

“Of course, Y/N. What are friends for?” she said, offering you a smile.

You held the ring out to her. “Can you give this to Diego for me? And tell him that I’m sorry. And I still love him. No, actually, don’t tell him that. Just...that he should have this back, and I hope that maybe someday, I can be the person he saw who deserved it. Or something like that. I don’t know. It sounds stupid, doesn’t it?” You shook your head, swiping at more tears that were threatening to spill. 

She flashed you a sympathetic half-smile. “I’ll give him your message.” 

Your fingers shook as you passed the ring over to her, a heavy weight of true finality settling over you.

[sunflowerandco]

After the Fact: Act II

Act I

Rating: M for depictions of sex. Now edited not to be explicit.

          It all made perfect sense to him. Their closeness, his need for her, and immense feelings about her that he couldn't ignore formed those clouds of truth again.

-Senior Year-

          Their cumulus forms became more noticeable as they collected moments that may have seemed simple. Still, they weakened the image he had of himself. A persona that wasn't capable of ever having these feelings.

          He needed Courtney to know, and the truths that clouded his mind didn't care about the perfectly crafted image Duncan cared to maintain.

          An image Courtney saw right through.

          "I love you...so fucking much." His words were delivered in between hitched breaths. The grip he had on her hips tightened while he had her take deeper strokes over and over. He could feel himself getting closer to his peak.

          Courtney's mind could only imagine feeling the same way. She heard herself say "I love you, too," in between whimpers.

          It wasn't long after these confessions that Courtney sunk deeper onto him. Deep, warm waves rippled through her lower body as her moans reached their cap. She began grinding in him in a desperate need to ride her peak out. Duncan held her by her waist, making her climax last as long as it could.

          Seeing Courtney at her most unconstrained dissolved all tension in him. He sat up slowly until their foreheads were touching, their panting out of sync with each other. Their lips brushed lightly, and life magnets they leaned in and closed the gap of light that peered through Duncan’s curtains. Their deep kiss ended when Courtney sought out a new position, lying next to him on his bed.

         She was still basking in their glow; enjoying the privilege of not rushing to put on the first piece of clothing she saw right after the act. That's when Duncan got up and headed towards the bathroom. She unashamedly caught glimpses of him as he made his way out. She heard sink water running when she lied on her back again.

         Courtney sighed in content, feeling the most relaxed she's ever felt.

         Then it hits her. The very thoughts he confessed to her. Those three words.

         He... loves you?

         She tried her best to shake this feeling. She knew Duncan. Their feelings being mutual wasn't the most outrageous concept to themselves or anyone who spent 5 minutes in a room with them. But love? Courtney couldn't remember the last time Duncan used that word about anything. She assumed he said it in an intense moment of lust, and that he must’ve forgotten by now. She decided.

          She heard the faucet turn off and footsteps toward the door, and Duncan came back with a wet, warm rag.

          "Here, babe," Duncan offered as he removed the bedsheet from her body.

          Courtney's legs were still weak when he parted them to wipe down and around her folds with the cloth. She lied still, frozen by her own realized fears.

          Duncan tried to read an unclear expression on her face. It was almost blank. “Hey... you okay, Princess?” Courtney did her best to ruin this train of thought that left her detached from reality.

          “Yeah. I’m okay. Everything’s okay over here.” Duncan looked unconvinced. Still, he knew you couldn’t force Courtney to do anything until she was ready. He still couldn’t help but feel like he was at fault. All he could do was try to change the subject at hand. But Courtney added on to speak over her lingering thoughts. 

          "Actually, I think I should go home. I don't need my parents worrying about me." Duncan retreated.

          "Alright. My parents should be back soon, too. I'll drive you-"

          "That's okay. I can walk." Courtney reassured him as she gathered her clothes. 

          She let herself out when she finished getting dressed, leaving Duncan concerned and confused.                                                                                                                                          ***

          Courtney practically slammed her locker shut before looking both ways. She successfully avoided Duncan for the rest of the weekend and hoped to do so for the rest of the school day. Upon turning right she saw her friend, Bridgette, at the other end of the hall in front of an empty classroom.

           Bridgette spotted her as well and waved across the her, beckoning Courtney over.

           "Hey, Bridge. Have you seen Duncan today?"

           "Hey, Court, no. I haven't seen him all day. I'm pretty sure he just skipped with Geoff." Bridgette trailed off before remembering Courtney’s plans for last weekend.. "So... how did it go on Saturday?" She asked while playfully poking her.

            Courtney delayed her answer when she grabbed Bridgette's arm and into the empty classroom before shutting the door. She readjusted the bag on her shoulder before locking the door behind her. Her actions caused a look of concern on her friend's face.

          Bridgette sat on top of one of the desks. "I take it didn't go well? What happened?"

          Courtney paced back and forth in short steps before she answered half-heartedly. "Duncan told me he loved me, and I said it back."

          "Oh my gosh!" Bridgette exclaimed. She half-jokingly threw a fist in the air. "Finally! That's so great!" Bridgette smiled through and through, but Courtney's look of uncertainty remained. "Why aren't we smiling?"

          "Well, he said it while we were having sex and..." Courtney trailed off. "What if he just said it because I took my clothes off for him?"

          "Woah, Courtney. You're getting way too ahead of yourself. This is Duncan we're talking about. The guy's had a crush since, like, 7th grade." Bridgette waited for a counterargument from her best friend. "You can always just, you know, ask him?"

          Courtney groaned at the suggestion. "That'll just make me look weird and clingy." She stared into her shoes as she thought of all the possible ways she could be perceived, all of them being out of her control.

          Bridgette couldn't help but give an all-knowing smile. "Oh my gosh. You really, really Love him. I mean, loooove."

          Courtney gave Bridgette a solemn look. "Now is not the time for you to rub in how right you are! Why does love make me so dumb?!"

          Bridgette hopped off the desk she was sitting on and held Courtney by her shoulders. "It doesn't make you dumb, Courtney! You need to accept your feelings for what they are. You both made pretty bold statements to each other. It's okay to ask given the situation. Okay?"

         Courtney took a deep breath before Bridgette loosened her grip on her shoulders. All she could do was nod in agreement. She couldn't argue her way out of this one, and didn't want to. She had truly had enough fighting with herself. She had to give herself a break.

         Bridgette walked her out of the classroom. The hallways were emptier than they last left them. She offered Courtney a ride home, and they made their way out to the school parking lot. They opened the door to see a familiar car parked in front the entrance. Courtney turned back towards the entrance doors, but was quickly caught by Bridgette by the arm. She gently pulled Courtney in the direction of the car. The driver rolled down the window and Bridgette leaned down into it with Courtney caught onto her grip behind her. She heard his voice as Bridgette greeted him.

        Punk rock blared on the radio before it was dialed down, and Courtney looked in through the window to see him sitting there. "Hey, Bridge. Need a ride?"

        "No, but she does." Bridgette gestured to Courtney. She stood straight again to pull Courtney towards the passenger side. Courtney opened the door herself, giving her friend a glare before settling down on the seat. She continued to look towards the windshield without saying so much as a 'bye.' The blonde smiled nonetheless and shut the door for her. She buckled herself in as Bridgette walked towards her own car, and she heard her yell from a distance.

       "See you tomorrow, Courtney! Love you!" Duncan turned on the ignition to make his way to her house.

                                                       ***

          A long ride in silence opposed the advice Bridgette gave Courtney. She had never let fear rule her more than this moment. Duncan pulled onto her street and stopped the engine.

         “Okay, well, see you tomorrow?” He asked in a self-conscious manner, 

         Courtney still faced forward as she answered quietly. “Yeah, see ya. Goodnight.”

         Duncan found he couldn't do anything to make her talk, so he called it a night. Still, he needed her to know. “Okay. I love you, Courtney.”

         Courtney started grabbing her bag and cardigan from the backseat. She responded out of frustration before realizing what he said to her. "I love you, too - wait," she turned her face back toward Duncan for the first time today, her ears increasingly getting warmer. "You meant that?"

         Duncan's brow furrowed before answering. "That I love you? …Yes...? Why would I not mean it?"

         Courtney sat back down in the passenger seat, looking back him again, this time with diffidence laced in her words.  "I don't know... people can say anything in the heat of the moment."

         "Heat of the..." It was then Duncan realized what she was indicating. She looked away. "Let me get this straight. You think I told you that I love you just because we were having sex?" Courtney couldn't admit it, she only sat in silence.

         "Look, Courtney. I meant it. Every word I said. I wouldn't say something like that just to fuck you over. You're..." Duncan trailed off.

         "What? I'm what?"

         Duncan gripped the steering wheel with one of his hands and looked around. "...You're too important for me to lose, Princess. I love you. And I'll say it anytime I want."

         Courtney sat still, but her heartbeat thumped heavy in her chest.

         Duncan pushed her a little. He knew the answer, but still asked. "Well? Do you love me?"

         Courtney turned to him once again. She threw her arms up in surrender. "What? Yes, I love you! I can't remember a time I didn't!" Courtney crossed her arms in a habitual attempt to barricade herself emotionally.

         Duncan inched closer to Courtney, adding fuel to her flame. "And I can't either!" He gestured to himself What's so wrong with that?" His voice took to a deeper, serious tone. "I don't know about you, but hearing that on both ends makes me think we're doing something right. Like I'm doing right by you. Did I do something wrong?"

         Courtney sighed. She could acknowledge this was a product of her own overthinking. "No, not really. I don't know what got into me. I just knew I had these feelings, and I realized that... I'm in deep." She looked down onto her lap. "I knew I wouldn't be okay if it all disappeared one day."

         Duncan placed a hand on her shoulder. "We're gonna do our best to make sure that doesn't happen."

         "Come here." Duncan cupped her chin and placed his lips on top of hers. She joined in the beguiling pattern of his lips drawing out every kiss to be longer and deeper than the last. Courtney sighed into his lips. She felt her hands go through his mohawk as their slow motions began to pick up the pace.

         Duncan placed his hand on her thigh, surpassing the hem of her skirt while his other hand found her lower back. His hand slipped underneath her shirt and Courtney shivered at his touch, and Duncan smiled into the kiss, reveling in the effect he had on her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as an invitation to be pulled in closer. He gripped the back of her thighs to lift her onto his lap. She was halfway there when-

         HOOOONK!

         Courtney practically jumped out of her skin screaming and Duncan frightfully yanked his arm away from the horn. She landed back onto the passenger seat clutching her chest. In between getting the shit scared out of her and the breathlessness of their consolidation, Courtney found herself laughing. Duncan took notice to her loosening up and felt relief. Courtney looked over her shoulder at her house, and noticed one of the lights in her parent's bedroom turn on.

         "I should go in before they chew us out." Courtney calmed her giggles down and gave Duncan a kiss on his cheek. She draped her bag over her shoulder and looked at him one more time. "I love you, delinquent.

         "I love you, too, Princess."

         He watched her to make sure she made it inside her house. She closed the door shut, and Duncan felt himself smiling like an idiot.

A/N: Hello! Quick question: Am I making them too soft? I tried to make them vulnerable because having sex in a new relationship with a person you've only shown one side to can be a scary thing, so they're not gonna be their love/hate selves after they've shown how serious they are about each other. I don't know. If you think they're out of character, let me know and I'll try my best to fix that. See ya in act iii!

[underthewingsofthblackeagle]

Foto: Panorama Helsinki / Finland - Dom und Parlamentsplatz (by tap5a)

“We only do this for Fergus!” is a short Outlander Fan Fiction story and my contribution to the Outlander Prompt Exchange (Prompt 3: Fake Relationship AU: Jamie Fraser wants to formally adopt his foster son Fergus, but his application will probably not be approved... unless he is married and/or in a committed relationship. Enter one Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp (Randall?) to this story) @outlanderpromptexchange​

Chapter 1: Life offers you many surprises

Berlin, Französische Straße Friday, 25 July 2025, 8.50 a.m.

         Five minutes earlier, Claire Elisabeth Beauchamp had entered the large, light gray house, built in the neo-Renaissance style that dominated the whole Forum Fridericianum. In the lobby, which was dominated by marble and dark wood, Claire was greeted by a receptionist. She was asked to sit down for a moment in one of the dark leather armchairs, of which four were grouped around an elegant round table. As she waited, her eyes wandered up the high walls of the entrance hall. A few steps of a staircase led out of the hall through a large glass door that ended in a round arch at the top, reminiscent of a gate entrance. Above it was a large ornament of dark stones inlaid in the light marble. The ornament showed a circle, which, as it seemed, was formed from a belt. The words "Je suis prest" could be read in the curve of the circle and in the center of the ornament was the head of a stately stag, which looked directly at the observer.

“Französische Straße Berlin” by Jörg Zägel / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)

         Claire knew that the French motto meant "I am ready!", but just as she was wondering what the sign meant, an older lady approached her. She introduced herself as Mrs. Fitz-Gibbons. This employee, whose blue costume gave the impression of a uniform, led Claire down various small staircases and long corridors to the room where she was now sitting. Wherever they had gone in this house, it had been extremely quiet. The heavy, dark red carpets that covered all the stairs and hallways, had swallowed every sound of their footsteps. Now she sat in a room whose furnishings were characterized by dark wood and light brass and whose dimensions were more like those of a hall. But it was the antechamber of the CEO’s office of "Fraser & Son International" and behind the large double-winged door that Claire was now looking at was the study of Dr. James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, one of the country's leading business owners.         Until two weeks ago, Claire did not know the man's name or that of his company. She didn't care about the gossip press, which also reported on the local "high society" in Berlin. But then Geillis Duncan, her best friend, came by one evening and showed her a job ad from the "Wirtschaftswoche" newspaper. At first Claire was completely surprised. How did Geillis, who loved to read the gossip press, come to show her an ad from Germany's leading weekly magazine for managers?

         "Dave left it on the kitchen table, and since I didn't have anything else at hand, I looked into it while having breakfast. But now take a look at this job ad!"

Geillis had emphatically pointed to an ad that featured the same ornament as the one she had seen in the lobby.          Claire had started reading. A pedagogically trained caregiver was needed for an almost seven-year-old child. The woman should speak fluent German, English and French. Further foreign language skills were welcome but not required. Furthermore, an extensive general education and an impeccable curriculum vitae (i.e. no entries in the Federal Central Crime Register) were expected. Special emphasis was placed on the knowledge and practice of the literature written by Adolph Freiherr Knigge. Three times the current monthly salary was offered, 30 days paid vacation, free board and lodging, private health insurance 1st class.

         "Just imagine Claire!" the girlfriend had exclaimed enthusiastically, "If you got this job and worked there for a few years, all your problems would be solved!”

         Geillis was right, well, almost. Surely not all her problems would be solved. But the financial problems she had to deal with could at least be significantly reduced by this job. She had to acknowledge that and so Claire, Geillis and her friend Dave met that very evening to write a letter of application. Dave, who worked for a large media company at Potsdamer Platz, immediately agreed to help her with his knowledge. The next day, Claire had sent off the application. Then she had bought an updated edition of "The Knigge" and started reading it. Shortly after, Geillis came and brought her a large pile of current newspaper clippings so Claire could learn all she needed to know about the person of James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser and the family business he ran.

         She learned a lot about the company from various business magazines, but the person of James Fraser seemed almost like a phantom. It seemed to her that this man also didn't care about the so-called "high society" and obviously he didn't deliver any headlines to the gossip press. There was neither an article about him nor a photo of him on the company's homepage. Even a Wikipedia article with his name only gave the basic data (birthday, place of birth, family, studies) and otherwise dealt more with the globally active company. "Fraser & Son International" was one of the few family-owned companies that to this day had no shareholders and, having invested in a wide range of economic sectors, not only survived the financial crisis of 2008 well, but had even emerged from it stronger. In this Wikipedia article, however, there was a photo by James Fraser. It showed him with a group of business leaders at a national conference. However, this picture was over eight years old and also very pixelated. At some point everything turned in Claire's head and she hoped that she had not learned all this information for nothing. If she would at least be invited for a job interview.          Ten days later, she hadn't dared to hope that she would ever hear of Fraser & Son International, and to her surprise, her smartphone rang just before the lunch break began. A Dr. Ned Gowan called on behalf of the company, explained that he was the lawyer for "Fraser & Son International" and asked if she could come for an interview at the company's headquarters two days later at 9:00 am. She told him that she had to ask her department head to give her time off first and would call back. As the summer vacation period was over, it was no problem to get a day off and so she called Dr Gowan fifteen minutes later and agreed to meet him (and Dr. Fraser!) two days later. Claire had to be extremely restrained not to cheer out loud. This would have immediately drawn the attention of her colleagues in the department, and she definitely did not want to tell them about it. During lunch break, she left the clinic and sat down on a bench in a nearby park. From there she called Geillis and told her the good news. Right after the end of her shift, the friends met in the parking lot of the clinic to go into town together and pick out a suitable "outfit" for Claire's job interview. Geillis, who had worked as a freelance fashion consultant for many years before she met "the rich Dave", dragged her friend directly to the fashion department of the KaDeWe. There, after a while, they found a muted dark green business costume that emphasized Claire's figure but still looked respectable.

“Kaufhaus des Westens (KaDeWe) - Foto by Avi1111 dr. avishai teicher / CC BY-SA (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)

         "That's perfect," exclaimed Geillis as Claire stepped out of the dressing room.          "Yes, perfectly too expensive for me. Have you seen the price?"          "Don't worry about that," Geillis replied. Then she whispered:          "I'll pay for it. If the job doesn't work out, we'll just give it back afterwards. And if you get the job and want to keep it, you'll give me the money back when you get your first salary.”

         They bought the costume and also a matching blouse and shoes. Claire was not allowed to think about the amount of money they had spent within a few hours or she would get sick.          But that was all forgotten at that moment. Now it was time to concentrate and make a good impression.          Mrs. Fitz-Gibbons had led her into this room and instructed her to use one of the twelve large brown leather armchairs. With the words          "You will be called in when it is your turn,"          she had said goodbye.          Claire had taken a seat and scanned the room as inconspicuously as possible. Seven other women sat in leather armchairs of the same type, which were set up on three side walls of the room, each separated by a small table. On the tables were glasses and bottles of mineral water, but none of the other women had made use of them. Claire had not intended to drink anything either. She was far too excited to drink, and she was afraid that she might have to go to the bathroom in the middle of her upcoming job interview. Slowly, her gaze wandered across the light-colored carpet to that large, two-winged mahogany wooden door. On each of the wings was a coat of arms, divided into four sections. On the upper left and the lower right quarter were three white flowers on a blue background. The upper right and the lower left quarter each showed three red, pointed crowns on a white background. Behind this door, Claire assumed, must be the director's room. What would she expect there? She did not know. Why had she only gotten involved in this thing that Geilis Duncan had suggested to her? Out of desperation? She wasn't sure. Only one thing was sure: she had never thought that she would have to have another job interview at the age of almost 30. But that was her life. Much of what had happened in her life had not been planned, nor had she ever expected her life to be like that.          Claire Elisabeth Beauchamp, almost divorced Randall, had lost her parents in a car accident when she was five years old. For the next fifteen years she was raised in the loving care of her uncle 'Lamb'. Dr. Quentin Lambert Beauchamp, an archaeologist and Egyptologist whose research focus was on the Old Kingdom of Egypt and who was highly revered by his students, came to Berlin in 2015, where he taught at Humboldt University in the last years before his retirement. There Claire had also met her future husband, Dr. Frank Randall. He had been assigned to her uncle as a research assistant. Randall had courted her like no man before and they had already married in May 2016. The first four years of their marriage had gone in a way that Claire would still describe as happy today. Although, she was no longer quite so sure. What did happiness actually mean? Was there a definition for this term? And even if there was a definition for the term "happiness", was it really valid for all people? In any case, the first four years of her marriage had not been very negative. Together they had made regular trips to Paris, Madrid, Prague, Budapest, Dubrovnik, Palermo, Venice, Turin, Marseille, Amsterdam, Florence, Milan, Barcelona and Bruges.

“Palermo/Sizilien” by  nataliaaggiato 

         Claire enjoyed getting to know these cities and experiencing their cultural particularities. When Lambert Beauchamp died unexpectedly in February 2019 as a result of a stroke, Frank had been kind and, in her opinion, very sensitive to her needs. But in the spring of 2020, a strange development had set in with him. At first Claire had blamed it on the effects of the corona pandemic. After the start of the lockdown, Frank was mainly at home, giving lectures via Zoom and otherwise writing a new book on the history of the Scottish Jacobite uprising in 1745. Claire, on the other hand, was working as a nurse in the children's clinic of Berlin's Charité hospital, as she had been before the crisis. Frank had insisted that Claire should give up her job. The possibility that she could become infected with the virus seemed too high to him. But Claire could not bring it over her heart to leave her fellow nurses alone, especially in such a severe time, and thanks to the strictly observed precautions she got through this difficult time without any problems. While she could be happy about the successes in her profession, the problems in her marriage with Frank seemed to become bigger and bigger. At some point, she felt that Frank was becoming more and more monosyllabic and that they were drifting apart rapidly. But evem then she thought this was a temporary phase that would end after the pandemic at the latest. At least she hoped so. When a vaccine against the virus was finally found in July 2021 and became available in December 2021, Claire breathed a sigh of relief. She and Frank would get vaccinated and then they could travel again. This would change Frank's mind and make her marriage blossom again. But it all turned out differently. Once they were vaccinated, Frank suddenly didn't feel like traveling anymore. Again and again he put off his work. Regularly he worked until late at night at the university and sometimes he spent whole nights there. It was always about important analyses, which he published in specialist publications and for which there were tight deadlines. Even on evenings when Claire was off, he was rarely at home, and whenever she tried to initiate a little marital tenderness, he was too tired for that. In the spring of 2022, they had slept together for the last time. A few months later, Frank had stopped kissing her goodbye, as he usually did when he left the house.          What happened then had the potential to throw her completely off track. By the fall of 2022, a hunch that Claire had suppressed again and again had been confirmed. Frank had a mistress. When she returned from her work at the children's hospital one evening in October, she saw Frank saying goodbye to a slender blonde at the door of their shared house, kissing her intensely. She stood there frozen. Everything inside her urged her to turn around and run away. But then the anger that built up within her gained the upper hand. Like a burning ray that shot out of her stomach through her whole body, he took a breath. She ran to the front door, unlocked it and found Frank standing at the sink in the kitchen, where he was just rinsing out two wine glasses. He turned to her in surprise, but before he could say a word, Claire's purse hit him in the left half of his face with full force. Frank had lost his balance and had fallen over. His glasses had come off his head and had broken when he hit the kitchen floor. Claire no longer knew what insults she had used to call him. Frank had picked himself up and collected the parts of his glasses. He had not even set out to explain the situation or apologize.Claire would not have listened to him either. She had turned on her foot and had run into the shared bedroom. When she arrived there, she had taken Frank's bed linen, run back downstairs with it and threw it all into his study. Then she ran back into the bedroom again and locked herself inside. She did not know how long she had cried angrily. But before she had fallen asleep, she had made a plan. The next morning she went on the morning shift. During a break she called a lawyer and that same afternoon she went to see her to discuss the formalities of a divorce.

“Brille” by  jottbe

         Frank had had the injuries Claire had inflicted on him treated, but had not reported them to the police. It was only later that he let it show that he had orchestrated the whole situation. He had simply been too cowardly to have a conversation with her about a divorce, as two adults normally do. He probably wanted to make her feel guilty, too. Claire was convinced of that, at least. Frank had always been against her going back to work. When she accepted the job at the children's hospital a year after their wedding, he had expressed himself very negatively about it. What kind of impression would it leave on his colleagues if the wife of a prospective professor went to work? And in the last year of their marriage he had not missed any opportunity to tell her how much he felt neglected.            It took three months before Claire was able to move into a small room in one of the Charité nurses' homes. During these three months she did everything she could to avoid Frank as much as possible. Anything she couldn't take with her to the nurses' home, she stored in her friend Geillis Duncan's basement. Claire hoped that the divorce would be finalized in October 2023 after the obligatory year of separation and that she could finally start a new life. But this time, too, everything turned out differently than she had hoped.          It was a rainy autumn day in September 2023 and it was to be the last day in the life of Dr. Frank Randall. On a country road near Lübeck, where he had attended a conference for historians, Frank's car skidded for some unknown reason. The car broke through the barrier and then came to a halt in a field. There it was discovered the next morning by a farmer. When the police arrived at the scene of the accident, Dr. Frank Randall was strapped in the seat belt and sat in the driver's seat as if nothing had happened. He was uninjured and even still wearing his hat. But Frank Randall was dead. An autopsy performed later revealed that Frank had had a heart attack that caused him to lose control of the car, causing it to veer off the road. It was, as the police later said, very lucky that no other car had been hit. Claire was shaken.

“Lübeck”  by scholty1970 

         But an even greater shock struck her on the day of the reading of the will. On that day, the notary told her that she would not inherit any money, only debts from Frank. Her still-husband had bought a condominium for his mistress for 250,000 euros, which he had signed over to her. For this gift Frank had gone into debt and Claire, who was still married to him by law, inherited his debts. It was one big nightmare. Although Claire had also inherited the rights to Frank's books, these reference books sold only in very manageable numbers and brought in little money. With her salary as a pediatric nurse, it would take her decades to pay off Frank's debts. Meanwhile, Sandy Travers, this  bleached ...., was sitting in her apartment, probably enjoying herself with her next lover. Once again the anger about Frank rose in Claire's heart, but before she could think about him any further, a familiar voice tore her from these thoughts. 

[inhibited-irregularity]

EUROVISION 2021, personal favorites:

- Russia 🇷🇺

Manizha, Russian Woman: Absolute favorite. The sheer originality of the song! Her energy and the level of absolute badassery! She can sing, she can rap,and she's a bomb of energy. The way reggae and brass and hiphop and Slavic melodies overlap and it somehow works, the transitions between fun and "I'm bitter about the sexism and I'm mocking it unapologetically and making a stand" and the anthemic, emphatic and powerful message to Russian women; I was swelling with emotion while watching her. While to an American or a Westerner it may seem like performative feminism, I'm gonna remind you that in Russia and other Slavic countries that's very much not a thing and actually a very unpopular stand to make, and in Russia, The Balkans, and Eastern Europe in general, hundreds of women face domestic and sexual abuse on the daily, and those who do come forward rarely get support and are mostly dismissed. Let's not forget that Manizha got a huge backlash from the Russian government officials, and a big part of it was for her Tajik roots. The honesty of her message is real, and she's speaking from personal experience and the experience of women around her - nothing performative about her song, and you can tell from her delivery that the fire within her is true and she leaves her heart on the stage and pours it into the song. The staging and costumes are great as well, and symbolically well thougt-through. I would really like her to win, or at least get to the top 5. Most of all, I hope her message is heard and felt. 10000/10

- Italy 🇮🇹

Måneskin, Zitti e Buoni: definitely the closest thing to my actual music taste this year, so liking them off the bat wasn't a surprise. However, they're not just your regular Franz-Ferdinand-ish young alt rock band that wants to do rock "properly" - they have IT. The X factor, the Je ne sais quoi. I've been exposed to that particular genre, and I can confidently say that the song still manages to be refreshing and original (that bridge, those riffs!) The band has a great energy and no matter how much Damiano steals the show, they are still a unit and nobody is left in the shadows. They have the spirit of great rock bands of the previous century, and yet they don't try to copy anyone (khm,Greta Van Fleet, khm). Damiano's vocals are both powerful, seductive and provoking, and I'm still admiring the sheer amount of emotion he can pack into a single line and the nuance and yet rawness behind it. I'm not gonna state the obvious lol (the obvious being yes, I'm thirsty as well, he becomes yet another unattainable rockstar for me too,and yes they all look great) Anyway, great song, and maybe the clearest and most serious candidate for the number one spot, taking both the jury and the public into consideration. 10/10

- Iceland 🇮🇸

Daði Freyr and Gagnamagnið, 10 years:

What can I say about this masterpiece that hasn't already been said? A clear fan-favorite (hi, Valentina), but with the guns to back it up. The song is contagious, fun and campy, and unlike some other songs with said qualities, actually good from a musical perspective. Daði is incredibly charismatic and his sense of humor shines through, and even though he's the star of the show, the same can be said about the other band members. The synergy Måneskin has can be applied to Gagnamagnið as well, even though the energy is entirely different. They're serving us fun, sunshine, kitties rainbows sugar spice and everything nice, and manage to do it with zero cringe factor (plus those funky keytars). I'm one of those Eurovision fans that lament the golden age's (2004-2009) campiness (We'll never forget you, Verka), and Daði managed to bring it back, but modernised, polished and still sincere. I personally preferred the epic dad joke that slightly more commercial Think About Thing was (but that's one tough act to follow), but I'm always down for a husband adoring his wife and singing praises to their relationship. Since we're on tumblr, I feel obliged to use the term "cinnamon rolls" in describing Daði and the band. 9.5/10

- France 🇫🇷

Barbara Pravi, Voilà: She brought the theatrics, she brought the drama, and she brought the 101 in "that's how you perform". Her personality leaps through, and her voice is both beautiful and full of emotion and power. I'd hire her to star in a serious and artistic movie. Despite the fact that Voilà is from its melody to the singing style to the video to the vibe and the aesthetic hands down the most French thing I've seen since Amélie (do not come for that movie), it miraculously doesn't come across as a cliché, but rather an homage, and an individualistic one at that. It's not entirely my cup of tea, since I'm usually biased to songs that may come off as snobbish (I mean, the jury is going to lap it up), and are all about being proper and technical and oh how ~artistic~, but Barbara puts the soul into the immaculate. I'm not giving her the highest mark because I'm yet to see the performance, but I'm rooting for her. If she delivers the performance, we might have a clear winner. 9/10

- Ukraine 🇺🇦

Go_A, Shum: I'm a sucker for all things ethnic and mytological, so this was a no-brainer. I want that song played at every party. I want to go to the forest in the video and chant and summon the spring with flute and hard-bass. Kateryna Pavlenko has some unexplainable power over me, and her eyes are simply hypnotizing. The vocals are great, proper Slavic ethno right there (seriously, check out Slavic folklore and traditional music), and she has a subtle punk quality too(?). Ukraine came to save the spring and make us forget about the pandemic, and minus the Maruv fiasco (justice for her!), they always deliver and I expected nothing less. On the other hand, I loved the original version much more and couldn't help but be a bit disappointed with the revamp (yes, I know they had to), and while I personally love Shum, I think some other acts are more deserving of the higher placement. Go_A are not my winner, but definitely soon to be in my playlist. 8/10

- San Marino 🇸🇲

Adrenalina, Senhit ft. Flo Rida: You know that golden age of Eurovision I mentioned? THIS. I'm Serbian, so I can't resist a banger reminiscent of our horrible turbo-folk elements (and I say that endearingly,takes me back to 18th birthday parties (boy I'm glad that's over)). Let's just crown Senhit this year's Queen of Camp. The wild factor of Flo Rida...just?? Amazing. Can't wait to see how the performance goes (EDIT- it went great, I had a grin on my face the entire time and couldn't help but dance along). A certain refreshment after Serhat and Valentina Monetta endless loop. They didn't dial down the weird, but made it catchy af, and the vocal can rival any Balkan folk diva. While I think it's definitely the most entertaining entry this year, it's far from being the most original, and it's not really my genre of preference. Will vote for Senhit and root for her to qualify. 7.5/ 10

- Sweden 🇸🇪

Tusse, A million voices: As I mentioned before, I'm the first person that starts complaining about Sweden Superiority as soon as Eurovision season begins, and I'm with you all with being tired of Sweden qualifying just because they're Sweden and usually just bringing the same brand of MTV/Calvin Harris/American pop, or a successful and not-so-subtle imitation of the performances that did well the previous year,but listen: A million voices is a solid pop song and I'm going to die on that hill. It actually embodies the essence of pop - a catchy, pleasant melody sung by a good vocalist, with a short,sweet and uplifting message. It's not the same as previous years, it's not commercial, just good pop - good pop being something you immediately like and vibe to no matter how many common elements of the genre it checks. It relies on RnB rather than electronic sounds, auto tune or various DJ effects. Tusse is charming and charismatic af, and he's a 19yo kid doing an amazing job on a global stage. You don't have to like it, but there's no need to hate on it (ask Jendrik). Imo, Tusse deserved to qualify. Not winner material yet, but I wish him a fun time and a successful career. 7 5/10

- Switzerland 🇨🇭

G'jons Tears, Tout L'Univers: I saw the video first, and I HATED IT. It came across as a Duncan Lawrence-high-art wannabe, something technically perfect, but empty of soul or meaning, another soft boy with a sad falsetto, another jury-points bait. BUT. I changed my mind entirely after seeing him perform. Hands down, it was touching and epic. Reminding me of Hamlet aside, he DELIVERED, and made me love him, and actually enjoy the song. I still think the song is less original than Tusse's voices, but I enjoy the troubadour vibes of the pre-chours. G'jon is absolutely adorable, and I'm not gonna be mad if he wins. 8/10

shout-outs&honorable mentions:

- Serbia 🇷🇸 Yes, some national bias, but I'm proud of our girls. Ever Since we placed 2nd with Željko's Lane, we had that goddamn flute e v e r y year, and the same outdated scenography with a side of extra pathos (I'm sure that ruined Sanja's chances and her otherwise great performance back in 2016.) Finally something fun and actually representative of the music popular here. They looked flawless and the energy was off the charts. Go, Hurricane!

-Finland 🇫🇮 Yes, cheesy and corny and I cut my finger accidentally from watching the video on all the edge, but I'm biased because they're bringing emo and nu-metal back, and that's the music of my early adolescence (hello, Kaulitz brothers and Andy Biersack,hello Gerard Way and Linkin Park) Call me grandma lol

- Malta 🇲🇹 DESTINY CAN SIIIIIIIIING! I wasn't impressed with the song initially, but the performance blew my mind.

- Ireland 🇮🇪 A for effort, and so nice of her to try and give us something unique! While it wasn't good enough to qualify, it was super fun and she seems so nice. Also, we all know that she was out of breath an can sing much better than that. Still wasn't bad.

- Romania 🇷🇴, for being so young and brave enough to put on a show. The nerves got the better of her, but the song itself is good and no doubt she'll do well in the future

- Lithuania 🇱🇹, thanks for the memeries

- Croatia 🇭🇷, Not my cup of tea, but Albina gave a great performance

-Norway 🇳🇴, for embodying the spirit of Eurovision

- North Macedonia 🇲🇰, for the disco chest

- The UK 🇬🇧, for putting some effort

(Might edit later)

[theotherjourney7]

“The Week In Tory returns for the second time in 4 days.

The weeks grow shorter, but the days last forever...

1. The consultant who advised the government to look for "alternative arrangements" on the Irish Border is in line for a £200m contract if alternative arrangements go ahead.

But to facilitate this, the government has to break international law with the Internal Market Bill (IMB)

Nobody can tell us what the "alternative arrangements" are, but the IMB passed through parliament anyway.

2. The UK’s highest-ranking law officer in Scotland resigned over the IMB

& The UK’s special envoy on media freedom, Amal Clooney (yes, that one) quit over IMB

3. The former (Tory appointed) ambassador to USA said the IMB was "hugely damaging to our international reputation"

4. Those snowflake liberal Remoaners Toby Young, Peter Hitchens and Tim Montgomerie turned on the govt over IMB. As did every living former-Prime Minister.

5. Joe Biden said there would be no UK/US Trade Deal if the IMB went ahead

But, Iain Duncan Smith said "we don’t need lectures" from Joe Biden

Trump’s special envoy to Northern Ireland also said there would be no Trade Deal

Apparently, Iain Duncan Smith does need lectures. Who knew?

6. Oh, and IMB also includes a provision allowing the government to break absolutely any law, absolutely any time!!!!!

7. Unrelated, I’m sure, but the number of "problem drinkers" in England doubled this year

So the government cut funding to alcohol addiction services

8. Dominic Raab, whose job it is to understand the Good Friday Agreement, admitted he hasn’t read the Good Friday Agreement

His excuse is: "it’s not a novel". True. Novels tend to be longer than 35 pages, aren't vital to solving conflicts that killed 3600 people

9. The Prime Minister, who literally voted to break a deal he signed with the EU, said the EU was "not negotiating in good faith"

The next morning, Northern Ireland minister and arch memo-misser Brandon Lewis went on TV and said "I believe the EU is negotiating in good faith"

10. It was revealed the Smart Freight System to handle post-Brexit trade won’t be ready until at least April 2021.

That’s at least 4 months without a freight handling system, during the time of year we rely on food imports the most

11. The Road Haulage Association said a meeting with Michael Gove to discuss border checks provided "no clarity" and was "a washout"

12. An official report says 2-day queues at Dover in January are "a certainty"

So the government closed a Covid test site in Kent, to convert it into a lorry park, in what experts (well, me) are calling "the world’s shittest game of whack-a-mole"

13. The government said people would be fined £1000 if they don’t self-isolate after getting a positive test

And then all tests ran out in the 10 worst-hit Covid hotspots

And then all home testing kits ran out, nationally

And then the website for booking tests broke, and just showed a series of error messages.

And then the government said the system was under strain because people were asking for tests when they didn’t know they were infected

So [deep breath] you must self-isolate after getting a test that doesn’t exist, and you can only get a test if you already know the result

14. Naturally, honesty no-fly-zone Home Office Secretary Priti Patel went on Radio 4 and announced tests were available everywhere and there were "no problems getting tests"

Same day - same hour, in fact - Prime Minister Boris Johnson said the testing system "has huge problems"

Jacob Rees-Mogg, who simply cannot shut up about fish, said we should stop the "endless carping" about not being tested for a fatal infection

15.Prime Minister Boris Johnson went on national TV and announced a "£100bn moonshot" approach to Covid, which would test "10m people per day"

Three days later, in front of a Parliamentary Committee, said he "didn’t recognise" the figure of 10m a day

And it was reported his half-brother is on the board of the business that would get most of the £100bn budget, which I’m sure is just a massive coincidence

Officials branded the moonshot as "Moonfuck"

16. And then Health Secretary Matt Hancock had to ask other cabinet ministers to stop referring to him as "Matt WankCock"

Despite appearances, these are not 7 year old boys

17. Food news, and Tory MP Douglas Ross said "I have seen the difference free school meals can make, and I want to make sure nobody falls through the cracks"

Douglas Ross voted against free school meals

18. Prime Minister Boris Johnson said we cannot put punitive restrictions on food imports from the EU (to force them to give up on Ireland), or we will starve

And then, minutes later, he agreed with a Brexiter MP who said we SHOULD put punitive restrictions on food imports from the EU

19. Prime Minister Boris Johnson said "I venerate our civil service" after sacking the innocent heads of multiple departments to protect friends including Gavin Williamson and Dominic Cummings. And as a result, people leaving the civil service rose 14% in a year

20. Planning-ahead news: an international conglomerate pulled out of a £16bn power project because the government hasn’t performed its part of the deal for the last 20 months

21. Funding cuts since 2010 meant the government had to inject £700m to prevent further education going bankrupt

22. This week it was found the government– which last week voted not to implement the recommendations of the Grenfell Tower Inquiry – has also failed to deliver its promise to remove the same dangerous cladding from at least 2000 tower blocks. Sleep well.

And then the government said files on Grenfell were "lost forever", after a laptop was wiped. Because everything is always stored on a single laptop. We all know this.

The government runs G-Cloud, its own dedicated cloud backup service, which has been active since 2012. So... yeah.

23. At a committee in parliament, an MP read out the Covid test figures. Dido Harding, in charge of testing, said “I’m sorry, that’s just not true, I don’t know where that number is from”

It was from her own report. Page 8. In bold type.

Dido Harding said "nobody could predict" a rise in demand for testing

Government scientists predicted it, and in a July report sent to Dido Harding – maybe it was a different one? - said "July and Aug must be a period of intense preparation for a September resurgence in Covid"

Oh, and standard advice says the NHS must always prepare for cold and respiratory infections to spike immediately after the return to school in September

Dido Harding wasted £13m on a "world-beating" testing app that cost £12.3m more than the German app, and didn’t work

She is now in charge of the test-and-trace service which has collapsed completely

So naturally, it was reported the government wants to sack the head of NHS England and install Dido Harding instead. Let's make the most of that successful record, eh?

24. In June the government tweeted "grab a drink and raise a glass, pubs are reopening"

The Prime Minister said "it is your patriotic duty to go out and enjoy yourselves"

This week they said the public is responsible, and "people going to the pub fuelled the rise in Covid"

So the government closed pubs at 10pm, because it’s well-known viruses only pop out for last orders.

25. Health Secretary Matt Hancock said the government "threw a protective ring around care homes"

A leaked document said care homes are now being asked to accept patients who are known to have Covid

26. Hospitals were banned from launching their own testing regime for staff and patience because… nope, nobody knows why. Just because.

27. There hasn’t been a meeting of COBRA (the government’s committee for national emergencies, headed by the Prime Minister) since 10th May

28. As Covid infections surged, Health Secretary Matt Hancock said restrictions are increasing, and pointed to a chart showing the government has "moved to alert level 3". Level 3 is "a gradual relaxing of restrictions". Not only can't he remember his own alert system, he can't even read it.

29. Despite travel restrictions, it was reported the Prime Minister flew off for a long weekend in Perugia, where his friend the Russian billionaire Evgeny Lebedev lives. He denies it, but the airport has his landing documents. So either he’s lying or... no, that’s the end of that sentence

30. In June the government spent £500m on a GPS satellite system to replace the one we lose due to Brexit

In July it was reported "we bought the wrong satellites"

This week the government cancelled the programme and began asking the EU if we can keep on using their GPS system

31. A cross-party committee of MPs found nurse-Ratched cosplayer Home Office Secretary Priti Patel "bases immigration policies on anecdotes and prejudice"

It found her dept has "no idea" what its annual spending achieves, and referred to "the wreckage that [Patel’s department’s] ignorance caused"

She is one of the favourites to replace Prime Minister Johnson

32. This is because it was reported the Prime Minister is thinking of quitting because he’s worried about his personal finances: the poor man has to "pay tax", "buy his own food" and "support 4 of his 6 children". Oh, the humanity!

33. And Jonathan Aitken – look him up – continues to get privileged access to parliament despite a ban on MPs who have served more than a year in prison. Which he did. And it was hilarious.

34. And finally, because he always needs a guest appearance, Chris Grayling, the man who awarded a ferry contract to a company with no ships, has got a £100k appointment to advise ports”-Russ

[renee-writer]

Highlands and Horses Chapter 6 A Fire!

A/N Trigger Warning for animals deaths

Amazing Grace recovers from her colic. Her rehabilitationists have a harder time recovering from that almost kiss.  A constant low heat flows between them. A week passes and they find no time to finish what was started that day. They will soon find themselves working close again in the midst of a different type of fire.

 

A frantic call from a lass named Geillis Duncan starts their journey towards that fire.

 

“Mr. Fraser, I work for the ASPCA and we are tracking a horse thief. “

 

“An actual horse thief.”

 

“Aye. We believe it is a lad named Steven Bonnet. I am calling all the farms and ranches, as well as centers like your own, to warn them and to ask if you have any information to give me a ring.”

 

“Absolutely. You do good work. My center is happy to assist you in anyway possible.”

 

“As do you Mr. Fraser. Thank you, I will.”

 

Neither realize they will be meeting in person soon, in the midst of a inferno.

 

He is walking out to check on Amazing Grace and Claire, when his phone rings.

 

“Mr. Fraser, this is Geillis Duncan.”

 

“Aye, Mistress Duncan, what can I do for you?”

 

“We have found Steven Bonnet. He has the stolen horses in a barn in the outskirts of Aberdeen. We aren’t sure what condition they will be in. Could really use your teams experience with traumatized horses.”

 

“Absolutely. Give me the address and I will gather my crew.”

 

“Thank you.”  She does and he goes to gather his people.

 

They take three horse trailers. He and Claire in one, John and Isobel in another, and Jenny and her husband Ian in the last. It is a long drive to Aberdeen. Time to finally talk.

 

“I really wanted to kiss you.” She softly admits, “still do.”

 

“Aye, I did and do also. Not sure how to deal with it as I am your employer.” His hands grip the steering wheel.  The longing for her touch, to touch her, only grows stronger.

 

“Yeah, that is my struggle too.” She longs to rest her head on his shoulder. Longs to sooth the worry lines of his face with her lips and hands. “I don’t want the others thinking that I am getting special attention.”

 

“Right, or that you are here for any reason besides your incredible talent as a horse whisperer.” They stop at a light and he turns to her. He finds her eyes waiting for his.  “For you are not.”

 

“I know.” The heat, that constant spark, starts to raise back up. Then the light changes, leaving them both shaky with un meet desire.

 

“This can’t continue. I fear we will burst into flames.”

 

“Maybe touch will help.” She suggests as she does what she has wanted to do since they set out. She rests her head against his shoulder and neck. A deep intake of breath greets this move. He moves his head so it leans against hers.

 

“It does. Quite a lot.” Nothing fully solved but a start towards working it out. They stay that way until they are almost at their destination. A half a kilometer out, a plumb of raising smoke draws them apart as they stare at it in horror.

 

“It isn’t the barn,  is it?” her hand gripping tight to seat show her distress.

 

“Pray not.” They are the lead trailer. As they speed up, he knows the others will also.

 

Unfortunately, it is the barn. A distressed Geillis stands, helpless with her team as they pull up. All jump out, in a hurry to do something, only to find there is nothing they can do. The firefighters do their best, their faces reflecting the horror of the situation. The screams of the trapped horses compete with the sound of the water rushing through the hoses in a desperate attempt to get to any of the trapped animals.

 

Claire stands, freely weeping, as Geillis explains through her rage, to Jamie and his team, what they have pieced together happened.

 

“Seems the bastard got word we will on the way. Rather then be caught, the decides to burn the evidence.”

 

“That bloody unholy f*cking bastard!” Jamie tells out. The barn is completely engulfed.  He knows that they won’t recover any of the animals. All they can do is stand in witness to their murder. He feels Claire’s hand take his.  He tightens his around it. Isobel weeps against John. Jenny paces and curses in Gaelic as Ian softly prays.

 

From the corner of Claire’s eye, she sees movement. Turning, she is in time to see a flash of golden hair fly past. A pony! A pony had escaped the hell of the barn!

 

“Jamie!” He turns and sees it too. The animal runs wild, it’s eyes rolling with intense fear.

 

“Holy hell, one made it out!” Geillis sees it at the same time. All, bar the firefighters, turn towards this miracle. “Can you get him?”

 

“I can.” Claire says with confidence.  She lets go of Jamie’s hand and slowly approaches the freaked pony. “Hey love. I know. I know. It is evil what that man did. Pure evil. But you are a brave lad. Fearless, eh. As you made it out.” As she speaks, she eases closer.  “A brave lad but we need to see if you are hurt. Will you let me check?” She is a hands span away. The pony just stares at her, his eyes still rolling.  *I promise love, not to hurt you.” Another step and she is there. Her hands come out to cup gently around his neck. “Oh there is a brave lad. Grand job.”

 

He calms under her gentle hands. A shudder as some of the fear and tension leave. Jamie, who had been following close behind her, nods towards the back of their trailer, that  Jenny has opened. Yes, to get him away from the fire would be best.  

 

Keeping his eyes, she lets Jamie lead them that way.  Deep sighs from the humans and the horse when they enter the safety of it.

 

“Hey laddie.” Jamie softly says as Claire starts a quick exam. She exams his body, finding a few burned places. Jamie asks Jenny for the first aid kit.   Claire listens to his lungs, worried about the smoke. There is a bit of wheezing but it isn’t at emergency level.

 

“Sweet boy, we are going to help with the burns. Help with the pain.”  Claire softly says. The cooling salve relaxes him farther. A bit of oxygen improves his breathing. The firefighters are happy to provide it, as they couldn’t save the others, as the captain says with sadness as he hands the canister to Jamie.

 

“You did your best. The bastard just started an uncontrollable fire.” Jamie’s rage is rebuilding with the pony safe.

 

“Aye, I shouldn’t say this, but I hope we find his body in there. I pray he was caught in his own fire.”

 

“Me too.”

 

“How is our miracle?” Geillis pokes her head into ask.

 

“A few burns, a bit of smoke inhalation, resolved with oxygen. He is a blessed boy.”

 

“We will take him back to the center and make sure this trauma doesn’t cripple him. You can have his real owner contact us.” Jamie adds.

 

“I will. Thank you for coming and taken care of him. We will find Bonnet. I swear it. When we do, you will need to testify.”

 

“We will be there. I pray there is strong security.”

 

“I pray there isn’t.” Geillis returns. “I have to deliver a lot of bad news. Please keep me informed of his progress “

 

“We will. Thank you.”

 

The pony, that Claire has named Fearless Miracle, until his true name is revealed, is sedated for the ride back. Claire insists on riding in the back with him. The sad team heads back to Rebuilding Trust.

[idaintykeith]

LOVE GUN (MacCready x fem!sole)

Summary: MacCready gets hired by one, if not the most mysterious woman of the Commonwealth.

No name, no talking. MacCready didn’t even know her name or voice but there were two things he could be certain about that peculiar job: he would be handsomely paid and that his boss carried a heavy past on her shoulders and hid it away in the depths of her heart.

MacCready had a policy of not making questions, but it wouldn’t be long until he would drown in a sea of questions.

Rating: M

CHAPTER ONE “It’s Not Unusual”

He was laying comfortably in one of the VIP room chairs with both of his hands on the back of his head. “ Caps… ” he thought, “ that’s what I need right now.”The room was wide and with no one except for himself, tranquil under the warm lights on the walls and ceiling. From where he was, he could clearly hear Magnolia’s beautiful voice, singing jazz as usual. He passed his thumb through the rifle that rested by the side of his chair, close to him. He thought about getting a drink to let the time pass by and wait, but he reminded himself he was on business.“Can’t do that right now, MacCready .” He muttered to himself.Even if he didn’t take a drink like he would always do, that day was like any other; waiting for caps to roll in—or so he assumed.

“Can’t say I’m surprised to find you in a dump like this, MacCready.” A man said while walking into the room.

It was no other than Winlock accompanied by Barnes. Both walked their way to MacCready and took a menacing posture towards him.

“I was wondering how long it would take your bloodhounds to track me down, Winlock.” He started with an annoyed smile.

MacCready knew the Gunners wouldn’t stop being on his tail. Not while he was taking jobs. But he had no choice, he would fight his way through if he had to, but even himself thought it was rare to not see them for a while now—really unusual.

“It’s been almost three months… don’t tell me you’re getting rusty .” He mocked while slowly approaching his rifle with his right hand, preparing himself “. Perhaps, should we take this outside?” MacCready asked while steadily gazing Winlock in the eyes.

“It ain’t like that. I’m just here to deliver a message,’ Winlock replied.

“In case you forgot, I left the Gunners for good .” He hissed.

“Yeah. I heard. But you still are taking jobs in the Commonwealth. That isn’t going to work for us.”

MacCready wasn’t going to have it. “I don’t take orders from you…”

He remembered the days he served as a Gunner, when the money was good but not the things they did for it. A word that fitted those memories perfectly was no other than “shame”; the shame he felt for the things he had done.

“not anymore,” he continued. “So why don’t you take your girlfriend and walk out of here while you still can.”

“What?” Barnes whimpered in displeasure “. Winlock, tell me we don’t have to listen to this shit…”

MacCready stood up from his chair and faced Winlock. He wanted them to leave at that moment if possible.

“Listen up, MacCready. The only reason we haven’t filled your body with bullets is that we don’t want a war with Goodneighbor” Winlock grunted “. See, we respect other people’s boundaries… we know how to play the game, something you never learnt.”

MacCready smiled and crossed his arms. “Glad to have disappointed you.”

Winlock chuckled a little and dedicated him a menacing glance. “You can play the tough guy all you want, but if we hear you’re still operating inside Gunner territory, all bets are off. You got that?”

MacCready clenched his jaw and furrowed his brows. His chest puffed and his hands were closed in a tight fist.

“You finished?” He questioned with a mad and daring look in his eyes.

“Yeah… We are finished. Come on, Barnes.”

MacCready watched them leave through the door with heavy steps. That was their last warning. Then, he sank into his comfortable chair and decided to ask for a drink, which he surely needed to relax. He softly swayed the drink in his hand and took a sip from it.

As he continued his drink, someone approached him across the room: a young lady. Perhaps she was lost, he thought. She looked far too young to request his service, but as long as she had money everything could be handled.

She had short black hair and long bangs that fell behind her ears, and as his gaze went further into her, more he found mesmerizing and magical. Her eyes seamlessly looked like they had been shaped by knives and their irises were a beautiful pitch-black color, her scar-less skin was pale like pre-war porcelain and it looked beautiful with the blue vault-suit covered in great green armor. A vault-dweller.But again, he wouldn’t have it. Certainly, she wanted something from him he didn’t have.

“Look, kid. If you are going about the Atom, or looking for a friend, you’ve got the wrong guy.” He remarked uninterested. “But if you are looking for a hired gun… then maybe we can talk.”

MacCready got up from the chair and left the drink on the table next to him. He noticed how small and slim she was compared to him, almost feeling like he could easily hold her.

The young lady opened and looked inside the many of the pockets of her light armor searching for something. She took a paper that was carefully folded and then she handed it to MacCready lay open.

He took it gently and read it. In a simple handwriting, the letter said: “I want to hire you. ”

He smiled. “I’ll tell you what. The price is 250 caps… up front, no bargai—”, and suddenly he was interrupted when she threw him a small and heavy bag.

He caught it on the air and felt the sharp ends of some kind of metal. As he opened the bag, he saw a large amount of caps in it and instantly knew it was more than he asked—it was almost the double, probably more. He frowned in confusion.

After she knew with certainty that he checked the bag, she handed him another letter. “ 600 caps… up front.” It said.

He walked around the room, thinking. “ How dangerous is the job if she is paying me this much? ” was one of the many thoughts he had. He crossed his arms and kept wandering around the room to ponder. All he could imagine is that the job was seriously risky that he could die while accomplishing—something he definitely couldn’t afford, but the money was worth the risk, for Duncan .

Another question that came to his wondering mind was another simple but important question: Who is she? A vault-dweller usually knows little to nothing about the world but most importantly, a dweller would never be alone and wouldn’t have that much money.

McCready when he stopped and looked at her again, he noticed the tip of a colorful tattoo on her neck that was hidden behind the blue vault-suit. It seemed like ocean waves; he wasn’t really sure about it. She didn’t feel from this world.

“So… What’s the job?”

So much paper. The lady gave her another piece of paper with something written on it, demonstrating her prior preparation for this situation.

“ Work for me. I need an extra hand in the Commonwealth. That’s all. You’re in? ”

MacCready stared at the letter for some time. 600 caps up front. He couldn’t let her pay so much, he knew real’ well how someone could need a lot of caps to get something they need or want. His morals told him to be fair, even if he needed them too.

MacCready gave her the bag back. “It’ll be 300 caps then. No bargaining.”

 | AO3 (to read more chapters) |

[nukacoola]

Hey there! I see you were open to writing requests. I haven't had a chance to see your work yet so I'm sorry if this isn't the type of request you typically do! But, I was wondering if you'd indulge me with a little nervous/romantic MacCready confessing feelings? (for sole or Deacon or anyone else you want!)

“Ok, this is it. This is the day. You know what you’re gonna say. Don’t be a fu-, a freaking coward, MacCready. You’ve got this.” MacCready was nervously pacing back and forth in his house in Sanctuary. 

He had invited Sole over for dinner earlier that day but as the clock ticked and the time their meet was scheduled for crept closer, MacCready was getting more and more nervous. He wasn’t nervous because Sole was coming over. On the contrary, he loved hanging out with them. They made him feel happy and safe in a way no one since Lucy had been able to. He was nervous because of what he was planning on saying to them when they arrived. He didn’t know how to thank them when they had helped him kill Winlock, Barnes, and all of their Gunner goons. He didn’t know how to thank them when they still paid him extra caps even after they had become more like friends than business partners. He sure as hell didn’t know how to thank them when they helped him find and successfully deliver Duncan’s cure. And he definitely didn’t know how the hell he was gonna tell them that he, uh, how he felt about them. 

Duncan was out of the house, staying with Curie for the night, and he’d been practicing what he was gonna say all day. Everything should’ve been perfect. He should’ve been ready. Despite his preparations, though, he was a wreck. He was sweating bullets and no matter how much he wiped off his hands, his palms were still clammy. 

“Ok ok, one more time, from the top. Hi Sole! I lov- oh god what the fu- frick! God damn- darn it why can’t I get this right? Hi Sole, I-” MacCready jumped at the sound of knocking at his door. They’re here? Already? He checked the time. It was 6, just as they had planned. MacCready took a deep breath and tried to stop his heart from leaping out of his chest. He wiped his hands on his pants for the 50th time and made his way to the front door. Without letting himself overthink, he opened the door. Lo and behold, it was Sole. They looked really good, as usual, which only fueled MacCready’s nervousness further. Luckily, Sole’s bright smile at seeing MacCready helped ease some of his worries and he smiled back, genuinely. 

“Hey, Mac!” They greeted him with a warm hug which he eagerly returned. “You look really good. Is that a new shirt?” They smoothed their hands over his shoulders, admiring the clean button up.

“Uhh, yeah I just found it at an old Fallon’s.” He answered lamely. The truth is he had paid a good few caps in Diamond City to get a shirt this nice and clean. But Sole didn’t have to know how long he’d been preparing for this night. He noticed that they looked a bit dressed up too.

“So, what are we having tonight. If it’s molerat I’ll only be a little disappointed.” They teased. 

“No molerat!” MacCready promised, trying to keep his confidence up and his voice from wavering. “The brahmin steaks I’ve been making should be ready in just about 10 minutes. Would you like a drink?” He wasn’t sure about Sole, but he certainly needed one. 

“Sounds great.” They replied with a smile before making their way over to MacCready’s couch. “Those steaks smell amazing! I forgot how good you are at cooking.”  

“Oh uh, Thanks!” MacCready stuttered, quickly turning, half to go fix some drinks in the kitchen and half to hide his ruby red blush. He procured two glasses and poured them both some wine. After bringing the drinks over to the living area, he and Sole got to chatting. Mac’s awkward demeanor dissipated as his favorite person excitedly told him about prewar wineries. They were deep in conversation and deep into their drinks when MacCready’s cooking timer went off. 

“Is it done?” Sole asked, “I’m starving.” they flashed Maccready a bright smile which made his stomach flip. He shyly smiled back and nodded.

“It should be, why don’t you go sit down while I take it out of the oven?” 

“Sounds good!” 

MacCready turned to walk into the kitchen and grabbed some oven mitts. He removed the steaks, they were perfect. That made one of them. MacCready was practically shaking he was so nervous. He took a deep breath and willed himself to forget the fact that he was going to tell Sole over dinner. Hey, maybe if the food was good enough they wouldn’t storm out when they didn’t feel the same. He again tried his best to push those thoughts out of his head, instead focusing on the plating of the food. When he felt it was sufficient, he turned back to Sole. He found that they had busied themself with pouring some more wine and two glasses of clean water. 

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that.” MacCready smiled as he set the plates of food down.

“You’ve been slaving away all night! It’s the least I could do.” They grinned, looking up at him. If MacCready didn’t know better he would’ve thought there was a slight pink hue to their cheeks. It must’ve been the alcohol. Sole began to strike up conversation again as they sat down and began to eat. MacCready was starving too. Sole had always said he didn’t eat enough, but his delicious meal and hunger for it were doing little to remedy the nausea caused by the minutes ticking by. He had to tell them but he didn’t want to mess things up. What if they didn’t feel the same? And if they didn't, what if they hated him for ruining their partnership. What if-

“Mac? You ok?” 

Fuck. Sole was looking at him with concern in their eyes. Sole’s hand hovered near Mac’s, but they didn’t touch him. The merc looked back at his partner. His mouth kept opening and closing but the words wouldn’t come out. He had to say something. 

“I-,” Sole’s hand gently lowered to rest on his, “I just, well, we’ve been traveling together for a while now and I have something I wanted to talk about with you.” If his heart palpitations didn’t kill him, the look on Sole’s face would have. Their look of worry shifted into one of borderline fear. Did he already mess this up?? His question was answered when Sole looked away from him and spoke. 

“Did I do something wrong?” their voice wavered. Completely taken aback by this question. MacCready roughly grabbed their hands. They looked up at him, surprised. 

“No no! Nothing like that at all! I mean, hell, Sole! I don’t think you have the ability to do anything wrong.” Sole looked confused, but the worry they had worn before seemed to be gone. “You’re amazing and kind and funny and hell you look like you’re out of a dam-darn pre-war magazine!” 

He heard his words after he said them and internally cringed. That was not what he had planned on saying, but it was too late to take it back. He scanned their face for any signs of animosity but Sole’s face gave no indication of their thoughts. Their cheeks were definitely red, but that was uh, alcohol, again, probably. Mac’s face, on the other hand, could’ve been mistaken for a tato, and it definitely wasn’t from the drinks. 

“Wha-what I was trying to say was I- uh, well I really like you. In a more than friends or work partners kind of way.” MacCready stared at his hands, still holding Sole’s like it was his job. He didn’t want to look up to see a disgusted expression marring his friend’s gorgeous features. If he only had a couple moments of normalcy with them left, he wanted to be able to remember what it felt like to hold their warm hand in his. One of Sole’s hands moved from Mac’s. This was it. They were pulling away. Instead of what he suspected, however, MacCready felt Sole's hand cup his face and tilt it back towards them. He looked into Sole’s kind eyes with a bit of shock painting his own.

“I like you too, Robbie.” Holy shit holy crap oh my god did they just say that?? DID THEY JUST CALL HIM BY HIS FIRST NAME WHEN THEY SAID THAT??? Not even just his first name, a nickname of his first name! The merc felt like his brain was lagging. His face was on fire and he only subconsciously noticed how his stomach was doing gymnastics. Sole laughed. Their cheeks were flushed too as they pressed their forehead against his. 

“So is this our first date then?” They teased.

“I- uh, if you want it to be! I honestly didn’t expect you to feel the same. You’re just so…” MacCready trailed off. There was no way to eloquently explain how beautiful and kind and just overall amazing Sole is. They seemed to get the message though. They flashed him another one of their perfect smiles and leaned back. 

“I feel the same, Mac. I’m so glad you told me.” MacCready smiled. For the first time in a while, he actually felt at ease. 

“Let’s finish our dinner and then we can talk more.” He suggested. 

“Sounds perfect!”

---------------------------------------------------------

Here ya go! I hope you liked it :) <3