#I write because I’m never as unhappy as when I can’t express the million little ideas I have a day

[gold-wolf-soldier13]

honestly genuinely think a lot of writers here on tumblr have lost the plot more than a little. like if your writing for external validation, ie begging for comments and reblogs or saying kudos/likes mean less, i really believe you need to take a step back and reexamine your relationship with your writing. of course we all love to hear how much someone likes our work- we’re human- but the incessant posting and polling about comments and how “no one comments anymore” is starting to give entitlement. you aren’t owed engagement. just because you’re choosing to put the your work out to the public sphere, whether it’s here on tumblr or ao3 or wattpad or literally anywhere, for free and explicitly for others entertainment doesn’t mean they- the strangers on the internet- owe you anything. they don’t owe you a like, a comment, a reblog, a favorite, a bookmark- they don’t have any obligation to you. if you’re posting and immediately concerned about engagement metrics you’re no better than any tiktok or instagram content creator.

[secretbangtnn]

Best Of Me | One

Pairings : →ot7 x reader, poly!BTS x reader

Genre : → vampireau, yandere!au, age gap, gore, obsessive behavior, ddlg/caregiver, poly, fantasy, supernaturals

summary : It’s quite unusual to find a little baby on your doorstep, especially that their area was not of the poorest - you could say that a vampire town was efficient with money and snobby creatures. However over time the first idea of just giving back the little girl seems more and more radical and those moody vampires slowly start perceiving deeper feelings to human they even wanted to kill.

notes ~

So im not really as happy as i wanted to be with this chapter, but its the first one that i needed to translate. Suprisingly Its easier for me to write the whole thing myslef than translating it from my native language. + Remember to leave something and im happy to say that we can start an ask game with the characters from my books

next

Surprisingly this day was awfully ugly for such a beautiful season. Heavy rain was falling on the ground creating the big sheets of wall with those millions droplets that practically covered the whole view outside of the freshly cleaned window.

Tired sigh pierced the quiet, as for the household members, house only causing the weird tension to increase that was there from the early morning. Dark hair of the boy moved with him, now facing the cold, wet window.

Hyung…” Groaned the boy crashing on the couch closing the eyes in the process a little frustrated. Walking just next to him, a little taller man with bright yellow hair, looked at the dark haired one with a tired stare.

“I don’t have time Jungkook, go torture Yoongi or something.” A snort came out of the older one after the not so innocent proposition, as he kept carrying the big basket full of clothes.

And again he was alone. The youngest of the brothers, being the one who never knew what to do with his free time, wandering in the halls and every couch he could spot in their cosy house. His dark chocolate hair falling on his face, a little too long for his liking, but he was too lazy to actually do something with them.

Again that not happy groan left his lips, and wriggling similar to a child that did not get a toy he wanted, in the end forcing him to sit on the couch with a big pout. It was not normal in this household, the whole quiet and calm act, especially considering the residents he shared the home with.

They are more similar to animals than gentelems that appreciate a quiet time. So the weird atmosphere was definitely an unsettling thing for the youngest.

Again looking at the dark view outside the window, he tried to see the cause of all of this. Completely as if something was meant to happen, like the quiet before the storm.

And let me tell you, Jungkooks 6th sense never fails. Just as he thought that maybe just maybe this time he was wrong, a ring echoed in the whole household.

“Someone is gonna open it?!” He shouted being too irritated to even do it himself, despite being the closest to the doors.

Of course, nobody answered. So angry he was at this moment he got up from a nice cozy couch and with heavy steps he came to the big chunk of the wood.

He opened the door not that gently, mumbling an annoyed “what?”

So how irritated he got when he saw nothing, a void, the same doorstep and gate that stood there everyday, now with a big wall of rain to spice up the view. He looked around, now a little confused, while thinking that maybe someone was in the mood for jokes. But how stupid the idea of that was when he remebered, that for his hundreds years of living in this world the first time that actually someone managed to make fun of him was today.

And oh god he started to get so pissed.

So imagine how shocked he was when just before he closed the door he heard a really unusual sound coming from his feets. Unhappy sobs rang in the quiet afternoon immediately attracting his attention.

The young vampire was more than shocked, looking at the child in the pille of pastel colored blankets. Small sobs now increased in a big crocodile's tears with disturbing sounds of the kids crying.

“”No, no, no, please be quiet, we don’t want to wake up the old, ugly, moody grandpa. do we?” He panicked, whispering the words to the child that now laid in his arms. He just prayed that the actual old vampire really didn't take up because of the cries.

As the kid started to calm down, he stared at it with an unreadable emotion. It was a weird feeling, holding the delicate creature in his arm, knowing that just one wrong move, and the child would never cry again.

So what was that feeling that stirred down his stomach as the little creature grabbed his finger with a big open mouth. The sick emotion only made him panic even more, while looking back inside the house.

He decidied,. Sneaking was nothing new for his ninja move, and he strongly believed in his skills of not getting caught with a surprise in his arms. In the end the spiderman socks were a good choice, as their soft material made nearly no sound on the floor.

His stress level went higher with each step that brought him closer to the room that he knew he could not miss. The sound of a knife and cutting rung in his ears is similar to the music in horror music he likes to watch, now making him understand a feeling of pure fear.

Eyes closed while praying that the blonde man won’t turn around catching him in his act. But how wrong he was to believe in such a miracle. Nothing and absolutely gets past Kim Seokjin.

“Jeon Jungkook…” He died, completely freezing in place. Not opening his eyes he waited thinking that maybe it was just his head messing with him, and the blonde boy never actually turned to him. “What have you done again. If I need to clean the mess once again from the ketchup, I'm not going to…”

And as Jungkook thought that nothing can go worse, the little chil laughed a happy giggle while making the grabby hands for his bracelet.

“Jungkook?...What exactly are you holding?” The question like a knife cutted the heavy atmosphere in half. The silence just after that louder than everything he has heard before. He was even sure that he felt his nonexisting heart stopping. “Did you fucking steall a child?! I can’t be…”

“No! It’s not like that I swear I found it on our doorstep.”

“Do you really think think I am that stupid? How even the child could just appear there hm? Rolled there or better flyed on its plush unicorn?”

“Hyung, please you are going to wake up others.” He didn’t even hesitate to beg, looking at the blonde with such terrified eyes. The child in his arms happily munching on his bracelet completely unaware of the tension.

“Why would I care about others! You brought a child Jungkook, how can i be calm!?”

Dark haired unconsciously looked around with gritted teeth, now just waiting for the rest to appear. And he did not need to wait long, as just after he looked back at the blonde, someone came from the other side of the kitchen door.

Tall man with peachy hair and raspy voice, trying to get rid of the rest of his sleep, now scratching his head with confused expressions. Who wouldn’t be confused in this place, seeing a literal child in a house full of old vampires.

“What is this mess all about? You know what hour it is?” Said the tallest one. Blondie one only snorted as if offended while crossing his arms. “What?”

“Nothing.” Oldest mumbled irritated. The tallest only raised his brow, and repeated the question once again. Jungkook being now forgotten with the child trying to catch his attention with little sounds. “You dare to remind me of the hour?! Do you know how many nights I didn’t sleep because of you! If I just could silence you for good, you would have long ago ended like the voldemort, yes i'm talking about that nose of yours”

The taller one immediately touched his nose gasping not believing in what he just heard, now trying to silently disappear from the harash stare of his older brother.

As the peach hired one hid behind a counter, the attention now came back to the snaking Jungkook. More pairs of footsteps rang in the quietness of the home, slowly showing other people.

“Jin-hyung is angry again? What happened I want to see.” Announced the newcomer, sliding on his perfectly white socks.

“Who is angry here?! You want to see how angry I can be you...you…”

“You silly goose?”

“No that's to lame.”

“Dipshit?”

“You dipshit! Thank you Namjoon.” He finished with a red face. The newcomer only rolled his eyes, while making the shortest of the brothers that came with him laugh.

“Since everyone is here…” The tallest started.

“Wait, where is Yoongi.” Asked the red haired one, while leaning on the counter with a mysteriously made coffee.

“Here.” All of them shouted, hearing the sudden voice, and seeing the new person that appeared with a lightning of thunder. “So what’s this mess about?”

Everyone in the room simultaneously looked at the dark haired boy that immediately stopped in his tracks hoping for some power that could help him disappear. All the eyes slowly drifted down his arms, now staring at a bundle of blankets that started to move as if it knew of the attention.

“What is that?” Asked the tallest looking straight at the irritated blonde.

“Don’t ask me, I’m not the one that gives such a stupid example, making those idiots steal children.”

The kitchen is now again quiet, all the eyes on the little creature in the arms of the youngest. Only sound now being the child starting to sob again, making everyone tense.

“Shut it up you morons.” Said second oldest, annoyed at the loud cries. The blonde didn’t waste time, knowing how bad noise is for the black haired. Small body now shuddering because of the sobbing making the oldest coo at the little child.

His arms soon hold the bundle of blanket, trying to calm the kid down with his baby voice. It wasn’t hard to get lost in its eyes, them being mysterious and full of innocence, drawing up the blonde one. His big hand now on its red cheek, trying to feel the texture of the soft skin under his fingers.

And as the cries never happened, the child started giggling again trying to grab Seokjin hands with such a beautiful smile. It was a really soft sight to see making them all calm and giddy inside. But as the child opened its mouth Seokjin's smiles disappeared.

“What the matter?” Asked Namjoon a little bit taken aback by the change of his hyungs mood. The oldest only looked back at the rest of them with a terrified expression.

“It's a human.”

[mendesblurb]

Three times shawn says he miss you and send a photo, one time you surprise him by coming home early

Right now I’m missing you

Shawn Mendes x female reader

Warning: fluff, a lot of emojis used,maybe grammar error and maybe some punctuation errors.

Note: Hey Anon, thank you for requesting. I had so much fun writing this one. Hope you like my attempt in writing your story idea.

First

Bzzzt bzzzt

You paused reading your script and, grabbed your phone that was on the side table. You smiled when you saw it was a message from Shawn.

It's really sweet that Shawn always miss you whenever you travel for work. Frankly, you always miss him too. This is just the unspoken thing that happen when two busy celebrities start dating. Both of you have busy schedules, and so every little sweet uninterrupted moments are more precious than ever.

Text message

Shawn: Wish you were here with me, I miss you….

You: I miss you too 😍

Shawn: I miss you most 😏😏

You: I miss you mostest 😌

Shawn: Me + U = ❤️, so Me - U = 😢

You: Can’t wait to FaceTime you tonight 😏😏

Shawn: Can tonight just come sooner…

You: Patience, my love.

Shawn: Because you’re the one asking, I will try to be patient.

You: Shawn if you can survive me friend zoning you for 5 years, you can survive this 🤨

Shawn: I hate how you’re always right.

You: It’s just in my blood 😉😉😉

Shawn: God, I just love you. Anddddddd I misssssssss youuuuu ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

You: I love you tooooo and I missssssss youuuu tooo ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Second

It’s been a long, long day.

Your eyes felt heavy. You were struggling to stay awake to finish your night routine. Just a few more steps, that’s all you needed to stay awake then you could go to sleep. Suddenly, your phone vibrates and dings rather loudly. It snaps you out of your dazed state. You proceed to grab your phone and saw a text from Shawn with an image attached.

You have been away for your new movie and wouldn’t be returning until four more weeks at the earliest. Obviously, the two of you have been continuing to message and FaceTime each other throughout the time you have been away, but you were pretty busy.

It seems the only time he’s able to get you to himself is at Goddamn one in the morning. He knew you would still be awake otherwise he wouldn’t have sent the image.

Text message

Shawn: Right now, I’m missing you a little too much.

You: You know we just FaceTimed like thirty minutes ago right?

Shawn: Yeah, But I still miss my girl 😢😢😢😢

You: I still miss you too honey..😢😢

Shawn: No amount of FaceTime or texts can stop me from missing you. I just love you so much.

You: I love you too, wish we could cuddle right now🥺🥺🥺🥺.

Shawn: The bed is just too big and I wish I can be your pillow right now, come home soon Y/N 🥺🥺🥺

You: I will baby, as soon as I can 😉😉😉

Shawn: Promise?

You: Promise Shawnie.

Shawn: pinky swear?

You: YES! Shawnieeeeeee, I swearrrr ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Shawn: Tarzan says he misses his mommy 🥺

You: Well, Tarzan. Mommy miss you too 🥺🥺

Shawn: Come home soon, we both miss you a little too much and too often 🥺🥺❤️

You: Don’t worry baby, I’ll be home soon. I promise ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Shawn: I can’t wait! 🎉😆😆😆

You: Me too!! 🥲🥲🥲🥲

Shawn: Goodnight my love ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️, have a good sleep! Call me when you’re awake!! 😍😍

You: Goodnight Shawnie ❤️❤️❤️, definitely calling you once I wake up! 😍😍😍

Shawn: I’ll definitely dream about you 😌✌🏻

You: Stop making me blush 🙄

Shawn: then stop being so cute and lovable 😛

Third

You were in the middle of hair and make up on set when the first text comes in, followed quickly by a second and the third.

Text message

Shawn: 🆘🆘🆘‼️‼️

Shawn: 🆘🆘🆘🆘‼️‼️

Shawn: Help!!! I miss you so much 😫😫😫

You: I wish I could be at New York with you right now 😢😢

Shawn: New york is just not the same 🥺🥺… I like it more last time because you and I were holding hands while exploring the city ❤️❤️

You: Shawnie… 🥺🥺🥺🥺

You pout as you look down at your phone. The two of you haven’t been able to spend much time with each other in over a month. You have been filming in london for a month while he was at New York.

All you want is his kisses and cuddles. All you want is him holding your hand right now, all you want is his clingy behaviour who won’t let you leave the bed. All you want is to sit on his lap while talking about the most random things. All you need is him right here, instead of being millions of miles away.

Shawn: I know, it’s just it’s been a long month 😭😭

You: Don’t worry, I’ll be home soon.

Shawn: How soon? 🤔🤔🤔

You: Soon, soon! 😌😌😌

Shawn: Can I know the date of your arrival?

You: Nope! 😛😛

Shawn: please! Please! 🥺🥺🥺

You: call you tonight baby, gotta do a scene 😘😘

Shawn: you are so annoying… 🙄🙄🙄

Shawn: honey, you can’t just not tell me 🥺🥺🥺

Shawn: please! Let me know when 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Shawn: 🥺🥺🥺🥺

*missed FaceTime from Shawn*

You: Calling me won’t help, love 😌😌

Shawn: ugh 😑 fine, I thought I could convince you with my pretty face 😌😌. But I guess I’ll be a good person who knows the definition of patience.

You: Good Boy 😛

Shawn: Did you just refer me as a boy?

You: maybe….. 😜😜

Shawn: Excuse me!!!!

Shawn: Hello!!!

You: Yes?

Shawn: I’m a man, not a boy 😡😡

You: says the person who literally got a tattoo saying Good Boy.

Shawn: I can’t with you 😑😑

You: Aww, I love you too Shawnie 😙😙

Fourth

Shawn woke up before his alarm again, he slowly sat up while letting out an unhappy sigh; this whole month he felt like he’s all alone, while you were working. He missed the satisfying feeling where he can just roll over and find you there sleeping peacefully next him instead of being million miles away.

Shawn let out a small sigh again as he stretched his hands and slipped on one of his ring and watch, finishing his look. He scanned over himself in the mirror once again, adjusting the sleeves of his button-up shirt.

He just kept pouting at the sad reminder. He thought about texting you but then his phone began to ring from his bed and the next thing he knew he was rushing to the studio. 

—————

"Hurry up!" Brian simpered as he grabbed his hand and yanked him as soon as he arrived at the studio.

"Is everything okay?” Shawn asked. "Please just tell me what is the emergency.”

"Just step inside," Brian said hastily, motioning towards the doors, a big smile plastered on his face.

"Brian, I swear, if this is some sort of prank..." Shawn trailed off as he turned the doorknob and pushed opened the door slowly. Shawn was half expecting a bucket of water to dump on him or a pie in the face, but none of that happened. Instead, he was greeted with a dark studio. Shawn looked quizzically at Brian, who just shooed him into the room.

"Seriously Brian, what is going on?" Shawn questioned, looking warily into the room. He felt Brian’s hands on his shoulders and pushed him into the room fully, staying behind him.

The lights came on suddenly and you stepped fully to his direction and cleared your throat, loudly announcing yourself, “Hey Shawnie, did you miss me?”

From the the looks of it, and Shawn stood stock still for a moment.

You caught a glimpse of his expression of adoration, love and surprise, before you wrapped around him like a Koala Bear.

“Oh my god, Y/N! Whe-when did you get here?”

“Went straight from the airport, baby.”

“Oh baby, I’m so happy you’re here! I-I can’t believe you’re here.” he laughed and squeezed his arms around you, never wanting to let you go. He picked you up more and spun you around a few times, Shawn was just super giddy that you were finally here with him, finally.

You too squeezed him even harder, if that was even possible, “I’m here, love, I’m here.”

He pulled back slightly, kissing your forehead. “This is the best surprise ever, I love you.”

“I love you too Shawn.”

Thank you for reading guys... feel free to like, reblog, follow my account, leave a comment and my chat is always open for random chats or requests... appreciate every single one of you... ❤️

Taglist: @monikamendes @holland-styles @bvttercupbby @lonelyreputation @badreputationlove @shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean @benito-mi-vida @swiftmendeshoran @yournameoneverypage @shawn-is-bruh @mendesbhraanth @perfectlywrongsm @imaginashawnns @smendes-forever @nervousmendes @whenyoureadyholland @shawn-youth @myboyshawn @camilalewiss @camilalewisss @theregoesmyherojd @nanijaac1 @shawnieeboyy @silverswallow

[amyscascadingtabs]

darling, you should know i’m a helicopter

a healthy dose of hurt/comfort with added baby snuggles, because i truly felt for amy in this episode. it's been a long time since i just wrote something quick but i hope you enjoy! 🥰

oh and if you want a picture this is the pajamas mac is wearing, okay cool

read on ao3

 Amy doesn’t mean for it to be a breakdown.

 She’s not surprised when Mac’s familiar piercing cries wake her up again a mere hour and a half after she’s fed him and put him to sleep for the night. As miraculous as Charles’ methods seemed, she still believes some babies are just fussy, and her son is one of them. It’s the only logical conclusion she’s come to after six, eight, ten, and twelve weeks all passed without any notable improvement in Mac’s ability to sleep longer stretches, and now he’s five months old and defying every single baby book and website that informs her he should be well settled into a sleeping schedule by now. He’s just fussy, or a high need baby, or whatever other term with needlessly negative connotations there is to make Amy feel like she's doing a bad job. It’s who he is and it’s what she’s used to, so she just scoots to the edge of the bed and picks him up from his travel cot in her still hurting arms before he can wake up the rest of the house.

On another night, she might have tried to walk around with him first, play some white noise or bounce on the yoga ball with him, but she’s tired and dejected and scared to wake up anyone else, so she goes for the easy option. The buttons of her pink striped pajama shirt are easily accessible for this exact purpose, and resting Mac’s head in the crook of her right arm, she gently guides him to her chest and exhales in relief as the crying comes to a stop. At least this, she can do, and the idiots who write advice pages about how you shouldn’t get your baby used to falling asleep at the breast have probably never even met a real baby.

 She leans back against the pillows when she’s sure Mac’s found a good latch and she can hear his content grunts and swallows. His hand has found a steady grip on her newly washed hair, probably getting drool in it again, but she can’t be bothered to try and unclench his little iron fist when he’s finally happy. Watching his perfect chubby cheeks as they hollow and fill, stroking the soft baby curls that are getting lighter and more like Jake’s every day, Amy’s overcome with another wave of that crazy all-consuming love that keeps surprising her, and then she’s the one who can’t stop her tears from falling.

 The only thing she ever wants is to keep him safe. In a world of pandemics and injustice, where the news gives her anxiety attacks more days than not and everything she thought she knew keeps changing, at least she can make sure Mac has his every need attended to. It’s been her life while staying home for the past five months, and she likes to think she’s handled it well all things considered, but after Charles’ nip tips and three-hour imprisonment of her child, Amy can’t help but feel like she’s done it all wrong.

 Her son is at his happiest when she can’t bother him. Once again, her high-strungness and failure to just be chill have proved her unfit for motherhood. She’s too anxious, too stressed, too overprotective, and the baby in her arms looking up at her with the warmest, roundest brown eyes she’s ever known is seriously unlucky and he doesn’t even know it.

 She doesn’t know where the negative thoughts are coming from, but sometimes breastfeeding has this effect on her – another sign, the self-hating voice in her head whispers – and it’s been an exhausting day, so she lets the tears come and hopes Jake is too deeply asleep to notice her mini-breakdown. Why is this so hard for her, and why can’t she just relax? How come Mac seems to be the only child she’s heard of whose sleeping habits at home have gotten worse and not better after his first few weeks at daycare, and how come even the most gentle of sleep training methods break her heart when Mac cries like he’s been abandoned?

 She’s wiping her tears with her free hand before wiping Mac’s cheeks with the muslin blanket when Jake begins to stir next to her, and even that makes her feel guilty, because he’s had a long day, too. He rubs his hand against her upper arm as if sensing that something’s off, yawning as he pushes himself up into a half-sitting position.

“Hey,” he mumbles in his softest sleepy voice, a worried crease appearing on his forehead. “Are you okay, Ames?”

“Yeah,” she tries, but her voice breaks, so she shakes her head. Mac is starting to pull away, so she unlatches him and sighs when she realizes that the shirt she’d packed clean already has milk stains on it. She rests him upright with his head on her shoulder instead, patting him on the back and trying to stop the tears that won't stop coming.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me. Is it Charles again? Because I really think he felt bad, but I’m happy to tell him off again if you want me to.”

“It's not Charles.” Amy sighs. “Well, it kind of is, but it's more that... I can't believe the best Mac has ever slept was when I wasn't even there. I try everything and nothing works, and Charles straight-up locks him in a room, and that makes him fall asleep? It feels like more proof I wasn't meant to do this,” she says, and she can see him immediately opening his mouth to protest. “Like even Charles is a more natural mom than I am.”

 Mac makes a hiccuping noise, spitting up a little bit of milk on the muslin blanket Amy put on her shoulder. Jake wipes it away before laying an arm around them, half-hugging them both.

“No offense, but that's the worst lie I’ve heard today, and that's including the stuff Terry said about me.” He strokes Mac’s back through the blue pajamas with little moons and clouds with faces as he begins to whimper again. “You're the best mom to him ever, Ames. You do everything for him. You literally kicked down a door to get to him today. Why do you think someone would be better?”

Amy sighs as she adjusts Mac in her arms, swaying him slightly and being surprised when it actually makes him go quiet. He has his eyes closed, fists up in front of his face, and just the thought that she could be doing something wrong by him makes her heart shatter.

“Because I try too hard,” she whispers, just loud enough for Jake to hear. “When he was locked in by Charles, I couldn't check on him, and it was the best nap he's ever had. All because I worry too much about him. Because I don't know what else to do. I want to keep him safe, but instead I’m somehow not doing enough and doing too much at once.”

She tickles that adorable baby chin with her index finger. Mac grips it, bringing it to his mouth with determination, and it makes both parents laugh. Why he likes this but rejects every single kind of pacifier Buy Buy Baby had to offer, she’ll never understand.

“He knows you love him,” Jake says, as if that was an obvious fact. He likes to claim he can read Mac’s mind about these things, a skill which Amy thinks would have been a lot more useful if it had also worked to figure out what it is their son needs during their worst nights of crying. It's what she needed to hear right now, though, and she leans her head on his shoulder as a silent thank you. “And just because he might be a little introverted sometimes doesn't mean he doesn't love you like crazy, too. I mean, that's what you tell me when I interrupt you when you're reading, right?”

She smiles. “I guess.”

“I know you worry,” he continues. “But just because Mac likes his peace and quiet sometimes doesn’t mean you’re doing a bad job. Maybe we could even let him start sleeping in his nursery at night, you know, just see what happens?”

Just the mention of not having her son within arm’s length at night makes Amy freeze and a million nightmare scenarios flash through her head, and Jake laughs a little as he feels her shoulders tense. “Okay, I can tell that was too big of a step and you’re freaking out, so maybe not. But one day?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” she decides, carefully trying to pull her finger out of her son’s mouth. “Thanks, babe. I just really want to go back to sleep.”

 Mac’s eyes are fluttering, a telltale sign that he’s starting to fight his sleep, stretching his legs and letting out the most adorable of baby-sighs. Jake runs his thumb over his son’s forehead and nose in an attempt to make him relax, and shakes his head as Mac only forces his eyes open again.

“He’s lucky he’s so cute, isn’t he?”

“He’s lucky we love him,” Amy mumbles, trying and failing to stifle a yawn.

“Yeah. I mean, who needs a full night’s sleep anyway, right?” Jake says, and Amy just stares at him with a blank expression.

“I know you’re joking, but I would almost leave him in Charles’ hands for a night again if it meant I got a four-hour stretch, and that’s saying something.”

“Yeah.” Jake grimaces. “I shouldn’t have said that. Now I’m kind of thinking about it too.”

 Thinking that maybe Mac will repeat his magical streak of at least managing to fall asleep on his own, Amy tries to put him down in the cot again, but she’s barely moved before he lets out another unhappy cry. She lifts him upright against her chest again, biting her lip and trying not to feel defeated as she starts the hushing and rocking all over again.

“Hey, I can take him,” Jake says, reaching for him. “You need to sleep so you can stop crazy-spiraling, and I’ve barely held him all day. I’ll walk around with him outside for a while, that might do it.”

 It’s not the typical declarations of love they used to share, but as he puts the muslin blanket on his shoulder before taking Mac and getting out of bed with him, Amy’s confident that she’s never loved her husband more. This, right here, watching him with sleep-tousled curls in just his t-shirt and pajama pants as he adjusts his son and bounces him slightly in his arms while the crying turns into a more gentle fussing, is far hotter than any sex dream about Sanjay Gupta could ever be.

[enchanted--realm]

When Calls the Heart Live Ramples

Season 8 episode 9 Pre Wedding Jitters

That scene in 👏Nathan's 👏office👏 The lines they wrote for Kevin *chef's kiss* perfection. I mean, I still dont like this whole secret reveal thing. I think it's so dumb. Like, ain't no way the writers intended Nathan to have this secret when he first came to the show. I don't think he was suppose to have any secret at all. I mean, this whole, 'There's something he's not telling me' thing came out of nowhere. That aside, the love confession was great, again, and he left Elizabeth speechless again and she ran away, AGAIN. That tells me all I need to know. She cannot deny this man BECAUSE SHE LOVES HIM. And if y'all think otherwise than you're delusional.

The game at the bachelorette party. It was obvious from the promo for this episode how this would play out. She reaches for Nathan's hands and thinks he's the one. (I was predicting that she would know it was Nathan and then feel uncomfortable and move on, but that didnt happen. She thought he was Lucas *bleh. Though I was still right in thinking Nathan would be 'the one' during this little game). We like that. I really liked how the party scene lasted longer than I expected. It wasnt even too long of a scene, but it was definitely long for When Calls the Heart. This show really needs to work on it's pacing. Everything happens so fast bc they have to cut to the millions of side plots that happen in every episode. My gosh, would they give us some focus please.

When Lucas came by Elizabeth's house in the morning I enjoyed that they interacted more casually with each other it seemed, at least it did on Elizabeth's part. Just through small details like the way she was casually leaning in the doorframe or her tone of voice. She wasnt so awkwardly polite...but Lucas still was. Lucas is so polite it's uncomfortable. Like I don't feel like anybody could just be themselves around him, bc it's like every meeting has this awkward air of being polite to an acquaintance you dont know well. Ugh it's so weird. I didnt like that Elizabeth told him Nathan's reveal. I feel she should have kept that to herself. Ugh and then Lucas wanted to act all protective and 'talk' to Nathan. Oh please. That is not his place. Elizabeth is obviously the one who needs to talk with Nathan and it's no one else's business what goes in between them, besides Allie of course. And speaking of Allie, I thought her scenes were really good and thoughtful. I still think it was weird that Lucas got her a gift for her adoption ceremony, but whatever we are past that now. I like that her character is being more mature about everything too. I really hope we get a scene where Allie and Elizabeth have their own conversation though. They need it. I'm not sure how I feel about that obvious Paul (Florence's son) having a crush on Allie. It seems that the writers will want them to like each other. I guess it could be cute? It's just a little awkward bc we havent seen this Paul kid around before so it creates a weird air that the only reason he shows up now is to be a school crush for Allie. Eh. Jaeda was great though and I think she did her scenes well.

After Lucas and E talked, I think it's obvious to Lucas that Elizabeth has strong feelings for Nathan and that she's just running away from them. I mean, she told Lucas that when Nathan told her he loves her all she could do was say nothing and just leave. *holds out arms and stares with a 'well, there you have it' expression'* IT DOESNT GET ANY CLEARER THAN THAT. I wonder if the writers will make Lucas step down bc he cant be with someone who will never love him. Idk how Lucas will react honestly, Lucas's character is such a mystery to me I could never know what he would do in a situation that didnt involve setting up a perfectly romantic date or sweet talking someone with an annoyingly, unrealistic, perfectly understanding polite response.

Elizabeth was also super rude to the people she cares about in this episode. The way she talked to Rosemary. First, she didnt like hearing what Rosemary had to say, which implies that she may have been blaming Nathan for Jack's death. That is such a horrible thing to hold against someone. I mean I could understand why she would feel that way but just for a moment. I mean she should understand how completely wrong and irrational that thought process is and that she shouldnt blame Nathan. TWO, then she had the nerve to tell Rosemary something like 'why would you think that comment would help me right now'. Wow Elizabeth. Gee, maybe she's saying the truth and she's also your friend and just trying to talk things through and give her opinion as a way to help you through your difficult situation. God forbid she doesnt say the perfect thing that you needed to hear at that time, she can't read your mind. I thought that was incredibly rude. It hurt to see Rosemary hurt. And then later she told her that she should leave her house. *SCOFF* man, she was really hitting Rosemary hard this episode. If I were in Rosemary's shoes, yes I would be hurt, but I think I would mostly be understanding of what Elizabeth might be going through and not take anything personally. E's lucky that Rose is such a good friend. OH! What Rosemary told Nathan in the library! She totally implied with her little metaphor comparison that Nathan was making Elizabeth unhappy by getting in the way of true love, i.e. Lucas and Elizabeth. I-- wow! Everyone is against this man. I'm so glad that Nathan stands firm. I mean he knows that Elizabeth feels strongly for him based off her reactions to his honesty with her and how she never denies anything and just runs away. I mean, it's plain as day. Let's not forget the *speechless gaze into each other's eyes* 'I can't' from Honestly, Elizabeth.

I think that's it regarding the love triangle. I absolutely despise the Faith and Carson relationship. And I cant believe they made him say, come with me to Baltimore and we can see in a year if we want to get married. That is so dumb. He just asked Faith to drop everything and leave her life in Hope Valley for a 'I might break up with you in a year' situation. Dumb. This is definitely out of character for Carson. It's obvious the writers are just trying to get rid of him and make him not be missed by the audience. They clearly want us to favor Faith, but she couldnt be more annoying honestly. I wish she were leaving and Carson would stay in Hope Valley. But whatever.

I dont like how every side plot seems to be about some couple's budding relationship. I mean aside from the love triangle, we have Florence and Ned, Molly and Bill, Clara and Jesse (though not a budding relationship, it's still all about their relationship) and now Rachel and Christopher and oh yes also Fiona and whoever that guy is and wow I'm still missing Faith and Carson. Thats 6 other romantic relationships in the show (not including the also important one of Rosemary and Lee) and I'm probably leaving one out. Oh yes, now possibly Allie and Paul. 7. Seven relationship side plots!!! Omg I'm going crazy!! They need to learn how to write some actual plot! What happened to town problems and family drama! Thank goodness we have Henry Gowen and his son (cant believe I just complimented that out of nowhere concept but hey) and the oil thing with Lucas and Henry, barely ever a plot line. This show needs better writing. There's no glue holding the town together and even when there is, it's so small or happens so fast that it doesnt have any long lasting and meaningful affect.

If I weren't so invested in Elizabeth's plotline and in need of some wholesome tv, I would have stopped watching a long time ago. Oh and the last thing. The mention of Abigail. I'm so glad Henry mentioned her because she was very important to him and his character growth. His character arc is one of the saving graces of the show and it needs to be given more attention.

Okay in short, Elizabeth was hecka rude, Nathan is wonderful and so was that office scene. We also stan Allie. Next week's episode also looks like a dud and I dont think much will happen.

[lukneetoonz]

Ghost of You Part IV

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Summary: You were the greatest thing in Katsuki’s life…. now you’re gone.

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, graphic descriptions of medical stuff, cursing, mentions of cheating.

Word Count: 1,845

A/N: Hey everyone, so this is it, the end! I’m a little- I don’t know. I don’t condone cheating in ANY WAY, so writing this I kinda wanted something that made people happy.

NO ARTWORK POSTED IS MY OWN AND IS FOUND ON PINTEREST

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How did it all go wrong? Not even wrong, how did it go from bad to worse? You were breathing, you had a steady heart rate. How is it you can go from somewhat peaceful, to being crowded by hospital staff as they did whatever they were doing, supplies being screamed for, lights going dim, and rushed hands moving about your body. You were supposed to be okay- so why were you suddenly not okay?

Bakugou Katsuki looked into your room, time almost slowing down as his face held no emotion, he swore that even his own heartbeat started slowing down as he looked on. Kirishima tried talking to his ash blonde friend, only to be completely ignored, almost like he wasn’t even there. The flowers that were in bakugou's hand, dropped to the floor, and without another word, he started walking away.

He had gotten a bouquet of your favorite flowers, he thought maybe they’d brighten up the room a bit, maybe even hide the sterile smell. But coming back to this- it made him realise he needed to stop pretending. Even if you lived, you would never take him back. Why would you? He did the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do; break your heart.

*•*

Voices were loud and clear, they were- panicked? No, they sounded rushed. Almost like they needed to do the task at hand or something bad would happen. Everything slowly started coming back to you, and then you realized you were choking? Why were you choking? What was happening? Panicked, you started freaking out, strangled cries coming from you as you finally opened your eyes, only to be met by multiple faces staring down at you.

“Push a sedative into her IV, she’s becoming fully aware” A deep voice called for someone, before a finger was waving in front of your eyes, “Y/N, can you hear me?” You gave a meek nod, coughing as you felt something being pulled from your throat, leaving a sore feeling behind. “Good… good. Can you please follow my finger with just your eyes?” As you hacked up- god knows what, you did as you were asked and followed the gloved finger, making sure not to move your head.

“Lungs sound good, so does her heart.” You were met with relieved smiles, a couple of the people exiting the room as your bed was moved to sit up, a cup of water handed to you and you didn’t hesitate to grab it. Starting to look around, you were met with a very bleak room, and it didn’t take a scientist to figure out you were in the hospital. “Hi, Y/N? I’m Dr Deyoung, can you tell me everything you remember? I can come back if you need?”

Shaking your head, you tried speaking, only to cough and need a drink. After a minute, you opened your mouth and started speaking, your voice raspy and hoarse. “I- there were villains, wanting us to give them the information on pro hero’s. They knew we had it because we are a support agency” Slowly, you started remembering more and more, eyes going wide, you looked up and around, “Katsu- Where's katsu?”

Before you could get a response, kirishima came barging in, a thankful smile spreading across his face. “oh thank god-” Running to your side, kirishima pat your head, happy tears streaming down his face. “Thank you for not dying.” A laugh escaped you, making you slightly cough again, but you brushed it off. As happy as you were to see the red hero, you wanted to see another hero- one with ash blonde hair.

“Is he here?” Kirishima slumped, scratching his neck he avoided your gaze, “h-he was… but when he thought you were crashing he left. He hasn’t left your side though, like at all…” Nodding, you slowly processed what the redhead just told you. “I- can you tell him I’m okay? But… I don’t think he should come back… at least- for now… I need some time to think.” Kiri nodded, quickly ruffling your hair before he walked out, planning on finding his explosive friend.

Bakugou was outside sitting on a bench with his head in his hands, trying his best to get the image of you in that bed removed from his memory. He heard the running footsteps towards him, but he simply ignored them. Katsuki knew it was probably his friend, but he just wanted to be left alone, and he also didn’t want to hear how you were gone forever. Soft pants left kirishima as he sat next to the ash blonde, “She's awak-” something set Bakugou off as he heard the words he’s been waiting to hear, yet for some reason he was pulled down by kirishima.

“Let me finish…. she’s awake, but she said she needs time before she sees you. You owe her that.” That’s right… you weren’t his anymore, he wasn’t entitled the right to see you. Why did he think that when you woke up it would be like a dream and he’d get to hold you again. Katsuki took a few steps back before gulping, forcing himself to look at the ground, “I- I understand… see you later kirishima.” A hoarse whisper left the red eyed hero before walking away.

*•*

When you were released from the hospital, you went home to a small get together filled with your friends and loved ones. Even if you were out, you still had a gloomy feeling around you. You knew that you would have to talk to Bakugou at some point, because honestly you didn’t like how it ended nor did you like not having him in your life.

Bakugou was a mess, once again. His apartment was in the worst state it had ever been, he only drank alcohol, and he stopped taking care of himself. Yet he kept in mind on how you were much better without him in your life. You said you’d talk to him- but after two months, he gave up on the hope that he had. Once again you stopped talking to him, just like that you were out of his life. If it wasn’t for him stalking your social media, he would have thought you never existed…

3 Years Later

Red eyes followed your form that walked down the aisle dressed in white. Bakugou had to tear his eyes away or else he would have cried, he even might have ran up to you and kissed you right there. But he couldn’t, he could never do that to his best friend. The one that was waiting for you to say ‘I do’. Katsuki couldn’t even be upset, because kirishima asked him a million times if it was okay and apologized when the relationship started because you kissed him suddenly.

Even if Bakugou wanted to scream out and say no, tell him to back off, he couldn’t. He refused to be the cause of another heartbreak for you, plus never did the ash blonde think it would have led to this. You walking down the aisle with him standing at the altar, but merely standing behind the actual groom. As you arrived to stand before everyone, kirishima took your hands and kissed your knuckles, a shining smile on his face as you both stared at each other with love.

When the priest started talking, Bakugou toned out every word, the words now mere background noise to the nightmare he was living. “Does anyone have any objections for why these two shall not be married? Speak now or forever hold your peace” shaking out of his thoughts Bakugou looked over Kirishima's shoulder to be met by your eyes, holding an emotion he couldn’t quiet. He may have been a pro hero, one that was constantly thrown into terrifying situations, but this was the scariest thing he has ever done.

“Me. I-I object.” Bakugou never whipped around so fast to see Kaminari Denki holding his hand up. To say that the explosive hero had wide eyes would be an understatement, jaw dropping as he quickly turned his head to look at you with a confused written expression. Kirishima blushed, his face now matching his hair as he looked to the ground, scratching his neck, “I- Y/N…” as he tried to form words, he just couldn’t, Kaminari now stepping to be in front of kiri grabbing his hands. “Please… choose me. I’m begging you Eijiro, you can’t possibly sit here and say that we aren’t worth fighting for.”

Your eyes quickly scanned the two men before you as you started laughing, rubbing your hands over your face as you simply took off your heels and started walking away, “even if you said no, I’m not gonna marry you and see you unhappy Kiri… you deserve to be truly happy.” Even if you didn’t turn around, Bakugou could tell you were starting to cry, because he’s heard that tone of voice before. Kirishima tried forming words but he only looked away ashamed, “Y/N, I never meant to hurt you… I’m so sorry”

Bakugou was in such shock he didn’t know what to do, but before he decided he was already running after you, trying to reach you before it was too late. Bursting through the doors he squinted his eyes from the shining sun, blinking a couple of times to find himself laying on the ground and looking at Kirishima and Kaminari looking down at him with worried faces. “Bakugou? Can you hear me? C'mon bro you can’t not be okay, Y/N needs you.” A shaky voice that belonged to his best friend made Bakugou try and focus better, groaning as he rubbed his head.

“What the fuck is going on?” Going to sit up, Kirishima put his hand on bakugou's shoulder, “Take it easy… there was a villain with a powerful nightmare quirk and it was crazy, you wouldn’t respond to anything but passed out after an hour.” Soaking in the new information, he was confused. What the hell was he just living in?

“I need Y/N… where is she?” Kirishima laughed, shaking his head, “Don’t worry, she’s at her job. We texted her already and she said she’ll be on her way soon…” Bakugou nodded slowly, taking a deep breath in, “Good… good.” A frown appeared on the red head's face, “That villain really did a number on you huh?” The meek nod from Katsuki only made Kirishima frown harder, “It’s okay man… it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real….”

Taglist; @katsukiswhore @leeeah-loooser @do-not-talk-to-me-i-am-awkward @desia2 @katsukiwonu @xxlushika @lov4kbg @aj-1154 @six-piece-chicken-mcnobody @nekee-lilac02

[heywardsarchive]

a beautiful dream

Remus Lupin x reader                                                                                Remus is my absolute favourite marauder and he doesn’t get enough love. So in his honour, enjoy this oneshot.

warning: fluff to angst, remus being pessimistic and a few swear words

gif not mine credits to the owner

this is for Ria’s 2k writing challenge. @im-a-writer-right​

word count 4k words

lets begin~

Magic had made many things possible. It made many things easier as well. But there were some stupid things that in my opinion were stupid. One of those things was the idea of soulmates. Who gave the ministry of magic the right to decide who i was meant for? Well, if i’m being honest at first the thought of having a soulmate fascinated  me. I was so happy to know i had someone out there for me. Well, that was until i developed a crush on none other than Remus Lupin.

We met on the hogwarts express before first year started. I was sitting in a carriage with my oldest and most annoying best friend- James Potter. James was like a brother to me, a very annoying possessive brother. He made sure to sit with me on the carriage and make me part of his group. Basically what was his was mine as well. Anyway I became the fifth marauder. The  mom of the group. It was upon me to look after them (mostly James and Sirius because they were both big babies who needed loads of attention.) and make sure they didn’t do anything too stupid (I obviously failed most of the time and they always ended up in detention) Some people even called me their mom. 

I’m getting off track. Where was i? Ah, yes. The whole soulmate thing. Basically on your 16th birthday you develop a connection with your soulmate and can hear their thoughts and feel their emotions. Isn’t that like an invasion of privacy?My friends say that I’m just being difficult because i have a crush on someone else and cannot accept the prospect of him dating another person. I hate to admit it but they are right. 

my 16th birthday was in a few weeks and James decided that i needed a huge birthday party and there was no way he was taking  no for an answer. After a lot of protest from me and a lot of bribing from James and the occasional puppy dog eyes from Sirius I gave in. They started giving out duties to everyone. I while on my prefect rounds had to help Sirius sneak out to Hogsmeade where he would buy drinks. I made him promise not to get any alcohol but was he going to listen to me? No. The days flew by very quickly and i was not happy. I made my unhappiness very vocal among my friends. They were surprised because i was one of the few who hated the soulmate system. To get to the bottom of the whole situation, the night before my birthday, they surrounded me asked  no demanded I tell them why i suddenly hated the whole soulmate thing. After beating around the bush for i long time i sighed and said,” I have a crush on Remus okay? I can’t bare the thought of someone else being his soulmate.” “Aw honey, don’t be sad. What if Remus is your soulmate?” Lily said, trying to lift my spirits. It was a good effort but i was still dejected. They saw my sad state and dropped the subject. I was grateful for that.

We chatted a bit more after that but i was tired so i went to bed. I could have slept in but no, at 8am Lily, Alice and Marlene blew a party horn so loudly near my ear that i thought there was fire and woke up frantically. My face must have been a sight to see because they burst out laughing. Meanies. To make my morning even more eventful, the boys were waiting at the foot of the staircase waiting for me to arrive just so they could wish me so loudly that the entire gryffindor tower woke up. “That was unnecessary.” I scolded them. “Yes mummy.” said Sirius and i shot him a glare. “So y/n any plans of finding your soulmate today?” James asked throwing an arm around me. I had totally forgotten that from today onward i could another person’s thoughts. Ugh. 

“Well?” Said James looking hopefully at me. “I don’t like the whole idea of soulmates anymore, you know that James.” I said looking at him. For some odd reason, i felt a wave of sadness wash over me. Weird. I ignored it and threw my arm around the Sirius’ shoulder. “So Pads what do you have planned for yours truly today.” He put his arm around my waist and head on my shoulder. Jealousy washed over me. Why was my soulmate feeling all negative emotions? It wasn't wierd to me because sirius was like the brother I never had. "Well love, we have planned something extra special for you." "Tell me what it is." I have him puppy dog eyes. "You'll get to know soon enough." I gave him one more pout before giving up. "Ok that's enough." Came a voice. Remus. "Let's go eat breakfast." I nodded and followed him and the marauders to the Great Hall. Lily, Alice and Marlene had already been seated there and saved me place. I sat down across Remus who was picking at his food. The full moon was close so he probably was unhappy. "Remus are you alright?" I asked. "Yeah, just peachy." I decided not to press further and let it go.

I chatted with the girls for a while before telling them I'm going for a walk. They seemed happy to see me leave probably because I knew they had a surprise planned for me before my party. Anyway, I sat under a tree near the Black lake and thought that I might as well contact my soulmate since we're stuck together anyway. I closed my eyes. "Hello?" No reply. I tried again. "Hello? Soulmate, you there?" Maybe they weren't 16 yet. (Remus' birthday is in march so if your birthday is before March 10 just pretend it's not)But wait, that's not possible. I could feel their emotions just a few hours back. Was my soulmate ignoring me? Uh, rude. "Ok mr soulmate if you don't want to talk to me that's fine. I'm as unhappy about this soulmate rubbish as you are since you're clearly ignoring me." Guilt. Aha caught him.

"I wasn't ignoring you. I was busy." Oh so now he replies. "Well that was rude." "I'm sorry." Atleast he apologized. "So what year are you in?" Wait that was a dumb question. He's probably in his sixth or seventh year like me. "I'm in my sixth year." "Oh! Me too! Which house are you in? Im a gryffindor." "Yeah, I'm a gryffindor too." Okay. So a gryffindor sixth year. I probably know him. "Do I know you?" "Probably. What's your name?" "Y/n." I felt shock wash over me. After that there was no reply just a series of shit shit shit. The cursing stopped abruptly when he probably realised I could hear him. He started singing dance like a hippogriff to cover up his thoughts, I think. I guess my soulmate likes someone else too. I decided to return back to my dorm until the girls decided to take me to my surprise.

When I walked into the dorm I expected it to be empty and not filled to the brim with balloons? Why were there a million balloons in my dorm. "It's for your surprise. Crap." Ah so he is one of the marauders. Oh dear god please not James. I can't see him in that way. This is bad. Then again maybe it isn't the marauders. They could have told the other boys what they were doing. You never know with those boys. They covered my eyes with a cloth and then sirius picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. Dear god what is happening? I was carried a long distance before I was set down on the grass. "Can I take off the cloth now?" "Not yet, not untill Lily and the others arrive." I waited for about five minutes I think when the cloth was removed. "Happy Birthday!" They all cheered. They had brought to me to my favourite spot on the courtyard near the Black Lake. Lily had brought a birthday cake that was frosted with (f/c) frosting. "Aw guys that's so sweet of you! You didn't need to do all this for me!" "Come off it (y/n/n)! You do this for us every year! You deserve it!" I smiled at them. How did I get so lucky?

"you deserve the world" Thank you soulmate I appreciate that. But that comment made my suspicion that my soulmate was one of the marauders stronger. I was determined to find out who it was.

Remus' pov

After we gave y/n her cake and gifts the girls dragged her to their dorm for some girl time and to get ready for her birthday party. When we returned to our dorm, I shut the door and sausy. "Guys. I have a problem." "What's up dear moony? " Sirius said. "I found my soulmate." I told them. "Finally! I guess they turned 16 recently. But why is it a problem." "It's y/n." Sirius smirked and James snickered. "So our darling star (your nickname cuz of your animagus being a wolf.) Is your soulmate. And that is a problem why?" "I can't date her. Im a monster what if she hates me?" James sighed. "Remus, if she hated you she wouldn't have become an animagus for you, she wouldn't hang out with us and she's have stopped talking to us a long time ago." "He's right you know, and besides y/n has a crush on you." Peter piped in. She likes me? Y/n likes me? I thought.

"woah there soulmate I don't even know you. You mustn't always listen to rumours." Oops I forgot she could hear my thoughts. Dang it. "Also soulmate please stop feeling 5 emotions at the same time because it's very confusing." Yep it was our sassy y/n alright. "Sorry." No reply. I started to get ready for the party. I dressed up in a simple shirt and pant. I read a book while waiting for the boys to get dressed. "Nice book. Whatcha reading?" Came her voice. "Little women. It's a great book." "I must read it one day then. Or maybe I can just hear you read it." I smiled at her. She was so sweet. "Yes I know I'm sweet." She commented sarcastically. I laughed and shook my head. "So soulmate when will I know who you are?" "You won't like me if you know me." "Don't be so pessimistic, you're just like my friend... REMUS? IS THIS YOU?" Shit shit shit "no it's not Remus." "I don't believe it. Remus, what are you so scared of?" "Look I'm not Remus and i dont have time for this right now. Goodbye."  How could i be so stupid? Before i could think anything else, the boys had gotten dressed and were ready to head downstairs. 

y/n was waiting in her gryffindor robes for Sirius at the portrait hole so he could go and get the required supplies while y/n did her prefect rounds. Luckily for me i didn’t have rounds today. I would have to deal with the consequences later. She saw me and looked like she wanted to say something but Sirius dragged her out saying that if it got too late they would get caught. She sighed and reluctantly followed him out. “Okay, what’s going on between you two?” “She figured out i was her soulmate and i got frantic and told her i wasn’t.” “Why would you do that?” “I don’t know, i got scared.” James just shook his head and patted my back before returning to charming the room to be soundproof and putting the decoration up. Not long after, the party had started. Sirius and y/n had returned. she went up to get dressed. She returned wearing the most beautiful (f/c) sundress and I think my heart just stopped.

"take a picture it will last longer" "what? I wasn't staring at you. I don't even know where you are." "Don't lie Remus we both know it's you." I didn't reply. The party started and it was loads of fun. Everyone was dancing and having a gala time, but I couldn't take my eyes off y/n. She danced with her friends and laughed with others. The party went on untill midnight when everyone retired to their respective dorms. I knew I was going to have to face y/n in the morning and I was scared. But I put my thoughts aside annd went to bed. I couldn't sleep much that night. I ended up waking up at 6 and decided to read in the common room. I sat by the fire side and started reading.

'I want to do something splendid...something heroic or wonderful that won't be forgotten after I'm dead.'

"I don't know what, but I'm on the watch for it and mean to astonish you all someday." Said a voice. One I know very well. Y/n. "I read the book you know, after you said that I was good. I finished it in a day." I avoided her eyes feeling embarassed. I felt betrayal wash over me. She was definitely hurt. "Why did you lie Remus? I thought we were friends?" "I'm sorry. I couldn't bring myself to believe that someone like you is my soulmate." "What do you mean?" The hurt in her eyes was replaced by concern. "You know what I am y/n. I can hurt you in so many ways. You deserve someone who will be able to take care of you. Someone who doesn't need to go running every full moon." "And yet we're soulmates. Remus, if we were not good for each other we wouldn't be soulmates." "You were the one who didn't like the soulmate system." "That was because my heart belonged to someone else, you. I had a crush on you since 4th year. I couldn't accept that maybe we were just destined to be friends." "I liked you since third year too." "Then why won't you just let me love you? I accept you Rem. If I didn't I wouldn't have become an animagus for you. I wouldn't be friends with you. I love you and I care for you. Accept that." She smiled at me and held my hand. I could feel all the adoration she had for me. "If you're sure." I told her and closed the gap between us. I could feel fireworks and my heart felt complete. All I felt was her lips moving against mine and how happy I felt. I pulled away and smiled at her. "I love you too."

Just as the words escaped my lips I heard wolf whistles and cheering in the background. "Our moony has finally grown up." Said James wiping a fame tear and sirius laughed. I looked at y/n and she hugged me. "Im still pissed at you for earlier but I can't stay mad at you for long can I?" I laughed and pecked her lips. I was finally happy.

*****

We were sitting in the common room a few moths later when James and Sirius ran inside yelling at each other. Lily sighing as she walked behind them. "Y/n your children are fighting again." Y/n glared at Lily and I snickered. She elbowed me hard. "Firstly I am not their mother during the school term. Secondly why are you two bickering again?" "You clearly act like it." Marlene muttered and y/n just ignored her. "James hexed snivellus and blamed it on me and now Minnie is behind my life!" "James! That was wrong. When will you ever act your age?" "See?" Marlene yelled. Once again she was ignored. Sirius and James kept bickering when all of a sudden sirius looked at me all seriously. "If y/n is our mother does that mean you are our father?" Marlene and James burst out laughing and y/n looked like she wanted to strangle Sirius. "SIRIUS BLACK FOR THE LAST TIME I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER IN SCHOOL!" The whole room fell silent for a few seconds before laughter filled it again. This time y/n joined in too. I love her. "I love you too you know." She turned around and winked and I felt my cheeks heat up.

Seventh year came and went by quickly. We were on our way home for the last time on the Hogwarts express. Everyone was discussing their future plans. I stayed silent. Who would employ a werewolf? Y/n literally sensing my discomfort came closer to me and held my hand. She shot me a small smile and I instantly felt better. I studied her profile and realised how much she meant to me. The train came to half. We walked out slowly taking in the feeling of the train. We stepped out of the carriage and hugged each other goodbye. "We must meet up often." Said James who had an arm wrapped around Lily's waist. (They were soulmates. Big shocker am I right?) Everyone nodded in agreement. Everyone started to walk away in their respective directions. I held y/n's hand and told her to wait a bit. She looked at me questioningly. "I've been thinking-" "uh oh." She snickered a bit. "The last time you were thinking you thought I would not want to be with you." I glared at her a bit and she suppressed her laughter. "Marry me." "What?" "You heard me. Let's get married. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." I felt various emotions wash over me. Shock , fear, love and finally pity. "Remus I love you too but aren't we tok young? We just finished Hogwarts. I would love to marry you. Just, not yet." "Alright thats fine." She could tell I was hurt but made no comment.

A few days passed we barely spoke to each other. Suddenly out of the blue she aparated into my apartment. "Ok, let's do it. Let's get married." "Wait. Seriously?" "Yes." She pulled me in for a kiss. "I thought about it and I want to spend the rest of my life with you too." I was ecstatic! Over the moon! She laughed at my reaction and I fumbled to pull out my mother's ring. "This was mum's before she died. And I want you to have it." "Rem, this is so beautiful. Thankyou." "Let's go tell the others and your parents and my dad." She nodded. We told everyone and they were all happy for us. We got married a few months later in a small ceremony. We moved in together in a cosy apartment which we bought together. A few months after that Lily and James got married. Life was looking better for us. Lily was pregnant. Soon after that a dark lord called voldemort was on the rise. He was killing muggles and wizards alike. Everyone was terrified. On July 31 1980 Harry Potter was born. He was the ray of light in our dark lives.

All of us spent our time together savouring every minute. Then came the prophecy of the chosen one. The child born on the end of July who could kill the dark lord. He had decided that it was Harry and was out for his blood. Lily and James had to go into hiding. A fidelius charm was placed on both sirius and y/n. Only Sirius' name was disclosed. Then Peter was put under the charm as well. Then the dreaded happened. Voldemort had come to know about the Potter's hiding spot and killed them. Baby Harry was alive but lily and James were dead. Sirius was put in azkaban without trial although it was the rat Peter who gave out their location.

Y/n who had been studying to become a lawyer in the wizengamot fought for custody of Harry after he was placed under the care of his horrid aunt. After all, she had the right to do so as she was his godmother and the Potter's will stated that Harry was to be under her or Sirius' care. I saw her come home in tears after our best friends had died. She promised herself to avenge their death. It killed me to see her blaming herself so much. After a long year of her hard work, Harry's custody was finally passed onto us. I was so proud of my wife. The next thing y/n had to do was prove Sirius' innocence which was an easier task. She declared herself as the second secret keeper and after being put under verataseruim Sirius was declared an innocent man and Peter was being searched for. Things started to look up again. Y/n started to laugh again. She spent most of her time with Sirius (who temporarily moved in with us) Harry and me.

"Remus, do you want children?" She asked me one day out of the blue. "Ofcourse I do. But what if they inherit my lycanthropy?" "Then we'll love them as I love you." I hugged her tight. A few months later we got the news that y/n was expecting. I felt immense joy. I had never been happier. Harry was already 7 by then. He lived a happy life surrounded by people who love him. When he started Hogwarts he had a little god sister to look after. We named her Hope after my mother. She loved Harry and Harry loved her. She didn't inherit my lycanthropy which was a relief to me.

Everything seemed fine for many years until voldemort was on the rise again. We fought a battle once, we could do it again. With that thought in mind, y/n and I stood together, holding hands as the death eaters attacked the beautiful castle that I once called home. We stayed together the whole time. When I was duelling a death Eater another one came from behind me. He muttered a curse. "No!" Y/n called jumping in front of me taking the hit of the curse. She fell down on the ground with a deep gash on her chest. She started breathing heavily. "Remus.." "No no you can't die." I sobbed. "Im not worth dying for." "Oh darling, you are worth everything. Don't cry Rem, think of the good times. " "No" I sobbed. "Kiss me one last time, hug me one last time, tell me you love me one last time and tell Hope that she's my world." I sobbed but obliged. I hugged her and kissed her hard. Pouring out all my sadness into it. "I love you y/n. Always." "I love you too my love, always and forever..."

3rd person POV

Just as the words died in her lips, his world had ended. He felt a numbing silence wash over him as the reality of her death hit him. Everything felt around him felt like a blur because all that was left of his beloved was a beautiful dream.

[simul16]

Low Effort in Their Own Way

All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." - Leo Tolstoy, "Anna Karenina"

I've been watching a fair amount of D&D content on YouTube of late, for varying reasons, and if I may paraphrase Tolstoy's famous quote above, I've learned that all good D&D channels make high-effort content, while each bad D&D channel makes low-effort content in its own way.

Low-effort content tends to be:

Content that is or can be created quickly; it doesn't require a lot of prep time (and the presentation usually allows this limited prep time to show)

Content that copies current trends; while a certain amount of response to significant events in the gaming world is to be expected, low-effort channels regularly feature content that basically boils down to 'here's my reaction to whatever rumor or scandal is currently being talked about among the community'

Content that does not spark or contribute to a discussion; when such channels go beyond simply recapitulating a recent event, they frequently spend very little time explaining their own reaction and seldom spend any time at all explaining or exploring contrary opinions except to make jokes or elicit emotional reactions from an over-simplified or straw-man version of the contrary opinion

Now let's start off by saying that I'm not knocking low-effort content per se; anybody who knows anything about online marketing can tell you that low-effort content has a role to play in any marketing strategy. Ideally, though, your low-effort content, the stuff that you can get out the door quickly and easily and get in front of your potential customers, exists to guide those customers to your higher-quality content that convinces them to buy your product, order your service, or otherwise become someone who believes that you have something of value to say. Because it's cheap and easy to produce, low-effort content can be cast far and wide to serve as a net to capture many potential viewers and guide them to the gold mine of the really important stuff you have to say. Unfortunately, when your low-effort content is what you have to say, it very much begs the question of what exactly it is people should be coming to your channel for.

Here are a few but by no means an exhaustive list of the YouTube channels that to me seem to feature way too much low-effort content.

The Dungeon Dudes

The Dungeon Dudes are two guys (Kelly McLaughlin and Monty Martin) who mainly do scripted back-and-forth style discussions of D&D-related topics. I've talked about the Dungeon Dudes before, when taking apart one of their recent videos, but they also stream a D&D game they play in on Twitch (and frequently post recordings of those sessions on their channel), do product reviews, and generally do whatever they can to maintain a consistent pace of content output, generally a minimum of twice weekly. They've been around for nearly four years now, and have amassed about 273 thousand subscribers on their channel, with over 44 million views for their content, which seem like decent numbers for a niche content channel. (Contract with CinemaSins, which exists as a viral content manufacturer, and has amassed over 9 million subscribers and over 3.3 billion views. I'm not trying to say the Dungeon Dudes are the CinemaSins of D&D; if they were, their numbers would probably look a lot more like those of CinemaSins.)

The big problem with the Dudes as content creators is that, despite being a niche content channel, they are clearly in it to try to eke out some kind of income or living from the work they put into the channel: they've got a Patreon, they use affiliate links in the descriptions of their product review videos to gain some additional referrer income, and they do sponsored content when they can get a sponsor. They started back in the summer of 2017 with a very 2016-era plan on how to succeed at YouTube: put together a bunch of short (5-10 minutes, occasionally longer, but go over 15 minutes at your peril) videos and release them on an iron-clad schedule to get people used to coming back to your channel and looking over your new content, and to their credit, they've kept up their content production schedule very consistently over the past four years.

They've also learned a few things during that time and have adapted the channel in response: their videos explaining rules and reviewing new products tend to be more popular, so they work those topics in on a more regular basis. They've learned that the YouTube algorithm has subtly changed over the past few years to reward channels that can provide longer 'engagement' (which gives YouTube more opportunities to run ads), and have expanded their video length to an average of about a half-hour, with their re-broadcasts from Twitch being extra-long videos (between two and two-and-a-half hours) which, while drawing fewer total views, probably draw as much or more 'engagement' from the algorithm for the views they have.

But the need to spit out so much content on such a rigid, unforgiving schedule means that they have to aim for quick-creation and easy digestion: putting subclasses into a bog-standard tier ranking, making 'top five' and 'top ten' lists that seem like they're being cribbed from a more thoughtful resource, and generally getting stuff out the door (like their 'Powerful Spell Combos Using Teamwork' video) without spending too much time thinking about how valuable or even accurate their advice happens to be. More to the point, it seems to be taking its toll on the guys who serve as the hosts of the show: Kelly McLaughlin has a fairly dour expression in general, but lately he seems to have the countenance of a man who's about to post a 'very special episode' discussing the dangers of YouTuber burnout.

The Dungeon Dudes feature low-effort content because they have to in order to support the publishing frequency they've chosen; if they were to take the time to put together a truly high-effort piece regarding one of their traditional topics, their Patreon subscribers would likely be asking why their release schedule had slowed down before their work was even half-done.

Dungeon Craft

The Dungeon Craft channel is run by a fellow who refers to himself as 'Professor Dungeon Master'; I have not yet found any reference in his channel or elsewhere that identifies who he actually is, so I'll just refer to him as Prof. Prof has been on YouTube a bit longer than the Dungeon Dudes, having launched his channel in October of 2016, and has put out 185 'episodes' (as of the time of this writing), thus averaging between three and four episodes per month. Prof's own 'trailer' video explicitly states his channel's concept: "Some channels focus on running the game, others on building terrain, others on painting minis. I do it all!" You might think, then, that this would be a place to find quite high-quality content, especially related to terrain and miniatures painting tips, but it seems like the main effect of Prof making his channel be about multiple topics (and there are plenty of topics he discusses that don't fit into any of those three categories above) is that he can't successfully communicate what his channel is actually about, other than about his specific opinions. Maybe that's the reason he's sitting at about 65 thousand subscribers and just under 5 million views.

However, being at a slightly lower 'tier' of content production than the Dungeon Dudes is not itself any kind of crime or even indicative of poor quality -- after all, one of my favorite D&D lore channels on YouTube is RavenloftTravelAgent, and she's got just over a thousand subscribers and only about 50 thousand views on her videos. No, Prof could have a very high-quality, high-content channel with the subscriber numbers and views he has, but he doesn't.

Prof's issue is almost exactly the opposite of that of the Dungeon Dudes: instead of cranking out a rapid-fire, breakneck volume of content to keep up with an arbitrary content production schedule because that's how you make a living producing content for YouTube and you have to keep feeding the hungry algorithm, Prof cranks out content that's very easy for him to write because he's been involved in the game for a long time and already knows that the way he learned to play the game is the best way. Any topic that comes up related to D&D, he's got an opinion and can spit out a script explaining his opinion quickly because it's the same opinion he's held for decades. Classic D&D didn't have skills, so the next edition of D&D shouldn't have them either. Classic D&D had slow advancement, so slow advancement is better than fast advancement. This becomes even more obvious in the videos that have very little or nothing to do with running a D&D game, such as where Prof explains why he thought Avengers: Endgame sucked, or why he thought Season 8 of Game of Thrones was 'nearly perfect'.

Some of the oddest episodes of Dungeon Craft have to do when Prof makes admissions that make him out to be, well, the D&D channel for 'that kind' of old-school gamer: the ones who can make comments to each other that they can't make in front of their wives or significant others because the latter find the comments sexist, the kind of guys you can complain to about not being able to tell a Polack joke at work, the guys who treated D&D in the 1980s and 1990s the way that guys in the 1950s and 1960s treated golf where they could build a wall between the world as it existed and the world as they wanted to believe it was (and, if we're being honest, the way that they believed it should actually be). Nowhere is this more evident than in the video where Prof starts by discussing the hot, rich girlfriend he had once who tried but never got into D&D who he just had to break up with, and which by the 3 minute mark has him "calling bullshit" on the idea that relationships are built on compromise and negotiation. (I mean, you saw this coming, right? Right there at the end of the last paragraph about how the ending of Game of Thrones was so good? You knew that's where this was going, right?)

And, of course, he's not immune to just jumping on the latest bandwagon to contribute his drone to the chorus of voices talking about things just to be talking about things. It shouldn't be surprising that Prof jumped on the bandwagon of the lawsuit brought by Hickman and Weis against Wizards of the Coast over the upcoming Dragonlance trilogy, which turned out to be a nothing-burger. Even weirder is the tag in the description of that video which says "Analysis you can't get anywhere else", even though the video doesn't contain anything that hadn't already been discussed over the three weeks between the lawsuit and Prof's video other than Prof's own opinions about it. My favorite howler that Prof makes in this video is his assertion that, because Hickman and Weis got a lawyer to file a lawsuit, that means there's definitely fire under that smoke, because "big law firms do not accept cases they don't think they can win", which both ignores the existence of SLAPP suits as well as the existence of authors who seem to take perverse glee in suing rival authors just to drive them out of the industry. He's also responded with multiple videos in response to Cody at Taking20s controversial 'illusion of choice' essay, and his response to Ginny Di's essay on making online D&D suck less didn't include any of Ginny's solid advice on making online play more compatible with an in-person mentality (recognizing interruptive behavior, or using text chat to maintain side-conversations that would otherwise not be distracting in person), but instead gave these recommendations to players:

Keep your camera turned on

Mute yourself when not talking

Don't distract yourself with technology during the game

Nothing specific on recognizing how online play differs from tabletop play and suggesting ways to bring those two styles closer together, just commands because he's the DM and he says so. Or, in other words, low-effort, opinion-based content.

Nerd Immersion

Nerd Immersion, a channel by Ted that started in May of 2014 and has amassed over 70 thousand subscribers, starts his "channel trailer" video by leafing through a book, then looking up and saying, "Oh, hello" as if he'd just noticed that there was a camera on pointing at him while he's sitting in his orange-trimmed gaming chair. That, sadly, is roughly the level of thought that goes into the actual content contained on this long-tenured but seemingly still super-niche channel.

The weird thing is that at some point, it was obvious that Ted put some real effort into this channel. There are defined sections of the channel that focus on particular things, avoiding the Dungeon Craft problem of 'what topic is our channel about this week?' On Tuesdays, Ted posts a top-10 list. Ted comes up with an idea for a series, like 'Fixing 5E' or 'Reviewing Unearthed Arcana', posts regular articles until he's said what he means to say, then ends the series. (There hasn't been a new Fixing 5E video in roughly a year, meaning that Ted isn't wasting his own time and that of the viewer continually beating horses he's long since killed.) And he comes up with some great ideas for series, such as his series reviewing products on the DMs Guild; that particular series comes out somewhat irregluarly, but not so irregularly that you think he may have stopped doing the series without telling you.

Nerd Immersion's big problem can be summed up by simply looking at the list of videos on his channel and noticing that when he puts his own face on the thumbnail of the video, the startling frequency with which he's shrugging or has a puzzled face or just seems to be presenting himself as if he's not sure what's happening in his own video. I mean, I get it -- that's his image, the personality he wants to present to his audience. He doesn't have all the answers (a refreshing change from Dungeon Craft, honestly), but has some things to share if you're interested, so go ahead and take a peek. But then you take a look at those different sections we spoke about earlier and see that the 'Fixing' series all have the word Fixing at the top of the screen, the Nerd Immersion logo in the top left, two images underneath the text, one on the right side of the page and one on the left, separated right down the middle, and they all have Fix-It Felix on the far right. The Top 10 videos always have Top 10 at the top of the thumbnail. The Unearthed Arcana reviews all have 'Unearthed Arcana' at the top, then 'Review' in an odd off-set to the right beneath 'Unearthed Arcana'.

In other words, Ted has a formula, and he's damn well going to follow it.

Now it's not a bad thing to have a workflow -- if you're going to be cranking out videos at the volume that Ted does (not to mention the others on this list), you'd better have some kind of process for making the video, getting the thumbnail on it, etc.; otherwise each new video is a horrible nightmare of effort as you re-invent the wheel for every project. Nobody wants to do that, and the results would likely be unwatchable. Having a process is a good thing. But the Dungeon Dudes clearly also have a process -- they've put out at least two videos a week for three and a half years, so they damn well have a process or they wouldn't have been able to get out that much content. Looking at their channel, though, shows you that while they have a brand, and one that's evolving over time to boot, they're not just making the same video over and over again, or at least you wouldn't think that from looking at the thumbnails.

Ted's most interesting videos are where he's interviewing another person or even just having another person in the video, because having another person around clearly takes him at least a bit outside his rigid formulaic comfort zone. The problem is that those videos are few and far between -- the review of the infernal tiefling is about eight months separated from his interview with Celeste Conowitch about her Venture Maidens campaign guide. Also interesting are his unboxing videos, because Ted clearly likes minis and takes some degree of joy in cracking open and looking at new minis. His unboxing videos aren't as irregular as his interview videos, but they are fairly recent, with the first appearing just a few months ago, so it's still not clear if this is going to be a new regular part of the channel, or just another series that goes until he says what he wants to say about minis and then stops.

Most of the stuff on the site, though, is just, well, stuff, cranked out on a formula and thrown out into the digital void with the same soft-spoken volume regardless of whether it's major news or a press release. As an example, while pretty much everybody had an opinion on the Dragonlance lawsuit, Ted covered when the suit was announced, when it was dismissed by Weis and Hickman, when the actual trilogy that was the subject of the novels was announced, and the official release date of the first book in the new trilogy. When it came time to get ready to announce the newest campaign book, Ted was on the job, posting a video preparing for the announcement, another video later the same day when his original prediction of a Feywild adventure book seemed to be contradicted by other rumors that the book would be a Ravenloft book, then posted yet another video when the actual book was leaked on Amazon at 11:24pm later that same day confirming Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft, posted the video discussing the official announcement of Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft the next day, and then the day after that followed up with more details on Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft revealed in Dragon+. That's five videos in three days, for a grand total of just over 100 thousand views combined. The intention seems like Ted wants to be the CNN of the D&D news scene, but with those kind of distribution numbers, the result is more like your local home town's shopping circular that occasionally also features stories about the latest project to fix the potholes on Main Street. Just like nobody's doing 24/7 news coverage of your local town council, nobody is (or probably should strive to) doing 24/7 coverage of the gaming industry and Wizards of the Coast. At some point it just becomes running a script, pressing a button to upload the next video, because it's news, and while you don't have to think about news to quite the same degree you have to think about more opinion-based topics, once you stop thinking about the process and what it is you're making, all you have left is executing the formula, over and over again, and both the input and the output becomes repetitive.

Repetitive videos, in repetitive formats, with repetitive text, to keep the monster fed for another day. I can admire the effort that goes into it, but the overwhelming presence of the formula involved in cranking out this content keeps me from feeling that it's worth engaging with. It's low-effort, because the effort has been meticulously removed from the process.

I could go on, but I think I'll stop here. There's not really any constructive criticism I could provide to these channels because, as I hope I've pointed out, it seems like low-effort content is pretty much the only thing these channels have to offer or in truth can offer, and anything that might cause their owners to re-consider their channels to improve their content would almost certainly lead to a very different if not wholly different channel. With things being as they are online, there's no guarantee that any new, higher-effort channel would be any more successful than the old low-effort one (remember the RavenloftTravelAgent channel with absolutely miniscule numbers; effort doesn't automatically equate with success). I can't even claim that being low-effort channels necessarily makes these channels bad (despite what I said in the intro); after all, they all have at least some good ideas, especially Nerd Immersion, and they each have subscribers and a following. I guess this is just my way of putting some small amount of effort into explaining why I don't feel like doing more to help these channels succeed, because I'd rather put my support toward channels making higher-quality, higher-effort content, especially because its not the content itself, but people engaging with that content that really drives a channel's success.

[asheewrites]

Rich Secretaries (named Jeff Fulton)

„Order denied,“ Jeff snarled, seconds after the crashing door made a dent in the wall. The plaster still trickled down.

Richard Dickenson slowly turned, leaning against the railing he slouched on before. The storm in 500 meters height apparently doing his hair favours. He looked amused of all things and leaned back, slightly slouching backwards. With a chuckle, he said: “You deny a direct order, mister Fulton? May I inquire about the sudden doubts?”

He looked like nothing was wrong. He looked like the world was at peace and like he hadn’t just- “You cancelled the deal! You cancelled the appointment! So the deal will fall through. If you don’t show up and convince them one last time, the last months were for nothing. I know that. You know that. And this is the third time you had a lapse in judgement! Leaving your phone with sound. Disappearing from meetings. Bad enough. But this. It will cost millions!”

With something like a growing smile, he looked towards the sky and his hand made a ‘what of it?’ gesture. And shrugged.

Kch.

Looking him over, he still had the bloody keys in is hand. A chicken nugget package on the key ring. The bloody thing already left dents in his hand, he held it so often.

Gritting his teeth, Jeff frowned and stared at his boss: “Can I be frank, Mr. Dickenson?”

“Sure, Frank,” he chuckled and looked at Jeff again, still amused, for some godawful reason.

“May I be sincere and honest with you, so our future working relationship can function without anything making it difficult?” Jeff said, voice level now.

At least that made him pause for a moment. Mister Dickenson smoothed out his features and tilted his head, then straightened up and nodded: “Certainly. You earned it after almost 18 months. Please, speak freely, no repercussions”

Jeff took a deep breath, then shook his head: “Mister Dickenson. This… relationship you seem to have. Your work suffers for it. Not only your work, honestly. Whenever that jingle sounds you immediately take out the phone and you always snap it closed. Your answers are almost snappy for a minute, too. Whoever it is, they make you unhappy more often than they make you happy. They apparently gave you their keys. Big deal. You never have time to go there. You know that, they know that. Just go pick up someone else. We both know for a fact there is a queue”

He tilted his head in the other direction - ‘hmm’-ing, rubbing his chin, the other arm, at his side, still clutching the keys too hard. Tsk.

“… how very… observant of you,” Mr. Dickenson said, looking at Jeff with an expression he had not worn before, at least not in his presence. For the first time, he was examined in return. Jeff wasn’t sure if it was a good feeling.

Gritting his teeth, Jeff pressed out: “Well. You are also hurting your hand with those keys. Maybe letting them – and their owner - go… is better for you?”

Richard looked at the fist containing the keys, almost curious. And opened his hand to examine his palm, rubbing the red lines and dangling the keys the key ring, he said: “Ah, you’re right again” and smiled.

“Ah,” Jeff smiled. And took his PDA out. “Good! Then we can get back on track and I can immediately delete the-“

“Heh. Not the letting go. But I do need to take better care of my hands. Not least of all since you are rather attracted to them, aren’t you?”

Jeff stopped writing. What. What? His ears heated up. This was very unprofessional. This was not at all the topic of discussion, either! “Excuse me?” He fixated him with a stare. Really, now.

Richard Dickenson took a breath. A small smile spread on his face and when he looked up from his hand to fixate on Jeff, he looked… relaxed. Kind. And… something Jeff couldn’t put his finger on. “You wouldn’t have suggested a rebound if you weren’t at least hopeful. New distractions wouldn’t help. But if it was you… no appointment would be missed anymore, would they?” He spoke softly, not even mocking, and while Jeff stared, he took a step towards him, hands in pockets now, looking those five centimetres down “So, you are offering?”

Jeff was sure that not only his ears were warm now. And he already moved a foot back, when he suddenly set his jaw and held his PDA to the side: “If… if that is what it takes, I’ll- I’ll-“

Richard reached for the other’s arm. And held his thumb to his pulse point. Jeff’s pulse was way too fast. And maybe his hand was shaking, too. So Richard’s gaze wandered from the hand to Jeff’s face and he breathed out, slowly. And now Jeff could see how he looked. He looked-

“I am sorry. I didn’t think you’d feel anything more than lust for me”

Jeff shook his hand free and now did take a step back, frowning: “How old are you? You… you don’t look older than me, but you are old”

He took a step back as well, leaning back against the railing again, smiling now, a little… sheepish? What e

“Haaah… I think you earned a few answers, mh?” When Jeff glared back at him, Richard chuckled. And looked a bit more like himself. “Should I be ‘sincere and honest with you, so our future working relationship can function’?”

The secretary’s frown deepened: “… sure? Yeah. Sure. Tell me!”

After taking a breath, Richard… started speaking: “Mmmh. So, first. My compliments to you. You really are very observant. You actually are the most observant assistant I had up to now. None of the others came even close to interpreting my mood, so congratulations, really”

Jeff continued staring, raising an annoyed eyebrow: “Compliments get you nowhere, today”

“It’s not for me, Mr. Fulton, it’s a compliment for you. There are too few genuine compliments in our line of work. This was one. Even if you stumbled on the time I was most easy to read, it’s still impressive. And ‘today’, really? You admit to the crush?” He looked amused again.

If his skin had allowed it, he would be red as a tomato at this point. Even his neck felt like it was burning: “It does not influence my work ethic or efficiency”

“Oh, I think it does… positively,” Richard looked for three seconds before he apparently did not want to torture him anymore. And looked away, to say: “Yet… as flattering as it is – it will give my already impressive ego another boost, believe me – I can and will not entertain the option. It would not be fair to you. And currently… I do try to be there for someone. As hard as it may be”

“But hey aren’t making you happy,” and that was the entire point, was it not?

Richards eyes returned to Jeff and the latter almost stumbled, but Richard answered: “… not fair to point it out so clearly,” he exhaled, “It’s true, of course. Most of the time, I’m miserable. It’s disheartening to be barely tolerated and always five seconds away from getting thrown out or inevitably rejected.”

“Then why would you do that?!” Richard made even less sense than usual.

“Because hope is important. And I shouldn’t have any. But instead, they don’t. And they ae supposed to be a beacon. And… do you know how it feels to light a beacon? Or find one? When you’re lost? Giving hope is the greatest gift there is. It’s the only one, actually. And it’s their job. It’s time someone returned the favour. They’ll likely reject me, when they re-find their own hope. But that’s life. I’m used to it. For now, though. I try to be there. Maybe I’ll need a crowbar to get them to open their heart again, but I’ll try my damndest”

“… this is bullshit and you are blind. What the hell. This mystery-lover has you convinced they are oh-so-special and you drop everything to be by their side? What nonsense. Hell, the should be thankful, if it’s their job, that you believe in them and give them a break. Seriously. This is awful. Just drop them”

His old eyes looked at me again. For a long moment. And then he crossed his arms in front of his chest, raising an eyebrow: “… so you would take a chance, if it meant you could better yourself? If it was a great opportunity and the only thing you might lose is face?”

“Tch. In a heartbeat!” This was the entire reason why their business model worked.

“Alright.” He pushed himself away from the railing and started walking towards the elevator-door, “Then I revise my order. The appointment on Wednesday is not cancelled”

“Finally you see reason, I’ll gladly take-“

“You are the most knowledgeable about the subject anyway. Everything I know, you told me. So you’ll lead the meeting. You can hold the presentation in front of me if you want critique beforehand. So. Understood?” He had his hand on the elevator-button.

“… what?!” The PDA fell out of his hand.

The button got pressed. “You’ll lead the meeting on Wednesday. It’s either that… or it’ll cost us millions and there’ll be lost time to account for. So, I think this will be a great opportunity”

Jeff stared and looked toward the floor, trying to see or find anything, thoughts racing, then he said: “I am not the presenter. This is ridiculous! And… and you didn’t even give me any information! You weren’t frank and… you can’t just give me this task!”

The elevator door ding-ed open and Richard walked in, smirking: “I just did. And if you want more information than I gave you now… you have to impress me again. Wednesday is a perfect opportunity,” he indicated a good bye with two fingers, “I’ll see you soon. Good luck!”

And the doors closed. Only the metal doors of the elevator, the door of the stairs and the dent in the wall still kept him company.

Fuck.

[badcowboy69]

Boone Voyage

This was a WIP I had in my folders for way, way too long.  Back before Travis met Riley, years previous he had a very brief relationship with the NCR First Recon, Craig Boone.  This is a discussion Travis is having with his best friend, Arcade Gannon, which took place after his break up with Boone.  Story is placed under the Read More thing due to its length.  Questions and comments are always welcome.  Hope you enjoy it.  

@fuzzyelves this was hard to write as I am so used to my stories involving our boys lol  I think I did ok with it.  ;)

“Did you love him?”  Arcade Gannon suddenly blurted to his best friend and co-ruler of New Vegas, Travis Blackfox.  He hated to be so blunt, but it was the only way he’d get an answer since Travis was being extremely tight-lipped about his recent break up with NCR sniper, Craig Boone.   Arcade was hoping by getting him to discuss the unusual relationship he had with the man it might help Travis to cope with the loss a bit better.

It was only a few days ago when Arcade found Travis staggering drunkenly through the streets of the New Vegas Strip.  He never saw his friend in such a state before and quickly gathered him up and led him back home to the Lucky 38.  When they got to the Presidential Suite, Arcade noticed that Travis’ long time companion was gone.  The suite had an unsettling, empty feeling to it showing Boone’s absence was most certainly not for an outing.  The sniper had completely packed up and was out of Travis’ life for reasons unknown.  Realizing this, Arcade felt Travis shouldn’t be left alone, especially seeing how drunk he was. Getting Travis settled in bed, Arcade offered to stick around to help the courier sober up and get through the next few days.  

Momentarily coming to his senses, and before completely passing out, Travis gratefully thanked Arcade for the help and offered for him to stay in the guest bedroom.  After Travis slept for a good amount of hours, Arcade encouraged him to get up and get tidy.  He hated to make Travis get moving around so soon during his hangover, but it was necessary.  Arcade dealt with situations like this plenty of times, not only in his own life, but with people who staggered into the Fort.  Sometimes all it would take for a person to head down the road to recovery was a bath and a good meal.  It was a small, but important hurdle for Travis to overcome and Arcade was glad to see the courier oblige to his request.  Once Travis was cleaned up and in fresh clothes, Arcade made him something small and light to eat and to both of their delights the food stayed down.   

Later that evening, Travis was able to think a little clearer even though his head felt like it was filled with stampeding brahmin.  Arcade didn’t push matters with him and instead let Travis decide the pace he wanted to go.  Eventually, Travis managed to briefly discuss what happened with Boone, but didn’t get into many details.  Basically, he told Arcade that after the Hoover Dam ordeal, Boone became distant.  Travis assumed that being involved with battles again might have temporarily pushed the sniper back into his stoic and quiet self.  He remained hopeful that things would revert back to how they were before the battle, but that was not to be the case.  A few tense weeks later, Boone dropped his own bomb by stating he was rejoining the NCR and would be leaving.  

While Travis continued his tale, the blonde man could see the hurt in Travis’ expression, but his voice portrayed a different story.  Travis was angry, but quite possibly a little relieved this had all happened.  In the past when Arcade would ask Travis how things were going on the romance front, the courier would always snort, laugh and say “what romance?”  Arcade knew it was Travis’ attempt at a joke, but each and every time it was said he could see the flicker of a mood change on his friend’s face.  He couldn’t quite place it, but it still boiled down to Travis seeming as if he was regretting the entire relationship.  

After a good night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast, Travis abruptly announced he wanted to tackle the huge task of cleaning up the disaster that became his workroom the day Boone left.  Arcade was unsure what exactly Travis meant by “disaster” and figured it was only a gross exaggeration.  When it came to his workroom, Travis was very neat and meticulous.  However, when Travis opened the door to the suite, the doctor was mortified seeing the room truly was a disaster as previously stated.  It was evident the break up really hit the courier harder than he was letting on.  

Frowning deeply, Arcade walked carefully through the wreckage of tools, supplies, and twisted metal and eventually wound up next to a destroyed motorcycle.  He shook his head in disbelief and felt his heart sink as he knew that motorcycle was Travis’ passion.  Almost every time they talked, Travis excitedly told him about his progress and his hopes to go to the coast to see the ocean.  Staring down at the bike, Arcade felt it looked repairable, but maybe not.  He was a doctor after all, not a mechanic.  

During the next few hours, the two men righted shelves, swept up broken glass, and did their best to put things back in their places.  Around dinner time they stopped and Travis was pleased with the progress in his workshop.  After they had a filling meal, Travis invited Arcade up to the cocktail lounge for a few drinks and to simply relax.  Not surprisingly, Travis downed one beer after another.  Even though he disapproved of those actions,  Arcade said nothing, at least not yet, knowing Travis had to get through the breakup in his own way.  

However, being a doctor as well as Travis’ best friend, Arcade couldn’t help but to ask a few questions.  He hoped he could entice Travis to discuss the relationship with the stoic NCR sniper.  Arcade knew for some people, talking things out could bring a situation into a different perspective or simply getting them out in the open could help bring on healing all the faster.

“Did you love him?”

The question hung heavily in the air and Travis stared in disbelief at Arcade before grimacing and wrinkling up his nose.  “What the hell?” he snorted, taking a deep drink out of his beer bottle not taking his eyes off of the blonde doctor.  “Hell kinda question that supposed to be?”  

“An in depth one perhaps.  Take your time and think about it.  I know you are probably on your way to being drunk, but at least the answer will be honest.”

Travis glared at him.  “Ain’t drunk.  Fuck you.”

Arching an eyebrow in mild amusement, Arcade chuckled then took a sip of his wine.  “That’s a great offer, it truly is, but seeing your present state I’m going to have to decline.”

Travis continued to glare at him, his crystal blue eyes practically boring a hole into the doctor’s head.  However, it wasn’t long until a slight smile cracked his stoic expression.  “Well...I seriously doubt you can stay in the saddle longer than eight seconds anyways,” he quipped while finishing off the beer in his bottle.

“Eight seconds?  Really, is that limit to your libido?  Maybe that’s why Boone left,” Arcade replied dryly then quickly ducked as Travis chucked a decorative throw pillow at him.  Picking it up and tossing it back, Arcade laughed seeing that Travis was attempting some humor in the unhappy situation.  

Catching the pillow and setting it on his lap, Travis sighed and a somber expression slowly appeared on his face.  A million thoughts began zooming through his head about the past few months with Boone that led up to this point.  “To answer your question...no...reckon I can't say it was love in the husband kinda way.  I loved him like a best friend, someone I thought I could trust and who would always have my back.  Instead, he betrayed me by leaving.”

“He was not allowed to leave?” Arcade baited, hoping to goad Travis to getting his true feelings out.

“Shit...he could do what the hell he wanted!  I never stopped him, but…” he drifted off and stared at the floor for a moment.  “It’s....it woulda been nice if he discussed this with me first.  I was blindsided by it all.  Woulda thought we were close enough that he could tell me anything.  I mean, ain’t that what friends do is discuss things, especially if there’s a change in plans and stuff?”

“Travis, were you really blindsided or were there signs leading up to this that you might have not even paid attention to?  Boone didn’t exactly seem the type to pour out his heart, but rather relied on the more subtle, or even obvious, of hints without saying things directly.”

Travis snorted with a hard glare and opened his mouth to interject, but the blonde doctor raised his hand to halt the reply.  “Think about it for a moment, Travis.  You crossed paths with a lonely, bitter, ‘waiting for death’ man.  You helped him locate the person who sold his wife and unborn child into the Legion.  You took him tramping across the desert while mowing down any Legion you crossed paths with.  You became great allies with the NCR.  The two of you single handedly destroyed the Legion camp at Fortification Hill and killed Caesar in its wake.  You helped him face his ghosts at Bitter Springs.  You both helped save President Kimball from assassination.  Then when the big Battle for Hoover Dam came up, you sent your robots and allies out to help the NCR beat back the Legion and into victory.  Granted, you took the dam for yourself and House and punted the NCR out, but he still helped you anyway because battles are what he loves to do.  Travis, you gave that man all the thrills and excitement only a person with being a soldier in their blood could ever dream of.  A man like that can’t be domesticated.  A man like that needs to be out in the world.  Alone.  Fighting the good fight.”  Arcade paused to take a sip of his wine and relaxed against the couch.  “The two of you jogged around the Mojave doing things that made him feel powerful and important again.  And dare I say probably even made him feel loved again.  I’m sure many signs were present...restlessness, being anxious to get back on the field, always fiddling with his rifle, maybe always talking about or boasting about the NCR.  Think hard, Travis.”

Shifting his gaze to the floor, Travis felt his cheeks redden with embarrassed realization.  Everything Arcade mentioned was true and correct about Boone.  It should have been so obvious, but Travis was unfortunately oblivious to such things.  Having lost an abundance of memories as a result of being shot in the head, he no doubt became clingy, and almost needy, to the one person he spent the vast majority of his time with.  

Months back when Travis first met Boone in the town of Novac, he wanted nothing to do with the sniper.  Travis was too busy with his own mission and didn’t have the time or desire to mingle or make friends with everyone he came across.  However, learning that Boone had no real friends and after hearing the painful story about Boone’s wife, Travis felt some kind of bond.  They were both alone in the world and both had missions to fulfill.  Eventually they began to travel the Mojave together and the more time they spent side by side, the more Travis developed a slight crush on the sniper.  Travis knew he flirted way too much, sometimes almost shamelessly, and no doubt that helped goad Boone into some unexpected and possibly suppressed feelings.  

“Take your time,” Arcade gently interrupted seeing Travis was deep in thought.  “It’s apparent by you searching for signs means they were there, but overlooked.  Had they not existed, you would have retorted and defended not only Boone, but your dignity as well.”

Travis grunted and shifted his position on the couch while casually crossing his long legs.  “Well,” he drawled, giving a dismissive wave of his hand.  “You do make good points.  A’yup...Reckon Boone was doing all those things as time went on...more so closer to the battle.  Didn’t think much of it really.”  He shrugged and took another sip of his beer, emptying the brown bottle then began to flick his fingers against the glass as his mind shifted to other thoughts.

Adjusting his glasses, Arcade waited patiently for his frustrated friend to continue talking.  Although the venting was minute, Arcade knew there was not doubt plenty built up in Travis wanting to come out.  He saw it in a glance or heard it in a pitch change in Travis’ voice.  As badly as he wanted to goad or provoke him, Arcade knew the best thing was to let Travis continue at his own pace since it was obvious he wanted to get things out in the open.  

Travis felt the doctor’s piercing green eyes on him and he squirmed all the more, suddenly feeling insecure and lost.  There were so many issues and things he could bring up, but he honestly had no idea where to start and wished Arcade would ask him a question or two as a guide.  Travis waited a few long moments before realizing Arcade was giving him the opportunity to bring something up on his own.  “Called me kid a lot,” he blurted.

Arcade blinked at the bit of randomness, but continued forward instead of shooting it down.  “Kid?  He actually called you that?  He was what, two years older than you?  Sort of demeaning don’t you think?  Now if I were to call you that, or even Raul, that’s a different story,” he tut-tutted while scratching the side of his nose.  “Is that all that bothered you about him?  Out of everything these last few months being called ‘kid’ is your only qualm?”

“No,” Travis responded flatly.  “He was...he just was a bit forceful and unappreciative at times.  I mean…” he drifted off while suddenly regretting he even admitted that.  Travis anxiously ran his fingers through his black hair and began to feel the urge to drink something a lot stronger than the beer he’s been downing. 

Arcade immediately corrected his posture and sat up straight, his attention focused on what Travis had declared  “Forceful?  Forceful in what way?” he asked carefully, almost afraid of the answer.  Although he didn’t know Boone as well as Travis, he didn’t want to jump to wrong conclusions.  Still, the doctor felt a knot of dread tie in his stomach over what possible horrible tale Travis was about to admit to.  A lanky mailman was certainly no match against a built, hardened soldier.

Travis shrank down against the chair and began to rub the back of his neck while his slightly intoxicated brain tried to figure out the correct words to explain things.  When he looked up he noticed the concerned look on Arcade’s face.  “Don’t worry...he wasn’t forceful in the ways of violence or anything.  He never raised a hand to me...never even yelled.  Well, he did sometimes, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary.  Hell, I yelled too, but in all the times we squawked at each other it weren’t outta the ordinary.  I mean, everybody shouts at some time or another.  Don’t they?  Naw, the only time he ever really like yelled was mostly during the time he admitted he was gonna leave.   Just...at times he could be...forceful…” Travis drifted off, still yearning for another drink in his hand.  

Arcade was patient, but he now had concerns over what his friend might have endured both mentally and physically at the hands of the NCR sniper.  Being a doctor, he’s dealt with soldiers plenty of times for various reasons and he knew how emotionless, loud and brash they could be.  With Travis’ playful nature and good heart it wouldn’t be any wonder where someone like him could be easily manipulated or taken advantage of.  The more Travis hesitated now, the deeper Arcade’s worries grew.  Boone wasn’t some scrawny, washed up soldier either.  Being absent from the front line or on duty, the man still maintained a chiseled body.  Hearing Travis mention the word forceful, Arcade was unsure if he should take it for face value, or as an exaggeration as Travis was known to do occasionally.  Either way he felt concerned, but also didn’t want to bring too much attention to it and cause Travis to balk on the matter.  “Take your time,” he gently assured.  “There’s no pressure or time table here.”

“He made me feel...good...not so lonely I reckon,” the courier said instead, shifting from the original topic.  “He was always there for me, always had my back.  I knew I could count on him...hell, he saved my ass plenty of times too.  I reckon I started to like and appreciate that and it’s probably what got me kinda smitten with him after a while.”

“More like a hero crush by the sounds of it,” Arcade responded matter-of-factly.

Travis shrugged and began toying with his empty beer bottle.  “Yeah...I-I had hopes we’d move out of New Vegas one day.  Lots of land available out in the Mojave and I figured it’d be kinda nice to move out there and get a ranch raising brahmin or big horners.” 

“He wasn’t fond of that idea?”

“Not really now that I think about it,” Travis grunted as he stood and shuffled to the fridge for another beer.  “He always had a goofy look on his face when I’d mention it.  Almost like the kinda look you see a parent give a kid when that kid wants something outta their reach.  That look like ‘anything you want, sweetie’ when deep down they knew they’d never abide by it.  Dunno what it’s called, but yeah, that was what he’d do.  Ain’t never recognized it for what it was ‘til now.”

“He probably hoped your dreams and whims were simply that and wouldn’t come to fruition.”  He chuckled seeing Travis’ head tilt slightly at the mention of a new word.  “It means where an idea becomes real.  I’m willing to bet he only humored you in a few things to keep you pacified or even distracted while he had his own plans.  I noticed there were two motorcycles in your work room the other day when we were cleaning up.  Was that another of your plans with him that got stymied?  You wanted him to accompany you to the coast?”

Anger flashed in Travis’ crystal blue eyes and he felt a heaviness on his chest brought on by the mention of the motorcycles.  “A’yup,” he growled before guzzling down his beer.  “Had the extra bike in my shop to use for parts, but got the notion to fix it instead so Craig could have one as well.  Thought it’d be nice for us to travel to the Big Waters together...go there after the battle was over and shit settled down around here.  Thought it’d be nice to share some time together on a beach watching the sunset like they do in those romance holotapes and junk.  He didn’t seem too interested ‘til I mentioned we’d be in New California.  Reckon all he was caring about going that way for was ‘cause we’d be deep in NCR territory.”  He snorted and emptied the bottle then wiped his mouth against his sleeve.  “Other than that, he really took no interest in the bikes or the trip.  Shoulda took that as a sign.  A great, big, flaming red flag!”

“You were hoping for a romantic getaway with an emotionless sniper?” Arcade asked with a half-chuckle earning a sharp glare from Travis.  “I’m sorry, Travis, I don’t mean to laugh, but I can’t exactly picture the two of you holding hands and skipping along the sand stopping to look for shells.”

“Neither can I,” Travis muttered and felt his blood begin to boil over his blind infatuation of the sniper.  “How could I have been so stupid?” he exclaimed, giving the armrest of the couch a hard slap.  “The more I look back on things, the more I realize stuff was staring me right in the face!  The entire relationship was nothing more than a good friend or trusted companion kinda thing.  It was my fault things got physical...my fault for seducing him.  What the fuck was even wrong with me?  Ugh!”  He again slapped the couch before quickly getting to his feet.  The rage he felt back when he tore up his workroom seemed to be wanting to make itself known again.  This time he was all wiser and didn’t want what happened then to happen now.  Turning towards the couch, he instead proceeded to punch a throw pillow a few times in hopes to calm himself.

Arcade watched him carefully and knew that there was still more to all of this than Travis was letting on.  “Is there something else that is bothering you?  I mean, I wouldn’t think you tearing up your passion of building a working motorcycle and destroying your entire workroom would only be over Boone leaving or your temptations.  What aren’t you telling me or even admitting to yourself for that matter?”

Seeing the genuine concern and fear in Arcade’s eyes, Travis suddenly felt drained and he dropped heavily on the sofa while covering his face in his hands.  Taking a deep, calming breath and slowly exhaling, Travis replied, “Just felt jilted and stupid combined.  I knew he wasn’t the kinda fella that’d catch my fancy, but yet I flirted lots.  In our travels I spotted plenty of guys I wouldn’t have minded to get to know, but for some reason I was bent on accomplishing something with Craig.  The night...the night he kissed me...well...I thought that was the best thing in the world.  I succeeded in what I set out to do, but wasn’t fully sure on what to make of it.  Was hoping now that the ice was broke with us, things would change and he’d loosen up some and have fun, but we were getting closer and closer to the Hoover Dam bullshit.  He seemed to get anxious over it all...kinda nervous and it was making me the same as a result.  I only wanted to show him a good time and how to live life and to find the joy in simple things again.  Hoped to give him a reason to fight hard and to live.  So...I took him out for a nice dinner day one night at the Tops and…” Travis trailed off.

Arcade waited for Travis to continue, but as the minutes ticked by he felt something was wrong.  Seeing Travis was still hesitating to continue, Arcade cautiously asked, “Did he not enjoy the date that evening?  I’m sure the Tops might not be exactly up to his tastes, but I would think an outing out with someone I was close to wouldn’t matter where we went.  As long as we’re together nothing else would matter.”

Travis looked up at him and held his gaze for long moments before dropping his chin to his chest and sighing heavily.  “Wasn’t that.  We drank that night...bit too much probably.  I flirted too much that night to boot.  And...well…things went a bit too far when we left the casino.”  He paused for a moment and ran his hand through his already mussed up black hair while directing his gaze to the floor.  Travis wasn’t normally one to spill details of his private life, but tonight things felt different.  He felt like he somehow needed to get some issues off his chest and out into the open.  “Don’t even know why I did what I did...reckon I drank too much, reckon I flirted too much...was my fault it went as far as it did.  I prob’ly confused him...gave him feelings he wasn’t keen on having or something.”

Dread began to creep into Arcade’s thoughts and he wondered if this was where the “forceful” remarks Travis made came from.  He only hoped this tale wasn’t going to end up being one of rape or other abuse because he wasn’t even sure how he would react.  He did know that if anything horrible happened to Travis as a result of that emotionless dolt, he would not hesitate to let loose his plasma rifle on the sniper.  Arcade cleared his throat then took a sip of his wine.  “Whatever happened, Travis, know it wasn’t your fault.  You aren’t accountable for anyone’s actions.” “Bullshit!” Travis grunted, jerking his head up to glare at his friend.  “Sure, folks are responsible for how they behave, but you push a man so far, entice ‘em, seduce ‘em...something’s gonna give eventually...good or bad.”  He paused to scratch the side of his nose then smooth over the black hairs of his goatee.  “Reckon you can figure out what happened after we got home that night.”

Still not wanting to jump to conclusions, Arcade took a small sip of his wine and gave a casual shrug.  “You threw up and passed out from the copious amount of drinking you did?”

Travis smirked.  “I wasn’t that drunk.  Hell, I wish that’s what happened!”  Standing abruptly, Travis made a few random motions with his hand before turning on his heel and stomping to the fridge to get another beer.  Twisting the cap off it, he guzzled nearly half of the amber liquid before heading back to the couch and dropping heavily on it.  “Ain’t gonna get into details, but let’s just say I ain’t no longer pure thanks to my stupidity.”

Arcade quirked a brow, his wine glass hovering near his lips.  “You mean to tell me that Mr. First Recon was your first?”  Seeing Travis give a half-nod, Arcade felt his heart sink.  He knew how much a romantic Travis is and always assumed he at least had some sort of passionate relationship in his past.  Grimacing at the very thought, Arcade took a swallow of his wine and set the glass down on the coffee table.  “The entire situation with that man is bad enough, but for him to be your first is just…” He trailed off seeing Travis flinch and bury his face in his hands.  Sighing, Arcade tried to think of something that wasn’t so scathing, but it proved to be a difficult task.  Fortunately for him he didn’t have much time to dwell on it as Travis began to talk again.

“I don’t know why I thought things were so amazing and why I kept pushing or hoping.  Come the next morning I felt horrible.  Don’t know what I was expecting it to be like...but it certainly wasn’t pleasurable.  I wasn’t happy at all about it and was more embarrassed and ashamed than anything.  Didn’t talk much that day either.  It was really awkward.  We didn’t discuss it and no more came of it.  Well, not for a while anyways.  I stopped with the flirting, but there was still some kind of desire there for me.  Figured that the first time was just drunken stupidity, but when it happened again…”

“Something tells me you regret the entire thing.” Travis stared at the floor, avoiding Arcade’s gaze.  At length he nodded while crossing his arms in front of his chest.  “A’yup.  I mean, I always hoped it’d get better and that it was my inexperience that made it what it was.  It didn’t happen much at all which I reckon is a good thing.  It always felt more like a convenience thing, always felt forced.”  Hearing a soft noise from Arcade made Travis look up and wave it off.  “Not like that, weren’t ever against my will, but it wasn’t anything I liked.  It was more like what I could do for him instead of what he could do for me or even a together thing.  Does that make sense?  I thought...I thought that intimacy was a thing shared together, not a one way street.”

Arcade sighed and adjusted his glasses.  “Well, under normal circumstances it is.  I know this all isn’t easy for you to discuss or admit so you don’t have to go on if you don’t want to.  I think I’m pretty sure what you’re trying to get at.  From what it all sounds like, you had hero worship feelings for him and a serious crush.  You enjoyed flirting with him because you knew it made him feel good and it boosted your confidence as well.  You thought you knew what you wanted, but when you got it, you realized it wasn’t exactly what you expected.  You probably hoped it would either dissolve or flourish and you grasped at any chance of the latter that was offered to you.  Even when signs were there he wasn’t interested in expanding on the future or your needs, you still had hope.”  Arcade paused to take a sip of his wine before standing and taking a seat at Travis’ side.  Giving his glum looking friend’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, the doctor continued.  “None of this is your fault and really isn’t anything to dwell on or beat yourself up over.  It happened.  What’s done is done and hopefully you came out of this all the more wiser.”

“Shit, you got that right!  No more relationships or flings for me ever!  This betrayal and shit only shows I’m better off alone.  People are fucking idjits and I’d rather not bother,” Travis ended with a huff, downed the rest of his beer then slung the empty bottle to the other side of the room.  Fortune was on his side as the bottle did not break and instead clattered loudly across the tiled floor.

“Travis, don’t let one asshole determine the rest of your life.  You’re young and I know you aren’t one to give up on romance that easily.  You have that desire to be with someone and care for them and in turn be cared for.  You wouldn’t have built two motorcycles if you wanted to go on adventures alone.  You wouldn’t have hopes to operate a ranch with someone if you wanted to be alone.  Give it time.  There’s no rush in things, but don’t abandon your hopes and desires because of Boone.  But I will say this, do yourself a huge favor and don’t chase after those stone-cold NCR fellas anymore.  You don’t need brawn in your life.  You need someone with brains.”

“Oh, you mean a nerd like you?  Ow!”  Travis chuckled as his friend playfully punched him in the shoulder.  

“No.  Most certainly not like me.  You need to find someone who can enjoy and appreciate the simple things of life and actually enjoy life.  Like I said, there is no time table for something like this and no rush.  Get over the loss you’re suffering now and find yourself first.  You’ve been through some crazy shit since October when you woke up in Doc Mitchell’s place in Goodsprings.  You’re basically only back in this world a few months and really never got the chance to discover who you were and even are.  If you want my expert opinion, rebuild the relationship with yourself first.  Find out who Travis Blackfox is.  Fix that motorcycle and take a trip.  Do something.  Anything!  But, find your path first and maybe after a while when you’re ready, pursue finding that special someone if that’s something you still yearn for.”

Travis bit his lower lip and directed his gaze back to the floor in thought.  He realized everything that Arcade had said to him tonight was true.  He hated to admit to any of it, of course, but deep down he knew that his infatuation with Boone was simply that.  “You’re right.  You’re absolutely right.  Thanks for helping me realize and understand a few things.  It feels good to have got all of that out in the open.  Everything what you said helped as well.”

“Sometimes all it takes is another person’s input or perspective to get proper focus placed on the topic.  You’re a good guy, Travis.  You deserve to be with someone that respects you and wants to share things with you.  Just promise me one thing when seeking out a potential mate.” Arching an eyebrow, Travis turned to face the doctor.  “Besides not being NCR?”

“That’s the main thing, yes, but please, make sure your next beau will have hair!  Something nice and normal...full and luxurious.  Maybe even long.  Honestly, that shaved style Boone had reminded me of the rear end of a Deathclaw.” 

Travis gave a mock gasp and began to snicker over Arcade’s description.  “Aw hell, you’re awfully hair-larious.  I hate to cut you short, but I moustache you a question.  Do you really think I should get tangled up with someone again anyways?”

Arcade rolled his eyes and groaned.  He knew Travis’ love for puns and by him rattling off hair related ones shows he was well on his way of getting over the break up.  “When you’re ready is all I’m going to insist.  Don’t trim corners or snip off time you need for recovery.  Don’t shave off those precious moments you need for yourself first.  And promise me, if Boone ever returns, you won’t take him back.”

Travis was impressed hearing Arcade attempting to toss in his own bit of puns and he smirked.  “Ain’t no worry about that.  He comes back ‘round there’ll be hell toupee.  That shitfuck can curl up and dye for all I care.”

The doctor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose to stop him from laughing.  “Well, that all sounds good to me and you have my approval.  Now, can we please stop with the puns?  I’m getting a headache over it.”  

“Fine with me.  I’ll get us more drinks, but we gotta save some for tomorrow.”  As Travis stood he noticed the confused look Arcade was giving him over his remark.  “You know...hair of the dog?”

“Ugh!  Cut it out, Travis!”

Fin~

[diivinitiies]

→ headcanon: jae-ha’s ptsd.

i remember mentioning a million years ago how i was gonna try to write out something about how jae-ha’s mind works and basically the influence that his childhood abuse ( which was physical and mental // emotional ) had on him. so here is an attempt to expand on it a little more. idk i probably will edit this more as time goes on but i wanted to post this here really for my own reference.

jae-ha has complex ptsd ( with psychosis ) given that it was chronic abuse ( happened over a period of 12 years ). he didn’t have many of the protective factors either — he was socially and physically isolated, and his abuser was really his only point of contact ( though i often mention garou as his sole abuser, the villagers were also complicit in this abuse, and really the purveyor of it ). his mental d/o is undiagnosed, even in his modern verse ( since he had no interest in going to therapy & refused to ). i’ll split this up into childhood and adulthood manifestations because while he hasn’t “gotten over it” he has shifted in the symptoms he primarily experiences. his coping mechanisms into adulthood make the existence of these issues more subtle, but sometimes he does experience the other ( childhood ) symptoms, just less frequently than when he was younger & usually brought on by a trigger. just fyi, jae-ha will probably never really speak about this in its entirety, especially the hallucinations.

CHILDHOOD // TEENAGE YEARS

paranoia // distrust // hypervigilance — constantly on edge around others, didn’t really want to stay in one place // he was constantly on the run thinking that the villagers would be after him, even long after he left // he was often distrustful of the intentions of others after garou died and he lived on the streets // he had to deal with people who wished to use him & his powers for his own benefit even outside of his childhood home and that further cemented his distrust in those around him

anxiety surrounding being touched — usually manifesting as initial flinch // recoil // disgust reflex due to an expectation of pain. might have reacted violently to it as well, depending on how someone touched him ( if it was a harsh touch, he’d respond likewise ) // he’s likely to be more hesitant around men than women

flashbacks — an almost constant thing // mostly it was garou’s voice echoing in his mind but at night this turned to nightmares of him being chained again or used for his powers

insomnia — to avoid the nightmares that plagued his sleep, he’d often just stay up to try to avoid it, resulting in many sleepless nights // he’d often have trouble falling asleep and staying asleep

hallucinations — auditory, visual, & tactile // seeing ghosts // feeling the weight of chains on his wrists and ankles though they were no longer there // hearing garou’s voice echoing in his mind or the sounds of chains at night or at other unspecified times

panic // anxiety attacks — these could come out of nowhere or actually have a trigger ( usually being touched, having arrows aimed at him, threatened to be shot down ) // when confronted with dangerous situations, he’d hyperventilate, start to think he was going to die, etc.

angry and violent outbursts — could come from being touched or from feeling powerless // if he wasn’t progressing as he thought he should, it irritated him // when he couldn’t block garou’s voice from his mind, he would lash out // sometimes his anxiety & panic attacks could turn into outbursts of violence

withdrawal // isolation — avoided getting close to people // as a child, he would keep people at a distance through more aggressive mannerisms // in modern, this was a big reason why he refused to go into the adoption system — if his own blood didn’t want him, who would ? garou always told him that no one would want him.

internalization of negative assumptions — he was always told he couldn’t fit in // he was a monster // no one would accept him and this added to his tendency to withdraw from others out of the fear that he would be rejected or other expectations of pain // he also experienced immense guilt for leaving garou behind and for stealing his life away // often times he did believe that he deserved the abuse that he got

risky behaviors — included stealing // drugs // general recklessness

dysphoria — just general feeling or state of unhappiness, often pervasive

ADULTHOOD

fetis..hization of pain instead of anxiety surrounding it — so he basically reconditioned himself to think differently about being touched to lessen his discomfort surrounding it // masochism can be used as a coping mechanism, in a way it’s taking control; jae-ha had no control over the pain that he experienced as a child, but re-framing it in a consensual context helps him come to terms with abuse

memory repression — avoids thinking about anything to do with his past abuse at all but certain things can make him remember and cause him to withdraw ( usually he makes jokes about the subject, tries to brush it off, and then withdraws completely if the subject is pushed // may get angry tbh )

claustrophobia and cleithrophobia – basically caused by his fear of being tied down without escape or enclosed in small spaces, and this can trigger panic attacks // flashbacks // this can also trigger his anxiety, and if he’s trapped long enough, starts to have these fears of death or nightmares about dying // feelings of powerlessness or hopelessness can overwhelm him // he had this when he was younger too and it carried over

withdrawal // isolation — in short, he has highly developed social skills that preclude vulnerability // instead of being reserved or aggressive as he was when he was a child, he comes off as friendly and open, but he does have many mental walls up // he shies away from emotional intimacy, but is fine with physical intimacy // in a way he can… kind of sabotage his own relationships because he has these internalized negative views, which is one of the reasons he shies away from commitment and tells himself he’s fine with being alone ( but he craves acceptance and intimacy ) // he over regulates his emotions a lot of the time, not allowing himself to feel certain things because he doesn’t want to return to the anger and recklessness of his youth

internalization of negative assumptions about himself — such as being a monster, ugly, undeserving, never going to fit in, etc. — but instead of believing them outwardly, he over compensates by putting an emphasis on beauty, his appearance, independence, and freedom, convincing himself he’s better off alone instead of people don’t want me // his over confidence masks his insecurities

self-medication — not saying he’s an alcoholic, but will turn to it in order to escape the discomfort of the present // in modern verses, he uses drugs like weed and smoking cigarettes for that, along with alcohol still // he has used harder drugs before but that was in his youth

tendency towards protection — he’s very protective of others who he may or may not consider weaker and it’s because he doesn’t want people to experience what he has, basically

insomnia — not as bad as when he was younger, but he can still find it difficult to fall or stay asleep; his sleep habits really aren’t the best even as an adult // he does still have nightmares, though less frequent than in his childhood

dysphoria — certain reminders of the tragic event can trigger a general drop in his mood that may last a while

hypervigilance — manifesting more as keen perception than paranoia, since he has a better handle on it // he is very aware of people’s nonverbal cues, facial expressions, tone, etc. and he is very aware of his surroundings

chronic pain — dull aches and pains usually around his wrist and ankles // he’ll get bad migraines // can manifest in other areas of his body, but the aforementioned areas are the most common // honestly he barely notices the pain anymore

thoughts jae-ha has had regarding his trauma:

maybe my trauma wasn’t bad enough // maybe it was my fault // he was abused too, it wasn’t his fault // i shouldn’t still be angry // i let him die, i was killing him, i deserved it, i’m guilty // garou’s right, i’m a monster // if they realize i’m a monster, will they still accept me? // if i wasn’t a monster it wouldn’t have happened // it doesn’t matter if i get hurt, as long as no one else does, and i’m used to it // no one will accept me, i’m a monster // i shouldn’t bee feeling this way // i can’t let anyone know how i feel // i’m a monster, monster, monster // garou should’ve killed me

[silentauroriamthereal]

This seems like fun! Thanks for the tag, @swissmissing! 

1. AO3 handle: SilentAuror

2. Ships I write: Johnlock. Oh, and maybe a touch of Freebatch. In the past I wrote a crapton of Harry/Draco and a few other scattered ships hither and thither, but these days it’s pretty much pure Johnlock over here. 

3. Ships I read: I don’t read much fanfic, but if I do, it’s definitely Johnlock! 

4. When I started writing: I don’t remember my first piece of fiction ever, but it was definitely sometime in childhood! My first fanfic was posted in 2002, I believe! 

5. First fic I wrote: In this fandom? Resurrection. 

6. Favorite fic I wrote: I really can’t say! 

7. Hardest fic I wrote: Again, I really can’t say. Different stories have been hard for different reasons. Against the Rest of the World comes to mind, just for sheer length and complexity & detail of plot, but Scars was very different to write for the emotional and physical abuse it contains. Some of the angst-heavy stories I’ve written have practically given me ulcers. Sometimes I make the cases so complicated that I have to keep a whole separate file just on case notes (witness The Bells of King’s College, which features not just six cold cases, but they all had to be related to: a) the murderer (obviously), b) each other, and c) a potential seventh victim, and d) Mary!). Bridging the Ravine features something like 21 named OCs, about 8 of whom have fairly major parts. And The Final Proof was hard as hell to write because it made me cry throughout, lol. Along with basically 98% of the people who have read it, which was sort of the point, but there you go. :P (See warnings!!!!!) 

8. Most research-intensive fic I wrote: That has to be a toss-up between Against the Rest of the World for the location research specifically, and Scars, for which I did extensive research (including interviewing three separate therapists who specialize in female->male abuse and gaslighting). 

9. Fic that is most dear to me: This is like asking me to pick a favourite among my children! Of which I now have 84 in this fandom alone! Really can’t say! 

10. Favourite trope to write: I mostly avoid actively writing tropes, though I’ve unapologetically used fake-couple-for-a-case twice now (once where it goes quite well for them (Bridging the Ravine) and once where it goes quite badly for them (The Bells of King’s College)), and smaller tropes like sexual coaching (Isosceles), bed-sharing (numerous), and then apparently I’ve used some accidentally, such as amnesia (The Wisteria Tree). Lol. 

11. Something I wouldn’t write: An unhappy or non-Johnlock ending, a version of Mary that doesn’t line up with her actual canon behaviour, fluffy familial sitcom that’s wholly out of character (which isn’t to say that parentlock can’t be IC, but it’s a stretch to make it fit with these two particular men, IMO). 

12. Favourite scene I ever wrote: I’ve just written too many to choose only one. :/ Sorry, I keep saying this! 

13. Where I get my inspiration: From Moftiss’ resolute determination to prevent these two from having an honest, direct, and complete conversation about their relationship, their history, and their feelings. I WILL make them talk, damn it! And then kiss. Like a lot. :) 

14. Hardest scene I ever wrote: There’s a rape scene in chapter 3 of Scars. I avoided writing it for days. Then, once I finished it, I remember literally just closing my laptop, standing up, putting on my shoes, and walking out of my apartment to clear my head. 

15. Favourite characterisation I wrote: Oooh. Okay, I’m giving this one to Sherlock in Against the Rest of the World, specifically because it’s told in first person, which means that I spent four solid months living inside this version of his head, and I found it very difficult to not be in it once the story came to its eventual finish!

In this fandom, I’ve now written in the POVs of 12 different characters (not counting the “characters” of Ben and Martin in my four Freebatch fics), and I’ve loved writing every single one of them, even if I don’t necessarily love the character themselves! The breakdown goes like this, though for the last two, it’s only single chapters/parts of stories, never a full stand-alone story: Sherlock (36 times, including both novels), John (37 times), Mycroft (3 times), Lestrade (3 times), Mary (3 times), Molly (twice), Rose (Rosie at age 19, once), Janine (once), Ella (once), Vee (Mummy) Holmes (once), Mrs Hudson (once), and Sally Donovan (once). 

My current project is one of my rare mixed-POV stories, heavily John-POV, but with contribution scenes from Sherlock, Ella, and Molly. 

16. Sequel I would write, if I had the chance: I’m actually somewhat planning, pending my muses’ inspiration and general whims, a sequel to Isosceles, where Sherlock and John visit Corey Graham in LA. :)

17. Story I want to write, but I don’t think people would enjoy reading: It’s so masochistic, but I never let that stop me! :P I did suppress my urge to write my first Freebatch fic (The A.G.R.A Complex) for about eight months before finally giving in. I fully expected to be shot for writing Scars, and I’m somewhat expecting people to hate my current project, but if the muses demand it, then I write it. What can you do. :P

18. A line from a WIP: I never do lines. It’ll have to be a snippet, lol. Not to channel Culverton Smith or anything... 

Ella thinks of the long story Sherlock told her one stormy afternoon only a few weeks ago, during one of the appointments she cannot, by dint of professional vow, acknowledge to John that are happening, and of the fact that Sherlock admitted that he’s never yet found a way to casually bring up the snipers in conversation with John, his hesitancy to rock the boat, the surface stability they’ve seemingly found in the wake of the events with Sherlock’s unbalanced sister. She sighs inwardly, but keeps her expression neutral. “You’re still angry about that,” she says. It isn’t a question; after all, she knows John rather well by this point.

John frowns, but nods, still looking down.

“And how has that anger come out?” Ella asks, conscious to keep her tone even. 

John’s mouth opens, his breath drawing in sharply and stopping in his chest.

19. A recent comment on a story that made me smile: That someone commented at all makes me smile! Unless it’s overt hate, I guess. :P 

20. A discontinued work I would love to finish: I have never, in my 2.1+ million words of Sherlock fiction, or 1.5 words of HP fiction, not finished a story that I started. 

21. Fic writers I admire: Honestly, for these last two, I just don’t read enough to be able to comment well on this! I also know that if I list anyone, I’ll leave out someone who really, really should be mentioned. I’ll just say this: anyone who is actively working at the craft of writing and putting themselves out there deserves all the praise and admiration in the world. Same goes for artists! You’re putting a naked little piece of your soul out there for the world to see, criticize, hopefully (but not necessarily) love, and that is SO brave! So the truest answer here is: all of you! 

22. A story I recommend: Same answer as above! I would recommend @swissmissficrecs for recs! 

Tagging: anyone who reads this post and writes. You’re tagged. :)

[pluckyredhead]

Daredevil 101: The King of Hell’s Kitchen

And we’re back! Last time, Matt beat the crap out of Fisk, unmasked in Josie’s, and declared himself the new Kingpin. We pick up a year later, with Ben explaining to an unseen companion at a diner just what’s been going on for the past twelve months. This is gonna be a long one, guys, sorry. (Bendis/Maleev, DD v2 #56-60.)

[Content Warning: There is a passing reference to Squirrel Hill, as in the Pittsburgh neighborhood - no connection to the recent tragedy there, as this comic is about 15 years old. I just didn’t want anyone blindsided.]

Basically, despite Matt unmasking in front of a room full of criminals, everyone is too terrified of him to actually admit that they saw his face, which means that he’s been able to keep up the double life game, even though fewer people than ever believe he’s not Daredevil anymore. This is all stuff Ben has gathered through hearsay, since Matt told him to stay away for his own protection and they haven’t spoken directly since before Josie’s.

Matt even had time to grow a horrible goatee!

It’s SO BAD, MATTHEW, WHY.

He also won his lawsuit against that one tabloid, meaning that currently, in the eyes of the court, Matt Murdock is not Daredevil. He donated the enormous amount of money he won to neighborhood charities. Please note this line: “See, Matt’s new girlfriend, Milla Donovan, actually works at the Hell’s Kitchen housing commission.” Just hold onto that for a minute.

Matt’s so popular, in fact, he’s approached to run for mayor!

“I am dizzy from you.” Wow, Franklin. WOW.

Not everyone is happy with Matt’s recent choices, though, as evidenced by an intervention from some of the local superheroes:

Do you think Luke got all the way to that fourth panel before realizing he was the only one here without an alliterative name and felt suddenly self-conscious? Do you think he had a split second of “Should I try to go by Carl Cage just for right now? Could I pull it off?”

Anyway one of the things I really love about Maleev’s art is the specificity of his...well, either photo referencing or just drawing from life. I could take you to the exact spot they’re standing in Bryant Park. (It’s a logical meeting place for this group, too, since it’s centrally located and walking distance from - but not inside - Hell’s Kitchen.)

Anyway, the others are pissed because Matt saying “Get out of Hell’s Kitchen!” to criminals just...made them do crime above 59th Street and below 34th, which was a pretty foregone conclusion. Matt’s unsympathetic:

Who wants to tell Matt that Hell’s Kitchen, Harlem, and the Village are all in Manhattan and his little plan here doesn’t make sense? Like, Matt and Luke covering neighborhoods while the other three, who can travel further and faster, cover the city as a whole, does make sense, but also “go do crime over there” doesn’t stop crime. As Peter points out, while wearing a very strange facial expression.

But Matt ignores the warnings, and ignores the growing tension in Hell’s Kitchen, and then, just a few days before Ben’s telling this story, he and Milla are attacked by like a hundred Yakuza assassins. He sends Milla running for safety...and hasn’t been seen since. And that’s all Ben knows.

And that’s when we see who he’s been talking to:

I want to clarify that Ben’s explanation of the past year of events has taken two full issues. That’s like five bucks worth of comics that is Ben mansplaining Milla’s own recent history to her, including explaining to her what her job is. They should have killed 616 Ben instead, Jesus.

Also, Milla and Matt are married! Hey, how about that?! She goes on to explain to a stunned Ben (who, I guess, didn’t ask her any questions before he started talking for two entire months holy shit Ben what is wrong with you) that they got married about four months ago, and we later learn that Milla’s the one who proposed. So she proposed to a man she’d known for eight months, who is...sort of a crime boss? An anti-crime boss? Anyway, keep that in your pocket for a bit.

(I’m sorry, I’m still so angry about these two issues. Anyone who wants to hear me rant about decompression, the ask box is open.)

Uh, Milla, that’s not a compliment. You want Matt to be in love with you as a human being, not the abstract concept of you as a conglomeration of eight million people and island real estate.

Anyway, Matt told Milla that if anything went wrong, she should contact Ben. She and Ben are both baffled by this, so Ben goes to see the actual person most likely to know where Matt is:

Take the money and just make shit up, Fogy! Anyway my poor beautiful tired boy has no idea where Matt is, and is also rather wounded that Matt had a contingency plan in place for Milla but a) not for Foggy and b) didn’t tell Foggy about it. Especially since the Yakuza are out in full force and Foggy has been sleeping in his office because he can’t safely leave it.

My heart. Foggy has never really gotten to grieve on page for Karen, given that he was in jail for her funeral, but he knew her as long as Matt did (technically slightly longer) and he loved her too.

Ben tracks Matt to the Night Nurse (who, remember, is not Claire Temple in the comics) and floats a new theory by him:

I’m very sorry Matt but i can’t take you seriously with that facial hair.

Matt stops crying long enough to deny it, but by now Ben knows he’s right:

I’m...pretty sure this is the first time someone has seriously said: “Matt, your behaviors are unhealthy and I’m concerned about your mental health.” And, like, itemized them (including explicitly saying that flaking on Foggy and leaving him in these crisis situations is cruel!). People have said “you’re crazy” or “you’re being a jerk” but it’s always been said in anger. This is uncompromising but compassionate. This is “a terrible thing happened to you and I know that you’re still in pain.” No wonder Matt cries.

And Matt’s not the only one who’s listening:

Wow, Foggy has a good memory. And the face of a man who is contextualizing the past few years of his life and doesn’t like what he sees.

(A+ for the frazzle of of hat hair, Maleev.)

Matt goes to a safehouse. Foggy goes...somewhere undetermined. A spa? Everyone gets naked:

No, seriously, I have no idea why everyone needed to be SO NAKED in this scene (although I’m not complaining). Anyway please enjoy FOGGY’S TATTOO (WHAT???) and also Matt calling him both “Franklin” and “good boy” in a single page.

If you want to, like, read the actual words and pay attention to plot, I GUESS, Matt promises to deal with the Yakuza situation. Foggy’s still not happy:

YES I HAD TO INCLUDE THIS DOUBLE PAGE SPREAD, IT’S IMPORTANT. Text if you can’t embiggen:

Matt: Are you breaking up with me?

Foggy: I don’t think you’ll let me.

Matt: I need you, Foggy. I’ll fix this. I’ll make it right.

Foggy: Yeah, okay. So just do what you have to do.

Matt: I need you to bring me something to wear.

Foggy: Something red?

Matt: It’s red?

Foggy: What?

Matt: I thought it was yellow.

Foggy: ...Are you serious?

Matt: No.

Foggy: That was pretty funny.

IT IS A VERY GOOD AND IMPORTANT EXCHANGE and it is only slightly marred by Milla draped in silent nakedness over Matt the whole time because...of reasons? Ugh.

Matt goes to get backup and finds himself being dragged for like the third time in 24 hours:

Haha! Pregnant women! So hysterical about being lied to by their friends and employers who they are risking their lives for! Hormones, fellas, amirite???! LOL.

(Seriously, fuck this shit.)

Anyway. Main Yakuza Dude Whose Name I Forget is still pretty confident about moving on Hell’s Kitchen now that Matt’s out of the picture:

Oh man, sorry about your life, Main Yakuza Dude!

“Are you guys sure you want me to do this pose? It feels more ‘boy band’ than ‘badass.’“

“Yeah, Luke, definitely!"

“Yeah? I don’t know, I kind of feel like...”

“No, dude, it works, it looks totally cool, I promise!”

They beat up the Yakuza. Meanwhile, Foggy joins Milla at the safehouse:

Why is Milla still in her underwear???????????????? #cancelmen

When Matt returns to the safehouse after defeating the Yakuza, Foggy is gone, and Milla is finally dressed...and very unhappy. She tells him what Foggy told her:

Here are the things that jump out at me about this page:

1. Milla says “this Karen Page person,” which implies that she has rarely or never heard Karen mentioned before. Considering that Matt (and Foggy!) knew Karen for, as Ben pointed out, almost all of his adult life, and that she was intrinsically tied not just to Matt (and Foggy!) but Daredevil and Nelson and Murdock, this is stunning. How do you spend a year with your wife and almost never mention someone you were intimately close to for at least a decade? I know Matt is secretive by nature, but this makes me think that Matt and Milla essentially never had any real or deep communication. Which, honestly, checks out.

2. We don’t see the conversation between Milla and Foggy. Theoretically, he could have said “LOLOLOL MATT NEVER LOVED YOU HE STILL LOVES MY DEAD FRIEND SUCK IT” but that seems...out of character, to say the least. I suspect, given how confused and distressed Milla is, that he said something more like “I think the reason Matt is acting like this is because he is still processing his trauma over the death of someone he loved very much.” Which shouldn’t be a surprise to Milla, considering that one of the very first things Matt told her was “Two women I loved have been murdered.” But apparently this is a great betrayal somehow??? Because:

And this is why I just can’t with Milla. So much of what doesn’t work with her character, like the thin personality and the helplessness and the fact that she’s IN HER UNDERWEAR ALL THE TIME FOR NO REASON, is because of sexist writing and drawing, and I’m not laying that at her feet. And I’ll be the first person to declare that Matt Murdock is a shitty boyfriend/partner and has been to literally every single woman he’s dated.

But the compassionate response to “the person I love is having a nervous breakdown because he lost someone he cared about” is not to scream “SHUT UP!!!” and accuse him of lying. I’m not married but I’m preeeeeetty sure the vows don’t include “I swear that I definitely never loved anyone else and if I did, I don’t love them anymore.” Matt broke no promises here (for once!) and, as I’ve said before, Milla went on two highly dangerous dates with Matt Murdock and then he declared himself Kingpin and then she proposed. She had all the evidence she needed that life with Matt is dangerous, bizarre, and full of ethical pitfalls and the ghosts of murdered girlfriends, and as an educated, intelligent adult woman in charge of her own business, she decided to sign up. This one is absolutely not on Matt and it pisses me off that it’s treated like it is.

Anyway. *breathes*

Next up: Black Widow returns!

[kiruuuuu]

Extremely happy, @incorrect-r6s!! ♥ And I hope you are too, seeing as I apparently can’t stop writing about them :) So here’s more Montagne/Bandit in which Bandit says no and both of them are unhappy about it. (Rating T, emotional hurt/comfort, ~4.8k words)

The other parts can be found via tags (I tag my fics on here religiously) or here on my Masterpost! (Mobile version here)

.

It’s strange. As one of the most commonly used words, Montagne would think he’d be used to hearing it by now. As the answer he expected, Montagne would think he wouldn’t be surprised upon it actually being uttered. As the response for which he prepared himself, Montagne would think he’d know how to react.

And yet the simple no throws him off completely.

Bandit’s eyes have hardened which is probably why he doesn’t aim his gaze at Montagne directly – he doesn’t want him to feel the full effect of his stony expression. He makes no move to explain himself or add anything, so the single word hangs in the air heavily between them for a few seconds during which Montagne struggles to compose himself. The bluntness of it hurts, he can’t deny it, but he’s willing to give Bandit the benefit of the doubt regardless. Around them, conversations trickle on, now and then someone laughs loudly though overall the canteen is typically quiet for this early in the morning. He chose to raise the topic now because he anticipated Bandit closing off or wanting to withdraw to ponder his suggestion, which is why he refrained from mentioning it the night before.

That, and Bandit’s urgency actually worried him a little. It was obvious his absence was detrimental to Bandit’s overall well-being, which constitutes another issue he planned to address later.

“Why?”, he asks and regrets the question the moment his lover glares at him. This isn’t how he pictured the conversation to go, not at all, he expected a fight maybe or hesitant refusal which wouldn’t waver in the moment but over time, yet this, this is looking like genuine anger and rejection.

“I don’t want to”, comes the curt answer. “I just don’t. Stop asking.”

He can’t. Not when he’s met with a wall out of the blue and is now determined to figure out how to bypass or climb it. “Dom, I respect your decision and I will stop asking if you want me to. But I would still like to know why. You don’t need to tell me now, it’s fine if you need to -”

“You’re not good for me.”

It feels like a punch to the gut. Montagne sits silently, trying to recover from the blow whereas Bandit listlessly stabs his scrambled eggs without eating any of it. He’s lost weight over the two weeks Montagne was gone, hasn’t slept well, others have reported his mood as being rotten – is this what he’s referring to? Montagne hopes to God it is. Regret is creeping into Bandit’s expression now, a kind of self-hate Montagne has encountered before, often born from misguided pride. A result of pushing those away who’d otherwise refuse to leave his side. “What do you mean?” His throat is dry and he, too, has lost all appetite. If he’d known it’d turn sour this quickly he would’ve waited after they’re finished eating.

“You don’t want to be around me all the time.” He’s trying to divert attention from what he previously said but Montagne can’t un-hear the words, can’t pretend they’re not weighing him down. “Right now it’s fine because you can throw me out of your room if you want and we don’t have to be together all day. But if we lived together, that’s not – you wouldn’t want that.”

“I know what I want”, he responds firmly yet gently, “and that is exactly it. I do want to be around you all the time. It’s what we’re doing already, Dom. We sleep in the same bed every night.”

“We didn’t for the last two weeks”, he states bitingly and it sounds as if he’s blaming Montagne for this.

“And I missed you every night. It wasn’t my decision to leave and I didn’t enjoy being away from you. It made me realise how much I love your company and I do believe we would be happier if we lived together. Right now, you don’t seem to feel at home in your room but see yourself as a guest in mine. We could have a place which belongs to both of -”

“No.” The insistence behind the word silences Montagne. He doesn’t, probably can’t understand why Bandit is so against this, not with the information he’s been privy to so far. It can’t only be insecurity. Both of them remain mute for a long while during which Montagne tests out a million different approaches in his head – Bandit is feeling cornered for whatever reason, so it’d be best to back off, agree with him for now, drop the topic. He knows this. And yet he can’t get those words out of his head. “I don’t want to need you”, Bandit eventually raises his voice again.

Montagne is instantly reminded of the very beginning of their budding relationship. I don’t fucking need you, Bandit had said and been very wrong about it. It might be that he feels he’s the only one, Montagne may have not been vocal enough about his own reliance on his lover. “I need you too”, he offers weakly and earns a sneer.

“That makes it worse.” He shakes his head because he doesn’t think it does yet Bandit is adamant. “Can we just – take a step back? I’m not… I don’t like this.”

They’ve lost each other at this point and Bandit seems to be saying only half of what he means. It’s a mess and Montagne should interrupt them both before it devolves even further or before either of them come to a conclusion they’ll end up regretting and yet something in him demands to prod further, push Bandit to a point where he can’t turn back. He doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s ugly spite, an inappropriate want for revenge for directing such painful words at Montagne, words he’s fairly sure he didn’t deserve – he only knows that he needs to stop talking and that he won’t. “What do you mean, a step back?”

Bandit’s mouth is doing something odd, looking like he’s either going to cry or yell in anger, seems to be biting back a torrent of words possibly even worse than the ones already inhabiting Montagne’s thoughts. He’s forced to say it now, Montagne made him. “I don’t know. Go back to being fucking casual. This is too much.”

We were never casual. The sentence itches on the tip of his tongue, as true as it is unhelpful. Bandit doesn’t mean it, can’t mean it. Regardless, it’s Montagne’s turn now: “No.” Eyes lock with his as they’ve done so many times before in so many different contexts, though never quite like this, never with that much dismay in them. “I can’t do that. You mean too much to me, I can’t pretend you don’t.”

Further into the corner Bandit goes, visibly uncomfortable with the open declaration. It feels like Montagne is doing everything wrong. “So you’d rather, what? End it? It’s either nothing or me suffocating?”

This hurts. Does it really feel that way to Bandit? It can’t be, Montagne knows it not to be true and yet his conviction wavers in the face of this broken expression in front of him. “Those aren’t the only two options”, he offers but it’s futile, at this point Bandit won’t listen to anything he has to say.

“Yeah, they are.” And with this, Bandit gets up, abandoning his breakfast, abandoning his lover, stalks away with a scowl and evades anyone who tries to talk to him on the way out.

Montagne is left to blankly stare at the table, wondering what in the world just happened. An hour ago, he felt confident enough in their relationship to suggest living together and now – what? Where do they stand? It’s impossible to believe that all this build-up, the moments they shared, problems they addressed and largely overcame, their mutual trust and affection could be invalidated this easily but it might just be what happened. He’s aware of Bandit’s commitment issues, knows about his hesitancy concerning anything intimate (though he, for some reason, didn’t seem to consider sex intimate at first), but never fathomed they’d surface like this.

He needs to talk to him, that much is obvious, once he’s cooled off, once he’s had the time to think it over. It might take more than a day.

Montagne has to find Blitz.

.

On the way, he made a mental list of all things necessary to address, planning to keep the conversation professional and short – he doesn’t like bothering others with personal problems, prefers helping to seeking help and therefore has to fight down initial embarrassment upon needing to talk to Blitz at all. But it all crumbles when the German, previously engaged in conversation with a beaming Rook (and this is something Montagne has kept his eye on for a while already), takes one look at him and asks sharply: “What did he do?”

His chest constricts as he tries to answer, attempts to come up with an explanation despite not even having one in the first place. Yes, Bandit did something, potentially ripped apart the seemingly solid structure they built together, but he can’t be sure, only knows he’s not good for him and suffocating him and how can he tell Blitz any of this?

Before he can even consider telling the two that he doesn’t know, Rook is already hugging him and this is when he realises he’s crying. He can’t even remember the last time he cried, probably in the context of his divorce, dating it back almost a decade, and so he doesn’t know what to do, how to make it stop. His hands are trembling and so he grips Rook’s pullover tightly instead, forcing down a sob and desperately scrambling to compose himself again – they’re in the middle of the hallway, everyone could see them and it’s the last thing he wants. After he’s taken a few shuddering breaths, Rook’s hand soothingly stroking over his back during all this, he withdraws again, wiping his eyes and ready to apologise yet halts when he notices Blitz’ expression.

Where Rook is regarding him with a worried and concerned one, Blitz’s a mix of shock and pure unadulterated fury. “I’m going to fuck his shit up”, he murmurs and prompts a half amused, half sad laugh from Montagne. They wordlessly pull him into Rook’s room and lavish him with care for a bit, providing him with a glass of water, cracking jokes to momentarily distract him and actually manage to feel him better in the end, not so alone and less guilty about seeking someone else’s advice. When his voice doesn’t shake anymore and he’s regained the ability to think about Bandit without feeling like an all-encompassing void is going to swallow him the next second, he recounts their conversation and watches Blitz’ face darken and Rook’s turn confused.

“He’s such a dumb idiot”, Blitz eventually states, earning himself a frown from the young Frenchman. “I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean it, none of it.”

Montagne’s brows lift. “How sure?” At this, Rook inexplicably whips out his phone and begins furiously tapping on the screen, seemingly not interested in the conversation anymore.

“I’ve known him for a while now, and to be honest, I’ve never seen him this happy before. Stop doubting yourself, he’ll have to realise -”

Rook interrupts the two by shoving his phone under Montagne’s nose, displaying a picture of a decidedly grumpy Bandit crossing his arms and glaring off to the side. Before Montagne can ask him what he wants to achieve by this, Rook tells him: “Swipe to the next one.” He does and though the following photo seems to be taken only a few minutes later, the person in it seems completely different, his aura changed wholly: his body language is more open, his face has lit up considerably and he’s smiling down at his phone in genuine joy. He looks endearing and seeing him like this feels both like a stab to the heart and a salve for his soul simultaneously.

“What is this?”, he asks weakly, fighting down the urge to get up, find Bandit and just hug him.

“From last week”, his teammate explains quietly. “He looked like this every time you messaged him.” Did he really? Breathing becomes difficult all of a sudden. The replies he received were often curt but now that he thinks about it, usually came back immediately. He knows Bandit doesn’t like to text much and yet he did so unfailingly for two weeks. “There’s one more.”

This one increases the longing unbearably. It’s a photo of his own room, more specifically of his bed, Bandit lying on Montagne’s side, tightly hugging his lover’s pillow and his phone half buried under the side of his face. It must’ve been taken after one of the evenings on which he talked Bandit to sleep and he belatedly realises he’s wearing one of Montagne’s t-shirts. It’s so heartwarming he can’t take it.

“He was actually late because he overslept and we were worried because he didn’t find him in his room, so…” Rook gestures at his phone and puts it back into his pocket after Montagne nods in understanding. He knows what his teammate is trying to tell him and it does help immensely, calms the self-doubts raging inside him. It wasn’t a delusion when he thought of Bandit being happy with him.

“I need to talk to him”, he says determinedly but hesitates when Blitz shakes his head.

“Give him some space. He apparently doesn’t deal with this well, so it’s best to let him come to his senses first.”

He heaves a sigh but eventually agrees. “Can you do me a favour though? Keep him company if we’re still not talking tonight. He hasn’t seen No Country For Old Men but he’d like it, so suggest watching it some time after midnight. He’ll probably fall asleep halfway through, you can turn everything off and go to bed then, but give him the blue blanket, it’s the thickest. Thank you in advance.”

The other two exchange a meaningful glance and offer him a slight smile. “I think you’re going to be okay”, Rook tells him, reaches out and squeezes his hand.

.

Montagne is imbalanced for the rest of the day. Uncertainty gnaws at him, an odd mood has taken up residence in his mind and refuses to leave, dulling all positive interactions to a mere neutral and making all inconveniences seem like insurmountable obstacles. He drags his feet and feels his gaze drawn to anything and everything not only of Bandit himself but also reminding him of his lover, which, as it turns out, is a whole lot, yet nothing comes close to going to sleep in an empty bed. He tosses and turns, endlessly recounts the one conversation which hopefully didn’t destroy what he held most dearly and wonders how he could’ve lead it better, how he could’ve averted all this.

For most of the day, Bandit managed to ensure they didn’t end up in the same room which hurt just as much, if not more, than being ignored in his presence, though he admittedly didn’t seem very chipper either. It’s obvious he’s dissatisfied with the situation yet makes no move to change it, which fits to what Blitz said about him needing space. Montagne gladly would’ve granted him some had he only asked – he’s not clingy; even if he prefers to be near his lover he can survive just fine without breathing the same air as him constantly. But he’s gotten used to his cool body next to his own when he’s dozing off and without him, his bed seems depressingly empty. The last two weeks were a necessity. This isn’t.

Unsurprisingly, he ends up not being able to sleep. He browses his phone, makes the mistake of re-reading older messages which he now sees in a very different light, picturing Bandit’s pure and delighted smile again, thinks back to the evening Bandit masturbated in his bed. He was wearing his clothes. Not only that, he probably slept in his bed the whole time.

Eventually, he gives up and paces his room restlessly, wondering whether Blitz followed his suggestion and made sure Bandit doesn’t eat himself alive from boredom or worry or guilt. It’s one in the morning already, and though he vowed not to force it, not to corner Bandit once more, he can’t help himself. He sends him a text: are you still up? It doesn’t matter to him whether he’s busy or not or whatever it is he’s doing, he wants to see him. Even if they don’t talk. Even if they don’t even touch. His presence is enough.

A minute later, he gets an answer: no. While he frowns down at his screen, unsure how to react to this, two more things pop up: dsl and jtm.

It’s all he needed. Despite only being in pyjama shorts, he throws his phone onto his mattress and storms out of his room, wondering on the way when Bandit started understanding and even using French text speak, the first abbreviation being désolé, sorry, and the second je t’aime. I love you.

Even though he was so ready to forgive Bandit immediately, seeing the back of his head peeking over the couch in the lounge triggers an anger born from relief – now he knows it’ll be fine, but he’s been put through this misery regardless. The film is still playing, seems to be about halfway and yet Bandit isn’t sleeping but instead wrapped in the blue blanket and eating ice cream directly out of the tub with a tablespoon. He doesn’t look up when Montagne approaches, doesn’t move when he sits down next to him, eyes glued to the screen.

“Are you angry?”, Bandit wants to know very quietly.

“Yes.” Brown eyes slide over to his, apparently not expecting this answer. “I had an absolutely horrible day.”

“Me too.” He stuffs a large spoonful of basically all sugar into his mouth. “I don’t like being addicted. I know what it’s like. It’s the worst.”

“Dom, you’re not addicted to me. Relying on somebody is completely different.”

He scowls as if to disagree, yet doesn’t object out loud. “Dependent on you then. I eat and sleep when I’m with you and when I’m not, I don’t. That fucking sucks. You’re not my goddamn nanny.”

The mission must’ve made him aware of this, prompted him to critically evaluate their relationship in this regard and come to the wrong conclusion. Montagne sighs, scratches his head. “I know I can’t fix you, but I can help. How can you focus on yourself when you’re not sleeping because of nightmares? How can you concentrate on getting better if you’re physically too weak? Please. Let me just… be there. I want to.”

Bandit stays silent for a while, following the action on the TV for a bit before reaching out for the remote and pausing the film, which is when Montagne notices they’re not actually alone: Blitz and Rook are sleeping on the sofa next to them, Blitz stretched out and Rook draped over his chest, resting between his legs. “What if you leave?”, Bandit asks. “And don’t give me that bullshit about never leaving. You could die on any mission.”

“Then I suppose you have to decide what you’re going to do – whether you’ll take that risk or not.” Montagne offers a tentative smile which is met by a softening of Bandit’s features. “But I think you’ve made that decision already. You’re just doubting it right now.” If Bandit hadn’t wanted to become attached, if he hadn’t wanted to love, he wouldn’t have remained by Montagne’s side voluntarily.

“I’m fucking terrified.” Bandit’s voice is small. “I’ve only moved in together with one partner ages ago and it turned out to be a disaster. I don’t want to be annoying. I don’t want to put you off. And I definitely don’t want you feeling responsible for me.”

Hearing him voice his concerns is like a breath of fresh air, clears Montagne’s lungs and his thoughts alike. Bandit is ready to listen now and it’s an immense relief. “Barely anything is going to change between us. But you’ll hopefully have a place to call home. You can hide from the world if you want to or invite it in. That’s all. We already eat breakfast and dinner together, sleep in one bed, read in one room.”

He mulls it over while emptying the tub, staring at nothing, the cogs in his head turning furiously. “It’s more than that, though. If we break up, it’s awkward. And what if the walls are thin and we have to listen to some old couple doing it? Do you want to get leather sofas?”

Montagne wordlessly scoops him up and pulls him onto his lap, smiling into his hair and holding him tight when Bandit discards the empty ice cream, wraps all his limbs around him immediately, buries his face in the nape of Montagne’s neck. Both of them are radiating relief now though Bandit clings to him a little too desperately for his taste. “We don’t have to do it any time soon”, he whispers and kisses the top of his lover’s head, “I mostly just wanted you to know that I’d like it if we lived together. If you change your mind or just decide you don’t want to, it’s fine. But please, never do anything like that again. Alright?”

“I know”, comes the mumbled reply and his guilty conscience is audible, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, my love.” He draws soothing patterns on Bandit’s back and basks in the physical contact, enjoying the warmth of Bandit’s blanket covering them both. Despite the most obvious issue being resolved, a troubling one remains. “I need to know which parts you actually meant though. Am I suffocating you? Do you need more space, more time to yourself?”

His answer is a decisive shake of the head. “No. No, you’re not, I was just – I don’t know. I wasn’t in a good place this morning.” It seems he wants to leave it at that but remembers Montagne’s request to at least tell him why, so he struggles to come up with a better answer: “I dreamt of you once or twice and it wasn’t… good. I missed you. And last night, I think I realised how much I really need you and it scared me. Fuck, saying this out loud is the worst, I feel so fucking stupid.”

Montagne feels a smile pull on the corners of his mouth and gently massages Bandit’s scalp until he relaxes into his embrace. “It was a little stupid”, he agrees and feels Bandit’s hug tighten, “I would just like to know that I can count on you telling me if there’s something wrong. Before it escalates.”

“Yes. I’ll try. I’m not – I’m not good at it. At talking. But I’ll try. I’m sorry.”

The words soothe his soul and he nods contently. One thing is for sure, he needs to become better at reading Bandit, understanding his moods and navigating difficult conversations with him – talking about what bothers his lover is a good start, allows him to get a better feel for what goes on inside his head. Sometimes, when he watches Blitz interact with his lover, he realises with a pang how adept Blitz is at predicting Bandit’s behaviour which probably is to be expected since they’ve been close friends for much longer than Montagne even knows him.

And yet there’s a variety of things Blitz has stated he’s never witnessed Bandit do – among them quite a few actions Montagne has seen him take, the most recent being talking about his feelings as well as apologising. There are a few others, like cuddling as a source of comfort, kissing without sexual intent or turning down sex in general, all of which Bandit did at some point. It’s not without pride that Montagne notices he seems to bring out Bandit’s softer side, a side even Blitz isn’t familiar with.

The thought makes him glance over to the other two operators and he notices with a mix of alarm and joy that Blitz is returning his gaze, visibly distraught, probably because he’s witnessing Bandit doing so many things for the very first time. It’s an odd relief to be shown this unambiguously that the relationship he has with Bandit is so unique in many ways that his best friend even is astonished at the bond they share. Just to show off a little, he lifts Bandit’s chin and initiates a deep kiss into which he sinks gladly, relieved at apparently being forgiven and as of yet unaware of Blitz’ attention. Montagne keeps it going for a while, strokes over Bandit’s tongue with his own and hums into it which is met with a soft purring. When they finally break apart again, breathing heavier, he asks: “Want to go back to my room?”

His intention is clear and yet, as he expected, Bandit simply declines, not in the mood for more, still yearning for affection and affirmation. “Not yet. Can we just… stay like this for a bit?”

And at this, he can’t help himself, he has to look over to where Blitz is gaping at them in open disbelief, staring at Bandit like he sprouted another head and yet trying not to move so he doesn’t wake up Rook. Frowning, Bandit follows his lover’s gaze and returns Blitz’ for a split second before basically panicking. His entire body stiffens and he jumps up, declares with reddening cheeks: “Okay, we’re leaving. Not a single word, Elias, or you’re fucking dead.”

Blitz’ shock is slowly dissipating and making way for a wide, gleeful grin indicating he’s not taking the threat seriously whatsoever and merely itching to let everyone know of how Bandit turns into a kitten in Montagne’s arms. This, in turn, prompts Bandit to throw a look at the peacefully snoozing Rook on top of him. “You don’t say anything about what you think you heard and I won’t tell everyone about the brat and you. Deal?”

His teammate pretends to ponder the option, looks down at the brown shock of hair fondly and finally nods, following them with his eyes as Bandit takes Montagne’s hand and drags him out of the room, ignoring his wide smile and the blush on his own face. They navigate the dark corridors easily, having done so numerous times before, and end up in Montagne’s room, Bandit still holding on to him even after closing the door behind them. “Did you know he was awake?”, he accuses the Frenchman by his side and narrows his eyes suspiciously.

“What is with the two, anyway? They’ve been hanging out a lot”, Montagne steers the topic away quite conspicuously and yet Bandit jumps on it readily with a sarcastic reply.

“Yeah, what do you think? The same as us two.”

“Oh, so they’re madly in love? So bad they don’t know how to deal with it?”, Montagne prompts and earns an eye roll.

“And one of them behaves like a fucking idiot and almost ruins it? I hope not. Because that would suck for the both of them.” With this, Bandit melts against him once more and curses quietly. “I’m really sorry. If you’d said to me half of what I threw at you, I wouldn’t forgive you so easily.”

“That is how it works though. I’m not going to give you up because of a few words spoken in anger or defence.”

“You wouldn’t back off even if I told you I didn’t want to be together with you anymore?”

Montagne tries to picture it, tries to emulate what happened last morning. “No. Not as long as there’s a chance you didn’t mean it.”

“I don’t deserve you.” And before he can object, can tell Bandit that he deserves even better, deserves peace and all the love in the world, deserves to be happy most of all, they’re kissing again, short kisses this time and only interrupted by small smiles and gentle caresses. Bandit undresses in the meantime and slips under the covers with him, pressing close but more than satisfied with his presence.

“I’m going to ask Six whether it’s possible for us to only go on missions together from now on”, Montagne tells him, speaks against his temple and touches it with his lips as he rubs circles into Bandit’s side. “She should agree, seeing as she usually picks teams based on compatibility anyway.”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

They’re both tired and so it’s the end of their conversation, both of them drifting off to sleep while holding on to each other. The last thought Montagne has before dozing off is: I should ask Rook for those photos. He’s sure they’d make perfect wallpapers for his phone.

[jaxyu-a]

→ headcanon: jae-ha’s ptsd.

i remember mentioning a million years ago how i was gonna try to write out something about how jae-ha’s mind works and basically the influence that his childhood abuse ( which was physical and mental // emotional ) had on him. so here is an attempt to expand on it a little more. idk i probably will edit this more as time goes on but i wanted to post this here really for my own reference.

jae-ha has complex ptsd ( with psychosis ) given that it was chronic abuse ( happened over a period of 12 years ). he didn’t have many of the protective factors either — he was socially and physically isolated, and his abuser was really his only point of contact ( though i often mention garou as his sole abuser, the villagers were also complicit in this abuse, and really the purveyor of it ). his mental d/o is undiagnosed, even in his modern verse ( since he had no interest in going to therapy & refused to ). i’ll split this up into childhood and adulthood manifestations because while he hasn’t “gotten over it” he has shifted in the symptoms he primarily experiences. his coping mechanisms into adulthood make the existence of these issues more subtle, but sometimes he does experience the other ( childhood ) symptoms, just less frequently than when he was younger & usually brought on by a trigger. just fyi, jae-ha will probably never really speak about this in its entirety, especially the hallucinations. 

CHILDHOOD // TEENAGE YEARS

paranoia // distrust // hypervigilance — constantly on edge around others, didn’t really want to stay in one place // he was constantly on the run thinking that the villagers would be after him, even long after he left // he was often distrustful of the intentions of others after garou died and he lived on the streets // he had to deal with people who wished to use him & his powers for his own benefit even outside of his childhood home and that further cemented his distrust in those around him

anxiety surrounding being touched — usually manifesting as initial flinch // recoil // disgust reflex due to an expectation of pain. might have reacted violently to it as well, depending on how someone touched him ( if it was a harsh touch, he’d respond likewise ) // he’s likely to be more hesitant around men than women

flashbacks — an almost constant thing // mostly it was garou’s voice echoing in his mind but at night this turned to nightmares of him being chained again or used for his powers

insomnia — to avoid the nightmares that plagued his sleep, he’d often just stay up to try to avoid it, resulting in many sleepless nights // he’d often have trouble falling asleep and staying asleep

hallucinations — auditory, visual, & tactile // seeing ghosts // feeling the weight of chains on his wrists and ankles though they were no longer there // hearing garou’s voice echoing in his mind or the sounds of chains at night or at other unspecified times

panic // anxiety attacks — these could come out of nowhere or actually have a trigger ( usually being touched, having arrows aimed at him, threatened to be shot down ) // when confronted with dangerous situations, he’d hyperventilate, start to think he was going to die, etc.

angry and violent outbursts — could come from being touched or from feeling powerless // if he wasn’t progressing as he thought he should, it irritated him // when he couldn’t block garou’s voice from his mind, he would lash out // sometimes his anxiety & panic attacks could turn into outbursts of violence

withdrawal // isolation — avoided getting close to people // as a child, he would keep people at a distance through more aggressive mannerisms // in modern, this was a big reason why he refused to go into the adoption system — if his own blood didn’t want him, who would ? garou always told him that no one would want him.

internalization of negative assumptions — he was always told he couldn’t fit in // he was a monster // no one would accept him and this added to his tendency to withdraw from others out of the fear that he would be rejected or other expectations of pain // he also experienced immense guilt for leaving garou behind and for stealing his life away // often times he did believe that he deserved the abuse that he got

risky behaviors — included stealing // drugs // general recklessness 

dysphoria — just general feeling or state of unhappiness, often pervasive 

ADULTHOOD

fetis..hization of pain instead of anxiety surrounding it — so he basically reconditioned himself to think differently about being touched to lessen his discomfort surrounding it // masochism can be used as a coping mechanism, in a way it’s taking control; jae-ha had no control over the pain that he experienced as a child, but re-framing it in a consensual context helps him come to terms with abuse

memory repression — avoids thinking about anything to do with his past abuse at all but certain things can make him remember and cause him to withdraw ( usually he makes jokes about the subject, tries to brush it off, and then withdraws completely if the subject is pushed // may get angry tbh )

claustrophobia and cleithrophobia – basically caused by his fear of being tied down without escape or enclosed in small spaces, and this can trigger panic attacks // flashbacks // this can also trigger his anxiety, and if he’s trapped long enough, starts to have these fears of death or nightmares about dying // feelings of powerlessness or hopelessness can overwhelm him // he had this when he was younger too and it carried over 

withdrawal // isolation — in short, he has highly developed social skills that preclude vulnerability // instead of being reserved or aggressive as he was when he was a child, he comes off as friendly and open, but he does have many mental walls up // he shies away from emotional intimacy, but is fine with physical intimacy // in a way he can… kind of sabotage his own relationships because he has these internalized negative views, which is one of the reasons he shies away from commitment and tells himself he’s fine with being alone ( but he craves acceptance and intimacy ) // he over regulates his emotions a lot of the time, not allowing himself to feel certain things because he doesn’t want to return to the anger and recklessness of his youth 

internalization of negative assumptions about himself — such as being a monster, ugly, undeserving, never going to fit in, etc. — but instead of believing them outwardly, he over compensates by putting an emphasis on beauty, his appearance, independence, and freedom, convincing himself he’s better off alone instead of people don’t want me // his over confidence masks his insecurities 

self-medication — not saying he’s an alcoholic, but will turn to it in order to escape the discomfort of the present // in modern verses, he uses drugs like weed and smoking cigarettes for that, along with alcohol still // he has used harder drugs before but that was in his youth 

tendency towards protection — he’s very protective of others who he may or may not consider weaker and it’s because he doesn’t want people to experience what he has, basically

insomnia — not as bad as when he was younger, but he can still find it difficult to fall or stay asleep; his sleep habits really aren’t the best even as an adult // he does still have nightmares, though less frequent than in his childhood

dysphoria — certain reminders of the tragic event can trigger a general drop in his mood that may last a while

hypervigilance — manifesting more as keen perception than paranoia, since he has a better handle on it // he is very aware of people’s nonverbal cues, facial expressions, tone, etc. and he is very aware of his surroundings 

chronic pain — dull aches and pains usually around his wrist and ankles // he’ll get bad migraines // can manifest in other areas of his body, but the aforementioned areas are the most common // honestly he barely notices the pain anymore

thoughts jae-ha has had regarding his trauma: 

maybe my trauma wasn’t bad enough // maybe it was my fault // he was abused too, it wasn’t his fault // i shouldn’t still be angry // i let him die, i was killing him, i deserved it, i'm guilty // garou’s right, i’m a monster // if they realize i’m a monster, will they still accept me? // if i wasn’t a monster it wouldn’t have happened // it doesn’t matter if i get hurt, as long as no one else does, and i’m used to it // no one will accept me, i’m a monster // i shouldn’t bee feeling this way // i can’t let anyone know how i feel // i’m a monster, monster, monster // garou should’ve killed me

[undersummerskyy]

Hii! I honestly love your one shots so much, amazing work! I was wondering if you could write a one shot where beca writes a song for Chloe revealing her feelings about her and chloe hears it on the radio for the first time. Thank you so much!!

Sorry, it took me a while to write this, but I hope the story is worth the wait.

The song is ‘Together’ by Ryan Montbleau (YouTube link) and I really recommend listening to it!

AO3 Link

It’s weird how much can change over the course of one year. It’s something you don’t realize until after you graduate and suddenly you realize that you don’t know where you’ll be tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that one, or even months from now. You won’t be in the same classroom with the same friends making the same jokes.

You might not even talk to them anymore at all.

At least, not in the way it used to be.

Not like living together all the time, not ever having to actually ask them to go out that evening because you all know it’s happening anyway.

It doesn’t take months to plan one evening, doesn’t cost 500 dollars to fly out to see each other, doesn’t end with unanswered texts and missed phone calls.

It’s okay, really, because you’re family now and family doesn’t break apart, not even after weeks of silence. You don’t give up on each other.

It’s just hard.

The not knowing.

1 Year after the USO tour

Chloe Beale never thought her life would change that much when she agreed to come to the Bellas reunion. She thought it’d be nice. They would see each other, sing together, and maybe even catch up on what they were all doing in life.

Never did she think it would lead to them going on a tour around the world. Never did she think it would end with her kissing some soldier while her best friend sets off on a new adventure on the other side of the world.

She always knew Beca would get there. Maybe not like this, maybe not so early, and definitely not without her. She thought she’d be there. That’s the one thing she had always been so certain about.

But they were different people. They weren’t so careless anymore, so free. She didn’t jump into showers anymore with total strangers, or only worry about her acapella group. They didn’t have casual boyfriends that really didn’t care that much that sometimes they only had eyes for each other (in fact, she always knew Tom kind of liked it. At least, in the beginning, when he thought it was just a thing she did to turn him on. Which he soon realized it was not).

But Beca had Theo, or something, and Chicago was cute and it looked like a future with just her and Beca, in whatever way, just wasn’t possible.

Chicago could give her the only thing that Beca couldn’t.

A certainty of tomorrow, and the day after.

And maybe that was enough.

Beca had her future planned out, after all. She had her tomorrows. All of them. And none of them included Chloe.

So why should she stay behind, not knowing what time would bring her? She’s done enough of that, the waiting, the not knowing. It feels like that’s what it has always been like with Beca, no matter how great everything was during college.

Chloe waited for her to realize how great she was. She waited for her to make a move. Then she waited for her to break up with Jesse, she waited for her to say something, anything. She waited for her even after Beca’s performance ends. After she sings Freedom Chloe stays backstage for a bit and waits for her. Again. Stupidly.

She waits but Beca never shows.

But then Chicago turns around the corner and she rushes into his arms because he is there. And it’s enough.

She wonders if she missed something.

She wonders if she made a mistake or missed a sign or not listened when she was trying to tell her something.

But it just feels like not enough.

Not Beca.

She would have been enough.

Just, not like this.

Not with this insecurity.

She’s spent enough time waiting on her to say or do anything, and Beca moving to L.A while Chloe moved to San Francisco was just the final push for her to know that she needed to let it go.

It was hard to understand what Beca was trying to actually say while being in the same room, let alone roughly 383 miles (yes, she looked that up).

Sure, she’d gotten better at it over the years, but when it came to figuring out Beca’s true feelings towards her she still sometimes feels like the same confused Chloe who had met Beca that day of the activities fair.

Either way, there was nothing to do now.

She’s still with Chicago. They don’t see each other much, but it didn’t matter. She has a feeling they both know an ending to their relationship is inevitable.

Beca is.. well.. she’s Beca.

She’s badass and doing what she does best and as far as Chloe knows she’s being amazing at it.

They talk.

But not like they used to talk.

Looking back, she almost can’t believe that this is the same girl that she used to share a bed with for a year long. The same girl who she’d wake up to every morning and who would tell her about her feelings (as well as she could) and make her coffee and then in the evenings Beca would sometimes slide an arm around her waist and cuddle into her and Chloe would always think just how close they were to the real thing. They were almost there. And she stopped trying to force Beca to tell her, because she knew it was going to happen. She wasn’t sure when but she was certain now.

She was certain until she wasn’t and then starting over was just too much.

And it was too painful now to talk.

Beca would ask her about Chicago, and Chloe would ask her about work, and if there were any new guys in her life.

It was the same conversation every single time, and part of her wondered if they kept asking those question in the hopes that someday they’d hear the answer they actually want to hear.

‘No Beca, we’re not together. In fact, I love you.’

‘Chloe. You know it’s been you all along. I’m not dating anyone not because I don’t have the time, but because I don’t want to.’

She doesn’t like to think about it too much. Because it doesn’t make it better. It doesn’t change the answers.

Beca won’t really talk to her, even though Amy has informed her that she is, in fact, struggling with something. It’s too bad that they’re not the kind of friends anymore that share everything. It really is too bad.

A week later she’s in her car on the way to vet school when she turns on the radio. It’s not something she often does, preferring to listen to her own Spotify list. But today she just doesn’t feel like it. For some reason, they just remind her too much of Beca and she can’t deal with that today. She woke up in a bad mood and being sad about Beca is the last thing she needs.

Which is exactly why it almost makes her roll her eyes when she hears the announcement on the radio. Of course, this happens today. Of all days.

“And still with us in the studio, we have producer and artist Beca Mitchell, who’s about to give us a live performance of her new song. Beca, can you tell us again why you decided to write this particular track?”

She wants to turn the radio off. She really does.

But something stops her.

“Uh..” Her friend stammers, and it brings a smile to her face. Apparently, not everything has changed. She’s still awkward. “So, like I said before, I don’t want to share too much, but this song is just really personal and it’s something I felt like I just needed to write. I uh- and my friends will vouch for this, I have a hard time expressing my emotions, and music has always really helped me. Which I guess is why I wrote this. For uh- closure, you know?”

The radio DJ chuckles. “I get it. Now, you go ahead and introduce yourself!”

“Alright,” She clears her throat and Chloe can start to feel her heart beating faster in her chest already. “So, this is Beca Mitchell and here’s my new song ‘Together’”.

Chloe is thankful for the morning traffic, for once, thankful that she can listen to Beca’s song without having to actually drive.

The second the song starts, she’s pretty sure she stops breathing at all.

She didn’t know Beca could play the guitar.

She also never thought Beca would go for a song like this. It’s quiet, and acoustic and something that she would have put on her playlist. Not Beca, definitely not. She likes mashups and beats and basically anything but this. The louder the better, sometimes. Loud enough to quiet the voices in her head, is what Chloe used to think.

But maybe that’s why she chose this. She’s finally letting that part of her speak.

It brings tears to her eyes instantly.

She starts singing then, and her voice sounds hoarse but as beautiful as Chloe remembers it. Sure, she’s heard Beca sing a million times before, but this is different. So very different.

“I’m not the way I’m supposed to beI’m supposed to be thankful for what I got.Things are not the way they’re supposed to beShe’s supposed to be here and she’s not.”

Chloe can’t believe what she’s hearing. First of all, it hurts to hear Beca’s obvious struggle. Is she unhappy? She truly hopes that she’s not, and if she is, she wants Beca to tell her already. To share.

And who is she talking about?

She wants it to be her. She does. But maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Right?

“If I was younger the stakes wouldn’t seem so highAnd as I grow older I fear I missed love’s callWell, we couldn’t be together as much as we’d have likedSo we won’t be together at all.”

She pretends she doesn’t hear the way Beca’s voice seems to shake a little more than usual, the way she can practically hear her throat closing as she tries to fight off her emotions. She herself doesn’t have too, however, and she knows she couldn’t even if she wanted to. Tears keep streaming down her face, clouding her vision. She knows that the guy in the car next to her has noticed, but she doesn’t care.

“And I knew the place where I’d bend upon one kneeIt was this one moonlit little spotAnd I knew the words I’d say as I showed her the ringThe ring I never bought.”

“Oh god.” She says, letting her head fall forward on her steering wheel, once again thankful for the traffic that still hasn’t moved.

“And if I was older maybe I wouldn’t have hesitatedAnd if I was younger I’d have built myself a wallWhen we couldn’t be together as much as we’d have likedAnd so we wouldn’t be together at all.”

It’s her, right? It has to be her.

It can’t be Jesse, because Beca keeps saying ‘her’. And as far as she knows Beca doesn’t have any other woman she’s interested in. Again, as far as she knows.

Traffic starts moving again, and she immediately pulls her car over to the side, stopping it completely before leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes. For some reason it makes her feel like she’s right there, actually listening to Beca. She focuses on the way her voice seems to gain confidence and she can practically see her now.

“And they say what’s meant to beOh, is meant to beAnd if it’s meant to be we’ll find our way eventuallyI’m trying to believe two hearts so caring and kindWere only beaten down by distance and timeOh, and we tried and we tried so hard it couldn’t be our faultWe’re just somehow better off not together at allAt allAt all.

And I’m not the way I’m supposed to beI’m supposed to be alright on my ownAnd things are just the way they’re supposed to beWe’re supposed to spread our wings now I supposeAnd as we grow older, who knowsWe may look back fondly on ourselves and recallWhen we couldn’t be together as much as we’d have likedAnd so we wouldn’t be together at all…”

The song ends.

She’s aware of the radio DJ and some other people applauding Beca but she can’t focus on it. It sounds like it’s all happening in another room and she hears pieces of the conversation but can’t make out the words.

She pulls out her phone, but she’s not even sure who to call or what to do. She has to do something of course, because if this really is about her it means that Beca loves her too, really loves her, and it means that she’s been vulnerable enough to not only admit it to herself but tell the whole world.

Chloe has been waiting for some kind of sign, gesture, all along. And this could be it. Beca could be braver than she ever has been or will be right now.

But she’s not sure, stupidly enough.

So she calls Amy.

“Red? What’s up?”

“Is it me?”

“Sorry? What?”

“Is it me, Amy. The song.”

She’s quiet for a good ten seconds.

“Yeah. It’s you.”

She sniffles loudly into the phone, unable to stop herself. “Why- Why didn’t she tell me?”

Amy sighs deeply. “Why didn’t you?”

“I- I tried. So many times, Amy, I tried.”

“So did she. In her own way, she tried. I uh- I’m not supposed to tell you, but she wanted to, she was going to do something, after the tour, but she ran into you and Chicago and- well.. I think you know what happened next.”

A fresh tear falls down her face. “She did what?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Where does she live?”

“L.A, you know that.”

She shakes her head, even though she knows her Australian friend can’t see it.

“No, I mean, do you have her address?”

Amy does, of course.

She hangs up and calls her teacher to tell them she won’t be there today. Beca’s address is only a 5 hour and 43-minute drive, she knows. She knows because she’s looked L.A up so many times.

It will be enough time for her to clear her head, figure out what she wants to say, and also.. to break up with Chicago.

Amy arranges most of the stuff while she focuses on her drive. She makes sure to ask what the rest of Beca’s plans are today, which (thankfully) includes her being off of work and hanging out at home, and then she calls her building and makes sure that Chloe can enter by providing her ID and name, this way the doorman won’t have to call up to Beca’s apartment. Thank god for Amy’s connections.

When she finally gets there her heart feels light and heavy at the same time.

Breaking up with Chicago went about as well as any breakup can go. He was a little bit upset about her doing it over the phone instead of in a week, when they’d see each other again. But then he pushes and kept asking why and Chloe finally just told him. He understood. In a way, he said he’d known all along. He knew they were on borrowed time.

He wishes her luck and it makes her smile sadly. He’s a good man, truly. Just not for her.

Beca’s apartment building is huge, and fancy looking. She really is doing amazing, even better than Chloe thought.

Her heart is hammering in her chest. She can’t believe she actually drove here. She can’t believe she’s actually doing this.

It makes her chuckle too. Because in a way, it’s like how it all started.

But instead of it being her shower, it’s her luxurious apartment in L.A. And she’s not planning to just burst through the door, not this time.

Five minutes later she’s standing in front of Beca’s apartment. She’s in her scrubs, still, not having had the chance to change before heading into school, and her hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail. She doesn’t care, not the smallest bit.

She knocks once, and then waits.

“Is that my pizza?” Someone calls out, and it almost makes her smile. She would have, if she weren’t this nervous.

“Uh. Yeah.” She answers, because she just wants Beca to open the door, and saying ‘no’ could make her ask more questions and she doesn’t have time for that.

Not ten seconds later the door is pulled open and there she is.

Beca.

She’s as beautiful as Chloe remembers. Even in her sweatpants with an old Bella shirt on and her own hair in a messy ponytail as well, strands falling down and framing her face.

“You’re not pizza.”

“No.” It’s hard to tell what Beca is feeling, even now that she knows.

“Chloe.” She then finally says, a smile appearing on her face as she exhales deeply. She must have been holding that, the redhead realizes.

“Beca.” Is all she manages to say, and then she pushes forward, wrapping her arms around Beca as tight as she can without actually hurting the other woman. Beca’s hands hang loosely by her side for a second or two before she brings them up and wraps them around Chloe and then they’re embracing in the hallway of Beca’s fancy L.A apartment building.

It lasts about two minutes before Chloe realizes she should probably start explaining. She pulls back, smiling softly as she watches Beca angrily wipe a tear from her cheek, clearly hoping that Chloe didn’t catch it. But she did, and she brings up her hand to wipe away the tears that fall from her other eye.

“Sorry.” The brunette mumbles, and it makes her smile even more.

“Don’t be. I cried the whole car ride here.”

“You uh- you drove?” Beca asks, confused.

Chloe nods in response. “I had to. I heard your song, Becs.”

She starts to ramble then, so fast that Chloe has a hard time catching all of the individual words. “So my manager totally wanted me to write something more personal and focused on my true feelings and I just didn’t know what to do because you know me, I always push and push my feelings away and then I found this song I wrote in the plane to L.A right after the USO tour and I didn’t want to at first but he liked it and I’m sorry for putting it out there like that. I wasn’t sure if you’d make the connection and if you did I didn’t want to mess up your life even more but I just really needed to-“

“Beca.”

“I really needed to tell my story because-“

“Beca, stop.”

She does, finally.

“I love you.”

The brunette’s mouth drops open again and now they’re just staring at each other.

“You uh- you love me?”

Chloe smiles, then nods. “Don’t you know that yet? I’ve been trying to tell you for the last 6 years.”

She frowns and avoids the redhead’s eyes, clearly trying to make sense of it all. “But uh- what about Chicago?”

She half shrugs. “He was what I needed in that moment, I think. He gave me the one thing you never could, certainty. I knew what he felt, for sure, and I knew where we’d be tomorrow, and the next day and I hadn’t had that for a long time. Plus, you were moving on too. There was no room for me in your life.”

“Chloe, there’s always room. You are my life.”

She smiles. “I know that now, I think.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you too, you know? For a long time. I just- I’m not very good at it. I think I was scared too. Still am, a little bit.”

“Even now that you know I love you?” She asks.

Beca nods. “Maybe even more so.”

Chloe frowns, clearly not understanding, and her silence is a sign for Beca that she needs to explain a little more. “It means I have something to lose. I mess things up, in case you didn’t know that yet. I push people away, always.”

“Beca you’re never going to lose me, not again. We did that already. I’m not leaving a second time. And I’m not letting you leave.”

She finally smiles then. A larger smile than Chloe has ever seen from her.

“I love you too.”

She starts to lean in, because really, they’ve waited long enough for this, but Beca puts a hand on her chest, stopping her.

“Wait, uh, one second. What about Chicago, and what happens next? I’m sorry, I know that these are big questions but I need to know. I want to be all in, but I need to know this first.”

She understands. “We broke up. I broke up with him on the way over, but it’s alright. It was inevitable, and we both knew it. He just wants me to be happy. And about our future? Together, that’s what I know for sure. We can do whatever you want. We could drive over to each other on the weekends at first, it’s not that far.”

Beca makes a face at that, which causes her to laugh softly. “Right, so.. there’s also the other option where I could transfer to the vet school in L.A, which wouldn’t be a problem, but uh.. I don’t want to impose or whatever. I know you have your life here and it might be a bit much for me to move in right away, plus-“

Beca doesn’t let her finish her sentence. Instead, she surges forward and connects their lips.

They move slowly against each other for a little bit, just enjoying the moment and enjoying the feeling of the other girls’ lips. That is, until Chloe gets impatient.

She deepens the kiss, her tongue stroking Beca’s lower lip before it’s granted access to the younger woman’s mouth, both of them now moaning. Beca wraps her arms around her neck and Chloe pulls on her waist to press their bodies closer together and she can’t believe how much has changed in just one day.

Beca pulls back a little to bite her lower lip, making her groan and the kiss suddenly becomes heated very quick, very fast.

That is, until someone awkwardly clears their throat and knocks on the still open door next to her. They immediately pull back, Chloe turning around in Beca’s arms to face the pizza delivery guy.

“Uh, pizza?”

“Right.” Beca says, then laughs. She hands him some money (way too much, but who cares) and then apologizes to him as he hands over the pizza.

Chloe only manages to smile sheepishly at him and Beca.

“Sorry about that interruption.” Beca says when they’re alone again. She’s walked further into her apartment now, and Chloe closes the door behind her, hoping nobody else planned to come by tonight.

“It’s fine. We have time now.”

It makes Beca stop and smile at her, apparently just realizing how true this is.

Because for the first time, they have a certainty of tomorrow together, and a week from now, and a month, and hopefully, a lifetime.

“Yeah. We do. Together, right?”

“Together.”