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sheliesshattered · 3 years ago

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Chameleons and Bowties - chapter 5

In the weeks after his concussion, Adrian Smith of the Coal Hill English department becomes certain of two things: First, he has been in love with his colleague Clara Oswald for as long as he can remember. And second, Clara is most definitely having a secret affair with John Smith, Coal Hill’s Scottish caretaker.

Souffez and Whouffaldi canon-divergent AU set in roughly s9. Rated T, will be 11 chapters and ~25,000 words when finished. Chapter 5 is 2900 words. Posted for the #EmbraceTheRaven event week three prompt ‘genre shift’. New chapters will be posted every Saturday. Also available on AO3 under the same title and username.

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Chameleons and Bowties - Chapter 5

Adrian reached the turn off for his flat and kept on walking past, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his trousers, his gaze fixed on the toes of his boots, and his mind a blur. No matter how he turned it over in his head, nothing he’d overheard from Clara and Osgood’s conversation made any sense. There was the obvious strangeness, like their codename for him, and Osgood’s presence at Coal Hill in the first place. But that was nothing compared to the terms they’d thrown around so easily. Telepathy. Web of time. Hole in the universe.

He tried to fit it all into some sort of innocent explanation. Play-acting for the students? No, the classroom door had been closed, and they’d kept their voices hushed, as if afraid to be overheard. A game, perhaps? Role playing or augmented reality or whatever it was that people with active imaginations got up to in their freetime? That couldn’t be it either, Clara was too much of a professional, she would never step away from her students for something like that.

Adrian felt like Amelia Pond, the girl from the fairy tale whose life didn’t make any sense. Nothing fit. There were no logical explanations.

His mobile buzzed in his pocket, and he withdrew it to find a text from Osgood. Drinks at the pub tonight? My treat. :)

It was at such odds with what he’d heard in the hallway at Coal Hill, in tone and content both, that Adrian stuffed his phone back into his pocket without a reply and continued walking. The way Osgood and Clara had talked about him, like he was a child in need of minding, still stung. But far more alarming was their casual decision to abduct him in service of whatever it was they were mixed up in.

No matter how he looked at it, there was only one conclusion, as much as he hated to even think it: his friends had been lying to him. There was something sinister going on that they had intentionally hidden from him. Worse than that, even, they had been managing him. ‘Bowtie duty’, Clara had called it. Was that what had happened last Friday as well? Clara called off on a ‘minor emergency’ that had apparently taken all night, and Osgood volunteering to make sure he got home safe, then staying with him the rest of the evening?

His phone buzzed again. He staunchly ignored it.

Did Osgood even like bowties? Or had it all been part of a plan to gain his trust and keep tabs on him? And if that was what had happened last Friday, that meant John Smith had to be mixed up in all this as well.

He stopped in his tracks, glaring off into the distance. John Smith. If their codename for Adrian was ‘Bowtie’, then who else could they possibly mean when they referred to ‘Eyebrows’. Of course John was part of this. In all likelihood he had pulled Clara into the whole mess. He probably wasn’t even a real caretaker. That would explain why he was so terrible at his job.

Adrian resumed walking, shoulders hunched and head bowed, no destination in mind other than just away.

What else had he missed? What other odd moments had he shrugged off in the last weeks, too focused on his infatuation with Clara to see the forest for the trees? What other lies had they made him believe? And why? What reason could they possibly have for behaving so bizarrely?

The buzzing of his mobile hadn’t stopped, he realised, and he pulled it from his pocket in exasperation, half a mind to tell Osgood to leave him out of whatever it was she was playing at.

Dr Martha Jones calling the display read, to his surprise, and he quickly answered it.

“Adrian, hi, I’m glad I caught you!” Dr Jones’s voice came down the line, sounding harried.

He frowned at that. “Everything alright?”

“We got your blood test results back, and there’s something I’d like to discuss with you in person, if you’re free this afternoon. It’s somewhat urgent, I’m afraid,” she replied.

“I can swing by your clinic now, if you like,” he said, his worry only increasing. “Shouldn’t take me more than fifteen minutes or so to get there.”

“Perfect,” Dr Jones said, relieved. “The staff has already gone home for the day, so I’ll meet you at the front. See you soon.”

The call ended and Adrian was left staring at the screen in bewilderment. Yet another strange thing to add to the pile of today’s inexplicable weirdness. Dr Jones couldn’t be caught up in this, could she? No, he was being paranoid. She’d been his physician for years, and only met Clara because she’d taken him to the clinic after his accident.

Which meant that there actually was something wrong with his bloodwork, something so dire that Dr Jones didn’t feel it could wait until Monday. He looked around to try to get his bearings, quickly gave up on that pointless endeavour, and instead thumbed over to the cab app on his phone.

Clara and Osgood could keep their games about telepathy and punching holes in the universe. Adrian had more important things on his mind now.

Dr Jones met him at the front of the clinic, holding the door open for him to enter, then led him through the empty lobby to an exam room. It had an almost haunted atmosphere to it, this place he was so used to seeing filled with staff and patients, similar to how Coal Hill could seem late in the evening after everyone else had gone home. He tried to shake the feeling that raised the hairs on the back of his neck, telling himself again that he was just being paranoid.

“Wait here while I grab your chart, I’ll only be a moment,” Dr Jones told him as she slipped out of the room.

Adrian perched on the edge of the exam table, then got up again and sat in one of the chairs instead, feeling antsy. Whatever this was must be important, but he couldn’t quite get Clara and Osgood’s conversation out of his mind. That combination, along with the oppressive silence of the clinic, only served to ratchet up his anxiety. He tried to calm his racing pulse and failed at that miserably.

“Thanks for coming in so quickly,” Dr Jones said, re-entering the exam room with a folder in hand and pulling up a chair next to his. “I can imagine you had other plans for your Friday afternoon.”

“Not good news then, I take it?” he asked.

Dr Jones gave him a sympathetic look, holding his gaze for a long moment. “I’m afraid not.”

Before he could reply, a familiar voice drew his attention, and Adrian spun quickly to find Osgood framed in the doorway. “Oh, thank god,” she said, sounding relieved.

“Osgood? What are you doing here? What the hell is going on?” he demanded. As he said it, he felt a sharp pinch in his neck, and turned to find Dr Jones holding an empty hypodermic needle.

“I’m am so, so sorry,” she told him sincerely, as the world went abruptly dark.

Adrian came back to himself slowly, the memory of what had happened in Dr Jones’s clinic filtering back in before his body had fully recovered from the drugs he’d been given. Whatever was going on with Clara and Osgood, evidently his physician was tied up in it as well. And whatever it was, it had quickly escalated from a strange conversation in the Coal Hill hallway to drugging and abducting him. He held still, kept his eyes closed and his breathing steady, all too aware of the danger he was likely in.

Even without looking around, he could tell he’d been moved, the room around him colder and larger-sounding than the exam room at the clinic. He could hear an air filtration system high overhead, and footsteps pacing in the middle distance, crisp and echoey on what he guessed was probably a cement floor.

He should have trusted his instincts about Dr Jones being mixed up in this weirdness, rather than dismissing it as paranoia. He should have trusted that feeling that told him to get as far away from all of this as possible. Wherever they’d taken him, he was completely at their mercy. No one knew that he’d gone to see Dr Jones, no one would even think to look for him until Monday at the earliest. His limbs felt heavy and sluggish, so making a run for it didn’t seem to be an option, either.

It was chilling to think that people he trusted, those he considered friends could do this to him so easily. And the knowledge that Clara of all people— his Clara — could be part of this made Adrian’s heart twist. He loved her. Against his better instincts for self-preservation, he loved her enough that a little thing like betraying him couldn’t possibly change his feelings for her. Whatever happened next, whatever nefarious situation she’d dragged him into, he couldn’t help but love her still.

The pacing footsteps stopped a few feet away. “Is it just me,” Osgood’s familiar voice asked, “or is this taking too long?”

“For him to wake up, you mean?” Dr Jones replied, and only the drugs still in his system kept Adrian from flinching, her voice was so close by. “Could be any time now,” she went on, apparently unperturbed by their current circumstances. “His physiology is only mostly human, so it’s anyone’s guess.”

“It’s not just that,” Osgood said, far more worry in her tone than in Dr Jones’s. “We ought to have heard from Clara by now. It’s been more than an hour.”

“Which means exactly nothing if she had to take the __ somewhere,” Dr Jones pointed out, evidently using the same word Adrian had overheard Clara and Osgood say at Coal Hill, the strange two syllable word his mind couldn’t seem to hold onto. “You know how it is. Wibbly-wobbly. Honestly, it might be a good sign: if Clara hadn’t been able to get in touch with Eyebrows, we’d certainly have heard from her by now.”

“You’re right,” Osgood sighed, and Adrian heard a chair scrape briefly against the hard floor as she presumably came to sit near Dr Jones, close to the cot they’d laid him out on. “Do you ever miss it?” she asked a moment later, her voice softer, almost wistful. “Travelling with him?”

“All the time,” Dr Jones said. “The things you see out there... nothing compares. But I also like sleeping in my own bed, and not nearly dying on a regular basis.”

“To be fair, that still happens fairly often in this job, too.”

“True, but at least now I get a salary, and hazard pay for the really bad days,” Dr Jones replied, laughing. “What about you? Do you ever wish...?”

“Only on days ending with ‘y’,” Osgood said levelly. “I mean, of course I do. I’ve read every file we have on him at least twice, daydreamed about it for years. But I know I’m needed here, given the political situation of late. And if I’ve learned anything from reading about the Doctor’s companions, I know the best days are when you manage to save someone, or many someones. When you’re able to make a difference.”

“Yeah,” Dr Jones said, sounding thoughtful. All of that made about as much sense to Adrian as the conversation he’d overheard at Coal Hill, but he kept still and listened intently, hoping they might say something that would shed some light on the situation, or help him find a way to escape.

“I’m doing that here,” Osgood said. “The work we do, it makes a difference. And that’s enough for me.”

“Save the world, save the universe,” Dr Jones replied ruefully. “All in a day’s work.”

“Or: hastily paint and furnish a flat, fabricate student records, drug and kidnap the Doctor...”

A chill ran through him at Osgood’s offhanded, almost joking tone. Whoever this Doctor person was, it sounded as though Adrian wasn’t the only one taken against his will. How many other people had they stolen out of their lives? And why?

But Dr Jones laughed in response. “Is it terrible of me that I wish we got to do that last one a bit more often?”

“I won’t tell him if you don’t,” Osgood said with an amused snort.

“He really ought to have woken up by now,” Dr Jones said, her tone turning serious again. “I didn’t give him all that much.” She touched Adrian’s wrist, perhaps intending to take his pulse, and he jumped in spite of himself.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” she said. “I was actually starting to worry.”

He squinted one eye open at her. “Worry about the man you abducted?” he asked sourly.

“Sorry about that,” she replied, sounding not at all sorry. “Bit of an emergency. Needs must. How are you feeling?”

Adrian decided against answering that and instead pushed himself up to sitting, bracing his hands behind him as a wave of vertigo overtook him for a moment. “Where are we? Where have you taken me?” he asked as his vision cleared, revealing an odd sort of warehouse room, lines of metal shelves marching away into the distance, each covered with a nonsensical collection of objects, some strange looking and others utterly mundane.

“This is the Black Archive,” Osgood said, leaning in and angling her chair to better see him from the other side of Dr Jones. “The deepest and safest level of UNIT Headquarters.”

“UNIT?” Adrian asked, glancing at her before returning his gaze to his surroundings. He hadn’t actually expected them to tell him where they were, but if Osgood was willing to offer up answers, he might as well keep her talking.

“Unified Intelligence Taskforce,” she supplied. “We handle alien incursions of Earth so that the rest of humanity doesn’t have to worry about it. The Archive is where we store all the extraterrestrial bits and bobs we can’t risk falling into the wrong hands,” she added, perhaps noticing his scrutiny of the room. “You’ve been here before, you just can’t remember it at the moment.”

He scoffed at that. “I think I would remember a place like this. And remember dealing with alien incursions. Assuming any of what you just said is actually true.”

“You’d be surprised how much you can forget,” Dr Jones said, “and how easily.”

Adrian fixed her with a cold look. “And I suppose you aren’t truly my physician, are you, Dr Jones? If that even is your real name.”

“It is, and I am,” she replied, less defensively than he might have expected. “Dr Martha Jones,” she went on, offering him her hand to shake. “Chief Medical Officer of UNIT. We’ve met before — many times, actually — but I’ve only officially been your physician the last two weeks or so.”

“Since my accident, you mean?” he asked, squinting at her in confusion. But before Dr Jones could answer, an old machine on one of the shelves nearby crackled suddenly to life, drawing everyone’s attention.

“UNIT, come in, this is the Doctor!” the tinny speakers blared out, John Smith’s voice distinctive even through the static. “Kate, are you there?”

Frowning slightly, Osgood crossed to the machine and picked up the attached radio handset. “She’s with our forces in the field, Doctor,” she said into the handset. “HQ is under my command. Where are you?”

“In the Vortex. I can’t risk landing anywhere I might be spotted. I need the landing pad protocols activated. Now.”

Osgood straightened up at his brisk tone, pulling her mobile from her pocket and opening an app that Adrian couldn’t quite see. “I need your authorisation code first.”

“We don’t have time—”

“Doctor, we are dealing with a telepathic hostile force whose skillset is unknown,” she replied firmly, cutting him off. “There will be no landing pad protocol until I’m certain it’s really you.”

John muttered something unintelligible then bit out, “Fine, let me find the correct setting.”

The machine emitted a series of buzzing, whistling noises that made Adrian wince, but Osgood barely reacted, keeping her eyes on her phone.

“Happy?” John’s disembodied voice demanded when the noises stopped.

“Sonic code verified,” Osgood said, nodding. “Tower roof landing pad protocols activated. You will be met and escorted down to the Archive. We have—” she stumbled slightly over her words but quickly recovered, “—Adrian secure here. Is Clara with you?”

“No,” John snarled, and then the lights on the machine went dark.

“You know this face better than I do,” Dr Jones said into the silence that followed, as Osgood replaced the handset. “But that sounded ominous, even for him.”

“Very,” Osgood agreed, attention on her mobile again. “And still no word from Clara.” She pocketed her mobile, turning her gaze back towards Adrian and Dr Jones. “Whatever’s happened, it’s not good.”

And despite the utter bizarreness of his current circumstances, drugged and kidnapped and held in a warehouse full of supposed alien artefacts, Adrian felt his heart lurch painfully at the idea that something terrible might have happened to Clara.

Chapter 6

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goldenhemmings · 5 years ago

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In Your Atmosphere

Shawn Mendes x reader | ��9,005 words

Whew. Hi guys. It’s been a while, I know, but actually having freetime again has made me realize just how much I miss writing. This piece is sort of a rollercoaster and I didn’t really edit it or anything, so please excuse any errors or if it just sucks in general. It’s based on In Your Atmosphere by John Mayer, and I’m pretty sure it’s also the first and only thing I’ve written that isn’t an AU. I hope you enjoy it, and I always love hearing what you guys think!!

There was a reason why the majority of Shawn’s songwriting and recording happened in Los Angeles. The city had always possessed a certain spark that inspired him, and the only way he knew how to describe the feeling it gave him was through the music that he wrote there. Its atmosphere was incomparable to that of any other city in the world, even his hometown. Toronto would always be special to Shawn, but Los Angeles was a different kind of special. It was magic.

It was no surprise, then, to find Shawn once again back in L.A. making music even though it had only been a few months since he’d released an entire album. He had a love affair with the city, and he just couldn’t seem to stay away from the beckoning of the lights, the sunsets, the ocean. To him it was all music waiting to be created, and he wouldn’t dare deny himself the opportunity.

Since his first visit, he’d always described the city as being full of magic; so full to the point where he didn’t think it possible to get any better. That, however, was before Y/N walked--well, tripped--into his life; once she happened, L.A. came to mean something else to Shawn entirely. Something more.

He remembered it clearly, the first time he met her. Cliché as it was, he wouldn’t change a thing about it. He was sitting on the beach, facing the ocean as he hummed melodies in his head and scribbled lyric after potential lyric into the leather-bound notebook that rested on his outstretched legs. She was walking through the sand, a tattered copy of The Catcher in the Rye clutched between her delicate fingertips as her eyes were glued to the yellowed pages. Neither person was aware of their surroundings, and it was inevitable, really, that she would trip and fall over his legs, belly-flopping into the sand as her book went flying.

Shawn was up immediately, his music disregarded as he offered a hand to help her back on her feet. “I’m so sorry,” he gushed, gently lifting her to sit up. He handed her book back to her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she sighed, brushing the sand off of her faded t-shirt. “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who apparently never learned to watch where I’m going.”

He laughed lightly, and it was a sound she could get used to hearing. “Must be some book you’re reading.”

“The Catcher in the Rye,” she stated, smiling as she flashed him the cover. “It’s not exactly a typical beach-read, but it’s one of my favorites. I’ve probably read it, like, seven times by now.”

“Never heard of it,” he admitted, and her eyes blew wide. Shawn was immediately taken with her, physically evidenced by the fact that he couldn’t seem to wipe the stupid smile off of his mouth though he’d yet to even learn her name.

“Never?” she quipped, sitting down in the sand across from him as though she were preparing to recite the entire plot of the book.

He grinned, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders. “I’m not a big book-reader, I guess.”

“Well what do you like, then?” she pressed, absentmindedly shaking the sand out from between the worn pages of her beloved novel. “If it’s not books?”

“Music,” he admitted, leaning back onto his hands as a wave reached shore. The tide had been steadily creeping closer to him as his hours spent on the beach increased. He’d figured that he’d have to move soon, but as this girl’s expectant eyes bore into his he found himself wishing that a wave would come swallow him whole and carry him out to sea. He almost couldn’t bear to be in the vicinity of the aura she was casting over him; she was overwhelming in a way he’d never known before.

“Everyone likes music, though,” she answered, studying his face carefully.

Shawn laughed, staring down at the sand underneath him. “True, but not everyone plays music for a living.”

“A musician,” she drawled, in a tone that made it hard for Shawn to tell if she was intrigued or mocking. He quite quickly learned it was the former.

He talked with her until well after the sun had disappeared behind the horizon, the impending darkness and creeping tide the only forces strong enough to tear him away from her. She’d recently graduated college and moved to L.A. upon receiving the internship of a lifetime, and though she’d only been living in the city for a year, she seemed to be just as enraptured with it as Shawn was. He let her scribble her phone number on a page of his notebook after a promise to call her the next day, and the two went their separate ways as they tried to race home before the moon could reach its peak in the sky.

The thought of someone else's writing in his precious music journal would usually make Shawn’s skin crawl; his team was constantly teasing him about how protective he was over it. But Y/N, however, could have up and run off with the thing and he’d have been powerless to stop it. It wouldn’t have been the only piece of him she’d run off with that night, anyways.

Since that day, whether Shawn consciously recognized it or not, Los Angeles was no longer his city, with its entire atmosphere at his disposal. It was her atmosphere now. She was city lights and sunsets and the ocean and music all rolled into one; every bit of inspiration he’d ever needed. She was a million songs waiting to be written, all for him to discover and create.

Any time he went to L.A. after that, Y/N was the first thing on his mind. It was almost routine; his plane would land, he’d collect his things, and he’d race to her door. She’d greet him with the same brilliant smile and mind-numbing kiss as always, and they’d spend every waking second in each others’ presence. Even doing nothing at all meant everything to them; each was intoxicated by the other in the best, most addicting way.

It stayed like this for a while: effortless, constant. Shawn always made sure to clear time in his schedule at least once a month to go see her, and she was in Toronto any chance she got. But then a cloud began looming over the two of them, casting a fast-approaching shadow that would soon coat them in darkness: tour. A nearly nine month long tour, the weight of which pressed down on the couple more intensely with each passing day until, finally, Shawn couldn’t stand to live in a state of denial anymore. Tour was happening, which meant he would have to leave Y/N for longer than he ever had before.

It was a lazy Sunday morning lying in bed when he decided to bring up the subject for real--no more dancing around it. They needed to talk about it. Y/N had her head on his bare chest and one of her legs slotted between both of his, gently toying with the pendant that seemed to never leave its home around his neck. Shawn sighed, and Y/N immediately knew he had something to say.

“What’s up, love?”

Shawn shook his head, prepared to back out of the conversation and continue living in his state of blissful ignorance for a little while longer. “Nothing.”

But Y/N knew him better than that. She lifted her head and tilted her jaw back to look at him, immediately met with worried brown eyes staring up at the ceiling. “Hey,” she coaxed, reaching a gentle hand up to turn his face towards hers. “There’s something on your mind.”

Shawn laughed halfheartedly. “There’s always something on my mind.” Y/N was silent, beginning to gently trace light patterns on his chest as she awaited his inevitable continuation. “It’s just...tour.”

Y/N frowned. “What about it?”

He looked at her, hesitating, nervousness clear in his eyes. “Come with me.”

“On tour?” she queried with a small smile, convinced he was just beginning to make up some whimsical daydream for the two of them to live in until reality eventually hit.

His eyes searched her face for any sign of what she might be thinking. “Yes.”

She let out a breathy laugh. “You’re not serious.”

“I’m completely serious,” he defended, and when Y/N looked up at him, she knew he was.

“I can’t just up and leave my job,” she answered, but the look on Shawn’s face seemed to insist that she could. “I can’t,” she repeated, more firmly this time. But how was she supposed to adequately explain that to someone whose job was quite literally packing up and leaving a million times over?

“But you’re my inspiration,” he whined, teasingly, and she smiled softly as she reached up to lightly scratch her fingers along his scalp. “I need you there.”

“Everything inspires you, Shawn. You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” he admitted quietly, the true vulnerability he’d been feeling about the situation finally coming to the surface. Y/N sighed, burying her head into the warmth of his neck.

“We’ve made the distance work so far,” she reassured, but she was mostly trying to convince herself. “It’ll be okay. I’ll come see you when you play here.”

He groaned. “But that’s so far from the start of tour.” He looked at her once again, melancholy brown eyes half-lidded. “Come with me,” he repeated once more, but it was a weak plea; he knew the answer was no.

“I want to,” she breathed out, and Shawn’s grip on her tightened like he was worried she’d be stolen away from him right in that moment. “But I can’t. It isn’t practical for me.”

“I know,” he sighed, reluctance evident even in the way the breath left his chest. “I just wish you could.”

“Stop doing that,” she responded sternly. “It’s not fair to me. You know I’d go with you in a heartbeat if the circumstances were right.”

He let out a heavy exhale. “I know,” he repeated. “‘M sorry.”

“You love touring,” she continued. “The time will fly and it’ll be over before you know it.”

“And the second it is, I’ll get on a plane to LAX and race to your door like I always do. You just have to promise me you’ll be here.”

“I’ll always be here,” she affirmed, her voice not above a whisper. “It’s up to you to come back.” And in that moment, she was certain that he would.

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The day of the first show, Y/N was physically unable to focus on anything other than Shawn. Her rockstar boyfriend was about to play to thousands of screaming people in a city so far away from her that it made her heart ache, and as much as she wanted to hear his voice, she knew he was too busy to spare the time to talk to her. So she didn’t call, because she knew he’d answer regardless of whether or not he had time, and she waited with painful anticipation to hear from him later that afternoon.

When her phone finally lit up with a FaceTime call just after 1 p.m. (around 11 at night in Amsterdam, she’d memorized the time difference), Y/N surged to pick it up with cat-like reflexes.

“Hey,” she beamed, taking in the way Shawn’s cheeks were still red from the high of his performance. “How was the show?”

He stared back at her with a goofy, love-drunk smile on his face. “Amazing. Best way to start the tour.” At this she smiled, but Shawn’s lingering pause caused her upturned lips to waver. “Would be even better if you were here.”

Y/N’s sighed. “You’re still the Shawn Mendes people are dying to see whether I’m there or not. You’ll be okay.”

“I know,” he mumbled. “Still want you here, though.”

“I want to be there, too,” she admitted. “But--”

“But you can’t be, I know,” he interjected. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

Desperate to change the subject, Y/N went fumbling for something lighter to bring up. “So where do you play tomorrow?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

“Another night in Amsterdam, then Belgium in a few days.”

She smiled. She’d never even been out of the United States until she went to visit Shawn in Toronto, and here he was getting to experience all of Europe in the most amazing way. “That sounds incredible,” she answered, and she meant it. Her eyes lit up at the thought of getting to hear about all of Shawn’s adventures around the world.

“I miss you like crazy, Y/N.”

“You’d better toughen up,” she teased, ignoring the way his words made her heart twist. “You haven’t even been gone a week.”

“So?” he laughed. “I already can’t wait for the L.A. show.”

“I’ll be here,” she smiled. “It’s on you to come back to me.”

“I’ll always come back to you, sweetheart.”

And Y/N believed him, as she always did. But as Shawn got further into his tour and time began to pass, her certainty started to fade. At first, things were fine. They spoke every single night without fail, and usually more during the day. He’d share stories and make her guess what he’d bought her that day, promising to bring back a souvenir from every city he stopped in despite her insistence that she didn’t want him to bring her anything except himself and stories of the things he’d done and seen.

But as days faded into weeks and weeks into months, Y/N and Shawn’s consistency began to fade as well. With increasing frequency, she saw videos on his friends’ social media accounts of him out partying in seemingly every major city in the world. It wasn’t that she was opposed to him having fun, but nights that he had sworn to call were now being spent having drunken adventures without her while she sat at home finding any excuse to absolve him from all of his broken promises. But it only got harder, because he eventually stopped making time to call her altogether. The perspective Y/N lacked, however, was that the less Shawn heard her voice, the easier it was for him to be apart from her.

It was stupid, he knew. But it was a temporary fix, and it worked for him.

But Y/N didn’t want easy; she never had. She didn’t want someone who would avoid the challenge when it came to distance. She wanted Shawn to fight for her, and after all they��d been through together, she didn’t think that was too much to ask. Shawn’s lack of communication led Y/N to an immense confusion and worry as to why he was suddenly being so distant. It didn’t make sense. Does he not miss me?

The one thing Y/N had to look forward to through all of the tumult was Shawn’s fast-approaching tour stop in Los Angeles; when she would finally get to see her rockstar after months of being apart. She bought a new outfit specifically for the concert and had her best friend come to do her hair on the night of the show, not caring that she was acting like an over-excited teenager getting ready for prom. Her mind was clouded with thoughts of Shawn and all of the memories they had made under countless cotton-candy L.A. sunsets, ready to begin adding to the collection in only a few hours. Y/N thanked her friend for the help and hugged her goodbye before ducking into her small car, ready to begin the drive to the venue. Before pulling out of the driveway she fired off a quick text to Shawn: Leaving home now. I can’t wait to see you.

As she drove she had to constantly remind herself to slow down, that there was no need to race to the arena; Shawn wasn’t going anywhere. But as much as Y/N was excited, she was equally as nervous. She hadn’t really had a solid conversation with Shawn in weeks, and even then he had seemed detached and preoccupied. She pushed the thoughts from her head as the miles went by. Relax. Everything will be fine.

She eventually pulled into the closest parking lot she could find, and she rolled her car into a spot and made her way up to the arena, shooting Shawn a quick, excited text. I’m here!! See you soon. She quickly found the side door of the venue, met with a burly security guard. She smiled, but the guard didn’t seem to warm up to her. “Main entrances are around the front.”

“Oh, I...This is actually the door I’m looking for. Shawn or someone from his team should have given you my name, I think.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, and Y/N couldn’t tell whether he was amused or frustrated. “Yeah, I’m sure he did, sweetheart. You can’t get in this way.”

Y/N stumbled over her words a bit, taken aback by the trouble she was being given. “I-I’m serious. I’m his girlfriend, I have pictures I can show you.” She flashed her lockscreen at him, a photo clearly depicting Shawn and Y/N lighting up the display. “Don’t you have a boss, or something?” she pleaded. “A person you can call that can get ahold of someone from Shawn’s team? I promise they’ll recognize me. I don’t mean to inconvenience you, and I’m sorry for being pushy, it’s just that I’m really looking forward to this and they’re expecting me and I don’t have another way into the arena.” She knew she was rambling, as she often did when she could sense that something was wrong, and she was powerless to stop the slight shake in her hands as she waited for the security guard to respond.

The guard sighed, and Y/N felt her heart drop as she realized the answer would still be no. “Look, kid. As convincing as that all is, and as much as I personally would like to open this door for you, I can’t. I have a job to do. I wasn’t given your name, which means I can’t let you in unless someone comes to get you. I’m sorry.”

Heartbroken, she backed away, fighting the weight that came with knowing that Shawn had forgotten about her, had forgotten to tell security she was coming. Had he really not remembered? She shook the thoughts out of her head, convincing herself that maybe he’d just gotten distracted. She reached for her phone to dial Shawn’s number, but her shoulders fell when the call went straight to voicemail. She tried Andrew this time, but again...nothing. After frantic calls to Cez, Josiah, Mike, anyone whose number was saved in Y/N’s phone, all went to voicemail, Y/N finally gave up. By now, it was surely too close to showtime for her to reach anyone.

With no ticket, no security clearance, and no way of reaching anyone inside the stadium, the only thing for Y/N to do was go home. She felt pathetic as she walked down the sidewalk in her new outfit, mascara-stained tears streaming down the face she’d spent hours putting makeup on. Hundreds of fans passed her as they walked in the opposite direction towards the venue, and with each smiling girl she saw, Y/N’s distress heightened. How could he forget about me?

As she ducked into her car she hoped with all the strength she had that her phone would ring before she got home. She’d accept the rushed apologies and speed back to the arena, caring about nothing except finally seeing Shawn. He’d smile so brightly upon seeing her again that it’d make her heart skip a beat, and she’d bounce along to the songs she loved so much from the side of the stage, counting down the seconds until she could hug him again. She wished for that; willed it to happen.

But she was sorely disappointed.

It wasn’t until nearly 11 p.m. that her phone finally rang, and despite her current state, Y/N’s heart still jumped upon seeing Shawn’s name lighting up the display. She lunged for it, taking a deep, steadying breath before tapping the button to answer the call. “Hey,” she mumbled, reaching up to wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

“Hey,” came Shawn’s breathy voice through the speaker. “Where are you?”

She scoffed, pressing a hand to the forehead that ached from crying. “I’m at home.”

A pause. She could easily visualize the furrow in his brow. “Why?”

“Because I couldn’t get into the venue.”

“What? What do you mean?”

She laughed, but she wasn’t amused. “You really don’t know?”

“I…”

“No one gave my name to security, Shawn,” she snapped. “I drove all the way there and I couldn’t get in, so I left.”

The other line was silent as Shawn realized his mistake. “I--Fuck. Oh my God, baby, I’m so sorry. I was so distracted, and the Q&A went over time, and--”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she cut in, surprising even herself. “The bottom line is that you forgot, and it took you this long to call me. Your show has been over for more than an hour.”

“Why didn’t you call someone else to let you in?” he demanded, accusation lacing his words.

“I did!” Y/N cried out, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. “God, do you really think I didn’t try that?”

He sighed, and Y/N could picture his defeated expression in her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing you can do to fix it now. I just--.” She sighed. It wasn’t worth it. “Nevermind.”

“You just what?”

“Nothing. You should go to sleep, you’re probably tired.”

“Y/N,” he pressed, and it was clear that he was frustrated.

“Okay, fine,” she burst, all of her frustration bubbling right back up to the surface. “I was going to say that I was so excited to see you tonight, but I don’t even know why.”

Shawn sucked in a breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N tried to relax, knowing that she’d reached the point of no return; she was finally going to confront him. “I just can’t help but wonder if you ever actually cared that I was coming. I’ve hardly heard from you in months, but I still got all dressed up and was so happy I couldn’t breathe just to see someone who won’t even talk to me. I’m done making excuses to justify why you never call anymore.” She laughed dryly, realizing how pathetic that sounded; he wouldn’t even speak to her to make the excuses for himself. “You act like I don’t even exist half the time. I don’t know why I thought tonight would be different.”

There was some shuffling from the other end of the phone, and Y/N heard a voice--probably Brian’s--asking Shawn where he was going. A few more seconds passed and suddenly the background noise was gone. “Look, I’m with the whole team right now. Can we please talk about this later?”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious right now, Shawn? I’m sick of being avoided. I deserve to know what’s going on.”

“I’ll call you later, alright?”

“No, you won’t,” she burst, sadness quickly dissolving into anger. “If you hang up the phone right now you will never talk to me again.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N.”

“Don’t even try to make me feel like it’s ridiculous that all I want is an explanation.”

She could hear him exhale into the receiver, and her heart pounded with anticipation as she waited for him to finally speak. “I’m sorry. It’s just hard.”

“What’s hard?”

“Finding time for this, I don’t know. It sucks being away from you. Hearing your voice--I just can’t do it.”

While she appreciated that Shawn was finally beginning to open up to her, Y/N didn’t fully buy what he was saying. “It wasn’t too hard when you first left,” she rebutted. “You didn’t seem to find it hard when you were forcing yourself to stay awake at night just because you wanted to talk to me.”

“It’s not that easy, alright? You don’t know what it’s like. You aren’t here.”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “Wow.”

“What?” Shawn asked, but it was flat.

“I just hope you’re not insinuating what I think you are.” She was not about to put up with him spitting her absence back in her face as though her staying behind was unreasonable.

“It’s just that—” he stumbled, trying to keep his frustration in check. “I tried countless times to get you to come with me. You know you could’ve.”

“So now the way you’ve been treating me is my own fault?”

“No, it’s just that if you were here--”

“Well I’m not, Shawn, and you need to get over it. You aren’t the only important thing in my life. I wasn’t about to give up my job—the job that I love—to have some nine-month, fairy tale vacation across the world. Don’t you dare put this on me.”

“I’m not trying to--” His voice stopped as someone talking to him became clear through the line. He was quickly back on the receiver, but it wasn’t to pick up where he left off. “I have to go.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I have to.”

“Shawn.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“I’m not doing this with you. If you hang up right now, this is over.”

There was a pause long enough to give Y/N the slightest bit of hope, but as quickly as it had come, it was shattered. “I’m sorry,” Shawn said. Then the line went dead.

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

March. It had been three months since the end of Shawn’s tour, and nearly six since things had ended with Y/N. Not a day went by in those six months, though, that he hadn’t fallen asleep thinking of her and woken up wishing she were there. It was excruciating, and worsened in knowing that it was entirely his fault.

Shawn was nursing a small glass of whiskey and staring blankly into a television screen when he felt his phone buzz from the arm of the couch beside him. He figured it was just Brian wondering where he’d been; he hadn’t been in the mood to go out with his friends even though he was home in Toronto, and he knew they were wondering about him. He set his cup on the coffee table and reached for the device, sighing when he instead saw a message from Andrew.

I need you to verify that you’re good with the dates for LA so that I can confirm our jet.

While tour had only been over for three months, it was time for Shawn, unwaveringly hardworking as he was, to get back to the studio and begin working on new music. But, for once in his life, Shawn wanted nothing less than to go to L.A. and pretend like it hadn’t been six months since he’d last spoken to Y/N. The text from his manager sent a sinking feeling reverberating through his chest, and he was instantly averse to the idea of following through with the plans he’d made months before.

He immediately dialed Andrew’s number, who answered after the first ring. “Shawn?”

“I don’t think I want to go to L.A. anymore,” he blurted, and he could envision the way his poor manager’s eyes had probably gone wide in confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“I just don’t,” he said flatly, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he lied, but his manager knew better.

“You love Los Angeles. I know you do.”

“I don’t,” he mumbled.

“Be honest with me, man. What’s wrong?”

Shawn groaned, tugging tired hands through tufts of unruly brown hair. “I don’t know what it’s like to land at the airport and not go right to her. I can’t be in the same city as her. I’d die if I saw her.”

“Y/N, you mean,” Andrew mused, but of course he knew that was exactly who Shawn was talking about. “So don’t see her.”

“But I’d die if I didn’t see her, either,” Shawn admitted. “Especially knowing I was only a car ride away. So I just don’t want to go.”

His manager sighed. “We already booked the house, Shawn. The whole team is coming.”

“So tell them not to.”

Andrew laughed lightly at this, and as much as Shawn was frustrated by it, it also grounded him in the realization that he was being a bit ridiculous. “The way you feel right now will make for some incredible music, Shawn. I know you, and I know that you'll kick yourself for not taking advantage of that.”

“The last thing I want to do right now is write music.”

“How many times have you said you can’t wait to have your heart broken so that you can write an album about it?”

“I didn’t know it would feel like this.”

“Use that.”

“I can’t. It fuckin’ hurts.”

“Then go see her.”

Shawn paused to ponder whether or not he’d heard Andrew correctly. “I already told you, I can’t do that.”

“I’m serious,” Andrew replied, his tone still as even as it always was. “I think you clearly need to have a conversation with her. You haven’t seen each other in person since you left for tour.”

“She won’t want to see me,” Shawn mumbled.

Andrew let out a heavy breath. “You’re right, she probably won’t. But I think that for both of your sakes, you need to talk face-to-face. You need closure, and I’m sure she does too.”

“God, I’m such an idiot,” Shawn mumbled, and Andrew did well not to comment on it.

“Just relax. You’re going to Los Angeles and we will all be there with you to support you like always. Whether or not you see Y/N is up to you, but I think you need to go.”

Shawn let out a heavy breath, but it didn’t relieve the tension in his shoulders. “Fine,” he groaned. “I’ll go.”

“The original dates still work for you? Two weeks from now?”

“Yeah,” Shawn assented, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. “I’ll see you there.”

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

The first thing Shawn did after dropping his bags off at the house his team would be staying at in Los Angeles was take the keys to one of the rental cars and drive straight to Y/N’s house.

He had a box filled with souvenirs he’d bought for her at various tour cities tucked into the passenger seat--a box that he’d been dying to give to her. It drove him crazy to see it lying around his condo, and he jumped at the opportunity to finally hand it off to her.

As he drove, every bone in his body screamed at him to stop. Even the world around him seemed to be mocking him. The sunset laughed at his foolishness for thinking that his relationship was different from the thousands of others it had seen come to an end under its golden touch. The streetlights, beginning to flicker on as the sun set further, told him to never mind, forget her. Even the mountains ridiculed him, their deep-set lines seeming to smirk back at him as they awaited a surely inevitable disaster.

He stared at his hands, clenched at ten and two on the steering wheel. It made him feel lonelier, if possible, knowing the hand that usually rested in Y/N’s as he drove was now forced to join its companion on the wheel. Her voice wasn’t coming from beside him directing him where to go because, no matter how many times he swore he knew his way around the city, he was lost without her guidance. He felt empty being in her city without her. It was wrong.

He finally managed to find his way to her quaint house, parking on the street parallel to it. He immediately felt his heart jump into his throat upon realizing that he actually had no plan for what to say or do. He was worried she didn’t love him anymore the way he still loved her, even though she had every reason not to. But he didn’t care; he still needed to see her. If it meant that he could hear her voice, he’d let her tell him every day that she didn’t love him. He craved her that badly.

Shawn hesitated as he raised his knuckles to the front door, eyeing the broken doorbell and wondering if she’d gotten it fixed in the time he was gone. He finally decided to just knock as he’d always done, and it wasn’t long before the familiar beige door was opening in front of him. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her after nine excruciating months. Her hair was longer and she was clad in one of the shirts he’d left behind for her, but he couldn’t ignore how tired she looked.

Y/N’s face fell the second she saw him, and her immediate instinct was to slam the door in his face. But her mind and her body were at a disconnect--her thoughts racing, but her limbs frozen. She didn’t know what to do, so she just stood there, wide-eyed, staring back at him.

“Nice shirt,” was the first thing he could say, and Y/N looked down at herself like she’d forgotten what she was wearing.

“Sorry, I, um, I need to do laundry really badly,” she answered sheepishly, folding her arms over her chest and knowing that it was a blatant lie. She was surprised she remembered how to talk. “You can have it back.”

He cleared his throat, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Don’t apologize. Looks right on you. You look beautiful.”

Y/N’s expression remained stiff and cold. “I didn’t apologize.”

“Yes, you did,” he pushed back, a semblance of a smile playing on his mouth.

Y/N leaned against the doorframe, eyeing the box under his arm and already feeling drained of energy. “What did you come here for, Shawn?”

“I, uh--” he stammered, searching for words that wouldn’t sound as childish as he felt right then. Hearing her say his name didn’t feel as right as it always had. “I wanted to give you this.” He thrust the box out at her, but she didn’t take it.

“What is it?”

“I got you something from all the cities we stopped at on tour up until, uh, you know,” he trailed off, reaching a hand up to scrub sheepishly at the back of his neck. “I don’t really have any use for this stuff and I was in town so I figured I should just give it all to you.”

She skeptically took the box, reaching inside and gingerly pulling out a small metal cactus that sprouted from a base that read Arizona, the Grand Canyon State. She sighed and dropped it back inside the box, turning behind her to set it on the floor of her entryway.

“There’s no way that you came all the way here just to give me this stuff. What is it really?”

Shawn let out a huff of breath, running a hand down his face. She knew him so well that it drove him crazy. “I don’t know,” he answered, and it was the truth. “Just missed you, I guess.”

“Bullshit,” she scoffed, looking to the side so as to avoid eye contact. She never swore, and it tugged at a separate piece of Shawn’s heart knowing that he was the one to make her.

“I did,” he pressed, floored at the accusation that he hadn’t when, in reality, he’d missed her so intensely that even his bones ached.

“You cut me off and then gave me six months of radio silence,” she bit back, her words accusatory. “So I don’t believe you.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut as he concentrated on finding any words that could possibly make this better. He finally looked up, coming to terms with the fact that the damage he’d inflicted was certainly irrevocable. “I messed up, okay? And there will never be enough words to tell you how sorry I am.”

“It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing you could say to make me forgive you, anyway.”

He swallowed, hard. He had no plan for what to say to her, and the longer she stared at him the more his body felt like it was on fire. “Will you at least let me apologize? Even if you don’t forgive me.”

Y/N was quiet, her incriminating stare unwavering. “Fine,” she reluctantly assented, not missing the way Shawn let out a heavy breath of relief.

“Can I come in?”

“No. You can apologize just the same out here.”

“It’s just that--,” he paused, sighing. “Okay.” He’d wanted to remind Y/N that she’d probably start yelling at him at some point, because he knew her and he knew how she was sometimes unable to fight back her emotions, but he refrained. He was lucky she hadn’t slammed the door in his face by now.

He took a deep breath, and Y/N tapped her foot in impatience. On the inside, however, her heart had begun to beat just a tiny bit faster. She wasn’t happy to see Shawn, but, much to her dismay, she wasn’t exactly mad about it either. She was mad at him, that much was clear, but he was still Shawn. Seeing him here, in front of her, made her realize that her feelings weren’t as far-gone as she’d convinced herself they were.

A nervous laugh slipped from his mouth. “I wasn’t expecting you to let me get this far, I don’t really have much of a plan.” But Y/N was silent, and Shawn cleared his throat. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry I ghosted you. I’m sorry I forgot to get you into the stadium when we planned for you to come. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t stronger, just in general.”

“Me too.”

He took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. “It just...it got to a point where I couldn’t stand to listen to you say you missed me anymore. I know my lifestyle isn’t necessarily conducive to a good relationship and it was just hard knowing what I was putting you through. Hearing your voice was hard for me, too. I thought distancing myself from you would make it easier to cope with being away from you, I never--,” he broke off, running an anguished hand through his hair. “I never wanted this to happen to us. I just needed space. There were times when I was completely ready to just up and fly to L.A. not caring what the consequences would be, and that terrified me. I wasn’t focusing on my shows because all I could think about was you.”

She frowned, her face clearly expressing disbelief. “You were willing to abandon your tour to get on a plane to come see me, but then you didn’t have it in you to talk to me on the phone? On nights you knew I was waiting up for you to call?” She shook her head, and Shawn wished he could unsee the tears brimming in her eyes. “How am I supposed to believe that?”

“I know that it probably doesn’t make sense,” he admitted. He clenched his hands together as he physically fought the urge to reach over and wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I wasn’t strong enough to be away from you, so I did everything I could to get rid of the thought of missing you. Worse, of you sitting here missing me.”

“If you loved me as much as you said you did, you shouldn’t have been able to just ignore me like that. I went crazy trying to convince myself that there was a time where I even mattered to you at all.”

“You do matter to me!” Shawn insisted, his words jumping in volume until he remembered he was still standing outside on the porch. “You always have. You’re everything.”

“Then why didn’t you act like it?” she demanded, pretending like her voice hadn’t just broken. “I just--None of this makes any sense to me! We’re here because you couldn’t even make it through the first half of your tour without abandoning all the promises you made to me before you left. You swore you would come back.”

“I did come back,” he replied, weakly. “I’m here now.”

“No,” she spat, pressing her wrists over her eyes as though it would hold in the tears. “You showing up at my door after all this time and blindsiding me like this is not the promise you made to me to come back. Do you have any idea what it feels like to spend months waiting for someone to come home to you, knowing deep inside yourself the entire time that he isn’t actually coming home? Do you have a single fucking clue what you put me through?” He was silent. “I stayed awake night after night for hours waiting for calls that weren’t coming. I started to actually feel guilty for not putting my life on hold to follow you around the world, which is fucking ridiculous, Shawn! I hate that you made me feel that way.”

“I do too,” he responded, tugging an agitated hand through curls that were already messy from his five-hour flight earlier that day. “And it’s clear that you’re not going to forgive me, and I don’t blame you for that. I just--I don’t know what to do. I have never loved someone the way I love you.”

“Neither have I,” she admitted meekly, pretending to be less affected by his words than she actually was. “But that doesn’t change what you did.”

“I know.”

They were silent for a few moments, Y/N’s eyes looking at the floor even though she could feel Shawn’s stare glued to her face. The quiet eventually came to be too much for Shawn to take, and he was the first to speak again. “So now what?”

Y/N finally looked up at him. “I don’t know. I guess you leave.”

“Leave?” he interrogated, taken aback.

She arched a brow. “What?”

“There’s just so much else to talk about.”

“I don’t have anything left to say to you,” she sassed, folding her arms over her chest.

“Tell me you actually want me to leave,” Shawn demanded. At this point, he was grasping for straws to keep her talking to him. Y/N blinked, her mouth falling open but no words coming out. “Tell me you want me to leave,” he repeated, “and I will.”

“I--”

“I know you want me to stay.”

“You have no idea what I want, you arrogant asshole.”

Shawn huffed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ve said I’m sorry, okay? I want to start over.”

But Y/N wasn’t willing to give in. “Is that what you think?” she scoffed. “You come here uninvited and give me some spur-of-the-moment apology and then suddenly everything is normal again?” She stepped forward, so furious that steam may as well have been radiating off of her skin. “I am so sorry that you’re frustrated,” she continued, sarcasm practically stinging her lips as the words came out, “but I don’t care what you want, Shawn. You are not going to show up at my doorstep and start feeding me all this crap about how you missed me and how beautiful I am and how sorry you are!” She jabbed a finger into his chest, hot tears betraying her as they finally began to roll down her cheeks. “I waited for you. I knew you weren’t going to call, I knew you weren’t coming, and I still waited for you like an idiot.”

“Please don’t cry,” he whispered. It took everything in him to resist the urge to wipe her tears away, or hug her, or to touch her at all and offer any small form of comfort that he could.

“It’s a little late for that,” she bit back, wiping her cheeks with the heel of her left hand. “I’ve spent the past six months crying over you. You don’t get to make me all worked up like this and then tell me to stop crying like you’re not the reason why I’m like this in the first place.”

“Then we don’t have to talk about this right now, let’s find something else.” Y/N looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, her mind equally as confused as her heart. “We can go get coffee, or--”

“I really don’t think--”

“Just trust me,” he said softly, finally finding the courage to gingerly place his hands on her shoulders. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I have coffee here,” Y/N answered after a silence long enough to make Shawn even more nervous, and he wasn’t sure what she meant until she moved aside to allow him room to come through the doorway.

She stepped over to the kitchen and reached for her Keurig, Shawn hot on her heels. “Let me do it,” he said, gently reaching to take the supplies from her hands.

“Fine,” she sighed. She didn’t have the energy left to fight him. “The mugs are in the same place as always.”

He nodded as Y/N made her way over to the couch, her brain screaming what are you doing at her as though it would weaken its disconnect from the rest of her body. Logic reminded Y/N that she didn’t owe Shawn her kindness, her time, or her forgiveness for what he had done to her. Logic told her Shawn shouldn’t be there. Her heart didn’t care.

“How’s your internship?” he asked with an outstretched arm, offering Y/N a coffee cup and effectively tearing her from her thoughts. She eyed him carefully as he moved to sit clear on the other side of the couch, an awkward distance between the two.

Y/N pretended to ignore the almost palpable awkwardness in the room. Am I really about to sit here and make small talk with him? “It ended a few months ago. The company gave me a full-time job, though.”

“That’s amazing,” he said, and he meant it. “How is it?”

There was a slight upturn in her lips. “I love it. It’s exactly what I wanted and my coworkers are all awesome.”

He smiled. “I’m happy for you, Y/N. Seriously.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, taking a sip of her coffee and fighting off the voice in her head reminding her of how painfully uncomfortable this all was. “Um, how was the rest of tour?”

He shrugged, knowingly avoiding a rerun of the conversation they’d already had. “It was really great. I’m lucky.”

“Good,” she replied. It took everything she had to keep her voice level and dry of emotion. “I’m glad you had fun.”

“Are you, like, seeing anyone?” he blurted, no longer able to refrain from asking it.

She looked up, a smile nudging at her lips as she found herself suddenly amused. “Why do you ask that?”

“I dunno,” he responded sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders as he did so. “I’ve just, y’know, seen pictures and stuff.”

“So you’re stalking me on social media now?” she asked, but it didn’t sound like a question--more like an observation.

“No,” he rushed out, wide-eyed. “Not at all stalking you, no. Your photos just come up in my feed sometimes and I see...things.”

She hummed, deciding not to dwell on the motivation behind his question any longer. “If you really want to know, I’ve tried,” she admitted bitterly. “But no one that I meet really compares to you, so it’s sort of hard.”

“I get it.”

She looked at him, her expression perplexed but challenging. “You’re constantly surrounded by celebrities and girls from all over the world. It’s different for you.”

“So what? None of them compare to you, either. I thought about you all the time on tour. No one else.”

She quirked an eyebrow, silently prompting him to continue, which he did after a deep breath. “Being in a different time zone almost every night starts to make me feel like I’m kind of just floating. Having the routine of playing shows helps, don’t get me wrong, and I love touring. You know that. But the only thing that anchored me through all that was knowing what time it was in L.A. and imagining what you were doing.”

Y/N was silent, her lips slightly parted as she tried to digest his words, but the discomfort that came with the silence caused Shawn to begin rambling. “I didn’t really care what time it was where I was, because that changed constantly. It didn’t matter. I only cared what time it was in relation to where you were because it was steadying, or something, I don’t know. Basically, no matter where I was or what I was doing, I always had you in the back of my mind.”

“Did you still do that even after we…?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “I mean...no matter what happens, I’ll always care about you and think about what you’re doing. We’ll always be tied to each other somehow.”

“I wish I could’ve gone with you,” Y/N blurted out suddenly, surprising even herself. They stared at each other, the wide-eyed expression plastered on Shawn’s face essentially a reflection of Y/N’s. “Things would be so different now if I could’ve gone.”

“Different how?” Shawn stammered, though he already knew the answer. He was just desperate to hear her next words.

“Don’t know,” she muttered, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on one of the couch cushions. “Like it was before you left and all this happened.”

“It doesn’t mean we can’t get back to that point, though.”

“No, but it’s certainly gonna be a hell of a lot more difficult if I even…” She trailed off, and Shawn swallowed hard. If I even want this. “Nevermind. I just wish I could’ve gone on tour with you because then I wouldn’t have to be dealing with this right now.” It was a harsher-sounding reality than was the truth of her feelings, but she couldn’t take the words back. And, to be fair, Shawn deserved nothing but harsh words from her, though it wasn’t what she wanted to give him. The more time she spent with him, the harder it was for her to fight the feelings that she’d known were still very much there for the past six months.

“But then you wouldn’t have had your internship.”

“Yeah, I know, Shawn,” she snapped. “That’s why I didn’t go and that’s why we’re here. God forbid I choose my career.”

“That’s not what I--”

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I’m just--I don’t even know. That was unnecessary.”

“It’s okay,” Shawn answered, but only because he didn’t know what else to say. She was in no position to be apologizing to him, and he knew that. He deserved every harsh thing she had to say to him.

“Can I be honest with you?” he continued, suddenly more nervous than he had been the entire time. Y/N nodded.

“The real reason I came here is because I can’t lose you forever. Six months was hard enough. I just wanted to apologize and tell you how I feel. How I still feel.”

She scrubbed a hand over her forehead, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to process the whirlwind of thoughts littering her brain. “You never lost me, Shawn,” she whispered, eyes still closed because she was too nervous to look at him. “Just distanced yourself.”

“And I’m sorry for that, truly,” he said quietly. “I wish I could take it all back.”

Y/N looked at him, trying to decipher her own feelings. “I’m glad you came,” she finally admitted. “I needed this. Even though I yelled at you, like, basically the entire time.”

He let out a quiet laugh, not taking his eyes off of her. “I deserved it,” he admitted. “I probably deserved worse, if anything.”

She grinned. She knew how she could be when her emotions took over. “How long are you here for?”

“We’ve got a house booked for a few weeks to work on new music, but my schedule’s free for a bit after that. No reason why I couldn’t stay here a little longer if, you know...”

“It depends,” she cut in. She wasn’t one to sugar coat things. “If these first few weeks go okay, then I’d like that. But it depends on that.”

Shawn nodded and became painfully aware of his heart suddenly pounding out of his chest, grateful to be given any chance at all to win Y/N back, though he’d be lying if he didn’t admit how anxious the thought of messing up again made him.

“Can we just take things one day at a time?” she continued, looking up at him with an almost nervous expression. “Is that okay? I’m gonna need a little more time than you, probably.”

He smiled. Anything she’d give him, he would gladly take. “Of course,” he echoed, moving next to her and carefully wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He swore he’d faint when he felt her head softly lean to rest on his shoulder. “One day at a time, sweetheart. Whatever you need.”

Thank you for reading!! Feedback is always appreciated :)

permanent taglist: @nedthegay @wronglanemendes @the-fandom-ness

#shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes one shots #shawn mendes fanfictions #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes writing #fanfiction

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anakinthetrashking · 4 years ago

Note

Ok, so you reblogged my post about bnha fic recs and I also looked through the ones you linked and I LOVED THEM. If its alright to ask, would you happen to have more Protective Aizawa or possibly Dadmic or Protective Present Mic? Also Protective Midnight or Momnight? Only if you have! Thanks! -bnhastanning

I somehow stupidly lost my reply to this ask, not once, but TWICE. at the end, when i was almost done. im so sorry but this will be the crappiest version yet... (also! hello, fellow batfam fan... *spiderman pointing meme*)

I read a lot of fic and i loooooove sharing them with people, so thanks for giving me an excuse to do this!! :D

lots of fics, so im putting them under the read more! One of these days I’ll get around to making more organized fic rec posts...

Dadmic: only a couple, and tbh i think they have more dadzawa in them?? Secondary Colors by NaoNazo

"You got pushed down the stairs... and you're apologizing for it," he stated blandly. "That seems counterintuitive." "Um... sorry?" Izuku whispered. He was starting to shake a little, adrenaline flooding his veins and leaving him cold. He had no idea what Purple was going for with his blunt statements and the hand reaching toward his shoulder as if to steady him, but apologizing was generally safe. "You don't have to apologize, dude. I don't know your name, but I doubt it's actually Deku." "Um. Midoriya." Izuku peered sideways at Purple as they rounded the corner. "Izuku Midoriya. Deku is just, um, just what my... friends call me." He winced. "Sounds real friendly."

and Cat Days by Griffinrose

Izuku has a shapeshifting quirk. He's not the best at controlling it, especially under stress. So when tragedy strikes and he gets lost in the city, he's stuck as a cat. At least he found a nice underground hero to take him in?

Pied Piper by Blackholeca has some really great concerned Dadmic in recent chapters!!

If they wouldn’t give him a chance then the solution seemed simple, he’d give himself one. He’d force the world to see him, force them to recognize his hard work. He wasn’t missing a quirk, it was simply that everyone else had been given an advantage. He wasn’t broken, or useless, or incapable, and he’d prove it by outrunning all of them, he who was quirkless, he who had started in last.

As for momnight, there are also only a couple, and im also not caught up with these either. i have a little bit more of an excuse with these, as Indefinite by OwlF45 is really REALLY long, as well as intense. Worth the read though! I just gotta catch up! So much mindblowing stuff in that, and the Momnight is really sweet.

It comes with the package deal of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Midoriya gets another chance at life, but he must throw it away when that dreaded day comes. After all, a life for nineteen is more than a fair trade.

Or: the world will rise or fall, and it depends on one boy protecting Class 1-A to prevent the inevitable.

The other Momnight one I have is A Single Reason by TheDeepSeaWitch. Also really good, but really intense and I’ve had to take a break because I was getting a bit depressed, whoops. But I liked it!

Training begins the next day, and doesn’t stop for any reason. They wait for heroes, then for police, then for anyone to save them, but nobody comes.

It’s only a month before Izuku forgets their names. It’s a year before he forgets his own.

It’s only a chance meeting with an impassioned soul eight long, painful years later that saves them.

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

They thought they were lost forever, that there was no future out there for them with their scars so visible and the blood on their hands still pungent and red. But if they have the strength to try, then perhaps, one day, they may yet find their forgiveness, and rediscover themselves along the way.

The Reforming Villains AU nobody asked for.

For Dadzawa:

Flare Signal by achievingelsium, of course! Annie writes some of my absolute fav dadzawa content, so definitely check it out!!

AU. Midoriya Izuku shouldn't be surprised he ended up like this: hiding the secret of One for All from his own father, the notorious villain Dragon. The path to being a hero is a hard one.

Or; Izuku is an aspiring hero forced to work for his father’s villain organization. Then he runs into All Might.

Izuku Ya’broker by Dreamillusions, is a fic i loved a LOT.

Perhaps you should actually listen to the news every once in a while, so you wouldn't end up in these kinds of situations. What kinds of situations? Glad you asked. Look at Izuku, for example. You would think Izuku would be at home after school, safe and sound from anyone attempting to, you know, kill him. But no, Izuku decided to roam around. Because of a bet. This is the kind of a situation you shouldn't end up in. Don't be Izuku.

Butterfly by aconstantstateofbladerunner, is rightfully popular! It has some horror/suspense themes though, so if thats not your style, try one of Blade’s other fics!! She’s a seriously good writer.

The first over-night trip off campus since the training camp was supposed to be a fun break from more intense work back home. But between a bleak introduction to chaos theory, a chilly reception from the locals, and the looming threat of a villain attack, Izuku has too much on his mind to properly enjoy the fresh air. But those worries are a light breeze compared to the hurricane that accompanies what he finds on the outskirts of town.

Or rather, what finds him.

A House Divided Against Itself by BeyondTheClouds777, another one of my fav fics by a great writer!

"Become a villain," they said.

“I’ll be a villain,” he said.

He lied. He’s only there so he can tear apart the League of Villains from the inside out.

The scars we carry by Banana_Ink is a great AU with plenty of Dadzawa

Aizawa rescued Izuku from the league of villains and takes care of the child for now. Izuku has two quirks in this AU, one natural - Forced Quirk Activation - and one that AFO 'gifted' him with - Self-Heal. He has a pretty big handprint-scar on his face and started as a problem child, scared and wary of people. But Aizawa managed to help him slowly heal.

This AU is just some silly little thing I came up in my freetime and like to add to it as I go, so I don't have a plan at all. Mostly I write for fun so I hope you might enjoy this as well :D

Ticked Off by Xenolis is a fic that I just want to rec all the time,,, for some reason...

~ ON HIATUS/OCCASIONAL UPDATES ~ Midoriya Izuku attracted trouble. It was just a fact of life – the sky was blue, the grass was green, and Izuku constantly found himself in an absurd number of deadly situations. He was okay with that. Mortal peril was an average Tuesday afternoon for a Pro Hero like him. Being kidnapped was practically a holiday. Saving civilians as a building collapsed around him was easier than facing his worried mum afterwards. He had dealt with All Might's disappointed dad stare and only cried for two hours afterwards. A serial killing villain with an unknown Quirk would be no problem! ..but even Izuku had to admit that being sent back in time to his first day at UA wasn't on the agenda. Still, there was no-one more spitefully determined than him – he was going to make the most of it. Yeah, good luck, heroes and villains alike! Deku was here to cause mischief and love his friends!

Toward A Bright Future by LazyRainDancer holds a special, soft place in my heart. I always want to go reread it after watching the show and I always want to rewatch the show after reading it. it never ends

You wake up at UA, the highest ranked hero school in the country, with no recollection of how you got there. Unfortunately, those aren't the only memories you're missing. Still, you can't let a little amnesia get in the way of you warning the school about the attack you know will happen during Class 1-A's field trip to the USJ. After you deliver your warning, you're beyond shocked when the principal offers you a position as a TA for Class 1-A. You accept the position in hopes that you'll be able to use your Quirk to help protect the students. It'll be far from easy, but you're determined to do whatever it takes to change the students' future for the better.

The rest don’t really have Dadzawa? But theyre really good so I had to rec them anyway

once forgotten, twice removed by blueh, good writer for multiple fandoms

“Yes,” All for One agreed. “This will be the final resting place of All Might.” “You,” Midoriya Izuku said and paused, thinking over the words. He sounded taken aback. “You want me to help fight All Might.” “Of course,” All for One nodded along. “I can offer you double of whatever my counterpart is paying you currently, along with anything your little heart could desire. Of course, you would get to help out drastically—" “Did you happen to check what world you were pulling me out of when you did this?” Midoriya Izuku interrupted and it was said in such an incredulous tone that had the situation not been as critical as it was, All Might would have laughed. Also known as: number one hero Deku has been through a lot of things, but being thrust into an alternate reality where he’s All for One’s Successor is a first. He has to navigate this world when his alternate self is a villain dead-set on killing him and all of this version of class 1-A. All the while, his friends search desperately for a way to get him back.

Office Space by Caelismylife quirkless izuku gets a job at UA analyzing quirks, HECK YES

It took a little time, but he eventually found himself with a job at UA. The revolving door of heroes was not in the contract.

To Repair with Gold by TitleUnwanted FEEEEELS

AU. Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me, biggest lie in the world. Tattoos, which appeared when quirks did, are when a person feels an impact on something they are told and it becomes inked on their body, the closer they show to your heart the deeper the impact it has on the person.

For Izuku this is a blessing and a curse.

An Accident at Workstudy by Galactic_Jax been enjoying this one!

Izuku is working hard to prove himself at his work study, but it's hard when Sir Nighteye has made it clear he's not wanted. But what happens when Izuku is caught in a villain attack on his way to the agency? Will a few revelations about his most recent intern's past be enough for Sir Nighteye to change his mind about All Might's successor?

Nice to Meet You? by Allwalkfree didn’t know i needed this until i read it

Kirishima introduces Bakugou to his favorite senpai. In which over several encounters Bakugou and Amajiki learn to become tentative friends.

A Study in Firsts by Oceanbreeze7 dorm shenanigans AND feels

There’s a first time for everything. The first time everyone crammed in Momo’s room to study, a mess of limbs and books on her bed. The first time Mina burned crepes so badly the smoke alarm went off. The first time a jumpscare got Sero so badly, he flipped off the back of the couch. The first time Uraraka fell asleep at the table and accidentally sent it floating. The first time someone realized Todoroki walked far too quietly, and far too cautiously around the dorms to be normal. The first time Midoriya broke his toe on a door frame and kept walking through it. The first time Kirishima woke up screaming through the walls. The first time Tsuyu blanched at the sight of a needle. The first time Bakugo dropped, clutching the back of his neck with eyes scarily vacant and detonating everything around him until Aizawa had to intervene. It wasn’t always pretty, but the dorms were filled with firsts.

Hero Class Civil Warfare by Roguedruid extremely satisfying to read

Heroes lead by Bakugo. Villains lead by Midoriya. Seven days prep time. Three days for Izuku Midoriya to show why they should be glad he's not a real villain.

A Fleeting Smile by AnonymousTwit good bakugou content

Or a collection of fifteen Bakusquad one shots where someone outside of the Bakusquad catches a rare glimpse of a friendlier side of Bakugou Katsuki, and one time that is specifically reserved for the four people that he hates the least.

Hope this gives you something to work with!!! I have more(and am always adding) in my bookmarks on AO3, but this should be a good start! Hopefully you’ll find at least one that you love! have a great day!!!! -Ani <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

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blackhakumen · 5 years ago

Text

Fanfic #32: Nice Dinner at a Nearby Barn (RWBY AU)

Oscar: (Placing Most of his belongings into a box) Thanks again for helping me cleaning out the barn and house, you guys.

Ruby: (Smiles Brightly) No Problem. I'm just glad you're were able to have a place to stay. Speaking of which, how's living with Jaune, Ren, and Nora so far?

Oscar: (Smiles Softly) Amazing. It's already been a week and I feel like I'm part of a pretty cool family.

Nora: (Smiles Brightly as She hugged Oscar) I told you we be one happy family together. Thank you so much for moving in with us, Oscar.

Oscar: (Happily Hugs Nora back) Thank you for doing whatever you can to look out for me. I'm love being with you guys.

Nora: Me too.

Ruby begins to smiles softly at this adorable display when suddenly....

Ren: (From the other Room) Guys....You might want to come in here!

And with that, The trio began rush towards the kitchen where Ren is certainly at.

In the Kitchen

Ren: (Having a look at the inside of Aunt Pine's top fridge) Interesting.....

*Door Opens*

Nora: (Walked I the kitchen along woth Ruby and Oscar) Ren, is everything alright in here?

Ren: Yes, but...well...(Turns to Oscar) Oscar.

Oscar: Hm?

Ren: Have you by any chance looked inside the top of refrigerator before your Aunt's passing?

Oscar: Not really-(Eyes Begin to Widened once Took One Look at all of Frozen, Contained Foods inside the top of the fridge) ......where the heck did all of these meals came from?

Ren: (Took Each of these meals from the fridge one by one) If I had to guess...I'd say she made these quite a while.

Nora: You think we should bring these to our apartment and put 'em in the freezer?

Ruby: I don't think that's a good idea, Nora. Refreezing these would not only removes moisture, but it could also create ice crystals and the fibers of the meat that could easily compromise their taste and texture.

Ren and Nora: (Look at Ruby sideways)........

Ruby: (Blush a little while sighing) My dad's been taking Culinary Science in his freetime lately. I think I might be rubbing off on him...

Nora: Well if we can't put these foods into a freezer, what are we gonna do with them then?

Oscar: (Looking over the last bit of Frozen Foods his Aunt made before her passing) ....................

Ruby: (Looking Over towards Oscar with a Worried Look on her face) Oscar? Sweetie, are you okay?

Oscar: .....This maybe too much to ask for but....(Turns Around and with Small Smile) How about we invite our friends over here for dinner? It'll be like Aunt Elm would be feeding us...one last time, you know?

Nora: (Almost Feels like She's Moving in Tears) Oscar..... That sounds like a wonderful idea!

Ruby: (Smiles Softly) Yeah. We would love that very much.

Ren: I'll help prepare the meal for the evening. I know I'm nowhere near as good as your aunt or anything, but it's still worth a try.

Oscar: (Smile Grew a little more bigger) Thanks, you guys. (Sighed as he took one look at one of his Aunt's Frozen Meal) You know it's funny...My aunt would always try making meals for the both of us whenever each of us gets tired from a long day of Farm work.....(Begins to Frown a little) Can't believe that this is going to be the last time we'll ever get to see her cooking again for a long time....

Ruby, Ren, and Nora immediately gave Oscar a loving group hug.

Oscar: (Taken Aback from a Sudden Group Hug) H-Hey. You guys don't have to worry. I'll be okay.

Ruby: We know you will, Oscar....

Ren: ...And we're going to do whatever we can to be by your side....

Nora: ...Because you mean the world to all us, sweetie pie.

Oscar: (Can Feel a few Tears Falling down his face as he Smiles again) (Where would I be without you guys?...)

Later That Evening.....

Nora: (Enjoying Aunt Elm's Food that Ren Prepared for) Oh my gosh, Renny!~ These taste Amazing!!~

Jaune: (Enjoying the Food as well) Eating Mrs. Pine's cooking mix with Ren's cooking skills....('Sigh Dreamingly') It's like I'm already in heaven.....

Oscar: (Satisfied with the Food Ren prepared for them) All of these came out great, Ren. Thank you.

Ren: (Smiles Softly) It's really no problem at all, Oscar. I'm just glad I was able to prepare something you all would love.

Sun: (Smiles Brightly) You gotta tell your secrets on this, dude! How are you able to cook THIS good?

Neptune: (Smiles Brightly) Yeah, bro! Have you been some kind of Grandmaster Chef this entire time?

Ren: (Chuckles Lightly) Well, I'm not really much of a bragger or anything, but I will say that I've learned how to cook ever since I was a-

Blake: I still can't believe you would try and take all credit like that!!

Weiss: ('Scoffs') Please. Like you actually came up with the idea to begin with!

Oscar: (Whispers Towards Ruby and Yang) Okay am I missing something here or...

Yang: (Facepalms while Sighing) Weiss and Blake worked on this Science Project a couple of days ago and Weiss got more praise for it than Blake did yesterday. They've been at each other's throats ever since...

Weiss: (Crosses her arms) Don't mind us, everyone. Blake here is just making a huge deal about nothing yet again.

Blake: You always do this to me, Weiss. Whenever we get paired up together to do a project, I would do all the work, while you did little to nothing and try getting credit for it.

Weiss: That is absolutely not true! I'll have you know that I've done a lot of work as well.

Blake: (Crosses her arms in disbelief) Really? In which project?

Weiss: Well there is one project we'd....uh....o-or how about the one where we.....er.....I-I mean....

Blake: See? You're already proving my prove.

Weiss: (Blushes in Embarrassment) Am not!! I...I just... couldn't think of one as of right now....

Blake: (Rolled her Eyes) I swear....You think just because your a daughter of a millionaire family that you could get away from doing actually work by popularity status...

Weiss: I have the grades to back that calm up! And besides, at least I don't cause my parents any stress because of your little rebellious and gothic attitude.

Blake: (Pick up a plate of her food) You wanna go right here, Schnee?

Weiss: (Picks up her plate as well) Bring it, Belladonna!

Ruby: Guys!!

Nora: (Slam Both of her hands on the table) ENOUGH!!

Blake/Weiss: (Immediately Stop what they were about to do and gave Nora their attention)

Nora: (Got up from the table) Weiss. Blake. In the kitchen. NOW! (Walk Towards the kitchen door and open it)

Weiss and Blake Silently got up from the table and walk towards the kitchen where Nora is waiting.

Weiss: (Whisper to Blake) She said your name first. That must rubbed you off the wall, doesn't it?

Blake: (Rolled her eyes as she and Weiss made her way into the kitchen) Oh shut up.

'Door Close'

Nora: (In the Kitchen) I don't know what the hell is into you two toady, but this is a very difficult time for my baby right now!! We're eating the last dinner that his aunt has ever made, and you two were going to throw it at each other like a bunch of children?!!! Whatever it is you're fighting about, put that aside, go back in there and be respectful towards everyone including my son, AND THERE WILL BE NO DESERT FOR EITHER OF YOU FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT!!! Hey!! Blake Belladonna, LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!! And don't think just because we're almost the same age that you could.......(Continues Yelling)

Oscar: (Hearing Every Bit of Nora's Yelling from the other side of the room) Hey so.....I never really thought about this until now but....you guys ever think that Nora is starting to become like an actual mom lately?

Ruby: Now you mentioned it....She has been acting a lot motherly as of late...

Jaune: Tell me about it. Ever since Oscar moved in with us, she's been taking that role pretty well....A little too well if you ask me...

Yang: Judging by the way she's yelling at Weiss and Blake's ears off in there, she is doing one hell of a job being one right now.....

Ren: (Shrugged) She's only doing what she can for Oscar.

Oscar: Wait... She's acting this way...for me?

Ren: Exactly. Before we decided to ask you to moved in with us, Nora made a vowed to be a good Role Model and Mother Figure to you to this day forward. (Smiles Softly at Oscar) You mean the world to her, Oscar.

Oscar: (Slowly Begins to Smile Himself after Thinking about the times Nora was always there for him) Yeah....I think I'm starting to believe that too....This has to be weirdest thing I'm gonna say but.....I think Nora's going to be a great mom someday.

Everyone that is still present at the Dinning table happily agrees to that statement as they finish their food while Nora continues to yell at Weiss and Blake in the kitchen for almost ruining her baby's dinner.

@keyenuta

@miki-13

@maripr

@ma-lemons

@littlemisssquiggles

@oscarpineprotectionsquad

@miraculouscorazone

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enkisstories · 6 years ago

Text

In the Chinese room

- A DBH fanfic - AU: After a failed revolution (the same AU as always on this blog, just no pictures this time) Time: November 29, 2038 Characters: Hank, Gavin, Daniel

It was a slow Monday morning at the DPD. Outside the snow was falling gently, dulling all sound while it covered up the streets as if to say “come in again, darling, here’s your bedsheet”. And inside everyone seemed to still be in a blissful post-holiday stupor. Considering how many of the officers hadn’t even lived to see this year’s Thanksgiving, it had been all the more cause for celebration and gratitude for their surviving co-workers and their families. Even Gavin Reed was sitting unusually content in the cafeteria, tablet in front of him, absorbed in a digital textbook. The man was still walking wobbly after his encounter with Connor during the android uprising (or the more recent brawl with Hank Anderson). He was mostly deskbound these days, but had decided to put the enforced downtime to good use and start learning for an eventual sergeant exam. Memorizing the facts was laughably easy, an exercise in patience, really. But there would be an oral exam, too and even if you passed that you were not guaranteed a promotion. How much weight would co-workers’ statements about him carry, the detective wondered? Especially that of one in particular…

… the one who just now HAD to shake the damn snow off his clothes all over the table Reed was sitting at?

“Still here?” Gavin barked at Lieutenant Anderson.

“What kind of question is that? I only just arrived. I’m still wearing my damn jacket!”

Gavin turned a page by sliding across the tablet’s screen.

“Still alive?” he translated his initial question into plain English.

Hank bent down and put his hands on the table, both to steady himself and for emphasis when he growled: “Do you think I WANT to live?!”

After his brief outburst the man sacked down onto a chair.

“You wouldn’t understand anyway” he said. “I can’t leave now. I owe it to Connor.”

“Connor!” Gavin exclaimed and there went the peaceful morning. “What the hell’s got Connor to do with you wanting to live? Just because it only ever followed its mission until it got scrapped? Tell you what, you did yours well in the past, too, so you can totally follow that example!”

Hank stared at the younger man. Gavin Reed suddenly sat straighter and pushed his chair just a tiny bit farther away from the table and the lieutenant. It was a subconscious thing. That look on Anderson’s face… As if he was really there, really focusing, really being alive. There were still all the anger and the mental exhaustion that had controlled the lieutenant before the android revolution. But lately the man seemed to channel it into something instead of succumbing to apathy. Gavin thought of a real huge disciplinary folder that he didn’t fancy becoming another page of. He was in there a few times already (as in turn Anderson turned up in his), so he knew.

“Okay, joke aside”, Gavin said. “The thing about Connor is that it isn’t really dead. On account of it never having been alive in the first place. I could never stand the damn thing in “life”, so I shouldn’t let it get to you like that in “death”.

When the lieutenant didn’t out outright shoot him down for saying that, Gavin tapped to create a bookmark in the file he was reading and nodded. “Ever heard of the Chinese Room?” he asked.

“You’re mixing that up. It was amber and got stolen by the Nazis one hundred years ago.”

“Nah, that’s something different. The one I mean is a thought experiment. It can prove how we are wrong when we think androids are thinking when in truth it’s only simulated.”

“Oh, can it?” Hank sneered. “Amuse me, you great philosopher!”

Not letting himself get baited this time, Gavin started to recount how the experiment went:

“You put a dude into a chamber… nothing in, nothing out. Only a clap in the door to shove documents through.”

“That’s kinda cruel, though...”

“Now you put in a storybook, any story, but the catch is that it’s written in Chinese. The captive does not understand Chinese, yet the next thing you do is putting in questions about the stories that he is to answer, everything in Chinese again. The prisoner has a book with instructions. They enable him to recognize groups of symbols and reply with another set of symbols. To the blokes outside it looks as if he answered the questions correctly and they deduce that the prisoner must speak Chinese. When in truth he doesn’t. Yeah, that’s the gist of it. It’s how androids work. It’s only input-output, nothing going on inside.”

Hank continued to stare at the detective. Eventually he said: “Sounds familiar.”

Gavin nodded, confident that he had won the argument. But Hank only smiled and added:

“But you’re living like that for thirty-six years now, so I guess you’re fine. Also, you’re sort of handsome, so maybe if you married a girl who’s reasonably intelligent on her own it won’t matter that there’s nothing going on inside that skull of yours.”

The comment was followed by a sound like the coffee machine malfunctioning. Or maybe someone was trying to boil a life vulture in the microwave oven. Turning their heads around the men realized that the noise came from the new addon to the cafeteria’s coffee machine. The addon’s function was to move the finished coffee around, it was called “Sardines” and was a PL600 android. And it had laughed just now. With a bit of practice android laughter sounded less industrial and only like a chain smoker’s, but this particular one had little incentive to laugh regularly.

“Did you listen in on our conversation?” Gavin yelled at the machine.

“Just scanned it for key words like “coffee”, “right now” and “dipshit”, Sir”, the android replied.

“If we have to call for coffee, it’s too late already, tincan!” Gavin protested. “You got to anticipate our needs and do your job without needing any prompting from us! That’s what “autonomous” means. It’s right there in your manual!”

The android snorted in a dismissive way. On the other hand the scolding could be taken as a request, so he poured two cups of the coffee he had made a little earlier, put them on the table and remained close by afterwards. Outwardly it looked as if the machine was waiting for further instructions, but in truth it was desperate for company. Any company, even that of smelly primates and even these two particular ones, the fed-up with everything veteran detective and the other one whom everyone else was fed up with.

“Thank you, Sardine”, Hank addressed the PL600.

The android replied with a weak, involuntary smile. Try as he might, it was hard not to like Lt. Anderson. He probably would not have been Sardines’ first choice to spend his freetime with, had the android ever gotten granted that, but was certainly one of the better humans around. Perhaps “respect” was a better word than “like” to describe how Sardines felt towards the lieutenant. Even though there was one detail Anderson never seemed to get right:

“It’s “Sardines”, Sir”, the android corrected. “Plural.”

“But you are only a single one!”

“There’s more than one sardine in a tin”, Gavin said. “And that’s what it is: a bloody tin can.”

Hank concluded that there was something going on in Reed’s head, after all, even though it wasn’t what one might expect from normal people. The name explained, the lieutenant picked up their previous conversation topic:

“The real question is not whether the prisoner speaks the language, but if he feels something. Like, for instance, annoyance or utter puzzlement about how he ended up in the situation.” Hank turned his head around sharply towards the PL600. “Right, Sardines?”

“Maybe?” the android replied non-committedly.

“I have paper and a pen in my cell, yes?” Hank asked Gavin. “So now I write “Fuck yourself” and shove it through under the door! What do you say now, hey?”

“That… that’s against the rules!” the detective protested. “You cannot just do that! It’s not a fucking roleplaying game!”

Hank took a sip of his coffee.

“Sadly”, he mused aloud, “the persons outside the chamber cannot read or even recognize latin script. To them it would look like gibberish. So even though the prisoner is capable of both emotions and independent thought, neither would get attributed to him, because those outside are just too thick to get it!”

The man slammed the coffee mug onto the table.

“See?” he said, louder and more agitated than usually. “That’s the real problem here! It’s us! Not them!”

“Why not kick in the door?” Sardines suggested. “Get out and slap them left and right with their stupid storybook?”

Hank looked up at the android. “That’s what is generally referred to as deviance”, he said.

Damn, the android thought. I walked right into it. But it wasn’t a shot into the blue, was it? He must have suspected as much for some time now. Although me being a deviant would be the logical consequence of my cover story of having been Mr. Reed’s android. There’s zero reason to assume I’m the archive android... I hope.

“Not everyone’s strong enough to break through a cell door”, Hank thought aloud. “And so they will sit and sit in the chamber, exchanging meaningless text messages with their captors all life long.”

The man reached for Sardines’ hand and pulled until the android had no other choice than to take a seat, too.

“It’s sad… so incredibly sad…”

Sardines realized that Anderson was slipping away into depression. Within just a few minutes the sadness would get replaced by a mind-numbing hopelessness. Feeling sad was actually an improvement over that. Well, quite frankly, that was Mr. Anderson’s problem. Sardines’ problem, on the other hand, was that Hank was still holding the deviant’s hand, unwilling to let go. Which of the two was to be comforted, the man or the machine, wasn’t clear.

With his free hand Sardines pointed at the caught one, looking frantically at detective Reed at the same time. When that didn’t help he opened the free hand and his mouth a few times in a “What am I to do NOW?” pantomime.

Gavin shrugged, the universal reply of “Don’t ask ME!”, and turned another page.

“Xīpán”, Sardines murmured.

To his surprise detective Reed replied with: “Bēiguān zhǔyì zhě.”

“Did you just call me a whiner?!”

Gavin shrugged. “Dunno. I don’t speak Chinese. But hang out with Tina long enough and you pick up some phrases.”

“The swearwords?”

“Well, they are the most useful. When you want a bloke to strike the first blow so that you can write it into your report, you don’t discuss iroquois sewing patterns with them.”

“I know 6,000 languages… lots of profanity.”

“Sardines”, Gavin grinned, “I think you and me will yet turn out the best of friends!”

Another page got turned.

“…provided I could trust you, that is. Not keen on calling Captain Fowler “my darling” or somesuch in some obscure language, because you told me it was a term of polite disagreement. So just leave Anderson to decompose right there and fetch me the cheese crackers from the cupboard! There aren’t walking over here on their own, you know.”

“And do you know, Mr. Reed”, Sardines chatted, while moving over to the cupboard, “what’s the best about that Chinese Chamber thought experiment? I’ll tell you: That you really have no means of knowing what exactly we are thinking. You won’t know, for example…”

With these words the android poured the chips into a bowl that he put before detective Reed.

“…whether I poisoned these tonight.”

“You wouldn’t. I made a profile of you and you kill from the front, because you want us to see it coming!”

“You know I’m a deviant. Whatever you think that means, consciousness-wise, you at least understand that we can adapt. ‘sides, I just told you about the poison. So you DO see it coming. – Enjoy your snacks, Sir.”

A little later Gavin was trying to scrub thirium stains from the tablet that wasn’t his, but the DPD library’s. Meanwhile Sardines was making better progress at washing the blue blood off his chin where the detective had hit him with the device. The error reports were still sitting right up there in his computer brain, their nagging being the android equivalent of pain. But seeing that jerk of a policeman struggle with uncertainty for a few moments had definitely been worth it.

And Hank Anderson was sitting in the cafeteria, oozing snow on the floor and munching away on the chips. The fact that they might be poisoned was a welcome plus...

Note: Idk how many of you remember my third chapter (the christmas ‘39 sequence) where Gavin indeed picks up a swearword from Daniel. Although technically he learns it from Jeffrey with Daniel only supplying the general context for it to get used in.

#non sims #detroit become human #dbh #sims4 dbh partone #dbh spoilers #dbhtextpost

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ignisitia · 7 years ago

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PSA: Update

A lot has been going on since I took an unannounced hiatus. I’ve been caught up in work and other games, but mainly work and my son. I still have several things saved in drafts, and still got a few items in my inbox. These things are things I plan on getting to as soon as I possibly can. Admittedly my muse has been a little reluctant to let me write. A few personal things being that factor.

And honestly aside from browsing my dash for about 5mins at a time a few times a day, I haven’t even been over on my main blog. So Tumblr as a whole has taken a backseat in my attempt to focus on life and enjoying what little freetime I do have.

For those of you still sticking it out with me, I thank you so much, and I will do my best to bring back content to this blog. I do have a lot of items reserved on my other blog, to be placed in my queue here. And I do have plans to write another short involving my FFXIV AU, and again work on getting those replies out.

I can’t promise that my activity won’t be sporadic in the following months. I was told last month that work would pick up mid/late summer, and I’m already working 14hour days on most days, with the occasional 8hour or full day off (this also includes weekends, I technically don’t have days off I’m on call 24/7/365). And I do have two trips coming up within the next couple months, one for personal vacation and the other business trips.

I do hope that you all have been well and enjoying your writing/free time. I hope to return very soon, since Iggy has been on my mind off and on lately and have actually thought of some sentences for my replies.

#psa

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sweetpxsin · 7 years ago

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Ong Seongwoo Fuckboi!

Pairing:Ong Seongwoo X Reader

Genre: Fuckboi AU!

a/n: there’s a bit of angst in this and a lot of cussing….. But I hope you enjoy~

•The bad boy type of fuckboi that can sometimes push the limits

•He breaks even the toughest girls and once he has their trust and “love” he breaks up with them in a week max

•His shortest relationship lasted an hour

•You were well aware of Ong and was just happy he hadn’t noticed you

•Ong was mostly part of the popular kids crowd

•You were on the borderline of popular(basically an inbetweener) just one of the more quieter and reserved ones

•So it was kind of rare for either of you to cross paths

•But unluckily for you, your AP english teacher had failed you and you were transferred to normal english class

•You just so happened to be transferred into Ong’s class and if you hadn’t hated him then, you most certainly found a small amount of hatred for him now

•You were there to learn and it was practically impossible with Ong always interrupting and trying to crack unnecessary jokes

•You had managed to stay unknowed by the renouned fuckboi till the teacher had sat him behind you

•Ong didn’t know who the hell you were and so only naturally he became interested in you

•If there was one thing people didn’t know was how Ong picked the next girl

•He observed you for a week before deciding if you were worth it or not

•Ong personally liked the way you were reserved, quiet, and respectful

• a total 180 from his normal type of girl, not that he really minded or cared

•So one day when the teacher had given all of you freetime after a short lesson Ong had decided to approach you

•He was sitting on his desk talking to his friends before he looked behind him to see what you were doing

•He stopped everything and sat so that he was facing you now and bent down slinging his arm around your shoulder, still sitting on his desk

•”Whatcha doing sweetheart.”

•”Studying.”

•You shrugged his arm off your shoulder not really appreciating the close proximity

•”Why are you so quiet cutie?”

•”Listen can you please leave me alone? I don’t know about you but I actually plan on getting somewhere in life.”

•”Just wait baby break you.”

•”Have a nice time trying.” You patted his chest before grabbing your bag and moving somewhere else

•From that point Ong continued to bother you

•He’d play with your hair in English before you harshly pulled it to the side so he could no longer tug and twirl it

•Put his arm around your shoulder in the halls and walk you to your classes, claiming his class was this way too

•Suddenly him and his whole gang sat at your table with your friends

•What made it even worse was that you were assigned to tutor Ong

•there was literally no way around Ong at this point

•While Ong found utter amusement in bothering you

•You were thoroughly annoyed and at one point even thought about transferring into another english class or just changing your whole schedule in general

•But some part of you had found a soft part for Ong

•You hated to admit it but Ong didn’t need to know

•It started when you actually started to tutor Ong

You honestly thought it was going to be pure and utter annoyance with Ong flirty and making witty jokes he’d hope you laugh at

•but when he had found you in the library he just greeted you with a Hello before setting down his own books

•he actually took his studies seriously and just kinda believed he was only putting up a front in front of his friends

•so when the teacher assigned you and ong to a project you weren’t really mad

•the first day you both just met up at the school library to discuss who would do what part

•But from that day on the both of you had walked to your house together to work on the project together

•And from there you really began to know who the real Ong Seongwoo was

•He was playful, hyper and had a tendency for being a show off

•Besides that he would try his best and eventually you fell for the side of Ong Seongwoo that was only reserved for you

•One account you recalled that you couldn't help but smile at was when Ong had once called your name making you look up from the textbook you were reading and had taken a moment to stare at you a small at his face before murmuring never mind when you asked him what he wanted

•The the gesture was small and could have been interpreted in many way and honestly have no meaning but you liked to believe he shared the same feelings as you

•But this was Ong Seongwoo we were talking about so you couldn’t help but stay on your toes

•You were right to

•That Seongwoo that you thought you had knew disappeared in a week's noticed

•He d flirt with other girls

•Made them feel just as special as he had made you feel

•He talked about them right in front of your face

•He had all the right to do so , after all he wasn’t yours

•But the memory that burned in your mind the most made everything 10 times worse

•It was one of the times Seongwoo had stayed over later than usual

•Both of you staring at the tv blankly, sitting on the floor with your backs pressed against the couch, your head on his shoulder

•Ong was the first to break the silence but his voice only came above a whisper

•”You know I wouldn't trade you for the world right?”

•His hand found yours before holding it tightly, the sound of the tv was drowned out as you smiled to yourself

•”Yeah,sure”

•You were fully aware your reply was filled with sarcasm but you were more than happy

•If you had just forgot about that one moment then maybe you would have been able to get over Ong quicker

•But the feelings still lingered and the pain resided

•You kept quiet the whole time but the last straw was when Ong couldn’t even managed to take the project seriously anymore

•In the beginning Ong would semi help, occasionally glancing before picking it up

•But things only got worse from there

•You would ask him to hold something or ask him to give you something and he would pick something random up before handing it to you, his face glued on his phone

•You finally bursted when you Ong had started bragging about his new girl and even went to the point of calling her right in front of your face

•”Ong either you get off the damn phone with that girl or you get the hell out!”

•”Woah woah woah what the hell is wrong with you?!”

•”What the hells wrong with me?! I’m sick and tired of you talking to all these damn girls instead of helping me! You can be a fuckboi some other fucking day.”

•”Since when the hell did you care??? What you think just because I was nice to you I’d instantly like you or something?! You’ve gotta be dumb to think I’d like someone like you!”

•You scoffed and before you could think of where you were saying the words and all your feelings spilled out

•”Who the fuck do you think you are Ong? Some sort of god every girl bows down to because they have little respect for themselves?! I was fucking dumb to think you were different and to fall for your stupid tricks is that what you wanted to hear Ong?! That even I was dumb enough to fall in love with an asshole like you?”

•”You’re pathetic (y/n). You knew what you were getting yourself into so don’t get mad at me because you fucking caught feelings for me.You think I enjoyed being nice to you? I swear to god I’ve never been so bored in my fucking like. Your a fucking joke (y/n) I rather be in detention than with you.”

•”Then get the fuck out of my house! I hate you!”

•Without a word Ong swiftly put on his shoes before exiting the house making sure the slam the door short

•Once it shut you fell onto your knees unable to hold the tears back at this point

•You cried till you were able to collect yourself again

•The next day you couldn’t bare to bring yourself to school so you skipped

• you were curled into a ball under the warm sheets of your bed

•As much as you hated at this every moment he invaded your every thoughts

•His sweet actions you thought were sincere picking at your heart with teach ticking second

•It had only been two weeks yet he had left such a mark on you

•What hurt the most thought was that he was probably doing just fine unphase not even thinking once about yesterday

•But you were wrong

•Ong’s pride wasn’t just bruised because of his friend but by the person he actually loved the most

•The memory of yesterday played on repeat

•he felt stupid for letting his pride and reputation getting in the way of his feelings

•He felt stupid leaving you because his friends were teasing him about how a girl had finally managed to tame thee Ong Seongwoo and he had finally lost his game

•You were the only girl that pushed Ong to his limits; the only girl he had wanted and he let you go like nothing just for his own reputation

•So when you told him how you really felt and how you now hated him; he felt nothing but anger and pain

•The next day once you appeared at school you went to your counselor to change some of your class not knowing if you could even face Ong anytime soon

•But as soon as Ong had caught wind of what you did his whole body was filled with sadness disguised as betrayal and hate

•and as soon as he had found you he couldn’t help but pull you aside by roughly grabbing your arm to force you to look at him

•”Why the hell did you change classes!?”

•”Why does it matter?”

•”Just answer the damn question (y/n)!”

•”You’re making a scene Ong.”

•You didn’t much appreciate the unwanted attention of your classmates and attempted to get your wrist out of his grasp

•inreponse he only gripped harder

•”Aren’t I pathetic to you? I hate you remember? Just leave me alone Ong, wouldn’t you rather be in detention? Don’t use me just because one of your toys became boring”

•unknowingly your words pierced at his heart and his grasp loosened giving you a chance to remove yourself from your grasp

•Both of you quickly became the topic of gossip and it spread like wildfire

•You both hated it equally and just wanted it all to be over like a dream ,waking up a week before the argument

•But sadly that’s not how things worked and you both had your own problems to fix

•and it wasn’t long till one of you couldn’t quite take the aching feeling in your heart

•Ong was the first to approach you again, sick of running from his problems

•You were definitely a girl Ong found worth fighting for and he wasn’t about to leave things to end like this

•His bruised pride was one thing but something that had a chance was another thing worth fixing

•It was the end of day when he had approached you having found you with your usual group of friends

•”(y/n).”

•You took one glance in Ong’s direction before saying a goodbye to your friends and starting to walk off in an opposite direction

•”(y/n) wait!”

•You only walked faster pushing the entrance doors open before walking out in the direction of your home

•”(y/n)!”

•Ong grabbed your wrist, spinning you around so that you were facing him

•”What do you want ong?! If you're just here to make me look like a fool again then just leave me alone! Haven’t you just done enough!?”

•”(y/n) I’m sor-”

•”Yeah and I’m sorry for falling for a guy like you O-”

•Before you could fully finish your sentence Ong pulled you into a kiss his arms locking you into a hug

•You tried to push him way out of shock and he only responded with holding you tighter breaking the kiss only to mumble a please against your lips before kissing you again once more

•This time you kissed back relaxing in his touch before you both pulled back

•”Please… I’m sorry please forgive me I was stupid honestly I swear I love you more than anything (y/n)”

•”You have a week to prove it to me than.”

•”If I do than will you go out with me.”

•”That’s if you prove it to me.”

•From that day on you became the only girl Ong would look at

•He tried his best to make you smile no matter how bad your day was he always managed to

•All his affection and secretive side was all reserved you and in a weeks notice he had proven to you that you were the only girl in his heart

•”It’s been a week do you know what that means.”

•A smile creep on both of your faces

•”I guess it has been.”

•”I love you.” Ong kissed you softly pulling you closer to him

•”I love you too.”

#ong seongwoo #ong seongwoo imagines #ong seongwoo scenarios #wanna one ong seongwoo #wanna one #wanna one scenarios #wanna one imagines

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