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scaredyships · 3 years

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Renegades (Din Djarin x gn!Reader) | pt. I

y’know what, it probably makes more sense to crosspost the entire chapters rather than just post links. :v So here we go!

summary: You're used to your job as an infochant sponsored by the Bounty Hunters' Guild bringing you the occasional violent incident. But when a certain Mandalorian you've helped out before comes to you for help and accidentally brings his very dangerous problems along with him, it's all you can do to let yourself get dragged into it.

word count: 4.3k

author’s notes: If other people are allowed to write reader-inserts where the reader character has specific qualities about them then I’m allowed to as well. :v This is going to be a big multi-part reader-insert fic following the show, starting almost immediately after Mando escapes with the Child from the Guild. With how much I’m churning out per part, it’s going to be a long fic. Slow burn, mutual pining, the works - however, no smut. No allusions to it either. I’m ace and this is my own personal indulgent work where Mando is also asexual to some degree, as is Reader.

Reader is very mildly Force-sensitive, but doesn’t know it. The sensitivity manifests in them being able to sense the presence of people, impending danger, and being a little luckier than usual when it comes to anticipating oncoming attacks. They can also vaguely pick up on others that are Force-sensitive, but it comes off as a weird sense of familiarity. Grogu can tell what's going on, but there's no way for that to be communicated.

Part 1 (you are here) // ao3 link

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It wasn’t every day that you’d get a Guild member coming through your doors. Granted, you’d get all sorts of customers as an informant, but Guild members tended to be the proud sort that would rather start their hunts from scratch and not bother trying to get help from anyone. Even if that help was in the form of extensive galactic maps and planetary inhabitants that held more detail than most databases - courtesy some archives from a long-established library somewhere on Coruscant - and would come in handy once they determined what direction they were going.

It was even less often that a Guild member would try to sneak in and take you by surprise, trying to keep the knowledge that they’d even been there hidden from anyone that may be watching. Or to try and intimidate information out of you for the fee of letting you live, if they were new to the bounty-hunting field and were preoccupied with maintaining the reputation of a mercenary. Those types annoyed you to no end.

Today seemed to be one of those days.

Without fail, you always got a strange niggling in the back of your mind when someone was around that shouldn’t be. You never could explain why it was that you could do that, but it came in handy and in turn took the visitors by surprise that you knew they were there. You liked to think that’s part of why you were able to maintain your reputation within the Guild as a preferred informant.

The strange sensation was there. But it was… different somehow. You stood from your desk and brought a hand to hover near your temple, focusing on it. No, this was stronger. Not just in the way that you felt when there was more than one person, either. It was stronger, and despite being so foreign, it had an almost familiar sense to it. You furrowed your brow, eyes darting aimlessly as you tried to process it.

You stepped out from behind your desk, the work you’d been doing double-checking and updating your own archives forgotten as you cautiously reached for a hold-out blaster you kept within hand’s reach. You could never be too careful with potential clientele.

There really weren’t many places in your “office building” to go from where you were. A hallway with a small set of stairs that led to your living space, and the front door. There was a back door to the living area and a few windows that would every so often have to have their grating replaced on, and if someone was feeling especially sneaky there was an air vent that dropped into the center of the hallway.

You turned your eyes towards the ceiling, where just above was the modest kitchen area. Whoever was setting off your stranger senses, was there, even though they weren’t making noise. You sighed quietly to yourself and padded your way towards the stairs and the doorframe that led to the area, blaster ready in your hand.

Rounding the corner slowly, face blank, you glanced up and watched for any shadows or other movement on the walls ahead of you. Still no sound - though you swear there was an almost sub-audial humming that wasn’t there before, the kind you’d expect from idle machinery. You hadn’t left anything on, you knew that much.

You rolled your eyes at the thought of some meathead bringing some convoluted contraption to interrogate you with. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Might as well get this over with.

“Hey, I know someone’s up there. Your sneaking isn’t going to work on me. State your business.”

You stepped up the stairs, blaster slightly raised, not trying to be silent anymore.

You barely made it to the top step when a pair of hands grabbed you, one slamming over your mouth and the other wrenching your arm just enough to make you drop your weapon, and you were bodily lifted and pinned against the wall just to the side of where you’d been entering the room. You pushed back instinctively, trying to wrench your arm free and thinking about how effective it would be to try and bite the glove-clad hand over your mouth—

“Y/N.”

The modulated hiss of your name burst through the fight-or-flight haze that had taken over, and with a jolt you registered the Beskar helmet in front of you. All your movements stopped as you stared, dumbfounded. There was no forgetting that “face”, no matter how long it had been since you last saw it.

To be truthful, even though you’d only met him a few times before, this Mandalorian was by far the most bearable of the Guild that came to you for information. To-the-point with what he needed, no awkward attempts at small-talk, and despite how blunt he was, surprisingly polite. It made those few encounters memorable and had you wishing for more in the future over other clients. Of course fate would have it be like this.

In all honesty, the physical closeness of the whole thing was throwing you for a loop and your mind was choosing now of all times to remind you of how touch-deprived you were, and bringing back to the surface those old vaguely fond feelings for this man that occasionally crossed your path. But you were still lucid enough not to let that be at the forefront of your mind.

You quirked your eyebrow at him as he carefully released your arm, motioning for you to stay quiet. You were just barely able to nod your head enough to indicate you understood. He slowly removed his hand from your face, moving as if he went too fast you’d spook like a trapped animal and lash out.

Something was very off if Mando of all people was sneaking around your place and trying to keep you quiet. He was the last person to care about what the rest of the Guild thought about what they saw him doing, he just cared about getting jobs done and doing so as efficiently as possible. You’d heard enough about his reputation to know that much.

This predicament all but confirmed the talk you’d heard around town that Mando had gone and broken some big rules, something about going back on a bounty after turning it in, and now had a price of his own on his head.

You swept your hands out to the sides in your most “what the hell” motion you could muster. You didn’t miss the very slight sag in Mando’s posture, like he had quietly sighed.

And that’s when you noticed it.

You stared at the egg-shaped pod floating in the middle of the room. The source of the humming you’d heard earlier, no doubt. What was he carting around that was so valuable he had to take it with him instead of leaving it on his ship?

The quiet noise that came from it made you start. It almost sounded like… something alive was inside.

You gave Mando a sidelong stare. The Beskar warrior tilted his head in your direction, just enough to indicate he was looking back at you.

“Mando… what did you do.”

You watched with baited breath as he approached the pod, standing close by its side as he keyed in something on his wrist panel to open it. You knew he was honorable, but some morbid part of your mind expected something viscerally upsetting to greet you.

What was actually inside, took you more by surprise than anything you could have imagined.

Sitting up amongst a pile of blankets and peering at you with curious dark eyes and perked oversized ears, was a baby unlike any you’d ever seen. You were pretty well-versed on the galaxy’s species, but this one escaped you entirely. And somehow, you still felt some kind of familiarity towards it. This was what was causing that other strange sensation earlier.

You blinked owlishly at it. It blinked back.

“...he’s just a kid.”

It was a low murmur, one you barely caught, but it struck you with the force of a thunderclap. The last two minutes alone had completely upturned any previous conceptions you may have had about the bounty hunter and what kind of person he was.

You did not understand why he was trusting you with this. At all. Yet here you were, and there he was.

You didn’t realize you’d been slowly moving towards the pod until you were arm’s length from the child and it chirped at you, reaching up with a curious hand in your direction, his eyes bright and watching you expectantly. Your hand drifted upwards and you cautiously let the little one grasp your finger, transfixed.

A familiar voice brought you back to reality.

“I need options for lying low, somewhere off the grid. You’re currently my best option for getting them.”

You turned your head to look at the Mandalorian. It was a simple enough request, but the circumstances being what they were, he was clearly pressed for time and needed to be as discreet as possible with his actions.

Glancing back at the child and carefully removing your hand from its grasp, you didn’t miss the way he seemed somewhat disappointed to no longer be the center of your attention. Sparing a glance at Mando, you motioned for him to follow you back to the office room, stopping momentarily to retrieve your blaster from the ground. He’d been there enough to know that there were no windows to be spied upon through in the lower area. With a quick tap to his wrist panel, he trudged carefully after you, the child’s pod drifting along close behind.

“How extensive are you hoping for?”

“As much as you can manage, as quickly as you can manage.”

You casually toggled on the earpiece you were never without - com link, translation device, and a handy little neural connection that let you activate and sift through your databanks hands-free. It was expensive, but very worth the investment. As soon as you entered the room, numerous holoscreens came to life around you and began pulling up planets based on various criteria - remoteness, levels of inhabitants, general hostility levels, neutrality with the New Republic, to name a few. Your eyes flitted between screens, highlighting the more promising results and using a slight swiping motion of your hand to dismiss the less promising ones.

“I’ve got a handful you can look at, if they’re good I can download more of the information about the actual planetary ongoings for you onto a data stick.”

You glance towards the bounty hunter when you see him nod his head, but notice he’s not paying as much attention to the actual selections as you anticipated. He seemed... on edge. More so than he did when you found yourself trying to fight him after he snuck into your home. The child, meanwhile, paid no attention at all to the armored man and was mesmerized by the kaleidoscope of screens and their data streams, ears swiveling and gaze darting about, the colorful reflections dancing across the black of his eyes.

You weren’t one to fawn over kids, but you had to admit, this one could be pretty cute.

On your way to pull a blank data stick from the storage space in your desk, you froze. All the hairs on your body stood on end and something at the base of the skull felt like it was writhing, yelling at you to get out, get far away, now.

“What’s wrong.”

You rounded on the Mandalorian faster than you’d done anything in your life, data stick falling from your grip and clattering to the ground so you could instead pull out your blaster for the second time that day. This actually seemed to startle him as he backed up a step. The screens around you shut down, plunging the room into darkness now that the only light source were the small lights on some of the machinery and the dim lamp on the desk. The child whimpered, shrinking down into the safety of his pod.

“We need to leave. Right now. No time. Someone’s coming and it’s not gonna be good.”

That was all he needed to hear. With a quick look at the child, he closed the pod and unholstered his own blaster, stance wary but leaving nothing to the imagination about how often he must’ve found himself in similar situations before this and come out the victor. If you weren’t so on edge and consumed with the need to get out, you might have been able to admire the sight before you of the broad-shouldered, Beskar-clad warrior.

Another time.

Noises of someone trying to force entry echoed from the upstairs area before you even made it a step past the doorway to the office. The front door was closer, and while it seemed counterintuitive to go there versus the back door, something told you you’d have more luck that way.

You snatched your outerwear and pouched belts from their hanging hook in the hall, knowing you’d have to be lying low yourself for at least a few days before you could consider coming back home. You were an infochant, you knew of all the possible places in the immediate area that would be good for that.

There was hardly any time to react when the front door was forced open, and an unruly-looking individual aimed a blaster down the hall and began firing. How you managed to twist to the side and avoid getting hit, you’ll never know. You’ll also never know how you managed to shoot off your stun blaster at the same time Mando fired his, so the man was not just stunned into unconsciousness but hit squarely in the stomach by the blaster fire. He fell to the ground with no sound other than the thunk of his weight against the floor. You blinked in slight shock at it, turning briefly to look at the equally-taken-by-surprise bounty hunter.

Hey, you’ll take it.

He nodded briskly and brushed past you to go out the door first, and he was barely through the frame before he was effortlessly dodging and striking out at two more assailants. You almost felt sorry for them as he knocked them to the ground, the Beskar armor rendering their attempts to strike back useless, and used some well-placed blaster shots to ensure they wouldn’t get back up.

Again, there was no time for you to properly be in awe. The intruders in the upper area were making their way towards where you were, and you had to keep moving. As soon as he signaled it was safe you dashed outside, slinging your belt over your shoulder and making sure the pod with the child inside was unmarked. You didn’t doubt Mando’s ability, but you felt like now that you were in this mess, if anything did happen, it would be on you.

And you just saw what he was capable of doing to anyone on his bad side.

None of you stopped until you were several buildings away, but within view of your place. You watched from your hiding place as at least three people moved from the two different entrances, some kicking at the corpses of their accomplices and motioning to the ones going back inside, their words too distant to be made out. You could see some items haphazardly being tossed through the door, mostly your equipment. Your personal databanks were heavily encrypted and couldn’t be accessed without your genetic signature, so they’d find they were useless sooner or later. At least you had backups in storage, so it wasn’t a total loss.

They had possibly realized this, as they left the equipment, and after what looked like a brief regrouping, the vandals parted to scour the streets for any sign of where you had went,

“I think I may have to follow you on your way out of the city. I can hole up somewhere until things calm down-“

The explosion brought your thoughts to a grinding halt.

Fire, horrifically beautiful, burst through what was once your front door and upper windows as if they were made of foam and not the reinforced durasteel that all buildings in the area were required to have. Everything was simultaneously in slow motion but happening far too fast for you to truly register anything. It didn’t even feel like you were in your body anymore, it felt like you were looking through a pair of scopes from another planet. You could only stare dumbly at the smoke laced with embers as it billowed into the sky above.

“Hey, we need to move.”

A brief clap on your shoulder shocked you free of the spell. You glanced at the gloved hand, and up at its owner. There was no time to try and decipher any further meaning in Mando’s stance, if there was any sympathy expressed towards you in the hand that rested shortly on your shoulder. He motioned quickly with his head to follow him, and briskly moved to retreat from the area. With a small sigh, you hurried after him.

The three of you only stopped once you’d gone past the outskirts of the city, taking cover in an outcropping of rocks.

You didn’t need to tap into any chatter frequencies to know your name was now amongst those that you’d help bounty hunters track down.

Well… used to. That avenue was as burnt up as your home was now.

You scrubbed a hand over your face, eyes closed, now that you had a second to stop.

“If you need a ride, I can help.”

Your eyes fluttered open and you looked over your fingers at the man that just turned your life upside down. You could tell he was trying to be nonchalant about it, stance casual and visor pointed steadily in your direction, but you could feel a sense of guilt through the way he couldn’t stop shifting on his feet every so often and the way he couldn’t figure out where to settle his fingers on his belt. Must’ve been unusual for him to find himself in this kind of predicament.

“...sure. I don’t really have any other options right now.”

It was quiet on the Razor Crest. The Mandalorian sat at the helm, charting a route through hyperspace. The Child had been let out of his pod and was freely wandering the cramped cockpit, but you couldn’t be bothered to even idly watch what he may have been doing. All you could do was stare blankly at the space ahead of you.

It was gone. All of it.

Your archives you had meticulously compiled over the years. Your collection of plants from various systems that made living on the dusty rock you called home more bearable. Personal things you had held onto since your childhood, things that had been passed on to you from generations past. All that was left was what you’d managed to grab on your way out the door, thinking you’d have a chance to come back and resume life there in maybe a day or two.

And you were a fugitive now, too, for aiding Mando and fleeing rather than let yourself be captured and punished. You weren’t even able to get any of the information Mando had come to you for. You reached up and ran your fingers over your earpiece, the only thing left of your once-extensive setup. At least it was still useful.

Your brooding was interrupted by a small tug on your pant leg. Looking down, you met a pair of big, dark eyes peering up over your knees.

“Uh...hi?”

The Child cooed, tiny clawed hands gripping into the fabric, tilting his head like he expected something from you.

Kids were weird.

You hesitantly reached out, awkwardly patting his head and thinking to yourself how the combination of the grooves in his head and his thin, downy hair felt strange. His eyes crinkled at the corners in a smile. You glanced up at where Mando was sitting, to see that he had turned to watch you and the kid. You couldn’t see his eyes but his gaze still burned into you nonetheless.

You quickly turned back to the Child, letting him grab your hand and begin inspecting it thoroughly like it was an interesting toy.

This seemed like as good an opportunity as any to ask a question that had been bothering you.

“So, uh, Mando… why didn’t you try to hide the kid back at my place? You had no way to know I wouldn’t tell someone once you left.”

There really wasn’t any reason for him to trust you like that that you could come up with. The odd consult for planetary guides wasn’t nearly enough interaction for either of you to really say that you knew the other, beyond impressions. You sold information, you had no loyalty to one client over another, and knowing Mando had the kid with him at that very moment could have ended with you possibly… doing something rash, if you really wanted to. You wouldn’t. But he had no way of knowing that. Right?

There was a quiet modulated sigh from the bounty hunter. You changed looking in his direction again, and let out a small breath you’d been holding when you saw he wasn’t watching you anymore. Rather, he was watching the kid playing with your hand.

“...you’re trustworthy.”

And before you could try and get him to elaborate on what he meant, he turned back to the controls.

That wasn’t something you were expecting to hear.

You looked back at the Child, who had moved past your hand and was now pulling at the shiny silver latch tucked into your wrist piece that had your keycard attached to it. All that was left of your old residence. You pulled it out and let him take it, watching him pick at the etched grooves and writing with his claws.

You felt something akin to pain and grim amusement that something that used to be so important in your life, was now relegated to a baby toy. He could keep it, you didn’t need it anymore where you were headed.

...wait, where were you going?

“Mando, what system are we headed towards?”

“Don’t know yet. I’m getting as far as we can go first.”

Oh, good. You closed your eyes to suppress an eyeroll.

“Well, when we have some idea, let me know so I can figure out just what degree of screwed I am for starting over at everything.”

Silence from the pilot. It wasn’t his fault that he was followed, not his fault that the assailants had decided to ransack and then destroy your abode and livelihood. But you could still tell he carried the guilt as if it were. You hadn’t meant to sound like you blamed him, but your irritated tone of voice at the situation at hand could certainly be interpreted that way.

“Sorry, Mando, I just… don’t know what I’m going to do now.”

You sighed softly, absent-mindedly messing with your hands. The Child watched you, his ears drooping at your defeated tone.

“I could use an extra set of eyes around, with watching out for the kid.”

He was facing you again, this time turned in the pilot’s chair with an arm partly draped over the armrest. He was trying to look nonchalant again. The way he peered over his shoulder made you want to hide away, and you prayed he didn’t notice the flustered flush trying to creep its way onto your face.

The Child made a noise of agreement to Mando’s suggestion, looking enthusiastically from the armored man back to you, eyes bright and ears angled high in anticipation of you answering. Why this kid seemed to be so interested in you, you had no idea. You’d only just met him, why was he so excited? The only thing you could think of was that strange, familiar vibe he gave you, maybe it was a two-way thing?

Mando suggesting you stay around to help with the kid at all took you by surprise as well. You slowly turned your head to stare at him head-on. He didn’t exactly state he wanted a babysitter, but with your understanding of his profession you would probably be saddled with a lot of doing just that. You knew if anyone decided to try and come after you for information, if you were traveling with the Mandalorian you’d be safer than anywhere you might settle down. But at the same time, a nomadic lifestyle such as his relying on hunting down troublesome quarry was equally dangerous. But it wouldn’t just be you by your lonesome, and, hell, it could make for some interesting experiences.

“Are you being serious?”

All he had to do was incline his head. You looked back down at the kid, who seemed to be holding his breath waiting for an answer.

“...I don’t know the first thing about kids. But I’ll help out where I can, with him or anywhere else.”

The Child squealed, clutching the keycard he was still holding close. That earned a small chuckle from you.

You looked back up at the Mandalorian watching you both, not needing to see his face under his helmet to know he was also being affected by the small green child’s charm. He finally turned away, back to his controls, looking through the ship’s navigation to plot the next leg of whatever journey you were on.

This was going to be one hell of a ride.

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #mando #din djarin #if you want to get technical reader is an oc but i'm keeping it hopefully vague enough to just be a reader insert #my specific interest to be tailored to include - gender neutral and ace reader/aspec mando/absolutely no smut #people are allowed to like what they like but some of the popular things i've seen are not my thing #still posting to my sideblog bc I'm shy

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aceofwhump · 3 years

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Hey there! I really hope this question doesn't come across as being too personal or intrusive so please, please, please feel free to ignore. I was just wondering whether you've ever opened up to anybody about your asexuality and aromanticism IRL and how that experience was for you? I ask because I really want to do so myself but I'm just kind of concerned about how certain people might react. I guess I'm just tired of being asked whether I have a boyfriend yet

I'm happy to answer that question nonny! Sorry this took me so long. I took a short break from tumblr there.

I have indeed discuss both my aromanticism and my asexuality with people in my real life. Granted I've discussed my asexuality a lot more than my aromanticism but I've done both. I've talked about them with my really close friends as well as my immediate family (my siblings and my parents). They've all gone relatively well for me.

Every time I’ve come out or talked about it, It almost always starts with a vocabulary lesson because I have yet to meet someone who has actually heard of these terms. But that's okay because then they don't have any preconceived notions about what they mean and I can provide the correct definitions and such.

With my family, whenever it comes up, there's always this strange air of uncomfortableness but it's not a "we don’t support this" kind of uncomfortable. More like a "I don't understand this personally at all and it confuses me but I love you" kind of uncomfortable. My older brother is super chill about it (I'm pretty sure he's questioning his sexual and gender identity at the moment tbh) and we've actually joked about them. My sister and I just had a very long discussion about it all and I went into detail about how I feel and what I want. She was distressed about some of her relationships and I sometimes wonder if she’s ace too. But she listened intently and looked confused but by the end she was like Hmm. My mom doesn’t understand it all. It all makes no sense to her and I know that but she loves me and I think her knowing it now has stopped any thoughts on her part about me getting married or dating or having kids and she’s accepted that and has become okay with it. I also get tired of the “when you gonna get a boyfriend?” question and being open about my identity has helped with that.

My friends are a lot more openly happy and comfortable when it comes up but there’s still an air of “I don’t understand this way of thinking/feeling”.

With almost everyone I've told its come with confusion from them because they don’t understand how I can not feel sexual or romantic attraction. But once they know that about me they've told me that other parts of me make more sense and all talk about me dating or flirting and such have stopped. It's been wonderful. It's okay if they don’t understand because they accept it and love me anyway.

I’m not sure if this is quite what you were looking for but I have a hard time putting it into words. The people I talk to about it all are accepting and supportive but there’s always a sense of confusion or awkwardness every single time I bring up asexuality. Like today I mentioned it in order to make a joke about something and I received dead quiet in response. Like they didn’t get the joke because the concept of asexuality is so foreign to them so instead they just....stay silent. It’s kind of annoying actually. Like, if I was gay I don’t think it would be like that. But it’s not gonna stop me from talking about it or being open about it. I know they’re not being mean about it and they love me.

I don’t know if this is helpful or not but if you choose to come out I wish you the very best of luck! Most allos won’t understand it (in my experience anyway) so I would be prepared for a vocab lesson lol.

#about mod #mod post #ask #anon #mod replies #asexual #aromantic #not whump #Anonymous

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writingfortoomanyfandoms · 4 years

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Neighbourhood Barbecues

Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader

Summary: Its been a rough couple of months for him so he returns home at the plea of his mother and gets reunited with a distant friend from school

Requested: It won the vote so I guess it kinda was

Warnings: Swearing, it’s also excessively long so I figured that deserves a warning as well

A/N: I’m actually really happy with this one, I loved writing it and that’s probably why it’s as long as it is. I hope you guys like it as much as I do! This is another fic it would be cool to do spin-off blurbs for so if you have any spin-off requests then just let me know! Please remember to let me know what you think, if you liked it then please reblog or comment or send me an ask telling me so, I love hearing from you guys, getting those messages honestly make my day :)

Calum regretted coming.

If it wasn’t for the facts that he’d promised his friend he’d make an appearance and that he’d already rung the doorbell and that his arm was aching from the beer he had brought, he would have scarpered.

He figured he’d suffer through awkward conversations with old acquaintances for a bit and try to ignore the fact that most of them were just showing an interest in him because of his fame and then hang out by the food table and make use of the fact the food was free and so was the alcohol being provided.

And then he’d return home and find a new Netflix series to start binging and there he’d try and ignore his mother’s disappointed eyes on him.

God, she would be disappointed in him.

She had been so excited when Calum had said he was going to a barbecue today. He had been trapped inside the house almost the whole time he had been home so her excitement at his plans was understandable. He knew how worried his mother had been about him recently. He didn’t want her to hurt anymore than she already was.

He supposed he could stretch the awkward socialising from an hour and a half to two hours, just to keep his mum happy.

“Hey! Caleb said you’d be coming!” The smile on the woman’s face was wide and Calum desperately tried to place her, knowing that she must have been someone he went to high school with.

“Yeah, hi - he said it’d be fine if I came along?” He offered awkwardly.

“Yeah, course it is, Calum!” Yeah, he should definitely know who she was judging by her familiar tone of voice. “It’s good to see you again!”

“Who is it, bro?” Another voice called from the hallway and the woman who Calum assumed to be the hostess of the barbecue turned around to grin at the other woman who was walking down the hallway, a bottle of beer in her hand.

“Calum - you remember Calum right?”

“How could I forget Calum! He once kicked a football at my head,” this woman he recognised.

She looked different from the last time he saw her - though that was understandable considering that they had last seen each other in high school. She wad a little taller than before, held herself with more sureness but the smile on her face was the same, as were her eyes.

Yeah, perhaps she was difference appearance-wise but her mannerisms remained the same.

“Are you ever going to let that go?”

“Not until I get pay back and kick you in the head with a football,” Y/N assured him, placing her arm around the hostess’ shoulders. “I came to tell you that Rowen decided he’s a real man and so he’s in charge of the barbecue. I figured you should know before... you know, the house burnt down or something.”

“Fucking hell, again?” The other woman groaned, turning back to Calum. “Make yourself at home, Cal - it’s nice to see you again.” Y/N’s eyes fell onto Calum as her friend walked away, a half smile tugged at her lips.

“Admittedly it’s probably my fault - I’m on Rowen duty today but sometimes it’s just so funny to watch him when he’s pissed.” Calum was surprised by the laugh that her words caused in his chest.

“He still can’t handle his alcohol?” Calum asked in disbelief.

He remembered Rowen from high school - he was the life and soul of most of the parties held once their year group had discovered alcohol. Rowen was famous in school for being a complete lightweight and not giving a shit about it, and it was comforting to know that nothing had changed.

“I think he’s actually worse than before,” Y/N confided, turning to walk back through the house. She paused when she realised Calum wasn’t following and looked over her shoulder at him, eyebrows raised. “You coming? I mean, I know we kinda annoyed you in high school but I promise we’re not quite as insufferable anymore.”

“You didn’t annoy me in high school,” Calum protested, following Y/N into the house.

“Dude, we pissed off everyone. We were all so fu-hecking annoying but we’re slightly less so now.” Y/N scoffed.

“’Hecking’?” Calum quoted, his eyebrows raising.

“Oh right - yeah, these barbecues are a no-swearing zone. Didn’t Caleb warn you?” Calum shook his head and Y/N let out a breath. “You have been gone a while, Hood - a lot’s changed since you got too good for us small towners.”

“That’s not what happened,” Calum immediately said and Y/N let out a loud laugh that Calum wanted to join in with.

“I’m joking, Cal.”

“So... you say a lots happened - fill me in,” Calum insisted as they moved out into the garden of the woman’s house, filled with the familiar smell of barbecue food.

Y/N led Calum over to the table of drinks for him to deposit his beers down on.

“Well... that’s the reason over there that we’re a no-swearing zone,” Y/N nodded over to the other side of the garden.

A man he vaguely recognised was over there holding a toddler in his arms as he chatted with some friends - Caleb included.

“One of your lot has a kid?” Calum asked and Y/N nodded in confirmation, tipping her beer bottle up and finishing it off, throwing it into the trug being used as a bin and getting herself another one, seeing Calum’s look she scoffed.

“It’s my second, Cal, don’t worry,” she picked up a bottle opener and Calum picked up his own bottle, holding it out for her to take the top off of. “But, yeah, Alistair had a kid - she’s two years old and the sweetest child in the world. Her mum, however, is a complete bitch who we don’t talk about,” Y/N filled in and Calum nodded.

“Okay so... what else is new, then?” Y/N looked at him with cocked eyebrows. “Come on, I don’t care about you judging me for being so out of touch with the people I went to high school with but I don’t want all of them to think I’m a complete arsehole.”

Y/N watched him for a minute with a level gaze before nodding.

“Alright - well, I can’t imagine this coming up in conversation but Rowen is asexual and aromantic, a new thing. He cried when he told us and his parents weren’t best pleased either so it’s still a bit of a touchy subject anyway-”

“Why did his parents care?”

“Oh, none of us know. Rowen doesn’t either but hey ho, his parents always were dicks.”

“I thought it was a no swearing zone,” Calum deadpanned and Y/N raised her middle finger at him.

“Kind of an important one, actually but, you know...” Y/N gestured at the woman who was hosting the barbecue who was stood at the barbecue with the rather drunk person who Calum assumed to be Rowen.

“Yeah - I can’t remember her name, though,” he admitted a little sheepishly.

“Good - that’ll serve you well. They came out as non-binary a few years ago and while they’d understand you getting it wrong because you haven’t seen them since, try and make an effort?” Y/N suggested and Calum nodded, guilt flooding him from the assumption he had made. “Hey, don’t worry, Cal, you’re not the first one and you will make an effort so Charlie - that’s what their name is now - will be understanding.”

“Y/N!” The woman looked away from Calum and towards Alistair who was calling her.

“Yeah?”

“Can you watch her for a moment?” He requested, approaching her and Calum. Caleb was behind him, clearly only now noticing that Calum had arrived and he raised his hand in hello before walking towards Charlie and Rowen, clapping his hand on Rowen’s shoulder and Calum could hear him let out a loud laugh.

“Of course I can!” Y/N beamed, handing Calum her beer, who took it so that Y/N could take the young girl from her father. “Heya, sweetheart, you look exhausted,” Y/N chuckled. The young girl nodded tiredly against Y/N’s body.

“Who’s that?” She mumbled, her eyes only half open and fixed on Calum.

“That’s Calum - he’s a friend from school and he’s back in town for a little while.”

“C-Ca-Cal.” The girl struggled to say his name and Calum felt a smile come to his lips.

“Just Cal is fine, buddy - what’s your name?” He crouched down a little to be more on eye-level with the small girl.

“Emma,” she mumbled.

“It’s nice to meet you, Emma.”

“You know, Em, Cal’s really talented,” Y/N stated and Calum had to restrain himself from letting out a sigh, having reserved a slight hope at the back of his mind that Y/N wasn’t going to bring up the band and hark on his ‘talents’. He was having a nicer time than he had expected talking with his old distant school friend. He didn’t want it to be ruined now.

“Why?”

“Cal used to play football for the school team.”

“With Uncle Caleb?” Emma asked, her head perking up in interest.

“Yeah, that’s how we all met Cal, through Caleb.” Y/N confirmed.

“And I was in some of your classes.”

“Yeah but you only started talking to us because you made friends with Caleb on the team,” Y/N pointed out and Calum gave a conceding nod of his head.

“Where?”

“What was that, sweetheart?” Y/N asked, her attention returning to Emma, who was reaching a little for Calum. He placed their drinks down and took Emma from Y/N’s arms.

“Where?” She insisted.

“Where has he been?” Y/N offered and Emma nodded, curling up closer to Calum, her eyes drooping tiredly.

“I’m in a band, Emma.”

“A band?”

“Yeah - we go touring so I left Australia a while ago which is why I’m... never here.”

“But he’ll be coming to our barbecues, right Cal?” Y/N said, grinning at the bassist.

“What?”

“This is a weekly thing, Cal,” Y/N laughed. “Come on, Caleb must have told you.”

“I guess he mentioned something.”

“So you’ll come, right? Next week it’s at Rowen’s? He probably won’t be quite as drunk.”

“I - uh - I don’t have his address.” Calum mentioned and, truthfully, that was the only thing he was thinking about.

Because he’d spent half an hour with these people - with Y/N and her friends. And it was like he was back in high school, with nothing more to worry about than just one friend being a lightweight, than thinking of a funny comeback to a friends response.

It was the first time since leaving high school that he’d felt truly normal. Surrounded by people like Y/N. People like Caleb, Charlie, Rowen, Alistair and little Emma. Their other friends who he hadn’t yet managed to speak to.

“I’ll text it to you, Cal - and Emma will bring her trainers and you and Caleb can continue her football lessons.”

Yeah, Calum reckoned he could manage a few more barbecues.

///

“Calum! No way man! When did you arrive back in town?” Calum was surprised by the hug Rowen brought him into.

“Ro, dude, seriously how pissed were you last week?” Alistair asked, raising his hand at Calum from behind Rowen in the hallway.

“Were you at Charlie’s barbecue as well?” Rowen asked in shock, furrowing his brow as he tried to remember.

“Yeah, we actually had a very similar conversation and hug last week as well. It’s still good to see you again, though,” Calum told him, a smile on his face. Rowen stood back and allowed Calum to enter into his house. “You doing alright, Alistair?”

“Not bad, Calum. Yourself?”

“Yeah I’m good, thanks.”

And it was true. For the first time in a while, Calum was actually feeling good. He felt normal. At Charlie’s barbecue Y/N and Calum had exchanged numbers and they had been texting almost all week, about irrelevant things. It had started with Y/N sending him a photo of a dog she had seen on a run in the park that she thought he’d appreciate the photo. It had sparked a conversation and Calum found himself smiling more than before.

The day after the dog photo Y/N had added him to a WhatsApp group chat. She had texted him immediately after, apologising because she had realised she forgot to ask him if he wanted to be added. He didn’t mind at all, it was the only group chat other than the one with his bandmates that he hadn’t muted.

It was almost constantly going and it had taken a couple of days with Y/N encouraging him for him to get in the swing of writing responses.

“Wait - are you on the group chat?” Rowen asked, following Alistair and Calum through his own house. Calum and Alistair looked at each other in evident amusement and Alistair chuckled, shaking his head.

“Come on, man. Y/N has been waiting for you to turn up so that you can take her place in ‘football training’,” Alistair informed him, clapping his hand onto Calum’s shoulder in a friendly gesture and Calum’s heart soared at the mention of Y/N looking forward to see him.

“Oh - about that! I remembered Y/N saying that Emma was into football? And I saw what you were saying on the chat about, y’know, getting her some actual boots?” Calum said awkwardly.

“Oh, Calum-”

“No, no, man... I was just looking through some of my old stuff and I found my first pair of football boots and so I know they’re not much and it’s a kinda crappy gift but...” Calum reached into the bag he found and brought them out as an awkward offering. Alistair looked between Calum and the football boots before nodding.

“If you’re sure then... that’d be great... Emma’ll love them.”

“Okay, uh, cool,” Calum smiled and put the boots back in the bag to pass to Alistair.

“Go give them to her,” Alistair laughed, shaking his head a little. “I’m going to get some beers from the fridge - you want one?”

“Yeah - oh, can you put these in the fridge for me, then?” He asked, holding up the box of beers he had brought with him.

The moment that he stepped outside he felt his heart flood with instant relief, he felt free upon entering Rowen’s garden, surrounded by his new friends. Especially when he caught sight of Y/N. She was running around with Emma and Caleb. Emma was in a swimming costume and a pair of armbands, Caleb in a pair of trunks and Y/N was in a bikini and a pair of shorts, a flannel shirt unbuttoned adorned her shoulders and a pair of sunglasses perched on her nose.

The three of them were barefoot, kicking a football around, Caleb and Y/N taking it in turns to help Emma and ensure she didn’t stumble and fall.

“Cal!” Emma changed course quickly and Calum laughed, dropping his things to the floor to accomidate her rushing towards him.

“You made it!” Caleb cheered.

“I did,” Calum agreed, sweeping Emma up.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Y/N said, her tone a little soft and Calum wished she would take off her sunglasses so he could see her eyes.

An hour later, when food was being served up, Calum joined Y/N by the edge of Rowen’s pool, sitting down with his own legs dangling over the edge and into the cool water. Y/N looked over at him and offered him a grin.

“You stink,” she informed him.

“Well some of us have been entertaining children all day.”

“If you’re trying to bag a spot as being Emma’s favourite aunt or uncle then I’m afraid you’ve already missed the boat and you’re looking at her - she’s more loyal than you’d think.” Calum joined in with her laughter.

“I wanted to say thanks.”

“What for?”

“Y’know... all of this,” he gestured at the people around him and shrugged. “Just wanted to say thanks.”

“It was Caleb who invited you, remember? The rest of us just put up with that decision.” Calum smiled down at his plate of food and shook his head.

“Tell me something?”

“What’s up?”

“If Rowen’s parents were so pissed about... you know... him coming out... why do they let him have all of you guys at their house?”

“Well... he’s their only kid, you know? They’re... trying to get better with it all and... they’re on holiday anyway for the summer so they wanted someone to house watch.”

“It’s weird that you’re all back home for the summer.” Calum commented and Y/N shrugged her shoulders sighing and allowing her head to drop and land on his shoulder. Calum felt his heart rate pick up.

“Well Alistair moved back so Sydney a little after Emma’s mum abandoned them to be with his parents for support and all, and Tate moved here a couple of months ago for a job, and I guess you know why Caleb’s home,” Calum nodded, remembering what Caleb had told him about his mothers health. “Jess recently got together with Tate - but they think none of us know that - so while she says she’s back all summer to spend time with all of us we know that’s just a lie,” Calum laughed a little. “And then Rowen agreed to house sitting in an attempt to appease his parents.”

“What about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you back all summer?”

“Well it’s nice being home and seeing the family, Calum. Not all of us have a rockstar life in LA to be missing out on,” Y/N said with a meaningful glance his way, her eyebrows raised in challenge and Calum understood the meaning behind her words.

“Well I’m glad you’re here,” Y/N’s expression softened as she listen to him and took in his somewhat bashful appearance.

“I’m glad you’re home too, Cal.”

///

“So are you feeling better, Cal? After being back home?” Michael asked his best friend down the phone.

Calum had been in Sydney for approaching three months and for two of a half of them he had been spending going to the weekly neighbourhood barbecues held by Y/N’s group of friends. He had very quickly been accepted into the group and had formed close friendships with most of them, the only two who he wasn’t as secure with being Tate and Jess, but Y/N had assured him that that was because the two of them were too wrapped up in each other at the present moment.

And he and Y/N had gotten especially close. He liked being around her. He appreciated the feeling of contentedness she brought him. He liked that she made him feel normal. He liked that she made him feel wanted as more than just ‘the bassist of 5 Seconds of Summer’.

“Yeah, man… I feel a lot better than I did.” Calum agreed. He was currently walking over to Y/N’s house. It was her week to host the barbecue, admittedly some of the others had had to have it multiple times but it was fair enough seeing as though Y/N’s parents were still home for the summer as well, but had agreed to get out of the house for the day to allow Y/N to play hostess to her friends.

Y/N had joked down the phone that it really was just like being in high school again, having to wait for her parents to be out of the house for her to host a party.

That was another thing, him and Y/N spoke almost constantly. Outside of the barbecues that were fairly regularly scheduled, almost always landing on the same day every week, often at the same time as well, they would invite each other out to get coffee or ice cream or walk down the beach. Much of his summer break from the band had been spent accompanying Y/N when she took Emma to football practice to help out Alistair as much as she could.

Calum would likely never admit it to anyone but it was fairly doubtless in his mind that Y/N was much of the reason he was getting better by being back home in Sydney.

“That’s good…” Michael trailed off and silence fell between them over the line. For the first time since Calum’s somewhat downward spiral had begun, though, it wasn’t an awkward one. It felt as though he could feel the happiness radiating off of his best friend that he was feeling better, the pride that Michael felt in him that he was taking steps towards recovery. “I think-”

“I’ve been-” they began to speak at the same time, the two of them letting out chuckles. “Sorry, what were you…”

“No, no, you go first,” Michael said. Calum wasn’t surprised by that response. He hadn’t been willingly speaking much in the past few months before returning home so his friends encouragement made sense.

“I was just going to say I’ve been writing again.” Calum admitted as he began the walk up Y/N’s front garden to her door.

“Really?” Michael’s excitement was almost painful to hear and Calum winced, it hitting then (not for the first time) how much his mental state had been affecting his friends.

“Yeah! I was… I was thinking about maybe emailing what I have to you? You can check it out, see if its worth anything, you know?” He raised his hand and knocked on the door.

“Dude, I don’t think you’ve ever written a bad song, even when we were first starting,” Calum was laughing at Michael’s words when Y/N opened the door, raising her eyebrows as she saw Calum on the phone.

“Who is it?” She mouthed.

“Michael,” Calum audily answered.

“What?” Michael asked.

“Oh, shit. Sorry man, Y/N wanted to know who I was talking to,” Calum explained as Y/N stepped back to allow him into her house, mild amusement dancing over her features.

“Wait, Y/N from high school?”

“Yeah, Y/N from high school,” Calum confirmed, giving the aforementioned girl an exaggerated eye roll and Y/N covered her mouth to stop herself from giggling.

“The same Y/N you harboured a crush on for, like, three years and invited to our first concert to impress her?” Michael teased and Calum felt the blood rush to his cheeks, infinitely grateful that Y/N couldn’t hear Michael’s side of the conversation.

“Yeah, that Y/N… plus, at least I invited someone to that who actually showed up.”

“Is this your first concert?” Y/N asked Calum quietly and he nodded. “Showed up and brought friends - remember, Rowen somehow got in.”

“Yeah, remember how she brought a friend who got completely smashed?” Michael remembered at the same time, the coincidental nature of the situation causing Calum to laugh again.

“Is he coming home as well?” Y/N questioned and Calum relayed the question to his friend.

“Ah, yeah that was what I was trying to tell you - we’re all coming back for a couple of weeks. We’ve had our tickets booked for a while but didn’t want you to think we were checking up on you.” Calum explained Micahel’s answer to Y/N who nodded thoughtfully before grabbing the phone from his hand. Calum made a noise of indignation and chased her down the hallway and out into her garden.

“Cal’s having a barbecue at his next week, you should come! And the other guys too,” Y/N invited.

“It’s my fucking house!” Calum complained, but he didn’t really mind, truthfully he was thrilled at the idea of Michael, Ashton and Luke meeting his new friends properly.

“Language, Calum!” Alistair scolded, Emma was giggling in his arms after having heard Calum swear.

“Sorry Em!” Calum called, still chasing after Y/N.

“Yeah, of course they can come! I didn’t realise you were engaged, Mike, congratulations! And Luke’s really got a girlfriend? I figured he was still too awkward to talk to girls. He almost shit himself that time I congratulated him after the gig.” Y/N mused. She turned around and couldn’t stop herself from letting out a yelp of surprise when she saw how close Calum was. “I think he wants his phone back,” Y/N explained. “Yeah, it was nice speaking to you too, Mike… yeah, see you next week then!” Calum had his hand stretched out and while he tried to hide it his amusement from the situation was clear in his eyes. Y/N was reluctant to pass Calum the phone but placed it in his hand nonetheless with an innocent smile.

“She seems like fun.” Michael commented and Calum met Y/N’s eyes as he replied.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great.” Y/N’s embarrassment was clear and she excused herself away, joining Jess and Tate, stepping in the middle of the ‘secret’ couple and clapping a hand on each of their shoulders.

Calum and Y/N met again almost an hour later. He was last in line for food - all vegetarian this time since Y/N’s whole family were veggie and Y/N refused to cook meat and they walked together over to where two deckchairs were on the patio outside of her house, giving them a view of their friends.

“You okay?” Calum asked after a moment's silence and Y/N nodded. “You just seem quieter than normal,” he mentioned and Y/N sighed a laugh, leaning to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Sorry - I get a bit nervous when it’s my turn to host,” she admitted.

“Well it’s all been pretty great,” Calum assured her. “Excepting the lack of meat, of course,” he added, nudging her gently and Y/N laughed again.

“Cal?” He made a noise of acknowledgement. “Why… why are you back?” For the first time, the silence between them felt awkward. “Sorry - you don’t have to answer, I was just…” Y/N sat up, shaking her head. “I’ll go.” Calum’s hand was working on its own when it reached out to stop her from standing up.

“Stay,” Y/N looked at him, her eyes a little wide, unsure at his command but she gave hesitant nod. “My mum told me to come back,” he admitted and suddenly their closeness didn’t feel close enough. He wanted the comfort being near her brought him and he tugged her closer.

Y/N didn’t fight back against his affections and moved over from her deckchair to his, allowing his head to fall into her shoulder.

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t doing well in LA. I mean, I was. The band was doing great, we were planning for the tour and the next album and everything but…”

“But you weren’t great?” Y/N offered gently and Calum let out a long sigh before nodding.

“I was sad… I was just so sad so much of the time and I couldn’t find inspiration to write, I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I didn’t want to go anywhere and I just didn’t feel like me… do you know what I mean?” Y/N gave a wordless nod of understanding, knowing that if she spoke now, Calum would never finish his confession and she got the idea that he needed to get it off of his chest. “And I knew the others were worried about me - Mali wanted me to visit her in London because she thought a change of scenery was what I needed, Ash offered to let me move in for a bit but then my mum called and… she basically begged me to come home.”

“I’m glad she did,” Y/N confessed, rolling over so that they were face to face, her hands gently playing with the curls of his hair. He smiled gently at her, nodding.

“So am I… with you and the others I feel more like me than I have in a while,” he admitted.

“Because we’re all a bit more fucked up than you?” Y/N offered and Calum laughed, shaking his head.

“Because you don’t just see me for the band.”

///

“Am I early?”Calum was equally shocked at seeing Rowen on his doorstep.

The man was the least prepared of the whole group, consistantly late to anything they organised, always forgetting to respond to messages on the group chat and when he did send something it tended to be prefaced by something dumb he had done, he was almost always borrowing food from other people because he would forget to do his weekly shop.

Rowen was an idiot, but they all loved him.

Though it was the aforementioned reasons that their friends gave for not putting Rowen as their accountant, despite that being what his job was.

“Yeah, man - you feeling okay?”

“Yeah - I’m fully going to rub this in all of their faces when they arrive, though,” Rowen declared, entering through Calum’s house before pausing in the hallway and turning back.

“What?”

“I left the beer at home.”

“It’s probably for the best for you, Ro,” Calum mused, patting Rowen on the back. “And I know I said you’re early but there are already some people here.”

Ashton, Luke, Sierra, Michael and Crystal had arrived in Australia two days ago and had barely left Calum’s side the whole time. While they had assured him countless times that they weren’t checking up on him, Calum was well aware that they were, in fact, checking up on him. As a result of his friends suddenly developed clinginess, it was unsurprising that they were already at Calum’s house helping him prepare for the barbecue.

“Y/N also said she was going to try and come a little early,” Calum added after informing Rowen of his band mates presence.

“That was something I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” Rowen added as they moved into Calum’s back garden. “Dude you didn’t say you had a pool!”

“I one hundred percent did, but what did you want to talk to me about Y/N for?”

“Oh shit yeah. Right so, are you planning on telling her you like her or not?”

“Valid question!” Michael called from where he was attempting with Luke to light the barbecue.

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” he stammered out, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“He’s lying!” Ashton called from where he and the girls were arranging the drinks in the coolers on the table. Calum flipped off his friends.

“It’d be cool if you did because she likes you too.” Rowen informed him and Calum froze.

“She-she does?”

“Please, Y/N is never normally this friendly to anyone,” Rowen scoffed.

“She’s lovely!” Calum argued, growing a little defensive of the girl he had been harbouring a crush on.

“Yeah she is but she’s also a sarcastic bitch a lot of the time,” Rowen pointed out, rolling his eyes. “Either way, my point was that you should tell her.”

Rowen walked away to take a beer from where Ashton, Sierra and Crystal were, leaving Calum stood stock still alone on his porch, his mind racing.

“He’s right,” Ashton said as he approached his friend, passing Calum a beer as he joined him.

“Not you too,” Calum sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“Dude, this is the happiest I’ve seen you in months and I know for a fact its thanks to her, I’ve never heard you talk about any other girl in the same way that you talk about Y/N so… you need to tell her.”

“I can’t, Ash. She’s so painfully too good for me that the idea of telling her I like her with the hope of her liking me back is laughable. Actually, she probably would laugh if I told her. Look, you’ll meet her today and you’ll see what I mean.”

“I don’t need to see her to know she’s out of your league but that’s beside the point,” Ashton argued.

“You’re doing a great job at boosting my self esteem and building my confidence, by the way. Have you ever considered going into counseling if the band doesn’t work out?” There was a knock on the door and Calum gave Ashton an incredibly pointed look. “I’m going to get that. When I come back I want you to have learnt how to shut the fuck up.”

Calum walked away from Ashton, his friends infectious laughter following him down the hall and bringing a smile to his face.

“Sorry - I know I said I’d be earlier than this,” Y/N greeted him apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it - the guys were here to help set up,” Calum assured her, taking the box of alcohol from her hands.

“I just need to grab the rest of the stuff from my car,” she smiled.

“Do you need a hand?”

“No, no it’s fine. I’ll see you out back?” Calum nodded his confirmation and carried the box of booze she had brought out to his garden.

“Did you tell her?” Luke hollered across the garden, everyone but Calum erupting into laughter as the bassist groaned heavily.

“You make me want to slam my face into a table!”

“Don’t do that - you have quite a nice face,” Y/N responded as she came out of the hallway into the garden carrying two carrier bags. Rowen wolf whistled loudly and Y/N struggled with her luggage for a moment before managing to extend her middle finger at him.

“What do you even have in there?” Calum questioned, trying to move so that Y/N couldn’t see his face, which he knew would be red from embarrassment at her compliment.

“I made too much food last night for tea so I brought some leftovers for Al, Emma and Ro. And then I also picked up a bottle of wine for your parents to-”

“To thank them for letting you come over?” Calum interrupted, seeing where Y/N was going and she nodded. “Wow, we really are back in high school.”

“Fuck you,” Y/N groaned. “I’ve met your parents, like, once and we literally have come over and kicked them out of their home so we can be here and have a barbecue instead, I feel bad.”

“Trust me, they like you because they think you single handedly are the reason for me being happy again.”

“Are you trying to say that’s not the case?” Y/N gasped in offense, her hand going to her heart.

“Come on, we both know that Em was at least half the reason.”

“Valid point - I also bought some champagne that was on offer? Figured we could celebrate your band coming back or, if that’s too cheesy then there’s more alcohol for us to drink away our sadness with!” She cheered, bringing the champagne out of her bag.

“I like the sound of option B,” Luke chipped in, joining Calum and Y/N.

“Bro, you look absolutely nothing like I remember you,” Y/N commented, her eyes widening in surprise as she looked Luke up and down.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was meant as one,” Y/N assured with a smile. “I’m Y/N, by the way. Not sure if you…”

“I remember you,” he confirmed, grinning and his gaze slid over to Calum. “Besides, with the amount Calum-”

“Alright, Luke, that’s enough,” Calum had never been more grateful for Sierra’s presence. “Hey, I’m Sierra, Luke’s girlfriend. It’s lovely to meet you.” Calum watched Y/N take her hand, her smile a little more nervous than he had seen it be before.

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you too. Mike mentioned that you and…” Y/N’s face dropped a little, her eyes widening as she seemed to search her mind for the name.

“Crystal,” Calum filled in for her quietly.

“Yeah, of course. He said that you and Crystal would be coming,” she confirmed, turning to give Calum a grateful smile.

“Luke, I need your help with something,” Sierra mentioned and Calum and Luke’s faces both furrowed in confusion until Sierra shot a look at Calum and he quickly cottoned onto what she was trying to do. Calum shook his head, his eyes wide but the couple left, giggling as they did so.

“Everything alright, Cal?” Y/N asked, seeing the panicked and mildly pissed off look on his face.

“Uh, yeah! I was actually going to ask you the same thing, you seem nervous,” he added, allowing his concern to outweigh his own personal worry.

“Ah, I’m just not great at meeting new people.”

“You’ve already met the guys.”

“I never spoke to any of you guys really in high school, though,” she pointed out and Calum nodded a little, conceding to her point.

“You didn’t seem nervous talking to me,” he said after a moment of thinking.

“Yeah, but… I dunno, you’re you, you know? Plus, I had all the others to fall back on if you did decide you hated me so that was less pressure than this,” Calum snorted in laughter.

“You’re such a dumbass.”

“I take pride in it.”

Calum could feel the eyes of his bandmates, their girlfriends and Rowen burning into them as they lapsed into conversation. When there was another knock at the door, Calum was unsurprised to hear someone else call to say they’d get it.

“They’re… they are all acting kind of strange today, right? I’m not just imagining it?”

“Oh no, they’re definitely acting strange.” Calum confirmed.

“Do you know why?” She asked, observing them, though now they had gone into their own individual conversations. Calum had a feeling it was to try and play off that they were watching him and Y/N.

Calum sighed. He had a feeling that it was better to just tell her rather than have Rowen or Luke drunkenly blurt it out, knowing that the likelihood of that happening was quite high.

“I need to tell you something,” he began and his nerves came to hit him flat in the face when Y/N turned to give him her absolute full attention.

“That sounds serious,” she said, a nervous smile on her own face. “Is this a ‘sit-down-with-a-beer’ kind of serious talk or a ‘stand-up-and-shut-the-fuck-up-Y/N’ kind of serious talk?” Calum chuckled, his nerves easing just a slight bit from her familiar mannerisms.

“The second one, but I don’t want you to shut up,” Calum took a deep breath. “In fact, I’d gladly listen to you talk forever,” Y/N’s expression softened a little. “I… I’ve been really lost for the past few years of my life. Perhaps… perhaps I never really knew who I was because of what happened to the band happened so early in our lives that we never got a chance to figure out who we were. And the months before I came to Sydney I thought that… that maybe I wasn’t anyone other than ‘Calum the bassist from 5 Seconds of Summer’ but… when I’m with you I feel like I know who I am,” he explained, his gaze dropping down to his hands. “I thought being home would be shit, just another reminder of who I am and I thought when I went to Charlie’s barbecue that anyone I met there would just see me for the fame and not see me. But… you never did. You saw me for me and you accepted me and looked out for me and cared for me despite me being kind of standoffish that first barbecue,” when he risked a glance up he saw the tears in her eyes and sadness swamped him. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Calum lifted a hand to her cheek to catch the tear that slipped from her eye and Y/N giggled a little, leaning into his touch.

“Happy tears, Cal, I promise - now go on, you were about to profess your undying love for me,” it was teasing, of course it was, but Calum could hear the underlying insecurity in her words, the worry that she may have misinterpreted what he was going to say.

“I really like you, Y/N.”

It was easier to say than Calum thought. He thought the words would be groundbreaking, momentus and earth shattering. But no. It was easy. Simple and sweet and natural. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. Everything with Y/N was easy.

Just like how it was easy to allow her arms to wind around his neck.

Easy to place his hands on her waist.

Easy to relax and let her tug him down to meet her.

But easy wouldn’t be the word to describe their kiss. Groundbreaking, phenomenal and otherworldly wouldn’t be quite right either.

No, their lips sliding together, the kiss tasting of beer and spearmint gum, the way that when they broke apart they laughed gently into one another's mouths, it wasn’t any of those things.

Being with her like that was natural.

#courts writings #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #5 seconds of summer imagine #Neighbourhood Barbecues #calum hood #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood imagine #calum hood x reader #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fluff #calum hood angst #calum hood x you #calum hood imagines

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the-mandalorian-clone-lover · 3 years

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Aces in Spaces Chapter 26 pt. 1

Ok! I’ve actually decided to break the finale into three parts because its nearly 10 pages long on its own (I know I know) but I promise I’ll drop all three today!!

Warnings for excessive fluffiness, more fluff, and tooth rotting fluff

Tags: @rentskenobi @sunshinepascal @maybege @obaby-wan @princessxkenobi @agent-450

Masterlist

They’re walking in a park, Butcher is a few steps behind, and its fall and it’s a little chilly and its everything about the season that Erica loves. She’s wearing that pair of black jeans she has that are just the right stretch; that she bought at some store four years ago that are just too comfy to let go of, a cream cable knit sweater that her mother gave her in high school and a camo print jacket that is reminiscent of a military blouse. Her combat boots from her marathon days are the finishing touch and she relishes in the utilitarian look she’s managed to cultivate. She’s added a beanie even though it isn’t quite that cold yet, but she’d wrap herself in the season if she could and Roman knows that by now so there’s no sense being ashamed. She’d managed to talk him out of his suit and he’s looking every bit a dreamboat in his dark wash jeans, a grey button down (that had been their compromise) and a black leather jacket that’s lined with wool (she’s certain Butch bought it, there’s no other way she hasn’t seen him wear it before).

They’re holding hands and every now and then Roman swings them with a little more vigor and it only takes about three random swings before Erica’s giggles turn into open laughter and his smile is getting bigger with every step. They’re practically newlyweds, she reminds herself. The service, though it was more of a random act of the stars aligning that got them married, (well that and Butch having the foresight to become an ordained minister) was only a month or so ago now, and for all everyone talked to her about coming out of the honeymoon phase, nothing has changed. His voice, and she can hear his smile in it, slips into the calm around them.

“I was thinking, we could take your jeans to the lovely woman who makes my suits. Knowing all she does, she could probably make you an identical pair with little fuss.”

Erica’s blushing again, she knows she is, and she’s about to answer before he speaks again.

“I don’t think you’d want her to break them in for you—but acquiring them is quite easy.”

The woman in question, well, she’s at least a foot shorter than Erica and probably a bit heavier, so the image he presents is quite humorous. Erica hides a giggle behind her free hand before looking to his face again.

“You needn’t love, I can attach myself to a new pair, I just haven’t worked myself up to it yet.”

“Exactly why you should let me, you already love these, and I love you in them.” His eyes leave the tree line, a painting of oranges, yellows, and brilliant reds, to find hers with a wink and smile as he finishes. She knows what he means, he’s always had a soft spot for her long legs and since they’re also her favorite part of herself she always indulges him.

“Very well, star shine, I’ll tag along on your next trip”

His eyebrows raise a little at this despite the fact her eyes have returned to the scenery, “that’s a new one.”

“Well, I’ve called you ‘husband’ so much lately I thought you might want me to mix it up.”

He stops walking and tugs her hand until she presses against him and threads her other hand with his as well, staring deeply into his eyes.

“If you never call me anything else, I’ll still never manage to grow tired of hearing it.” He sounds incredibly fond, a little lovestruck even but he doesn’t care, he loves her, always has, always will. No title will change it, but it does make his heart flutter a bit when she says it all the same.

She’s smiling now, dimples forming and eyes crinkling before she says “Marry me. Marry me again. Over and over and over again!” Each sentence is broken up by a giant grin and by the time she starts saying ‘over and over’ Roman’s thrown his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck to pick her up and spin her around while she laughs. He sets her down with a sigh, not loosening his grip in the slightest. They’re still holding each other close, Roman waiting for the slight dizziness to pass, when she starts raking her fingers through his hair. Butcher clearing his throat is what eventually breaks the moment. Sending it scattering away like the leaves that lay around them.

“While I’m flattered I did so well the first time, Hannah really will be upset to be left out a second time. Regardless of circumstances.” He manages to sound genuinely annoyed with them but when they turn to him, he’s already smiling, shoulders shaking from the effort not to laugh aloud. A beat passes before he gives up.

They’re all three laughing now, Erica taking the time to watch Roman as he does, his mouth open, loud laugh seeming to resonate through the air, wrapping her in warmth that she wouldn’t trade for the world. She pauses to think before voicing her thoughts:

“Roman, why not?”

He’s panting a bit from how hard he’s been laughing and re-tangles their fingers as he looks at her brightly “Why not what lover?”.

“Why not get married again? We could do it here, this afternoon?” Her eyes are on the far tree line and the field that’s before it “I’d always wanted a fall wedding, a long sleeved dress, Hannah could be my bridesmaid—” her brow furrows as she looks back to Roman “Would we need two witnesses this time? If it’s a renewal?”

Roman’s enraptured now, looking at her in wonder as a small “you did?” slips past his lips. “We never, we never talked about the details, just the action.” The whole sentence is barely above a whisper, but he knows she hears it. He’s the one who needs to hear her answer, desperate for confirmation, leaning into her space, hopeful gaze still locked with hers.

She’s bashful now, eyes falling to the ground to study his shoes. “Well, not till the last year or so, and certainly not before I met you.”

Roman reaches out to gently hold onto her elbows then, gradually moving up to her biceps, bringing himself closer, his eyes searching for hers. “But you thought about it?” he says it desperately. Knowing Butchers definitely close enough to hear their conversation but too absorbed in it to care.

Her eyes have found his chest, not quite brave enough for eye contact yet. “I did. It was always scary before, but,” then her eyes find his and they’re radiating confidence “not with you, you made it sound wonderful. Like I was being set free instead of chaining myself to someone to be used.” She finishes with a slight frown and he wants nothing more than to kiss the lines off her forehead, kiss the bad memories right out of her mind.

He knows how she felt about marriage before, she’d told him, how she feared if she married a man then she’d have no escape if he didn’t respect her asexuality, no way out. She’d thought of it as a death sentence more than a joining of two people. She’d confided in him after a while that were it a small ceremony (preferably a justice of the peace, over in a moment) she might be able to come around to the idea, but that a large wedding still made her skittish and probably always would. To know he’d taken all that away, shown her kindness to the extent that she believed in love again, even to the point that she’d go through with an actual ceremony not for him but because she wanted to; he might faint.

He’s gripping her arms firmly now, eyes glassing over, “You, you want to do that with- with me?” it’s said in a tone of disbelief and her lips are parting in shock.

“You thought I wouldn’t?” Her frown is deeper now, and he pauses to press a lingering kiss to her forehead, closing his eyes to savor it because he knows he’s a romantic and she makes him want to embrace it.

She lowers her chin a fraction to allow it and smiles to herself, waiting for Roman to collect his thoughts.

He breaks away, looking her full in the face. “I never wanted to pressure you, we’d talked about a ceremony before and, I wanted it to be whatever you were comfortable doing. I would have married you in a dumpster if it came to it!” He finishes desperately, hoping she can feel his sincerity. It is the truth; and he expects she knows it by the way her face is turning into a grin again and she’s finally pulling him closer by his open jacket. What he does not expect is for her to kiss him full on the mouth and to move her hands from his jacket to his hair and take advantage of his gasp to slip her tongue in his mouth. He’s quite sure that he can count their public kisses on one hand despite the years they’ve been together but he can’t be bothered to relive all that now, she’s kissing him, lips soft but persistent and not even Butcher’s presence is going to stop him from enjoying that. His hands are winding around her waist, his eyes slipping shut, and he’s kissing her back with a fervor to match the one she started with, angling his head and putting all the feelings he can into it. All the yearning for her that he’s done, all the desire to hold her forever, all the gratitude that she gave him a chance all those years ago, happiness at the moment they’re currently sharing, care for her, pining after her, love for her.

She tries pulling away twice and he chases her each time, his hand between her shoulder blades brings her back the first time, a hand in her hair the second, before she finally manages it, pushing against his forehead with her own and laughing breathlessly.

“You have to let me go if I’m going to get ready to marry you again”. Her grin is splitting her face and he moves to kiss her eyelids, watching her eyes flutter closed at the last second. He places the first kiss, softly as ever, “What if” he moves to kiss the second one “I don’t want to?”

She smiles softly again, “Well, then you can answer to Hannah about why we didn’t have her in our wedding.” It’s the ace, she knows it, and if her slowly growing grin isn’t obvious enough, the twinkling in her eyes says she’s caught onto the pun too and is eagerly anticipating his pointing it out. He does her the honor, and they laugh together, noses brushing, before he turns toward Butcher, still keeping her close enough to slip his hands into her back pockets. The man in question is typing on his phone but manages to look up after a few seconds, dryly asking

“Oh, are y’all done now?” He says it with such apathy any passer-by would assume they spent nearly every moment lip-locked but Roman shakes his head and continues smiling anyway.

Butcher’s eyes return to the phone, “I got in touch with my Sunshine”. He says it so casually, as if Hannah didn’t have another name, as if they weren’t about to have their three year wedding anniversary soon, as if they hadn’t been trying for a baby all that time, “She’s going to meet Erica at the store, Green’s on his way with the car. My Sunshine’s had all this planned for a while, Ms. Erica, you two can sort the details, I’ll take care of the boss.”

Roman has sincere doubt that Butcher’s darling is the only one who’s had this ‘all planned out’ (if their original ceremony is anything to go by, he’s certain he’s right). Nonetheless, he turns to Erica, giving her one last brush of their noses before pulling his hands out of her pockets and leaning away. “Well, wife“ the word is punctuated by an eyebrow pop, “I suppose I won’t be allowed to see you till this afternoon, any last words for your darling husband who may very well perish from the depravation?”

She’s laughing out loud now, hiding her face in her hands and he can’t stop himself from pulling her in for a hug by the shoulders, certain that the joy between them could power a city. She lingers in the embrace for a few moments longer before they both hear the car pull up in the quiet. When she pulls away her hands come between his arms and cradle his face, “I’ll count the seconds till I’m back with you.”

Its said quietly. Sincerely. With so much gravity that Roman almost regrets the teasing tone he had taken beforehand. She’s sliding away, walking backwards to the car—

“So far I’m up to three!!” It said with so much joviality, such a complete turnaround from three seconds ago that Roman can’t help the huff of air that he blows through his nose, looking away and biting his bottom lip, dragging his hands up to his hips, before looking back to her and raising a hand in farewell. She blows him a kiss and winks and his heart almost stops for the second (or was it third?) time that morning.

“Alright Butch” It’s a tone that reeks of resignation but if he’s honest he can’t wait to see what the man has planned, turning toward him, he opens his arms wide in a gesture of acceptance. “Take me away. Make me look pretty. Make me the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen.” He’s teasing now, maybe if he tries hard enough Butch will leave him here and he can get a cab and follow Erica, spend the whole day with her. Tell her she’s absolutely gorgeous in every dress she has on, that he really would marry her anywhere, that he can’t wait to get old with her, that--- He becomes aware of Butch snapping his fingers in his face.

“Ok I give up, just don’t drool in the car.”

************************************************************************

#asexual #ewan mcgregor #aces in spaces #original characters #original fic #original story #ace character #new chapter

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johncallaghan · 4 years

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Asexuality

I'm a fan of Doctor Who - of course - and during online discussions about the show there's always someone who comments "I haven't been watching this" or "I'm not interested in this but I'm commenting anyway". To me, talking about my asexuality and being aromantic feels a bit like that. "Hey, everyone! You know that thing you do? Well, I don't do that!" It also doesn't seem the kind of thing one can 'come out' with more than once. "Hey, everyone! I'm still not interested in having sex!" On the other hand, one day I hope to get my own Wikipedia page. For a while the 'Warp 20 DVD' page listed the performer of I'm Not Comfortable Inside My Mind as John Callaghan, Canada's foremost heart surgeon. So I reckon I'm overdue and when it arrives I'd like it to represent me properly. Plus, there might be someone reading who is wondering what's wrong with them and when they're going to fall in love with someone, and they might be reassured that the answer could be "you're not, and that's fine". In fact, think how much extra time you're going to have! Plus, there'll be no need to regret romantic near-misses and ‘what ifs’. Did I miss an opportunity for not hooking up with that nice lady I met twenty years ago? Well, now I know the answer's no. So what's prompted this here essay? Well, I had a bereavement recently and so far have coped much better than I was expecting. Someone said "nobody can tell you how you should be feeling" which led me to think about my sexuality. It's not something I think about a great deal, in the same way I don't think about my hairstyle much.

Many years ago, my father told me that someone had asked him about my love life, and he'd replied "he's not bothered" - and it felt right to me. I would find songs like Everybody Needs Somebody To Love and that Pet Shop Boys track with "sooner or later this happens to everyone" (Love Comes Quickly) very annoying and inaccurate. It'd also rankle whenever it was said that music and dancing, things I enjoyed and expressed myself through, were all about sex, really. In over thirty years of songwriting, I've not writing a proper love song (although I have written some comedy ones for Eccentronic and The Wife In Space about people falling in love with trees etc.). But what the listener brings to music is crucial, so I don't want to deny anyone's interpretation of any of my songs. A friend of mine once said he thought of my track Femme Fatale as a love song. For him, it is. By 'correcting' someone's interpretation, I've taken something out of the world; it becomes a less varied place. Once I release my chimeras into the world, I can't control where they fly or what people will think they are. I think that metaphor got away from me a little. Er. All this will continue to work its way into my songs, of course. I'm also struck that many of the things that I feel characterise me as an individual are things I don’t do. I'm an atheist and a vegetarian too, for instance. There's definitely a song in that. Plus, my life is more complex than I'm talking about here. I love my family and friends, of course, and I find people attractive (although I don't necessarily want to do anything about it). Anyway, I'm making this declaration to add a little more representation to something under-represented. And for my eventual Wikipedia page. I reserve the right to change one day, too. (I've never been heartbroken and, y'know, never say never.) After 50 years of being like this, though, I think I can say this is part of who I am: asexual and aromantic.

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daphuu · 4 years

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[1/2] Hi, it's ace anon again. I definitely feel romantic attraction but I think I'm a lesbian but it took me a long time to realize that and kind of come to terms with it a little. And I'm getting better about it but I still can't help feeling a little guilty about it sometimes and I'm anxious about it and I've never told anyone. To me that adds to the confusion because maybe that's why I'm so uncomfortable with the idea of having sex and why I don't really feel sexual attraction

[2/2] because - I know that sounds bad - but it feels kind of wrong? But it feels different with romantic feelings, and I'm sure about those so idk... It's complicated. I know that's a lot to unload on you and I'm sorry but do you have any advice on figuring things out? I know this is a lot but regardless of if you answer / what you say you've already really helped me with your previous answer so thank you!

Hi hiiii!! I spent last night thinking about this, ace anon! 💜 Here we go—

“I definitely feel romantic attraction but I think I'm a lesbian...”

So if I’m reading this correctly (and I might not be! Sorry!) then you’re saying you might be homoromantic (a woman romantically attracted exclusively to other women) but the idea of having sex with a woman is off-putting to you. That’s totally normal, ace anon. Our society has normalized straight sex in all forms of media so much that at first the idea of non-straight sex is mind-boggling. How would that work? What would we even do? The idea of sex itself can be scary on its own. What if I’m no good? What if they don’t like it? What if I don’t know what to do? What if I upset them by doing the wrong thing? But you know what, anon? Everyone starts somewhere. Cliche, yeah, but cliche for a fucking reason. (Or maybe not a “fucking” reason, but still—)

If those are the reasons you’re worried about having sex, try to communicate them with your partner (if/when you have one). I’m going to quickly share with you the three pillars of every relationship ever:

Honesty. You and your partner need to be honest with each other. This honesty needs to start from the very beginning, not just when you start dating or fucking or whatnot. Be honest about your feelings. Be honest about your desires. Telling your partner “Hey, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with xyz yet, but I’m willing to work on it/compromise with you if it’s something that’s important to you” can only help you both in the long run. You know how relationships end? Lies. Unvoiced and unknown expectations that aren’t met. Which brings us to the second pillar—

Communication. Fuck, communication is so so important. How can you know what’s going through your partner’s head if they don’t tell you? How can they know what you’re thinking if you don’t outright tell them? Over time this’ll be needed a little less—as you and your partner get a better grasp of each other, there’ll be some sort of uhhh sixth sense, if you will, that’ll form from regular communication and honesty. You’ll be able to start anticipating each other’s thoughts/needs after a few years. It’s pretty wicked. If you aren’t sure what I mean—do you have grandparents? Still married? Think of their relationship. Comfortable with each other. Still happy together. Anticipate each other’s needs, yeah? Now think about relationships of your friends or whoever around you. Not quite there yet, yeah? Still honeymoooning. That’s fine. All relationships take time! Just communicate with each other at every turn. You aren’t comfortable? Tell them. Explain why. Try to come up with a way to become more comfortable or a solution to end the thing that is making you uncomfortable. You aren’t sure what to say? Say that. “I’m not sure how to communicate my feelings right now. I’m not angry, but I’m not happy. Maybe I’m upset? Can we talk about this please?” Totally valid thing to say. Communicate honestly with each other.

Trust. Trust is so, so important! I’m gonna—you have to trust that your partner is communicating honestly with you. You absolutely have to. If they’re lying to you then that’s on them. Call them out if you truly suspect they’re lying. Before that, though—why do you think they’re lying? Why are they lying? Are they just scared of what you’ll think? Hmmm.

I once told my high school students about these pillars. One girl turned to her boyfriend, broke up with him, and moved to the other side of the classroom like five minutes after I gave this speech. #Damn. Oof. F to that guy but I was happy she took my words to heart.

Get out of relationships that aren’t good for you. Be self-aware enough to realize they aren’t healthy. Be self-aware enough to know you always have a way out. There is always a way out of a relationship. Always.

Okay, anyway, there’s my “sex doesn’t have to be scary, be honest, communicate (what hurts? What don’t you like?), and trust your partner. They don’t want to hurt you (unless you’re into that, but I don’t recommend pain play for the first time you have sex. Please, if you end up ever having sex, stick to vanilla sex for the first handful of times you try it!!)

“I still can't help feeling a little guilty about it sometimes and I'm anxious about it and I've never told anyone.”

Why do you feel guilty for being a lesbian? Lesbians are awesome. Well, some are. Some aren’t. You know why? Because lesbians are just people. Everyone in any gender or sexuality or romanticality—we’re all just people. And there are people are great and people who are not-so-great in every aspect of life. There are quiet lesbians, loud lesbians, short lesbians, tall lesbians, annoying lesbians, friendly lesbians, cis lesbians, trans lesbians, etc etc. You don’t have to feel guilty for possibly being a lesbian, anon! I’m sure their community would welcome you with open arms.

You’re anxious about being a lesbian? Why so? There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being homoromantic or homosexual or any other -romantic/-sexual, either. What’s wrong with being human? Has someone told you that lesbians are awful? They aren’t, I swear. They’re just people like you or me or anyone else. Well, less like me, bc I’m not a lesbian, but—slsjdbdksls you know what I mean!!!

Serious talk ahead: Anon, if you live in a situation where coming out might be harmful to you, don’t come out. Don’t tell people who would use it against you or harm you for it. Just don’t. I’m sorry to make that sound so harsh, but I will never encourage putting yourself in a bad or worse situation. Maybe you’re restricted to only telling online friends that you’re queer. That’s fine. Woot woot let’s be queer together! Hi! You’ve already told me, after all. I don’t know who you are, but I know you’re quite possibly homoromantic and maybe asexual (or demi, or grey-a) and I certainly am not judging you for it. You could be a walrus and I’d still be supportive of you, anon. (As long as you let me pet you if we ever met, bc I’ve always wanted to pet a walrus. Sofft??)

If you aren’t in a situation where coming out might be harmful, what’s holding you back? Is it just you? Are you afraid of what your family/friends will think? Let me share a thing with you—and this is only if you aren’t in a potentially harmful situation—love is love. You have to consider your friends’ and family’s priorities. Will they prioritize loving you over or under their prejudice against queer people? Why? Hopefully your friends would accept you no matter what sexuality or romanticality you put forth, but I know that some friends are young and silly and selfish and straight-up assholes. Dude. Seriously, if they value you as a person and not just because they think you’re “straight,” then they’ll still value you as a person when you tell them you’re a lesbian.

To reiterate: There’s nothing wrong with being queer. There’s nothing wrong with being a lesbian. There’s nothing wrong with being straight. There’s nothing wrong with any of the -romantics or -sexuals. You’re normal. You’re human. You’re still figuring it out. Telling people you’re a lesbian and then telling them you’re bi like two years after that bc you’ve come to some sort of realization is 100% acceptable. Not being sure about yourself but wanting to share it with others is 100% acceptable. Everyone craves acceptance from their loved and cherished ones.

“...maybe that's why I'm so uncomfortable with the idea of having sex and why I don't really feel sexual attraction...”

Lemme—being a lesbian isn’t likely what’s making you uncomfortable with the idea of sex. Maybe it might make you nervous about it because you don’t know what to expect, but it shouldn’t be making you uncomfortable to the point you don’t feel sexual attraction. Honestly, anon, just go live life. When you have a romantic partner, you can figure it out with them! Tell them straight up from the get-go that you aren’t sure how you feel about sex and that they’ll have to be patient to work through this with you. They won’t judge you or put you down for it—and if they do then you know they aren’t right for you. Never let someone pressure you into having sex.

I’m an uncommon (not rare) asexual who enjoys sex. I didn’t think I would at first, tbh. Actually, until I figured out what I liked, I hated sex for like the first year I was doing it. Sex can be nice. It can be causal and silly. You can laugh during sex. It can be really hilarious sometimes. I love sex where everyone’s laughing bc of silliness. You don’t need to fear sex, anon, but I’m going to throw this at you: if you aren’t comfortable with the idea of having sex, don’t force yourself to have sex. If you choose to have sex with a future partner or something, that’s fine and dandy, but honestly? It’s not a race. If the people around you are expecting you to go start having sex whether you’re comfortable with it or not, then you’re surrounding yourself with the wrong people. Your friends should be supportive. What I said about those three pillars of a relationship—they apply to every relationship. Friendship, partnership, family bonds, romance, sex, everything.

You don’t need to feel sexual attraction to the people you’re romantically attracted to in order to be whole or valid or normal or whatever people want you to be. You really, really don’t. Just be yourself. Another good cliche for another good reason. Being yourself is so freeing. React to people how you wanna react, not how you think they want you to react. Sex and romance aren’t the same thing and they certainly don’t have to be. You can have sex without romance. That’s valid. You can have romance without sex. That’s valid. You can have both. That’s valid. You can have neither. That’s valid. There’s literally no wrong choice here. Don’t get yourself down about who you are, anon. You’re perfect the way you are, I promise. If there’s a part of you that you don’t like, either come to love it or change that part just enough that you can love it. But don’t change yourself because of what you think people think you should be like. You won’t recognize yourself in the end. Just be you, yeah? <3

“...because - I know that sounds bad - but it feels kind of wrong?”

Being a lesbian feels wrong? Or the thought of sex with another woman feels kinda wrong? Let’s unpack that a bit.

Why might being a lesbian feel wrong to you? Several options here:

You were raised to believe that anything other than heteronormativity is wrong. You feel ashamed of your lesbianity because of that.

Media. “But we’re on tumblr! The queer community is so welcome here!” Yeah, but it’s not so welcome pretty much anywhere else. Media—music, movies, shows, news—has been depicting straight as the good positive norm and anything not-straight as bad negative unnatural freakishness for years. Sorry, I meant “decades.” Think about that for a hot minute. Only recently—the last decade or so—people have started putting forward the concept of “queer is okay??” in media, and even then it’s with a bunch of awkward question marks. Yeah, we’re getting about this, but being comfortable with who you are is difficult when everywhere you look in the world you see people hateful of certain parts of you.

You aren’t a lesbian. Yeah, I said it. I know. “Wait what I thought you were supportive oh no!?” Hahaha look!! Listen! Maybe you aren’t a lesbian. Who knows? Maybe you’re biromantic, or maybe you’re panromantic, or maybe you’re something else you haven’t discovered the right label for yet. I suggest doing some research. If you can’t look it up on the ol’ home computer, libraries exist for a reason. They have computers. Go duckduckgo some shit about sexualities and romanticalities. I’m 100% sure you’ll find way more helpful stuff out there than whatever I could tell you about lesbians. I’m not a lesbian. I don’t really know what being is lesbian is like. I’m sorry I can’t help you out here.

So you have some options to think through. If it’s one of the first two—I’m so sorry. Please know that the world is as vast and differing as its people. Everyone has different opinions and share different thoughts about everything. Complicated, yeah, but ?? Idk. Just know that you will encounter people who are supportive and adoring of you at some point in your life. Get out of whatever bad situation you might be in if you can. Please. Be safe. Be strong. Be sure. <3

Or, if you meant that the thought of sex with another woman feels wrong—

Why? I know I’ve been asking you that question a lot. I was a high school English teacher. Trying to make my students use their brains and question everything was quite literally my job. I like teaching people to think for themselves instead of accepting everything someone else says. On that note—please know that in some or most cases I might be completely wrong about everything I’m saying. Take my words with a grain of salt. How reliable of a source am I? I’m just some random chick on the interwebs. You don’t know me. I might be just sitting here lying my ass off. (I’m not.) Please please please pull your information from multiple reliable sources so you can be sure that the content you’re learning about such an important matter is factually true. Don’t teach yourself misinformation. Got it? Good? Gucci? Cool.

So, again, why? Why do you feel that way? Why? Is it the thought of sex at all that feels wrong? Is it because it’s with another woman? Is it because you don’t know how to do it? Is it because you’re scared of it? Is it because of some past incident or abuse? Why do you feel like sex with another woman is wrong? This might sound odd but honestly???? Look up lesbian couples. Lesbian porn, even. Shocking. I know you’re saying “!!!!” in your head right now. Relax. I’m not just saying “hey kid watch some pornnnnnn!!! Hehehhe!” I’m trying to say that if you’re (not a minor, first of all, please please) uncomfortable because you fear the unknown or because you think it’s weird, look up some basic amateur lesbian porn. I say “amateur” because that shit isn’t a huge fake production like the usual professional stuff. The professional stuff is really weird tbh. If you prefer watching that, fine, but just know that it isn’t very well reflective of what actual sex with a woman might be like. Once you’ve watched some of that (cheeks flaming, heart racing, forehead sweating, eyes wide) and come out on the other side (laughing, hopefully, because oh my god isn’t porn so awkward and funny to watch???) then consider why you feel the way you do about lesbian sex. Consider if your opinion has changed. What caused that change?

I’ve had sex with women before. Use lube. Use lube even if you aren’t having sex with a woman. All people having sex should always use lube. Idgaf if you’re “self-lubricating” and “totally wet enough already!” Use more lube anyway. Just throwing that out there. Sorry if it makes you uncomfortable! That’s a mistake I see a lot of people who are new to sex make. They won’t use enough lube and then they’ll wonder why they hurt or they’re bleeding a little or whatnot and it’s just—lube. Lube is your friend. Water-based lube is the best, I think. Get some of that flavored stuff that tastes good to both you and your partner(s). Have at it, anon. But don’t worry about that stuff unless you actually plan on having sex one day.

I’m sorry. This whole post is verging on The Talk I gave to my youngest sister bc her mom is useless with this stuff. My youngest sister is a lesbian. She was terrified at first. “What if I’m terrible,” she said. “What if I don’t like it?” She asked. She cried a lot that week when she figured out she was a lesbian. She came crying to me. I answered her questions about relationships and sex as well as I could. I’ve had sex with members of every gender I’m currently aware of. I have a lot of advice to give about everything. She knew that. She’s pretty happy and she’s just started her first lesbian relationship with some chick from her school. They’re pretty cute together, ngl. She’d kill me if she knew I was talking about her, though, so I’m going to just leave it at that. Yes, being not-straight can be terrifying and nerve-wracking at times. I’m so, so sorry you might feel this way. Please know that you’ll have support from more corners than you think you might. And if you ever need anything, I’m right here along with the rest of the queer folk who certainly won’t judge you for being whoever you are. 💜💜💜

#not ah #i answer stuff #ace anon #anon asks #anonymous #anon #hi ace anon!#have a wonderful day~!! <3333 #stay hydrated #<3 #fave #ace talk #lesbian talk #idk how else to tag this lol #long post #ace pride #asexual #lesbian #idk

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chelseareferenced · 6 years

Note

This is so dumb but i got this very silly idea that like, what if instead if finding a human body or being reincarnated or whatever, the DA stole like a cats body or something? Its so silly but i think it would be hilarious and kind of neat so now im stuck on it

AN: Sorry I’ve had a lot of things to do and have only just got around to answering this!

Why oh why oh why had you decided that this was a good idea?Yes the mirror dimension sucks and not having a body was annoying but THIS?Why had you just moved into the first living thing that had come close to themirror?

To put a long story short, you had been kicked out of yourold body by someone you had trusted and, quite possibly, loved. And now you werestuck inside a cat.

Yes a cat.It had wandered into the abandoned mansion and hopped up onto the dresser thatwas directly beneath the mirror you were stuck in. And well… curiosity killedthe cat after all.

And now here you were. Wandering the streets, hoping to comeacross some trace of the being that had left you behind. And it was annoying.Everything was so big and loud, you now hated dogs and people kept trying totake you home. So this was why cats wanted to take over the world…

“Oh hello there little friend!” you were pulled out of thegrumpy cat thoughts by a man bending over and speaking with a slurred voice.You wanted scratch that stupid moustache off his stupid-Wait…Instead of running away you got a closer look at the man trying to befriendyou. He looked very familiar… no. It couldn’t be… Colonel? Last time you hadseen him he was stumbling away crying for Damien and Celine. He had a pinkmoustache now. It suited him somehow. You let out a mew and let him stroke youcarefully.

“Well aren’t you a curious little kitty! I’m sure Dark won’tmind if I bring you back” Who was Dark? You didn’t really know. But you satdown and looked up expectantly at the Colonel. He chuckled and scooped you upand began to practically bounce down the street. Can cats get motion sickness?Because it feels like you’re about to throw up.

The building that you were in now summed up what you hatedabout being small. And being a cat. It was big and bright and it smelled funny.“Wilford” there was a man who was wearing a blue t-shirt with a G on it. He smelledmetallic. Was Wilford the name that the Colonel went by now? It was a nicename. “Yes Google?”“Dark wants to see-” his eyes fell on you. “Why do have a cat? It is probably amangy flea bitten stray”THE FUCK DID HE JUST SAY ABOUT YOU

You hissed and tried to take a swipe at him, the fur on yourback sticking up in the air. “Google stop that! You’re scaring them!”Scared? I’ll rip his face off!Wilford was probably picking up on those violent thoughts and startedwalking towards an elevator. “Tell Dark we’ll be there soon. Oh and Google”This Google person let out a beep in response. “If you ever insult my newfriend ever again I’ll kill you” the goofy attitude that Wilford had beenputting up disappeared and it reminded you of the showdown with the Detective.He was a good man but Wilford, even when he was the Colonel could be terrifyingif he needed to be.

“There there little friend, I won’t let anyone take you awayfrom me. There is just something so familiar about you, but I’ve never had acat so I don’t know…” you wished that you could talk. But you just meowed andnuzzled against his jaw.

“Wilford!” this Dark person yelled as Wilford arrived to thefloor he had selected. Wilford chuckled and strolled into an office, with youin his arms still. “Yes Dark?”

You screeched and desperately tried to get out of Wilford’sarms. Dark was the thing that had left you behind. Had you been human you wouldhave demanded an explanation, begged him to tell you why. But you just a cat.Wilford finally out you down and Dark stared at you. “Wilford, leave me withthe cat.”Wilford let out a strange noise in fear “Dark no! Don’t hurt them!” Dark justraised an eyebrow. “Why would I hurt a cat you idiot now GO!”

Wilford dashed out of the office and Dark sighed, running ahand through his hair. Eventually he sat down on the floor. “It’s good to seeyou again old friend” you were sitting a distance away from the combination ofDamien, Celine and the House all trapped inside your broken body. Your earflicked, Damien had called you that.

“I know you’re angry at me”Yeah no kiddingDark chuckled, almost as if he could hear you. “Sarcastic as ever.”How are you in my head?!“Why are you shouting?”GET OUT OF MY HEADYOU’RE STILL SHOUTING

Something about that whole exchange seemed very meta.And Dark was very much away of that as well.“Listen… Y/N, I don’t know how to get you back into a human body, but you canstay as long as you like.” You blinked and slowly moved closer to Dark, andvery timidly placed a paw on his knee. Dark gave a very small smile, and thenhe picked you gently.

“Come along old friend, I think there is someone who wouldlike your company very much”

Wilford let out a cheer as Dark reappeared with you in hisarms. “They can stay Wilford. What do you think we should name?” Dark smiledbefore handing you over to Wilford, who hugged you happily. “I don’t know whybut… Y/N seems to be a nice name”

You purred happily and Wilford gave you a little kiss on thehead.“Y/N is a good name.”

Tagging: @blackaquokat @skidspace @raimeyl @blueinkblot @the-asexual-reaper @xdamienplier @sunstar121 @ask-the-egos @softdarkiplierimagines

#chelseareferenced #who killed markiplier #markiplier #darkiplier #wilford warfstache #wkm da #wkm y/n #y/n district attorney #cat #cat reader

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themadcapmathematician · 5 years

Text

Me explaining/working out some of my sexuality things under the cut

Also yeah i consider myself both bisexual and aroace. Its just what best fits my orientation. "Bi platonic" might be closer to what i experience but it just sounds wrong to me and i consider myself greyplatonic anyway and its really annoying to explain to people and maybe this is internalized aphobia but it also sounds like im only kinda sorta in the bi community but like no im just bi. Im bisexual. I like to have sex with all sorts of genders and im aesthetically attracted to all sorts of genders and i am open to relationships with all sorts of genders. Im bi.

I might somewhat consider myself asexual without sam but the aromantic part is really important to me. It reslly describes me. And i kinda use grey-a labels but im still lowkey tired of having to explain all that and also it kind of...suits me but doesnt. Which is how i feel about a lot of labels tbh.

Also i id with omni, pan, and polysexual labels i just rarely bring them up because i guess theres that fear of being accused of collecting labels, they just all suit me. And i guess some part of ke dismisses them as not important but like...they are. And they are to me. Its just me dismissing myself again i think but they are important. maybe i should bring them up more. theyre my communities too.

Over all i id with queer the most but sometimes i wanna talk about intracommunity issues yknow?

#madcap rants #reblogs are only ok to reblog #replies are ok too #like if you read please

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rarepair-omorashi · 5 years

Text

Something New

Voltron | Keith/Lance

AO3 | Writing Tumblr

“You want me… to piss myself?” Keith asks.

Lance nods, and keeps his eyes on the floor. He hasn’t looked at him since Keith asked what he wanted to try in bed, and he kinds of hates it. More than that though, he also gets it.

He couldn’t look at Lance when he’d told him he’s asexual towards the beginning of their relationship either. Keith isn’t sex repulsed, but he also doesn’t feel sexual attraction to anyone, and it’s been off putting to past boyfriend’s for him to not find them sexually appealing.

“It’s not the worst one I’ve heard,” Keith admits, and Lance peeks up at him hopefully.

“It’s not?”

“Uh-uh. Shiro dated someone who was into vomit once.”

Lance laughs and shakes his head.

“Oh, God. I can’t you see doing that one. You’re like a cat when you vomit.”

Keith raises an eyebrow.

“A cat?”

Lance nods.

“Have you ever seen a cat puke? They look horrified. Mine used to back up from it and shake her head, like she was denying that it happened.”

Keith laughs at the image. He knows about the cat Lance used to have, a stand-offish ragdoll that he’d tried to hide at the Garrison. If he remembers correctly, it was her puke pile in the hallway that got them caught.

“So, how do you want to do it?” Keith asks, and Lance gets shy again.

It’s a weird look on his usually loud and obnoxious (yet lovable) boyfriend.

“I don’t like planned desperation. Or overly faked desperation.”

Keith nods.

“Okay, so I get desperate because I’m desperate, and not because we planned it. Got it. Anything else?”

“Don’t keep holding if it’s hurts,” Lance says. Keith tilts his head. “Some people were potty trained so well that their bladder doesn’t release once it has reached its limit, and it can cause a lot of health problems. So if it hurts, just go.”

“Noted.”

“Do you have any rules?” Lance asks, looking at him.

“Just the usual,” Keith shrugs. “Stop if I get uncomfortable.”

Lance nods.

“Of course.”

Keith smiles, and Lance leans in to his side.

______—————_______—————

The conversation doesn’t come up again, and Keith isn’t sure how to bring it up. He knows Lance doesn’t like fake desperation, but the last time Keith was desperate was when he was sick and Lance fed him tons of liquids during the day, and right before bed. Keith had nine different pee dreams before waking up and racing to the bathroom.

Other than that, Keith doesn’t really let himself get desperate. He does have to go a little now, though he wouldn’t call it desperate. Just enough that he can feel it, so he doesn’t say anything.

Keith isn’t sure if it counts as planned or not if Lance doesn’t know about it, but he’s going to go for it. They settled in for a horror movie marathon, and Lance brought them both plenty of drinks, probable without thinking. Surely it doesn’t count as pre-planned if he just drinks everything Lance gave him, right?

Deciding that it’s probably okay if Keith has it planned and not Lance, he starts sitting on the soda Lance brought from the kitchen. He makes it through the equivalent of three extra large sodas from the movie theater, and half of the second movie before it really hits him. It’s a feat, he thinks, since he usually has to leave mid-movie after finishing one extra large on the rare occasion that he goes to the movies.

He jumps at a jump scare, and it sends a pulse through his bladder. It’s a warning sign he hasn’t felt in a while, and he grabs Lance’s arm. His boyfriend looks at him, and he figures that it’s now or never.

“I have to pee,” he says, “I don’t want to go the bathrooms alone.”

He tries to stress his words, and Lance seems to catch on. A spark of interest appears in his eyes, and Keith openly squirms.

“Can’t you hold it until it’s over?” Lance teases, “The best part is coming up.”

Keith whines.

“No,” he says, and squirms again.

Lance sighs, and if Keith didn’t see how eagerly he moves to grab a spare blanket, he would almost believe that he’s annoying him. He holds it out to Keith.

“I don’t feel like getting up just to take you to the bathroom,” Lance shrugs, “So just pee into this.”

Keith’s bladder spasms at the permission, and he quickly gets to his knees. He snatches the blanket out of Lance’s hand just as he begins peeing, and he barely has time to press his crotch into the blanket before it’s completely saturated his jeans.

Keith moans at the feeling of relief. He hadn’t actually though that he’d been close to a real accident; he probably could’ve made it to the bathroom if he’d wanted to, but the urine pouring out of him like a facet put at full blast makes him glad that he doesn’t have to. He glances at Lance, and he’s staring at Keith intensely.

He blushes at the gaze, and tears instinctively well up in his eyes. Somewhat planned or not, pissing yourself at twenty years old with your boyfriend watching is still embarrassing. Lance palms himself through his jeans, still staring at Keith’s crotch as he drenches the blanket.

Keith pulls it down some so Lance can actually him pee into it, and Lance moans. Keith storm eventually turns into a sprinkle, and pushes his muscles for one last wave before he’s empty, just as Lance cums.

Keith sits back on his heels, panting and exhausted. His butt barely meets his heels before Lance is on him, kissing around his face and wiping away the stray tears.

“You did so good, my little hot head,” Lance murmurs, before placing another kiss on his nose. “So good.”

Keith smiles sleepily, and Lance gives him a squeeze before helping him up.

“Let’s go get cleaned up, and then we can finish the movies, hmm?” Lance says, pinching Keith’s cheeks.

“Okay,” he murmurs, before leaning forward and kissing Lance’s cheek. “We can do this again sometime. If you want.”

Lance gives him a surprised look.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Felt kind of good to let go of so much.”

Lance grins.

“You really are the best boyfriend ever, you know?”

Keith rolls his eyes.

“So you’ve told me.”

#klance omorashi #klance omocute #omorashi #omocute #vld omorashi #vld omocute #voltron omorashi #voltron omocute #my writing

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kirkwall-on-fire-blog · 5 years

Text

In-Character Interview

Rules:

1. Choose a character

2. Answer as them

3. Tag 5 people!

I consider myself tagged by @allisondraste because yes.

I will probably be returning to this later on because, honestly... I have too many OCs and love to talk about them all.

I’ll tag: Uhhhhhh I don’t actually know how tagging works?? (RIP me). An also I feel like I’m so late to this that everyone has done this already, so... I’ll tag whoever wants to be tagged! Because honestly that’s how I ended up doing this so might as well, right? Spread the OC love! <3

Elisse Cousland is up first~!

What is your name?

"Elissora Eleanor Valerie Margaret Cousland! Or, um, Elisse for short. Yes, Elisse will do just fine! Honestly...”

Do you know why you are named that?

"Father had a penchant for overly long and complicated names, I suppose? I do notknow, to be honest. Fergus likes to tease that he, Aedan, and I were all named this way so our first initials spell FAE, but... That cannot be true, right? Right?”

Are you single or taken?

"Umm both? Maybe? I am uncertain. It’s... a tad strange, being in a relationship with a spirit-- Ah, former spirit, sorry Cole! Still, I would not trade him for the world. Whatever the state of our relationship, I am quite content with it.”

Have any abilities or powers?

"I can shoot really well! It’s funny, I picked up a bow after the whole ordeal with Arl Howe because it reminded me of Mother, but after a while I felt... empowered? Yes, that is the word. It feels good to be able to protect yourself for a change, and protect others, too. I will not be a child in need of a rescue again.”

Stop being a Mary Sue!

"Why, I would never! What has Mary done to you, anyhow!? You leave her alone this instant! If you have a bone to pick with me, that is one matter, but I will not have you dragging some poor girl’s name through the mud! Humph!”

What’s your eye color?

"Blue. Mother used to say that mine looked like a calm midsummer lake, while Aedan’s looked like ice. ...Fergus has brown eyes. Teehee.”

How about your hair color?

"Hazel brown, thank you very much! All Couslands are brunettes, though I happen to have the lightest shade of hair between my siblings. Too much time spent in the sun, Mother used to say.”

Have any family members?

"Plenty! Is... what I would like to say, but at this point... It’s just Fergus and me. He’s doing rather well with his new wife, so maybe there will be more little Couslands running around soon? It would be lovely to hear children’s laughter in the old castle.”

How about pets?

"Leo offered to give me Aedan’s old Mabari, Pup, but somehow that doesn’t feel right. He chose her as his new master, you know? I wouldn’t want to break that bond. But she did promise me a puppy as soon as the new litter is born, so hopefully someday soon!”

That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like.

"Tight spaces. Dungeons. Fire... Those things bring back some bad memories. I’m sorry.

Also, Queen Anora. I really, really hate Anora. Humph.”

Do you have any hobbies/activities that you like to do?

"I practice my archery skills quite often. Sometimes Sera and Varric join me, and Mahariel showed me a few neat tricks that one time. Other than that... Pulling pranks with Sera is quite a bit of fun, though it does get us into trouble a lot... I spend much of the remaining time in the infirmary. I may not have magic, but my first aid skills have improved considerably since I joined the Inquisition.”

Have you ever hurt anyone in anyway before?

"I... hope not. I’ve tried my very best to leave no reason for anyone to be upset with me, and yet... I am certain there is someone, somewhere, who was hurt by something I - or the Inquisition - have hurt. Inquisitor Adaar says it’s unavoidable, but still, it’s not a pleasant thought.”

Ever…killed anyone before?

"Yes. Out of necessity only, and never out of selfishness or greed. I will not allow myself to sink to the level of Howe and his men.”

What kind of animal are you?

"A hawk. Aim far, strike fast, spread your wings and fly away from things that hurt you.”

Name your worst habits.

"I, uh, may stick my nose where it does not belong... I just can’t help it! What if someone is hurting and I don’t know about it? What if someone is upset at me!?”

Do you look up to anyone at all?

"Oh, plenty of people, of course. I am still young, still inexperienced, and thus I have much to learn from people greater than me. My parents and my brothers were my greatest source of inspiration growing up - and still are, in many ways. Warden-Commander Amell is another, and so is Inquisitor Adaar, and the Hawke twins, and Lady Vivienne, and Dorian, and... Oh, but I’m rambling, am I not. Sorry.”

Are you straight, gay, or bisexual?

"Neither. I am proudly asexual, thank you very much. After everything that happened to me in Howe’s dungeon... I think I would prefer to relationships of the mind and soul, and not the body.”

Did you attend school?

"When I was a girl, I was taught by Aldous, the old historian in my parents’ employ. After the Blight, Cousland sent me on an exchange program to a girls’ school in Orlais. The education was... decent, but the company rather horrid. They thought me strange when I refused to wear a mask and went out to practice my archery! Hmph! Stuck-up aristocrats!”

Ever want to marry and have kids some day?

"That’s... I know it’s expected, me being a noble and all, and if Fergus cannot produce an heir then it will be up to me to fill that role, but... I would rather not. Have kids, that is. At least not at this time. There is too much turmoil in the world, and I would not want my children to suffer the way my brothers and I did simply because the world is not a kind place. As for marriage... Maybe, someday. I admit, the thought of walking down the aisle in a while gown does make my stomach fill with butterflies...”

Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

"Do supporters of the Inquisition count? I know those are not strictly mine - if anything, they cheer most for Inquisitor Adaar and Felandris - but still. I have received several offers of marriage recently, but those hardly count, no?”

What are you most afraid of?

"Sometimes I think that this is all a dream. That one day I will open my eyes and I’m a little girl again, alone in Howe’s dungeon. Except this time, Leo doesn’t come barging in through the door to rescue me, and my brother doesn’t kill the Archdemon, and I will just die in that dungeon, without anyone ever knowing where I am or what became of me...”

What do you usually wear?

"If there is anything good about Orlais, it’s their scout uniform. It’s so sleek and yet so practical!”

What is one food that tempts you?

"I would die for just one more taste of Nan’s home-cooked pig roast. No one makes it quite like she used to.”

Am I annoying you?

“No, of course not! What would make you think such a thing?”

Well it’s still not over!

"I’m ready and willing to answer all your questions!”

What class are you (low/middle/high)?

"Technically, the second highest after the King and Queen. The Cousland family is quite renowned, and quite close to the Crown, after all. Especially after all Aedan did to save Ferelden from the Blight. We live in a castle, we have servants - all the typical assets of a noble family.

“But as for myself, I would like to think I can live a middle-class lifestyle quite well. I don’t much care for the fanfare and ceremony of the upper class. Especially the Orlesian upper class. Ugh.”

How many friends do you have?

"Good question... Does the entire Inquisition count? They are all such good people, and they have been so kind to me this entire while... And of course there’s Leo, and Alistair-- er, King Alistair, and all of Leo’s Warden recruits, and... even Teyrn Loghain, I suppose. Okay, I know he supported Howe and what he did to my family, but still... He died a hero. And that’s what counts. Aedan believed in him, I think, so I will too.”

What are your thoughts on pie?

"Mmm, pie... Oh, dear me, I didn’t mean to drool!”

Favorite drink?

“Lemonade! It’s so refreshing in the scorching heat of summer.”

What’s your favorite place?

"Back in the day, there was this tree in the back of Highever Castle. The branches up high were bent in a weird way, almost like shelves. I used to climb up there and watch the servants scurry around trying to find me for hours. Aedan was the only other person who knew about how I hid up there, and he used to sneak me snacks and random things to play with. It was almost a second room to me.

“Nowadays, I like to sit on the roof of Haven. Watching the Inquisition members from up there is just as entertaining. Aedan is gone, of course, but... Sera and Cole bring me snacks now.”

Are you interested in anyone?

"W-Well, I...! Maybe...? It’s... quite complicated, but... A-Ahem, might we change the topic, please?”

That was a stupid question…

"Aww, don’t feel bad! It was a cute question! i’m just... not good with being caught off-guard, you know?”

Would you rather swim in the lake or an ocean?

"A lake. I’ve done so quite a few times when visiting Redcliffe, too! The ocean, on the other hand, looks quite terrifying, and far too deep for me to ever hope to find a foothold. What if it carries me off? I am quite fit, but not to the point of being able to swim for days!”

What’s your type?

"The slim kind with feathers at the tip to silence its movement through the air! You look confused. We are talking about types of arrow, aren’t we?”

Any fetishes?

"Nope. End of topic.”

Camping or outdoors?

"What fun! I can run around outside for hours! Or, at least, until I trip over something, or a branch whacks me in the face... But I do love to camp.”

#dragon age #my ocs #elisse cousland #meme tag #character interview

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boarix · 5 years

Text

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part XI

Gathering Lemons

Trigger warnings: canon language/violence/gun, drug and alcohol use. Suggestive/mature content.

Bloody mess warning!

Game spoilers!

Please enjoy

“Data unavailable.”

“Wait… does that mean you don’t know or that you can’t tell me?”

“The age of agent designated ‘Deacon’ is not on file.”

“Dang…”

“Query. Why is this data relevant?”

Wraith spun around on the bar stool she had dragged into P.A.M.’s office, “I just wanna know is all. He won’t tell me cause he knows it frustrates me that he knows everything about me and I know… possibly jack, about him. Thinks it’s a big tickle.”

“Query. What is the definition of ‘big tickle’?”

“He finds it humorous.”

Walking to her office, Desdemona heard Wraith’s voice and stuck her head in to frown at her, “Deacon is not here General. He won’t be back for a few days…”

“Yes, thank you. I’m dropping some holotapes off for Hancock…”

“He still has you running errands for him, huh?” Desdemona’s face held a superior look as she walked away.

“Rude… ass…”

“Query. Why are you interactions with agent designated ‘Desdemona’ increasingly confrontational?”

Wraith spun around a few more times, considering, “I suppose she’s pissed that I quit and yet I’m still hanging around. She’s probably worried about exposure and it’s manifesting as bitchiness.”

“Query. Why did you quit? Your mission success rate was near one hundred percent. Higher even than agent designated ‘Glory’ and agent designated ‘Deacon’.”

“P.A.M, you can just say Glory and Deacon.” Wraith had winced at Glory’s name and stopped spinning to blink tears away while looking at the floor. “I quit so I could focus on Minutemen operations.”

“That phraseology is not accurate.” P.A.M walked over to stand next to Wraith. Bending slightly at the waist, the modified assaultron seemed to be trying to make eye-contact, “Query. Do you blame yourself for agent designated ‘Glory’s’ termination?”

It was a strange question, considering the source and Wraith was momentarily speechless. “I… I’m very sad that she died. I… I might have fallen for her, had things been different. Oddly enough, no; I don’t blame myself. For once. Her death I blame on Maxson. She has been avenged but I’m still going to miss her.” She stood up and watched P.A.M closely. She was acting strangely. “That was a rather emotionally orientated query, missy. Where did that come from?”

“Since my assistance in its repair, the unit designated KL-E-O has frequently entered my office and engaged me in conversation. Some of the topics would be beyond your capabilities of understanding. Some have been filed under personal developmental data. The topic of a recent discussion was loss and personal accountability.”

“Personal… P.A.M, do you like KL-E-O?”

“Insufficient data.”

“Also, pretty sure KL-E-O is a ‘she’ and not an ‘it’.”

“Logic error. Unit designated KL-E-O has no biological data and does not possess gender-related chromosomes.”

“I’ll let her explain it to you. Do you look forward to your conversations?”

“Temporarily unable to process verbal input. Still processing.”

Once topside, Wraith waved MacCready over to her and the two headed toward the Minutemen offices. Despite all the positive experiences with synths, he still found himself uncomfortable at Railroad HQ. As such, the former merc had been amusing himself by reading comics while Wraith had run her errand. As they crossed the street he gave her a recap on Grognak’s latest adventure, hoping to elicit a conversation. It didn’t take long for him to realize that she wasn’t paying attention and that she was lost in her head.

“So right about then I slapped Danse across the face and told him ‘No! Bad can! Very bad tin can!”

“Mmhmm. Is that right?”

Sighing loudly, the young man picked up his pace; positioning himself directly in her path so she stopped. Locking eyes with hers, he was clearly annoyed, “I’ve been standing around in the cold waiting for you and now you’re ignoring me. You off somewhere else, or what?”

“I told you to wait in my office, Mac. You chose to stand down here instead.” His pout, as adorable as it was, needled her, “Don’t be a baby. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Oh, yeah? Like, what’s so important?”

“Northern expansion… and asexual synth love.”

“Ugh. Gross.”

“Don’t be like that. You like plenty of synths and robots!” Wraith side-stepped around him and set her hand on the doorknob, “You get along well with Codsworth and Sturges. You and Val have played dart and Horseshoe tournaments as partners! You have always been sweet to Curie.” Wraith, in a bad mood, turned the screw, “And Mags; I’ve head you and her have gotten along really well…”

“Magnolia is..?” MacCready stopped in his tracks, his face turning tato-red.

“And I thought you said synth love was gross. Oh, well I guess lust is something different, huh?”

That hurt him. She could see it. Clenching his fists, he turned and walked away from her.

Oh. Over did it. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Wraith tortured herself reviewing their conversation for the rest of the day. Unfocused and irritated she muddled her way through various meetings, embarrassing herself and wishing like crazy the dim, winter sun would hurry to bed. She flip-flopped between being angry with MacCready and his prejudice, to being angry with herself for her lack of patience.

Hancock had been busy with meetings himself and she really didn’t want to run to him with this. Complaining about one boyfriend to another, who also happens to be his boyfriend… It all seemed so grade school.

Shuffling papers around in an angry huff, she willed herself to stay seated when someone knocked on her door, “Enter, please.”

MacCready crossed the room to her desk. Arms folded, he had a determined and grumpy look, “I went to talk to Mags…”

“Didn’t believe me, huh? Like I would make shit up…”

“Let me finish!” Unfolding his arms he whipped his hat off angrily and ran a hand through his sandy brown hair, “Please stop thinking the worst of me! Over and over I’ve watched you be kind, not just to me but to people that I would never even look twice at. Because you took a chance on me, ME of all people, I have looked twice.” He stopped with his hands out toward her, “I’m not saying this right…”

“It’s okay Mac. Take your time. I’m sorry I interrupted.”

Sitting on the edge of her desk, he reached for her hand. Pulling her to her feet, he led her around to stand between his knees. “I went to talk to Mags because I really like her. We were… are friends. I bought her a drink and asked her about… being a synth, I guess. The time we… spent together, wasn’t just mindless… I needed… I’m trying to see if…” Faltering again, he stopped and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to be a good guy, so don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m sorry too. I got shitty with you and it was uncalled for.” She wrapped her arms around his head, bringing it to her chest, “You are a good guy, Mac. I love you.”

There was another knock on her door and Wraith could tell by the cadence that it was Hancock. “Come on in, Mr. Mayor.”

Looking uncharacteristically exhausted, Hancock smiled at his lovers and their embrace, “Can I get in on that? I really need some friendly human contact right ‘bout now.”

“Rough day at the office, man?”

Hancock sighed contentedly as they settled into a group hug atop Wraith’s desk, “Ever have a day that seems to have it out for ya?”

The desk collapsed, sending all three into a pile on the floor.

“No dear. Please tell us all about it.”

Two days later found Wraith and MacCready in Diamond City. Hancock had been expecting to join them but found his responsibilities to his city too pressing to leave.

“I’ll do my best to tag along with Bossy’s next run. Course, that being weather dependent…”

The cold had been intense, especially at night. So much so that many provisioner caravans, depending on their routes, had been delayed or temporarily cancelled.

Wraith made plans for dinner with Piper before heading over to the agency to check on her favorite detective. Valentine was sitting and shuffling papers in a frustrated way that was very familiar. He seemed to be searching for something and pushed his chair back to look under his desk while tsking and muttering to himself. Wraith giggled when he crawled head-first underneath. Her chortle made him jump and bang his head, causing several items to fall to the floor.

“OUCH!”

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Val!”

Rubbing his head, his cheeks burned scarlet, “Oof! That smarts.” He smiled at her abashedly, holding his arms out for a hug.

“Can I help you find something? Where’s Ellie?”

“Believe it or not, I’m not completely helpless without her… not completely. John and MacCready with you?”

“No Hancock but Mac’s along. He’s up with Shaun. We were supposed to leave tomorrow but Mac says he smells snow so I might be in town for a couple of days. Is there anything that you’re working on that I can help with?”

Valentine shrugged evasively and turned back to his desk, “Nothing too heavy right now, kiddo.”

“Oh nonsense, no job’s too small, right?”

Valentine pursed his lips and folded his arms, “Eustace Hawthorne is a missing cat… statue.”

“Cat… like a figurine?”

“Just like.”

“Oh… Val…”

Despite a reduction in height, Valentine’s appearance and body language were still reminiscent of his gen 2 form and as such were uniquely his own. The Railroad had even managed to tint his eyes amber. Tilting his head to the side he offered her a trademark, self-mocking smirk, “What was that about ‘no job too small’?”

“Well, I mean it’s not exactly grand larceny or a kidnapping…”

“It’s nothing less then what I should expect. After all that has happened, I’m lucky the good people of Diamond City haven’t burned me at the stake.”

Her frustration boiling over, Wraith dropped the bright-side pretense, “What the hell?! I thought that we had moved past this. I came and worked that burglary case with you this fall! I… we… Piper…”

“It’ll be fine, sweetheart. I’ve been here before. Things are slow right now but they’ll pick back up. I can blame some of it on the weather. Apparently it’s too cold to get into trouble.” Removing his hat, he ran a hand through his jet-black hair and smiled at her. “Hey, since I have you here there’s something I’ve been wanting to run past you.” Holding his hat in both hands, Valentine looked at the floor, “I want to ask Ellie to marry me. Would you stand with me? Do you think John would too?”

Wraith burst into tears.

“Oh! Don’t you start cause I’ll get going and Ellie will come in to a flood!”

Wraith looped a finger through the fine chain she wore around her neck. Valentine knew that Preston had given it to her after rescuing his group at the Museum of Freedom. Reaching forward she gently grabbed the detective’s hand and brought it up to chest height. When she dropped the necklace onto his palm, Valentine could see that it held two simple gold rings.

Wraith and Nate’s wedding rings.

He tried to pull away as if she had handed him a live grenade, “No! I couldn’t possibly…”

“Please, Val. Nothing could make me happier. Think of them as my wedding gift.”

The detective relented and the two embraced. When Ellie returned she found them both puffy faced but smiling.

“Uh oh. Now what have you two gotten into?”

Wraith could tell there was something wrong with Piper. All through dinner she had been distracted and quiet. As the children, MacCready and Ellie settled in to play Euchre, Valentine and Wraith joined her in her small kitchen. Valentine rolled up his sleeves to wash the dishes and Wraith grabbed a hand-towel.

“What’s up Pipes? I can see something is eating at you.”

“Oh Blue, I didn’t want to bother you with it but it’s a disaster!” Piper threw her hands in the air and began pacing back and forth. “The long caravan to Megaton is missing! I had the Radio Freedom operator contact Murkwater and they said that they passed a week ago. A week!”

“This is perfect!”

Piper shared an alarmed look with the detective, “Jeez Blue, that’s not very sensitive…”

Wraith waved her hands at the misunderstanding, “No, no! I don’t mean I’m glad the caravan is MIA. Valentine don’t you think this calls for a master detective and his faithful sidekick?”

“Where are we going to find one of those, kiddo?” Valentine smiled at her, “I guess in a pinch, we’ll have to do. What about weatherman MacCready? Slogging through snow has lost some of its appeal since I’m now subject to cold and damp.”

MacCready sensed that he might be being left out and came into the kitchen. “What’s this about snow-slogging?”

“It hasn’t actually started to snow…”

“Wraith has voluntold us to go looking for a missing caravan, last seen ‘round Murkwater way.”

MacCready’s face was the picture of disgust, “In the swamp?!”

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want, Mac. I wouldn’t force you.”

“What I’m I supposed to do? Sit around here with my thumb up my as… butt? You didn’t even bring a rifle with you!”

Knowing full well she could simply pick up a rifle from the Minutemen armory, Wraith gave him a sappy smile, “You’re my rifle, Mac.”

Managing to look both dejected and proud, MacCready sighed, “Oh goody.”

“It’s snowing!” MacCready’s voice was muffled as he grouched at Wraith through his scarf. “I told you…”

“It’s just a flurry; don’t be dramatic.”

“It can go from a dusting to a full blown Nor’easter at the drop of a hat, sweetheart. We can’t be caught without shelter if the weather turns on us.”

After checking in with the settlers in Jamaica Plain, the trio had elected a rout that circumvented most of the swamp that surrounded the Murkwater settlement. Even so the going was cold, slippery, slow and damp; something which MacCready felt the need to mention as frequently as possible.

“Wraith, I am cold. I can’t feel my toes…”

“I’m sorry it’s miserable out fellas but we’ll be there soon and we’ll be inside and they’ll have a warm fire and it’ll be great. So hang tough.”

“Oh, thank GOD YOU ARE HERE!” The village head, Margaret, looked completely done in, “We lost power this morning! My engineer is missing, we are all freezing and all the food in the walk-in is going to spoil!”

MacCready started sputtering and making incoherent noises. Wraith was almost certain she heard a few things that sounded like profanity.

Valentine kept a level head, “Can’t you just open the freezer doors? It’s cold enough to freeze the Dead Sea out here.”

“No, Val that’s a bad idea. There are probably a lot of animals that will smell the provisions and likely come to investigate.” Wraith cocked her head to the side, “Hey, do yao guai hibernate?”

“They do and mirlurks are dormant this time of year too. Deathclaws however…”

“Yeah, but aren’t they cold…”

“The hell YOU GUYS!” MacCready’s patience had worn through, “I’M ABOUT TWO SECONDS FROM SETTING THE NEAREST BUILDING ON FUCKING FIRE! THAT’S RIGHT, YOU HEARD ME, FUCKING FIRE!”

Wraith set about organizing the settlers into teams: one group to cut ice as a temporary solution for the walk-in, another to build fires from emergency logs and a final, smaller group to help her work on the generators. Valentine moved from group to group, helping where he could and asking about the missing caravan as well as the missing Murkwater engineer.

Working as quickly as possible, Wraith and her team had the generators back up before dark. In thanks, Margaret put together a large celebratory dinner in the common house. Sitting slightly apart from the rest of the settlers, Valentine broke the news to Wraith and MacCready.

“Behemoth.”

MacCready spat his food, “You have got to be kidding me!”

“What’s the big deal Mac? Should be easy to spot and then…” Wraith pantomimed taking a shot, “Easy.”

“This is just like with the deathclaw…” MacCready held out his rifle, “This caliber will not penetrate through the armor, hide and bone of a behemoth.” When Wraith opened her mouth to protest, he held up a finger, “What I mean is, not like what you want. It’ll be small wounds that will take time to bring it down. The best I could do is blind the thing and we all know how well that works.”

“We have a Fat Man.” Margaret had been walking by and overheard, despite their hushed tones, “Only have one mini but ones enough, right?”

“Oooo. MacCready like big boom!”

“Easy, killer.” Wraith smiled at the village head, “That’s kind of you to offer but I left that here just in case another mirelurk queen decides to drop by. We’ll find another way.” She could feel MacCready’s eyes boring into her head, “Something to add, Mac?”

“MacCready like… grrrr… ruiner.”

“And another thing, the locals seem to think that there might be a chance their engineer is still kicking. Would be bad form to blow the thing to kingdom come, if it has a captive.” Valentine steepled his fingers, “Locating it will be a trial; despite its size we’ll have to track it through the thick of the swamp. That’s no mean feat.”

“…keeps getting better and better…”

“There’s a between zero and none chance this will be resolved without a clear, concise plan.”

“I wish Hancock were with us; he’s a better strategist than I am. All my plans go straight to shit.”

“…and better…”

It took the better part of a week to locate the behemoth. The Minutemen had encountered the humanoid earlier in the year when they dispelled a super mutant group. Wraith recalled the report that Preston had shared with her: it had been the only survivor and had fled south. The decision to stop pursuit was mostly an act of the soldiers own self-preservation, as changing the creatures instinct from “flight” to “fight” seemed unwise. After the Murkwater engineer went missing, a long patrol had been organized but to no avail. There wasn’t a correlation drawn between the super mutants and the current dilemma so when they found several empty mirelurk carapaces and a large game trail, they chalked it up to a “very large animal”.

The massive super mutant had been foraging north almost to the Suffolk school, to far south of the settlement in a fairly straight line, in its quest for dormant mirelurks. Once the trio found the well-stomped path, they followed it to small shack where the humanoid kept its stash. There they found the remains of the missing caravan.

“Well, that’s really too bad.” Valentine wasn’t naive enough to believe they could find the provisioners alive but he was hoping their end could have been quicker, less gruesome.

“I don’t see any of Henrietta’s gear here… she might be in its basket still.” Wraith was getting teary-eyed, “Poor kid.”

“There is a rise with a tree over there.” MacCready pointed west, “It should give me a good angle. I don’t like the light this early… I want to see… to make sure before we use the frag mines.”

Valentine gave MacCready a knowing smile, “Well, well. I see hanging out with a do-gooder has done you some good.”

MacCready blushed and rubbed his nose, “Yeah, I’m a real philanthropist now. Gave all my caps to charity ‘n everything.”

Set-up was rather simple as was their plan: a blind in MacCready’s selected tree would give him the opportunity to verify if the engineer had somehow survived her abduction. It was highly likely that she had not and to that end, the trio would use a combination of grenades and mines to eliminate the threat.

Once MacCready was safe in his perch, Wraith and the detective hunkered down separately and waited.

And waited.

“Damn. Should have brought walkies. Stupid, stupid… Boy, I hope Mac remembered his night-scope.”

He had. And as the sun dipped below the horizon, the former merc swapped out his equipment. He had been having a hard time keeping his hands warm and so found it to be a challenge despite his expertise. “None of this is fun. This flippin’ sucks! I’m a good guy. I’m a great guy! Wraith needs a good guy. Whelp, I’m that guy. Goody, great guy.”

Wraith felt their enemy even before it showed up on her Pip-Boy. The sound of a behemoth as it makes its way through the world is unmistakable: as if they were the resulting offspring of a union between a great forge-bellows and an elephant. As the creature moved toward its shack, Valentine and Wraith tensed and got themselves into fleeing/attack position. In the event that any of the three of them were sensed or seen, Wraith would engage until the other two were clear and then disappear. Both of her companions had been very vocal about her trying to bring the monster down herself.

“Here we go…” MacCready raised his rifle and took a deep steadying breath.

“Someone, please! PLEASE HELP ME! OH GOD, PLEASE!”

Henrietta was still alive. She was crying.

Wraith fought hard to stay in cover. Her berserker instinct told her she needed to run at the behemoth and tear it apart. With her teeth if she had to.

Calm. Stay calm. Breath. Gotta fall back, gotta regroup… No we can’t. We have to do something now!

Leaping to her feet, Wraith ran at the humanoid while yelling at the top of her voice, “MAC, WE HAVE TO BRING IT DOWN WITHOUT HURTING HER! IF I CAN GET IT TO THROW SHIT AT ME, THE ARMOR IS WEAK AT THE NECK AND UNDER THE ARMS!” She ducked and dodged as her surprised foe attempted to flatten her.

“I’M ALSO BEING A FOOL AND RUNNING AROUND SCREAMING!” Valentine had a borrowed shotgun and would occasionally shoot at the monster’s feet. This was more to drive it to a greater fury than to cause damage. After all, he didn’t want to accidentally kill the person they were trying to rescue.

It was a rather ridiculous scene: two grown adults running around a giant monster in the dark, shouting nonsense and firing their guns at the ground.

As predicted, the beast began to find things to throw at its tormentors. MacCready kept his focus despite the shenanigans, waiting for the right angle. Unable to predict the flight path of such a chaotic development, the trio had a collective “oh no” moment when a rather large rock narrowly missed MacCready’s blind and crashed into the tree’s trunk.

Things were rapidly heading toward shit.

The tree groaned ominously and the sniper knew his precarious perch would not hold him for much longer, “Common ya big dummy, pick up a BIG rock. Show me what you’re made of!”

As if the behemoth had heard him, it stooped low and using both hands ripped an enormous bolder from the swampy earth. Raising it far above its head, it turned to zero-in on a target; presenting MacCready with a perfect view of its armpit.

“Oh, why thank you.”

The humanoid was so startled by the bullet’s impact that it dropped the bolder squarely on its own head. There was a terrible squishing sound and an enormous gout of blood. It stood that way for several seconds before pitching forward and crashing heavily to the ground. The impact caused MacCready’s tree to fall as well but the young man was able to avoid serious injury by bailing out at the last moment and rolling to safety.

Henrietta was in pretty bad shape. In addition to being malnourished and dehydrated, her left foot had been crushed between the behemoth’s back-cage and the various detritus it contained. Despite the competency of the medics, her foot was amputated.

“It’s going to be fine General.” The engineer tried to reassure an obviously guilt-ridden Wraith, “I will still be able to do my job and it’s amazing that I survived at all!”

Doing her best to school her features into a poker face, Wraith congratulated the young women and told her how proud she was to have someone of her caliber in the Minutemen.

The kid’s trying to make me feel better and she was just kidnapped by a literal monster, held captive for almost two weeks in the freezing cold and then had to have her foot cut off! Jeez!

“What in the Sam Hill possessed you to wander around in the swamp by yourself?”

The young woman blushed at Valentine’s question and mumbled at the floor, “Patrols had been seeing carapaces out there and I wanted some. I wanted to see if I could use them for something and I was too embarrassed to ask if they would bring some back to me.”

Piper was grateful despite the unfortunate fate of her caravan. “You and Valentine… oh and MacCready… I guess… really came through for Diamond City. I’ll make sure everyone knows it too.”

“I don’t know Pipes; the caravan was lost because I never went out after that behemoth. Preston had even made a point to show me that particular report.” Wraith leaned back in the chair in Piper’s office while running her hand vigorously through her short-cropped hair, “I didn’t follow-up and so people and brahmin died.”

Piper smiled sadly at her friend, “Your hair is getting long. Are you growing it out because of the cold or do you want me to trim it for you?”

Bemused by the change in subject, Wraith nodded stupidly.

“Well, which is it Blue?”

“Umm, trim… please.”

The two women moved to the mayor’s washroom and Piper busied herself washing and trimming Wraith’s hair. The radio was softly playing and Wraith found herself relaxing as Pipers fingers massaged her scalp.

“Blue, do you remember what I said to you when you told me to run for mayor?”

“Mmm, hmm.” Wraith sat up and smiled as Piper leaned against the sink, “You said ‘you’re nuts! I can hardly keep a teenager in line, let alone an entire city!’.”

“And that’s when you said, ‘you care enough about the welfare of the citizens of Diamond City, that you were willing to risk your life!’. You went on to say how my dogged pursuit of the truth wasn’t just to get some scoop. It wasn’t just for notoriety but the most noble of quests; for justice!”

“I don’t know if those were my exact words…” Wraith knew what Piper was driving at, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do but it’s not the same thing. I dropped the ball.”

“You can’t hold yourself accountable for every bad thing that happens, Blue.”

“Watch me.” Wraith stood up while stretching. There was a slight twinge in her left arm and she rubbed it absentmindedly as she stooped to kiss Piper on the top of her head. “I’m not quite ready to make lemonade yet but thanks for the pep-talk.” She smiled disarmingly as she changed the subject, “Did I hear Val right, that he wants to cook dinner?”

Piper adopted her best Nick Valentine impression, “I want to be the sort of man who can cook for his girl! After all, she works hard all day too.” Laughing, she waved her hand dismissively, “Don’t worry. I’m going to help him make sure it’s edible.”

“You want some help?”

“Why don’t you go rest? No offence but you look pretty tired, Blue.”

“I am fine! I guess I’ll go bug Mac and Shaun for a bit…”

“…the difference between the caliber. Got it?”

“Yes, Mr. MacCready. Hi grandma!”

Wraith walked into Home Plate and offered a wave to her boys, “Don’t let me interrupt. Is there something I can help with?”

MacCready shrugged, “Davidson said we could load clips and magazines; thought that might be good practice. You can help if you want or you could go rest… for once.”

“I’m fine, Mac.” Wraith reached to grab bullets from a shelf slightly above her head. As she took a step back with her hands full, she felt lightning flash through her left arm. Her hand spasmed and opened, sending the box to the floor and bullets everywhere. “Ow, crap!”

“Are you okay?” Shaun came running to help clean up.

“Yeah, kiddo. I’m okey dokey.” Embarrassed, Wraith crouched to grab some of the wayward ordnance out from under a table. Misjudging when she was clear, she clunked her head as she stood. “Ow! Fu…heck!”

MacCready, exasperated, had his face in his hands and proceeded to drag them down his cheeks to expose the pink of his lower eyelids.

“Gross, Mac.”

“No, what is gross is that despite all,” He swept his hands out as if reveling the room, “this; I know you can still whoop me.” He laughed a little even as he started to help. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. My left arm is being… I’ll talk to Curie when we get back. No worries.”

They both looked very worried.

“Why can’t I come with you, grandma?”

Wraith slung her right arm around Shaun and pulled him to her, “It’s still too dangerous, weather wise.”

“Yeahbut, you guys are going…”

MacCready sat in a chair and leaned back with his arms behind his head, “Hancock should be in Sanctuary by now and we said we’d meet him there. I miss Dogmeat too. I want to go home and hug my ghoul and my dog.”

“Oh, I see how it is! I’m not enough for you, huh.” Wraith walked over and gave her lover a kiss that he returned with gusto.

“Ugh, you guys are both gross!”

“Wraith… SEE… right in front… NOSE! WE HAVE... STOP!”

The shrieking wind tore MacCready’s words from him and flung them around to mingle with the snow. Wraith could make out enough to understand and agreed that they needed to find cover. However, the blizzard made it almost impossible for her to see her Pip-Boy and without the map she was completely lost.

We could be wandering in circles for all I know!

Frustrated and tired, she stubbornly plowed ahead and ran face first into the side of a building. “OW! FUCK ME!”

MacCready’s lips were at her ear, “Can you at least wait until we’re inside?”

Wraith felt a shudder of need pass through her as she found the door. Relieved to see a partially obscured Minutemen insignia, she undid the padlock and let them in. “I don’t know Mac; it’s pretty cold in here. You think you’re up for it?”

He caught her arm and pulled her to him, “Wraith, I could be on fire and get it up for you.”

“Clothes off… I’ll get the fire going.”

“That… wasn’t…”

Breathing hard, Wraith collapsed on MacCready’s chest. Her head swimming in the high of release, she listened to his heartbeat as it slowed back to a normal rhythm. When she tensed to stand up he wrapped his arms around her to keep her atop him.

She smiled as she laid her head against him. He would often hold her like this after making love. It seemed as though he was reluctant to end the feeling of “oneness”. When his grip relaxed she propped herself up to watch his face. That moment when he opened his beautiful eyes and smiled at her; she could live and die for that moment.

“I’m so lucky.”

“Funny… I was thinking the same thing.”

Thank you so much for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please see my master link post under my bio. Any questions/comments/concerns, my ask is open. =^..^=

#wraith in the ruins #hancock #john hancock #john hancock fanfic #hancock romance fanfic #fallout #fallout 4 #fallout fanfic #fallout fan fiction #rj maccready #rj maccready romance fan fiction #nick valentine #nick valentine fanfic #piper wright

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aroworlds · 6 years

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Hey super big question , I feel like we’re about to be slaughtered this December because Grindlewald is Aro Gay And I’m worried that jk is going to completely dehumanize him with Jonny Depp and that she chose Jonny because of his ability to play dehumanizing characters and the writing and his portrayal combined is going to be horrific for us and I can’t stop stressing about it , and asshole allos had to bring up Grindlewald is Nazi metaphor and then I just read the wiki on Hitler, he was ace fml

I said on the weekend that we should be allowed to connect to characters who are not good representation and express that connection, and that’s absolutely true. This said, it is also true that our connection does not mean other people cannot discuss the problems with that character and story. I can express a connection with Clariel; other people have the right to discuss how her position as series antagonist situates her as another loveless villain and her message is, consequently, damaging. Both approaches are important.

To deny people space to talk about the problems, parallels and metaphors in a work or character because of our connection is as silencing as their denying us space to speak of our connection. There are specific spaces where it isn’t appropriate to discuss some feelings in that space (a fanblog where folks gush about Clariel isn’t the best space to argue that she’s dreadful aro-ace rep) and this should be respected. On your own blog, you can certainly put up boundaries on the conversations you prefer not to see. But in broader, general community spaces, the risk is that people will have differing viewpoints and that many of these viewpoints can be hard for us to take, especially if our connection to a character or work is deep and intense.

As an autistic, it can be difficult to see people have a differing opinion about a special interest. It bothers me if they don’t like something I like; it bothers me even more if they like something I consider terrible! It feels like a personal judgement, and it’s hard not to get extremely defensive in response. When it’s tangled up in questions of representation, erasure, marginalisation and identity, it becomes even more complicated, and my connection to my special interest is such that seeing differing attitudes and evaluations of it that hurt me provoke depression, defiance or anger. Those feelings don’t make for easy conversation about it with other people.

One thing I’ve found as an answer, at least in the realm of a work I connect to being dismissed, is analyzing works myself. Yes, I like it, but what does it mean? What’s the context of this character? What are the themes and how do they relate to real life? How might these themes cause harm to others? What does the context of this character say about identity? What lead them to develop this viewpoint? Is it one I should keep? This allows me to continue to engage with a special interest topic while having desensitised myself to viewpoints that aren’t mine, because part of how I now connect to it is thinking about it from lots of different angles. But this took me years to develop and you may not be yet in a position to approach things this way. It also doesn’t work for attitudes and evaluations of a work based in out-and-out hatred or bigotry; you need to be prepared to dismiss them without being overwhelmed by them, and that’s also an ability that takes time and self-awareness to gain.

I do recommend exploring the idea that a special interest doesn’t need to be perfect to have value to meand that a special interest doesn’t need to be perceived the same way by others to have value to me. Your connection to a work is about you and you alone. That connection is not diminished or erased by someone else’s opinion, someone else’s actions or someone else’s response. This applies for disagreement about character arc or idealised representation, and it applies to erasure and antagonism.

I know nothing about Hitler being ace, but so what if he is? Seriously, so what? There’s plenty of lesbian TERFs. There’s heaps of binary trans truscum causing harm to non-binary people. What of Milo Yiannopoulos? Does that mean all lesbians, all binary trans people and all gay men are irredeemable? Of course not! Being of a marginalised identity does not preclude one from being harmful, dangerous, cruel, malicious or damaging. There are aromantic people out there who are dangerous to me. That doesn’t make them less aromantic or less dangerous. It just means all kinds of people can be aromantic, including those I think morally reprehensible.

Anyone who declares all gay men dangerous because of Milo Yiannopoulosis a heterosexist bigot, and the same applies here. You cannot spend your life worrying that an awful person is gay/ace/aro/trans/autistic (etc) and what that means or if people will use that against you. If you do, you’ll never be able to breathe. The only person you’re harming with this worry is you, and you deserve better than that.

If other people use someone’s existence to dismiss your community, as has happened so many times in antagonistic conversations over the last couple of years, handle it like you handle anyone else hateful. Block them. Report vile hate speech to Tumblr. Move on to more constructive creations and conversations.

The majority of fictional and creative media is at least unthinkingly amatonormative, ableist and cissexist. I rarely get to pick up a book that respects me as a trans, autistic aro, and I have to acknowledge this risk of being hurt every time I start something new. This isn’t right or fair, but it is our reality. This movie is going to be no different on that regard, no different to the rest of the media that hurts us. The difference here is that I think this is a property you care about, one that you deeply connect to--and that’s perfectly right and normal! But that connection makes it harder to see that this is the same thing the a-spec community has been enduring for years and years. We’ve weathered everything that’s come before and we’ll weather this, too. You’ll weather this, just as you weathered every other instance of erasure and antagonism in a fictional work.

You can’t change what track the film takes or how people respond to it. You can’t control other people’s coding. You can’t control other people’s hatred, dismissal and erasure. Worrying does nothing to change the situation; it only causes you unneeded distress. Rowling has supported Depp’s casting despite wide condemnation, so what else can you do? You either see the film anyway, knowing the risks, or you don’t--and not seeing it is a valid and reasonable option, one absolutely worth considering.

Under the cut, I talk about therapy and self-care for handling anxiety:

Given your distress, I do feel it a requirement to say that I think you should look into psychology and therapy services for your anxiety. This ask goes a little beyond the scope of what I can reasonably and ethically offer in validation and support. As someone with severe anxiety myself, I swear to you that worrying about something like this, a situation you cannot change yourself, is a problem that is causing you unneeded distress and harm. I don’t know where you live or what your options are, but there are blogs that detail support options. I genuinely believe that you need professional support here and encourage you to consider this in whatever options available to you.

(If you are already in therapy or treatment, I take this post as an indication that your current approaches are not best supporting you and it may be worthwhile to discuss this with your care providers.)

I’ll finish by saying that you can handle the situation, if you feel that you cannot bear the finished film and conversations about it at all. Blacklist tags relating to content you don’t wish to see. Unfollow people who post content you don’t wish to see, especially if it’s most of their content or they don’t tag. Don’t go searching tags. Follow blogs you trust. Quietly block anyone who annoys you. You don’t need to engage in arguments on something you disagree with; you can block users and, if you really need to get something off your chest, make new posts about it on your own blog, in your own space. Turn off anon asks if you think you might be harassed for your opinions; restrict private messages to only blogs you follow.

I’d strongly advise not engaging in discourse and arguments with people who disagree with you. Block, make new posts on your blog if you must talk, reblog folks who are making points that resonate with you. You don’t have to convince the world of what you know or how wrong they are. You don’t have to engage in activism here. Just block and move on. Getting yourself caught up in arguments with people who aren’t disposed to hearing you will only cause more stress and harm to you. Some people can constantly engage in discourse without losing themselves in anger and aggression, but I’m not one of them, and I suspect you’re like me in this regard. Our activism is healthiest for us when directed into community building and validation, not fighting those who won’t listen.

Likewise, you can prepare for any self-care you need should the above fail. Have go-to media like books, films and music you need to distract yourself. Have a list of activities you enjoy that you know that calm you and work through them. If you have a friend or two you can trust to talk with you or distract you, contact them. If this is in your ability, go outside, go for a walk, go to the shops--away from your computer or phone. Watch a YouTube craft video and attempt to follow it. Play games. Write unrelated fanfiction. Keep a list of Calming Things You Can Do by your desk and on your phone, and work to develop a habit of reaching for that list when even slightly overwhelmed or stressed. Again, this is an area where a mental health professional will help you in identifying and using the interests and tools you already have to cope, particularly in working with your own interests and needs, so if you can’t put this into action on your own, this is another sign that you need a psychologist or therapist on Team You.

It’d be irresponsible of me not to suggest that you, and any other aro-spec who feels this way, seek professional support. That you’re turning towards me says you’re not currently getting what it is you need elsewhere, offline and off. That’s not a criticism on you: you deserve to be supported. It’s in no way a crime to want someone to help shore you up in the face of dismissal, erasure, antagonism and hate; it’s in no way a crime to want support from a fellow community member in the face of the antagonism we are so often dealt.

But right now, I do believe–again, as a person with severe anxiety myself–that you’re in need of professional support to cope with the things you’re finding difficult, much more support than I am ethically able to provide. I know first-hand that finding good mental health care is far from easy for many of us, but if anything is available to you, I hope you’ll consider seeking it out.

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takaraphoenix · 6 years

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I believe you didn't talk about your opinion of Riverdale's season 2 yet. (You know, in it's entirety and not just of some scenes.) But now I'm left curious. What do you think of the rest of the season? And since you wanted to find out on your own: Did you manage to correctly identify the Black Hood before it was confirmed in the show?

Oooh. Oh, sorry. I just always post the excitement when something, ya know, exciting happens. Still unsure about lengthy ramblings that seem too off-topic from the blog. (Yes, I am still pretending this blog has a theme. Let me. xD)

Oh dear, how do I put all the things into words and in order?

To sum it up briefly as an intro: I’m disappointed.

Now, more in detail.

Starting with the things I liked. Which are significantly less than the things I disliked, hence the overall verdict.

Toni is an amazing character and I love her addition to the show. I just hope she will get her own plotline next season, because this season she was only there to either further Jughead’s plot or Cheryl’s. I’m also very eager to see Toni’s and Cheryl’s relationship unfold, because boy do I ship it hard.

I really enjoyed FP and Alice Cooper’s development this season, much to my own surprise. Alice came out being one of my most hated characters first season, but I actually liked her semi-redemption arc and... I... somehow now ship her and FP? I am very disturbed by that, to be honest.

And... with that, we kind of reached the end of the things I enjoyed this season? Which, yeah, sad.

I didn’t like a single one of the main characters’ plotlines this season.

Archie and how his relationship with his father slowly came apart over the course of the season - despite it being semi-mended in the end, this whole arch seemed unnecessarily forced and in contrast to their portrayal in the first season.

Archie and starting his own fucking gang. TWICE.

Seriously. He gives Jughead shit for being a serpent, but then he goes ahead and starts his own gang. And the fucking names. Red Circle. Dark Circle. Wow. Such creativity, much awe.

Archie running after Hiram Lodge all season long was just... intensely disturbing to watch. He just allowed himself to be sucked in deeper and deeper.

So did Veronica and with her it annoyed me even more. First season Veronica seemed so much like the girl who was against her criminal father. And now she just... doubled down on the crime hard. And I genuinely don’t know what she was expecting? Because the girl acted like what happened was somehow a surprise or something in the end, when she turned against him again. Like. What... What did she think would happen...?

Then there was Betty’s plot.

I liked that she confided in Archie and her friends about the Black Hood and didn’t just do a solo gig. But her trying to get her brother and them just immediately accepting the creep into the family without so much as a fucking background check first.

And Jughead literally went from the sweet nerd with a blog to the fucking king of the gang. Like. Good lords, slow it down some. It seemed so incredibly rushed just how fast he came to accept the serpents as his family and the school as his home. I think that his “becoming a serpent and becoming king of the serpents” plot should have been stretched out over two seasons.

Cheryl’s plot was... so over the top too. Conversion camp? Her mom trying to murder grandma? And... her characterization was all over the place too. One second she is the Queen with the power-moves cutting her mom’s oxygen, the next she is the crying girl in the corner, weak and helpless. I mean, I get that with everything that happened last and this season to her, she wouldn’t be fully stable, but it really felt more like convenient writing. “Mh, we need more tension, so how about Cheryl is utterly helpless and defenseless in the next scene?” turning into “Oh but we could use a badass move, how about she just attacks the serial killer with her bow and arrows and without being the least bit intimidated?”.

Also Cheryl and Rose now living alone in the mansion... Honestly, instead of making her sick grandma her guardian, I think auntie Alice should have stepped up.

The relationship between Cheryl and Betty is really fascinating and I would genuinely enjoy seeing more of it. Like, having Cheryl move in with them, she can have Polly’s room. She would be forced to live a more down-to-Earth life.

The whole evil twin of her dad thing was really unnecessary. I mean. Seriously. It added absolutely nothing to the plot.

Just, overall, there was way too much going on this season for my taste.

And not just too much as in too many plotlines, also just... too dark, too deep, too heavy.

This show is indeed taking the Desperate Housewives route, but it hits it harder than I expected.

That is to say, the first season offers a genuinely intriguing, vaguely over-dramatic mystery that happens and that brings an unlikely band of protagonists together to solve it. Following seasons will so desperately try to top it that the dramatic event is completely blown out of proportions and loses absolutely all grasp on reality.

And that’s what happened this season.

We get a serial killer. And the mafia. And a psycho imposter brother. And an evil twin. And a conversion camp. And a gang war. And a serial rapist. And a drug problem.

That’s just too many “and”s.

First season worked perfectly. It had that one mystery that they had to solve and then some sub-plots around it. That mystery was one murder.

Now, to your other question regarding the Black Hood: HONESTLY HALF THE TIME I FORGET THAT HE IS A CHARACTER ON THIS SHOW.

Hal is so bland and so unimportant. When he made his first appearance this season, I legit went “OH right Alice has a husband! Ooops!”.

I figured it out at one point, but then they went misdirection with that second, or third, I lost count, Black Hood and I grew doubtful because why the fuck.

Last season, with daddy Blossom, it took me really long to figure it out. But when it was revealed, it was a thing that made sense. They set the mystery up so you had to work to figure it out, but it made sense plotwise.

This one? They purposefully wrote it so it doesn’t make sense.

There is no legit motive. They retconned some “Oh by the way his dad was a murderer but he pinned it on someone else and momma brainwashed him and Betty’s words in the last season finale were a trigger to turn him into a serial killer” so hard that it’s just pathetic.

And how he conveniently managed to stop killing when he got it pinned on someone else. That was literally only plot-convenience to make the viewer believe they got the right guy, because Hal had no logical motivation to stop killing. It was never about hiding his crimes? He literally wrote letters and made phone-calls and flaunted it in everybody’s face, why would he find a scapegoat and then stop killing? That’s just... bullshit. He should have, logically speaking, gone after like Hiram Lodge or some other scumbag criminal.

Nothing about that shit could have been guessed.

I mean, I did guess that Hal would be the son of the murderer. Or the one surviving child from the murder. But then they put the janitor in and killed that.

Last season’s mystery came natural. This one was forced in every way of the word.

That just completely took the fun out of it for me.

Well, that and the sheer amount of cruelty and brutality this season. There was no fun this season. Last season still had its lighthearted moments. This one didn’t.

It’s not just taking a bad Desperate Housewives route, that route is crossing streets with the bad Teen Wolf route of going grittier and darker and removing all color and fun from something that used to have color and fun and then somehow expecting that to be good. It is not. It never will be.

Either make something gritty and dark from the get-go so it attracts the right crowd of people, or make something that has jokes and lightheartedness in it and embrace that. But don’t attempt a genre-change like that. It’s a failure.

The musical episode was really out of place for me too. It didn’t fit to the tone of this season at all. Fun musical stuff could have gone with last season. Not to mention the musical could have been Kevin’s plotline. But... Kevin kind of didn’t get a plotline at all. He got one episode of musical thrown his way and that vague shit about him fucking in the woods and that was, essentially, it.

I am also not a hundred percent sure; did Betty and Jughead actually fuck or just make out...? I usually look away when they start undressing on screen and only look up again when the scene is over. I fail to see any reason for sex scenes at all, period, in literally any show, but especially so in a show about supposed teenagers? It’s just... weird for me. But if they did, fuck you show. I want asexual Jughead. Also, this ship has zero chemistry.

And can someone maybe get Betty a therapist now? Last season with her turning into psycho Betty with the fucking wig was already Really Disturbing, but she doubled down on that hard this season? And? Is she supposed to have some form of... personality disorder? Is that intentional? Either way, she helped cover up a murder this season and got psychologically tortured by her father who is a serial killer, so yeah please get her professional help.

So, yeah. That’s it.

I found this season too forced, too dark and too brutal and if the show doubles down on those elements with the same rate that it did from season 1 to season 2, then season 3 is going to be DCEU levels of dark and gritty.

I really hope they will slow down and that they will start remembering that you don’t have to rush from one traumatic, brutal event to the next murder to the next attempted rape and so on, but that you can... pause in between and put something more light in, to even things out. How do writers keep forgetting that...?

#Riverdale #Season 2 #Phoe's Random Show Rants #sunnnnyy

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