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slasherrabbitmadness · 3 years

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Bo Sinclair x Female Reader

Sinclair College AU Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Woo, NONCON ELEMENTS! This was written by demand. Seriously, bug me to write the AUs if you want to read them lol

Underthecut - NSFW, NONCON do not read if you do not like noncon, Dark fic, Vaginal sex, brief mention of anal, Bruises, creampie and Brief mentions of pregnancy

You shivered as Bo brought the blankets over you, cooing at how tired you must be, how you'll need all the rest you can get.

The dull ache throbbed throughout your body. Your toes hurt from curling them repeatedly, your hips hurt, from Bo's near incessant pounding and nails digging into your hips. Your breasts were sore, nipples teased and played with so long, his stubble scratched along your valley. Your neck was bruised, a feint handprint along the front mixed in with hickeys. Your lips sore and dry, lip gloss smeared around your mouth.

Dried tears over your cheeks, into your hair, onto the pillow.

"Hey, c'mon Sweets." Bo leaned in to kiss your cheek, making you squeeze your stomach in response, "Hey, you're good." He sat next to you, lightly patting your cheek, "Y'did so good for me, hm? So perfect." He leaned in, lips inches from your cheek, "Just like you've always been."

Bo looked down at you, bit his lower lip as your eyes remained vacant, body reacting out of an impulse to his touch, but emotionally wrought.

"You can rest for a lil while but then we gotta clean ya up, Sweets."

You cringed at the nickname, what was once a cute endearing term made your stomach turn.

"Rest for a bit, then we shower." Bo leaned in to kiss your temple, kissed your cheek ad a chaste kiss over your sore lips.

You curled into yourself, letting the motel blanket, stale smell, and lull you into a weak state of slumber.

Bo walked over to the chair, grabbing his crotch as he sat down, letting his chub rest against his thigh. He tapped his foot on the cheap carpeted floor. He leaned back to rummage through his stuff on the table, grabbing a joint and lighting it up.

He took a hit, leaned back. He listened, listened as the cars outside drove by, tires hissing along the wet pavement. A random dog barking, its deep thundering barks upsetting another tenant enough he heard a woman shouting for the thing to shut up.

The rain hit along the window, repeated taps along it felt commoning to Bo. The dull noise helped with his racing thoughts.

Bo wanted to curl into you, wrap his arms around you, kiss along your shoulder, laugh as you playfully reprimand him "Bo, stop! Your stubble is tickling me!" He smiled, "Bo, least you could do is just kiss me."

He coughed, smoke sputtered out through his lips. A deep hum rumbled from his chest, the image of you and him on the bed, curled into each other came so easily. Just like that one Valentine's day...

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

Bo held you in his arms, hand running up and down your back. He kissed your lips, groaning as you let him slip your tongue in.

He cupped your cheek, tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your moans spurred him on, his thigh pushed in between your legs, spreading you out for him.

"Bo...again?" You asked in a whisper.

"You know you got another round in ya." He kissed you again as he angled his cock at your entrance, grunted as his cock head was met with your warmth. "Ah, sure feels like you're ready." He pushed in, his hands grabbing your wrists to pin them above your head.

Deep intimate strokes have you cantering into him, "Bo..."

"Daddy, c'mon you know how we do this."

"Daddy, please, I want more."

Bo pulled out all the way and bucked forward, a quiet laugh as you squirmed under him.

He picked up speed, huffing and moaning above you. Placed sloppy kisses along your neck, sucking and biting, groaning at the fresh bruises forming along the skin.

"Daddy, ah, more." You freed your wrists from his grasp and ran your hands down his back, resting your hands on his ass. You pushed him further into you, "Daddy please, deeper in me."

His cock twitched in response, "You like when Daddy fucks you? You just need me fuckin' you always."

He kissed you as you moaned in response, hands traveled to the back of his hair, fingers threading through his brown hair.

Bo's hips grew sloppy, your pussy clenched around him as he pushed in deeper and deeper. He wanted to scream out his release, get another call from the front desk. Telling him that there have been noise complaints coming from his room.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in, his movements became shallow, you felt his cock throb within you.

Bo moaned into the kiss, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself into you. He grinned as you sobbed under him, mewling out praises, whimpering how full he was making you feel.

"Daddy, you keep coming in me, and it might just take." He wheezed, running a hand over his forehead to brush away the sweat.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" His smile fell as you gave him a mortified look.

Reality hit him, "Bo, I can't get pregnant. I'm only in my second year of University! I need my degree first. How in the hell can I have a baby? I can't afford it, I can barely afford my classes."

He groaned at your rambling, he knew you were right, knew that realistically you could never afford a baby, that a degree gave you and your children together with a better shot.

He hummed in agreement, pulled you back into him, "Shh, we'll figure it out later." He kissed your forehead, growled as you nipped at his neck.

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Bo sat up and walked over to you on the bed, "C'mon, we need to shower now."

You remained still, eyes closed, face turning into the pillow.

Bo pulled off the blankets, a hard breath through his nose as he took you in. He lifted you into his arms, pressed kisses to the top of your head, mumbling at how sweaty you smelled and tasted.

He walked into the shitty motel bathroom, a far cry from the last time you ever shared on together on Valentine's day.

The yellow light and avocado green sink, toilet, and tub held a nasty hue.

Bo looked at himself in the mirror as he held you, his eyes held a light pink hue (the weed), bags under his eyes, his hair sticking to his forehead. He grinned taking in the bruises along his shoulders and chest. A mixture of teeth marks and fists.

He set you down, an arm around your waist to steady you.

"Okay, Sweets, gonna get you clean. How many days has it been?"

You swayed in your spot, eyes downcast.

"About five days, best to get you clean." He leaned in to place a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

He turned on the water, the steam rising up to the ceiling. "Let's step in."

The water felt euphoric on your skin, washing away the last five days of bodily fluids. Bo's dried saliva, the dried semen on your front, the bits you couldn't fully wipe off your face. The hot water kissed your bruises, a pleasant ache from the hot touch.

You stared at the yellow shower tile, steadying a breath as Bo rubbed his hands over your body. You let your mind race, let it fall into a day more pleasant thoughts.

You thought of Vincent, his arms around you, holding you close, outside the library. Tears spilled as you cursed yourself, wishing you blew off Dan to accompany Vincent. Wanted to sleep in Vincent's arms like you had been almost every night since you started dating.

"Sweets?" Bo patted your cheek, "You good?"

You snapped your attention to Bo, his thumb whipping away your tears, "Might be in the shower but your red eyes are giving you away." He kissed you, tongue running along your lips.

Bo retched back, hand raised up to his cheek, he looked at his fingers, the blood trailing down.

You held a feral look, your eyes hed a feral glare, your nails with blood being cleaned by the running hot water.

"I. Want. Vincent!" You punctuated each word. Teeth bared to the tall man in front of you. You looked through him, not taking in his baby blues, his confused expression.

Bo gave you a booming laugh, you jumped as he grabbed your wrist, "Five days of this and you still want him. I thought I could get you cock drunk on me."

Be spun you around as he pushed you against the tile. Your front pressed into the slimy uncleaned surface had you gagging.

You steadied a breath again, letting your mind race to Vincent. Not Bo poking his cock along your entrance.

"Y'know, you should be pregnant by now, I think the other whole is a little lonely." You fought back a scream.

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

Vincent ran through the campus, running up to the Flamingo dorms. He had no time to think about how silly it was that the campus dorms have animal mascots.

Brahms burst through the dorm's door. Pulling on his jacket as he scratched his stubble.

Vincent ran up to him, knowing his girlfriend was a friend of his own, "Hey, Brahms, you seen Y/n? Has your girl seen her?"

"No, Princess hasn't seen her."

Vincent would normally smirk at Brahm's nickname for his girl. It was fitting, Brahms did treat her like a Princess. The gifts, the lavish vacation he took her on, she was even invited to a family wedding.

"She did mention that she has yet to get ahold of her though, apparently Dan is upset that they missed their study dates."

Vincent slapped his leg in frustration.

"I haven't seen her in five days. I've talked with my brother but I haven't seen him either." Vincent breathed in heavily, he staggered back.

Brahms reached for him, steadying his friend, "Bo probably took her."

Vincent's eye went wide.

"I mean, think about it, is it that hard to get to that conclusion. You fuck her, start dating her, flaunt how good you've both been to each other. Bo's always been, Bo. Masking his insecurity with macho bravado, hitting on pretty girls, and when they take the low-hanging fruit it fuels his ego. For a day, at least. And the one girl who managed to escape his low-level bullshit falls into his brother's arms, of course, he's pissed."

Vincent clenched his fist, "You justifying my brother?"

"No," Brahms stood up straight, arms over his chest, "Remember when I punched him for bugging my Princess? He tried to jump me a week later. For me," Brahms gave Vincent a cocky smile, "Was nothing. I can only imagine if he had anger towards a female."

Vincent's blood went cold at Brahms words. "Y'sure?"

"Hm, I am an actor! I observe people constantly, I am not known as the best method actor this school has ever had for nothing!" Brahms puffed up his chest, his cocky smile faded as he watched Vincent's shakes become near tremors.

"Look, Vincent, Have you been to the police, her parents, sibling? or whatever?" Brahms leaned closer to Vincent, a sympathetic hand remained on his shoulder.

"Yeah...her parents said...she sounded a little shaken up but fine. They said it was stress. The police are useless."

Brahms laughed, "When are they useful?" He frowned when Vincent shot him a glare.

"Okay, no joking, though not a joke, Look, I'll get Princess later and us three can go around asking for her, okay. I'll even ask my drama teacher to put pressure on the campus police."

Vincent nodded a weak defeated nod.

His hope had been diminishing day by day. He missed class and called into work. The past five days were spent on you, finding you, wanting you back in his arms. The sick feeling in his gut knew you were being held by him...the other half of him.

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

You sat on the bed, your clothes back over your, the warmth they offered little comfort.

"Okay, Sweets, we're gonna get going, alright?" He nudged your shoulder.

"I need to get back to class, Bo. I need to finish my degree." You said lifelessly as if on autopilot.

"You will don't worry." He kissed the crown of your head, inhaling your scent. "Sweets you smell so damn good. So clean for her Daddy."

Your throat felt tight, the urge to barf suppressed as you pinched yourself.

"Why did you cheat on me?"

Bo looked down at you, head cocked, "Cheat on you?"

"Yes."

"I never cheated on you."

"Don't fucking lie to me, Bo!"

He stepped back, hand running over his bandaged cheek. He composed himself, leaning over you, "You better watch your tone." He growled.

The past five days had gotten to you, a resentment, and anger bubbled to the surface, "You date me, Cheat on me, on valentine's day. And you expect me to never be angry, never be upset. And you get mad when I cheat on you. fuck you, Bo. I meant nothing to you. You're nothing to me."

You screamed as Bo shoved you down onto the bed, his large hands pressed hard into your arms, he huffed above you, "Nothing to me? Did I not just spend the last five days lovin' you? Being intimate with you? Shared the most wonderful experience two people together could experience together?"

He shook you as you failed to answer, "Hm? That Valentine's day meant everything to you. This meant everything to you." Bo kissed your tears, gritted his teeth and he shook your head under him.

Bo cheated, he knew this. Knew why he cheated. Self-sabotage as always.

How could someone so sweet, caring, friendly, and loving as you fall for him, why would you? Bo was awful, downright awful, his own parents even said so.

"You'll see, Sweets, you'll see our love grow within you."

You sobbed under him, you murmured Vincent's name, repeating it over and over, as if you said it enough he'd burst through the door, saving you from Bo's hell.

#Bo sinclair #Bo Sinclair x reader #Bo sinclair x you #Bo sinclair imagine #Vincent sinclair #brahms heelshire #house of wax 2005 #smut #Lemon #Dark fic

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carriagelamp · 3 years

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I read more books this month than I anticipated. I should probably wait before doing a February book round up, but I already feel like I’m struggling to decide which ones to cut from my list so I’m doing it this weekend instead of next. If I read much next week I’ll bump ‘em up into March’s round up

Asterix and the Missing Scroll / Chieftain’s Daughter

I got the last two “new” Asterix books out of the library so I could officially say I had read them all. Over all my opinion is… they’re fine! None of these would ever become one of my favourites, but they’re all fine stories. The art is good, it is completely in-line with the original, and the stories are… fine. I liked The Missing Scroll quite a bit more than The Chieftain’s Daughter but I never find a ~hurr hurr teenagers~ plotline that interesting, whereas I do enjoy seeing Romans get chased down by unicorns so that’s probably not surprising. There’s some spark I can’t put my finger on that the new Asterix books just seem to be missing though… a bit of humour or cleverness or something. Still, they’re fine reads if you’ve been hungry for more Asterix and I’m glad I read them. (Though the library gave me the American translation of The Chieftain’s Daughter, something I didn’t realize until I started reading and realized that this is wrong??? I’ve been reading these books since I could read and I know this is wrong??? What the hell is happening??? The I realized the publisher was different and I simmered in fury the whole time I read it — WHY ARE YOU CHANGING NAMES AND WORD CHOICES IN A WELL ESTABLISHED SERIES THAT ALREADY HAS AN ENGLISH TRANSLATION YOU ANIMALS WHY ARE YOU DUMBING DOWN THE LANGUAGE AAAUGH

The Bride Was A Boy

This one was cute! The Bride Was A Boy is an autobiographical manga written by a transwoman recounting her experience with transitioning, meeting her boyfriend, and eventually getting married. It’s mostly done in a 4-panel style and is interspersed with lots of information about the LGBT community, particularly in Japan. A lot of it was stuff I was already familiar with, but I still found it adorable and a very worthwhile read. it would be a fantastic book for young queer people who are looking for more of an introduction into international queer space

Cul de Sac: Children At Play

Cul de Sac is just a weird, fun newspaper comic series about the children who live in a small neighbourhood. It fully taps into the children-as-semi-feral-chaos-agents, and there’s something hilariously nostalgic about the whole thing. Lots of times when stories try to portray children there’s always something… wrong about it, something that doesn’t mesh with true childhood, but in this comic I can see glimpses of my grimy, dirty-covered self as a preschooler running around the pages. I would definitely recommend trying them!

The Cremation of Sam McGee

I reread The Cremation of Sam McGee and The Shooting of Dan McGrew and man, they don’t stop being buckwild. These are two really famous Canadian poems that were then illustrated by equally famous Canadian artist Ted Harrison. Harrison’s style is gorgeous and distinct and given what strangely grisly stories these poems are they fit the mood perfectly. Everything feels just a little tilted and wrong and unsettling. If you enjoy an occasional poem (especially ones that are super fun to read out loud) and haven’t read these before, I would recommend them! Or do what my teachers did, and read Sam Gee to a young child in your life and watch them be baffled and concerned and horrified.

There are strange things done / in the midnight sun / by the men who moil for gold...

The Gryphon’s Lair

The second book of the Royal Guide to Monster Slaying series written by Kelley Armstrong; I’ve been eagerly awaiting this book! It’s a very cool fantasy series because it really leans into environmental stewardship and the importance of studying animals and conservation so you can find ways to live alongside a healthy ecosystem. In this book Rowan is officially accepted as the Royal Monster Hunter, which means a whole new set of trials and burdens. She has to contend with a baby gryphon that is becoming increasingly large and dangerous, plotting family members, doubt about her abilities, a potential curse, and a daunting quest deep into the mountains in order to set things right. If you’re looking for some very gentle high fantasy, this series delivers.

Hogan’s Heroes comics

What to say here. Anyone following this blog has suffered the knowledge that I’ve been rewatching Hogan’s Heroes lately. When I found out that there was a short-lived, shitty comic series in the 60s? Of course I had to hunt them down. And so I’ve read them! And they sure were a shitty comic series from the 60s! They were, shall we say, of wildly varying quality. Some were actually really funny (like #5, it easily had the best art and best jokes imho), others were a slog, and most were fine and amusing enough to read the whole way through but not much more.

If you don’t know what Hogan’s Heroes is about: it was a 1960s sitcom that took place in a WWII POW camp, in which the Allied prisoners trapped there had a massive, complex sabotage/spy ring right underneath the camp. The whole show is about constantly outwitting the bumbling Germans while keeping up the pretense that they’re all just normal prisoners. The show is hilariously funny and I would recommend that, even if I can’t say the same for the comics unless you’re like me and are just really thirsty for more content...

Magic Misfits: The Fourth Suit (Ripley)

The final book of Neil Patrick Harris’ middle grade series, The Magic Misfits. In this fourth book, the group is fragmented and forced to meet in secret to avoid notice from the mysterious and powerful Kalagan whose cruel machinations have already turned the quiet little town on its ears, putting people’s lives in peril and destroy Leila’s fathers’ magic shop. The Misfits are going to need all their skills to finally unmask this sinister magician and break the mesmerism he seems to have placed over the entire town before it’s too late to save no only the town, but their friendship and trust.

Super charming series, and the illustrations are gorgeous.

Marsupilami

HOUBA! I watched a very bad TV adaptation of this as a kid that still managed to find a place in my heart, and so I decided to finally try reading some of the original comic! On one hand: it was exactly what I had hoped! The art is cute, the marsupilami is so dynamic and fun to see on the page (and has a way better characterization than he does in the show), and it’s really funny! Unfortunately! It is also pretty racist! Yikes! That seems to be a reoccuring downfall for some of these older Belgian comics... I also tried reading the first book of Les Tuniques Bleues and aye ye ye… I couldn’t actually get through that one. That being said, these were older volumes and frankly, North American media was also real fucking racist at that point so I’m not gonna write them off either. I really liked most of this book, and will probably try to get my hands on one of the more recent volumes of both Marsupilami and Les Tuniques Bleues to see if they get better with time. (If you’ve read either of those series and have volume recommendations hmu)

The Pagemaster

I’m a sucker for novelizations, I have no excuse beyond that. I recently rewatched The Pagemaster and decided to read the chapter book. And it was a solid little adaptation! It’s about Richard Tyler, a young boy with a head for statistics which unfortunately means he lives in constant fear of (in his opinion, statistically likely) injury or death. However that fear is put to the test when he gets caught in a horrible thunderstorm and has to shelter in a nearby library with halls and shelves that stretch beyond the imagination and with untold perils hidden among the pages of the books. Richard, with only his library card and three novels that hope to be checked out, has to venture through the different genres and horrors housed int he library if he ever wants to find the exit and get home to safety.

Pumpkinheads

A very charming little graphic novel. Cute art, and really loveable characters. Josiah and Deja work every year at a local pumpkin patch, and are best friends during those weeks. However this is their last year working there before going off to university and as the last day at the patch comes to a close they realize that they both still have regrets. Deja sets off on a mission to avoid work, eat all the interesting snacks around the patch, and get Josiah to find the girl he’s been crushing on every year and has never worked up the nerve to talk to.

After being deprived of human contact for almost a year, this book really hits you right in the heart.

The Screwfly Solution

A deeply upsetting scifi/horror short story! I read it on the recommendation of a friend and, yes, can confirm that this fucked me up a bit. I honestly don’t even know what to say about this that wouldn’t spoil it, but frankly with everything being as it is, this hit a little bit too close to reality. (That being said, it was very well written, like this is a very good story on a literary level and it does exactly what it sets out to accomplish.) If you feel like reading twenty pages and being really disturbed, give it a go! Otherwise go and read any number of the much happier books on this list!

The Whipping Boy

This was a book I remember reading as a lit circle book back in elementary school and really loving. After telling myself I’d reread it for years, I finally sat down with it again. If you somehow got through school without reading this one, it’s about a brat of a prince and his whipping boy — since it would be unspeakable to strike a prince, when the prince misbehaves it is Jemmy who gets whipped. Unsurprisingly, there is no love lost between the two of them, because the prince is always intentionally causing problems that Jemmy has to suffer for. Things begin to change though when the prince decides to run away and drags Jemmy along with him. On the run, being chased by highwaymen, and desperately trying to hide their identities, these boys go on a fast-paced adventure beyond the castle walls. It wasn’t as special as I remembered it being as a kid, but it’s a fine little chapter book.

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goldenpinof · 5 years

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so basically here’s a script of “Basically I’m gay” by Daniel Howell, if someone needs it

link to a google doc

Hello Internet.

«Sex! Secrecy! And a whole lot of internal screaming. Starring Daniel Howell. One of the greatest mysteries of our generation. What is Dan’s sexuality?»

Spoiler alert. I’m not straight. Sex, the foundation of life and the only thing we’re really supposed to do. Everyone’s obsessed with it. You bunch of degenerates. In the list of things that identify a person, one of the most important for other people to know is their sexuality. For, if sex is the primal force propelling all of these humans forward by their hips, they have to know. Are we gonna fuck? Or like could we? Or are you, ‘cause I’m just wondering. Now, we live in a heteronormative world, which is a long scary word that makes people feel attacked for some reason. Shh it’s okay.

What it means is people are presumed to be straight. If you’re not, then at some point, you have to “come out”, which is a whole thing. Or people might just try and guess based on something you do or the way you act, because yay stereotypes. So this is something you have to be clear on, because if you’re not, how are all these other people that aren’t you going to cope? But I’m pretty sure no one that knows me thinks I’m straight. So I don’t really need to come out as much as just clarify what the hell is going on. As here I am at age 27 and my sexual preference is seemingly still a vague, debatable, confusing, impenetrable mystery. But why? And what is it? Well, those are some big questions. Are you sure you wanna know my answers?

[YES]

Okay, well, if you say so 'cause this is a complicated and sensitive issue and when it comes to me, boy, there is a lot to unpack here and it is a total clusterfuck. So strap yourselves in and let me tell you a queer little story about a boy named Dan.

Chapter 1 – The Word

♪ When I was a young boy ♪

♪ My father ♪

Didn’t have much time for me because my conception was clearly an accident and he was a narcissistic proud man suddenly inconvenienced in the prime of his life and this emotional neglect gave me lasting problems.

Sorry that’s not all relevant right now.

I was an only child for seven years and with working parents. This meant I had to make my own fun so I was imaginative and loud which is something that my teachers used to say quite a lot followed by, “However.” Here I am age five. Look at me. Cute, poised, sassy, turning out this photo shoot like sorry, Grandma, I stunted on this set. Are you seeing this? In almost every way, I literally peaked age five. I loved being the center of attention. People said I had an infectious happiness, that my beaming smile brought them hope and joy. People that know me are laughing right now. But a boy, in the '90s being happy and generally polite acting? Sounds kinda GAY if you ask me. Literally, masculinity was so fragile, people were so proud and scared and society so aggressive that a boy smiling!?.. appearing to be empathetic or in any way emoting was seen as a threat. How dare they laugh and feel comfortable? They must be soft and weak and girly and GAY. So basically thanks, Grandma, for raising me to be a nice child, you dick. Just kidding. That’s a joke and I told you not to watch this video because it would be rude so if you send me a disappointed text telling me you’re offended, I don’t know what to tell you. Although, now I think about it, you did make me go to church for 10 years, which in hindsight probably also didn’t help ♪ Hallelujah ♪ the issue here so. But then it was time for little Dan to go to school and this is when it

♪ All went wrong ♪

'Cause it turns out most children, evil pieces of shit. Doesn’t matter if you try to raise a happy innocent child, throw that kid into school, aka, a literal Mad Max Battle Royale with the feral offspring of your local community. Yeah, that crap’ll be undone in about two weeks. I was six years old running around the playground pretending to be Sonic the Hedgehog or something when two brothers come up to me aged seven and eight with an unexplained aggressive look in their eye. And the younger one pushes me to the ground, kicks me in the stomach, and just says, “GAY.”

This was the first time I ever heard that word. Well, I don’t know what the heck gay means but apparently it means people kick you on the floor so that ain’t good. I didn’t know this child or give them any cause to have an opinion on me. And, actually, I never directly interacted with them again. What epic clustershit of failed parenting and general culture brought this tiny child to get angry and attack someone, then call them gay for looking like they were having fun outside. Are you okay, 1990s? And so my relationship with sexuality began.

I wasn’t looking to define myself as a child indiscriminately playing doctors and nurses with various friends until once somebody’s mum walked into a room to find three fully naked children sat on a bed sticking sellotape to each other’s butts. Yep, which I don’t recommend. Also, Jesus Christ, the poor woman that saw that. Then you get to the magic age around 10 or 11 where everybody suddenly wants to pretend they’re totally a “cool teenager” who’s doing all the drugs and the sex and the fights, totally. Boy, gay was a really popular word back then.

[[Boy] Uh, homework is gay. [Girl] Uh, my mum’s so gay. [Boy] Uh, you touched a girl, gay.]

This one little shit who I won’t name was one of the school bullies and he loved the word gay. He had it in for me and I have no idea why. You know me, Mr. Winnie the Pooh Meets Slender Man. Well, when I was 10 just Winnie the Pooh. I didn’t do nothin’ to no one ever and yet this guy used my pacifism as a punching bag where any group situation was an excuse to single me out call me gay for some reason and then make everyone else exclude me because they were scared of him. I had a girlfriend. We dated for six whole weeks. We kissed in a game of spin the bottle once by literally sucking on each other’s faces. Then she ended dumping me over speakerphone at a birthday party that everyone in my class but me was invited to but, hey. I don’t know what I was doing wrong, but at this age, I understood one thing. Being gay, whatever that meant, was clearly the worst thing you could be. On a Darwinian level, I was being told, okay bitch, “Survival Code”. Don’t be this apparently. Evolution. Plot twist, this bully I think he was a bit gay because once he asked me to have a sleepover at his house and I thought was me finally getting socially accepted only for him in the middle of the night to come up and ask me, “So who’s going to be the boy and the girl?” I was an innocent smol bean who didn’t really understand what he meant because, to be honest, I didn’t actually understand get how babies were made yet. But needless to say I think he was disappointed. Wow, closeted child turns into homophobic bully. Thanks again society. But this whole primary school journey was really just an amuse-bouche for the full six-course tasting menu of suffering that would be secondary school.

I went to an all-boys school. It was a literal hellscape. I thought it was hard making it through a school of 200 kids with two or three bullies. Try over a thousand where a clean 800 are fully psychopathic gorillas fueled by testosterone, Red Bull, and Eminem albums. Making sure that the word f- no longer means an innocent bundle of sticks or a cigarette anymore in the British lexicon. Nope, now it was a cool homophobic slur along with gay, gaylord, gayboy, puff, pufter, ponce, batty, batty boy, bum-boy, bender. Shit, this is so long. People have a lot of words for something they don’t wanna think about. Look at me in this stupid blazer. Oh, “you’ll grow into it at some point in the next four years”. Thanks, Mum. Day one, kid in form class, some stupid hedgehog-looking motherfucker side eyes me and says, “What you lookin at, puff?” First interaction at a new school. Great! My entire existence on a daily basis then becomes navigating this school like I’m in the bloody “Maze Runner” trying to avoid aggressive pricks with chode ties. And you know being verbally abused for being a nerd or a Greebo at least felt relevant to me at the time. Greebo, definitely one of my faves there and I’m sure that Korn and Slipknot would have been proud to have 12-year-old me as a fan. I kinda knew who I was in the hierarchy at that point. I was essentially a theater kid who spent all of his free time playing Runescape on the AOL browser on his mum’s PC instead of football. I accepted it. But at least I wasn’t actually this “gay thing” people kept throwing around because by now I understood a gay is a boy who fancies other boys. And to be honest I don’t really feel like I’ve ever fancied anyone before.

Then puberty happened.

Oh yeah, this is fun, tingly feelings, I smell bad. It was quite fun dribbling on this girl’s face playing Truth or Dare, maybe later we’ll go behind that bike sheds and, there I was sat in English class, my friend next to me. I watched as he delicately removes a pencil from its case. We briefly make eye contact as he flutters his long black eyelashes with a blink before staring forward. His eyes are so bright and beautiful yet they seem so sad and deep with emotion. I wish I could just understand. Oh fuck, I think I’m a bit gay. You’re telling me this whole time I actually have been the bad thing that people keep calling me? Shit!

Chapter 2 – Feelings

Oh do you hear it that faint hum, something coming from a deep, dark place too powerful to control? It’s the self-hatred. She is here and she’s only getting started. Short version, I fall hopelessly in love with a friend of mine who doesn’t feel the same way which crushes me into a million tiny pieces and years later actually it turns out he was gay the whole time. He just really specifically didn’t like me. [Double kill.] Here I am, 13, crying to evanescence alone in my bedroom feeling like there’s no point in really being alive as I’m clearly a faulty outcast person that has no place in the world. I stopped going to church with my grandma because I felt like I wasn’t really supposed to be there. Also, by this age, the whole Christianity thing didn’t really make much sense to me. And the adult services were dry AF compared to coloring in a picture of Jesus’s face at Sunday school. So other than the free tea and biscuits they gave away after the sermon, religion didn’t really have much to offer me. Damn, there was some good biscuits though. I miss that. But wait! All is not lost yet. Do you see that? A triumphant, rallying cry of guitars, stripey hoodies, and black hair dye. Emo had arrived! I swear to God, emo is one of the best things that happened to pop culture in the last 20 years. As well as inventing eyeliner and skinny jeans, a new word hit the theater, nerd, goth, band, kid corner that would change my world forever.

Bisexual. You can be normal and gay at the same time and some people think it’s cool? Well, slap a long fingerless glove on my arm and sign me up to Myspace 'cause Mum, I’m bi. It was a good term 'cause it was a catchall for anyone who felt sexually confused or curious that didn’t want to commit to something stronger which is very me. Big commitment issues. Thanks, fam. To be clear, regardless of whatever the 2006 teenagers thoughts and feelings were, being bi is valid and should not be excused away or erased by anyone. Thank you.

From this moment, I was a loud and proud raving bi to my close friends and the strangers on the internet who saw my clearly-labeled sexual preference on my Myspace page. And the emo friends I made at this time were awesome. We just used to hang and make out with each other and listen to music and drink bottles of Smirnoff Ice until we were sick on each other with no judgment. The judgment came several years later looking back at the photos that you can’t delete. So I didn’t need to tell my family or people at school anything. But the thing is with a Myspace page, anyone with an internet connection can read it. And so the rumors started spreading through my neighborhood that Dan Howell was in fact a bisexual. I had a friend in French class who one day, totally unprompted, just turned to me and said, “Hmm, yeah, I thought so. You give off a bi-vibe.” A bi-vi-, what the fuck is a bi-vibe? Great, yeah, nothing to make a 15-year-old feel self-conscious about his behavior like being told he emanates a bisexual aura. What am I supposed to do with that? Sorry that I give off mixed signals. I’m versatile. Turns out it was actually a social upgrade from being called gay all the time 'cause bisexual was a new word that only referred to sexuality so people actually had to decide how they felt about the fact I was attracted to boys. As opposed to gay which as we all understand is synonymous with bad and also implies a general threat, plague, curse/evil force that simply must be destroyed. People at school were actually almost nice to me with curiosity about it and a few of the boys that previously loved to just generically call me gay while throwing a compasses at me or something, now started to low-key flirt with me and some stuff happened. Go figure.

But then I entered the dark ages and no I’m not talking about my hair because I was never actually cool enough to commit to dying it black. As quickly as they arrived into my life, my emo friend group vanished into the night. Like the tip of an eyeliner pencil snapping or the HTML on your intricately-crafted MySpace page falling apart when the host websites of your embedded gifs die, so, too, did my social life. One had to suddenly focus on school, another moved town, two of them just fell out with each other and started hanging out with their old friends again. Well, we don’t all have back up friend groups, Lindsey! I went all in on the emos! You’re telling me I have to go back to sitting in my kitchen playing Runescape now! Thanks a lot. So for a year I literally had no friends. And this is when the bullying at school really stepped its pussy up. The things people used to say offhand to me in a corridor were now said loudly in classrooms where everybody would laugh. People used to sing songs about me being gay on the bus while my fellow nerds sat around me just stared awkwardly out of the window not wanting to get involved. People shouted things out during GCSE exams in front of the whole school and the low key pushing became punches. People used to wait for me after school just to throw things at me. Once a guy put his hand around my throat and pushed my head against a coat peg in the locker room while everyone was watching and just slapped me for five minutes. But I never reacted. I never cried or got angry or fought back 'cause then I’d be giving them what they wanted and I refused to play along. But this way of dealing with things definitely had an impact on my relationship with emotion going into life. I became a total outcast. No one wanted to come near me out of fear that they’d get targeted, too. So no one ever stood up for me. And, you know, I don’t blame them. I just resent them even to this day. No, I’m kidding, I don’t really. I do. No, I don’t. I, hmm. Teachers at the time obviously did nothing. In fact, one of them saw this happening to me and laughed 'cause you know, boys will be boys especially the gay ones that get killed by the other ones, am I right? Ah, classic lad banter. And home. See, keeping this on the topic of sexuality and not economic class, violence, addiction, and health issues, let’s just say some shit was goin’ down. I didn’t think I could ask my family for help or share my feelings about this, mainly due to my dad. Funny guy, kind of a woke hippie who did and said a lot of things I did respect but at the same time used to walk around the house saying how he hoped someone he had a problem with at work would *clears throat* “die of bum cancer.” Yep, so picked the one area to be a bigot that would further traumatize your child. Nice! This experience coming from a childhood hearing the word gay meaninglessly thrown around as an insult at home and school, in music, on TV, to then realizing I am actually kinda gay, to then very specifically being attacked for it was traumatic. The world was clearly telling me if I ever wanted to be accepted by anyone or, in my particular environment, survive, I couldn’t be gay. I was afraid of it, literally homophobic of myself. I am talking Pavlov, sunken place, North Korea-level mind alteration that made me terrified of and repulsed by this part of me. This is called internalized oppression. It’s a real thing and it’s some real shit.

Chapter 3 – Internalized Oppression

From this moment I was no longer advertising myself as bi. No, BRB deleting that Myspace real quick, xD lemme get on that Bebo. “My Chemical Romance”? No, I’m listen to what’s this, N-Dubz? Jesus Christ. I go away for the summer break and come back to school quiet and serious and fully straight. *coughs* I needed me some new friends that were a bit higher up the social ladder, you know what I’m sayin’ for security so I go ahead and join “The Inbetweeners”. Literally this group of friends, the exact middle ground between nerds and desperately wanting to be cool. And oh how desperate we were. The great thing about these friends was they knew loads of girls. So firstly, instant cool points. Secondly, if I date a girl *scoffs* super not gay. The problem with that was it’s not like everyone just forgot everything that’s been said about me and this group of friends, casually homophobic pretty much all the time and also they hung out in places near some even more aggressive and super homophobic peeps. Just full-time Runescape would have been a better in hindsight. I find myself going through the same shit at school but now voluntarily going through it at the weekends from the people that are supposed to be my friends thinking I’m doing the right thing whilst constantly telling myself I’m now totally heterosexual. So I did what many people choose to do at that point and I got a girlfriend. But this is pretty messed up because I really liked this girl. In fact, I loved her as a friend and I was genuinely attracted to her but I was so afraid of sexuality I didn’t even wanna do anything straight in case I had some weird gay panic that I was totally frigid and I led her on. And when she got pissed at me, understandably, for being a terrible boyfriend, I just felt even worse. This was someone who I liked that I was hurting and lying to but I couldn’t leave as then I’d have no armor. Beautiful irony here is having a girlfriend didn’t in any way stop the abuse 'cause remember, gay is a great all-purpose general insult. (Call someone gay today and we’ll throw in a free set of steak knives.) And when these neighborhood teens started heavy drinking and getting into drugs, things suddenly got quite scary as people joked about setting fire to a tent as I slept in it at Reading Festival. Or saying, “You know that notoriously unstable guy? Yeah, he said he’s gonna kill you next Saturday.” Awkward.

This was definitely the lowest point in my life. I just felt totally alone, confused and I deeply hated myself. I used to ask God, in case he was there, to please, just make me straight and everyone stop. But I saw no end, no escape, no way to change the world or who I was. So one evening I thought fuck it and I attempted suicide.

I say attempted, because just before it was too late I thought

“oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit what have i done what have i done fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck?”

“what will your grandma think don’t do this to her she tried her best and she loves you”

“your family aren’t total dicks and this will fuck them up can’t you just get over it surely”

“you’re gonna get to the last year of school and give up now really what was the point”

“I heard this is one of the most painful ways to die so not a great choice if I’m being blunt”

Felt kinda bad for a few days otherwise I pretended it never happened and I didn’t tell anyone, until now, literally. Hmm, I know pretty dark right, but hey spoiler things kinda worked out. I mean still gotta lot of issues but here I am. I’m so glad I failed for so many reasons, for the people in my life, for the future I would’ve wasted. The most important being that I thought I was trapped in a situation forever when in reality, the entire world I lived in and my life changed completely. I thought it was hopeless when in reality there was so much to hope for and that’s it. Time changes everything. With the lives that we have, we can try anything we’ve dreamed of. I want anyone that’s ever felt like this to realize you are never trapped. There is always hope. You just need to believe in yourself and get to the other side. So yeah school age 6 to 18, I’m gonna give that a bad Google review. The thing is I did stand out. I’ve always been a loudmouth, class clown, annoying shit. Since graduating, it turns out half the people I knew were fuckin’ gay. That group of friends I had, all lovely people now. Five of them were gay, five gays! That is statistically irregular. Oh but they flew under the radar. All I’m saying is I wish people just hated me for being annoying and immature. Leave the gays alone!

My light at the end of the tunnel was university. I was gonna get my A levels move to a new town and ghost these bitches. But I took a gap year first to earn some money which was very boring sitting at home and working at ASDA where I was not happy to help. My shift started at 5 a.m. on a Saturday. Signed up for a Twitter account to run my mouth off and then bam. “So my name is [Dan].” My YouTube story begins, a new chapter of my life to redefine. So you know what I do? Get a Formspring because nothing gives you that attention feeling like one of those anonymous question and answer websites that are inherently toxic and no one should use. And straight out of the bat bisexual Dan returns. 'Cause hey, just like Myspace, I’m only telling a few people on the internet right now. It’s not like one day I’m gonna get so many followers that random strangers and my family might see it. Wow, I had a lot fun with many different kinds of people in 2009. Let’s just say I got a lot out of my system. Got a couple of things in my system, too. Sorry.

And this is when, through the magic of the internet, I met Phil. And obviously we were more than friends but it was more than just romantic. This is someone that genuinely liked me. I trusted them. And for the first time since I was a tiny child, I actually felt safe. And the relationship we formed at that point was something that I needed in my life. We are real best friends, companions through life, like actual soulmates, not that souls are a real thing that exist. It’s so lucky to just find someone you can be that compatible with and especially to anyone that has experienced the kind of self-hatred that I have dealt with, one person accepting you can make all the difference. And I bet so many people wanna know so much more about that which, honestly, I take as a compliment. But here’s the thing. I’m somebody that wants to keep the details of my personal life private. So is Phil. I know lots of people these days, thanks to social media, want to share and monetize every aspect of their life and then as soon as something changes suddenly it’s this huge drama because everybody got invested in the story of your life like it’s a soap opera. I don’t want that. I wanna do certain things without an audience. I wanna be spontaneous. I don’t wanna feel afraid to take risks. I want to enjoy totally fucking something up and not have to post a statement about it. And if anyone thinks people really have to share these things about their life, you need to rethink your position. And look, I understand that sex is a fun and interesting thing to talk about. I get it. I am also a disgusting pervert. But the specific minutiae of who I be fuckin’, when, why, where, how long, how, uhh, I mean? Sexuality is a general fact that it can be very useful to know about a person for several reasons, but we can’t force people to disclose that either. We don’t know this person’s life story, what they’ve been through, if they haven’t told people, if they’ll lose their job, if they’re in danger. There are so many reasons someone might not be open about it. We can preach the message that being out is good, but aggressively speculating or trying to out someone is really bad. They might not be gay, in which case we’re just harassing someone and probably stereotyping. And if they are there’s gonna be a reason why they haven’t talked about it. So I don’t wanna see any responses to me finally talking about this like no one is surprised. “Dan we been knew.” Wow, you huge galaxy brain genius. What’s it like walking around with all those brain cells in there working overtime? What, you got like three in there? Don’t lose your balance, mastermind. I haven’t exactly been subtle have I? I’m an awkward, sexually ambiguous nerd. “What the fuck even is your sexuality?” That’s not the point. I’m already dead inside so it doesn’t matter here, but to me if someone’s reaction to a person coming out is just, “yeah, I knew”, they’re showing no empathy towards the issue or that person. They’re just making it about themselves like it was a fun piece of gossip they already knew. All we have to do is listen and be accepting.

So anyway back to the tale. Whilst things were looking up for Dan aged 18, things quickly got messy again. Wow, that beats the emo streak of temporary self-acceptance by like six months, nice. There was a point around 2011 where the relationship with my audience shifted from what felt like direct communication between me and individuals that just saw me as a comedy creator to communities of people that formed to talk about me when I wasn’t there. Which is fine, but for some people it was about getting generally invested in me and my real life which I thought was a bit strange 'cause inevitably like anyone who puts themself out there, some people started to really dig into my private life to find out information about me that I wasn’t ready to share. And this was around the same time that YouTubers finally started to get mainstream recognition in the British press. We had the BBC knocking at our door trying to offer Dan and Phil a radio show. From that, Dan and Phil became this entertainment duo that we could have a creative career with. And we love working together, so when all these opportunities came for Dan and Phil, we were really excited but I was also scared as people clearly knew I wasn’t straight and I hadn’t told my family that. None of my old friends knew about this, and what me and Phil had was ours and personal and yet some people were trying to get access to it for their own satisfaction. It was no longer a few people on the internet, no big deal. So I just shut down. It felt like I was back at school again, surrounded by threatening people trying to expose me for their entertainment. Most I’m sure just wanted what was best for me and I feel such genuine sadness and am sorry that I couldn’t be closer to and more truthful with the people in my life that were just trying to be nice but I wasn’t ready to deal with it at this time so I had to do something to contain it. I definitely sent some mixed messages. Some were just joking around, others were super defensive that in my panic came across like “I’m now telling everyone I’m totally straight” when all I really meant was “please fuck off and don’t invade my privacy, you creepy stalkers, thank you”. But this experience seriously triggered some PTSD in me and I was back in the dark place. I didn’t want to just disappear from the internet to escape it and throw away this creative hobby that actually started paying rent. Thanks. So I just decided to put anything to do with my sexuality in a box to come back to later as I was still processing my past and I wanted to understand my identity on my own terms and timeline and not just have it hijacked as fuel for people’s sexual fantasies or some headline in an article. And whilst we’re not exactly living in a utopia yet here on YouTube, the general internet culture only five or six years ago was a much less wholesome, progressive place as this little bubble is now. Sure, a lot of people probably would have been supportive, but there was just as much open bigotry and general toxicity 'cause people felt less accountable and it was okay to say certain things 'cause it’s just on the internet and I couldn’t handle that at the time. And, generally, I can handle a lot. I have big hands with a very wide reach for playing piano, you fucking.. get your mind out of the gutter. We can’t ask people to just put their lives on hold to address their sexuality first. If a kid dreams of being a footballer and age 18 gets signed to a club and all their dreams come true but they’re scared to come out because of the insane homophobia in that community, they shouldn’t turn it down. Yes, it’s so important to be truthful about who you are and open and proud in front of the world but it’s our society’s fault that these people are scared to say who they are. So let’s all focus on making it a welcoming place and people will come out when they are ready. So when was I ready? Well, it’s always been on my mind that I need to talk about this at some point. I couldn’t just keep going forward in my life ignoring it, not only just so I can be authentic, which is very important for general existing, but also just letting people know what kind of sexual attention I want from the world. All of it from everyone. God I’m so thirsty. And if anything motivated me, it’s the idea that I can help someone else 'cause that’s basically my whole career, isn’t it, admitting to shit that I’ve been through so you will feel better about yourselves. There we go, you’re welcome. I have a platform and a following of millions of people, many of whom I know have been through exactly what I have. And if I tell my story as painful and flip floppy and flawed as it is, I know it will mean something to someone as every time someone speaks openly about sexuality, it saves lives. I’d never met a single out gay person until I was 18. And if I had, or even just seen better representation in the media, I wouldn’t have felt so totally alone. I wouldn’t even be saying this to you now if it wasn’t for TV shows, musicians, and public figures in the last couple years reinforcing this to me. It doesn’t matter if I was living the life privately as there was still so much confusion about my feelings and fear. But things are better now, on the internet, on TV, in my real life. It’s not perfect but it feels safe enough in this space right now for me to feel confident. So thank you, sincerely, to all the brave people that came before me and to any of you that made this world seem welcoming for me. And instead of procrastinating from this by focusing on work, which was a way for me to insure my own independence and survival in case I was rejected, or just doing things for other people to take my mind off it instead of asserting my own needs, which my therapist keeps telling me is one of my biggest problems. Here I am with a fresh void of time in front of me to fuck up however I want. Now look, we all have different experiences in life. Some of us are lucky, some of us not. It just so happened that the first 18 years of my life were horrendously shit. It failed me. But we get dealt cards from the start, too. If you look at my life, I was born into this world as an able-bodied, white, cis-man in Britain which immediately gives me so much privilege in this current world and I am fully aware of how much harder making it to today could have been for me, which is why we all need to stand up for equality and social justice even if it doesn’t apply to us. No one stood up for me when it mattered the most and that almost cost me everything. So if you see a woman being harassed, a gay being threatened, someone muttering something racist, say something, do something because if you’re still or silent, the victim will just think that you are against them, too. We all have a responsibility.

This tale was just some of the stuff relating to sexuality. We all have a whole sob story if we wanna tell it but I just wanted to explain the journey of how I got to this point and overcame the obstacles that tried to block this path. And now I’ve arrived.

Chapter 4 – Labels

Okay cool story, bro, it’s answer time. What’s your answer. Whaddayalikedafuk? Here’s the thing, you want me to talk candidly about sexuality as if it’s something that I understand? I don’t know what it is, why it is. Turns out no one knows. I’ve been sitting here for years waiting for scientists to just work it out like bleep bloop. [Oh this is why and exactly how it’s different for people. There we go.] Thinking I shouldn’t run off my mouth on the internet in case my theories and opinions on varying gayness get debunked next week. Well, I waited long enough and it didn’t happen. Science, ya fucked up, you let me down. And I fully expect to have to delete this video in two weeks when you find out all the answers suddenly. Thanks a bunch. What makes someone gay or straight or all the things in between? What the ever loving fuck is gender about? This is a mess. Yet people want you to give them a word because that’s how humans communicate with words that have meanings. Which is why our disgusting species is impatient, stupid, and obsessed with labels. And this applies to everything, sexuality, gender, political identity, what obscure genre of synthwave you listen to. People just want a label that represents something they understand so they already know how to feel about you and don’t have to bother thinking. [Oh you’re a feminist well I don’t need to know anything more. Oh you’re a leftist. Oh you’re a K-pop fan but but but but.] If people just want to find a way to disagree with you or dislike you, they can refer to the label and turn off their brains. Hey, what does my label say? Huh. The issue is, especially when we start talking about the writhing mass of confusion and suffering that is sexual and gender identity, the limits of language and specific terminology become a big problem. What does being gay mean? You never thought about a boob once? What does being a man mean? You wanna be an emotionless rock rubbing raw steaks against your biceps? It’s not like humanity is all in agreement right now. I don’t like the stereotypes and drama that come with all this terminology so I’m just not gonna use it. Thing is gender identity isn’t my issue. I feel comfortable with the identity that I’ve had my whole life. Dan, a tol boy from England. But being a man means nothing to me. I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable wearing makeup or a sickening pair of heels, though I can’t even draw in a straight line so that would be a disaster. Also is anyone really comfortable wearing heels? Hmm. Icons of masculinity aren’t really a big part of my life. Might as well call me a fucking formless blob that sounds more relatable. Shout out to all my formless blobs out there, rise up. I don’t have to do anything or be anything and I personally wouldn’t feel offended if I wasn’t referred to as a he. Well, she’s feeling hungry today. Stop fucking judging me, Susan. I’m sad and I’m gonna eat this whole damn cake whether you like it or not. But anyone that has this don’t really care attitude about their gender identity is in a way privileged 'cause some people, especially trans, care a lot about their gender identity and using the correct pronouns which other people should respect. Likewise with sexuality, whilst to me the endlessly increasing list of tribes and flags being flown is a bit daunting and confusing and personally stresses me out 'cause I almost find it constrictive, some people like it. Because if you’re feelings are confusing and then you look at a word that represents something and go, “wow, that me”, it can help you realize you’re valid and find a community and that’s great. There is so much controversy around this issue and others but if we all just calm down, respect each other’s experiences and try to just be nice, reasonable people, which is a lot to ask, let’s be real, it’s quite simple. If you wanna use language to express your honest feelings and identity, that’s great and other people should respect what you say. Likewise, if you hate labels and you just wanna be a formless blob, that’s fine, too. No one should force you. The only thing that isn’t cool is telling other people what they should or should not identify as 'cause that ain’t your problem or your business, bye. This was one of the things that held me back from talking about this for years. Shit’s confusing, man. Let’s just go back to cellular reproduction by mitosis so I don’t really have to be specific. Two people that I really look up to and respect, Harry Styles and Janelle Monae, both famously say that they don’t feel the need to label it which, to be honest, is how I feel and is perfectly okay. But I get it, for me, you want a word. Oh, that’s hard, though. I’m an annoying guy. I feel uncertain specifying my sexuality in the same way I wouldn’t say I am an atheist. Who the fuck am I to say whether God does or doesn’t exist? I don’t know shit 'bout shit and neither does anyone else. I mean I think it’s unlikely in the same way I know I like DICK. But I’m not gonna pretend to have a definite answer here. Looking at my public statements is inconsistent and confusing. Looking at my personal track record through life is super confusing. And looking at the void inside my soul threatening to crush the entire universe with the force of its event horizon of misery and melodrama, well, fuck let’s close that shit up. One thing’s for sure whatever heterosexual is, I ain’t it. Really if you ask me, I don’t think anyone’s totally straight. I think there’s a lot of social and emotional issues getting in the way of yet to be understood feelings of attraction that can be very flexible. And trust me, I’ve known a lot of straight guys until a couple of drinks, some deep conversation, and lingering eye contact, and suddenly they just start leaning in. What does that make them? And am I totally gay? No. Am I slightly more gay or is it just easier for gays to hook up with each other because of societal norms. It’s not like the signs for male and female bathrooms are what I’m attracted to. I don’t care what flesh organ you have between your legs, what your hair’s like, if you’re covered in it or a fuckin’ beluga whale. I’m gonna be honest, I’m not picky. I’m easy. So am I bi or pan or poly? Well, now we’re just in a clusterfuck of defining language and I’m confused and sad and horny. This is why I personally love the word queer. I understand that some people don’t as it is a slur but as someone that’s been the target of it several times throughout my life I’m up for some reclamation. It’s like recycling. The definition makes sense because until society is equal with all sexual and gender identifies, it is literally strange from a conventional viewpoint plus it’s better than a super long acronym, it’s inclusive of everyone and therefore great for formless blobs. There we go, an identity I feel comfortable with. A highly-strung, depressed queer praying for a giant meteor to hurry up and finally eradicate humanity. LMAO, yeet!

But to come full circle, I know that even today, deep in my heart the word gay scares me because that’s how I’ve been conditioned my whole life. So, you know what? Fuck the literal definition and the scientific definition and what everyone thinks. I finally have to just confront and accept this.

I’m gay.

Oh look, didn’t spontaneously fucking combust. Well, there we go, that was a lot of stress about nothing, wasn’t it? Bloody hell. So yup, I’m here, I’m queer, and don’t worry I’m still filled with existential fear.

WE’RE HERE, WE’RE QUEER WE’RE FILLED WITH EXISTENTIAL FEAR.

Chapter 5 – Fear

Even though I’m at this current place, there is still so much I’m afraid of and this has taken months to make because of that. Telling my family was a big fear. I have problems connecting with them emotionally because reasons. So I only came out to them this month and if it didn’t go well, as I’m now the independent adult that I fought so hard to be, I was ready to cut them off like the bottom of a sweater turning into a seasonal crop. But I didn’t have to, love you. I didn’t think they’d reject me these days but coming out is still a surprise. It changes things. And I’m a pretty awkward person generally but the idea of just dropping this in conversation in front of them all terrified me. And I tried several times this year to do it but I just couldn’t. So you know how I finally came out to my family? E-mail. Yep, I literally just sent them an e-mail saying and I quote,

“Hello gang. I’ve been meaning to talk to you all for a while, something quite important that should be disclosed at some point. I thought I would around Christmas, then Mum’s birthday, then last Easter Sunday, etc., but every time I meant to, I either felt like I would ruin the mood of the day or I just felt awkward and didn’t want to. So I decided just to email you all instead which is really inappropriate and just weird but that somehow seems appropriate for me and at least I’ll just finally say it.

Basically I’m gay.”

Yup. It was just getting ridiculous so I thought screw it and hey, it worked. Turns out my remaining family, pretty chill bunch of people. Even my Christian grandma said this,

“We love you for being you. It must be a great relief to finally acknowledge who you are. Popsie and I just want you to be happy. People are born as they are and have no say in it. I hope that now you will feel free to live your life as you want with no pretense.”

Aw.

“Don’t forget the iPad.”

Yes, I said I’d give her my old iPad. She mainly cares about that I thing. Wasn’t so sure when I was 17 but it went well now and I know that makes me lucky but, hey, it shows that times change. As for the other people in my life, obviously all the friends I have now are cool. If anyone in my life I’ve ever known isn’t cool with it then I don’t care. And sure here online there might be a few incredibly lost bigots following me or just some classic trolls who I think should get fucked. No, like literally, I think you should try it. You’ll probably enjoy it and you might learn something about yourself. Inevitably some of you watching this might have a weird reaction if you just feel like it was a shock or you feel hurt that I kept it from you. But I feel like I explained myself reasonably here and going forward I can’t have any space for that, sorry. I’ve come to terms with who I am and now you have to, too, ha. Funnily enough straight up homophobia is probably the one thing I’m not that afraid of, because I just don’t agree so it doesn’t hold much emotional power over me but you bet I’m opening myself up to all new kinds of in real life and international discrimination now which is fun. But one of the other big fears holding me back was, honestly, that I wouldn’t be accepted by the community. I know that it’s a big pride flag covering a lot of ground and even the idea of it and certainly most of it is amazing. But there is a lot of drama within it right now especially on the internet. You’ve got Grindr gays arguing about how manly gays should be, bi’s getting ignored, trans people, especially of color, not being historically appreciated, acephobia, fucking SWERFs and TERFs. No thank you. So even though they are my people, I know some of them will have problems with something. And even then, just seeing such a loud and proud, strong and opinionated group of people celebrating something just intimidates a smol introvert such as myself. And in my mind if these people don’t accept me because I’m not being definitive enough or I took too long then I almost feel like I’ll be alone all over again, and this is a fear that a lot of people have honestly. But I’m a nice guy and I’m trying my best so you better be welcoming, you bunch of fuckin’ queers. And obviously with the topic of sexuality, it doesn’t matter where we are or how far you think we’ve come, by merely mentioning it, I will be opening up a primordial box of bullshit which will include every single stupid argument and question since the dawn of time. [It’s not natural.] There’s gay animals. [Adam and Steve.] That’s based on a story and the protagonist that arrives later probably doesn’t agree with you. [Why can’t we have straight pride?] I could spend 10 hours on all the classic crap and people would still be asking the same things. This being posted on the internet, my hopes are so incredibly low, lower than my self-esteem. Wow, that is unhealthy. I need to stop doing that. This video is about internalized oppression and the problems of language. I’m not here to pontificate on every topic tangentially related to the entire concept of gayness. *ASMR voice*: Pontificate on every topic tangentially related to the concept of gayness.

There’s other humans and all the time in the world left for that. The time in the world coincidentally being not much longer. Climate change LMAO. But I had to tell my story so people would understand me and these things. Why coming out is still a big deal because queer people are often invisible and suffering until they have to do it. Some people grow up in supportive environments and it’s a positive experience. But more likely, especially around the world outside of the big cities, it isn’t. This is not a fight that is anywhere near over. Even in Britain today people are debating whether children should be taught to be accepting of sexual and gender identity in school.

Queer people exist. Choosing not to accept them is not an option.

To anyone watching this that isn’t out, it’s okay. You’re okay. You were born this way, it’s right, and anyone that has a problem with it is wrong. Based on your circumstance, you might not feel ready to tell people yet or that it’s safe and that’s fine, too. Just know that living your truth, with pride, is the way to be happy. You are valid. It gets so much better. And the future is clear. It’s pretty queer.

So there we go. Now I can proceed authentically in my life with full disclosure. Cute mutuals know to slide into the DMs. And you can all fuck off and leave me alone.

Bye.

#basically i'm gay #daniel howell #danielhowell #dan and phil #amazingphil #phil lester #yes im tagging i dont care #if there's a flaw somewhere (like a missed part or sm) dm me so i could fix it #id go through it again anyway but just in case #oh and it's literally just dan's substitles so all credits to him or whoever did that #hmm i wonder if they hired someone. interesting #have fun #the script

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it-lives-in-westchester · 4 years

Text

ILITW Fanfic

A/N: So PB crushed all of my hopes and dreams....which was also a great motivation for finishing this fanfic. This is how I personally think MC and Redfield!Noah first meeting went. It’s just filled with my own headcanons and such. Never published any fanfics here before, so please be gentle with me. Named MC Claudia because that is the name I gave her while playing.

Word count: 5272

Warnings: Some bad language and mentions of death/suicide.

The woods around the small town of Westchester, Oregon always had this eerie energy to it. Everyone knew about the wild animals that lived there, especially after the “feral animals” attacks last year. Even without the animal attacks during the homecoming dance at Westchester High, every generation could remember a tragic event that happened in those woods.

There are unmarked graves of people who were sacrificed in witch rituals. A sass suicide that happened in the 70s seemingly done by a creepy cult. Countless mysterious deaths that might have just been accidents or gruesome murders. More people one can count who walked into the woods and never came out again.

Claudia Harrington was well aware of the tragedies that have happened in the woods, after all, she had lived through two of them up close. Still kinda a miracle she survived both of those events, she was not sure if that was a blessing or not. Feeling more numb than ever and her insomnia getting worse than ever.

This was the 3. time this month she had tried to make a new system with the stuff in her room. Maybe she should listen to her mom more often with her having too much stuff in there. Opening one of her drawers, it was a pile of papers, that could have been from anywhere from a week ago or 5 years ago. She sighed deeply and started to make three different piles, one to keep, one that was just blank paper she could reuse and one to throw away. God, there was a lot of crap in there she noted.

Essays from High school, Reports of stuff, notes from Ava, drafts of short stories she had written, essays from her first year at college, checklists. Then something caught her attention. A handwritten letter, it was her handwriting she was sure of it.

"Happy Birthday!" was the first thing written on it. There were no memories she had written this. She continued reading it a bit curious.

"I can't believe you and Jane wou…." Claudia crumbled the piece of paper and threw it in the trash.

Now she remembered it was a stupid thing her consular said she should try. Writing letters to people that they would never read just say everything you wanted to tell them. Claudia did not feel like it helped a whole lot. She thought she had thrown them all away, guess she had not done that.

Continued to look through the paper pile. However, the “letter” she found earlier was the only thing that was on her mind. After a few minutes, she picked up the crumpled piece of paper from the trash and started to read for herself.

Happy Birthday!

I can’t believe you and Jane would have turn 18 today, I know kind of unbelievable, it seemed like it was just yesterday we believe turning 18 meant we were finally adults, oh how wrong we were right?

For being honest with you Noah I have no idea what to write here. This whole thing just feels wrong knowing you are not really gone. I just hope you are doing well, wherever you are.

You’re probably not, but hey I can pretend right?

Good wishes, Claudia.

After reading the whole thing Claudia swallowed a bit. She could not believe she had written this crap almost 2 years ago. Damn, it already been two years since it all happened? It still felt so fresh in her mind. It still stung, after finally reconnecting with Noah after years of not talking to each other. Feeling like things would be okay between them for the first time in a long while.

But then he had to throw all of that away, lying to her face about everything. Luring her and all of her friends to a messed up game of “Are you scared?”. Knowing full well it could end with death.

Oh, how she wished she could hate him for it, after all, he had threatened her with a knife and almost killed everyone because of sheer stupidity, but she could not do it. Still feeling terrible about the fate that Noah Marshall had met all those years ago in the ruins in the woods.

The "official" story about what happened to him, was that he had a mental breakdown because of unchecked mental illnesses and trauma with losing his sister at such a young age. Delusional and hurt going back to the unsafe caves where his sister died in a hope that it could bring her back. The cave collapsed with him inside and killed him.

It was dumb, but what else were the townsfolks of Westchester gonna believe. That the corrupt spirit of his sister manipulated him and then convinced it might be a good idea to sacrifice all of their friends in a hope to free her. Then sacrificing himself in the end so he could free her from that awful half-life she had been living for 10 years. Of course not. Sometimes Claudia even had a hard time believing it as the truth. Even though she witnessed it from start to finish. Still hoping she would see him again in the hallways at school during her senior year of high school.

It was still bothering her on some level that everyone, including her, was just to ignore it. Like everyone did last time after what happened to Jane. This time around they had decided to keep contact, but still.

It could all happen again, right? Some other stupid kids finding the ruins and getting the same life as Claudia and her friends had been living. No that could not happen. They had not fixed anything, it would come back. Maybe when they are 30 or something and has to deal with the consequences then.

Looking at the clock, it was around 04:45 am. Looking out of the window it was dark the only thing she could see was the snow on the ground that reflected the moon lightning. Maybe she should..no was she crazy?

Going back was the whole reason this all started again but at the same time. If she knew earlier that Redfield was gone and it was Jane, could she have prevented it? All that damage? All those deaths? Besides she was not tired so better do something that might be effective and not just scroll through social media till the sun came up, that had seemed to become a habit of lately.

Thank god her parents were gone for the weekend, so they did not have to question her on what she was doing at 05:00 am. Putting on her winter coat and boots while going outside to her backyard. Going past the tree Cody died in and then entering her shed.

It had been a while she had been inside the shed behind her house. An old flashlight that was her fathers was on a shelf, that could be useful. After picking up the that she noticed her bat, Barb lying against the wall. That might come in handy in case things went south like last time she thought, then she grabbed it before going out in the woods.

The woods had not changed over these past 2 years. Tall trees that made it impossible to see the night sky. Weird noises in a lot of places but certain areas where there was not a single sound you could hear. Having a weird feeling that someone or something was always watching you. It almost felt like for each step she took into the woods the heavy feeling in her chest became bigger. At least the snow on the ground made it easier to see where she was going, maybe the flashlight was not necessary.

Finally, she arrived at the clearing, this was here her, Ava, Andy, and Noah had found Dan in the woods, that seemed like it was forever ago.

Halfway to the ruins now, you can do it.

However when she was halfway through the clearing suddenly she heard a tree branch snap.

Almost just by instinct, Claudia turned around. What the hell was that noise? Behind her was nothing, maybe it was a bird or another small animal… c’mon Claudia that can’t be it. She took a better grip on her bat.

“Hello?” She said with a bit of uncertainty in her voice. Looking around between the trees, for something, anything. Nothing, just darkness looking back at her. Turning on her flashlight and she started to flash it between the trees like it would comfort her a lot more if she saw something like a deer. Even then the flashlight was old, maybe older than her, so it was not like it did help to see what was between the trees. She tried to listen if any more noises came, but nothing more happened. Nothing felt too of either. She dropped her shoulders a bit, hadn't even noticed how much tension she had put on them.

C'mon, I am not even there at the ruins yet, it just my mind playing tricks on me.

However, when she turned around to walk deeper in the woods she stopped. Two bright lights were staring right at her, with a dark shadow surrounding it, like ink spilling over. Her first reaction was to get away, far away. It was kinda a blur what happened next, it was just her acting on fear and panic at the moment. She was not even sure if she had screamed or not.

The next thing she could see was the stars filling the night sky with no clouds in sight. Claudia looked up trying to catch her breath. Had she fallen over? She tried to collect all of her thoughts in her head.

What the hell, what the hell, what the hell!? Okay just think.

What she had seen was what she thought, right? Wait that would mean…..

She bolted up, nothing was in front of her. No no-no-no. She frantically started to look around the place. It was real right? No hallucination or her lack of sleep made this up. She had seen it, what she had been looking for the reason she was even here in the first place.

Then she stopped looking around when she noticed the glowing eyes staring at her from behind a tree. When it saw that Claudia was looking at it, it came out of hiding. The glowing eyes belonged to a tall thin shadow creature. She noticed that it seemed to be floating a bit of the ground. The shape was like a man, with a head and arms. So from a distance, it would just look like that, a silhouette of a person. However, if you looked closer you could see that the arms were freakishly long with long sharp fingers at the end of them, and it was a lot taller than an average man.

"Hey" Rising from the ground and started to walk towards the shadow creature. "Didn't mean to do that, you just surprised me"

She noticed for each step she took the distance between them did not change. It took around five steps before she realized what was happening

For each step, she took forward the shadow took a step backward.

When she stopped walking so did the shadow creature.

"Okay then….I'll just stand here then, good for you?"

Planting her feet on the ground. Redfi...Noah was also standing still now. On the other side of the clearing. Just looking at her while holding a hand towards his "jaw". Not much of a conversation.

Guess I have to be the one to break the ice.

"Hello….how are you doing?" That made her cringe in an instance, oh Jesus Christ what kinda question was that. This was also the first time it dawned on her that she had no plans on what to do next. Damn those impulsive thoughts in her head. Well, now it was too late to go back with this.

There was no response to her question. Just the natural sounds from the woods like birds and other small creatures coming back to her.

Well, what kind of response was she expecting?

Oh, I have been doing well Claudia, you know expect for this whole being dead thing. Besides that great.

"That was a stupid question, I just realized that" She awkwardly continued. "Maybe you should say something instead because I suck at this as you can see" Could not help herself to laugh nervously after that. Like this was an awkward family reunion with an uncle asking what’s your plan after college and not her talking to an all-powerful forest spirit who could destroy the whole town if it felt like it. It did not seem like Noah even heard her saying anything or he had the most minimalistic reactions to things, she was about to continue talking.

Then she noticed that his eyes were not staring at her directly, but rather her hand. Was still holding a strong grip on Barb, wasn't she?

Oh shit, did I hit him? shit shit shit shIT! No, relax just….

Taking a few seconds of considerations before she dropped the bat on the ground, and then kicked it far enough away she could not reach for it. Noah’s glance followed the bat and then went back into staring right into her eyes when it was out of reach.

“See… Don’t want to hurt you” she tried to give a small smile to show that she was genuine. In hindsight, that statement was almost ridiculous. What would a bat with barbed wire do against an undead forest spirit? Like if he wanted he could have probably just thrown her against a rock breaking her back in an instant. Maybe he could just drop her onto a tree, as Jane did with Cody, better just break Claudia's neck in on swift motion or maybe I should stop thinking about all the ways I could die, sounds like a plan.

No big reactions from Noah unfortunately, the only thing he did was staring at her again, like he was studying her.

Why isn’t he saying anything?

Claudia almost felt like that made it worse than it was. It was not like Redfield or Jane was that talkative in this type of state either, but they were talking, be it pretty simple.

She did not know what would have felt worse between him saying nothing or him taunting her for letting him die because she was a coward like the others would have done. At this point, she was not even sure if coming back was a good idea at all.

C’mon, I can’t give up this easily. I have to try to say something different.

“Can you talk?” that came out a lot more annoyed than Claudia intended to sound like, now it almost felt dumb asking. At least it got a reaction out of Noah, he was now tilting his head and his eyes widened she could see that the colors in them turned neon blue. Almost like he was taken back by the question.

“.....yesssssss...?”

Claudia felt every hair on her body rise. Even felt like the temperature had gone more down. That voice was the same voice that had been haunting her nightmares for years. The whispering voice that seemed to break through the silence like nails against a chalkboard. Still, even if it sounded nothing like Noah, it had to be him, right? It could not be anyone else? Maybe he remembered nothing so she could not even say it was him, because nothing that made him Noah Marshall was even left.

Jane had remembered, right? Even after 10 years and without the advantage of any of her friends knowing it was her. So he had to remember something, he had to remember Claudia, right?

“Do you remember me?” There was no point dodging the question, Claudia just had to know if he did remember. Hoping there was still something of her old friend in there.

This was the first in a long time he broke eye contact and was looking at the ground instead. Claudia tried to take one step forward, this time he did not seem to mind. It almost looked like he was too deep in his thoughts to even notice.

“My name is Claudia, Claudia Harrington, I am… your friend?” She said that last part almost in a whisper, like who knows what to even call their relationship at this point. They have not seen or talked to each other for almost two years. Last time they talked he had held a knife against her throat and then she let him kill himself. What do you even call that? Besides all types of messed up.

"Claudia..mm?" He said most likely to himself. She tried to walk a few more steps. Without a warning, he turned his gaze back to her and Claudia stopped right in her track holding her breath. Feeling like it got stuck in her throat.

He was not moving, she was not sure if it was her imagination or not, but it felt like everything had turned eerily quiet even more than before. Nothing that was living in the woods was making any noises now or knew to stay far away from where they were standing.

She could hear her heart hammering in her chest and she was wondering if Noah could hear it too.

Why did I not tell anyone what I was planing before going out here? Well, they would have probably tried to stop me. Oh, fucking christ I'm gonna die here. Aren't I?

To Claudia, it almost looked like his eyes was flickering a bit. Then he started to float a bit closer to her, but when he was just about 6 feet away he stopped. He promptly straightens up all of a sudden, It almost looked like he remembered something else.

".....leave.."

"What!? Wait What?"

Claudia had no idea how to respond or what to do with this. Was she supposed to just leave? Stay? Ask what he meant by "leave"? Had she said something wrong? Was he mad at her for everything that happened? Was there just something else unrelated? What had she done wrong? Her thoughts ran rampant. This was not making any sense to her.

Claudia looked up from the ground and Noah had not done anything. None of them had done anything. She noticed that his eyes seem to flicker a bit between the usual white, neon blue, and orange flames.

"No, I am not leaving until you answer my question," She said trying to sound as brave as possible.

"Do you remember me? Yes, or No" Trying to sound tough as hard when every instinct in her screamed she should run away and never look back.

Noah backed away and looked a bit to the left. Seemingly trying to avoid all eye contact with her.

"......Leave.." he said again, lower this time.

"No, answer my question!" Yelling back at him.

It seemed to get a reaction out of him. Turning his head and looking directly at her, she felt like his eyes were piercing through her soul.

Noah started to float a bit closer to Claudia, without breaking eye contact. He bends down so he was just a few inches away from her face. If he had been human Claudia would probably felt him breathing right up in her face and smelt his breath. Had she finally got him to remember something?

"LEEEEAVE!"

Claudia felt ringing in her ears that made her put her hands against her ears by reflex. She also closed her eyes shut to respond to the pain.

Nope, did not make him remember anything, just made it worse. Of course, I made it worse.

Slowly she opened her eyes. A face of nightmares was looking straight at her. The familiar skeletal face and bright orange eyes of flames. Which made her close her eyes immediately back again.

This situation is probably one where most would have run away screaming and never look back. Claudia was considering it. A part of her did not want to go until she got answers and a part of her felt frozen.

She was still holding her eyes shut. Nothing was happening, was he just standing in front of her? She knew something was in front of her and it was not moving. He had not hurt or touched her and the only thing he wanted was her leaving right?

She started to chant under breath

"I am not scared, I am not scared, I am not scared, I am not scared, I am not sc…"

"Huh….?" The whispering voice responded

Taking a deep breath, before opening her eyes again facing him.

"I am not scared of you" His eyes widened a bit like he was not expecting her to say that. "And I am not leaving you either," She said with the best poker face she was able to do while her heart felt like it would burst out of her ribcage at any moment.

The skeletal face with flame eyes was gone and the shadowy face with big neon blue eyes was back again. He backed away as well so he was not right up in her face and was standing a few feet away again.

"I am not leaving you okay, not again, I promise" Claudia took a hand towards him. He looked at it, almost unsure what she meant by it, Claudia continued talking:

"You don't deserve this, and I should have come back sooner, but I am here now, right?"

Trying to give a small smile. Noah glanced between her face and her hand. She stretched out her arm a bit closer to him. Maybe so he could take the hint.

"So maybe, we can be friends again?"

Suddenly Claudia saw that he tried to reach for her hand, but then he suddenly stopped. Almost frozen at the moment. He stood there for about half a minute.

"no" he started to say. He took back his hand. "no no no"

Claudia wanted to say something but Noah continued talking to himself seemingly forgetting that Claudia was even standing in front of him.

"Why back?.....worst...no no-no" He was hiding his face in his hands. Shaking his head back and forth. He continued rambling to himself for a while most of the words Claudia was catching was: "bad" "why" and "no".

"Noah? It's okay just…."

“DON’T!”

It seemed like the orange flames’ eyes were back again for a solid second. They disappeared just as quickly and he looked down at his own two hands and then at Claudia again.

".....Bye," he whispered and then turned around to leave her.

"Wait you can't just go!?" Claudia Yelled at him. He did not seem to care and continued floating away from her.

"After everything you did you can't just leave, you owe me something," she said in frustration. “bye” he replied with again. She ran so she was standing in front of him now and he stopped right in his track.

"What do you even want me to say or do?"

"...leave..." He said while walking straight through her. It did not feel much kinda like a cold breeze that went past her. Still made her shudder an insane amount.

“Hey!” She yelped and turned around to see him, still did not stop.

"...bye….leave..." he said again, waving a hand at her.

“I just want to talk! Come back! Please” It seemed like nothing she said was changing his mind, he was on the other side of clearing now. There was so much she wanted to say and in the end, she finally shouted at him:

“I’m sorry, OKAY!” she noticed Noah stopped walking away.

“.....what?” He turned around with wide eyes. Well no point holding back now, if she was never gonna see him again at least she can say everything she wanted to tell him before being gone forever. Taking a deep breath before continuing.

“I am sorry for everything that happened between us two.

I am sorry I trusted Redfield even though you were right about him.

I am sorry that I couldn’t save Jane from him as well.

I am sorry I left you after what happened to her.

I am sorry that you are…you’re..that you...” That was it, she broke, started to choke on a sob. Tears were starting to block her vision. She hid her face in her hands and continued to sob loudly to herself. When her knees started to feel weak she fell on the forest floor.

Maybe it was naive thinking that just spilling everything out was gonna make her feel or even make the situation at hand better.

It felt like an aching pain in her chest like her heart was being crushed by a pressure she could not see.

It was almost painful to breathe in. God if she started to throw up she would just die on the spot she felt like.

Guilt

That one terrible feeling she had felt constantly since the homecoming night. Been eating at her soul ever since everything happened. Thinking about all the things she could have done differently.

What if she was not an idiot as a child and backed away when a real-life ghost story wanted to be her friend.

What if she tried to talk to Noah after what happened to Jane, instead of a mutual avoidance of each other.

What if she had taken Jane’s place instead of being coward.

What if she had just tried harder to convince Noah it was another way to end Jane's messed up game.

None of her friends seemed to understand that. It did not matter how many times they told her "It's not your fault, you couldn't have stopped this" It still felt like it was her fault. Their choice that night was between life or death. They did not have to choose between killing another person or themself.

For Claudia, it felt like two people she cared about died because of her. Maybe she shouldn't feel bad after all those two tried to kill her and all of her friends. Still, she knew all the suffering they had gone through how much could have been prevented was the question if she had done different choices. Now she had the possibility to make amends with one of them and she messed up that too.

God, why can't I do anything right anymore? C'mon when was I doing anything right ever.

“...Stop crying..”

“What?” She looked up, her vision was a bit blurry because of the tears, but she did notice Noah was standing in front of her now, instead of the other side of the clearing. Then he lowered himself so they were more eye to eye.

“...Don’t cry….” He hesitantly reached out a hand and slowly patted her head for a while. She barely felt it, but that was definitely what he was doing.

"..Is..okay.." he continued talking with a bit of uncertainty, "… don't say sorry….is okay..." was he?

“....Are you comforting me?” Claudia did not know what to think, what was happening? Her worst childhood trauma, the monster who has been haunting her half her life, seemingly trying to cheer her up after upsetting her. When just moments earlier it seemed like he wanted nothing to do with her.

He froze immediately after she asked that. Almost like this was the first time he realized what he was actually doing.

“....working..?” He stopped doing, whatever he was doing. Holding his hands together, waiting for her response. It was hard reading his expression, it was after all just two bright lights that looked at her. It did not look like he had any anger behind his eyes like before as far as Claudia could tell.

“Yeah, we can say that” Claudia responded while wiping her tears away.

At least he did not leave like she feared he was going to do. It was kinda sweet, in a weird way. Maybe it was more of her old friend in there, someone who did care about her.

“....sorry too...” He quietly said. it was almost so low Claudia almost did not catch it at all.

“....hurt you...didn’t I?". He was fiddling with his fingers now and looking lower than before.

"you could say it like that" Claudia responded, a bit unsure what he was talking about this time.

"Sorry," he said again to her. "Sorry… messed up….sorry"

He could be talking about what had just happened, but Claudia's gut feeling was saying he was talking about something else. The whole reason why both of them were even here, to begin with.

"So, you do remember me?"

It was a few seconds of silence, Claudia feared a moment she had messed up again. Nevertheless, Noah started to nod a bit. Even looked like he was rolling with his eyes a bit.

"yes..of course…" she noticed that his eyes seemed to be smiling after he said that, if that even any made sense.

That made Claudia smile as well, she could feel her cheeks hurting.

"I knew you would" She finally said and she felt the tears were coming back again.

"wait… don't cry"

She started to laugh at that comment.

"No no, don't worry, I am crying now because I am so happy" She started to explain. It seemed like he tensed down a bit after she explained herself.

Then they were both sitting in silence for a while, what now? She had to admit it was kinda nice just sitting there with Noah. It was still something left of him inside this shadowy figure, now the question was how to save it. She had no ideas at the moment. Also what was she even gonna tell her friends, they were not so forgiving on what Noah had done. Also with the way he first responded to seeing her again, not the best reaction she could have hoped for. Guess she could tell them later when the time was right.

What snapped her out of her thoughts was a low hissing sound that seemed to get louder. Suddenly Noah went away and hid behind the treelines. Before Claudia could ask what was wrong she felt sunlight hitting her face that made her squint.

She had not noticed how bright it had gotten these past few hours. Guess fearing the ghost of a childhood friend might not even remember you were a bigger issue.

"Yeah….not a fan of sunlight I guess" Remembering how Redfield and Jane had reacted to it as well. She turned around where Noah was hiding between the trees.

"no...hurts a lot" Noah hissed while looking down where the sun was shining.

"I can come to visit again…. Next week? sounds good?" She gave him a thumbs up. He looked at her gesture for a while, before he copied it back. Then he was gone.

Claudia walked to were Barb was and picked the bat up.

"Well looks like I didn't need you," she said to it. She also realized that she never really apologized for potentially hitting Noah in the face, well could do that another time.

The woods were not as creepy with the morning lights shining through the tree. After around 15 minutes, she finally arrived back at her house. Going straight to her bedroom and crashed on her bed until the late afternoon.

#it lives in the woods #it lives beneath #ilitw #ilb #noah marshall #ilitw mc #fanfic #my writing #wellll this probarbly sucks #but I liked it enough to post it #sorry if the english is kinda crap because it's not my first language #claudia harrington

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munsonsduchess · 3 years

Text

So. I re watched The Magnificent Seven again because I’m at home self isolating until my housemates covid test comes back in a couple days so I made some notes. Presented below as I watched the film … again

Teddy looks like he wants to say something to encourage Matthew not to speak but like he just can’t find the courage to speak up

Everyone turning to stare at Sam as he rides through the town. Like they aren’t used to seeing a man of colour make something of himself.

The bartender who tells Sam they don’t serve ‘that kind’ as a direct insulation that they don’t serve Sam’s kind. Which could have just been because Sam is a lawman and the barman is an outlaw but could also be more than that

Faraday isn’t as stupid as he looks. He knows exactly who Dan is and what Sam’s purpose was. He could tell something was happening and was ready in seconds with a gun drawn to help Sam.

He sticks around after everyone runs out because he knows Sam’s occupation and seems to want to know more.

Emma has obviously been searching for someone who could help for a long time. Teddy stopping her from talking to Sam and her acceptance seems to imply that they’ve spoken to people before but that no one has taken them seriously. Maybe because Emma is a woman

Emma is clearly ready to offer up anything she can to find ‘righteousness’. It also seems like she’s more than ready for a fight.

Sam had decided upon hearing Bouge’s name that he would take the job and then when Emma shared her convictions he knew he could pass off his intentions as unselfish if anyone asked

Faraday cheats at cards and is scared of the dark confirmed. He’s also clever enough to use his wits to get out of a situation when he’s seemingly at the mercy of two other men

Faraday has issues around killing people. He clearly shows remorse for his actions. He doesn’t seem to like violence but he’ll use it to get what he wants if he needs to

Does Faraday know who Joan of Arc is?

He’s also apparently willing to throw his life away for strangers

Emma is not here for your shit

Teddy is a good boy and he’s here to help his friend on her vengeance quest as all good friends should

Vasquez wants Sam to know that he’s not the type of man who kills in cold blood. He uses Emma as leverage because a white woman’s death will look worse for Sam

Sam offers to tear up the warrant to get Vas on his side but I have the feeling he would have done it anyway

Vas taking a minute to decide and figuring if he works with Sam there’s a possibility of him going free and not having to run anymore

GOODY! That hip swagger

“That’s ok son you just pay me double” Goody is a respected member of the community and his reputation proceeds him so there is a level of fear there at offending him or anyone associated with him

Faraday is clearly interested to see how people react to or behave around Goody. To see how the man stacks up to the story

Goody very interested in who Faraday and Teddy are and what they have to say. Putting them off their game by speaking in the middle of the saloon while he’s getting a shave

“I keep him employed and he keeps me on the level” clearly Billy has been helping Goody with his demons far beyond what we see later

Goody and Sam being friends warms my heart

That good old southern breeding. Goody can’t resist being charming

“Ain’t no such thing as a Texican” that’s one hell of a loaded statement right there

“This is not going to end well” couldn’t have said it better myself Goody

The Famous Pigeon Brothers who weren’t famous for very long

“I believe that bear was wearing peoples clothes” Joshua the man was snuck up on in the dead of night, had a boulder smashed over his head and has been tracking the culprits for two days. I don’t think you’d be in your right mind either

“Don’t call the alligator big mouth till you cross the river” Goody just has all the best advice

IT’S MY BOY!

There’s obviously something Faraday is trying to drown in all that whiskey and Teddy knows it which is obviously why he tells Faraday to keep it

Emma doesn’t trust Farday at all

Goody knows what’s up although he’s not one to talk about the battle behind him

MY SON! HE’S SO PRETTY I WANT TO CRY

Sam giving Vas the gun so he’s less threatening to Red. Same way he left his gun outside when they went after Vas

I love that Martin cut his hair off to be historically accurate but damn what I wouldn’t have given for a long haired Red in this movie

Peace offering or trolling? Both? Both.

“Yeah ok I trust you now”

Can I also say I love how Martin learnt to ride bareback for the historical accuracy? Like historical accuracy is my jam. Now I just wonder how accurate the costumes are

“Oh good it’s a black man and an Asian man quickly call your children inside for who knows what havoc they might bring”

I do love how the racism is never as overt as someone using a slur but it’s always there just under the surface

“Manservant? Really?”

Did they practice how they were going to come into town and look imposing or do they all just instinctively know how to pose? I know Goody does anyway

I cannot keep a straight face when Farday calls himself the worlds greatest lover

Sam has no time for these Blackstone men and I am here for it

Sam’s horse is just called Horse

Goody having PTSD flashbacks before the shooting even starts since he’s clearly triggered by just the situation

A western staple where the bad guys always miss and the good guys never do

At times like this Mal Reynolds comes to me speaking words of wisdom “shoot the man not the horse, a dead horse is cover, a live horse is a whole lot of panic”

Faraday and Vas being very gay and poor confused Red like “tie him up what?”

“Lincoln like the president” and goody just “oh damn”

Someone please give Emma a better shirt. She’s gonna spill out of that one

“Seems I was the only one with balls enough to do so” damn right you were

Emma just breaking down when there’s no one around to see her use she has to be strong

“Fame is a sarcophagus” “what’s a syllable?”

TABLE MANNERS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TABLE MANNERS

Goodbye to the working girls the town isn’t the same without them

Emma has a better shirt! She still looks like she’s gonna spill out though

Shooting lessons with Goody and Faraday

“The way of northern aggression”

Billy’s class just running away because he’s way too good

“Make me some eggs”

“GET SOME GRAVEL IN YOUR CRAW!”

Faraday trying to goad Goody into proving himself. Sam’s wariness and Goody turning around and showing Faraday just why he got the title he did despite the reasons why he doesn’t pick up a rifle anymore

Do any of them know what Jack is talking about?

“So far so good”

We’re to assume it’s Goody picking off Bouge’s men at the mine since he’s the only one who could make those sorts of shots which means Sam has talked him into doing it even though he’s seen what happened to Goody during the initial fight

“I’ve always wanted to blow something up”

The look on the faces of the people who live in town as the miners come through. They’ve always lived separately from these men and now they’re forced to look at their faces and see just how they’ve all been living

Sam putting the dynamite in the hotel like it’s no big deal

Poor Peter Skarsgard. He’s the bad guy or the poor Dad in a horror movie while his dad is spooning Colin Firth on a boat in Greece

“I worked for my money. I wasn’t given a million dollar loan. I’m a good guy”

Emma can shoot just fine. She does not need you Faraday

“I had a father thank you” “I didn’t” proceeds to show off as if to prove himself

“They say the nightmares never go away” no they really don’t ask Goody

“Avenge me!” Yeah faraday it’s not that hard

“I am to fight” “it comes to that and we’re all dead” excuse you Sam but Emma is the one who brought you here and she’s the one who’s been raring for the fight since the beginning but sure put her with the women and children

I’m also so mad they cut out of the scene of Vas and the school teachers kid talking

“I have three Maria’s!”

I’m afraid of owls too goody you aren’t alone

TABLE MANNERS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

How long had Bouge been in Rose Creek and making the residents live in fear? That it had to be the seven who were able to show them how to live their life again

Those loose white shirts though 👌🏼

Squinting into the sun as the realisation dawns

Sam knows Goody better than Goody knows himself and Goody knows Sam better than Sam knows himself

Sam doing his best to help his friend with his PTSD but Goody just can’t

“It looks like he’s started to drink” that’s because Goody was his friend his best friend and there are untold emotions and god knows what else between them and now that man had left but not just that but left him behind is torturous

“I’m hungry” You little shit!” Red Harvest. Professional Troll

Sam seeking refuge in what’s left of the church. Feeling the proverbial noose tightening as he clutches at his neck

Emma reminding us what this whole endeavour is for. How it all started. How it’s going to end

Bouge sitting back because he’s sure his hired men will be enough. He’s never faced opposition before so he’s confident he still won’t. Or at least that his money will solve all his problems

Also if Red only wears his war paint for special occasions and if he was tracking the group prior to joining them does that mean he put his war paint on specifically to talk to Sam

Another man in Goody’s spot in the bell tower because presumably he’s the second best shot with a rifle or the only other person they could trust up there

A+ use of Fox holes though

Jack reciting his prayers as he goes absolutely feral

Faraday’s happy little smile when he finally gets to blow something up

Jack trying to help as many men as he can, men who are fathers, husbands, good honest men

Bouge who doesn’t seem to care one ounce that the people in the village are being slaughtered and bringing the battling gun out just for extra overkill

“You ok güero?” “So far so good”

“We still have men there sir” proof that Bouge does not care one single ounce for human life that isn’t his own

That rebel yell

“The devils breath” I can only imagine how a Gatling gun got that name especially from a war vet who’s likely seen countless friends allies and enemies alike be blown down by this devil

Faraday being concerned for the children even though he’s injured himself

Jack protecting Teddy at the cost of his own life. Defiant of Denali to the end But accepting his death with a sigh believing in his faith that he’ll be rewarded in heaven and reunited with his family

“I knew you’d be back” Billy has so much faith in Goodnight and I’m gonna cry

Emma with an empty gun putting herself in front of an injured man between the injured man and Denali

Denali ain’t shit!

“You’re a disgrace”

“My daddy used to say a lot of things” these two I cannot cope

“I might need a new vest” Faraday you reckless idiot

“Hit the steeple”

“I got him!” “Oh Goody” I’m not crying you’re crying

I know there’s a lot of talk about Chris Pratt being the worst Chris but he was so good in this movie I swear. Which yeah I know doesn’t change anything but when you see him playing Faraday in that last scene where it’s all down to him. I can’t

“I’ve always been lucky with one eyed jacks”

Nope definitely not crying. Not me

Bouge’s complete disregard for human life as he surveys the town

Bouge V Sam

“If god didn’t want them sheered he wouldn’t have made them sheep” says a man who feels no remorse at all for the blood on his hands

This time it’s Bouge who’s going to feel the noose tighten and I am here for the cinematic drama of it all

God won’t save you now Bouge. Run into the church you like. It’s not going to help

“Ask for forgiveness” The reveal of the rope mark. What Sam has been doing in Rose Creek this whole time. Why he took the job at the mention of Bouge’s name

#duchess.txt #mag 7 #the magnificent seven #duchess watches mag 7 #part one

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zilbea · 5 years

Note

FAHC Freewood with protective mercenary Dan please ❤❤❤ Maybe Dan was visiting the fahc and saw that the vagabond holding a knife while Gav looking so terrified at him? (Theyre joking around ofc, just that Ryan was so lovingly pissed off at gavin) Dan misunderstood the situation and almost kill Ryan?

Interesting, I’ve never written Dan before, but I love this idea. I’ll take it and run. Might be a little darker (and longer) than you wanted, but I’m a slut for angry sexual tension fahc freewood dynamics. Hope you enjoy, and thanks for the prompt!

————————— 2044 words

Gavin set his jaw, crossing his arms as Ryan stalked towards him. The alleyway was small and dim, but Gavin figured he could scale the fence behind him if he truly needed to make a getaway.

“You idiot,” Ryan spat, quickly closing the gap between The Golden Boy and himself. His skull face paint accentuated his furious scowl, and the dim light cast haunting shadows across his tall figure.

Gavin lifted his chin as Ryan crowded him, refusing to take a step back. Gavin’s cheek was bleeding, but he hardly felt the sting. His chest was tight, and he took a deep breath before defending himself. “How was it my fault, then?” Gavin held his defiant posture, vary aware of the knife held tight in Ryan’s hand.

Ryan drew himself close to the Brit. He was breathing hard, hand itching to plunge the tip of the blade into Gavin’s puffed chest. “This was a stealth mission. An easy in, easy out. And yet,” Ryan crouched slightly, leveling his eyes with Gavin’s, “Someone managed to let a guard slip away.”

Gavin met Ryan’s icy stare, and his bravado wavered. He had never seen such a look of absolute fury in those gorgeous blue eyes - let alone seen that fury be directed at himself. Gavin could feel the Vagabond’s hot breath across his face, and a sharp pang worked its way into his gut. Ryan’s stare was overwhelming - unwavering, unblinking. His face paint was smeared at the edges; his dark hair a matted halo across his head. He looked legitimately psychotic and, although Gavin hated to admit it, unbelievably sexy. Gavin narrowed his eyes, willing himself to focus. “That guard wasn’t under my zone - If I had taken him down, I would have bloody let three others get out.”

Ryan pulled away from the Brit slightly, staring at him in disbelief. A low growl of agitation rumbled from his painted lips.

A car passed by the alley and its headlights, for but a moment, made Ryan look absolutely feral. Gavin swallowed. His gaze flicked from Ryan’s knife to those intense blue eyes. Ryan wouldn’t actually hurt him, would he?

“Besides,” Gavin started again, rubbing his hands together. His brow knit as he developed his lie. “If I remember correctly, that guard was marked in your sector. But you were too busy doing… What again?” Gavin knew he was playing a dangerous game, and he watched Ryan’s muscles tense. “Oh,” Gavin continued, waving a hand. “You were damn off with Geoff - wrongly, ay? Too focused on your own shitting reputation to remember your agreed place in the job.”

Something in Ryan snapped, and he sprang upon The Golden Boy. He grabbed a fistful of Gavin’s immaculate button-down shirt and dragged him to the brick walls of the alley, pinning Gavin against the wall with a forearm, not really caring if he hurt the smaller man.

Gavin’s head cracked against the brick and he squeezed his eyes shut to block out the sharp pain. He felt Ryan’s ragged breath in his ear.

“How dare you,” Ryan growled, his voice husky. He pressed Gavin harder into the wall. “You’re a fucking coward. Afraid to own up to your wrongdoings; even more afraid to learn from your mistakes.”

Gavin opened his eyes slowly, glaring up at Ryan’s seething visage. His stomach flipped at the sight before him; Ryan was sweating, lips parted in a snarl. His eyes twinkled from beneath between the face paint, but to Gavin’s surprise, they sparkled with something… a little different than pure rage. Gavin swallowed dryly. There was very little space between him and the Vagabond, and Gavin, seeing no other option, decided to use his compromised position to his advantage. He lowered his eyelids and tipped his chin up slightly, locking his gaze with the Vagabond’s. “Are you going to kill me, Ryan?”

Ryan paused at this, grimacing. His eyes bored into Gavin’s green ones and irritation prickled the back of his throat. “I should,” Ryan said, voice cracking slightly. His heart pounded and he couldn’t seem to get enough air. Gavin looked the picture of absolute seduction, and Ryan hated that it had any affect at all on him. Anger and adrenaline still boiled in his veins, and he slid his forearm higher up Gavin’s chest, inching towards the tanned neck. Ryan watched Gavin’s eyes widen, and the Vagabond nearly smiled. So. The cool, calm, collected Golden Boy did have a sense of danger after all. Ryan felt a warm tightness in his chest and Gavin’s nervous breaths flitted across his face. Ryan settled his forearm against Gavin’s throat, crowding his body closer to the Brit. His voice was low and steely as he spoke. “We were supposed to get through that complex safely… quietly. Turning a stealth mission loud can go horribly south” Ryan squinted at the man under his arm. “You’re lucky no one got killed. I’m astounded at your complete incompetence.”

Gavin gazed down at the Vagabond through his eyelashes, aware of nothing but the arm pressing down on his windpipe. The pair were silent for a bit, only the sound of their breathing echoed through the alley. Gavin knew he fucked up - knew he should have been paying closer attention - but in the end, the crew got out safe, and that’s all that really mattered. Gavin lifted his chin higher, talking over the arm against his neck. His heart thudded. “I dunno, Ryan.” A dangerous glint flickered across his green eyes, and he wiggled his body a little under Ryan’s weight. He locked eyes with the taller man, grabbing Ryan’s oppressing forearm with both hands. “Maybe I like the danger.” He pulled Ryan’s arm harder into his own neck, biting his lip. To Gavin’s delight, a look of absolute shock plastered across the Vagabond’s face.

Ryan yanked his forearm from Gavin’s chest, but Gavin held on tightly, back lifting from the wall as he clung to Ryan’s arm. Ryan growled and dropped Gavin back against the brick. He pressed his body flush against Gavin’s, unsure if he was furious or turned on. “You insolent piece of shit,” Ryan spat, voice wavering more than he liked. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

Gavin shrugged, mischievously rolling his hips against Ryan’s weight. He raised his eyebrows languidly, eyes raking across Ryan’s face. “Oh, I think I do.”

Ryan’s knifed hand flew upwards, and Gavin winced, flinching as Ryan embedded the tip into a crumbling brick next to his head.

“You like danger, do you?” Ryan leaned in, lips nearly brushing Gavin’s. A drop of sweat rolled down his back, and he savored Gavin’s wide eyed look of terror. Ryan would have almost felt bad, if not for Gavin’s fully blown pupils and parted lips.

“Oi!” A voice rang out, and suddenly, Gavin was no longer pinned to the wall. Gavin reeled at the sudden freedom, looking around wildly. A muted grunt echoed from the ground, and Gavin watched in shock as Dan Gruchy, notorious mercenary and longtime partner of the Fakes, slammed his boot into Ryan’s stomach. Ryan rolled backwards, righting himself to his feet. With admirable speed Dan drew a pistol, leveling it at The Vagabond’s skull.

“All alone in an alleyway, no one around to blame you for the murder of The Golden Boy,” Dan said angrily, positioning himself defensively in front of Gavin. He cocked his gun, glaring at Ryan. “A perfect scheme, I’d say.”

“Look,” Ryan started, cautiously raising his hands as he stared in bewilderment at the mercenary.

“I know we were partners once, before all this crew shit,” Dan spat, gesturing slightly with the pistol, “But that doesn’t mean I won’t put a bullet through your skull, ay?” Dan threw a quick glance at Gavin over his shoulder before rounding on Ryan once more. “You’ve about ten seconds to explain why the eff you’re ‘bout to off Gavin Free.” Dan’s free hand joined the other at the pistol’s handle, and he squinted at the Vagabond.

Ryan frowned, unsure of his words. “I wasn’t… trying to kill him - ” He gestured with his raised hands slowly, measuring Dan’s reactions. “Gavin’s actions nearly cost us a mission… And he didn’t seem to understand the severity - “

“So you plan to run him through with a knife?” Dan gripped the pistol harder, gaze unwavering.

“Dan,” Gavin’s voice called.

Dan kept his attention on Ryan but gritted his teeth. “Yeah, B? You want me to kill this traitor?”

Gavin huffed, crossing around Dan to stand next to Ryan. “He’s telling the truth.” Gavin looked at the dirty ground uncomfortably, wishing he wouldn’t have been so stubborn.

“Yeah?” Dan said incredulously. “What did you do so bad then, that this bloke should pull a knife on you?” He held the pistol level with Ryan’s chest, despite Gavin’s proximity.

Gavin’s gaze flicked from the angry mercenary to the irritated Vagabond, and he sighed. His chest was tight as he spoke: “Let a guard go in a stealth op. He got out, alerted the whole complex. We barely got out with our lives…” Gavin swallowed, surrendering his pride. “He got away on my watch. The whole thing went to shit, and it was my bloody fault.”

Ryan glanced over at Gavin, eyebrows raised. “So you do admit it. Is The Golden Boy really taking responsibility for his actions?” Almost all previous malice had left his voice.

Gavin kicked at the dirt. His heart was heavy. He prided himself on his decent track record of flawless heists, and despised feeling like a monumental letdown.

Dan faltered at Gavin’s statement, lowering the pistol slowly. “Come off it, Gavin. That’s a pretty decent offense.” He looked from Gavin to Ryan and back again, confused. “Hang on, that doesn’t explain why you,” he took several steps toward Ryan, hostility creeping back into his voice, “had Gavin pinned down, threatening him with a knife!”

Ryan raised his eyebrows at Dan, grimacing. He turned his palms up in a half shrug. “Um.” He chuckled uncomfortably. “Emphasis?”

Gavin turned red and quickly intercepted Dan with a tanned hand on the mercenary’s chest. “It - It’s okay, B. Uh,” He threw a panicked look at Ryan and gazed up at Dan, smiling nervously.

Dan frowned, slowly piecing together the situation. He searched Gavin’s face, eyes going wide as everything clicked. Dan’s cheeks flushed and he nodded stiffly, disengaging the pistol’s ammo. “Right.” The mercenary took a few steps back, staring at the uneasy pair before him. “Right,” he said again, hurriedly. “Well I - just know that I’m lookin’ out for you, Gav.” Dan couldn’t figure out where to put his arms. “You better not lay another hand on him,” he gestured towards Ryan, who was now grinning, thoroughly enjoying Dan’s discomfort.

Ryan lowered an eyebrow, his smile wolfish. “In what context?”

Dan backed away and tripped over a stray trash can lid - wishing he was anywhere else. “Just don’t… murder him - and Gavin, don’t get yourself killed from anymore stupid mistakes.” Dan turned on his heel, and walked away quickly, regretting not just minding his own business.

Watching Dan disappear into the street, Ryan rounded on Gavin, arms crossed. “You understand why I’m so upset, correct?”

Gavin nodded, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

“So you admit you fucked up,” Ryan said, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice. He moved toward Gavin, grinning as the Brit took several steps back. “Gavin Free made a mistake, is that correct?” Ryan knew he was being needlessly antagonistic, but it was too much fun getting a rise out of Gavin.

“Yes, Ryan, Jesus.” Gavin moved further backwards as Ryan approached, a spike of panic rising in his chest when he felt brick wall against his back once more.

Ryan drew himself up against Gavin again, placing his arms on either side of the Brit’s head. His mouth brushed Gavin’s ear, voice low. “You’re sorry?”

Gavin nodded again, heart pounding. He knew Ryan was just messing with him now, but Ryan’s presence was intoxicating.The Vagabond’s hot breath ghosted across his neck, raising goosebumps along Gavin’s arms.

Ryan pressed his body hard into Gavin’s, smirking at the slight gasp from the Brit. He growled low into Gavin’s ear, voice ragged. “Then show me.”

#freewood #fake ah crew #fic #zilbea's writing #just so you all know im absolutely finishing this with sex on ao3 when i get the chance #i know this doesn't really make sense but its written with p w/o p intent lmao

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andrewjosephminyards · 5 years

Note

please write a hc about neil calling andrew “drew” in front of the foxes and everyone freaking out and trying to get away w also calling him drew tysm and have a nice day or night ! x

WHOOO ANON, Neil calling Andrew “’Drew” is literally one of my favorite things. This took a hot minute because I had no idea it was in my inbox, like I literally just found it with that ask I published a couple of days ago so if you sent it a while back then I am so so sorry, but I was so excited to find it and thank you so much for sending it, I hope you’re having a nice day/night as well!

Also, I strayed just a little from the prompt and this turned into a monster of an answer, forgive me :’)

So, without further adieu, the Foxes trying to get away with Neil Privileges™.

It happens early during Neil’s sophomore season.

Neil doesn’t mean to call Andrew “’Drew” in front of the other Foxes, but dammit the game they just won wasn’t easy between being slammed against the walls by the backliners more than half his size and running like a bat out of Hell up and down the court all night long. He’s tired and he’s sore and it just slips out.

They’re all siting in the foyer, waiting for Wymack to start his post-game talk and Neil honestly thought he was being quieter than he apparently was, but he’s asking Andrew if they’re going to Columbia and the name slips. It comes out sleepy and soft and it shuts the whole team up, freshmen and all.

For a minute, Neil doesn’t realize they’re being looked at, but Andrew does and the look he’s giving them all says they’d best not say a word about it.

And they don’t. At first.

Naturally, all of the foxes have been mulling this little interaction over in their heads, because it isn’t very often that they all get to see Neil so soft and sleepy. He’s very rarely tired enough to let his guard down around the freshmen enough to let them see something like that.

And as such, they all treasure the moment in their hearts, because it’s a well-known fact the whole team has adopted Neil Josten.

However, he’s a lot like a feral cat, so none of them actually mention it to either Andrew or Neil, rather they discuss it among themselves, which results in a bet as to whether or not that’s actually something Neil calls Andrew.

Or maybe his voice cracked from being tired and it came out as “’Drew” even though he really said “Andrew.”

They’re going to figure it out.

They’re split about fifty-fifty.

Actually a nickname: Matt, Dan, Allison.

Not a nickname, just an accident: Nicky, Aaron, Kevin.

Aaron and Kevin don’t really care, but they got dragged into the bet by Allison.

Renee doesn’t bet, because she Knows and they all know she knows, but she just smiles like the angel she is when they ask her. She won’t even tell Allison.

It’s a few days later, at practice, when Allison is the first to try it. They’re scrimmaging for the first time since that game instead of doing drills and Allison is on the opposing team. Neil’s on her team and he scores a painstaking shot. Up until this point, Andrew had kept his team’s goal clear.

“Better luck next time, ‘Drew.” And she coos it, grinning like mad at the gremlin in the goal.

Neil hisses her name, not happy she’s using his nickname for Andrew against him. And not exactly knowing how she even knew it in the first place. Because like I said, he was tired when it slipped and he’d really thought he was being quiet.

Andrew says nothing. He doesn’t even narrow his eyes at her. There’s no reaction whatsoever.

The ball that comes barreling at Allison the next time somebody tries for a goal on Andrew tells her she effectively got under his skin.

Every subsequent shot after that comes her way. She leaves fairly bruised up and cursing Andrew to the high heavens, but pleased nonetheless to have gotten any kind of reaction from him at all.

When they lose and have to run laps, she’s a little less pleased. Not to mention the dark bruises that have started to bloom whenever Andrew got a clear hit.

Allison doesn’t mention the nickname again on the court.

Andrew doesn’t say anything about it to Neil, because why would he?

Even when Neil asks, he just shrugs, says he doesn’t care.

He’s not angry over it, but that’s Neil’s. It’s become sacred without him realizing it, like pipedream, like keys, and home, like stay, like yes or no.

Just because he isn’t angry over it doesn’t mean he likes it.

Hearing it fall from anyone else’s lips leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Neil knows, even if Andrew doesn’t tell him. Won’t tell him.

The next time it happens, it’s Matt and it’s to Neil and Neil only. No one else is around, because Neil and Matt have the same hour out of classes and none of the other foxes do, so it’s just the two of them.

Matt’s kind of picking at his salad, eyes on Neil and Neil just knows what’s coming.

“So, Drew-?” Matt was only going to ask whether or not it was a nickname, not actually use the nickname, but Neil is faster with his words.

“Don’t call him that.” It comes out quickly, sharp and cutting through the rest of Matt’s question, whatever it was. But it’s not harsh, not hateful, because this is Matt and Neil knows Matt doesn’t mean any harm.

And because it’s Matt, he drops it immediately. A nod, an “okay,” and they move on to something else.

Matt, inevitably, tells Dan that Neil doesn’t want them to call Andrew “’Drew” and she takes it in stride. But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything to her.

They still don’t have their answer to settle their bet.

Nicky thinks that this would be the only bet he’d be happy to lost and that if it really is a nickname that Neil has for Andrew then that’s actually super sweet, but after living with his cousin for so long and seeing what happened with Allison, he decides he’s better off not testing any of their theories, especially not on Andrew.

That leaves Aaron and Kevin. Aaron decides he sure as hell isn’t asking because his relationship with Andrew is still rocky at best. His relationship with Neil was even worse still, albeit on a different sort of level. So he immediately throws Kevin under the bus.

“Kevin lives with them, make him figure it out.”

Silence from the other foxes. They can all see Kevin’s internal screeching through his eyes. And then his adamant protests.

Nicky points out that all Kevin really has to do is listen, but he’s still not digging this sudden turn of events and the responsibility of this entire bet being placed firmly upon his shoulders.

Kevin argues and argues, but to no avail. He gets sent into battle without really being prepped.

So he sits in their dorm and does his best to listen to every conversation they have while they’re in the living area, even those that are hushed though he’s pretty sure he could live without hearing 70% of those, but things sound as normal as they usually do. Neil calls Andrew by his name and Andrew usually responds with something along the lines of “Neil” or “fucking junkie.”

Neil and Andrew both know that Kevin’s listening to their conversations. He’s not subtle.

Even if he’s not looking at them, he’s not reacting like he usually does to the television or his laptop.

Neil just kind of assumes he’s getting irritable because they’re talking during the exy games he’s watching, since the season has started out on a rockier note than they’d all hoped for.

Andrew doubts it. He imagines he knows what Kevin’s listening for. So it’s Andrew that confronts Kevin: “Are you waiting for something, Day?”

Kevin’s little jolt is all Andrew needs to know that he’s right. He goes so far as to pop an eyebrow up when Kevin glances at him.

Kevin just shakes his head and puts his headphones in. He doesn’t feel like getting kicked out more than he already does.

Days go by before any of the upperclassmen ask for a status report, everyone eagerly awaiting their answer.

“He doesn’t call Andrew that around me. I am not asking.”

Stark disappointment from all the other foxes and then some serious nagging for Kevin to figure it out somehow.

This nagging continues right up until Andrew and Neil are around and then it stops entirely.

Kevin’s still not been won over by that point and everyone’s actually starting to get a little discouraged or otherwise irritated that they can’t pin this down.

Neil, for one, is feeling a pretty good sense of relief that the foxes have apparently forgotten about Allison calling Andrew “’Drew” and that Matt had completely let it go.

Andrew’s pretty certain not a single one of the damned nuisances has forgotten.

Unfortunately for the both of them, that’s the case, but it’s not the upperclassmen that necessarily make it unfortunate.

It’s that very day at practice that the foxes get their answer. They’re split up to run drills by position when one of the freshmen Jack snarls something at Neil that most of the others can’t hear (Kevin can), but it flares Neil’s temper and he swings on Jack so fast no one really realized it was about to happen.

The other foxes converge on the scene and break up the not-so-little brawl that’s gone down and it’s just as Matt’s trying to pull Neil back with Allison and Nicky putting themselves in between them and Kevin and Dan forcing Jack away from him that Neil snarls, “I’m the only one that can call him that you shit-faced motherfucker.”

Matt gasps like he’s not heard worse, but Kevin’s head whips around and he’s staring wide-eyed at Neil.

No one gets the chance to ask why until after practice because it’s a day that Wymack decides running off their tempers is as good an idea as any (and it is, since it essentially allows the freshmen and the other foxes to put a little distance between themselves, even if all of the freshmen aren’t so bad).

It’s after practice that they’re finally able to ask Kevin what happened.

Kevin just kind of clears his throat, tells them that Jack had thrown around some insults at Neil through practice (nothing new) and then said something about Andrew, which Neil ignored again, and then the one thing he said that pushed Neil over the edge was something about “Drew.”

Kevin doesn’t know what the last insult was exactly, but he does know he heard that. He’d been trying to hear it all week.

Money exchanges hands immediately. Allison’s smug, Kevin’s irritated that he just made himself lose the bet.

None of the foxes ever try to get away with it again.

But Neil eventually, slowly, lets himself call Andrew Drew in front of the foxes. And Andrew can’t really say that he minds. As long as it only falls from Neil’s lips from then on.

And a little something extra for the first time Neil calls Andrew “’Drew”, like this isn’t already long enough:

Again, the above situation happens early in Neil’s sophomore season.

And Neil’s only recently started calling Andrew “’Drew.”

That, too, started as an accident.

It was a good day and Neil had just made coffee after his run and he fixed himself a cup and then Andrew.

And upon taking a sip of his own coffee, he burns his tongue, so when he calls for Andrew, he’s talking fast and it comes out like “Mm. ‘Drew, coffee!”

Neil pauses a moment, realizes what he’s done and turns to slip out the door immediately.

For once in his life, he’s not fast enough.

Andrew’s there, picking up his coffee, eyebrow rising in question as he takes a sip.

Neil says nothing, just smiles and sips his own (too-hot) coffee again.

Andrew hums at his and Neil takes that as a pass. His coffee was acceptable this time. He’s getting the hang of how sweet Andrew’s has to be for it to be even passable. (Which, he already knew what made it passable, but sometimes he just isn’t willing to check and see if he’s put the right amount of sugar in the man’s coffee himself.)

They stand there for a few minutes, Neil relaxing, glad Andrew either hadn’t caught the little slip or just didn’t care enough to say anything.

And it’s then, just when Neil thinks he’s safe, that Andrew says, “Drew?”

Neil flinches, points at his mouth, now molded into a sheepish smile. “I burned my tongue and it slipped.”

Andrew nods, accepting the fact for what it was, ignoring the slight disappointment that he may or may not feel, that had followed the butterflies in his stomach that he may or may not have been trying to kill.

And then Neil says, “Unless… unless I can? Call you that, I mean.” It’s tentative, quiet, like he’s trying something he didn’t even expect himself to try.

Andrew simply looks at him, those stupid fucking butterflies starting up again, even as he very desperately tried to squash the damn things mentally.

They stand there again for a good two minutes before Neil says anything else in the form of a very soft, “yes or no?”

Andrew presses his lips into a thin line just before he rolls his eyes, lets out a long suffering sigh, and averts his gaze from Neil’s bright eyes. He can’t take the little bit of hope that shown in them. It only made the horrendous psychologically-induced stomach-creatures worse.

Then, “Yes.”

Neil lets out a little puff of a laugh, something disbelieving and overall giddy that Andrew didn’t mind if he called him Drew.

It was something else for the two of them, something special that no one else could ever quite understand. There was meaning there that meant more than either of them could fathom in the past or that they could even really fathom now, but that they would learn to understand as they learned to understand other things in the future like being really and truly happy, like complete and unequivocal trust.

2K notes · View notes

ahappydnp · 4 years

Note

1) Funny how your hormones make you soft for Dan while mine have been making me absolutely feral for Phil this month. 2) We’ve sync’ed up *hi5* (This ask is gross on multiple levels and I almost hit anon but no)

I mean same, but feral for Phil is just my natural state anyway so that’s not new.

But for some reason when it’s that time, I turn into a mother seeing her stupid loud precious theatre kid son on stage and I’m taking 5,000 pictures and posting them on Facebook. Cal, I read a fic and cried because I love him. Who am I?!

Also, woo! Cycle twins! You’re the second person to say that and now I’m starting to wonder if the whole damn Phandom is synced up

#tw thirst #not gross its a fun natural coinsidence #but for serious #i love that dude #hes a good egg #i say thats my baby and im proud #he squish #katie come snap me out of it!

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boarix · 5 years

Text

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part IX

Be Together

Trigger Warnings: Canon violence/language/gun, alcohol and drug use. Mature/suggestive content.

Game Spoilers!

Please enjoy!

Preston was humming along with Wraith’s radio. He caught her looking at him, a smile on her face and he was thankful that his dark complexion would hide his blush.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account! Hell, you can just sing along if you want, Hancock always does.”

“Why don’t you join me?”

“Oh Preston,” She shook her head emphatically, “dear, dear, sweet, Mister Colonel Preston Garvey… you do not want that!”

“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“My friend, you must trust me, a chorus of dying mole rats would be preferable. I can’t carry a tune in a bucket, never could. About the only time I would sing was in my car and even then the radio would have to be loud enough that I couldn’t hear myself.”

“If your man ain’t treating you right, come up and see ol’ Dan…” Pausing, he held his hand out for her to pick up on the next line but she only laughed and shook her head, “I rock ‘em roll ‘em all night long I’m a sixty-minute man.” As he continued she pointed to herself and mouthed the words ‘dying mole rats’ at him.

The Castle was looking great: new plumbing and improvements to the barracks and overall insulation made the old fort feel warm and home-like. It had been a busy couple of weeks but Wraith was satisfied that the coming winter would be a vastly better experience than the previous year. Ronnie Shaw had been at Wraith’s elbow almost the entire time however, and her patients with the woman was wearing thin.

“General you can’t make these bunks too cushy. We want those new recruits hardened and ready for anything!”

“Ronnie, most of these folks were born in the Ruins. They know how to survive and what it means to sleep on hard frozen ground, with little food. It’ll be fine.”

Finally breaking away, she was hiding in the mutfruit orchard and was helping Preston winterize. “She’s too… much, sometimes.”

“You know she means well, General.”

“You never have a bad thing to say about anyone, do you?”

He shrugged and smiled at her, “There’s lots of bad and ugly in the Commonwealth and we don’t need more of it coming from me.”

“Preston, you are such a doll,” She could tell he was embarrassed by the height of his shoulders, “and call me ‘Wraith’. No need to be so formal all the time!”

“I’ll work on it General.”

“Attention Minutemen! There is a report of a settlement needing our help!”

Wraith looked down at her Pip-Boy just as they heard Ronnie yelling indistinctly from the Castle’s courtyard. She looked up and smiled at Preston, “Let’s go, you and me!”

“I don’t know…”

“It’s been forever since the two of us have gone on a settlement run!”

“Sure, love to. Although, I’m pretty sure you’re just trying to duck Shaw…”

“…if more wander out this way, we may be over-run.” Wiseman’s plea for help came with a slightly abashed tone: the clearing-out of feral ghouls always made him feel guilty. After reassuring him, Wraith and Preston headed north to Mahkra Fishpacking. A feral occupation of that particular facility wasn’t itself unusual but Wiseman had said that his patrol had heard strange howling noises and that one of the ferals had been particularly large.

“A ‘bloated’ or a ‘charred’, ya think?”

Wiseman had shaken his head, “Not sure General, but both scouts saw it and thought it was a yao guai.”

As they crept along the bridge heading toward the front doors, Wraith would frequently have to stop and disarm wire traps and land mines. The whole of the front courtyard was fortified as well. “I didn’t grow up in the Commonwealth, but I don’t think feral ghouls or irradiated bears set traps like this…”

“Yeah, there is definitely something else, or should I say someone else, responsible. Raiders? Could be that they have power armor and that’s the big thing the scouts saw. If they were high outta their minds it would account for howling noises too.”

“But Wiseman said they definitely saw ferals out here. If it was ferals and then raiders, there would be corpses but there isn’t anything… and it’s weird how quiet it is.” They both stopped to listen, “Yeah… I don’t like this…”

No sooner had the words left her lips than the doors flew open and a grotesque wad of feral ghoul parts came flying through the air at them.

“GAAARRAAAAHHHHHA! LEAVE NOW OR DIE!” The disembodied voice had the unmistakable gravel-rasp quality of a ghoul, “BLAAARRRRGGGGG!”

Irritated with her guts-shower, Wraith stood up to rush the doors and they were slammed in her face. “The FUCK!?” Finding them locked, she proceeded to pound furiously on them, “HEY ASSHOLE! OPEN THIS GODDAMN DOOR RIGHT FUCKING NOW!”

Preston started laughing. Only Wraith, with her face red in anger and covered in ghoul offal, would pound on an enemy’s door, yelling to be let in. “Maybe ask more politely?”

Relaxing a little, she was able to find the humor in her predicament and shared in Preston’s laughter, “Heh, okay.” Waving for him to follow, she walked away from the door and headed to the beach. She washed off the worst of the gore and used Preston’s level mind as a sounding-board for her situational analysis, “Okay, so he’s a ghoul and he’s scared of… well he’s scared…”

“If he wanted to kill us he probably would have actually tried. All those traps were out in the open and the average scaver would have been able to see and avoid them. I don’t think he’s trying to hurt people as much as he’s trying to keep them away; making the place more trouble than it’s worth.” He frowned as he pulled a portion of small intestine out of Wraith’s armor, “Maybe we should just go back to The Slog and leave him be.”

“Honestly I’m worried about leaving him out here. With the ferals gone I’m afraid of an eventual confrontation between scavers and our gut-dealing friend.” With the worst of the smell gone she turned back to the door, “I think I’ll try again. Politely.” Holding her arms up, palms out, she stood what she hoped was out-of-range and tried again, “Hey in there, I’m sorry if I disturbed you. We aren’t looking for a fight. A settlement close-by saw some of these ferals and was frightened by them. It’s a farm ran by ghouls called The Slog. Maybe you have heard of it? I’m General Wraith of the Minutemen and this is Colonel Garvey. We came to see if there was something we could do to help.”

“Yeah, right… I’m expected to believe that the two highest ranking officers of the Minutemen came all the way out here to help a settlement of ghouls? You must think I’m a fool! I’m warning you, leave ME ALONE!”

Looking back at Preston, she made a sour face. He smiled at her and gave her a thumbs-up, mouthing the words ‘you’re doing great’. “I would love to respect your request, however this area is particularly prone to frequent… undesirable occupation and I’m concerned for your welfare.”

“I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF!”

“I can see that! Killing all those ferals couldn’t have been easy but staying here, protecting yourself, all by yourself, well, that sounds pretty lonely to me…”

She got no response.

“Well, General I think that’s it. We can’t force him to come with us.”

“I’m not ready to give up just yet. Let’s make a fire and we’ll camp out here. Maybe, if we don’t try to force him, he’ll start to get curious and come out on his own.” A sly smile crept across her face, “I know for a fact it smells bad in there and the deeper you go the worse it gets. You notice he hasn’t gone far from the doors?”

Preston and Wraith watched the sunset together. Warmed by the crackling fire, with full bellies and the sound of a gentle ocean in their ears, it was an extremely pleasant evening.

“Into this life some rain must fall…” Wraith’s Pip-Boy radio was tuned to Diamond City. Preston began to sing softly along to the music and Wraith sighed dreamily. Then it hit her…

Playing nice all evening hasn’t gotten us anywhere. Preston’s right about a hostel approach though so what’s left? Why, annoyance of course!

“Preston, before I start, I just want to tell you how sorry I am…” She rose to her feet with a look of intense determination on her face.

Alarmed, Preston stood up as well, “What? What is it?!”

Wraith opened her mouth but instead of answering him, she started to sing along with the radio, “Some folks can lose the blues in their heart,” It wasn’t as bad as “dying molerats” but it was far from Fitzgerald quality, “But when I think of you another shower starts.”

Preston caught on quickly and the two moved closer to the door, each singing as loudly and off-key as possible. They kept at it too, singing through 3 or 4 songs before “Civilization” came on, and the “Bongo, bongo, bongo” finally pushed their target over the edge.

The doors flew open and an enormous ghoul came running out at them, “STOP! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE STOP! I can’t… no more… please.” He sagged, defeated, “death is preferable at this point.”

Wraith was relived to stop singing as well, “We aren’t here to hurt you. I hope you can trust me.”

“Too late…” He stood close to 7 feet tall and was barrel chested as well. The resemblance to a yao guai stopped at his size however because he possessed a gentle smile and a pleasant face, as far as ghouls go. “And people call me a monster…”

Wraith frowned at the sadness in his voice, “I don’t think you’re a monster… what’s your name?”

“My parents named me Bartholomew but I haven’t gone by that name since long before th’ War…”

Wraith took a sudden intake of breath over her teeth, which was so strong it made a whistle sound. Sudden tears appeared in her eyes as memory hit her, “Bear?” She held her hands to her mouth, tears falling freely, as she closed the distance between them, “Bear, is that you?! Oh, oh my…”

The ghoul’s eyes narrowed in suspicious disbelief, “It couldn’t be… Wolf?!” He looked into her eyes for a moment before bursting into tears himself and enveloping her in a hug, “I can’t believe this! How is this possible?!”

Preston was smiling at their joyful reunion, “How do you two know each other?”

“He was one of my best friends growing up! Our dads were like brothers.”

“Although, after we entered into the Marines, we kind of lost track of each other.” Bear roughed Wraith’s buzzed hair affectionately, “So you got everyone calling you ‘Wraith’, huh? What’s wrong, afraid they’d call you Pip..”

“I swear to GOD BEAR IF YOU FINISH…”

They spent the night catching up out on the beach, rather than inside the plant because as Bear put it, “It smells like hot fish-ass in there!”

Bear had left the military on an honorable discharge, due to injury, long before the bombs were dropped. He had been living in Maine, working as a tanner at a family-owned facility and after The War he had continued on as such, “Mostly I make armor and brahmin harnesses, that sort of thing.”

“Why did you come to the Commonwealth, Mr. Bear?”

Wraith chuckled at the honorific and Bear gave her a dirty look, “Bear, just Bear…”

“Yeah, ‘Mr. Bear’ was his father’s name! Ha ha!”

Pretending to ignore her, he cleared his throat, “A-hem, well Colonel, things can be rough for ghouls just about anywhere and Bar… I mean, Far Harbor is no exception.” A look of regret colored the ghoul’s face as he turned toward the sea, “I got into it with some of the folks at the docks. They refused to pay me the price we had agreed upon so I tossed ‘em in the drink. They came up sputtering that I had gone feral and… well… even people who I thought were my friends… they weren’t.”

“Oh Bear, I’m so sorry…”

He cast a tender smile down at Wraith as she leaned against his arm, “You don’t seem to have a problem with ghouls though.”

“Not at all! In fact, I’m… involved, with a ghoul named John Hancock.”

“Well, holy shit! Wolf has a boyfriend!”

She punched him playfully on the arm, “I have two actually.” She smirked at his shocked expression, “I know, scandalous, huh?”

They left for The Castle at dawn via The Slog. Wiseman was relived and even offered Bear a job, to which he politely declined, “That’s very generous of you and I may take you up on that down the road but for now I’ll stick with the good General Wraith here.”

Preston had been unusually quiet during their walk and Wraith had asked him if anything was wrong, “Well General, actually I’m confused…”

“You know you can ask me anything…”

“Okay… Wolf?!”

MacCready was irritated and lonely. Hancock was in Goodneighbor and Wraith was at The Castle and they both had been gone for a couple of weeks. Finally they had reached a point where things were no longer awkward between the three of them, a point where they could be together and they weren’t.

Sofie had found him sprawled across Wraith’s office couch early one morning and when she chastised him for being under-foot and idle, his response had been less than mature, “I’m sooooooooo bored! There’s nothing to dooooooooo!”

“For God’s sake MacCready, what are you a five-year-old? Lydia is leaving for Bunker Hill in few, so just tag along with her and head on in to Goodneighbor.”

“You don’t need me here?” The thought that he might go and be with one or the other honestly hadn’t crossed his mind.

“To do what, hold down the furniture? No, I love you son but please, feel free to get lost!” Frowning, she waved a dismissive hand at him, “Take one of the Pip-Boys with you, just in case.”

He popped up off the couch and ran to her. Scooping the tiny ghoul into his arms he spun her in a circle before kissing her cheek and running out the door whooping like a child, “I’m taking Dogmeat, wooOOOOOO!”

MacCready was helping Lydia and the rest of her crew unload when he saw Deb waving him over. “You heading to Goodneighbor anytime soon? I have something for Daisy…”

“What do I look like, the delivery boy?” Despite his tone and the sour look on his face, he still accepted the package. A shortcut placed him at the provisoner’s entrance to Goodneighbor a short time later.

Walking through the town was a surreal experience due to the facelift it had received after the Triggermen’s bombing. Nodding at familiar faces with Dogmeat frisking along beside him, MacCready suddenly felt the gravity of the last couple of years pressing on his mind. “So much has changed…” His thoughts converged on his son Duncan and he was so lost in his head that he didn’t even register Hancock when the ghoul stepped deliberately into his path. “’Scuse me…”

Hancock’s laughter rang out as he let MacCready walk around him to continue down the street, “Ha! Hey there Little Brother, ya forget me already?” The smile that lit the young man’s face caused a flutter in Hancock’s heart that was almost painful. “Old ghoul, old news, is that it?”

“Hey man, I’m sorry. I was just thinking ‘bout things, ya know?” He let Hancock sling his arm around his shoulder and press a kiss to his cheek. “I haven’t been back since the construction finished; the place looks great!”

Hancock stooped to pat Dogmeat, “Hiya puppy-love! So, what’s the good word MacCready? Something I can do-you-for?”

MacCready shrugged as he turned and continued walking to Daisy’s shop, “I came to see you,” Looking back to make sure Hancock was following, he especially liked the mix of happiness and confusion on the ghoul’s face, “I was going crazy in Sanctuary without you two!”

Daisy gave him a smile when she saw MacCready and she came from around the counter to embrace him, “What a coincidence; I just got a package from Carol and Greta for you.”

As the ghoulette disappeared into the back of her shop, MacCready took the opportunity to swipe a package of Fancy Lad cakes off of a shelf and stick them in his coat. When Hancock raised his brow at him the youth flashed him a wicked grin, “You gonna pin me against the wall, or what?”

Hancock growled lasciviously as he slipped a hand in MacCready’s coat and ran it around to his back. He brought him flush with is chest as he pushed him to the wall. “Like this, Robert?”

Daisy’s eyes widened when she returned. Breaking into a laugh she half-mocked them, “I can see things haven’t changed between ya’ll; Hancock still looks like he wants to have ‘his way’ with you. Ha!” She shooed them out after handing MacCready an envelope, “Ya’ll are blockin’ the way of paying customers.”

“Hey! I am a paying customer!” MacCready handed her a few caps for the now squished cakes.

MacCready whistled appreciatively as he looked around Hancock’s new office, “Hey, where’s Fahrenheit?”

“Probably in her office… You want whisky to go with those smash-cakes?”

“Mowmph, yerp!” Having already put a gob of cake in his mouth he nodded at Hancock as he opened the envelope from Underworld. Tapping the contents into his open palm, MacCready’s face lost its color and he half-fell onto a couch, a choking sob escaping his lips.

Hancock all but dropped the whiskey and ran to him, “What?! What’s happening?!”

Wordlessly he passed a photo over his shoulder to Hancock before pressing both palms to his eyes. The picture was of a young boy of about 4. There could be no doubt that it was Duncan: sandy blond hair and cerulean blue eyes set in a cherubic face. Hancock gripped MacCready’s shoulder and the young man reached up to hold his hand; trying to draw strength from the contact.

MacCready’s voice was rusty with emotion, “There’s a holotape…” Popping the tape into his borrowed Pip-Boy and taking a deep, shaking breath, he hit play.

“…as if I know how this is supposed to work! Is it going? Greta, is it working?”

“I think so… Winthrop said we just have to push this button…”

“Okay… Hello RJ, this is Carol. Nyx dropped off a working camera and suggested you might like a picture of Duncan. See how big he’s gotten? Ugh, if the little bugger doesn’t look just like you!”

“He’s got his momma’s nose though. Good news for him… Ha ha!”

“Anyway… someone has a special message for his daddy. Go ahead honey; say ‘hi’ to daddy!”

Openly sobbing now, MacCready held his hand over his mouth as the piping voice of his son could be heard on the recording.

“Daddy! Hiya daddy. Where daddy, auty Carol? Daddy I pickr! I was hold still for pickurs an’ everthing!”

Reaching his limit, MacCready turned off the tape. Hancock sat on the couch next to him, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him to his chest.

Fahrenheit found them lying asleep together on the couch, surrounded by empty liquor bottles, a few hours later. She had gone to Hancock’s office, mad that he had missed a meeting with her. She touched the mayor’s shoulder gently to rouse him, “Everything okay?”

“Oh, ‘m sorry Fahr! Yeah, I’ll catch you up tomorrow.” After she left Hancock gently maneuvered himself out from under MacCready and headed to the restroom. Washing his hands he heard a creak of a floorboard and expected to see MacCready up when he walked back into the room.

Deacon was sitting at the bar petting Dogmeat who was on the stool next to him.

“The hell you want?”

Spinning around on the barstool a couple of times, Deacon let out a child-like exclamation of glee, “Wheeee!”

Glancing fearfully at the still sleeping youth on his couch, Hancock made sure the full weight of his irritation carried through in his whisper, “Hey, keep it down asshole!” He set his foot against the rung of the barstool, stopping Deacons rotation, “The hell you want?”

Deacon stuck his bottom lip out in a mocking pout, “You missed two meetings today Mr. Mayor, so I came to see if you were still vertical.” The pout turned into a sly grin, “I guess it turns out you weren’t…”

Hancock chose to ignore his innuendo, “Oh? Why the sudden concern for my welfare, hmm? And take your damn shades off when we talk!”

“No can-do boss.” Slipping past Hancock, Deacon made his way toward the door, “It’s not your welfare I’m concerned about; it’s Wraith’s.” Raising his hands in a what-can-you-do gesture he frowned at the ghoul, “Like it as not you are an exceptional body guard and you are more frequently near her body, in The Shit, with her, when she gets there, you feel me?”

“Cheeky-ass motherfucker…”

Deacon blew him a kiss as he quit the room.

Hancock had reorganized his schedule in such a way as to allow him to head back to Sanctuary earlier than originally planned. After listening to the message, actually hearing his son’s voice, MacCready’s whole demeanor had changed, leaving him unusually quiet and unfocused. Having no confidence in his own counseling skills, Hancock wanted to make sure to reunite him with Wraith as soon as possible.

The two men were tagging along with Bossy on his run to Sanctuary and MacCready was using the upper pathways through the city to keep an eagle-eye view on the small caravan. Hancock strapped the borrowed Pip-Boy to Bossy’s brahmin Gertrude and had tuned the radio to Diamond City so they could enjoy music as they walked.

“…But when I think of you another shower starts.”

“Hey Bossy, this dame good-looking, or what?”

Bossy gave the young caravaner a hard look, “Look here smooth-skin, how the fuck would I know?!”

“Well, you’re pre-war ain’t ya?”

“Kid I was born in two-thousand-forty-seven… that’s what, a hundred years after this song was made?”

“I know… I just thought… dunno, album covers or some shit.”

Hancock was laughing at both of them, “Roger right? Kid, Ella Fitzgerald was a great talent, so what else matters?”

Lost in his head, MacCready didn’t notice the raiders until they were closing in on him.

A shoe-scuff was the only warning he got and was able to spin around and fire a shot, killing the closest foe.

At the sound of the shot Hancock immediately ran to the nearest fire escape, whistling for Dogmeat. The bottom tier of stairs had broken off long ago so the ghoul dosed himself with Jet and they both jumped to a dumpster beneath the closest rungs. Crouching slightly so the dog could use his body as a ramp he then was able to make the leap himself with drug-enabled ease.

MacCready was having trouble: although competent in close combat, against 4 opponents he was being overwhelmed. Using his rifle as a staff he slammed it into the face of one attacker and blocked a knife-throw from another. A third had gotten around behind him to put in him in a headlock but MacCready had smashed his face, flatting their nose with the back of his head.

The knife throwing raider closed the distance and drawing a combat knife, he slashed at the young man’s face. Although able to get his rifle between them, the raider was forcing him backward, bending him over at the waist. Able to set the blade against his brow, the raider’s knife cut deeply as they screamed into each other’s faces.

Then suddenly the raider was ripped away by what looked like a brown torpedo. Hancock vaulted over the railing a second later and cleaned up the rest of the trash with his shotgun. MacCready slumped to the roof in relief.

After making sure the coast was clear, Hancock ran to MacCready’s side, tisking at the blood pouring down his face, “Aw jeez MacCready! Wraith’s never gonna let me play with you again if I break ya!” He reached for the youth’s chin, “Let’s see how bad it is…”

Suddenly irritated at having to be rescued, at feeling inept and helpless, he smacked Hancock’s hand away, “I’m fine! Who asked you anyway?”

Hancock’s eyes narrowed briefly as the young man glared at him. His voice quiet, he tried again, “Let me help you Little Brother.”

Relenting, he closed his eyes as Hancock cleaned the wound and stitched him up; willing himself not to flinch at the stimpak and suturing needle, “Why did you start calling me that anyway?” He was feeling guilty about swatting Hancock away, “And don’t say it’s cause you’re taller than me; you’re taller than everybody!”

“I… guess I wanted kinship with you.” MacCready’s cerulean eyes flashed open as Hancock continued, “I was impressed with your skill and that stunt with the whiskey… heh.” Finished, the ghoul sat back on his heels, “The more I got to know ya, the more I wanted… felt like we could be family. In one way or another, you feel me?” Staring into his eyes Hancock smiled unabashedly, “I just wanted ya to know that I gave a damn.”

“I, I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t have to say anything,” Hancock stood up and pulled him to his feet, “just quit tryn’ to make yourself look like Danse!”

Once back in Sanctuary the two men made a bee-line for the clinic. Thankful it was dark and that most of the settlers were asleep they were able to hide MacCready’s injury from becoming general knowledge. They knew Curie would scold them but she probably would also understand the value of not stressing Wraith out with the information.

The lights were off in the clinic but MacCready forgo knocking in his eagerness to resolve his issue. Even if Curie was asleep he could just have Hancock use the “knitter”, he knew how.

Opening the door to her office, MacCready was not prepared for what he saw: Curie and Danse were deep in the throes of mad passion. From the sounds they were making it seemed quite enjoyable for both parties. Mortified, MacCready spun on his heels to run and smashed his forehead directly into Hancock’s boney chin, reopening the wound. Clamping his hands over the ghoul’s mouth to prevent any exclamation, he pushed backward to move him toward the outer door. In their attempts to flee, they both tried to use the door at the same time resulting in a pushing match that left them both bruised.

Once outside Hancock was laughing so hard he made no sound at all. The ghoul pointed at MacCready’s face and then at the clinic, shaking as he sank to the ground.

“It’s not funny.” MacCready’s voice went up in octave, cracking slightly in his ire, “IT IS NOT FUNNY, MAN!”

Finally able to get a breath, Hancock snorted loudly, “You… you…” He flopped onto his back in the street, breathing hard, “Whoooo! Well, I’m glad for him. At least someone’s getting’ some lovin’ around here! Ha ha ha… finally got some balls to tell her how he felt!”

MacCready placed a palm over his bleeding brow, grimacing, “NO! Please don’t talk about Danse’s balls, man.”

“Oh? ‘Fraid ya don’t measure up?”

MacCready fixed him with a confident leer, “Oh, no worries there.” He walked over to pull Hancock to his feet, “Now can we please go fix my eye? Wraith has one of those knitter thingies in her workshop first aid kit.”

Wraith was in her workshop. Wraith was back early too. Wraith was angry, relived, stressed… “What the hell, you two?!” She put both hands on the top of her head as the slideshow of emotions crossed her face, “Jeez Mac! Do I need to roll you up in bubble-wrap?!”

“I’m okay! Really! Hancock stitched me up just fine, but I… we…” He was waving his arms around, clearly at the end of his wits.

Sighing in defeat, Wraith pinched the bridge of her nose and waived him over to a stool, “Okay. I’ll get the derma-fuse. Go sit.” She pulled another stool up and changed the settings on the handheld device, “I know you were just trying to give yourself a cool scar, so you could be like…”

“Nope, I already made that joke!” Hancock grinned as he interrupted her.

“Yeah, you two are a real pair of comedians, you know that?” MacCready watched Wraith’s face as she leaned in to work. Concentrating, she had stuck her tongue out slightly and he found it ridiculously adorable. She smelled good too, probably had just taken a shower. His mind took him back to a few minutes before: replaying images of Danse and Curie’s lovemaking. Feeling himself grow hot, he reached up and gently grabbed Wraith’s wrist, pulling her hand away from his face and leaning in to kiss her.

Hancock slowly pushed himself away from the wall and went to lock the doors. No interruptions this time.

Breaking the kiss, MacCready breathlessly whispered, “Please. I want you so bad… please Wraith, I love you and I want to be with you. Please tell me…”

“Yes, Mac...” She interrupted herself by diving back into their kiss, her hands working on removing his clothes as fast as possible.

Hancock had been standing back, watching, transfixed by their sensuality. Then simultaneously Wraith reached out her right hand as MacCready reached out his left. Taking their hands in his, he let himself be pulled into their embrace.

Finally, they were together.

Thank you so much for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please see my Wraith in the Ruins master-link in my bio. =^..^=

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