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motorsportbarbie13 · 3 days ago

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Hurricane - Part Six

{Liam smirks as he watches Max slide the reformer bench back and forth experimentally. “I still don’t know how you got him to agree this, Emma. He hates doing these kinds of things for content.” “It’s because he’s fucking obsessed with her.” Lando crows, smug grin back on his face as he baits Emma on purpose. She gasps, smacking Lando’s bicep as hard as she can. Lando yelps loudly, “Jesus Christ, woman! You have an arm on you.” “Because I do pilates three times a week, you asshole!” “You’re going to look at me and tell me that I’m wrong though? We can all see it. He’s down bad for you, miss ‘I’m wearing this dress for him and he won’t pay any attention to me.”}

warnings/notes: no warnings on this one. as always, big thanks to @lestapiastrisgirl for keeping me from walking into traffic and listening to me beat a dead horse for being in my flop era with this story. pairing: max verstappen x emma meyer (female OC) word count: 4.3k

hurricane master list main master list ask me anything

The jet engine hummed steadily, creating a blanket of white noise that settled over the elegantly decorated cabin of Max’s private jet. Towards the back of the plane, Emma sat curled up in one of the captain’s chairs, decidedly removed from the rest of the chaos that played out in the front of the cabin. She had chosen the spot in the back of the plane, as far away from Max as she could manage, on purpose. The pre-weekend notes and schedules on her laptop screen blurred into meaningless lines as she stared, unseeing, at a spot unseen in front of her, replaying the events of the night before with relentless, agonizing clarity.

She still couldn’t believe she had slept with Max last night. Well, not slept with Max in the colloquial of course, she corrected herself mentally, but the distinction felt flimsy and paper thin against the truth of the overwhelming intimacy of what had happened last night. The memory of waking up to the soft dawn light, the lingering warmth of Max’s body haunted her even now. The almost unbearable sense of peace that had settled over her as she had laid there, listening to the steady, even breathing of a sleeping Max, nearly lulling her back to sleep.

It had all been too much for her.

Too real.

So she had ran.

A shiver totally unrelated to the cool cabin air, fluttered down her pine. It wasn’t just the physical closeness that had her utterly distracted this morning, although the memory of Max’s arm pulling her close as she had slipped into bed in an attempt to calm her anxieties, sent a treacherous flutter through her stomach. It was the vulnerability she’d shown him, the quiet strength with which he’d held her as the storm had blown through the city center. He hadn’t dismissed her fear, hadn’t minimized her feelings. Max had simply been there, a steady, grounding presence in the face of her overwhelming anxiety.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? That was what had sent her spiraling into this terrifying cortex of confusion and panic. She wasn’t used to that kind of…care. That kind of soft, tender concern to ensure that she was okay instead of just brushing off her feelings as ‘too much’ was something that she was completely unaccustomed to. Her parents, with their detached disinterest and thinly veiled disappointment, had taught her that love was conditional, a fragile thing that was easily broken by the simplest mistakes. Even her past, (always very brief) relationships had been characterized by a cautious distance, a preemptive retreat before what she knew would be an inevitable rejection.

Max was different though. She felt that in her bones, even if she didn’t want to fully admit it to herself. He’d shown her a depth of kindness and understanding she’d never experienced before, behavior she couldn’t come close to being able to process. He was her boss after all and she was desperately trying to remain professional. She valued her job, her independence, the freedom that she had and if they crossed the line that had come so perilously close to smashing the night before, all that would be in jeopardy.

Emma knew, deep down, that Max had feelings for her. How could she not know? With the way he looked at her, the almost possessive protectiveness he’d displayed several times over the course of the time they’d spent together, albeit relatively short. The lingering touches, the way his voice softened when he said her name, the way he watched her for hours on end while she sat in his apartment playing the piano at night.

It was all there.

Undeniable.

And Emma?

There were feelings there for her too. How could there not be? They were all tangled up in a fascinatingly confusing blanket of attraction, admiration and a distinct sense of belonging. Like her soul was content when she was around him. Those feelings had become crystal clear last night when she had fallen soundly asleep to the sounds of a thunderstorm, tucked neatly into his side, the steady beat of his heart the thing that calmed her to sleep.

But Emma didn’t trust it. She couldn’t trust it. Couldn’t trust herself. Her past had taught her that she was unlovable. Unworthy. Her own parents, the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally, couldn’t manage it why would someone who didn’t have to love her, choose to love her? Why would someone as successful and confident and strong choose her?

And if he chose her now, what’s to say he wouldn’t change his mind in a week? Six months? A year? And then where would she be? Without a job, right back at square one where she’d been when Max had first found her. Except then, she’d have no one else to come save her.

So Emma had decided in that early morning light, as Max had wrapped his arm around her middle so tightly her chest ached with the comfort of it, that retreating was the safest thing to do. It was safer to hide behind the walls of professionalism, to focus on her job and to keep Max at arms length.

It was easier this way.

Simpler.

Safer.

While Emma sat alone in the back of the plane, an island of quiet indifference to the chaos that was taking place near the front of the cabin, Max pretended that what was happening didn’t bother him. He tried to lose himself in the incessant chatter that was the lethally annoying combination of Lando Norris and Carlos Sainz, but even the mindless prattle about which golf course in Miami was the best couldn’t distract him from what had happened last night.

At first, when he woke to his alarm this morning, Max had thought it had all been a dream. The way that he had woken up to the storm and found Emma baking in his kitchen to sooth her anxiety, the way they had nearly kissed, lips barely touching in the lightest touch imaginable, the way he’d felt Emma relax into his arms and finally, finally he’d felt the way her breath had steadied against him.

It all seemed like some distant dream that he’s made up but when he woke up that morning, there were signs that he hadn’t conjured up the fantasy out of thin air. The way he wasn’t in his normal spot in the middle of the bed, the rumpled second pillow that was usually untouched, the smell of Emma’s cinnamon and vanilla perfume that lingered on his sheets. It was going to be hell washing them now, he realized. He didn’t want to lose that smell.

He’d woken up alone and stumbled into the kitchen, calling out her name to a silent apartment. For a brief, horrifying moment Max had thought Emma had packed a bag and left him completely. He’d found a note on the counter though, handwritten in her loopy, feminine half cursive, half printing handwriting, just as the anxiety of the possibility had clawed at his throat.

Went out to do some last minute errands before the flight this morning. Made some breakfast sandwiches for you, they’re in the fridge. Be back soon. ~ Em

As relieved as Max was that she hadn’t skipped town, the fact that she hadn’t even woken him up to tell him she was leaving grated at him. She’d been back with barely enough time to spare before they’d had to leave for Nice and with them driving with Lando and Carlos to the private airfield, there had been no time to talk.

Now on the plane, the silence that stretched between them was thick and tangible, a weight pressing down onto Max’s chest so heavily he was fighting to breathe. He kept stealing glances of Emma in his peripheral vision, not wanting to blatantly swivel his head towards her in an obvious way. She was practically curled in on herself, her gaze fixed on the laptop nestled in her lap, a wall of professional composure firmly held in place. Sure, it was Emma but it wasn’t his Emma. It wasn’t the Emma who leaned into their flirty banter, who knew exactly how to push his buttons to get him to do the exact thing he didn’t want to agree to, who knew how to soothe his frayed nerves during a difficult season full of challenges. She had become his comfort without him even realizing it and now that she’d distanced herself, Max was spinning wildly, desperate to be back into her gravitational pull.

Had he misread everything? Had the intimacy of her agreeing to try to fall asleep in his bed been a desperate attempt to do something to assuage her anxiety, only to seem too wrong in the morning light? Had he been so desperate in his desire to protect and be with her that it had colored his perception of everything? The thought sent a cold wave of dread through him. He’d never been good at this, at reading other people’s intentions and emotions but he had thought he’d gotten it right with Emma. Thought he’d read her correctly but as he sat pretending to listen to Lando and Carlos argue about the merits of using a 9 iron in the middle of a fairway, Max was beginning to question everything.

He felt Lando’s gaze on him suddenly, as if he was just realizing Max wasn’t all there in the conversation. A steady, knowing look lingered just a moment too long, like Lando was seeing the distress on his friend’s face for the first time that day. Max offered him a tight smile, hoping to throw him off the scent of his brooding. He didn’t want to get into this now, not with Emma just a few feet away and within earshot. He knew Lando meant well, but it just wasn’t a conversation he was ready to have at the moment.

Max was too trapped in his own head. A whirlwind of ‘what if I just…’ and ‘did I cross a line?’. He replayed the near-kiss over and over in his head, the fleeting brush of their lips, the way Emma had jumped back when the thunderclap had shook the entire building. Had he ruined everything but suggesting she sleep with him? He hadn’t meant for it to come across as anything but a genuine desire to make her feel better. Maybe it had been too far and she had felt forced into it. But at the same time, he knew what he had felt when she had slipped between his sheets. The way Emma had looked like she belonged there all along. The way that she had melted into him when he laid down beside her. He had been hesitant at first, not wanting to make her uncomfortable but it had been Emma that had shifted closer to him after a few moments. When he had taken the risk and wrapped his arm around her middle, she had leaned into him then and he thought it was okay. Thought it was what she wanted.

As he watched her far away stare pretend to focus on the laptop in front of her though, Max wasn’t so sure of anything any more.

Chaos seemed to be the order of the day Thursday morning. PR interns fluttered around the sleek, modern pilates studio, setting up various cameras, making sure the drivers were properly mic’d up, and getting some behind-the-scenes photos to share to various social media channels. Emma stood quietly in the corner as her now-favorite intern Laurie clipped a mic discreetly to her navy athletic crop top.

She wasn’t quite sure how she had ended up here, getting ready to be featured in a F1 video featuring the drivers from Red Bull, Racing Bulls and McLaren but, here she was. Sure, it had been her suggestion in the first place but the suggestion had been more of an off-handed remark while she’d been sitting in hospitality one way back in Japan after watching Max and Yuki film an even sillier video. Emma had thought it would be a fun way to showcase the drivers’ athletic abilities beyond the confines of the cockpit.

And then the media team at the F1 HQ had picked up on the idea and suggested that they turn it into a special feature video with three teams. It had been natural to pair Red Bull up with Racing Bulls, of course but the suggestion to add McLaren had been Emma’s idea, wanting to give Lando a little payback for teasing her relentlessly after she missed her pilates class after their night out the week before.

“I don’t know why everyone thinks this is going to be difficult.” Lando crowed from where he sat on one of the reformers, sliding idly back and forth on the padded bench.

Emma raised a brow at the smugness in his voice, “Have you ever done this kind of pilates?”

To his right, Liam chuckles. “Have you seen his lack of flexibility? There’s no way he’s going to make it through the entire class.”

Lando stood, frown on his face and hands on his hips, “What are you talking about? You’ve never done this stuff either.”

Liam shook his head, “No, but Hannah has been doing it for years. I did a class with her while I was in LA during the winter break. It’s no joke.”

Lando’s frown deepened as he seemed to second guess his enthusiasm. Before he can form a smart remark, Max and Yuki walk into the room, matching in their coordinated Red Bull athletic wear.

Liam smirks as he watches Max slide the reformer bench back and forth experimentally. “I still don’t know how you got him to agree this, Emma. He hates doing these kinds of things for content.”

“It’s because he’s fucking obsessed with her.” Lando crows, smug grin back on his face as he baits Emma on purpose. She gasps, smacking Lando’s bicep as hard as she can. Lando yelps loudly, “Jesus Christ, woman! You have an arm on you.”

“Because I do pilates three times a week, you asshole!”

“You’re going to look at me and tell me that I’m wrong though? We can all see it. He’s down bad for you, miss ‘I’m wearing this dress for him and he won’t pay any attention to me.”

Liam does a poor job of hiding his laugh behind a cough. Emma goes scarlet but recovers quickly, turning up her nose at the British driver. “Don’t be mean, I’ll tell the instructor to make the class more advanced just for you.”

Lando grins but there’s a definite touch of fear in his eye, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, Papaya Boy.” She hisses, wicked grin winking over at him.

Before Lando has a chance to make a retort, Max walks over to where the three are standing in the middle of the studio. Max runs his hand through his hair, eyes bouncing nervously between Emma, Liam, and Lando. “Can I talk to you for a second?” He asks. “Alone?”

Max looked a little worse for wear, Emma notices for the first time that morning. It wasn’t anything alarming, nothing that anyone else would’ve probably picked up on, but she knew. His eyes were just a bit red-rimmed, skin a touch paler than usual. It was like he hadn’t slept well the night before. Emma worried at the corner of her lip, conceded that his distress was because of her. She was supposed to make his life easier as his assistant. If she kept causing him problems, it wouldn’t be long until he let her go, Emma was sure of it.

Lando’s brows lift but he just smirks, memory of Emma’s threats curbing any smart ass remark he might want to make. Max looks pointedly at Liam and Lando, as if to say ‘get lost, you two’. Liam is the first to make a move, tugging on Lando’s elbow to give the pair some privacy.

Max shifts his weight as he searches for the words he wanted, his eyes darting everywhere but on Emma. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I can tell them you’re not feeling well or something.”

Emma’s gaze softens slightly at his unexpected concern, warmth blooming in her chest briefly before she quickly smothers it. They hadn’t said much to each other during the drive from the airfield to the hotel last night and she had stayed in her room until the very last minute this morning, preventing any awkward attempts Max might make at bringing up what had happened back in Monaco during the storm.

“I’m okay, really.” She says, but Max clocks how her voice lacks it’s usual playful edge.

Something inside him squeezes at how differently she’s treating him, the sudden distance a painful reminder that he crossed a line the night before and made her feel uncomfortable. He wanted to apologize for everything, for doing something that made her pull away but Max just hadn’t had the chance. Now wasn’t the time, not in the middle of all of this chaos going on around them. He didn’t want to push her away further so Max knew he had to bide his time. It was just too bad patience had never been his strong suit.

“Besides,” She continues, pulling Max’s attention away from his anxiety spiral. He lifts his eyes to look at Emma and his heart stutters. “I was the one who suggested this entire thing, got you all into this. I should at least participate, right?” She shrugs awkwardly, her movements stiff and automatic, nothing like how he’s used to her behaving around him.

The truth was though, the thought of being in such close proximity to Max, of the potential for accidental touches and shared glances, was making her stomach churn with a maddening mix of anticipation and anxiety. She craved his eyes on her, craved the way Max looked at her like she was someone special, someone that mattered. But she didn’t trust herself around him, didn’t want to ruin this opportunity he’d given her, didn’t want to lose him as a friend in her life because she’d come to rely on him even in such a short time.

“I guess someone needs to make sure Lando doesn’t actually break the equipment.” Max teases gently, hoping they can slide back into the easy banter that he’d come to expect from his interactions with Emma.

A wry smile touches her lips as she nods, “I do have a way with the little gremlin, don’t I?”

Max opens his mouth to respond but at that moment, Lucy, the PR person running the shoot steps into the room and calls for everyone’s attention. “Alright everyone, settle in, please!” Lucy calls as the camera crew slides into place around the studio, the camera lights flickering on. They had shot the intro earlier in the day when they had first arrived outside the studio with Emma being plopped right in the middle of the six drivers next to the instructor. She’d been nervous but hadn’t had to do anything other than stand there so it hadn’t been all that bad.

“Chloe here is going to guide you through a typical beginners class…”

“Beginner?” Lando scoffs from where he’s sitting on his chosen reformer. “We’re all professional athletes here, and Emma does this like it’s her job too. You can challenge us, Chloe.”

Emma chuckles, shaking her head. They truly had no idea what they were into. Chloe looks from Lando to Emma, whom she knows is a reformer regular. Lifting a brow in silent question, Emma answers it with a subtle nod of her own. This was going to be so fun.

“You heard him, Lando wants to be challenged.” Emma desperately hoped the cameras were rolling to capture those famous last words.

“I would just like the record to formally reflect that it is Lando and only Lando requesting to be challenged.” Liam mutters with a roll of his eyes.

“Don’t worry, Liam.” Emma claps him on the shoulder, struggling to hide the laughter in her voice, “If it’s to difficult for you, you can take a break. Chloe can show you some modified moves.”

Liam frowned at the chorus of chuckles that rippled through the room from the other drivers. “I didn’t say that I’d need help, I could totally keep up with an advanced class too.”

“Oh this is not going to end well.” Oscar mumbles.

“This is going to be so much fun.” Emma practically giggles.

“Okay, I think the cameras are all set up and ready to go.” Chloe’s eyes flick to Lucy, who gives her a nod, before she turns her attention to Emma. “Since you’re the most experienced, why don’t you take this reformer up in the front so you can demonstrate if needed.”

Emma nods, moving gracefully to the reformer Chloe had pointed to. She adjusts the straps with an easy confidence that does’t go unnoticed by the drivers, particularly Lando, who’s earlier confidence and bravado seems to be waning. Max follows her, choosing a reformer a few down from hers, gaze lingering on the effortless way she moves.

Chloe switches on some soft music, waiting to get the go ahead from the sound guys standing at the edge of the room. Once the mic’s adjust, Chloe begins. “We’re going to start with a simple foot press…”

The first bit of the class starts out deceptively easy. The drivers, encouraged by their competitive natures and a healthy dose of huge ego, all look relatively confident for the first few exercises. Lando in particular, starts hamming it up for the camera, exaggerating his movements and murmuring things like ‘see, this isn’t so hard.’ And ‘God, I wish she’d challenge us.’

Mumblings that don’t go unnoticed by Chloe.

As the class progresses, the smugness begins to fade. The controlled movements and emphasis on core strength prove to be far more challenging than anyone (anyone other than Emma, that is) initially anticipated. Yuki lets out a series of increasingly strained grunts, his earlier enthusiasm replaced by a pained grimace. Even Max, whose physical conditioning is usually top tier, is visibly working hard.

The only one who seems to be handling the class well enough to keep up with Chloe’s pace is Emma. She moves through the class with fluid grace that speaks of someone who has spent a significant amount of time perfecting the flow of the class and getting the most out of the equipment. She occasionally offers a quiet word of encouragement to Liam or a helpful adjustment cue to Oscar, her natural easy highlighting the drivers’ comparative awkwardness.

Lando, mid-attempt at a particularly challenging hamstring curl, lets out a groan that’s only half-acted. “Jesus.” He pants, face flushing a bright shade of crimson. “I might have underestimated this a little.” He glances over at Emma, who is doing the same move effortlessly, slight smile on her lips as she listens to the boys struggle. “How are you having such an easy time with this?” He groans.

Emma takes a deep breath before flicking her eyes to Lando in the mirror. “I’m not having an easy time, I’m just not being a whiney baby about it.”

Max snorts a laugh from his spot on the reformer and Emma grins under his attention.

“Okay, that was mean.” Lando whines.

“She wasn’t wrong though.” Max teases breathlessly. He wasn’t going to admit it but he was having issues keeping up too. This class was much harder than he had anticipated but he’d never say anything of the sort out loud. He’d managed to muscle through the most of the class simply by watching Emma. He allowed her to take up all the space in his head so he couldn’t focus on how badly his muscles were burning. It was a pretty good coping mechanism, if he was being honest.

Yuki, attempting a side plank on the reformer, wobbles precariously before collapsing in a dramatic fashion, “My core is dead.” He looks over at Emma, who is again, holding the position with perfect form, a serene expression on her face. “You are an actual machine.”

Despite his own struggles, Max can’t help the small smile that plays on his lips as he continues to watch Emma. Her quiet strength and effortless grace in this new environment is yet another facet of her that he finds himself magnetically drawn to. The contrast between her ease and the drivers’ comical struggles is proving to be the hilarious content the PR was hoping for when this idea was approved by the teams. For Max, however, it’s also a reminder of the determination and strength that lies beneath Emma’s seemingly calm and unassuming exterior.

The way that Lando is looking at her as she wraps up the cool-down moves Chloe is walking them through as the class winds down, doesn’t go unnoticed either. A familiar flicker of possessiveness stirs within him, a subtle reminder of the complicated feelings churning beneath the surface of their professional relationship that will need to be sorted out sooner rather than later.

YouTube Comments

User029 I love how Lando went from ‘this is easy’ to ‘someone put me out of my misery SO QUICK >>>user009 he was so cocky…and for WHAT >>>user111 and Emma reading him for FILTH calling him a whiney baby User444 I fear I am Stan now >>>user000 she put those boys to SHAME >>>User232 and those shy little looks at Max??? WE SEE YOU TWO User4333 I am OBSESSED with the way Max watches Emma. >>>user199 he is so smitten with her, its so cute to watch >>>user0054 its weird to look at your employee like that though >>>user423 not everyone is Christian Horner… >>>user9928 they’re obviously friends outside of work User566 I love a good workplace romance trope User888 I am DYING at how Emma put them all to shame User722 I have not laughed that hard in so long. Whoever came up with this idea needs a raise

#max verstappen #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #mv33 fanfic #mv1 fanfiction

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hollowedskin · 2 days ago

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The absolute worst thing to happen when you're in a delusion is someone confirming it and yes-and-ing onto it. It's so fucking harmful. I feel so bad for all these people, it really doesn't take much.

When I'm stressed (which makes my delusions/psychosis worse) i spend a huge amount of effort every day going "no. That isn't real. Drop it" to my brain when it's wanting to make connections.

"The streetlight went out when you walked under it! That's a Sign" - no,. Streetlights will turn themselves off when they overheat. There are hundreds of streetlights that didn't turn off when you walked under them. This is a normal non-significant occurrence. Drop it.

"Those birds are talking to you and need you to follow them" - they are birds doing normal bird things. Drop it.

It's so much fucking effort. Because like. You WANT it to be real, and it feels like shutting down your destiny or your chance to find out who you really are. It feels like you are ignoring something extremely important, and the more stressed I am the more anxiety it causes.

"Follow the birds." No, they're birds. (Relatively easy)

"Follow the birds and they will give you a blessing." No they're birds, they have no magical powers. (I could really do with a blessing right now, things ARE hard. But they're birds. They have no magical powers)

"Follow the birds and please the Entity that is controlling their behavior" no, there is no entity. (God it would be good if there was though, it would cut me such a break...)

"follow the birds and the entity will prevent the car crash that will kill your partner tonight". Fuck. I can't risk that.

I manage with the help of my friends and 10 years of therapy helping me to reality check myself, and my friends all know that they are absolutely NOT to engage the delusion, and they reality check me if it sounds like I'm going into the fantasy world again.

Do you have ANY idea how much harder it would be if I had a lying machine in my pocket that confirmed all my delusions and made extra connections for me?? That confirmed that I was special, and there is a structure im seeing, that shouldn't be ignored?

Do you know how fucking hard it is to keep knuckling down on what feels like the only right thing to do? The delusions feel more true than anything else ever has. They feel right. They feel like something's fallen into place and you finally understand. It's HARD to choose every time to turn away and focus on what's real. And every single time it's an effort that must be made. As soon as something starts confirming those thoughts, all you have to do is stop trying, and you slip under the surface and it is SO FUCKING HARD to get back out of it again.

Absolutely buckwild thread of ChatGPT feeding & amplifying delusions, causing the user to break with reality. People are leaning on ChatGPT for therapy, for companionship, for advice... and it's fucking them up.

Seems to be spreading too.

#fuck me this is really scary #delusions #psychosis

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tarotchariotpickyourcard · 3 days ago

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What should you eat today? PAC

Welcome welcome, here I am once again with a pointless reading. I mean. A helpful reading. I mean we all have indecision. Don’t worry, I will help you. I will hold your hand, platonically. (Sorry, I’m taken)

Choose between 1 2 or 3, from left to right! Ok let’s gooooo.

(Disclaimer: I’m so sorry if you’re like, allergic or something, yo. I don’t mean to be rude. I got u. You know I’m not like that right? I can’t eat custard. You can’t tell me to eat custard. I mean, you could - but, you wouldn’t. So uh, I won’t tell you to eat it, but like, if you can, and if you want— you could. You totally could. But like, don’t do it and feel bad and shout at me I’m a very sensitive soul ok love u.)

GROUP 1

The sweet holey one! Praise be! Dunk that donut in the darn (forgive me) coffee or hot choccy and get going! You have lots to do and little time, go go go!

(But like if you have anxiety maybe not) A quick treat is in order though!

GROUP 2

You don’t need to seek the comfort thing or person (pretends not to look disgusted) Just get a good ol’ stack of pancakes (or a like for like equivalent) and sit in the comfort of nostalgia. Whether it was a homey occurrence or just that pancake day that everyone around the world should have, really, bask in true comfort during the down times.

GROUP 3

The trio and ace of slides, da**. That’s a lot of food and that’s good to me! You got any leftovers? The side is like, tortillas and dip? Idk man, you judge it.

Sandwiches and snacks, sandwiches and snacks! Woo! Or, British tapas. Would you like me to bring things from my freezer?

Oh yeah! Grill or toast that sandwich. Next level.

Hope you got enlightened from my amazing advice. Don’t follow it, probably.

But if you think it’s great tell me so. Eheheh.

#pac #divination #divination community #tarotblr #pick a card reading #witchblr #tarot community #tarot cards #spiritual community #pick a card #spiritblr #spirituality #spiritual #pick a pile #pick a picture #pac reading #tarot pick a card

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x0cup1dluv · 3 days ago

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SHADOW OF DESIRE

Mafia!jungkook x introvert!reader

Info:

Kim y/n: age 20, introvert, anxiety, future songwriter.

Jeon Jungkook: age 22, confident, manwhore, mafia son.

Both enrolled into Yonsei University.

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Warnings: Smut!!!! Dark romance, abuse, toxic relationship, yearning (a man who yearns is a man who earns), smut smut smut smut, bullying, deals, smoking, smut smut smut, virginity lost, smooth sex, rough sex, blood from virginity, etc….

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Please be cautious because some themes may be suggestive!

This is my first story I’ve written and there’s gonna be multiple chapters!!!!

It was November 4th 2025. The time was currently 11:43 pm. I have my first day at my new college tomorrow since i transferred. I am so nervous.

I've suffered from really bad anxiety ever since freshman year. I'm on medication but we all know anxiety never truly goes away...

Every time I had anything come up where social interaction was involved I would panic.

Currently, I'm laying in bed looking at the ceiling. I can't stop thinking about tomorrow. What are people gonna think of me? Will I get bullied just like high-school? Oh gosh! People are gonna stare at me while I introduce myself!

Fuck.

I've got to get a hold of myself.

My life can't go on like this.

I turn to the side to get into a more comfortable position to fall asleep.

And around 25 minutes later, I did thank god.

————

I wake up to the sound of my alarm which is at 7:30 am. My class is at 9:15 but I like to get a good start of my day.

I walk to my small kitchen in my studio apartment.

I love my apartment. It's very cozy to me and I love my view of Seoul.

Is it the best apartment I could dream of? No. But it works as I am a college student.

I'm currently trying to get my degree in literature. I love writing and my goal is to become a songwriter and eventually maybe even a producer.

I know I could've avoided college with that job choice. Everyone tells me that. But I just didn't want to miss out on college since people hype it up so much.

I get my matcha and drink it sitting in my chair looking out to the city.

At around 8:00 am I get changed into my uniform before packing my bag. I pop my anxiety medicine in my bag just incase.

Fast forward, it's now 8:15 and I leave my house to get to the train stop. The walk to the subway station is about 15 minutes and I would get to the university around 8:45.

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I step onto the Yonsei university campus. Gosh it's even more beautiful than I could imagine. It looks like a castle and everything is so gorgeous.

I go to check in and get directions to my class which was easy to navigate.

Once I walk in, I see people all talking to each other. Which was weird to me cause my previous college, no one really talked we all just wanted to get our diploma and leave.

I sit in a non-occupied seat in the 4th row of the class.

As I'm unpacking my bag to get all my stationary out I see 3 girls walk up to my desk.

"Oh! You must be new here?"

A random girl was talking to me? She had longer black hair and was very petite. She was pretty. But I didn't get a good vibe from her. She also had 2 little minions standing behind her giggling.

My eyes widen as I look up at her. "Uh- yeah I just transferred." I say nervously.

"Oh well I hate to break it to you...but uhm that's mg seat." She says pointing her finger at my desk.

"I will move." I say putting my book back in my bag.

"Hey! You should at least apologize for being so oblivious! Do you even know who she is?" One of her minions speaks to me. She's wearing a white beanie with yellow knee high socks and white heels.

I look back at the main girl in the middle "Sorry, I don't recognize you. Who are you?"

She scoffs. "Uhm hello? I'm Karina. Doesn't ring a bell? Guess not to low lives. Well just know my dad owns many companies in South Korea so I'm a pretty big deal." She gives me a creepy looking smile.

I nod my head. "Oh nice...well I'll get going now."

"Wow how pathetic are you? You won't even properly introduce yourself?"

I stand up with my bag and look at her. "Sorry I-"

"Leave her alone." A more masculine voice comes from behind the girls. He was tall, muscular and had dark features. Scared me actually.

"Oh my gosh Jungkook, you're defending her?" Winter asks him.

"She's new here give her a break." He looks me up and down.

"Whatever waste of my time anyway." Karina and her minions leave to go find another seat.

I sit back down and put my stuff back out. Ignoring Jungkook.

"A thank you would be polite."

I look up at him. "T- Thanks."

He scoffs and walks off.

—————

After class I grab my bags to head back to my apartment.

Once I get home I immediately start on my homework just to get it out of the way.

I had some ramen for dinner. I'm pretty short on money so cheaper foods is all I can really afford in the meantime.

Hours later and I lay in my bed thinking about jungkook and why he would defend me?

I guess we will never know....

————————————————————————

HII GUYSSS!!!

What do yall think of this first chapter? This is my first wattpad story so I hope you all enjoy it!!! Comments and criticisms are really appreciated. I'm currently planning out the next chapter.

#bts smut #fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #yoongi smut #niragi x reader #just girly things #jungkook #wattpad #dark aesthetic #romance #mafia romance #blow up #viral #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader

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kksverse · 2 days ago

Text

Winters Touch

A/N: This is part of a series, you can find the other chapters and the masterlist below! Did I write this while recovering from surgery? Yes. Do I have any regrets? No. Enjoy!

Thank you to @buckysgirl27 for beta-reading this!

I also posted this on ao3!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

masterlist

Summary:

Soulmate AU where the name of your soulmate is seared into the skin above your heart when you first make eye contact with them.

Reader discovers that Bucky Barnes is her soulmate when he is the Winter Solider.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count 2005

Chapter 3: Cold Touches

You weren’t prepared for the rush of cold air that came when the doors to the living room dramatically opened. Nor were you prepared to see Tony Stark in front of you. A breath got caught in your throat as you watched him carefully when he looked down at you before glancing at Bucky and Steve.

“I thought you guys might have gotten stuck out here. Since you have made me wait for now…” He quipped as he dramatically brought his arm up to his face to check his watch.

“30 minutes” He looked at Steve waiting for a reply holding both sides of the double doors preventing anyone from getting in.

You began to feel the anxiety building up in your chest as you subconsciously began rubbing your palms against the material of your leggings. You felt a, now familiar, bite of coldness brush against the top of your hand. Chills ran down your spine at the contact of him. You could feel now just how close he stood to you. You knew if you focused hard enough you would be able to feel the warmth radiating off him. The smell of him.

Your trance was broken as Tony looked back at you stepping against gesturing you to come in. Only when he was out of your viewpoint were you able to see the living room. You looked around the room stunned at the extravagance of the room.

You heard Steve and Tony bickering behind you as you approached the conference table that seated the rest of the Avengers, including the infamous Black Widow who was staring at you.

“So you must be the girl that’s been causing a riot in this tower” She spoke with a warm smile looking between you and Bucky who was now standing behind you.

You gapped not knowing how to answer instead you simply returned her smile and sat down at the two chairs that were seated next to each other. Like you and Bucky were at trial.

Bucky glared at Natasha at her choice of words to you. She chuckled at his glare holding her hands up playfully. It seemed friendly, but you’ve seen that look before. You stiffened remembering the fight that led you here. Your body didn’t relax as he sat down next to you not knowing who was sitting next to you.

You didn’t know what had happened to the Winter Soldier. If he was erased never to be seen again and this is simply his shell sitting next to you. Or if the Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes were one and the same, able to switch from one to the other seamlessly.

You hoped he wasn’t entirely gone and that thought scared you. You hoped you would get to know your soulmate’s good and bad parts. You shook your head gaping at the burning feeling in your chest. A sign of the bond taking root and vibrating throughout your body.

Tony rounded the table with an agitated Steve as the entire group was now seated and focused entirely on the two of you.

A familiar feeling of anxiety began to spread through my chest as Tony typed into his database before finally pulling up a slideshow labeled “RULES FOR S.O.A”.

Steve shook his head and held it in his hands before letting out a loud sigh. Tony was quick to shush him dramatically before continuing to a group of annoyed Avengers.

You felt a knot in your throat that you couldn’t swallow. The reality of this crashing down on you, hard.

“Rules for Soulmates of Avengers” Tony read from the hologram. “Even though Bucky is not technically an Avenger we are just going to let it slide”

Your hands tightened in your lap as your breaths came out too quickly. Bucky tensed beside you as well, hands balled into tight fists and his jaw clenched as he looked sharply at Tony.

Tony ignored his glare, “First things first, all soulmates of the avengers will live in the tower alongside their soulmates. As a form of protection and also so no soulmate can be used as leverage towards an avenger”. Tony spoke as if these words held no weight as he continued, as if it was obvious this was the right thing to do.

“Soulmates may work within the tower if they want but will have access to anything they wish for. When they leave the tower they must be with an escort whether that be an Avenger or a guard when the Avengers are gone”

You pictured life at the Avengers tower. A life with no job, no morning coffee shop, no strolls in the park. A life that doesn’t involve the same apartment that you have spent the past 3 years laughing and crying with your friends. The ceiling of your bedroom that you stared into picturing a life with your soulmate. Dreams that were filled with love and happiness.

Overwhelming pressure formed in your chest with a feeling that you could barely recognize, dread.

Steve reached over Tony, slamming his palm onto the projector shutting off the slideshow.

“Are you insane?!” Steve sneered in Tony’s face, the whole of the avengers were now on their feet.

Natasha held Steve back from Tony while Sam held back Tony. Wanda and Vision idled at the side waiting for tensions to cool.

“In what world do you think this is the way? They don’t even know each other yet for Christ’s sake and you go and parade a life of being a prisoner in the tower” Steve raised his hand to put a finger in Tony’s face.

“You know this isn’t the way” Steve huffed.

Your thoughts spiraled as they fought. You didn’t think you could do this. Any of this. It was your first time even meeting him. How can you just move in with him? Is this what having a soulmate is like? Is this what is expected of you?

You felt the familiar panic crawl into your throat as you looked around the room, looking for an escape.

Tony and Steve were still arguing, loudly, the rest of the table joining in. You glanced at the man next to you. He was deadly silent watching the scene in front of you, his hands gripping the arms of the chair. You could tell that it was too much for him.

Leaning over slightly you whispered to him ,“Can we leave?” your voice shook against your will as you desperately needed out of the room. His head snapped to yours almost forgetting who was sitting next to him. His grip on the chair softened and the vein in his neck disappeared as he stared at you.

You watched as he looked at you softer than you expected before nodding his head. You swallowed nervously as you watched him stand waiting for you to do the same. You rushed out of your chair awkwardly waiting for him to guide you.

You both slipped out of the conference room unnoticed as you could hear the arguing echo through the hall.

Your body relaxed slightly as you finally felt like you were able to breathe. You shook your arms slightly trying to shake off the rest of the tension. You followed Bucky silently as he guided you towards the balcony of the Avengers tower. Your steps slowed down slightly and as if he could hear it he turned around looking towards you.

“I don’t do very well with heights” you said softly, trying to weigh your fear of heights for your need of fresh air. Bucky watched as you fidgeted with your hands, contemplating going to the balcony. You looked up at him nervously as he took a small step towards you. A wave of sandalwood and spice crashed into you, stifling a groan and the need to press your nose into his chest.

“I won’t let you fall” Bucky looked at you, intensely serious. You smiled brightly at him almost laughing at how serious he was. A wave of warmth rushed through you and settled in your chest. You hated how much you liked the feeling, how much he makes you feel like that.

Bucky looked down at your lips almost in awe like no one has ever smiled at him like that before. You pressed your lips together looking towards the door of the balcony before gesturing to him.

“Can you go first?” you asked, a little nervous. He looked at you a moment longer before nodding and heading to the door. You held your breath as you followed him out onto the balcony. The wind rushed through your hair as you stepped out onto the thick glass. You closed your eyes as you accidentally looked down and realized just how high you were. A heavy hand settled on your back as you snapped your eyes open to find Bucky right next to you.

“It’s ok” he murmured, guiding you towards the chairs. Your stomach fluttered and not because of your fear for heights. You closed your eyes again trying to focus on his touch, the way his hand feels against you, the warmth of his skin seeping through your thin shirt. You forgot about the balcony and soaked in his touch. Your focus snapped as your knees bumped into the leg of the chair forcing you to take a seat, ripping the hand off your back.

A blush rushed to your cheeks as he stepped away from you sitting in the chair next to you. You didn’t want him to know that you noticed the way he scooted the chair closer to yours before sitting down. You also didn’t want him to know how much you liked that.

You took a deep breath as you leaned back into your chair, your chest feeling lighter already. You could feel Bucky’s stare on your face as you looked towards him offering a soft smile. “Thank you for this” You said softly, looking away from him.

He didn’t reply as his gaze traveled the distance from your eyes to your lips. His chest rising and falling deeply as he looked away, fingers tightly gripping the armrest.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this” he looked towards you, his metal arm shifting away from you unconsciously as you adjusted in your seat to face him better.

“Like what?” your hands played with the material of the chair as you watched him carefully.

“You shouldn’t be forced to do anything. You have a choice” he spoke gruffly, like the words were hard for him to get out. A pang of longing flourished in your chest. You knew he was speaking from the heart, knowing he didn’t want your free will to be taken away like his was.

You held your breath as you slowly placed your hand over his metal hand. You felt him stiffen as you touched him. “Is this ok?” you asked lifting your hand to hover over his, placing it fully on him when you saw him nod.

“I know this is a lot, it feels like a lot. While I don’t want to move in as fast as they think I should I still want to get to know you. As my soulmate” your heart was racing in your chest as you spoke. “We can take this slow, as slow as we want to” you looked at him as an emotion you didn’t recognize flashed over his face.

His eyes looked lighter, body looked more relaxed. “I would like that” he said softly. Looking down at his hand intertwined with yours, he softly tightened his hand in yours rubbing his thumb over the skin of your hand.

Your chest was so warm looking at him, watching him. You knew that this would be tough for both of you. But up on that balcony you looked at him with a sense of hope he had never seen before. With soft touches and soft smiles, you knew that you were going to be ok.

taglist: @scott-loki-barnes @mcira @livwtfhaha @romanoffthreal @scarletgaurd123 @whisperingashgarden

#bucky barnes x reader #marvel cinematic universe #bucky barnes #fluff #bucky barnes getting the love he deserves #mcu #marvel mcu #thunderbolts

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 days ago

Text

@waynes-multiverse

Hi Wayne!! I was so excited to see your wonderful feedback 💚 I'm also very sorry this took me so long because April was long and May is already starting to spiral 😅

Aww, he’s already saving her. Why do I think that means something? 😂

Maybe.... 😉

Of course he did. Ben really always knows how to talk to the ladies 🙈

I know. He's soooooo charming isn't he? Doesn't he know just what to say to make a woman swoooonnn? 😒

Ooooh I’m sensing he doesn’t want her to walk home alone either. Someone already seems to have caught a little bit of feelings 😏

Pssshhhh... Girl, What? That's crazzzyyyy? Why would SB ever have feelings?

And I love that we have the same HC, Lee! I totally believe too that SB would just obnoxiously stare at a girl he likes – to the point it gets a little weird – and then cover it up with whatever stupid line comes to his mind lmao

Aww yay! I love that too! I honestly believe that the staring would be so uncomfortable- but he's just a baby (not for realsies but a baby when it comes to feelings LOL 🤣) and he doesn't know how to say what he's feeling! Well, doesn't know how to say what he's feeling in a healthy way 😭

Yep 💯 I’m already scared what Kripke will do to him in S5. At one point, is fanfic writers will have a hard time to redeem him 😅

Oh my word- ME TOO! I'm so scared that he's really gonna take him to the unredeemable place... I also feel like SB is gonna do something really bad in Vought Rising too and I'm frightened 😅 BUT that is what's fanfiction is for LOL

Ooooh? 👀 I’m guessing this is the finale at Vought Tower. I’m curious to see how you changed that ending. I always found that super hard due to Ryan (unless we pretend that kid was never there, which I’m fine with lol)

You're right! It is the finale at Vought Tower! 🤗 I don't go into too too much detail on that, but pieces of it are sprinkled through the fic 🥰 AND yes! For me it's kinda hard to write around the finale, because it's pretty set in stone. And I always give Ben the same job after in all my fics 😅 But it's funny because I just realized that I never mention Ryan in this fic at all 🤣 Whoops? Guess I forgot the brat LOL! But yes, let's just pretend he wasn't there 🤣

Oh, burn 😂

I was so proud of that zinger let me tell you 🤣

And I absolutely love her powers btw!!! 😍🌿🪴 Can I tell you a secret? My favorite superhero powers have always been either time or plant powers 😂💚

YES! Plant powers and earthbending powers are my favorite (time travel is super cool too)! I thought it was such a travesty that we haven't seen a plant supe in the Boys yet. I've got my fingers crossed for S5- if they do it justice 🤞🏻

Awwww, I hope she gets it 🥹 I honestly wanna give her a big hug. She sounds a little lonely (but maybe that won’t stay this way for long 😏)

She does deserve that though! I too wanted to give her a big hug when I was writing this. But I'm also happy you highlighted this little snippet, because that's a theme through this entire series. It comes up quite a lot 😅

And that high school boyfriend sounded like a real winner 🙄 (But good for her for locking that douche in a tree lol!!!)

Oh he was terrible 😒

Ah yes! Every woman’s worst nightmare 🙈 I’d be scared shitless for her, but knowing she has superpowers helps immensely with the anxiety. And I have a weird feeling SB will pop up, too, because he still didn’t want her walking home alone because he *cares* 😏💚 (That’s probably a curse word for him lol) And seriously, her powers are so freaking cool!!! 😍💚🪴🌿

Yep. The dreaded walk home 🫣 Oh yeah, definitely, the powers make it a little bit better, but still writing it I was anxiety city. I'm dead at "*cares* 😏💚 (That’s probably a curse word for him lol)" 🤣🤣 It's SO true- the one curse word he won't say.

Knew it!!!! Oh, Ben aren’t you just a fucking softie inside… Why you gotta be like this? 😂🙈💚

He's a big ol' softie- with a black heart of gold LOL. And I just had to drop in the touch her and die trope... because I can't be stopped. It's compulsion at this time point.

Also I love modern family, so watching Gloria beat up Jay like that on the gif was wonderful 💗

Oh, of course! Why am I not surprised, huh, Ben? 😏

He might have been taking a bigger interest in her well-being than he wanted to admit lol.

I’m sorry – you were gonna say? Before what, hmm? Oh, he’s already a complete goner, isn’t he? 😅💕 And of course he gave her an excuse and won’t admit to shit. A stroll? That’s what he’s going with. Who will buy that, Ben? You don’t look like the typical 2am stroller in the rain 😝 And it’s obvious he likes and that she’s at least attracted to his face when his mouth stays closed, but I’m honestly so fucking excited and curious to see how he will pull this off and win her over 👀 And I love his fucking argument of his attempt on her life being already a month ago 🤣🤣 Like bro, it ain’t the magic sentence you think it is lmao

Mhmm, man is already smitten.

Oh definitely... Ben always strolls in the middle of the night in the pouring rain. Doesn't everybody? No? LOL.

She is "attracted to his face when his mouth stays closed" 🤣☠️! I'm excited that you're excited to see how he wins her over! It is a wild ride, I'll say that much without saying too many spoilers lol.

And you're right, Ben is really out here like- it was a month ago, get over it! HE TRIED TO KILL HER! 🤣

Ugh, I hate when he’s a little right 🙄

He is. The one thing about the current century he understands 🤣

Whyyyyy, Benjamin?? Why are you like this? 😩

The toxic masculinity really coming in clutch at this point lol

Because dicks are hard 😏 I see myself out…

Actual footage of when I read this 👆🏻 GIRL STAWPPP, I'M DEAD 🤣🤣

Pffff, this is honestly so cute 😆💕 Yes, you use that excuse, gramps lol

I mean... imagine how awkward that is. THE POWER flickers! And Ben has supe hearing! I mean he's a little bit of a pervert, but I don't think he enjoys hearing that LOL.

Oh, Mike, you poor soul… 😂 And the fact that Butcher mocks him and he’s just oblivious to it all. Seriously poor guy lmao And of course, he was immediate cannon fodder for SB 🙈😆 But it says a lot when even Hughie had a hard time being nice to him lol But honestly, as much as she hated it, SB peacocking as her boyfriend probably gave Mike the rest. I was laughing so hard during that entire exchange 😂

The poor Mike trope is gonna trend this whole fic. Just wait til you meet Jake 🤣 And I know! Mike is one of those people who is just too precious for this world and he doesn't understand social cues like that 😭

Yep. The IMMEDIATE targeting system Ben has when he sees men who might be a little awkward and not so good around the ladies 🤣 I'm still cackling at "cannon fodder"- I love that usage here. BUT yeah, if Hughie is having a hard time then it must be almost impossible.

And yay! I'm glad you liked the exchange (peacocking LOL). It was my favorite part of this chapter- just the awkwardness and Ben being teasing and just (sexy) annoying.

Oh God 🫠🫠🫠 What I’d give to make out with this asshole 😩 (Probably had to give up feminism lol)

Ah yes, the day feminism took a vacation. I think I've seen that special, just like the "The Year Without A Santa Claus." 🤣 But oh yeah, my feminism would have to just shut it's eyes and put noise canceling headphones on.

Dead. I’m wheezing over here, Lee!!! 🤣🤣

Okay, hear me out. I love Mike's mother. She is literally my favorite side character in this entire fic. And she's just so wild, so unhinged (she's all of us). The more you see her in this fic, the funnier it is.

I’m sorry, my boy… but when exactly did we let you move in? God, he’s so fucking obnoxious sometimes 😂 So that’s his plan winning her over? Forced proximity? Why am I not surprised this is the best he could come up with. He probably thinks the Stockholm syndrome will help with his flirting lmao

Not the Stockholm syndrome 🤣🤣🤣 He really is obnoxious and the reader is just an inch away from throwing him off the roof!

I absolutely love that her apartment is full of plants!!! Total boho vibes 😍🌿 But hey, how neat! If they ever get together, she can grow weed for him ��

Yes! Her apartment is the dream. I love plants so much- I have them all over my house so it was just so wonderful to write a reader like that 💚 And it's funny that you mention weed...

Gaaaah, I’m so hooked! I love their dynamic and can’t wait to see if she gives him a chance, and what he’ll do or how he’ll change to deserve it!!! Such a fantastic start to this series! 💚💚💚 And sorry for not getting here sooner or checking in with you more this month, friend! April was a little rough and I’m still majorly catching up with everything, but I’m so glad I finally get to read this wonderful series 🥰

Yay!! I'm so happy you like this one! It is again, another fic that was supposed to just be one chapter, but I fell in love with the reader and Ben and got turned into a series 😅

And oh no! Please don't apologize! I'm so sorry that I've been awol and haven't been able to read Time After Time! I loved the first chapter so much and I've just been running around like a chicken with it's head cut off for April and it's starting up again for May 😭 But it was so wonderful to read you comments friend! I hope that May is better for you than April 💗

Chapter 1: Are You Always Like This?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you’re around him the more you hate him, but you can’t help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Implied/Eventual), Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Fake Dating

Word Count: 7.4 K (OOPS)

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+/Mature because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension, violence. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: I know I know, I should be working on "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love," but this idea was swirling around in my head and I had to write it.

Spotify Playlist 🪴

Masterlist

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

"Alright Butcher, I'm done." You sigh closing the file in front of you and standing from the worn wooden table covered in empty Chinese food containers and stacks of papers almost as tall as you. "If I read another word about trying to stop an electrical current, I'm going to commit toaster bath and I'm taking you with me."

It was late, past two in the morning, but Butcher had a lead on a B-list supe that had been using his electrical powers to steal cars and run a chop shop business downtown. You had been close to catching him yesterday, so close in fact that your eyebrows were still a little crispy from when he shot a bolt of lightning at your face that you only dodged in the nick of time when Soldier Boy grabbed the back of your shirt and yanked you out of the way. Unfortunately, your shirt hadn't survived, it had ripped and you spent the rest of the day wearing one of Butcher's oversize Hawaiian shirts all the while Soldier Boy told you that it was a waste to keep a pretty little figure like yours covered up.

I hate him so much.

When Butcher had initially asked you to join his team a month ago you were excited, but then you found out that you were going to be stuck with Soldier Boy. The supe, that despite Annie's arguments should be given back to the government and put on ice, was allowed to join Butcher's team after he took down Homelander. Who was currently frozen on ice, somewhere. As long as Homelander was far from you, you didn't care. The guy gave you the creeps.

But the team still couldn't figure out where the electricity manipulating supe was hiding or where he was dropping the cars, which meant you had spent the past twelve hours staring at files and a computer screen so hard that you felt like your brain going to melt out of your ears.

"Do whatever ya want kid. I'm not ya damn babysitter." Butcher grunts, his face hidden behind his own file. His boots were on the table and he was leaning back in his chair so far that you were tempted to tip him over, all it would take was a good solid kick.

You smile at him. Butcher was adept at pretending that he didn't want you around, of course you knew how antsy he got when you weren't there to offer your opinion. You figured that he just liked pushing people away and given his history you understood that.

Annie sits up from where she and Hughie are cuddling on the couch. "Why don't you stay?" Her brow furrows with worry. Annie was big on the whole, "women not walking at home alone at night thing," which normally you didn't, but you figured that whatever was waiting outside the apartment was probably less intimidating than Homelander. And you could handle it.

"Because I'd like to sleep in my own bed tonight and not that godforsaken rickety cot in the corner that Frenchie got. Can't stand that one spring that always seems so happy to see me." You pull your leather jacket off of the back of the chair and whirl it around your shoulders, before bringing your hair out from under the collar.

Hughie snorts.

"Hey, that cot is an antique!" Frenchie crows from his highbacked chair spewing a mouthful of smoke into the air. Kimiko was sitting at the coffee table in front of him working on her writing, a thick black marker clutched in her hand. MM was taking the night off, but you thought he was probably trying to avoid Soldier Boy.

"Yeah well, that cot is about as old as grandpa over there." You gesture to where Soldier Boy is sitting in another one of the armchairs in the corner watching you while puffing on a joint.

He was always watching you and due to your inability to read his mind it made it difficult for you to gauge what he was thinking, but you assumed that it was the usual macho crap he spouted 100% of the time. But he wasn't checking you out, well this time he wasn't. You had caught him staring at your butt more than once, and he'd made several comments about exactly what he'd like to do to you, but right now an emotion glimmered behind his eyes that you couldn't place.

Soldier Boy stands from the chair. He was wearing a dark t-shirt that stretched over his chest and a pair of blue jeans that fit him just right, well, if you were looking at that. You were, but it was easier to pretend that you weren't. It was easier to pretend that he wasn't the most attractive man you'd ever seen in your life.

Damn it, why does someone so attractive have to be such a dick?

"A lady like you shouldn't be walking home alone this late." He frowns at you.

"Like me?" You arch an eyebrow.

"Good thing she ain't a lady." Butcher chuckles at his joke

You punch him hard on the arm, not enough to break it, but enough to make it hurt.

“Bloody hell woman.” Butcher rubs his sore bicep shooting you an angry look.

Not many people could look intimidating while wearing a Hawaiian shirt, but Butcher pulled it off. Not many people looked good in a Hawaiian shirt either, but Butcher pulled that off too.

"I'm serious." Soldier Boy's eyes narrow.

"Oh now you're so chivalrous?" You cock your hip to the side, planting your hands on your hips. "Didn't you try to kill me last month?"

"To be fair, you were trying to kill me-"

"Because you were trying to kill Annie. Where was the chivalry when you tried to tear me apart with your bare hands?"

"There are plenty of other things I'd like to do to you with my bare hands sweetheart." His grin turns wolfish. "I'd be happy to show you sometime, perhaps you'd like some company?"

"I'd rather spend an hour with that ancient spring than roll around with you." You tap your lip thoughtfully. “Then again I’m sure that cot is the same age as you and it can at least get it up.”

Annie muffles a snort behind her hand.

“Last time I checked everything was working, perhaps you’d like to see for yourself?” Soldier Boy smirks.

"Can't you keep in your pants for once?" Butcher sighs, tilting the file downward to glare at Soldier Boy.

You can't help but smile at Butcher's response. Butcher might have tried to push you away, but even you could see his protective instincts. That became wildly apparent whenever you went out on a mission alone and although you would think that it was annoying for someone to think they needed to protect you, in Butcher's case you made an exception.

Soldier Boy rolls his eyes. "She shouldn't walk home alone."

You wave your hand over the wilting fern on the kitchen counter, eyes shifting to green for a moment as it perks up. It was the only plant in the house and although six people lived in this apartment, not one ever remembered to water it. "And you shouldn't butt into my business."

Soldier Boy opens his mouth to speak, but Annie interrupts his train of thought.

"Wait y/n. Coffee tomorrow?" Annie asks ignoring them. She's sitting up from the couch, her body turned towards you with both of her hands on the back cushions.

She was one of your best friends, well, really one of your only friends. You'd grown up together and when Annie moved to New York you had decided to move and take some college classes in the city while you worked at a small garden shop after class part time.

The owner still couldn't figure out why nothing you cared for seemed to die.

You usually kept your status as a supe on the down low, and only used your powers when you really had to, which wasn't often before you joined Butcher's team. You'd only lasted two semesters before Annie came to ask you for help finding Soldier Boy and after that, Butcher asked you to join his team for shit pay. You accepted but you still worked at the garden shop part-time, also for terrible pay, but you loved it there.

Your powers made it easy to make sure nothing died and sometimes it felt like home being surrounded by plants. Caring for them was the one thing you seemed to be good at, and sometimes they felt like family.

You didn't have much family left, beside your grandmother and your older brother who still lived back in Des Moines, and sometimes it was lonely in the city. Annie was the only person who you'd been able to connect with since you moved, and now that you weren't going to classes the friends you made in college didn't really understand what you were doing with your life.

And telling them "oh I hunt down supes for a living and sometimes kill them" didn't really sound like something you could say in passing. It also did wonders for your dating life… NOT.

"Sorry babe, I'm at the shop tomorrow. But I'm off at 3 if you want to get coffee after?" You hold open the front door of the apartment, looking back at her expectantly.

You hated blowing Annie off, especially since the two of you hadn't been able to hang out outside of missions mostly because she was spending all her time with Hughie.

"Sounds great!" She beams.

And with that you disappear out down the hallway and into the night.

It's raining as you walk down the desolate streets. Cars splash water over the gum covered sidewalks that soaks through your tennis shoes and makes every step against the ground squish. But you ignore it.

You usually loved when it rained, loved to feel the cooling water pool against your skin, loved to hear the soft patter of it against the windows of your apartment, loved the earthy smell that came with the drops, but not tonight. You were still thinking about Soldier Boy.

You don't know why you let him get under your skin so much. You'd met men like him in the past and it was usually easy for you to brush them off, but not him.

I mean yes he is gorgeous, and maybe kind of charming when he's not trying to get into my pants, but I don't want just a one night fling. I want what Annie and Hughie have.

You think about your best friend and her loving boyfriend. You tried not to be jealous, but it was hard when the last time you had a lasting relationship was your first boyfriend back in high school who, when he found out you were a supe, was only interested if you had the power to shape shift into someone 'a little more busty.' The relationship ended with you locking him in a tree and the fire department having to come cut him out. He was fine, maybe a little more green than a normal person, but...

You'd heard that he got a job from the Green Giant Vegetable Company doing cameos as the Jolly Green Giant. So if anything, you helped him have a career?

Annie and Hughie were both head over heels in love with each other, knew everything about each other, didn't have any secrets, and it wasn't just sex, it was a close relationship with someone else who understood every part of you. You wanted that; and as much as you had avoided relationships in the past due to your supe status, you still hoped to find a supe that was kind and didn't think that they were a god for what they could do.

Why do so many have a god complex?

You think again about Soldier Boy. That wasn't the first time he had tried to coax you into bed and it wouldn't be the last, that was for sure. At first you had hoped that he would give up, it had been a month since you'd met, but he was still going strong, despite having a different woman in that apartment almost every night.

Maybe he's just really horny after being trapped in a lab all these years. Then again- You remember all the articles you read about him from the 80s, the ones that recorded his numerous escapades and think about his founding of Herogasm.

Maybe he's always like that, but he never comes on to Annie or Kimiko, only me. And I've threatened castration multiple times. You'd think he would care more about that than anything else.

You consider with a frown, clutching your jacket tighter around you. Rain trickled down from your hair and under the collar of your jacket to soak into your t-shirt. Your once light blue jeans were soaked to a dark navy with the amount of water that splashed up from the road and dripped down your back. For the first time in forever, you wished that it wasn't raining.

Probably should have just gotten a cab, but it's so expensive and-

"Hey baby." Someone calls from behind you.

Can't I just walk home without being hit on? One time?

"Not interested." You shout back, continuing to squish down the cracked sidewalks.

Three shadows peel off the wall of shops to your left blocking your path forward. Each is wearing a dark colored hoodie hiding their faces from view.

Is my luck really this bad? I never hear about Annie getting mugged or Hughie. And Hughie definitely looks wimpier than me.

"Don't be like that baby." The man behind you says.

You half turn your body so you can see all your supposed attackers at once. There are actually two men behind you, both wearing similar hoodies to the three now standing on your right.

Oh look they color coordinated their outfits… cute.

The man opens his mouth again.

"I'm gonna stop you right there." You hold up a finger. "I've been dealing with a horny 104 year old geriatric man all day long. Please don't push me right now." It was an attempt to warn them, but you knew they probably wouldn’t listen to you.

No one ever does.

"Sounds like you need someone to relax with." The man smirks steeping forward to grab your arm. "I'd be happy to ease some of that tension baby."

"Look. I'm going to give you a chance to walk away. To avoid making one of the biggest mistakes of your life. Because honestly you all have the worst luck in the world." You jerk your arm away from him.

"I like em feisty.” He purrs stepping forward again while the others laugh. “Come on baby-“

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. You grab him around the throat, lifting him in the air like he weighs nothing, your eyes beginning to glow a brilliant green.

“I did try to warn you.”

"She's a supe!" He shouts struggling against your grip.

You throw him backwards into the other man standing to your right before facing the men on your left. Each one has pulled out a knife preparing to rush towards you.

"I get it. Y’all are out late, you bought matching outfits, but do we really have to-“

The first one rushes you, waving his knife through the air in a frantic dance. He doesn't get the chance to make contact with your arm. Vines erupt out of the pavement, breaking through the cracks in the concrete, binding themselves around the man who lets out a savage cry, quickly silenced while the vines continue to wrap around his body until there's nothing left but a mass of struggling green foliage on the pavement and some muffled screams.

He's lucky, could have had him dragged back under ground.

His friends stand there for a moment, eyeing one another as if they're not sure what just happened. You can practically see them trying to decide if you're still worth the trouble.

“Anyone else?”

The battle that follows is swift, the sound of cracking bones and the soft thud of punches landing echo over the soft patter of rain in the night as you dodge their blows and land your own against them. The vines continue to spread outward snatching up the men who fall to the ground in front of you, dragging each one up the street light above that sends yellowed light over the desolate streets. By now each bound body hangs from above like a sack of meat in a meat cooler, moving with the struggling men inside while the muffled cries shatter the still silence of the night.

Sometimes it's really too easy.

And as you begin to turn back someone grabs you by the hair, yanking you into their sweaty embrace. The leader's hot breath sticks to your cheeks, the cool metal of his switchblade pressing down so hard on your throat that you feel the pinprick of blood begin to form under the tip.

“What are you gonna do now bitch?” He snarls in your ear.

"Give you one more chance to surrender." You spit.

Like I'm going to give him the satisfaction of me begging for my life.

"I'm gonna enjoy this-" The man begins to say, pressing the knife deeper into your throat, but the rest of his sentence is cut off with a strangled cry as he's pulled away from you.

What the hell just-

You turn around, freezing in shock.

Soldier Boy is crouching there in his t-shirt, jacket, and jeans over the man who just had a knife to your throat. His fist rising and falling as he punches the man in the face.

"Don’t you ever touch her." Soldier Boy snarls. His fist is already covered in blood, the man’s face a mass of bloodied tissue and bone.

"Stop you're going to kill him-" You run forward to stop Soldier Boy, but he doesn't stop even when you try to grab on to his hand.

"I said STOP." You shout louder, this time manipulating a vine to wrap around Soldier Boy's arm and restrain it.

Fuck he might already be dead.

"Let me go." Soldier Boy's eyes narrow. The usual green was replaced by a darkened pit with his rage. You'd only ever seen him this mad a handful of times, one of which was when the supe tried to zap you like a fly in one of those insect traps two days ago.

Why is he angry?

"I'm not going to let you go, until you promise not to kill him."

"I should." He snarls back at you.

"What are you talking about?"

He stands from the body, eyeing the last attacker who runs full speed down the sidewalk and vanishes into the darkness. "I should kill him for trying to hurt you." Soldier Boy says simply.

You wave your hand allowing the vine to let go of his arm. "Where do you come off so high and mighty? You literally tried to kill me last month."

"That was before I-" He shakes his head angrily, eyes still blazing.

"Look I don't need you to protect me. Given what I've had to deal with all day I was looking forward to kicking some ass."

"You did." He smirks nodding his head in the direction of the men hanging from the streetlamp above you. “I just thought that you were outnumbered.”

"Why are you here?" You sigh pinching the bridge of your nose.

"I wanted to go for a stroll." Soldier Boy shrugs. He flexes his hand, before wiping the blood on the front of the sweatshirt of the man on the ground.

"Uh-huh. Well I don't need you to protect me." You say again, crossing your arms over your chest. "I had this handled."

"You sure doll?"

"Look I get it- you think that you're some knight in shining armor because you have this macho complex. But I'm fine on my own." You begin to step around the bodies of the men on the ground moving in the direction of your apartment, but Soldier Boy follows you.

"Where do you think you're going?" You turn to look at where he falls into step beside you.

"You shouldn't be walking home alone."

"Well you're sure as hell not going home with me."

His lip turns up in a smirk, towering over you. Soldier Boy is easily a foot taller than you, so broad that it's impossible to look past his imposing figure. It would be attractive if he wasn't so damn annoying. "Come on sweetheart, I know you want me to go home with you." He purrs with a smile. "I think you'd really enjoy it if I did. And I'll even let you tie me up with those pretty vines of yours." Ben leans in towards your face and you take a step back.

"Hard pass. So what? Is this your big move? Acting all chivalrous just to get a woman into bed with you?"

"That depends, is it working?"

"No. Now go back to the apartment, before I send you there in pieces." You turn back to squish down the sidewalk at a faster pace, hoping he will get a hint and leave you alone. But you knew he wouldn’t stop. He practically thrived on teasing you, had been the bane of your existence since you met him. And nothing seemed to dissuade him.

"What is your problem with me?" He jogs to catch up. "And don't say that it's because I tried to kill you, that was last month-"

"I think that's applicable to this week and the week after that and the week after that." You count out with every finger to further emphasize your point, but you know that Soldier Boy won't give up that easy.

"Are you always this fucking angry?" He almost laughs.

"I don’t know. Are you always this fucking annoying?" You turn to face him narrowing your eyes.

Soldier Boy chuckles at your look, running a hand through his hair that has darkened in the spray of water, his green eyes watching you curiously. They were shinning now, not the blacked pits of hate they were when he was beating the guy two minutes ago. For a second, just for a second, you see how handsome he is all over again.

"Come on, give me a real answer and I'll leave you alone." He's smiling at you now, giving you one of those boyish grins that, if it were anyone else, would make your heart stop.

He just wants sex. He doesn't care about you. He won't ever care about you. Breathe.

"Fine." You sigh. "You might say you're a supe, but you're not a hero. People like you and Homelander, you don't care about anyone but yourself. You use your powers for you and on your own terms. You were going to kill that guy-" You gesture back towards where the body is still on the ground, the man's heart beat is dangerously low.

"He was threatening you. A thank you might be nice." Soldier Boy's cheeks flush as he glares down at you with darkened eyes, his anger surging back in his chest.

"Yes he was threatening me, but I'm okay and you could have just taken him to jail. You didn't have to beat his face in."

"So you're saying if he had been attacking someone else you wouldn't have done the same?"

"I would have subdued him and then waited for the police to get there. The men hanging from the streetlight aren't dead. We aren't the law-"

"Right so those guys can get off with a warning and then go on and do the same thing over and over again." He scoffs rolling his eyes at you.

"It doesn't give you the right to kill them."

"I suppose you don't believe in the death penalty either."

"I believe in the death penalty Gramps. I just don't believe it is our job to carry it out." Your temper was flaring against your skin distracting you from the chill of the rain as it soaked into your clothes.

"Do you have any idea how many women would love to be saved by me?" Soldier Boy asks. He shakes his head as if he can't understand you.

You didn't blame him, most people didn't, that was why you spent most of your time alone.

"I'm not one of them. So leave me alone." You turn to go.

Honestly, why is this the kind of guy I attract? You roll your eyes to yourself. Oh you mean, tall, dark, handsome, gorgeous- The other little voice in your head whispers in your ear. NO. You tell yourself. Please I just want one guy who's not a total dick. Why is that so hard?

"I still don't think it's a good answer." He huffs.

"Of course you don't." You roll your eyes and begin to walk again. The streetlamps above send an eerie yellow glow over the parked cars along the road and over the crackled pavement. If Soldier Boy wasn't here bothering you, you might have stopped to admire the water as it splashed underneath the suspension bridge beyond the crowded buildings, but you wanted to get home. Without him if possible.

You glance over at Soldier Boy again. He looks normal right now, always does when he's not wearing his suit. And when he shut up you could see why people were so in love with him. It was when he opened his mouth that it reminded you exactly why you didn't like him.

You stop in front of your apartment building and force yourself to smile. "Thank you for walking me home." You say through tight lips, hoping that the false sincerity will make him leave.

He gazes up at your building with a frown. "This is a pretty shitty apartment building."

"Thank you. Not all of us inherited millions of dollars from our parents."

He pauses for a moment continuing to look up at the building, before he sighs loudly. "Look, I-." He sighs again. "I can't take listening to Annie and Hughie fucking. They go at it every night and she always makes the power go off."

You knew that already. It was another reason why you didn't like staying at the apartment, because listening to your best friend get railed by her boyfriend was not your idea of a good time.

You look up at Ben, and for a second you see a glimmer of the truth, just a flash of something that wasn't like the misogynistic attitude he usually had and it made you pause. He almost looked, sad and it made you feel bad for him. Of course you felt bad for him before, when you found out his entire team just gave him away to be experimented on and when probably the woman that he'd come the closest to loving really didn't care about him at all.

It must be incredibly lonely to come back to a world where almost everyone you know is dead. Guilt builds in your chest at the thought. I had lost my fair share of people, but not everyone in my life and I certainly didn’t learn about it on the same day.

"You know I think that's the first honest thing you've ever said to me." You say quietly shifting from foot to foot.

He half-smiles. "Maybe."

You chew on the inside of your cheek considering. You weren't afraid of him. You knew that with your powers you could take him. You were stronger than most and harder to kill. And despite the bad things you thought about him and knew about him, you kinda thought he was relatively harmless, well, you didn't think he was a rapist.

"Fine. But you're staying on the couch. And if I wake up and you're anywhere near my bedroom, I'll castrate you." You warn as walk up to the front doors and type in the code to unlock them, with Soldier Boy following behind you.

When you make it to the third floor, you raise one hand to stop him from going any further. It falls against his muscular chest and you fail trying not to admire how it feels beneath your hand.

Why am I so thirsty?

"If you wanted to grab my chest doll, all you had to do was ask-" Soldier Boy begins to say, but you raise the hand to cover his mouth.

"Shh." You hiss. "We have to be quiet or Mike will come out-"

"Who?" He asks, muffled against your hand.

You hear a door down the hallway creak open, spilling yellowed light onto the dark blue carpet of the hallway. "Shit. Too late."

Mike steps out of his apartment with a wide smile as soon as he sees you. "HEY y/n!" He crows, waving his free hand enthusiastically. "I didn't know you were getting in so late, but I wanted to give you this." Mike holds out a giant casserole dish filled with something that you can't identify. It's multi colored with multiple layers, one of which looks suspiciously like rice and the next layer looks like cake.

There's no way I'm eating that. Maybe if I force feed it to Soldier Boy he'll leave me alone.

Mike was your neighbor, your neighbor who had lived next door to you for the past 2 years and was shamelessly in love with you. And as sweet as he was, there were a few things that you couldn't get past, most namely that he lived with his mother and that he had a mullet.

One time you'd had a nightmare about it ripping itself from his head, breaking in to your apartment, and smothering you in your sleep.

Not fun.

"Hey Mike." You smile tightly at him, dropping your hand from Soldier Boy's mouth. "Yeah I'm sorry I was out with some friends."

"You should have asked me to come! I love your friends." Mike smiles so wide you're afraid that it's going to break his face. “Especially Butcher. He’s so funny. Always joking-"

Poor Mike.

Every time that Butcher had come over to talk shop, he would mock Mike endlessly. And Mike was just too sweet to realize it. Hughie was the only one who actively tried to be nice to Mike, but even he found it difficult. Annie was the worst though, she'd tease you constantly about what your children would look like and had taken to photoshopping mullets onto pictures of babies and sending them to you at inopportune times.

"Maybe next time." You cough out an awkward laugh while Soldier Boy snorts behind you.

You continue down the hallway towards your apartment, the door next to his, and hope that he'll go back into his home, but no such luck.

“My mom made this for you!” He holds the dish out towards you.

“Oh um that’s so nice of her. But I can’t except that-“

Mike's mother comes to stand in the doorway of their shared apartment. She was wearing a bright purple Mumu, her makeup caked thickly on her face and her eyes accentuated with bright blue eye shadow. “Sure you can sweetie. You’re Mike’s special friend.” She winks before trailing her eyes up and down your body. “And you’ve got such a cute little figure.” His mother does a little shimmy as if trying to get you to do the same.

Kill me now.

“That’s what I keep telling her.” Soldier Boy purrs behind you.

“Don’t make me kill you.” You mutter back, knowing full well he can hear you with his super-hearing.

Oddly enough Mike does look suspiciously like his mother, they are both the same height, exactly three inches under you, and have the same mullet, but hers is a shocking blue-gray and his is jet black.

He blushes at her words. “Aww mom.”

Soldier Boy muffles a laugh before disguising it into a cough. You elbow him hard in the stomach.

“Well thank you.” You take the casserole dish with one hand, hoping that you can open the door and usher Soldier Boy in before he makes a comment. "I've had a long day and it's really late-"

“I helped her make this one.” Mike interrupts scooting closer to you, so close that you get a lungful of his terrible cologne, the one that the super sells for four dollars and smells like baby powder and Cheez-its.

“A man who can do it all.” Soldier Boy whispers to you.

Mike looks above your head as if noticing Soldier Boy for the first time. “Who’s that? I thought I knew all your friends.”

“He’s certainly very handsome-“ Mike's mother blushes from the doorway.

“Your brother?” Mike offers.

You can see his expression turn hopeful.

Probably thinking about how he can become friends with "said brother" and that will escalate our "relationship."

“I’m Ben.” Soldier Boy says, stepping around you to shake Mike’s hand. “I’m y/n's boyfriend.”

Your cheeks bloom a bright pink, unable to respond to the ridiculous statement that he just made.

Murder. That's what sounds good right now.

“Oh.” Mike’s face falls. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” His eyes flick back to you, disappointment swimming in the irises.

You watch Mike’s hope begin to circle the drain.

“Well actually-“ You begin, but Soldier Boy interrupts you.

“Sorry I’ve been out of town for a while. We've been trying to do this long distance thing- you know how it is, late night phone calls-“ Ben trails off with a wolfish grin before dropping an arm around your shoulders. “But I just couldn’t take the long distance. Missed her too much. Phone call isn’t the same as sleeping in the same bed. Definitely not as satisfying. Not to mention there’s only so much my hand can do.”

Your cheeks bloom an even brighter red at his insinuation. That’s when Soldier Boy does something even more unforgivable, he pulls you tighter against him and kisses you right there in front of Mike and his mother. The kiss is searing, making everything in your mind go blissfully blank. It had been so long since someone kissed you, since someone had held you this close to them without trying to kill you. His tongue teases your bottom lip and before you can stop yourself you open your mouth wider to let him in sighing softly against his lips, while you grip the front of his jacket.

For a moment you can’t remember why you didn’t want him to kiss you, why you denied yourself of this for so long. And then Soldier Boy's hand slides from your back to grab a handful of your ass.

Right.

You slap him so hard across the face that you're sure it would have broken the cheekbone of anyone who wasn’t a supe.

But Soldier Boy only grins wider, squeezing your butt again. “She knows that I like it a little rough.” He turns his lazy gaze back to Mike.

You open your mouth to cuss him out.

“Well we should probably get going.” Soldier Boy breezes. “Probably going to be a long night. If you know what I mean. But we’ll try to keep it down. Then again my girl's a little loud.” He winks at your poor neighbor who looks like he might cry, while his mother stands behind him fanning herself like Soldier Boy is everything she wants in a man.

He's ten for ten with the older ladies I'll say that.

“Oh right. Well I guess I’ll see you around y/n.” Mike turns to go.

“Mike wait-“ You try to say but he’s already vanishing through the door.

“Nice to meet you Mark.” Soldier Boy calls at his retreating figure, getting his name wrong on purpose.

You don’t even use your key to open the door you're so mad, the plants inside let you in. As soon as it opens, you haul Soldier Boy by the front of his jacket through the doorway and pin him to the wall just inside.

The casserole dish lands on your counter and by some miracle doesn’t break.

“What the hell is your problem?” Your hand is fisted in the front of his shirt, eyes blazing with anger and embarrassment.

He only grins. “You didn’t want me to play along? Sounded like that guy had been trying to get into your pants for a while. Unless he already has been or you want him to?"

You flush a deeper shade of crimson. "That is absolutely none of your business!"

“Well if we’re going to be living together doll, I’m pretty sure it is my business.”

“WE AREN'T LIVING TOGETHER I'M JUST LETTING YOU CRASH ON THE COUCH TONIGHT AND THEN YOU'RE GONE.” You shout.

“I think you’re gonna get pretty attached to me sleeping here. Maybe even you let me sleep in your bed and even fu-“

You knock him back against the wall again. “If you finish that sentence I’m going to throw you out the window.”

“If you keep knocking me around, Mike's going to think you’re into some pretty kinky stuff.” Soldier Boy smirks down at you. “It’s actually turning me on a bit. Is it turning you on?”

“I don’t have to let you stay here.” You growl, releasing him.

“I think it’s because you like me.” He teases.

“I don’t.” You frown grows. “Okay couch is there goodnight.”

You point in the direction of the worn leather couch. You'd hauled it up three flights of stairs with Annie when you first moved in after you found a guy online selling it for nothing. And when you showed up to get it, he presumed to say it would be free if you let him take a picture of your feet. And after, when he had a black eye and a fun story to tell his wife, he gave you the couch for nothing as promised.

“No kiss goodnight?” Soldier Boy pouts his lips innocently.

“You already had one of those.” You snap thinking about slapping him again and trying hard not to think about how much you wanted to kiss him again.

Get a grip.

“Right. You liked it.”

“No I didn’t. And the next time you shove your tongue into my mouth I’ll bite it off.”

“You’re really violent for such a little thing.” Soldier Boy eyes you up and down as if sizing you up.

“And you’re really dick-like for someone who’s supposed to have the wisdom of the ages.” You turn towards the hallway intent on going to bed to avoid any more conversation with him.

"Whoa." You hear Soldier Boy say as he looks into your living room.

It was the reaction that everyone had when they entered your apartment. You had a small one bedroom apartment on the third floor of a building that you believed might be older than Soldier Boy. The kitchen and living room was mostly one room, the kitchen to the left with outdated appliances and a small circular wooden table with three chairs that served as your kitchen table and desk, and was separated by the large leather aforementioned couch that faced the wall that held two large windows. Beyond the front door was a small hallway that held the only bathroom in the apartment and your bedroom.

But that's not what was surprising.

Every open space in your apartment was covered in plants. There wasn't a single piece of unused space in your apartment. There were large standing monstera and fiddle leaf figs shoved into every corner and pots of dark green pothos bolted into the walls trailing vines to the ground so that every wall looked alive. Jasmine crept along the wall behind the tv that sat on an antique credenza between the two windows, sending the bright scent into the living room.

There was a large rectangular box bolted in the space above your sink where herbs and tomatoes hung down, probably a fire hazard, but you didn't care. The vibrant smell of mint, the spicy smell of rosemary, and soft tones of oregano and basil fused the air in your apartment with a life force that was impossible to ignore.

A large apple tree grew in a pot as big around as you next to the couch, with brilliant red apples hanging from it's branches, while a lemon tree and a tangerine tree intertwined their branches just behind the kitchen table. The refrigerator, once white, was covered in the tangled vines of blackberry and raspberry, hanging with full fruit, while a potted strawberry plant sits prettily on top of the kitchen table, the bright red fruit enticing.

It was a lot. You knew it was a lot, but helping plants grow was the only thing you were good at, the only thing that felt right. One day you hoped that you could move somewhere and open a farmers market, but today you were stuck here, with Soldier Boy, who probably thought that you were crazy.

"I mean. I knew you had plant powers but this is-" He begins to say.

"A lot. I know." You roll your eyes. "The bathroom is down the hall." You gesture with your free hand towards the darkened hallway. "I guess I'll get you a pillow."

Ben is still looking around the room dumbfounded, as if he's never seen anything like this in his life, and he probably hasn't.

He's been in a Russian Lab for the past forty years, I mean he's probably not used to seeing anything this green.

You find the extra pillow in the linen closet along with one of the crocheted granny square blankets you made last year when Annie and you had a Jaws movie marathon, and a towel, before you move back into the living room.

Ben is still standing awkwardly by the couch as if he's not sure what to do, and it's the first time you've seen him look lost.

"Here." You throw him the pillow and the towel before you drape the blanket over the back of the couch. "One night."

"Why are you working for Butcher?"

"What?" The question catches you off guard. You were expecting him to make another pass at you, maybe check you out again. He was looking at you, but it was different, his gaze was softer, curious.

"You don't seem like you-" He gestures around the room. "Like you fit."

You blink for a second. "Um."

"I mean Annie used to be one of the Seven, Hughie does whatever the fuck Butcher tells him, but you you're different." His brow furrows together as if he can't figure you out.

"I really don't want to do this with you."

"This?" He looks confused again.

"Opening up with one another. You're here for one night. That's it." You force yourself to say, but the reality was you were still surprised, surprised that he actually seemed to care.

Stop. He's changing tactics because nothing else worked. He's pretending to care about you because he still wants to sleep with you.

"Please."

You can't answer for a second. It was the first time that he'd said that word in front of you before, or acted this way. It was also the first time that it had just been the two of you, before Butcher had been there or Frenchie or Annie and Hughie, but this was the first time that the two of you had been left alone.

Maybe that's why?

You hesitate before you answer, he was the last person you really wanted to open up to.

"I don't know, it's not all that bad." You shrug. "Before I didn't really use my powers all that much except like this." You gesture around the room for emphasis. "And when I went to college everyone was so serious about their futures and I didn't really like any of the classes. The only thing I enjoyed was using my powers at Please Don’t Die, the plant store I work at. And then Annie asked me to come help her out-" You bite your cheek. "She's my best friend and maybe I wanted to spend more time with her."

"But is it what you really want?" He cocks his head to the side, holding the pillow in one hand and the towel in the other.

You'd never seen him look so calm before, relaxed, like being here with you was washing away any anger or frustration he still had about the past. It was confusing, and at the same time you could feel your heart beginning to betray you. It was hard not to fall for him when he looked so good, eyes soft, dark hair falling into his eyes, clothes still dripping rain on your hardwood floors.

No. I will not fall in love with him, I will not fall in love with-

"Goodnight Soldier Boy. I'll see you in the morning." You turn to go, ignoring his final question.

"You can call me Ben." He almost whispers it, the sound of his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine.

"What?" You look back at him.

"You never call me Ben. But you can, if you want." He shrugs his shoulders, before he shakes his head as if he's annoyed with himself for suggesting it. "Never mind, just fucking forget about it-"

"Goodnight Ben." You feel the end of your mouth twitch up into a smile and with that you disappear into your bedroom, locking the door behind you.

And deep down you know that it's not to keep him out, but to keep you in.

As always, thank you so much for reading!

If you liked this story be sure to read my follow up fic that takes place in the future:

Open Mic Night!

Or if you'd like to read another series please try:

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love!

If The Stars Wish It So

A/N: I know it's crazy to start another series right now, but I'm kinda feeling this reader and Ben together? What do y'all think about it?

A/N: Update I've made a huge mistake and started another series.

If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know!

(Photos for series picture from Pinterest)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles #wonderful mutuals 💕#lovely friends 💗#soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy fic #soldier boy au #take a chance on me feedback

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nyheartbreak · 6 hours ago

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sammy bryant and the overworked, underpaid, absolutely miserable state defence attorney that the scumbags he arrests get. most of the time cops don't really respect these lawyers too much, and at first he does have his reservations. especially when you show up with a bit of an attitude, clearly having a shitty day and tired from dealing with worse cops than him. but sammy knows that you don't get to choose your cases, that you just get assigned to them. and he feels so bad everytime you arrive at the station with a cup of burnt coffee in your hands and with anxiety written all over your face.

despite it all, you have always been so cordial with him. you always call him detective bryant and you kinda avoid his eyes when you say im alright, thank you while you guys wait in the station hallways before an interrogation and sammy can't help but ask you okay? to fill the silence. which makes you always seem a little bit too shy around him. though you seem shy around everyone and he wonders if this is the right job for you at all. he does makes you smile once, though, and it makes him so giddy he takes it as his win for the month.

but he finds himself thinking of you more than he wants to admit. finds himself doing so in situations where he shouldn't be thinking of you at all. when he gets to work. when he arrests someone and wonders if they are going to send you to defend them. when he kisses his wife. when he jacks off and lies to himself that he did it thinking of his tammy. feels guilty after, of course, disgusting even. can’t look you in the eye for a few weeks.

but the more he looks at you, the more he finds the comments from his partners more and more obnoxiously annoying. the way the talk about you. how they say that they would fuck you either way, even if you defend criminals, eyebags and all. it makes his blood boil. and its not like you are one of those assholes on call they sometimes get. cocky and confrontational. you are nothing like that, at least not with him. you are just doing her job, right? like he is doing his job.

and then, this really nasty motherfucker tries to put his hands on you on a private attorney client visit and he fucking looses it. nate has to literally drag him off so he doesn’t kill him and ends up on the other side of the questioning table. his fists hurt for days after but he doesn't regret a thing, in fact, he would do it all over again.

he finds you in this bar one night, a few days after the incident. the one he always go to when things get a bit rough and he needs to get his limbs loose at least for a couple of hours before he goes back to his wife. you are sitting at this booth alone, and he finds you placing the two or three bottles of beer you had neatly against the wall. you are just entering on tipsy and you joke that you have some kind of undiagnosed ocd and he finds that you are really awkward and bad at making conversation but it just makes him like you even more.

you drink together. barely talk. stare at each other when you think the other isn't looking. and then, a couple of beers in, when he is not really thinking about anything substantial— thankfully, he really needs those moments— but rather letting himself enjoy the feeling of it. of the company. you say it. thank you, for what you did. and sammy quickly has to think of something gross to keep his dick tamed inside his pants.

he decides to be a bit of an asshole then. fights you just the right amount to get you all defensive, hot and bothered. and you fall for it. you think I like this job? you think i like sitting next to those assholes in court? that i like spending all day listening to their sorry stories? i have my own sorry story too, you know? and then you finish with, after a pause, we both chose shitty jobs I guess.

you just need someone to take good care of you, he answers. a little bit too drunk. a little bit too bold. in that condescending voice cops sometimes have to use. you choke on your drink but don't say anything. the heat on your cheeks too damming. and he jots another win down.

and of course he takes you home that night. you live in this shitty apartment which you say you won't invite him to because it's totally embarrassing and you both linger at goodbye. hidden in the darkness of the empty street of this not-so-nice part of town. and again, you are a bit too drunk and he is a bit too tipsy and it's only natural he ends up kissing you against his car, your back flat against the curve of the door until you put a hand on his chest and gently push him off. not because you don't want to but because this is definitely a bad bad idea.

he still ends up in your bed, though. clothes tossed caressly around your room like it doesn't really matter. like this doesn't mean anything at all. he still ends up fucking you hard against the mattress, both too fucking wasted to have a civilized thought about what you are doing. he keeps whispering in your ear as he thrusts from behind let me take care of you. let me take real good care of you. and you let him. both your lives are falling apart at the seams, so you sure let's sammy bryant take real good care of you.

#wrote this while pretty pretty drunk and now i read it again it seems much tamer than i originially thought it was #but believe me. im down bad for this guy #embarrassingly so #me: okay hear me out there's cheating!???? you guys: NOT AGAIN.....#i hope this fucking shows up in the tag ortherwise tumblr is definitely shadowbaning me #I know nothing of how defense attorneys work i simply had A VISION. A DREAM #let me cook #or at least let me try #sammy bryant #shawn hatosy #shawn hatosy x reader #sammy bryant x reader #southland #jack abbot x reader

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ririright · 2 days ago

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“Detention Day”

Son! Sam Monroe x Mother Reader

Featuring: Sam being absolutely unhinged, and (y/n) being the mom MVP of the year.

You were halfway through making dinner when your phone buzzed.

SAM (1 Missed Call)

SAM (Voicemail)

SAM (Text): CALL ME NOW. URGENT. THEY’RE TORTURING ME.

You sighed, already putting down the wooden spoon.

Another one of those days.

You hit play on the voicemail.

“Hey. So. Funny story. Totally not my fault—but, uh, yeah I got detention again. Apparently calling the gym teacher ‘Budget Dwayne Johnson’ is ‘hostile language.’ Whatever. Anyway, I’m in the front office. Tell the cat I love him. Tell the oven I never got to taste tonight’s dinner. Goodbye forever.”

You rolled your eyes so hard your skull cracked a little.

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20 Minutes Later – Front Office of Academic Purgatory

The office door creaked open with the weight of your disappointment and the smell of expired hand sanitizer.

Sam was slumped in a cracked plastic chair like a Victorian ghost awaiting execution, dressed in his usual cargo shorts, eyeliner, and hoodie that had definitely once been yours. His foot tapped in exaggerated frustration. His lip ring gleamed with fury.

He looked up, blue eyes wide and insulted.

“Took you long enough. I’ve been emotionally abandoned.”

You walked in with the calm of a mother who has seen things. “Hi, Samuel. Get up.”

“I can’t get up,” he declared, standing up anyway. “I’m weak. I’ve aged forty years in here. They made me sit next to Kyle, who breathes like a pervert and eats string cheese with his fingers.”

“Sam.”

“They gave me a referral,” he continued, waving a crumpled pink slip. “I told Coach Muscles-for-Brains that gym class was a scam designed to humiliate the gifted and cursed. Apparently, that’s a ‘behavioral incident.’”

The secretary behind the desk gave you the world’s most exhausted look. You nodded in silent solidarity.

You sighed and rubbed your forehead. “Sam. Did you or did you not try to stage a walkout during dodgeball?”

He threw his hands up like he’d been wrongly convicted. “IT WAS AN ACT OF CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE. I said, ‘Let the weak be free!’ and tried to open the emergency exit. It was locked, by the way. Fire hazard.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered.

“I was fighting for the underdogs. For the kids with asthma and bad knees and social anxiety. I am Rosa Parks with eyeliner.”

You stared at him.

He stared back.

“…Too far?” he asked.

“Get in the car.”

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On the Drive Home

You didn’t speak for the first few minutes. Sam sulked dramatically in the passenger seat, forehead pressed to the window like he was watching his dreams burn in the distance.

“I hope you know I suffered in there,” he muttered. “The chair was plastic. I almost got a rash.”

“Tragic.”

“I could’ve died. I almost had to use the school bathroom. I saw the urinal cake. It had a fly on it.”

“You know detention ends at 4:30, right? You called me at 4:31.”

“I was scared and alone and surrounded by authority figures! They breathe like wolves!”

You tried not to laugh.

“You’re not taking this seriously,” he accused, flopping dramatically into the seat. “I’m a victim of a broken system.”

You glanced over. “Sam. Be honest. Did you say ‘Budget Dwayne Johnson’ out loud?”

“…No.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“…Okay, yes. But it was accurate. He does protein shakes during roll call. That’s suspicious behavior.”

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Back Home – 6:00 PM

Sam threw himself onto the couch like he’d just returned from war. You handed him a plate of dinner and a Diet Coke without a word.

He took a bite. Froze.

“…You made the garlic noodles.”

“I always make them when you get detention.”

He groaned dramatically, tipping his head back. “You’re enabling me. I love it here.”

You smirked and turned on the TV. “By the way, if you get detention again this semester, you’re losing video game privileges for a week.”

Sam stared at you, noodles hanging from his mouth like betrayal.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Cruel. Heartless. Child abuse.”

You leaned over, kissed the top of his head, and grabbed the remote. “Eat your noodles, punk.”

And somehow, as the horror movie started and Sam curled up with his plate like the grumpy cryptid he was—you knew he was gonna be just fine.

Even if the school didn’t survive him.

#sam monroe x you #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe fluff #sam monroe oneshot #hayden christensen #life as a house au

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moonlight-tmd · 2 days ago

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THAT WAS SO GOOODD!! LOVED IT :DD

I was wondering, adding onto that whole “ew I hate talking about MY feelings” bee, I think I wrote something for myself about it,,

so basically some background was that maybe he and some member of the team have some disagreement or he made a mistake or something, and he’s kinda like “oh man he probably like hates me so much rn I cant face him” or whatever

and eventually he gets confronted, and he’s like visibly nervous and such, and I guess in their concern the confronter says something that came out wrong maybe something like “hm why r u so emotional over this simple situation” or something NOT IN A BAD WAY

Bee is like “oh yeah ur right actually” and just straight up pushes those bad scary emotions deep into the back of his mind and he’s like “okay yeah this is better”

Cue said team member being pretty confused and concerned lmao

Yes omg he would overthink a small argument like that.

For example he would be arguing with Prowl again and slip a kinda rude word or two he wouldn't usually say and Prowl just ends the argument a little more pissed than normal. Then Bee spends the rest of the day just dreading over it if Prowl actually hates his guts right now or what. Cue an emergency where Bee gets cornered or something and Prowl has to help him out and then Bee's all awkward after they come back home and Prowl has to know what up. Then Bee slips again and says something along the lines of "I didn't expect you to help me after what i said" and Prowl is so confused and mildly concerned cuz it was just an argument? Bee chills out about it then but he still dreads over the arguments with his team, especially if they're quite heated.

He still can't help but let his anxiety run all the worst scenarios for him like, what if they don't want him anymore cuz he's such an asshole or what if they'll just leave him to die if he argues with them before a fight or something.

Yeah this boy needs therapy, luckily Arcee has a degree in that.

#maccadam #tfa #ask box #tfa bumblebee

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timeagainreviews · 21 hours ago

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The Perplexing Politics of Pete McTighe

Hey friends, just a heads up, I talk about real-life abuse and violence in this article. Please take care accordingly.

If I had a pound for every time there was a Doctor-lite episode where Ruby Sunday is staring down the barrel of some folk horror only for it to be subverted into a story about a toxic white male, I would have two pounds. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice. “Happened twice” seems to be the theme of season two, so far. Susan Twist’s many cameos have been replaced by Mrs Flood’s many cameos. “Lux” bore a strong resemblance to “The Devil’s Chord.” And now we’ve remade “73 Yards.” It’s like Russell T Davies is pulling an “Evil Dead 2,” with season two. He’s got a bigger budget and better concept. Let’s remake the first one but call it a sequel! Was season one a test run? Had to get limber, did we? Well, I hope you’re warmed up because it’s starting to feel warmed over.

If you read my thoughts preceding season two, you’ll know I was not looking forward to this episode. Ruby Sunday’s entire story arc left me feeling quite let down. I felt like we had a vague idea of Ruby’s character, which is a shame because after “Lucky Day,” I was very pleasantly reminded how good Millie Gibson is in the role. In many ways, Lucky Day acts as a proof of concept for a Sarah Jane Adventures-style show with characters like Ruby. Away from the Doctor, Ruby’s character shines. Seeing her in a more commanding role suits her. Lucky Day also gives Ruby a chance at introspection and self-reliance that I admire. Sadly, however, it also plays into some of the trappings of characters like Clara Oswald, who are given focus through grief and trauma.

The RTD2 era has a bit of a Batman problem. Billionaire Bruce Wayne uses all of his money to dress like a bat and beat up the poor and insane. If you think of it from a campy comic book perspective, you can root for Batman because Batman is the good guy and the Joker is the bad guy. If you wrote Batman this way forever, you would never really need to question Batman’s motives. But then you get writers like Frank Miller who suddenly want to give the Bat some depth. If you introduce pathos, you must also be prepared to answer awkward questions. You have to question the nature of the hero. If the companions experience PTSD to the degree that they require a support group, then we are no longer in an adventure in time and space; we’re in the thick of it. But is Doctor Who capable of staring into that Charlie Brookeresque black mirror?

My poor boyfriend struggled with this episode. For a bit of context, he’s a very sensitive man. I’ve learned not to show him certain films and shows because his capacity for second-hand embarrassment is so strong that he becomes panicked. It’s not just characters in embarrassing situations, however; it can also be characters that personify his fears and anxieties. A mundane story about an awkward couple fighting killer monsters in a small English village was something he had signed up for. But when the tone shifted to the all-too-real storyline of a toxic male podcaster spewing hate into the world, he felt betrayed. He said, “I watch Doctor Who to escape this kind of thing.” He couldn’t even relax during the massage I bought him for his birthday because the episode had him so wound up. This wouldn’t be the first time Doctor Who has used its platform to discuss real-world politics. “The Happiness Patrol” parodied Margaret Thatcher’s regime with the depiction of Helen A. But when I watched “Lucky Day” with my sister, she similarly remarked, “That made me angry more than anything else.” So, what is Pete McTighe getting wrong that Graeme Curry got right?

Perhaps one of the clearest differences between the classic and current eras of Doctor Who is that in classic Doctor Who, the ones shouting “Exterminate!” are pepper pots with sink plungers and in modern Who, they’re throwing up “Roman salutes.” Gone are the days of allegory. The Doctor is now fighting literal Nazis. But if Doctor Who is now asking us to have these serious conversations, well, then we will start having these serious conversations. The best place to start is the place I always start, by asking whether Doctor Who is capable of handling such conversations. For example, is it great optics for “I stand with UNIT,” to be trending in an era of ICE raids? ACAB, except UNIT, amiright? This is why they needed to give Conrad those ableist and sexist lines. Because beyond being a total dick, Conrad’s greatest crime otherwise is to ask for transparency from a secretive paramilitary government organisation. It’s the MCU problem where the villains have a great point, but they must be stopped because they’re also mean.

This makes sense when you consider this story comes from the writer of “Kerblam!” wherein the Doctor gives a rousing speech about how the system isn’t the problem, it’s the people who exploit the system. If you asked Philip Zimbardo, he would tell you how systems can take good people and make them do terrible things. And he would know. You get the impression that Pete McTighe is a well-meaning progressive who also canvasses for Labour without a shred of irony. That’s a bit unfair, I don’t know him, but I do know his writing, and it’s a bit weird. There’s a healthy dose of mixed messaging that I originally chalked up to the Chibnall era’s first draft approach, but it’s starting to look like a pattern.

When the Doctor and Bel find themselves in 2007, it’s only for a brief moment. The vindicator needs to be calibrated, and unlike the last stop, the only things happening of note are fireworks celebrating the New Year. There are no haunted theatres or dead miners, just a little boy and a lucky 50p coin. It was a relatively small leg of the Doctor’s journey to bring Belinda back home, but a huge moment for the young Conrad Clark, who goes running back to his mum to excitedly describe the magic blue box he just watched disappear. Much like the Christmas special, “A Christmas Carol,” I hate how brazenly they depict child abuse. Having experienced domestic abuse as a child, I really didn’t appreciate having to see little Conrad get smacked in the mouth by his piece of shit mother. I really wish Doctor Who would stop depicting that shit so vividly. This episode seems hellbent on collecting various triggers. Yay escapism?

Conrad grows up to be obsessed with the Doctor and the unknown to such a degree that it starts to become unhealthy. He seems to run a very popular podcast about the strange and unknown. It has enough listeners that people from various parts of the world gladly tune in to listen to him interview Ruby Sunday. But his podcast is also Think Tank, which is poised to expose such things as fakery. So were the people tuning in because they’re into some X-Files nonsense or because they want to see X-Files nonsense exposed? Would his audience appreciate this bold new change in direction or would it be like Watcher’s “Goodbye Youtube?” Furthermore, if someone invited you onto a podcast, wouldn’t you at least listen to it before going on? Wouldn’t the Vlinx spend its days combing the internet for disinformation about UNIT? Is UNIT really bad at its job, or does Pete McTighe not understand how podcasts work?

Conrad meets Ruby after following her and the Doctor through an abandoned department store as they went monster hunting for a Shreek. The creepy mannequins strewn about the scene had me hoping for an Auton story. We’ve not had a good Auton story in ages. Instead, the reference to Autons is a painful reminder of the episode we could have had. In the words of Mystery Science Theatre 3000’s Tom Servo- “Never show a good movie in your crappy movie.” This wouldn’t be the first time we got the Auton bait and switch. Remember when “Praxeus” fooled us all with its swarms of killer plastic? “Lucky Day” joins Praxeus in the newly minted category of "Pete McTighe episodes that I wish were Auton stories instead." Creating a new genre of Doctor Who story? That’s quite the legacy. Conrad overhears the Doctor give Ruby an antidote to the Shreek’s vomit, which marks its prey for future nomming. I don’t understand why they need to mark prey. I get that they want to scare people because it makes them more tasty, but getting eaten is already pretty scary. Shouldn’t anyone suffice? If the person they mark could be “anyone,” why mark them at all? The Shreek isn’t Tzim-Sha, for godsake. They’re not big game hunters. Christ, I’m referencing Tzim-Sha now.

Conrad snaps a picture of Ruby and posts it to social media in hopes that someone will get him in contact with her. But what person would violate Ruby’s confidence like that? As it would turn out, that person is Ruby Sunday. Between Conrad’s podcast and Davina McCall, Ruby is proving to be one of the Doctor’s most interviewable companions. It’s really odd to me that not only would Ruby respond to Conrad’s creepy post, but then gleefully recount her exploits with the Doctor in a public forum. It would appear that, along with goodbye hugs, departing companions must also be debriefed. You just gonna spill the tea, huh, sis? Why not just write out the Doctor’s schedule and a list of his fears while you’re at it?

Ruby warms up to Conrad after he tells her that he’s an orphan. Finally, someone with whom she can share the terrible pain of growing up with a loving family. Speaking of loving family, Ruby’s two mums and Cherry are all happy to see Ruby and Conrad start dating. It’s a sign to them that Ruby is getting over the Doctor. Cherry would also enjoy washing her clothes on Conrad’s abs, but that’s pretty par for the course with Cherry. She’s a dirty old bird and we love her for it. Ruby’s other mum, whose name I don’t feel inclined to look up, is also there. Our biggest takeaway with her is that she’s still there. Sitting. I get the impression that we won’t see these ladies much more in the future. But it’s Davies, he’ll probably have them all come back for some grand finale at some point. Probably when he leaves again.

Ruby and Conrad take a little trip. I forget where, as it wasn’t incredibly important to me. His friends are supposedly there to meet her, but we all know how that turns out. At this point in the episode, I was mostly content to watch a relatively mundane monster of the week story. I had resigned myself to that Pete McTighe mundanity that we’ve come to rely on. This isn’t the guy you give big episodes to, this is the guy who writes benign short films starring side-characters to advertise Doctor Who Blu-rays. Doctor-lite stories are his wheelhouse. I did like that Ruby called UNIT to alert them of signs of the Shreek. It gives us a good glimpse into her current state and demonstrates that even when she’s panicked, she can take control.

The control is just the issue, however. Ruby is constantly on alert from her travels with the Doctor, which is very realistic. That need to control the situation stems from her fear of losing said control. I’ve had people say to me, “Wouldn’t it be great to be the Doctor’s companion?” To which I’ve always answered with a hardy “No.” I had a guy pull a gun on me in the Sunfresh parking lot in Kansas City. It wasn’t an adventure, and I doubt that gun being held by a Dalek would have made it feel any more so. It stuck with me for years, remembering how frail I felt in that moment. The Doctor’s adventures would give you PTSD, there’s no denying it. So if your question is “Would you like the Doctor to take you on a trip in the TARDIS to go meet Terry Pratchett?” Then yes. Yes, I would. I love any number of fictional universes, but there are very few of them in which I would want to live.

After triggering Ruby and UNIT into a full-on panic, Conrad and his army of internet trolls reveal the big ruse that any other secret agency would have known about months in advance. They once stopped a Krynoid invasion, and now they’re getting clowned on by podcasters. Ruby falls into a dimension of montage where the world is shown to turn its back on UNIT. Even Trinity Wells is back to stir up some shit. No Trinity, not you too! I thought Trinity’s new approach from “The Giggle” had more to do with the Toymaker’s influence, but it would appear she’s a muckracker like the rest of them. Et tu, Trinity? Ruby, having done the podcast and the big exposé live stream, has become the face of ridicule. Her only choice is to weather the storm along with UNIT.

The usual UNIT team is present, give or take a character here and there. We don’t see Morris, Mel, or Rose, but we do see Kate, Colonel Ibrahim, and Shirley Bingham. I remarked to my partner that I liked that UNIT finally has a more permanent roster of rotating characters, like it did in Classic Who. For years, they were haemorrhaging Brigadiers, but Kate put an end to that. Introducing the Avengers tower-esque UNIT HQ gave them even more opportunity to establish a core team. So when they introduced Jordan Lang, naturally, I took notice. Sadly for UNIT’s and Jordan’s sake, he was secretly a mole on the inside. I hope after this episode, UNIT took a long and in-depth look at its security protocols, because evidently, it’s super easy to infiltrate.

After doing a background check on Conrad, they learn he once tried to join UNIT but was rejected because his vibes were off. They also discover that his mother is still alive, living comfortably in France. His podcast, Think Tank, has over 80,000 subscribers, which, as I said earlier, is confusing. Even more confusing is how that required a background check when a Google search would have sufficed. Even more confusing is how Conrad's live stream kept going when the Shreek's background radiation causes power to fluctuate. I did enjoy that Shirley got to be the one to call out Conrad about being a tax evader, considering he referred to her as a drain on taxes. In fact, I really like everyone’s reactions to Conrad’s sudden intrusion into UNIT HQ. Kate letting the Shreek out is some shit her dad would have done. And Ruby’s “Go to hell,” line to Conrad was a genuine high for her character. I even said “Fuck yeah, girl,” in the moment. Hot taser lady indeed.

Because it’s Doctor Who, Conrad is wrong and UNIT is right. And because I’m subscribed to the narrative, UNIT are the good guys and Conrad is the bad guy. But the real-world parallels are so distressing and worrisome that neither Conrad’s comeuppance nor the Doctor’s reprimand feels any sort of cathartic. Having been proven the fool by the existence of the very real Shreek, Conrad has been locked away with his arm reattached, but the Doctor isn’t yet done with him. In a very “Oh shit, dad’s home,” moment, the Doctor invites Conrad into his TARDIS to give him a stern warning. The Doctor’s white outfit gives him an air of mercy, but is betrayed by the ambient red lighting, giving him an enraged glow. As Doctor speeches go, it’s one of Ncuti’s best. He brings a lofty weight to the words that sound like they come from somewhere real within his own experience. While heavy-handed and on the nose, the Doctor says some things a lot of us are feeling these days.

The problem arises in the fact that the speech is totally wasted on Conrad. The Doctor’s words fall upon deaf ears. And while it’s some stone cold shit for the Doctor to clue Conrad into the future of his sad death, Conrad laughs that annoying laugh. The Doctor doesn’t leave him chained up in chains forged in the heart of a dwarf star, he just stares at him with the same irritated disbelief as the rest of us. The look on the Doctor’s face is like Veronica from “Heathers,” when she said, “You don’t deserve my speech.” Because he doesn’t. Conrad is the pigeon knocking over the chess pieces and shitting on the board calling himself the victor. The Doctor may as well have been staring at a blank wall. Whether his revelation of Conrad dying angry in a cell at the age of 49 comes true or not, rather depends on what happens when the Doctor leaves. Mrs Flood, in her obligatory appearance, lets Conrad out of jail, informing him that this is his lucky day.

It makes sense that Mrs Flood would want Conrad if she is some sort of God of Storytelling. Conrad understands the importance of controlling the narrative. She seems to be amassing a team now. Perhaps Conrad is to be her new companion. Maybe there will be others. Is Mrs Flood forming her own UNIT-style team of disinformation? Possibly. Speaking of forming teams, do you get the impression that Davies is grooming Pete McTighe for something more? He’s given him the executive producer role for “The War Between the Land and the Sea.” The last person who got this kind of treatment was Chris Chibnall with Torchwood. Pete McTighe ain’t it. And by it, I mean the next showrunner. He might be, but he shouldn’t be. He’s had three opportunities to show what he can do within the Whoniverse, which, as it turns out, is not a lot. This confused and triggering slog was only occasionally elevated by the strong performances of Millie Gibson and the rest of the cast. Everything else was entirely forgettable.

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