#I needed a break from writing something else

[symphonyofmars]

There was something I wanted to add as i saw people arguing back and forth (and this might be against my better judgement): but I believe the first post I saw referenced Bell Hooks, and then I later saw someone else say that the use of her quote was bullshit. The quote had to do with being compassionate towards men, and then the person responding said that wasn't what the quote is about (iirc, it's been a few days and my sense of time is not great) but having read The Will to Change (which I believe the quote was taken from), that's exactly what it was about.

[adding a read more because this became much longer than I intended it to be]

The book discusses how the patriarchy hurts not just women, but ALSO men, and how it's so much harder to rehabilitate men from it because: they think they stand something to gain from cramming themselves into the box they're supposed to fit into, and, many of them just have no idea that their life could even be different. That they could be an artist if they want to, they could dance if they want to, they could go into childcare if they want to or grow their hair long or write poetry or paint their nails-- that there are no "boy colors" and "girl colors", that there are no "men's jobs" and "women's jobs", that they could just do what they want because it makes them happy. They don't even know that being happy is more important than filling their sociological niche that someone else has carved out for them. It reminds me when I learned the story of Siddhartha Gautama when I was little, and that he had no idea that poverty, sickness, and suffering even existed because he had never been outside the palace walls and, not that I'm saying every man can achieve nirvana in an afternoon (or even in a lifetime), sometimes someone who knows what's outside the walls has to let you know that there is even something beyond the walls.

Which is also not to say that women need to be doing all the work for men. I spent ten years trying to disabuse a man of the "things he has to do to be manly" and it ended with him breaking up with me and joining a trad christian cult.

Some men (like my ex) are just extremely resistant to change because change is terrifying, but they also have this sense of Sunk Cost Fallacy, where if they were doing this thing the whole time and it's not working, then what were they wasting their time on?? (I feel like you see this with a lot of evangelical/trad Christians as well, where the idea that they might have been wrong is so scary that they double down on their beliefs in the hope that it will work out for them.)

But, there are also men like a book reviewer I was watching a few days ago (whose name I don't know), who admitted that he really had no idea women were catcalled as much as we say we are, until he was grocery shopping with his girlfriend and she went into the next aisle (literally like five feet away, just with the wall of food between them) and he heard a man catcall her. Like, the second she walked away from him and she no longer obviously belonged to him (in the mind of horrible men like her catcaller) she was suddenly fair game to be harassed in public. And he said that he never didn't believe his girlfriend, but to witness something makes it so much more real. To use my "wall" metaphor another way: he and so many men are still inside the palace, experiencing what they think is the same life others experience, while women are outside of the walls, struggling. The incident of hearing his girlfriend (who is an adult women and who shouldn't need him constantly around as protection from horrible men) being treated like an object while she's by herself was like someone grabbing his hand and pulling him outside the walls without even asking if he wanted to go, showing him a truth that can only be experienced by someone who is not him.

Back to Bell Hooks because there was something I wanted to add: yes she does say that it is at least partly the job of feminists to help to deprogram men. Men, as a group, have been brainwashed to think that they have to be The Provider, The Protector, The Leader, and not all of them are good at providing, protecting, or leading. Maybe some of them want to do the things I mentioned before like care for others (in the way we would describe as "maternal" and attribute to women), maybe they want to create art or do crafts or other things not considered "traditionally masculine", and that's not even taking into account that the "traditional idea" of a man is to be constantly wanting sex, and that men could never be sexually assaulted because they're in a constant state of wanting to fuck (obviously this is a lie; anyone can be sexually assaulted, and not everyone wants to fuck). You can't just take a dog who was taught only to fight and put it in a house of children, it won't know how to act around them and might attack them: it needs to be rehabilitated first.

And Bell Hooks does note, that the problem with trying to deprogram men comes from how they're raised. I'd like to submit this video about men and empathy, since I've already typed a bunch:

When I was reading The Will To Change and I got up to the part about her dad, I realized how different my dad is. And, because you don't get to choose your parents, I consider myself very lucky that my dad has always been unconditional in his love. For a moment I almost found this strange because his older brother was the "golden child" and his younger brother was "the baby", so he should have been somewhat neglected because they always got more affection from their parents, but I think it's because he was the favorite of his four girl cousins who would take him everywhere and fight over him (even now, he's the one they're excited to see and they shittalk the other two lol). So, I have a sneaking suspicion that the only reason he didn't end up shitty like his brothers, is because when he was a child he had four girls who were showing him what unconditional love was like and that you don't need to meet the criteria of your niche in order to receive love.

Which, I have to thank them for, because it's so much easier not having to decide whether or not I want to talk to my own parents as an adult because they've gone Fox News Insane. Both my parents will actually ask me about things they don't understand - like trans rights, queer rights in general, voting (I made them a paper of who/what to vote for for the election since the props always need extra research), geopolitical things - and I've even caught my dad making fun of conspiracy theorists and the thinking that trans women are ruining sports (he's a big sports guy and he mostly watches women's bball because he likes that they actually have to play as a team in a team sport). Life is a lot easier when both parents have empathy and don't have to be convinced to care about others.

And I think that's why the OG post I saw quoted Bell Hooks, because the "we need to rehabilitate men otherwise we can't have the feminist future we want" contingent of feminism never really took off; there was one-- I believe they were originally called "Meninists" as in "men who are feminists" and I've seen a picture of them from a parade in the 70s, but it died out because they were fighting such an uphill battle trying to convince other men to join. So now, we have more women who are independent and who have de-centered men from their lives, but also a bunch of men who were never rehabbed and who don't know their life doesn't need to revolve around "being a man." Being a man means being strong, it means being able to provide, it means being attractive; and the Tates and Fresh and Fits and all the other scam artists of the world sell them this on steroids: buy my book and you WILL be hot, you WILL be a millionaire, you WILL have women who want to fuck you...

Never mind that those guys are probably on actual steroids, they only have that money from scamming other men, and many of them have been found to hire escorts (which, there's nothing wrong with hiring sex workers, but there's a difference between selling the idea that you'll be so charismatic that women will throw themselves at you and having to hire a sex worker because your personality is so bad that no one wants to go near you.)

They're selling a false ideal to men who don't even know it's false in the first place.

But going back to Ms Hooks again: she did talk a great deal about how we need to raise our boys (as a society). She talks about how the whole thing of telling a nine-year old "Take care of your mother" is an insane notion, because he's nine and he can't do anything, and she's an adult woman who is actually the caretaker; and about how boy babies are treated so differently even to the point of "baby boys should not cry as much as baby girls". Like, the gender requirements are there before they can even talk, no wonder they're so damaged and hard to convince of anything later in life.

Reads with Rachel and her husband, Carlos, had two really good discussions about masculinity; one about real masculinity vs performed masculinity as they compared two books about being a man:

As Rachel says after Carlos complained about being made fun of for cleaning his nails after working on his car ("I work an office job and I have cleanliness standards"): "It's not enough for you to know how to work on a car, you also have to be dirty in order to be the manliest man."

The other is in the context of talking about how Patrick Rothfuss isn't the feminist he thinks he is because he still wants the women around him to perform femininity so he can perform masculinity and feel like "a big strong man" before going into a general discussion about masculinity (from about 9:01 to 53:55):

Together they ask a really good question (pardon me if I don't remember it verbatim): "Why does it take someone acting in a particular role for you to feel like a man?" And it's easier for Carlos to be able to deal with that question, because he started deconstructing from the patriarchy when he was 25 (he said he's 32 at the time of that video). It's something he and Rachel have done together as they learn and grow and live their lives together, him deconstructing from the patriarchy and her deconstructing from her fundamentalist christian upbringing (which is basically just The Patriarchy, but More, and +God.) And they've done this because they came to realize their upbringing was wrong, and they didn't want to raise their sons to be saddled with the same baggage that they both grew up with that made their lives worse.

So yeah, I forgot where I was going with this anymore since finding the one video took so long. The majority of men are resistant to changing their mind and it's because they were raised to be unemotional and not care about others but, sometimes, if maybe you've been friends with someone a while and take the time to explain something in a way they understand, you can change someone's mind. Story time:

I was a mod for a streamer for about a month and a half roundabouts January to February of this year (I ended up leaving because trying to get a bunch of randos to behave was stressful - esp since the streamer's rules weren't clear - and I ended up not really liking the streamer as a person). One person in the discord said that they hated the phrase "It's not my job to educate you" because it was condescending. I defended it as people being tired of having to explain shit to people just because they're black or trans or a woman but a bunch of people latched on and started saying anti-left things, which was weird because the streamer and his discord were supposed to be leftist (it's part of why I left, he was just weirdly antagonistic towards leftist ideals despite calling himself a leftist and he was attracting some *ahem* weird types). Anyway, a day goes by and a trans person comes in and says something like "I don't think I should have to explain my existence to random people on the street just because I decided to go outside," and a bunch of people descended on them, telling them they were wrong, and I'm pretty sure they ended up leaving the server.

[Like, the original group-agreed-upon argument came down to "I shouldn't have to google things or look up books to read or do my own work to discover anything new about the world, I should be able to demand of a random person's time and energy, even though I'm not giving off the vibe of someone who is actually ready to listen" and when I pointed out that people know when someone is and is not ready to listen, the streamer himself asked me how I knew and I was like like "do you think that I, a woman in her 30s, is somehow incapable of being able to discern intent?" Most women and queer folk KNOW who's a bad actor before they open their mouth, the idea that any of us wouldn't was just wildly ignorant.]

I complained to my friend (who I had met in the server) that the streamer was wrong and everyone's reaction was bullshit and, at first, he agreed with the position that a trans person should be prepared to debate people on their own rights if they deign to step outside their home. I countered with "You know, [streamer] doesn't it get it because he's a straight white man. He's the default. Other straight white men already know what it's like to be a straight white man so they have no questions for him. But to be trans or otherwise queer or a woman or any other person outside of a white man, is to have people question whether you have a right to be where you are. Trans women I've known have told me that they've had complete randos ask them if they've had bottom surgery and just-- how is that their business? People act so invasive towards non-straight non-white non-men in a way that no one does towards straight white men that they literally just can't understand what it's like to have your existence questioned just because you went outside. Asking a stranger if they've had bottom surgery is LITERALLY sexual harassment, and no one would ever walk up to someone like [streamer] and ask him like, "How big is your dick?" or something of a similar nature because that's just insane behavior, but when it's a trans person or a woman, it's suddenly okay? Like why do you think that is?" And my comparison to how white men are treated vs everyone else, and my stance that asking a stranger if they've had bottom surgery is sexual harassment (it is, no one needs to know about your genitalia) got through to him and he agreed with me. Awhile later I even heard him saying something similar to someone else about a situation that was similar and taking up the stance that I had given him.

So like... yeah, I probably wouldn't do that for a random man on the internet who is determined to hate me, but I can do it for a friend who I know might be receptive to what I have to say to him, and help steer him away from opinions that could end up dragging him down the wrong path.

As this post's OP said: "it's not saying you HAVE to do it! it's saying you CAN do it!"

It's up to you if you want to try effecting the people around you, but if they've dug in their heels that much then it's okay if you want to leave and not speak to them again. Just know that, it's only so hard for you because they were brainwashed since birth to think the way they think and that's REALLY hard to undo. And that's not a pass, that's just the reason why this is so fucking hard for the rest of us (when they're adults and harder to reason with because they're so invested) and also, the reason why mothers of sons need to maybe rethink how they're raising them. Like, don't raise them with "boy colors" and "girl colors" raise them with "colors." Dance isn't something a girl does, it's something a body does. Women don't cook because cooking is a woman's thing, people cook because they want to eat. And... I'll be honest, I've known a few women who are just so mean to their husbands in a "why can't you be a real man?" way, and I just DON'T see how that makes him want to be a better person, but then again, those woman probably need as much deprogramming as their husbands do since they just keep reinforcing something that (she may not even be aware) is hurting them both.

So yeah, sorry if this was a bit rambling, but seeing people fight back and forth for the past week and seeing people take up some really... Mad Max-ian, like, ultra-anarcho-capitalist positions of "we shouldn't help any man at all, fuck em!" was really weird when it was being said by people who purport themselves as being feminists when feminist ethics is supposed to be more compassionate. There were just a handful of reactions I saw that seemed very "pull yourself up out of the patriarchy by your bootstraps" but like... what if their boots don't have bootstraps? What if they don't even have shoes on? What if they don't even know they could have shoes?

posts about the alt-right pipeline being compassionate towards young men while radical leftists shun and shame them are not fucking saying "the men are becoming violent because feminists are too mean!" and if that is your takeaway you need to get off tumblr until you've better honed your critical thinking skills.

those posts are talking about how effective the language and approach you take in your activism can be. this is literally cult deprogramming 101. if someone is being taken in by a violent or dangerous group, that violent or dangerous group is usually offering them compassion and solace while working hard to convince them everyone else in the world is their enemy. you are under no obligation to coddle or act compassionate toward these men and their violent ideologies, but if you have the means to try, it is something that you can do to make a tangible difference.

radicalized people are often only one loving friend or family member or external voice away from being de-radicalized. of course that is not always the case, but it very often is. a lot of y'all rightfully understand that you do not carry the burden of being that voice, but a lot of y'all also have a lot of internalized ideas about morals and punitive justice and have simply written off these people as deserving of only the worst and not worth saving.

ten years ago, my grandmother was a fox news watching republican who voted red in every election and very well could have fallen down the qanon rabbit hole if not for me and her daughter challenging her compassionately, walking her through hypotheticals that validated her feelings & proving why they were false, & being patient with her despite our extreme division in political ideology. it was frustrating fucking work! but i decided i wanted to do it, because i could see the horizon and i could see me making a difference!

"misogynists have been saying feminists are too mean for years, get new material" that is not the fucking POINT. the point is that you, feminist, can be the compassionate voice that guides your brother, your father, your cousin, your grandfather away from fucking becoming or staying a nazi. you can show them compassion and companionship. you can be the woman they think of when their alt-right bros try to convince them that women are the enemy. and you can choose to crystallize that image of yourself so wholly in their mind's eye as worth protecting that they may very well choose to reject those harmful ideas.

it's not saying you HAVE to do it! it's saying you CAN do it! don't you 'firebomb a walmart' people all love taking change into your own hands? where the fuck is that energy right now, huh?

[raysrambles]

on the day the election results got announced, one of my friends wasn't at school. she was the friend that I had the most classes with, and I remember as the hours ticked by the painful knowledge that she wasn't sick, not physically, but that she just couldn't bear to be there that day.

i overheard classmates talking. "how are you?" asked one; in a broken voice, another: "I don't know".

"I'm scared," was the most common sentence I heard that day. "i can't live like this," said someone in the hallway; "we've still got each other," said another in what I desperately wanted to believe was hope.

"I prayed last night for the first time since I was five," said a friend of a friend; I looked out the classroom window at the cloudy sky and wondered if there was a god, and if he had heard them.

I watched people break down crying in the middle of class. by the end of the day, several kids had left school early.

"I need to get out of here," I said to my friends at lunch. "we're not going to make it another four years," said one of them grimly. how dystopian, how orwellian was it that a group of seventeen year olds were so casually discussing their escape from the country they had grown up in, the country that had raised them only to throw them to the dirt before they were even able to vote?

after school i drove to another school for a debate tournament. one of the judges who I hadn't seen in a year and with whom I'd only had one or two conversations came up to me and asked "how are you doing?"

"could be better," I admitted, "but I'm surviving." that was a bit of an understatement; there were tears in my eyes even as I spoke.

"I'm here," she told me, this woman who I hardly knew, and I realized that she was asking because she remembered one of our only interactions, a year ago, where I had casually mentioned being trans--

--and her gaze flitted down to my shoes, where back then I had had beads in the colors of the trans flag, beads that weren't there anymore, not because of any change in myself but that of the world around me.

"I'm here," she said again, and we stared at each other for a few seconds. I managed a "thanks", not trusting myself to say anything else.

that night I went onto Instagram. someone I hadn't spoken to since we fell out over a year ago had texted me a simple "I love you and am with you" type of message. all of my friends and even people I hardly knew were posting about the election, and I remembered

back when Biden was elected, the Republicans I saw online reacted with hatred, disgust, doubt for his abilities

but now all I saw from the ones who had lost this battle was fear

when the other side lost, they had the privilege of hatred

now that we've lost, all we can do is fear.

terrified sixteen, seventeen, eighteen year olds, in flurries of messages to long-gone friends and frantic posts. I had never felt more united, and yet I could not relish in our closeness because I knew it was not the closeness of friends but the closeness of soldiers too young for war, huddling close as their imminent death rained down from the sky, searching for some last comfort at the end of their too-short stories.

"I won't pretend this isn't as bad as it is," I typed out, "honestly I'm freaking scared. But we owe it to ourselves not to let this be the end of our beliefs.

"We still know we're right, even if the government doesn't agree. We're still all in this together.

"Love to everyone who's affected by this. I'm right here with you. Stay safe everyone."

I posted the Instagram story, praying to a god I didn't know that the words were true.

the next night when the house and senate election results came in, I cried, and it was not pretty crying, it was a child wracked with sobs in the dark on the floor of their room because they were only seventeen and terrified for their future.

I spent a long time writing that night, something I do to process my thoughts when everything is too much. I will simply offer this passage, which I think speaks for itself.

"Shall I tell them I am afraid because of the election? Shall I tell them that all day I have felt like a child masquerading as a man, scared of the boogeyman as i am scared of the fascist-like creature whose grasp is tightening and whose claws never cease, closing in on lives like a predator its prey? That I am a child scared of insignificance, of a fate I did not choose, of becoming a meaningless name among many, not of democracy falling but of not being the one who felled it?"

So to everyone celebrating the election, I'm glad that you're happy, truly I am. But I ask you to think of me and my friends, still children, most of us not quite old enough to even have our say in this country, as you laugh and rejoice and mock all of us who you defeated.

How many times must we cry, must we fall, must we watch each other die before enough will be enough?

Will it ever be enough?

[hexlenx]

EVEN IN OTHER UNIVERSES, I LOVE YOU. — aaron taylor-johnson

In which you came home tired from work and only just wanted to lay down on your shared-bed with your husband. Only to see five different version of said husband.

note: hello! So I have come to write another one shot or fic or whatever you call it because I couldn't help myself but write this new idea I thought of. I do hope you enjoy!

warnings!: none because we fluffy today pookie.

__________________

Sighing tiredly you let out a groan as you took a small break in your car, resting your head on the steering wheel as you closed your eyes for a few moments.

You just finished your work from helping your director write the script for the next movie you're starring. You see, you've been an actress in the industry for a long time now and even though it's tiring you continue to work through it as it is your passion. Plus, it's where you met your lovable and handsome husband. A fellow well-known actor in the industry.

The director asked for your help because you had experience in directing as well as a degree for it. So hence why you also came home late while your husband went ahead after a bit of your persuasion. Thinking of your husband, you smiled fondly. How can you be so lucky to have such a man?

While you were taking a small break from your car, said husband was sweating profusely in the kitchen with a spatula in hand while wearing a pink apron.

Looking at the five males in front of him, Aaron cursed underneath his breath.

"Fuck me."

The gate opened automatically after scanning your car's number plate. Before driving in reverse towards the garage door. Humming a soft tune you put the car on park and grabbed everything you need from the car before coming out of it.

Opening the door connected to the kitchen, you took off your shoes and hanged your coat on the hanger before calling out to your husband with a bright smile.

"Honey, I'm home!" Your smile slowly turned into worry as you were greeted by nothing. Usually you were greeted by a beaming charming smile as well as a giant hug lifting you off from your feet while being spun around by your husband.

Where could he be?

"Aaron? You there?" In slight worry you walked around the first floor of the house searching for your husband, but alas there was no sign so you moved upstairs.

There was a thump in one of the rooms when you were in the middle of walking on the stairs making you feel worry and fear when you heard a voice groaning as well as cursing. Your mind was running in a fast pace as you run up from the stairs towards the source of those noises.

No it can't be, please tell me he didn't—

The scene in front of you shocked you. The noises stopped as the figures looked at you in silence.

"Love, I can explain—" Aaron was the first to break the silence with his hands up as if he was trying not to anger you. And let me tell you, you do not want an angry wife at you.

However, instead of an angry wife. You looked like you were about to cry. You see, another thing about you is that you are quite an open and very sensitive person. Your legs gave up as you collapsed on the floor, tears running down your face as your exhaustion mixed with your anxiety was not a good combination right now.

"I—i thought you were with a w-woman—" you stuttered as your husband immediately went over you to put you in his embrace the moment your knees buckled whispering praises as well as reassurance to you. Desperately trying to calm you down. He knew you were very tired since it's about ten in the evening by now and he supposes that the noises he and the others made, made you think of something else.

His heart broke just by thinking he was doing things to another woman other than you, he cannot and will never do such a thing to you. He loves you too much to do so.

The five other male in the room looked at the scene in front of them, disbelief clear in their faces as they looked at your figure. Hearts beating uncontrollably as the younger looking male in the room muttered a name.

Your name.

This made all of you to snap your heads up to the male. Now that you look at it, they all looked just like your husband. No, actually all of them are your husband. No one can impersonate your husband unless it's your husband himself, his face is too unique to be able to copy.

"Why are there five more of you?"

Now that the situation has calmed down, you, your husband and five more of him sat in the living room in silence. Assessing the situation.

"So you're telling me that you, Dave was getting beaten up almost to death before coming here? James, you got here when you were stuck by Voldemort. Alexei, got here when you fell from your horse at full speed, head first. Tangerine, you got here after getting shot on the neck trying to kill the White Death's child and Pietro, you got shot multiple times by saving Clint from dying? Have I summarized it correctly?" You summarized outloud as the others nodded to confirm your statement. You sighed as both you and your husband looked at each other, not knowing what to do since unlike some of their worlds, you guys don't have the power to bring them back to theirs. But they all don't seem like they're hurt from their explanations. Maybe it's cuz they're in a different world.

"What were you doing before I barged in the room?" You asked your husband who looked everywhere but you.

"I was trying to give them some clothes, Dave, Pietro and James was the only one who accepted it but the other two wanted something that fit their styles." Aaron sighed as he took a sip at the coffee he made since it was getting late. He really thinks that you should rest first and let him handle it though.

"Sorry gentlemen, but it's quite late in the evening and I would like to take a nap and rest. We will take care of this tomorrow." You sent them a tired smile as you stood up from your seat and towards your bedroom upstairs, leaving all six of them in the room.

As soon as you were out of hearing range, Aaron's expression turned cold as he looked at Dave. Even if he knew the kid wouldn't hurt his wife because he played his character years ago, he will still not let loose his guard. Dave flinched from the glare and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly while the others stared at him the same way as Aaron, that's weird.

"How do you know my wife?"

This made the men's eyes go wide. Wife? That made them collectively let out a sigh of relief. Wife..

"She's also your wife?" James asked Aaron, it's kind of weird talking to yourself as he looked at the older one in wonder.

"also?" Aaron questioned.

"Yea, I mean. In my universe I married her and had Harry after we got married at twenty-one." James enthusiastically explained as his face brightened up when talking about his lover.

"Uh.. she's my girlfriend in my universe too." Dave lifted up his hand awkwardly. Though you can see that he is also happy to announce that you are his lover.

"I'm also her lover when I have escaped Hydra with my twin sister." Pietro said with a charming smile, his face brightening up whenever he mentioned his wife.

"I'm married to'er in my universe. Doll, was the only one who accepted me other than my brother." Tangerine uttered out as he lit up a cigarette before puffing it out the smoke from his mouth, where he got that from? I don't know and neither does the others.

"...she is my affair, my lover that I intend to protect with all of my soul. The only maiden who saw me for me and not some viscount." Alexei said as his eyes were clouded with the memories of his lover. Ah, how he longed to be in her arms again.

"All of us are her lovers in another universe, huh?" Aaron sighed out, his smile coming out as he thought that even in different versions of himself, he chooses you and is still with you. It makes him sigh in content and happiness as he is assured that no matter what happens, he is still with you in the end.

"Even in every other universes, I love you." All men uttered out, the atmosphere becoming serene as they sat in a few moments of silence.

Warmth filled their chests as the leaned back in their seats as their thoughts only circled in one subject.

You.

[jellicatty]

♯2 ┆ ❝ GROUPIE LOVE ❞ 𝜗𝜚 ᵎᵎ

Their tolerance is quickly crumbling under the weight of your relentless, wicked charm. It’s only a matter of time before their lust spills over. And unfortunately for you, the dam finally breaks during your work shift.

╰┈➤ contains : nanami x beverage cart attendant! female reader x higuruma. no curses au. flirty reader. jealous! nanami. really reaaaally mean higu. THREESOME. public sex. no protection. creampie (yipee). shoko present here. 6k words (it's an easy read trust).

╰┈➤ note : MY HANDS ARE LITERALLY SWEATING PLEASEEE okay wait disclaimer im not a smut writer but i did enjoy writing it hueheu OKAY ENJOY READING MY BFFS ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ (hoping i don't disappoint) (a bit scared).

The harsh rings of the telephone cuts right through Nanami's ears, yet his face remained unresponsive at the sound. It was normal to be surrounded by phone calls, mugs of black coffee, and especially the snores of his coworkers.

A normal day.

Well, not so normal anymore.

From the day he and Higuruma had their eyes on you, life has been something that Nanami looked forward to. It was still riddled by his tiring occupation, but his bi-weekly golf meets with his friend turned his dull life upside down. He might be exaggerating, but that's what a good pussy/ a pretty girl does to him.

"Hey... Why are you looking so dashing all of a sudden, Kento?" His colleague asked from his work cubicle, voice groggy from being woken by his five minute alarm. Although not intending to be rude, Nanami's focus stayed fixed on his screen, typing away whatever he needed to.

"You don't have a girl yet, right?" His co-worker leaned closer to his face, eyes suspecting the blond's hyper-focused gaze. "Right..?"

With a sigh, Nanami answers, "No, I've been playing golf lately." It wasn't a lie but it wasn't the truth either.

"No offense, but Golf? Out of all sports?" Nanami's politeness cracks for a moment, glaring at his colleague at his sudden comment.

"Please, excuse me—"

Ding!

Their eyes lands on Nanami's laptop where the notification sound came from. It wasn't an ad from a random online website or an alarming message, but rather, an anonymous text from Higuruma.

"Higuruma? Is that your girl—"

"Please, excuse me, I need to finish my work." Before his coworker could overstep his boundaries, Nanami quickly cuts them off.

A message from Higuruma at this hour was one of the things he least expected. Not only was he occupied with his work, the two actually never texted each other unless needing assistance and their hangouts. Nanami stared at the screen for a moment, then clicked the notification bar.

“Do you have a moment?” It read. Nanami hesitates to respond when Higuruma’s intention still isn’t clear to him yet. Another message arrives, this time fully capturing his attention.

“It’s about her.”

Afternoon had already approached, yet your body laid on your silk sheets. Realization has not completely settled and a nagging feeling inside you hammered. You were going on a date with a man you met from work. And you might fuck him tonight.

As the seconds pass by, exhilaration pumped in your veins. Weeks were gone with the wind since you had been spontaneously invited by Higuruma. Ever since then, your nights have been spent by scrolling through online stores for dresses— one that's sure to weaken his knees. dresses that can be easily slipped off too

On the other hand, your reality was a nightmare for someone else. And that someone was none other than Ieiri Shoko, your best friend, and fellow beverage cart attendant. If she was ever in your situation, she would have ran to the nearest highway and voluntarily approached a ten wheeler truck— her words, not yours.

"Were you even listening?" Shoko raised her voice, still overshadowed by the loud music from your laptop.

"Can't hear you!" Cautiously, you rolled your hair around the gadget and released it. Roll. Press. Release. Your routine continued while music blasted from your bedazzled speakers. "Or Nah" by The Weeknd and other artists, a filthy song for a filthy woman— or at least, that's what Shoko said.

"Please stop the music, I'm sick of hearing women moaning and bed squeaking every damn minute,"

"Fine, fine!" With a giggle, you lowered the volume, finally lending an ear to Shoko's daily rant. "What were you saying again?"

Shoko rolled her eyes, "Whatever, I said you look fucking delicious" her deadpan evident in her tone, "Oh, I'm flattered!" Roll. Press. Release. And finally, your hair was done and curled to perfection. Your focus shifted to your makeup bags, another battlefield to enter. But this war was a familiar one, and after a short time, your makeup was done to your liking.

While Shoko released her frustrations through rambling, you busied yourself with your reflection, which you had been staring at for a minute now. The sun had set and the familiar orange hues were streaming from your windows when you had finished. Anticipation crept, and once again, you find yourself daydreaming how the next moments will be. You’re planning on ending the night without a surprise, and you're certain you won’t be leaving without a catch too. Will he confess his desires through discrete touches? Does his plan include you being brought to his doorstep? Whatever it is, you were in on it. And for it to happen, you wore a good fucking dress to impress Higuruma.

You walked back to your desk and gave Shoko a clear view of your stunning choice of clothing. The sensual yet formal style of your dress heightened your charm even more. One gaze and a man will wonder what lies beneath it. Hopefully, that man will be Higuruma tonight. And hopefully, he takes notice of your daring move of choosing a backless dress. Back exposed and bare, only welcoming his warm touch.

In a trance, Shoko’s lips shut when you asked her, "So, what's the vibe?"

"Uh, hot vibe?"

"No, silly! Like, is it giving a dinner date with your ex-husband and showing up in a revenge dress to seduce him back? Or, is it giving a first date night with the side chick?"

Her mind stalled for a moment, before replying, "Yeah"

“That was very helpful!” Shoko rolled her eyes at your sarcasm. Your attention was drawn to your phone where a loud ding erupted from. Higuruma’s notification pops, and instantly you were zooming around your room for your final touches. You squealed, earning another annoyed sigh from your friend.

“Toodles, Ieri!” And with that, you closed your gadgets shut, sprayed perfume once more and slipped on your heels. One last look at your reflection, and you were good to go. Each step you took was accompanied by the hammering beats of your heart. Before you open your door, you peeked into its peeping hole. Outside, Higuruma idled by your porch, examining your house while his hands clutched a bouquet. You quietly gasped at his sweet surprise.

Finally ready, you swung the door open, “Nice to see you here, Sir Hiromi,” his name rolled off your tongue with a teasing lilt, one that’s daring him to step an inch inside your home. And he would have, because your appearance for tonight was not something that his control could take.

Higuruma wanted to stop time right there and then, at the exact moment you stepped out of your door with flushed cheeks and a dazzling grin. He wanted to take his time in analyzing every curve and inch of your skin. The rise and fall of your chest, the delicate beauty marks adorning your body, the shine of your lips, and that fucking dress. He was only a man after all, and any man would fall to their knees if they ever were graced with your stunning look tonight.

“Lovely to see you too,” There was a pause in his words, and although his lips were locked, his mind scrambled for the words to say. “Y/N,”

“Yes, Sir Hiromi?”

“Just Hiromi tonight, love.”

“Hiromi,” His name is followed by a giggle.

The man extended his gift to you, “Before we go, I want to give you this.” Immediately, the fresh scent of the hand picked peonies and tulips greeted you. Its vibrant colors matched your dress. Your appreciation fell from your lips, and without wasting any more time, the two of you settled inside his sleek black car.

“You’re comfortable, right?” Higuruma briefly glanced at you, then you replied with a polite smile. You have not even reached your destination yet but you were already drunk. His rich perfume whiffed about in the air, his scent dangerously intoxicating you and fueling your lustful imagination. His choice of clothing was a weapon too; a black tuxedo fitted perfectly on his form. And his nose, how could you ever forget his perfect nose.

Unconsciously, your teeth bit your lip. That damn charm never faded even when he simply drove. Were you reaching your breaking point? Or is it that time of the week again? Whatever, you needed him. The feeling’s mutual though. Higuruma, too, finds you irresistible under the moonlight.

An inner turmoil stirred inside him, though. His hesitance of bringing you to the date gnawed at him gradually. The closer you got, the more he wanted to turn back and drive fast to your house, needing you to be all for himself tonight. But, there’s no turning back now, not when another surprise is already waiting at the venue.

Higuruma sneaked a glance on your exposed thigh.

Christ.

Did you even know the extent of your control over his restless mind? That, just one more word slipping from your mouth would tilt him over to the edge? His composure is unraveling under the force of your mere presence and you’re so blatantly unaware of it. Your blindness to his suffering tethers him even more to you. It’s almost indescribable how badly he wants to put himself under you. under your pussy

God, he thought. May God extend his restraint because another moment alone with you will drain all his control.

Aside from his buzzing train of thoughts, the ride to the restaurant was silent. Nevertheless, your unspoken desires spoke for yourselves. A part of Higuruma was also glad you remained still, for hearing your sweet voice might just be the last push.

After a few grueling minutes of fucking you in his own world, the both of you arrived at your destination. Higuruma swiftly led you to your assigned table, where a surprise caught your breath.

“S-Sir Kento?”

Ah, there you are, Nanami’s object of nightly affection.

And just when you thought your night couldn’t get any better, Nanami sat at the booth. His eyes shifted from the menu to yours, capturing yours with a playful glint. Your grip on your purse tightened as Higuruma walked you to him.

“Thought it would be nice to have him with us.” Higuruma smiles and gestures for you to sit beside him and you excitedly do so. Albeit your visible shyness, you quickly warm up within their presence. And after some greetings, dinner started.

Your attention shifted to Nanami, who appears to be very sophisticated with his suit and tie. Fuck, it’s embarrasing to admit it but these men have outsmarted you, turning the tables and making you their playtoy instead. You’re not letting your hard headed self succumb without a fight of course.

When the food arrived, your plan silently commenced. As you bit your meal, your foot brushed against Nanami’s, earning a warning glance from him. Stubborn, you let your teasing continue. Slowly, you rubbed your heels, tracing lines on his skin that made him tense, before subtly lifting up the ends of his trousers. Nanami decided to clear his throat, as if signaling Higuruma.

“So, what about you, sweets? You can’t be sitting in your room all dolled up everyday.” Higuruma asked, placing his palm on your exposed thigh.

You’re caught speechless, “I…” You looked up at him, wordlessly begging for mercy as his hand went closer to your clothed sex. Nanami played dumb across you, finding amusement at your predicament.

“Oh, me?” You gulped, rushing for a word to say.

“Haha! I’m actually quite uninteresting once you get to know me.” Your laughter failed to cover the rising tension within the room. And just from Nanami’s stifled snicker, you knew you were an idiot for even attempting to play it off.

Higuruma went on, “Seriously? No boyfriend to talk to or anything?” You grew hotter under their intense gazes, grappling at your composure to stay under Higuruma’s taunting moves.

“No.. No boyfriend.”

“You can’t fool adults, angel. A pretty lady like you ought to grab some attention, hm?”

Higuruma squeezes your inner thigh, “A-attention?”

“Yeah, your mini skirts were distracting. Or you don’t know that either?” They’re taunting you and you’re falling for it. Gradually, but surely. They’ve found your weakness, using it to satisfy their need for humiliation; almost like a punishment for teasing them.

“S-skirts…? Oh!” Your sentence is interrupted by Higuruma’s sneaky hand that was now placed before your pussy. Dissatisfied with your limited expression, Higuruma pushed your button by grazing his finger on your nub. And for a moment, your face faltered and a short gasp left your lips.

Your mind screamed at him for his teasing, loathing at his want for humiliating you publicly. Yet, your unbridled hatred for him could not mask your desire. Each glide of his finger against your sex was intoxicating. You never thought he’d crossed the line in a restaurant, surrounded by dining visitors and watched intently by Nanami himself. Dread etched onto your face as you helplessly feel your control entangle itself within Higuruma’s lust, bound by your need for excitement.

You lift your head, facing Higuruma with a newfound courage to endure his seduction.

“Hiromi—”

“Do you need water?,” He began rubbing his index finger on your clit, “You look rather flushed.” You struggled to reply when his movement went faster. Embarrassingly, your pussy welcomed his hand, slick pooling in your panties. You can’t think straight. Not when Higuruma’s fingers are only quickening by every passing second. Or when Nanami’s staring at you with such hunger it’s almost primal.

“Hiromi, It may be beige this time.” Nanami chimed in, seemingly unbothered by the growing tent in his own pants. “Mhm? Oh, I agree with you on that one.”

“W-what are you guys talking ab—”

“It’s just a game me and Kento play.”

If it wasn’t for the table's long drapes and the cloth on your lap, everyone beside you would have seen the scene. And if it also wasn’t for the waiter who asked for the desserts, you would’ve coated Higuruma’s finger with your cum.

“May I now serve the desert?”

“Please do.” Nanami gave the server a smile. And just like that, the tension from earlier dissipated and the two men were now back to normal. They chewed their meals and laughed heartily at their conversations, ignorant to your dazed expression.

The whole dinner went by without any more intrusions and fastly, it had come to an end. You stepped out of the restaurant, arm linked around Higuruma’s with the bouquet in hand while you bid your goodbyes to Nanami. It was unfortunate that your dinner with them had to end, but that means you now have the chance to return their gesture.

It was clear the tension from earlier was still present. With Higuruma failing to keep his attention on the road ahead, and your eyes drifting from the window to his crotch, a few words needed to be said.

“Hiromi, that was so unfair!” You pouted, and Higuruma could only chuckle as his response.

“I’ll make it up to you,” He looked at you, “We will make it up to you.”

“How?” You bit your lip, pressing your legs together to ease your arousal.

“You know how.”

“But I don’t know how.” Higuruma lets out a soft grunt at your words, caught between annoyance and exhilaration. You can’t have your way with him and you know that. He’s still in control but seeing him lose his insanity over just mere words made you laugh.

“Please?” Your tone dripped with hoax innocence, pressing onto his patience even more when he stayed silent. “Stop being such a gentleman, Sir Hiromi!”

“Careful” He warned, “You might get more than you wish for.” But his statement only added fuel to the fire, igniting another desire within you to see how far you can go.

You swallowed your hesitance, “But that’s what I want.”

“Test me one more time, Y/N.”

Was it a threat? An order? Anyway you see it, you will be the one about to be tested. It’s frightening; you have a zero idea of what he can promise you after pushing his buttons. However, the fear of the unknown sends a sweet ache down your sex only he could relieve. But seeing that you’ve pressed him, you might be getting anything but a sweet treat.

“Come on, tell me how you’ve been touching yourself to the thought of being shared.”

Your body stiffened at his bold accusation, flinching even.

“Oh, was that too much? A sweet girl like you can’t handle words like that? Was it too mean, Name?” He mocked you, but your body betrayed his mockery as your pussy dripped with more lust.

“Where did all that confidence go? Where’s the girl that will grind on Nanami’s dick in front of me? Or did my little stunt earlier put you in your place? Perhaps, I need to do more to get it through your skull.”

You clenched your fists, ready to face his tenure, but your voice wavered. “Y-you’re the one who’s mean! You touched me in front of everyone!”

“Now you’re acting like you didn’t enjoy it— like you didn’t love Nanami’s eyes all over you.” His words cut right through the air, striking you a fact that you weren’t ready to accept. The sudden hushness of your voice was the only confirmation Higuruma needed. Slowly, his lips contorted into a smile.

His unbelievable behavior with you was uncharacteristic and hardly a reflection of who he used to be; a result of crossing your boundaries. As he drives a kilometer closer and closer to your house, you get to see his true nature— a hungry, and sadistic man. A man who reveled in your indignity. It wasn’t off-putting, though. If anything, it turned you on even more.

Your ride was almost coming to an end, yet none of you spoke up. Higuruma still had that stupid smile on his face, while you’re still shaken from your argument with him. When you arrived at your front porch, you hurriedly stepped out of the car, eager to escape whatever words he’ll be saying.

“You’re mean, Hiromi!” You scowled, stomping to your front door while Higuruma trailed behind without wiping his smile off his face. “Mean? I thought you liked that too.” You shot him a mocking smile before pushing your door open. However, Higuruma’s quick to close it shut.

His coy mockery slipped, revealing his genuine concern, “You… still enjoyed it, right?” he asked, needing to be assured. A small giggle ran past your lips, turning around to face the man who held a softer gaze than before. There was a pause in your movement, mind in a dilemma over what your next response should be. But one thing’s for sure; you’re ready for another date, and hopefully it goes past just rubbing you under tables.

Higuruma awaited your next move, curious at your roaming eyes. Suddenly, you started to flicker inexistent dust off his suit and fixed his unmoving tie. You took your time with your fingers, gliding them across his firm chest, unaware of his rapid heartbeat. Grabbing the lapel of his suit, you slowly pulled him into you just close enough to have your lips ghosting over his ear.

“Next time… Don’t disappoint me, Sir Hiromi. ”

Curse you! Not a single case in his profession had left him this winded. Whatever you are, you’ve bewitched him. You’ve cursed him in perpetual yearning, casting him a spell that always seemed to put you out of his reach. Now, you’ve displayed your power over him, giggling at his dumbfounded face. You may as well have hexed his mind because your distance only attracted him more.

“Ba-bye, Hiromi!”

Witch.

Exhaustion has bounded your body to near fatigue. Every action you take accompanied a sigh, a testament to your depleted energy. Lurid night shifts were a nightmare came true for you— darkness shrouding your surroundings, while the emptiness of the lot drew you in between fright and boredom. Golfers weren't a common sight at this hour either, leaving you alone with your cart and some alcohol you stashed for yourself.

However, your job can’t do itself. After serving the last round of drinks to your clients, you started a lap around the course. Night shifts were boring, but lately, your entertainment lied on every replay your mind made of your date, leaving a lingering smile on your face.

As you hummed a melody, your mind roamed its memories. Your date with Higuruma and Nanami has left you constantly checking your messages, waiting for the seen status to change.

“Perhaps, I was too mean to him.” You muttered with a sigh, but your genius mind jolted your body awake, striking yourself a brilliant thought. Giddily, you parked your car to the side and hopped off. You opened your camera and started to position your body for a normal selfie, then shifted your camera slightly above you to get a better view of your chest. You’ve mastered all inappropriate angles to get a man shaking in longing. It was a bait that worked many times in your favor— the two men won’t be an exception to this, of course.

Bending forward, puckering your lips, even pushing your breasts. You’d let them know what they’ve been missing. But, the unsettling feeling of being watched returns. However, you were too late to turn and were instead, shockingly greeted by a familiar voice.

“Bending over out in the open? A girl like you really has no shame, hm?” The sudden question left you off guarded, shrieking from the terror of the unforeseen voice. You quickly spun around, ready to hit whoever dared to mess with you. However, you’re faced with Higuruma and Nanami with cocky grins on their faces.

“W-What are you guys— No, wait! Why were you guys watching me like a creep!” They ignored your complaints, stepping forward to corner you.

“Is that really the question that needs to be asked here, sweets?”

“More like, why is your ass out for the whole golf course to see?” Nanami joined in, taunting you with each step he took. “Is that your phone in your hand?”

“It’s perfectly normal to have my phone with me all the time!”

“Hm, it’s also normal for you to send these photos, right?” Then, Nanami whipped up his phone, its screen illuminated the very scandalous pictures you took. Your shock elicited a gasp, realizing your blundering fingers had accidentally sent them in some ridiculous manner.

“What— No! Ugh, whatever!” Overwhelming embarrassment enveloped your frame as you stepped away from the scene. However, confusion replaced your shame when their conversation continued.

“It’s pink.” Higuruma suddenly commented, “Of course it’s pink— It always is!” He followed it with a brazen chuckle while staring at your pictures, Nanami joining him soon when he realized. The ambiguity of their conversation has you glancing back, refraining your steps to fill in your curiosity.

“We might be going too far with this, Hiromi.” Nanami told him once he came to his senses, showing you a fraction of his pity. However, Hiromi’s meaner, and pent up from the few days he made no contact.

“Look at her, Kento. She’s not even leaving.” You’re humiliated once again by Higuruma. However, the indignity their words caused has you in this undeniable pull. Nanami caught your gaze, before you grumpily stomped back to your cart.

Higuruma walked to you, “Are you?” The air hung heavy with his unspoken desire, and suddenly, you felt your confidence climbing up once again. You remained still, wanting to see how far Higuruma he’d cross the line today.

“I mean…” You muttered. He exchanges a knowing look with Nanami before closing the proximity between you two. He let his fingers travel your arms first, before sliding them at your back, pulling you in closer.

Suddenly, Nanami’s unannounced hands join in, welcoming

itself to explore your body. Your heart pounded against your chest at their hunger as your knees buckled under the weight of their hunger.

“You’re right where we want you to be.” Higuruma remarked against your neck before nibbling your exposed skin. Their touches ignited every nerve in your body, firing it up with anticipation. Every small contact they made with your skin had you on the edge of surrendering yourself. And it was hard to retain your confidence when Higuruma and Nanami were hitching your skirt up.

Higruma groaned, “I'm always right, Kento.” Then, he pressed his finger against your clothed clit with such pressure. He intently watched your face, examining every little twitch your mouth makes as he dug his finger more.

“W-Wha—” Before you could finish, Nanami grabbed your chin, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. He kissed you like a depraved man, tongue welcoming itself inside your mouth. He drowned out the noises you made as Higuruma continued rubbing you through your pink panties.

“She’ll look even better naked.” Without second thoughts, he dropped to his knees and tugged your panties down.

“Fuckin’ beautiful.” He breathed out, before licking your pussy in long, wet stripes. Lapping on it and spreading his mouth all over your sex while he gripped the soft plush of your ass closer to his face, practically inviting you to ride him.

“Do it, angel.” With Nanami’s assurance, you hesitantly grinded your cunt on Higuruma’s face, making sure to hit the soft tip of his nose. It panged you with a profound need, like you’ve just hit the jackpot. His nose. It was perfect. So perfect, like it was molded to have your pussy grinding on it.

It felt good. It’s only his tongue and Nanami’s hands playing with your nipples but it feels so good. Each sway of your hips has you whining for more.

“H-Hiroooo—!” Higuruma hummed in response to your mewls, sucking on your clit with more passion, before bringing his lips all over. He was relentless. Not a single spot of your dripping pussy was left unkissed.

Nanami kissed your forehead, such a starching difference from his filthy praises. “Ride it. Come on, I knooow my girl can do it.” You steadied yourself against his chest, breathless and writhing under his hold.

“Feel good? Mhm, you wanna feel more?”

“Pleaseeee— I wanna!”

“Atta girl, just like that. Ride it like you want it— Fuck.”

Nanami attempted to soothe you with his soft words, murmuring sweet praises for enduring Higuruma’s tongue. But you couldn’t even form a coherent thought— let alone actual words.

“So so soo good! Hiro— please!” Every noise that left your mouth was incomplete, babbling on and on about Higuruma’s tongue while gripping onto Nanami for your life.

“You cummin’ angel? You wanna cum all over Hiromi’s face?” The pleasure was blinding. All you can do is quickly nod and whine for more.

“Yes! yes please, please!” But once those words came out, Higuruma stopped all his movements abruptly, baring your wet, pulsing cunt.

“A girl like you… has to earn it.” Higuruma says in between his breaths. He could feel his dick screaming at him to be free— to be inside you.

You whined at the loss of his sweet lips and turned to Nanami with pleading eyes to coddle you. He simply smiled and pecked your forehead. “Cruel. You’re going to make her cry.”

Then, Higuruma interrupted your little moment with him, “Im fucking hard, Kento. Give her to me.” His impatience was evident with how he forced you to your knees, leading your hands to the belt at his waist. He looked down at you, watching you comply as you unbuckled them.

After his belt, came his pants and boxers. The sight of his bare and hard cock made you stifle a moan, taken aback by his unexpected size and girth.

“Show me you earn it.” He commanded, and you swiftly abided. Your tongue made contact with his bulging tip, swirling it around and spreading his pre-cum all over, before opening your mouth and taking him whole.

It was such a stretch having him inside your mouth— a challenge for him either. He cursed himself, restraint faltering at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth surrounding his shaft. Your head was guided by Nanami's hold on your hair, making it much harder to control himself. The thought of you being guided by his best friend makes him so horny.

As you hollow your cheeks and slid your head in and out, Higuruma’s fingers found its way wrapped in your hair, together with Nanami’s. “C’mon, doll, you gotta suck Hiromi's cock better than that." Nanami buried your head further, showing no sympathy for your pitiful state.

Your hands twitched at your sides, hinting at them to give you just a fraction of their kindness. But respect is earned both ways. When you had wickedly played with their minds, you’d be treated with anything but respect.

“A-A girl like you— shit- needs t’ be taught.”

With ease, he unbuckled his belt and placed his thick and heavy cock on your empty palm. He offered no comfort at your side now. His light, velvety touches at your cheeks were long discarded, replaced with his tip that bumped your puffed cheeks.

“L-look at her filthy mouth, Kento."

"You think— ah, fuuuck. You think she can handle two cocks at the same time?"

Higuruma drilled into your skull with each thrust that he made on your mouth. His lengthy cock protruded again and again and violated your vulgar mouth. However, the two men were unsatisfied at only ruining your face.

His chest heaved, unruly groans drawn out from his throat as you sloppily lolled your tongue on his tip.

"Shit, just like that." Your eager cunt pulsed at his erotic words. Obscene noises hung in the air, mixed with Higuruma's curses and Nanami's stifled groans.

"Shh, I know I know, you need to be quiet, angel. You don't want us getting caught, right?"

"Not even a minute in and she's already struggling— pfft."

"Maybe a few more sessions like this and she'll last longer, yeah?" Pity was finally granted when Higuruma slipped his dick out.

But you should've known that a torturous man like Higuruma had other intentions. "P-please, please touch me— mph!" He silenced your pleads with his cock, chuckling darkly at your muffled cries. Their pleasure is derived from humiliating you. You know this. But it feels good. So good when they defiled you publicly with nothing but a beverage cart covering you.

"Eyes here, angel."

Your mouth worked wonders on Higuruma's dick, slurping his leaked juices as Nanami furiously fucked your palm. Soft and smaller hands wrapped itself on his shaft, the contrast to his hard cock sent him in a dizzying haze.

The lewdness of your cries, your chin covered in drool, and your doll-like eyes that silently begged for more— you truly were a slut for pleasing them both.

The arousal from fucking out in the open and your erotic moans vibrating on their dicks did the job. Their humiliation is gone as they ride out their high, pulling their cocks from your grasp and aiming right at your fucked out face.

"F-fuck, keep looking at us like that, angel."

High on the pleasure from your tongue, cum shot out of Higuruma’s dick, coating your face messily as more and more of his thick, creamy, seed haphazardly painted your face.

"Fuck! Yes, yes yes yes..."

"S-shit, 'm coming too." Nanami wasted no time in entering your mouth, pleasure bursting within him as your tight, hot, mouth sucked him on instinct.

Their sticky semen coated your mouth, drool mixed with Nanami's cum dripped to the ground below, struggling to swallow his massive load.

As much as Nanami wants to give you a breather, time is currently ticking, inching closer and closer to the end of your shift. It's also only a matter of time before a coworker notices your absence.

In one swift motion, Nanami pulled you up from the grass, bending you over the cart’s side seat.

"Wait—" But Nanami doesn't. Instead, he lined up his throbbing dick and steadily pushed himself inside your pussy.

Your eyes shot open at the sudden feeling. Pussy filled to the brim, and you can swear he's grown larger, thicker, compared to when you had him on your palm. Your pussy clenched around him deliciously, struggling to adjust to his size.

"F-fuck fuck fuck…" There was an agonizing pain in how he stuffed you. Once he started, his pace was torturously slow, savoring your fluttering walls.

"too good 't much!" Though every effort in flailing your body away from Kento's grasp was in vain. Higuruma surrounded you, a scowl on his face.

"Fuck, Hiromi. She's clenching me good."

"You're one greedy fucker, Kento."

"So fucking tight…”

He shushed you to be quiet, but his cock sliding in and out of you drew out sinful noises from your lips.

Nanami had spent countless of nights fucking his fists to you. How you'd sound like and how you'd feel like. Now, it was undeniably incomparable to the tight squeeze your pussy gave, and the high pitched moans you cried out.

"S-shut her u-up, 's too noisy,"

"Feel good! S-sir Kento—!" Your tears stained your cheeks, mixed with the drool escaping your puffy lips. Under his slamming hips, lay his cruel hand, that kept on rubbing your clit in tune with his thrusts.

"C’mon baby one more cock— so good so so good" Higuruma whispered, encouraging you to take his cock in your mouth again. "You take us so good sweets. You're the sweetest."

Your shaking frame struggled to keep up with their brutal pacing, legs so weak Nanami had to lift up your hips, putting you in that position where you could feel every single inch of his cock.

In their own corrupt way, it was their way of putting you in your place— serving punishment by ramming their hips and hollowing your tight, dripping cunt.

"Fuck… she's squeezing me- shit."

Nanami panted, eyes clenched shut and slamming himself harder and deeper— doing anything to chase that high.

"You close, sweets?" Higuruma grinned,"Kento's dick feels that good?” He taunted you, knowing you couldn’t reply with your mouth full of his dick. You closed your eyes and let them digged your holes, thrusts so persistent you were molding into their little fuck toy.

After a few more thrusts, his pace started to become unsteady, drawn out and returning to fucking you so slow and sensually. He was close, so fucking close. You're not done yet but he was already right over the edge. Curse you and your tight pussy.

But Nanami was no quitter. He held it in and waited for any sign that you're near your climax too.

"Fuck fuck fuck— don't stop!"

Just the sign he needed.

With a long breath, he slammed his hips into you with such force, knocking you right off your feet.

Plap plap plap

You were a mess; jaw wide open, whimpering and clinging unto Nanami's arm around your waist, eyes squeezed shut.

Nanami fucked you until you're dumb, unraveling every coherent thought you could muster; fucking you in a way it had you turning into a cock hungry slut.

"She's cumming."

Plap plap plap

He didn’t stop. He didn’t want to. He needed to see your throbbing and stretched out cunt squeezing him dry. He wasn’t stopping unless you had that fucked out look across your pretty face. God, he begged himself to hold out for much longer, wanting to see you take all his cum.

All his efforts were worth it. In the end, he had you screaming out a shrilling whimper, flailing your body as pleasure electrified your whole frame. Surges of blinding light cascaded you, then the rest is a blur. The only vivid feeling was his persistent cock.

"Good..." plap "fuckin'..." plap "girl..." plap

Gone was the control he prided himself on. He filled you with everything he had been holding back, pushing you further with every wave of pleasure that erupted within him. He emptied his balls, all its contents now leaking out of your weeping pussy.

"What a fuckin' mess..." Higuruma cackled, before lifting your limp semi-conscious self in his arms. Although he wanted his arms wrapped around you in a sweet embrace, a gratification for enduring them, he did made a promise to himself.

“My turn.”

It's going to be a long, long night.

tags : @packsvlog @honeynanamin @rrssrios @misscigarettes @shokosbunny @shamelessdonutkryptonite @i1uvc4ke @dongh9e @freakadelik @tomurafrlover23 @sad-darksoul @glader13 @that-redheadd @beantokki @a-hidden-gem @joonsanswers @erenspersonalsexdoll @s-1-xx @shxniq @ilovetengen @zianaz-slvtz @jwnzlvr @wifenanami @20kglex @oromaangel @jejejjekskwl @s4m4nth4wrld @jaeminsmilk @alpha-mommy69 @lobsteeer @blackphoenix0718 @wrldldo @nappingmoon @cindyneko-strider @yumiecheesecrackers @rattats-world @mirrorballkento

© jellicatty | no plagiarising please (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[sunglassesmish]

I’m a major buddie shipper, I didn’t ship bt that much (although I could accept that it was canon so I didn’t absolutely hate it if you gwim) and tbh Tommy wasn’t really a character that I was invested in. However I was genuinely so shocked when they broke up?? I was watching the episode and when Tommy went to the loft I was fully prepared for them to go on a date, especially with the way the scene began. Whilst I’m obviously not as sad as you or most bt shippers are, I was completely unprepared for them to break up, especially with the way it happens. I think the fact that I didn’t even ship them and even I’m disappointed with that scene really speaks volumes to the fact that the writing was just bad, there wasn’t much build up the breakup (except the basketball tickets, maybe Tommy not being part of the gc as a reach) and the episode before clearly showed their relationship was thriving, so I have no idea where the breakup came from at all 😭

and also Lou totally deserved better. I’m not really his biggest fan (that’s nothing against him at all, I just don’t really keep up with any actors that aren’t mains) but the fact that not a single person defended him is insane. The way people treat Buck’s LIs is mental and they all genuinely deserve sm better. I personally think that the cast need to get better at defending the people who have to go through this, or at least saying something so that people will stop.

sorry this is so long! I just wanted to say that I agree with yall that the writing for the breakup was just straight bad, and even I (a buddie shipper) am able to see that

thank you for your perspective! i get how people would not be so invested in lou or bucktommy or tommy, regardless of whether they ship buddie as well. so it’s nice to see someone else with more objectivity comment on how abrupt it seemed.

and the hate lou got for months was crazy. like genuinely so insane, people hated him so much and even lou said the worst thing that happened to him was that he got death threats but i’m ??? how is that not a worrying sentiment? that he got death threats for portraying a gay character in a mlm relationship. that people hated him so much to do things like that and much more. the online harassment to him was RELENTLESS.

he didn’t deserve any of that and neither did bucktommy. they didn’t deserve to be hated on so badly, regardless of whether people shipped buck with someone else. i’m gonna forever be bitter about it, and how the relationship ended.

[ivysprophecy]

slim pickins

warnings; bad date? mentions of sex, cursing underage drinking and yes i meant for it to be written poorly i was trying to keep the humor of the album in the writing

no pressure tags; @murdockcastleslut @kimoralov3 @arkofblake

word count; 1911

summary; youre tired of not finding a decent guy who will treat you right and lay you right. at least not one you've known since you were kids. however you just cant help yourself. besides its slim pickins out here you take what you can get.

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

i wanna make one thing clear, when i say there are no good guys left i do not wanna hear about you and your boyfriend of three years that can cook and loves your mom.

thats exactly what im talking about maddie!!! i dont give two fucks that he took you to barnes and noble and bought you every book you wanted.

they are all taken. its plain and simple.

which is why even with a full roster, im stuck taking fucking zander, yes with a z, to my friends' kegger.

i mean yea hes cute. hes tall, built but not that gross kind of muscly. but if were being real i shouldve known better when he was joking about being a male stripper when hes a ginger.

and i can tell kie is judging me, rightfully so. her side eye is lethal. when i introduced him to everyone she asked him about his greta van fleet tee and he said he didn't even know it was a band.

needless to say pope had to drag her away.

after that incident i decided it was best if we tried to talk away from the rest of the group. boy was i wrong.

"so what do you like to drink? ill go grab us something," i offer trying to start the conversation, also avoiding the usual problem with taking a drink from men.

"im good with whatever"

i like to think im not a violent person, but im about to be.

"does a beer sound okay?" i ask him grabbing a twisted tea for me from the cooler.

"sure thing." god why is he acting like such a bitch? i should ask him if he's on his period.

i hand him the can, our fingers brush and its my final clue for the night that i am definitely not going home with him. no spark at all. hes done just about everything else to piss me off.

he did the thing where he licks his lips exaggeratingly looking me up and down, making a point to make sure i saw.

he walks so slow for being 6'3.

and finally he tried to mansplain my career to me. i'd had just enough when he opens his mouth again

"ew, you like twisted tea? who likes sweet tea?" his face contorted in disgust, it was about to contort from my fist breaking his goddamn nose if he keeps talking to me like this.

"we literally live in the south dude." my face could not make it any clearer i am so done with this guy.

"still, sweet tea is disgusting. im not kissing anyone that drinks that nasty shit."

"who said i wanted to kiss your nasty fucking mou-" i was interrupted by the sound of a very familiar giggle behind me as his arm wrapped around my shoulder, the smell of his deodorant and sea salt that cover his skin start to put you at ease.

jj was always there when you needed him, sometimes even when you didnt but right now you couldn't be more grateful. "im glad you found those mama i got em just for you. remembered theyre your favorite. right?"

and you wanna know the best part? zander is shaking already pissed off that jj is at my side. territorial i guess.

"you mind?" he asks him nodding his head at me like im not even there.

jj cant help but laugh at him "yea bud i do mind. she's hanging out with me tonight. have fun with your ipa dick." and with that he steers us off to where the rest of the pogues are.

but not before i can look over my shoulder and give the ginger an innocent smile and a shrug as if i had no control over the situation, when really id pick jj over anyone else.

"you owe me a big fat kiss mama," jj whispers in my ear walking us over to where our friends are standing, drinks in their hands laughing and chatting up a storm.

"in your dreams honey."

"every night all night," he quips back before i shove him off me.

now before you give me shit, jj and i have had our fair share of fun, but unfortunately im starting to look for something more serious.

watching john b and sarah be disgusting together is getting to my head. popes got something going on with cleo and im starting to recognize the pattern. and before i know it everyone will be in love if i don't start making an effort in that department.

random casual hook ups aren't doing it anymore, especially considering they aren't even that good.

unless theyre with jj.

but hes not an option, theres too much drama. too much history. too much too much too much. im not what he needs and i know for a fact he doesn't want me in that sense.

is that a bit dramatic? probably.

i mean hes a great lay, he's hilarious, he's got that blue collar kind of muscle, and he genuinely cares about me.

so of course im not going to date him, why would i?

what do you mean make good decisions? id rather do things in the most difficult way possible!

"y/n youve gotta stop giving those guys a chance, im starting to feel bad for you."

"you try finding a decent guy in a ten mile radius." i glare at him, obviously not wanting to joke about this right now.

he sticks his hand out in front of me, "fine i will. let me see your phone."

curious to see what he will do i hand it too him unlocked, he swipes and taps for a few moments, smiling down at the phone before handing it back to you.

when you look back down at the screen all you see is your instagram open with his stupid fucking smiley face on the screen.

he took a picture of himself and posted to my story. written on the screen in bubble letters in my favorite colored heart 'my favorite guy <3'

"i think he's your best bet." that same smile facing back at me now, cockier than ever. so smug i wanna kiss it off his face

i cant help but roll my eyes. "jj im serious! at this rate im going to die alone. every decent guy is taken or unavailable. all i want is someone funny, kind, and attractive is that too much to ask for?"

"im right in front of you mama you dont gotta look far."

"jj we both know we're not the serious kind of relationship im talking about."

"you can think what you want too but ill be here waiting for that kiss you owe me."

"i think all that tequila youve been sipping has gone to your head maybank."

he stands in front of me, taking his signature red cap off his head and putting it on mine smiling down at me, "what do they say in those books you read? you wear the hat you ride the cowboy?"

"this no ten gallon hat and you are no cowboy."

we laugh at each other, its always been easier to do that then actually talk about our feelings. so i put his hat back on his head, backwards the way he i likes it.

"cmon y/n/n, have a few more drinks, relax and hang out and ill make you feel all better later yea? its what im best at, you know."

"its gonna take more than a few more teas to convince me jj"

"what about that thing you like that i do with my tongue, huh mama? doesnt that sound pretty good right now? i think it does."

"i give you one fucking compliment and it goes straight to your head."

"technically its about my head so that makes perfect sense," he hands me another can with that stupid signature smirk of his and his stupid sexy hat backwards. i hate to admit it's working on me.

just like it does every other time.

i squint my eyes at him taking the can, rolling the idea around in my head. "fuck it. its not like anyone else is offering," i take a big sip of my drink.

jj pumps his fist in the air like a victorious idiot giving a few woots and hollars before picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder despite my wishes.

"jb!!" he shouts turning around to face him, "we're headed out!"

john b looks at the two of us shaking his head at how im kicking my feet to wiggle out of jjs oddly strong grip. "make sure you change the sheets when youre done!"

oh my god he did not just say that. "fuck both of you!"

jj just laughs carrying you back to the chateau like a kid who's excited to use a brand new birthday present.

"what happened to letting me have a few more drinks before we left??"

"youre just too irresistable mama, gotta have you now,' he gives my ass a light slap for good measure causing me to roll my eyes for the 600th time tonight.

"are you gonna put me down now?"

he pretends to look like hes thinking about it, "i guess. only so i can watch you walk away," he does as he says helping me get my feet on the ground.

"youre a pervert."

"no im flirtatious, and you love it, you know it makes you blush i see it. now go on and give me a lil walk yea?"

oh im gonna kill him...

oh wait! im gonna kill him!

"okay... fine. but no touching until we get home," i smile walking away exactly like he asked, but i know behind me he is a puddle of mud. standing still, about to start begging me to let him.

he finally catches up after a few seconds "mama please- cmon thats not fair. you look too good in those shorts you know i cant wait that long. just wanna feel you."

i cant help but giggle at his words, its honestly adorable how mopey he gets. like i just kicked his puppy or something.

"hands of jj i mean it... not until that door shuts behind us."

it didn't really matter that i can see the chateau or that ill be there in literally a minute.

its actually painful for jj to not be able to touch me as he pleases.

i turn around to face him with a cheeky smile. "you want me maybank?"

and of course he nods so hard it looks like his head is going to fall right off.

"come and get me," running towards the house, i can see the moment when his reflexes kick in, his boots thudding against the ground as he gains on me.

just before i can make it to the poarch jj wraps his arms around me, lifting me a few inches off the ground and spinning me around in a fit of laughter.

"okay! okay okay okay you win- you got me."

"oh ive got you mama, and im havin you for the rest of the fucking night," he presses a kiss to my neck hauling me inside, the screen door slamming shut after us.

am i gonna regret this tomorrow? most likely.

but what can i say? its slim pickins in this part of town.

[ghsface]

I knew it, i know you... - Matt Sturniolo

Sumary: You return to a place in the past, where memories and guilt haunt you as you find your ex, facing what you could never let go of.

Warnings: angst, break up, insecurities (on the part of the protagonist) guilt, no happy ending, I think that's all.

A/n: This is my first time writing angst, I really enjoyed doing it so I'll probably start writing more angst, I hope you like it and tell me what you think, I was inspired by one of my favorite songs by Gracie I hope you like it. by the way I'm sorry if there's something wrong or that you don't understand, my first language is not English.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

That night, the restaurant's atmosphere was familiar and welcoming, full of memories you'd rather leave buried. You were there, surrounded by your friends, laughing, talking, and trying to forget that this was the place you always came to with Matt. From the moment you walked through the door, you tried to focus on anything but the memories, knowing full well that something as simple as a glance at the corner where you used to sit could shatter you.

You laughed, enjoyed the dessert, and pretended that the empty chair in front of you didn't remind you of him, of Matt, the love of your life. The one you'd let go because you believed you didn't deserve the happiness he gave you. You'd been so trapped in your insecurities, in doubts you didn't even know how to express, that the only escape you found was to end the relationship. "It's better this way," you told yourself. "It's the best for both of us." You kept repeating to yourself

As your friends began to gather their things and pay their bills, you knew the night was coming to an end and you couldn't help but feel a certain anxiety. They apologized for having to leave, and you smiled at them in an attempt at reassurance. "I'm fine, girls. Enjoy your night." And as soon as they left, you were left alone, wondering if you should also pay your bill and leave to avoid any chance of running into him.

But that was when you saw him. Or rather, you saw them. First it was Nick, who recognized you instantly and gave you a look that you pretended not to notice. He looked away, but you knew he had seen you. However, the illusion of being invisible crumbled when you looked up again and your eyes met Chris, who was now also watching you. You tried to concentrate on your dessert, as if you were suddenly on a mission to finish it as quickly as possible, while feeling the weight of their gazes.

Finally, it was Matt who looked at you. You knew it without even looking up. His presence was unmistakable, the same effect he had on you before, only now it was accompanied by a pang of pain and shame. His eyes were on you, but there was no such sparkle as before, that spark that once made you feel like the most important person in his world...

You sighed, putting the spoon aside and taking a break. You needed air. You calmly stood up and headed to the bathroom, forcing yourself not to turn around or look at him. As you walked, memories began to come back, and it was as if the bathroom became a portal to all those things you thought you had overcome. You closed your eyes and suddenly you were there again, on that first day.

Flashbacks...

It was summer, just another day in the park where you spent hours talking. Matt seemed anxious, and you, without knowing why, felt that nervousness reflected in you.

“I’ve been thinking…” Matt paused, staring at your intertwined hands, then looked up to meet yours. “I don’t want to think anymore. Just… will you be my girlfriend?”

A blush had crept up your face, and you were surprised by the intensity with which you had responded.

“Yeah. Of course I will, Matt.” A nervous laugh escaped your lips, and he hugged you, so tightly that it made you feel like you would never need anything else.

The memory changed, and suddenly you were in his living room, fighting in an impromptu pillow fight, laughing like never before, while Chris and Nick complained about the noise from the kitchen.

“Come on, Matt!” you yelled, throwing a pillow at him. “Is that all you got?”

“You think so? Start running babe,” he replied, his mischievous smile lighting up his face as he dodged another blow and lunged at you, trapping you in his arms. The warmth of his hands on your shoulders and the laughter you shared filled the room with an energy that only existed between the two of you.

But then, the memory quickly changed. It was him, frowning, looking at you with concern. “What’s wrong? Why are you so distant?” he asked you sweetly and with a hint of desperation. And you, instead of opening up, lowered your head and muttered a “It’s nothing” that tasted like a lie.

He asked you the same thing over and over again. “It hurts me to see you like this, but… I don’t know how to help you if you don’t tell me.” He said with pain in his voice

You couldn't give him an answer, and the frustration in his eyes became unbearable. He had always tried to be there, but you were sinking into a confusion and despair that you didn't know how to explain.

"Matt..." you had murmured, looking at him without words, knowing that every second of silence hurt more than anything else you could say. He took your hands, trying to comfort you, but the weight of your own thoughts was like a barrier you couldn't cross.

Despite his attempts, his tenderness, his patience, you sank into your own insecurities, building a wall that he never managed to tear down.

The last day you saw him, the day everything broke, was engraved in your memory like an open wound. He was standing in front of you, his eyes full of pain, but you stood firm.

"I can't keep doing this to you," you had said, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. He stayed silent, as if those words were a blow to his stomach.

“Really? That easy for you?” he said, and his voice was a mix of disbelief and sadness.

You distanced yourself from him, unable to bear the pain you caused, but you knew you couldn’t keep dragging him down with you. You couldn’t keep making him suffer for something you didn’t even know how to explain.

“Yes, Matt. I’m sorry, but I have to,” you said, and as he remained silent, you let him go.

Then, the inevitable. You ignored his calls, his texts, and not just his, but also those from Chris and Nick, your best friends. You didn’t want to face them, what you had done, the guilt you felt. You chose silence as a refuge, despite knowing how much it hurt them.

End of flashbacks…

You took a deep breath, opening your eyes, trying to stifle the memories. You left the bathroom and, just as you tried to go back to your table, you heard Nick’s voice calling you.

“Hey! It’s you!”

You turned around, feigning forced surprise. “Oh, Nick! Hi!”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Chris said, joining the conversation, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. But there was an intensity in his words that made you hesitate.

“Yeah, well… coincidence, I guess,” you replied, laughing nervously. You avoided looking at Matt, who was silent, staring at his glass as if it were the only thing in the world.

Nick smiled at you, approaching you with that warmth you had always appreciated in him. “How have you been?” Chris asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Fine, just… living life, I guess,” I replied, the words coming out almost without thinking.

Matt was still sitting in his chair, making no move to talk to you. You felt the weight of his indifference, and an unbearable guilt enveloped you. How could you do this to him? How could you leave without giving him a chance to understand?

You began to chat casually, as if it were a reunion between old friends and not a constant reminder of unhealed wounds. You felt the topic everyone wanted to avoid was obvious.

Matt, however, remained silent, barely looking at you. You knew he was aware of your presence, but he didn't say a word to you. Guilt weighed on your chest, every second intensifying the pain you had tried to bury.

After a while, the atmosphere began to become uncomfortable. You smiled at them and excused yourself, trying to escape from that place that seemed to collapse on you, knowing that it was time to leave. You walked to the cashier, paid your bill, and before leaving, you turned to look at them one last time.

There was Matt, with those eyes that always seemed capable of seeing beyond your words. In that look, full of sadness and nostalgia, you understood that the wound would never completely heal. Those eyes that loved you, that once were everything to you, were now filled with a sadness that you could never erase.

You knew that you would never forgive yourself for what you had done, you would never forgive yourself for what you did, but deep down, you knew that maybe you couldn't have done it any other way, you had done it for him, for yourself. Still, the pain was still there, like a constant echo. And when you left, a part of you was left behind, lost in the memory of what could have been.

You'll never be able to let Matt go. And maybe, he won't either.

You left the restaurant, taking with you the echo of their glances, the memories, and the weight of a story that, one way or another, would always remain unfinished.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮

Tags... @matthewsroses @dominicfikeenthusiast @louipartridge @sophand4n4 @bsturnzmtt <3

[realchemistry]

Breaking down all the Buddie from "Confessions"

Did I write a photo review with over 5000 words dissecting the episode? Yeah, I did... Hope y'all enjoy!

Gonna ignore the first call because other than the bad mustache CGI/shots where it's not even there, there wasn't anything of substance. I wonder if they used that old call cause they had to fill up time, were short on budget, something else fell through or what happened.

So let's move to Eddie going to church. After 23 or so years he felt the need to confess his sins. But after an explanation of the crazy stuff that went down with Kim, including mentioning how Eddie lied to his son, his best friend and his girlfriend, he concluded he's not deserving of forgiveness and fled. The priest looked conflicted and that's supposed to be that.

Eddie, catholic guilt and all, went to church to confess. It's like the most desperate measure, I imagine, but desperate times... He gave the priest his name. Interesting. I got so emotional when he described Chris and talked about his optimism. Lying to Buck was pretty much at the top of the list, huh? Like, Eddie knew how bad he was behaving because their relationship's made up of truths. His talk in the kitchen with Buck was actually instrumental to him seeing how wrong all of it was. They need to be married immediately. The fact that one of the prayers (?) Eddie was meant to repent with was called "Our Fathers" was also interesting because it's coming from a priest or father but also, more obviously, Eddie's got a million daddy issues. Ramón traumatized him and Eddie said he traumatized Chris and Chris ended up going to Texas to live with Eddie's father.

The Buck and T date scene was super interesting for many, many reasons:

Buck thought he had the upper hand, saying he'd pay for dinner and trying to get T to guess the reason behind it.

T already knew it's their anniversary, which Buck clearly didn't expect.

T didn't just know, he actually brought Buck a gift for the occasion.

Interestingly enough, last season we learned that Buck didn't like basketball in the episode in which his jealousy and Eddie and T and him being bisexual happened.

T, after SIX months of dating the man, somehow didn't know that and gifted Buck tickets to see the Lakers.

For some odd reasons, T told Buck he didn't even have to take him to the game, "Take Eddie if you want," he suggested.

Buck looked confused but not exactly averse to that idea and asked, "really?"

And then T went, "and die" and then Buck replied, "okay, that sounds right."

Now, let's go through all that. It's their anniversary, they're out for dinner, and they apparently had a good time and then it's like they're completely out of sync. Buck wanted to pay for dinner to commemorate their anniversary, thinking T had missed it, whereas not only did T not miss it but he also bought him a present. Problem was said present wasn't something Buck actually cared for, which T seemed unaware of. The joke about taking Eddie... Why even suggest that? Was that a test? Did Buck fail it by wondering if that was really a possibility?

Then the woman interrupted the date and asked for a picture, with some unnecessary touching involved. I truly didn't get why Buck grabbed his own phone to take the pics... Was this second nature to him? A practical way to have an excuse to ask for the woman's phone number to send the pics? She wondered this and Buck denied it but there's literally no other reason to do that. T looked at the whole thing amusedly. Buck took the pics and went back to the table, expressing how weird that was.

Was that weird? I'm honestly so confused by that scene, like... people ask strangers to take their pics all the time. Yes, some of those might be an excuse to flirt but they're at a restaurant, which isn't exactly the greatest place to be trying to pick up someone. Also, Buck made it weird with the whole using his phone thing. Even if the woman was flirting, which she seemed to be, it didn't have to be made into anything. We can assume from this that Buck is uncomfortable being flirted at in front of T but he might also not feel great about feeling attracted to somebody other than his boyfriend who's right there to see it all.

Here's where it actually got weirder. T acknowledged the fact that it's okay to look and then Buck remarked that T didn't do that. T explained he's gay by saying he's a Kinsey 6. Buck, for some reasons, didn't pick on the meaning of that so T had to explain it. That's just... I call bullshit on that. Buck, recently bisexual, lover of research and internet deep dives would know ALL about it. This scene, I gotta say, felt super wonky. At points it was meant to but at others, like this one, it just... felt off. There's also the fact that Oliver and L have zero chemistry...

Anyway, back to the date. So T didn't know that Buck disliked basketball and Buck didn't know that T was gay? After SIX months of being together? What in the hell? Why were they only talking about that at this point? I don't think full disclosure or knowing your partner's history is a must at all, but considering Buck's curiosity and the fact that he was newly out, I figured all these subjects would've part of the first conversations between them. I'm not sure what to think. Was the writing completely off? Were they unable to come up with a better excuse to bring about the past partners talk and resorted to this? It's baffling. And since it's canon, whatever the reason, I found that the whole date showcased how little they actually knew about each other, which could only be a bad sign of the things to come for their relationship.

Of course, after that comment, T revealed he was engaged to a woman and called it off. Once again, the dialogue... T saying the woman went "nuts" after their break up, taking up some "himbo" half her age... Buck figured she was just trying to get over T, and then he mentioned the name of the woman. Of course it was Abby. Of course. Buck was literally having a crisis there, but the waiter showed up and asked how everything was. T, completely out of tune with what Buck was clearly trying to process, said it was "perfect." The waiter asked if he could get them anything else and T said "no, I think we're good." Buck looked so the opposite of good. Then the waiter wondered "who gets the damage" and, at last, a flawless piece of dialogue with T pointing at Buck and saying "That would be him." Buck was handed the check and the waiter told him, "whenever you're ready, no rush" and left while Buck looked like he was having a heart attack.

So, yeah, the date was a complete disaster. It's a mix between the actors not clicking, the dialogue serving the plot instead of Buck as a character (and Abby and even the show) and finally the actual plot dictating that it had to be a disaster. Honestly, the moment this bit ended, I knew they were going to be done.

Next, Buck went to dispatch to talk to Maddie. Why didn't he talk this through with Eddie, Hen and Chim? Curious... Maddie wondering how many men Abby had turned gay was hilarious. But I can't believe they didn't squeeze in the fact that Buck's bi there. They didn't do it during the date, though it was implicit, but here they had the perfect opportunity since they hadn't done it before. It would've taken a second for Buck to correct Maddie. Again, the writing this episode was all over the place, specially cause Buck looked at Maddie offended and Maddie clarified she was joking but then Buck sorta explained himself and T... anyways. Josh showed up then, and something was totally off with the actor's hair btw, I couldn't focus for a second there.

Josh eavesdropped and caught the kissing a boy part and eagerly asked if there was another boy... Buck was quick to deny that. Well, there's Eddie... Maddie and Buck explained the whole situation and Josh apparently knew her but they weren't close. And then, again, this whole thing just didn't make sense. Buck remarked that T led her on, said he loved her and then hurt her. Maddie thought Buck was afraid T would do that to Buck but Buck denied this and said, "I thought I knew him" and that he didn't think T would be capable of being dishonest and cruel.

Let me rewind for a second. Why was Buck under the impression that he knew T? Buck didn't even know T was gay... Also, didn't Buck know about T's past? He was worse than cruel to Hen and Chim... Truly, was he not told about all of that? I just, the use of the world cruel here... don't get me wrong, leading someone on is cruel but the whole being gay and repressing it part, while not excusing it, would at least explain T's actions. But the way he acted towards Chim and Hen... that had nothing to do with self-repression. It just didn't. I need someone to explain to me in detail how come Buck was deluded to think he knew T when at this point I'd be shocked to learn he knew T's last name.

Then the Josh speech happened. I wasn't happy with it at all. First of all, what's Buck loving him to do with any of it? If T was a cruel person, then Buck loving him wouldn't justify any of what he did to Abby. Buck looked super not in love as an answer, which was hilarious to me because of course he didn't love T, he didn't know the man!!! Josh backtracked from that word and asked a series of questions aimed at... gauging how much Buck cared for T? IDEK, it was all pretty ridiculous from the start. Also, first two questions made sense for Buck to answer affirmatively but T was literally such a plot device that there hadn't been a single instance in which Buck had shown that he was thinking about T or making T's concerns and happiness his own. These things, though, get positive answers in canon as far as Buddie is concerned. The future question was interesting because Buck's answer was "I could." It's never a definitive answer, it's another instance of "I guess" from the time T echoed "my attention?" when they first kissed. It's like Buck was convincing himself then. Josh took that to advice Buck to stop judging T because Buck didn't know what he was talking about.

The speech went into pre and post Glee world and all that nonsense. I truly hate a lot of things this episode chose to be. Was mentioning a Ryan Murphy show in a RM show a necessity? I don't wanna get into what Glee did or didn't do for the queer world, the point here is actually moot because T and Abby weren't a thing before Glee. Again, whatever experience with coming out T and Josh had, it had nothing to do with what Buck was asking. Buck was worried about the side of T he claimed not to know and how cruel he could be. I think the way T referred to her and the situation was also pretty awful, in the present tense. Even if one thought T was protecting himself by being with Abby, there is still room for judgement. We have Hen and Karen, in this same show, not being cruel to anyone, for one. Also, T didn't fight a single battle. He treated his coworker who was out like scum and was racist towards Chim. T wasn't an activist fighting for his life and his rights, he was just a bad person all around as far as we know. He had no scars to show. We can pretend he had an internal battle, maybe a family issue with his coming out but there's nothing to honor him for.

I cannot believe this show did that speech so awfully and pretended it was the greatest thing since Jack Shephard's "live together, die alone." Truly, they thought they had done a brilliant job and it's utter bullshit throughout.

Moving on, Eddie went to get juice... but then he changed his mind and got water instead. Who's there to witness that but Father Brian. Eddie's outside, drinking his water looking gloomy about it when Brian asked him of he could take a seat. Eddie allowed him to and for some reason, as Brian was sitting down, looked around. Brian told Eddie about being there for the first time, as if compelled, and then asked Eddie if he went there often. Eddie immediately assumed he was being hit on. Now, whether this is indicative of Eddie being hit on a lot or he just took those words as the line they sometimes can be and interpreted it that way, I hope we'll find out soon. Either way, Eddie told Brian "no offense, I'm straight." The lady doth protest... Hilariously enough, Brian's answer wasn't "me too" or "I'm not interested" but "I'm celibate". Eddie took that in and then Brian introduced himself and revealed that he knew Eddie. Eddie was processing that and the Father part, his hand still in the air.

Brian mentioned that he noticed that Eddie chose the juice initially and then got the water instead. He asked Eddie why he did that and Eddie kinda asked "decided I wanted water?" Brian posed that Eddie was punishing himself, denying himself because Eddie didn't feel worthy. Eddie sighed and, "I don't feel worty of juice?" Brian went straight (haha) to the point, "Of joy." Eddie chuckled and looked around and spoke in a low voice as he said he didn't have a lot to be joyful about because Brian was bringing up something Eddie had confessed to him in public. Eddie's well aware he's in public... Brian started listing the things that Eddie had, Chris, his parents, his job and his mustache. Eddie was kinda not happy but that last one got him laughing and blushing. He then confessed that he grew the mustache because he couldn't grow a full beard due to the LAFD. Brian concluded the mustache was a disguise and Eddie said it was something like that. Brian asked what Eddie's afraid of seeing in the mirror and Eddie said, "A failure. A man who doesn't deserve forgiveness. Or joy." Brian said that's now what go wanted for Eddie, that he'd already forgiven him. Eddie repeated that he doesn't deserve that and uncapped the bottle to take a sip of the water. Brian told him to earn it, and to stop punishing himself in the meantime. He remarked that Eddie spent his life in service and he understood that but they couldn't take care of others if they didn't take care of themselves. Eddie smiled and said he understood and Brian told him that after praying, he wanted Eddie to do something frivolous, something fun, something that expressed pure joy. Eddie told him he'd think about it.

The Eddie scenes were clearly written by someone else because they were all pretty on point. We had Eddie conflicted, and while it could just be him preferring water (the alternative is truly devastating to me so I want to believe Eddie isn't punishing himself through food), Brian decided to go with it to get Eddie to reflect about what he was doing to himself and it worked. Eddie didn't run away like he did in church but Eddie was shown to be aware of his surroundings, so the fact that he claimed to be straight with all of his chest... Why did he do that? Why did he think he was being hit on in the first place? Why was that moment necessary within this scene? Was juice really a representation of joy? Was joy a metaphor for something else? What were tptb trying to show or say here? Would a heterosexual character need to affirm himself as such? Would a repressed one? Thoughts, so many thoughts!!!!

The well emergency happened and it wasn't about Eddie, but it was interesting cause they seem to be doing Greatest Hits for some reason... Now I gotta ask, wouldn't Eddie, as a medic, know that getting the kid oxygen wouldn't work? Why was Hen explaining that to him? Honestly, the writing this episode... Buck's first idea was to dig... funny. Eddie said someone had to get down there and Bobby told him he wasn't gonna fit this time. Interesting. Bobby announced they would pull the big brother out after two minutes no matter what, specifically addressing Buck and Eddie. Interesting.

So it wasn't about Eddie because it wasn't the same Eddie. The pipe was smaller and Eddie didn't fit. But Eddie also didn't fit himself. He disguised himself with a mustache to avoid looking at his face in the mirror because he felt like a failure. He was shown in an episode entitled "Masks" at home taking down Halloween decorations all on his own. Bobby made sure that both Buck and Eddie knew the clock was ticking and they had to abide by it this time. Unlike Eddie's well, when Eddie cut the line and Hen refused to have Buck look for him because they'd end up with two cut lines. No more lines being cut? No more alternative ways to escape? Maybe I'm reading way too much but the camera did show Buck and Eddie's reaction as Bobby singled them out.

Back at the loft, T said he had a spot right out front and they should Uber to the movie so he didn't lose it. That phrasing... Buck agreed but asked to talk first. T replied positively, "we got time." Again, funny way to put it. They were both going to the movies so why was T the one who was going to lose it if they didn't get the Uber? You know who actually got an Uber with Buck recently, right? Also, "we got time".... famous last words. He'd just said they didn't have time but then said they did and, well, as it turned out, they didn't.

They sat down around the island and Buck brought up the story at the restaurant that T shared with him about how he "almost got engaged." This was odd and T corrected Buck, "I did get engaged. What I didn't do is get married." Buck said he appreciated T's honesty and that he wanted to be honest with him. T knew this spelled trouble and Buck denied it before taking out his phone and passing it over to show T pictures of Buck and Abby. T was surprised at first but then he scrolled to a pic of Buck and Abby kissing. Buck announced he was the himbo. T agreed it was crazy, after Buck put it like that, but added it was a little awkward. Buck decided to go closer and said it was like that for him as well at first, and that he should had been honest at dinner, but T asked or gathered that it had freaked him out a little. Buck said yes to this and T explained that if he had known, he wouldn't had used the word himbo because he didn't think Buck's one. Buck claimed that he was, at least before Abby, because what they had wasn't that, not for him. Buck said it was the most transformative relationship of his life until then. Buck said one of the reasons he's comfortable with T was that T's comfortable with himself. T said he wasn't always that way and Buck said he's aware and it made him admire T more. And then dropped the bomb, saying he wanted T to move in with him. WHAT?

No, really, WHAT? Buck really got deranged thoughts cause why on Earth would he ask T to move in? They clearly didn't know each other, they didn't love each other either, so explain how this made sense?? I'm hoping that it's a case of tptb purposefully having Buck spiral and go from zero to a hundred. There's also parallels between this and Eddie and Marisol, with Buck and Eddie asking their partners to move in when their relationships were clearly not at that stage.

T's reaction to Buck's words was crystal. While Buck said he was ready to take the next step and then, for entirely insane reasons, made it clear that he wasn't proposing marriage and or an engagement, though that'd be a possibility thanks to the brave people that came before like T. WHAT? Really, no, I'm so serious. I fucking cannot with this dialogue. Moving in, the suggestion, was bad enough, but bringing up marriage? Attributing the fact that they had that right thanks to people like T? SERIOUSLY? This was atrocious. I know Oliver was thinking of his bank account while delivering those lines because they were as non sensical as they could get.

"Why be apart when we can be together?" Buck finally asked. T said that's sweet but he couldn't move in. Buck wondered the why and T answered, "Because... I know how this ends." And my heart literally stopped or skipped a beat or something. I legit thought he was gonna bring up Eddie or a hint and, well, he kinda did, though not directly.

Buck asked what that meant and T explained. He mentioned Buck's qualities but then said that Buck's feelings were new and so it was all exciting and it felt like forever but he's still figuring himself out, which was good. Buck asked what he was saying and T said that no matter how bad he wanted to be, he wasn't his last but his first. Buck interjected that they could be the same but T said they usually weren't. If he were to move in, Buck wouldn't mean to but he'd end up breaking T's heart and he didn't think he could deal with that. He got up to leave, saying he should go and Buck told him to wait and asked him if he had just broken up with him, to which T replied, "yes, I guess I did. Believe me, I didn't see it coming either. Should've known that parking spot was too good to be true. I'll see you around, Buck."

At last, free! But while the beginning of the conversation was terrible, it ended on a high note. There's a lot of questions, like: according to what he said, T knew there wasn't a future between them. So I'm guessing here that after six months, they hadn't actually discussed that because Buck was clearly on a different page. T knew they weren't long term while Buck was thinking of moving together and being together for good. Make it make sense, how were these two dating not knowing anything about each other and not discussing basic relationship stuff??? T knew that Buck had to figure himself out yet he was still with him hoping it'd be casual without actually talking about it??? Yet he later claimed he didn't see a break up coming and he could see his heart being broken?

Now, my shipper heart wants to believe the between-the-lines reading of this scene had Eddie written all over. Eddie is how it'll end... And the fact that T's answer to Buck's question contained the "guess" this time around, mirroring Buck's response to "my attention"... INTERESTING. It was all a guessing game between BT, It's also the first time he called Buck by his name, which was the first and probably last because we're not gonna see him ever again. I was glad Buck asked if they were done because we all know he got confused about it with Abby... So long, T, you will not be missed. Buck's loft door opened and later on, another did...

Finally, we had Eddie. My boy. Looking at himself in the mirror and getting rid of his disguise.

And then... I literally felt so many things at once, y'all! The music, the shot... I couldn't believe it was about to happen. And then the mole made an appearance and Eddie was wearing pink and tighty whities and I swear I couldn't. I just, even rewatching to write this... I love him so much!!!!!!!!!! I was so happy to see Eddie letting go of his disguise and allowing himself to have that joy. The fact that Ryan looked like that... I was fighting for my life the whole time, NEGL.

I kept thinking Buck was going to show up midway. I was truly bracing myself for it. But the doorbell rang. Eddie looked through the peephole. Buck was there. Eddie opened the door, nodded at him and Buck gave him a beer as an answer to an unasked question and got in. Eddie closed the door and looked at the beer, at Buck and at the beer again. He made a face and then climbed the sofa. Buck was already drinking when the camera panned to him. Eddie opened his beer and drank from it. Scene.

LISTEN. I was unhinged already because they had Ryan dancing like that. But then the final scene happened and I just... I don't know how I'll survive what I hope it's to come.

Let's break that one down:

Eddie decided to follow Brian's words. Eddie didn't forgive himself but he decided to stop punishing and disguising himself in the meantime.

The way Eddie looked at himself in the mirror, both before and after he shaved off his mustache... My heart!!!

Eddie allowed himself to do something frivolous, something fun, something that expressed pure joy. The fact that he chose to dance half naked around his house... that's very babygirl of him, and I don't say this lightly.

The pink... the moves like the ones from the bachelor party... I felt crazy.

I kept waiting for Buck to show up, like my mind was half insane at what I was seeing and half insane at the possibility of Buck seeing it as well.

The doorbell rang instead.

Why didn't Buck use his keys?

It was the perfect opportunity for Eddie to put on some pants. Eddie didn't do that… Neither before or after looking who it was.

But, really, why didn't Buck use his keys? WHY????????

Was it to hammer the fact that Eddie was comfortable opening up his door to Buck while not wearing pants?

Was it so Eddie could see him standing on the other side of the door, mimicking Brian's view of Eddie in the confessionary? Will there be something for Buck to confess in the future? To Eddie specifically???

Buck wasn't looking at Eddie when Eddie saw him behind the door, btw...

Eddie opened his door and they looked at each other and said not a word but understood each other perfectly.

I truly hate the continuity error with the shirt collar. It's gonna hunt me forever.

Buck made himself at home while Eddie considered the beer.

Remember how Eddie's choices were water or juice? Well, what about a third secret option? BEER. Buck's beer, in fact. INTERESTING.

I went nuts and will continue to go nuts at Eddie climbing the sofa. Whose choice was that? I need to know. It was so freaking cute!!!

The camera went steady and Buck was already drinking from his bottle. Eddie, on the other hand, uncapped the bottle like he did with the water, and the shot ended as he drank the beer.

The contrast in the colors of their clothes… the fact that Eddie was looking to the side while Buck was looking ahead.

Was all of this symbolic of the fact that Buck already figured his sexuality out while Eddie's just starting? I'd like to think so.

Was it symbolic of Buck reaching conclusions he'd later have to confess to Eddie before Eddie arrives to those same conclusions himself? I'd also like this very much.

Now, the episode was called "Confessions" and Buck and Eddie didn't speak to each other. Not a single word. Even in that last scene, the only one in which they actually interacted, they didn't use words to communicate.

I see this lack of dialogue between Buck and Eddie in two ways:

First, it could show how good a relationship Buck and Eddie have in order to not utter a sound and still get each other completely. Regardless of all the issues I had with the writing, I can safely say that Buck and T were the complete opposite and lacked communication all around. The space and lack thereof reflected this too. Buck and Eddie know each other so well and Buck went directly to sit down on the couch, waiting for Eddie. Eddie followed right behind. BT, though... Buck stepped away from their table and the whole conflict with T's dating history started. Buck sat very far from T at the loft and only got close to be broken up with. Incredibly enough, that final shot with Buck and Eddie sitting together at Eddie's couch was the first that ever happened... Maybe that's foreshadowing something else, like couch theory related stuff? I never really spiraled about it before but I might soon.

Second, it could indicate there's something Buck and Eddie aren't saying to each other. They didn't speak to each other because they can't -- they're not ready or aware that there is something to confess. They remained silent because it isn't time yet but if they were to confess something, it would be impossible to take back. It would change everything. It will.

This is a legit insane post. When I say they're driving me nuts, I mean it and this is proof. Even though it's the longest ever, I probably forgot stuff that I might add tomorrow.

Now please share your thoughts on the episode and Buddie and everything so I don't feel alone in my madness. <3

[megamindsecretlair]

To those who don't know, I took a mini break this week. The election really got to me, more than I thought it would, and I was taking spiritual damage from the world collectively grieving. I haven't mastered blocking that shit out 🤣

Between my call center job, my family, and everything else in my life, my brain went on a hard chill. Im doing what I need to survive. Which is staying the hell off my phone.

And yknow what, it has really helped. My emotions are starting to level out now that I can pick out what's actually mine.

Maybe I'll update this week, maybe I still need to chill, who knows.

Rest is important yall 😗😗😗

And as a friendly reminder, demanding pt 2 to any of my works is the opposite of motivation yall think it is. Especially if it's your first time commenting. You may be new to my blog, and if so, welcome 😗 but while it's hard to infer tone, my sensitive ass interprets it as youre not really appreciating the work. I'm not a machine. It seems like I'm cranking these out and im not. It takes a huge emotional toll to write these fics. And I aint had it this week.

Do you have to comment and reblog to enjoy my work? No. I will never ask you to do something you're too shy to do. I juss want folks to have fun on my blog. But I promise, telling me what you liked about the fic will 200% motivate me to write more.

This isn't directed at anyone. Juss a heads up for the new folks.

[emeritusemeritus]

hello! absolutely love your writing and so happy to find someone who likes the weasley twins too! :D if it’s not too much trouble, i’d like to request a little drabble with fred where the reader adopts a ginger cat and fred finds it funny? thank you! <3

Hi Anon! Thank you so much, we are all definitely Weasley Twin lovers over here! It’s my pleasure, this was really fun to write 😂 hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: minor sexual references, brief talk of curses, fluff and humour, a million ginger jokes, mentions of future kids.

Word count: 1.1k

Ginger Root

"Hey baby," Fred shouts out as he steps through the door to the flat above the shop on his lunch break, instantly loosening his tie and popping open the top shirt button that was slowly choking him.

He briefly waits for you to reply but hears nothing, so he goes looking for you. He's hoping that you'd made him something to eat for his dinner, though of course he didn't expect it if you. The shop had been ridiculously busy this last week and the thought of having to stand and make something to eat in his break hour seemed too far of a stretch for him. He's also hoping for a cuddle, needing to feel you back in his arms for a little while whilst he can, and even more hopefully he wonders if he can convince you to cuddle naked, horizontally on the bed.

He freezes upon walking into the living room, seeing a single ginger cat sat proudly on his sofa. It's comical almost how he freezes at seeing the seemingly harmless cat, looking around the empty flat as if there's an audience waiting for his reaction that he was being pranked.

He walks slowly over to the cat, approaching it with as much caution as he would a hippogriff, squatting down beside the content kitty that barely flicks it's eyes over to the intruder, sitting pride of place in Fred's usual spot.

"Okay," Fred says seriously to the cat, their faces only inches apart as he gives the kitty a questioning look, attempting to level with the feline. "You've either been cursed or you've never told me you were an animagus in the, what, 10 years we've been together?" He waits a moment for any feedback from the cat but hears nothing.

"Give me a little meow if you've been cursed and I'll fix it right away."

"Meow."

You laugh as Fred jumps at your sudden noise, falling back onto his haunches after losing his balance in surprise, arms scrambling to stop himself and failing miserable, which only adds to the hilarity of the situation.

"Godric woman," he grumbles, mock-clutching his heart as he gets up using the coffee table as leverage. He looks towards you and you smile widely seeing his heated cheeks, the look in his eyes devilish as he seeks revenge, especially as he eyes what you're wearing.

You're leaning on the doorframe, wrapped in a fluffy white towel fresh from the shower and enjoying every second of seeing Fred recover from your unplanned prank. His eyes are focused on your towel, the little tuck hidden within the slope of your breasts and the smirk on his face looks almost dangerous as you try and figure out his next move.

"But your lunch!" You squeal as he lunges as you, lips first attacking your neck.

"It can wait," he mumbles, finding his roaring appetite for food suddenly replaced by something else.

"So you found him, or her?"

"Him... I think," you say, pulling a fresh Tshirt on as Fred buttons up his shirt, leaving the tie off for now.

"He was shivering in a box next to the leaky cauldron... I couldn't leave him there Freddie." You hoped Fred wouldn't be mad, that he'd understand your desperate need to rescue the poor little kitty.

"I know sweetheart," he says with a small smile, eyes gentle with understanding.

You walk ahead of Fred as you both made your way back to the living room, pausing briefly to scratch the little sleepy cat on the sofa before you stepped into the kitchen to pull yours and Fred's pre-made lunch out of the fridge. He kisses you as a way of thanks as you both take a seat on the unoccupied sofa and eat the lunch you'd prepared earlier.

"Have you named him yet?" Fred says, taking a massive bite out of his sandwich, hardly able to talk with his mouth full of food. You pull a face of disgust for a moment at his lack of eating etiquette but drop it once you look upon the cute cat app curled up on the other sofa.

"Not yet, still thinking of options," you say, mentally running through the admittedly short list of monikers you'd come up with on the way home.

"Well with that hair he's definitely a Weasley," Fred beams, "very on brand."

"Think your mum will knit him a jumper for Christmas? Or a little scarf?" You joke, earning a snort of laughter from your boyfriend as his delighted face takes another large bite, thankfully not speaking through this one.

"What shall we name you little Weasley?" You say, looking upon your new friend.

"Well it can't be George, s'got two ears," Fred mumbles through a devilish smirk.

"Fred!" You say, scandalised by his words, though you can hardly contain your chuckle that follows only moments later.

"What about Minerva?" You can, casting your eyes towards Fred to watch his reaction, seeing him nearly choke on the last bite of his sandwich at your suggestion.

"Marmalade? Keeping with the ginger theme."

"Garfield?"

"Eh?" Fred frowns, missing the joke entirely.

"It's a muggle thing.. oh! Thomas O'Malley!"

Again Fred gives you a bewildered stare that makes a giggle slip out of you.

"Muggle film, the ginger cat. We could name him after him!  Abraham Delacey Giuseppi Casey Thomas o malley... Weasley."

"Or we could not," Fred says blankly.

"Ron?" You ask, trying to glance at the cat's face to see what else would spring to mind.

"No, it's too clean," Fred jokes, nodding his head towards the cat.

"Squash? Cheddar? Pumpkin?"

"Stop naming food!" Fred calls out with a laugh before he pauses, clearly thinking. "Wait I like pumpkin! Pumpkin Weasley?"

"Our first child," you joke, throwing your legs over his as you lean back on the sofa. You knew he'd have to be going back to work soon so you'd take what you could get.

"Great we can name our children after root vegetables," Fred says with a mock roll of his eyes, big hands coming up to stroke your legs as he pulls them deeper into his lap.

"Ginger's a root vegetable, they'd fit right in," you beam, looking at your boyfriend's fiery locks, secretly hoping that whatever children you'd have would share this certain characteristic.

"Oh yeah! Meet the twins, parsnip and turnip," he jests, laughing as your eyes widen in horror at his words, knowing that it would be just your luck to get your own mini version of George and Fred.

"Who said anything about twins?!"

"Maybe we'll just stick with the cat then," he smirks, joining your gaze towards your new best friend, realising that it might not be a bad thing after all to expand your family.

"We'll start with Pumpkin."

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

The angst was so real (in the best way)! 😭

She does, she's just afraid to admit it to herself and afraid to have those feelings for someone who doesn't love her back. And it really makes you want to hit her over the head with a frying pan LOL. And thank you! That's how I intended it to be, which is even more heartbreaking 😭

It does make sense, poor thing. 😭 She's so unwilling to believe he could love her the way she wants/needs, while he's hesitating to allow himself to do it. And I'm thinking he's fighting off some self-doubt/self-worth issues as well?

I love this journey of self-discovery for her, both with her brother and past, and with her expanding powers. It's pique Hero's Journey stuff! 💚

Plus, I really think that the creature is adorable, well, besides the murder tendencies. (I guess we could also say that about Ben LMAO)

LMAO factssss. Who could say no to that adorably confused grandpa face?

The reader is killing me tbh. I know I've said this before, but writing slow burn is literally almost as bad as reading it. Don't get me wrong I LOVE slow burn, but oh my stars sometimes it's so frustrating for them to both be in so much denial lol. I shouldn't complain because I did this to myself and now it really is "oh look the consequences of my own actions" lol.

LOLL the slow burn is a killer for both of us! "The consequences of our own actions" is so deeply relatable for the writing process. 🤣🤣

Thank you so much!💗 For me there really is something wonderful about reading/seeing creative chaos in a home, and also looking at creative spaces that people have. I think that there is warmth and comfort in a home that looks lived in. It's why I don't love minimalism, because it looks cold if that makes sense lol.

Aw you're welcome! I totally agree. I love seeing that as well -- it's like getting a window into a person's mind through their living space. I don't like minimalism for that reason either!

Again, I was so on the fence about Soothsayer, but what you said about her being in "an even better position to give her advice when it comes to that man" is exactly why I decided to include her.

Honestly it was a great twist! It makes her friendship with Ben more fleshed out and her own past, and how it serves to help the reader now. Especially now that it seems she's going to help get the reader and Ben together! 😂

I know 😭 She is going to realize it soon and I am so excited about that reveal. Oh plus I do think that she does know deep down that she does love him and care about him, but she's afraid to admit it because she doesn't want to fall for someone who she believes doesn't value relationships like she does.

God I can't wait!! lol And I totally get that. She really does seem to realize how deep her feelings run for him, but she's afraid, for the reasons you said. 🥲🥲

Mayyyybbbbeeeee...😉 Honestly, as much as I love reading fics where the reader isn't a supe, there's always a little part of me that can't help but see the reader growing old and Ben staying the same, and it always breaks my heart. There really is something so intimate and romantic about being able to truly spend your life with someone else, not just your life and then they go on for another few centuries.

Ooooh yesssss. 😏 And totally agree with you there! It's too bittersweet for me when you know one of them is going to die someday and the other keeps living on, carrying the weight of their memory. It's why I had to come up with that twist in BMD loll. Thank you for noting on that! It took some head scratching and BS science (and some inspo from my love of Smallville), but I think the reasoning was convincing enough on how the reader in BMD "caught up" with his longevity of life. 😂 I also love the idea of the plants giving her healing abilities and prolonging her life through that cell regeneration. 💚💚

It's my favorite line too! That and the bundt cake 😂. But you're right, he's afraid of everything that he's feeling and after Countess, he's not sure if he should fall for someone again.

Can't forget the bundt cake!!

Oh yeah, Countess sure fucked him up. 😬 That, along with the torture and years of being treated like a god in all other respects. 🫠

Oh Ben, he'll get there. He just needs some actual love in his life, and someone stubborn enough to not only put up with his shit, but like you said, "take a chance" on him. 😉

It's always my pleasure to read your stories, hun! Giving the feedback is the least I can do. 💕

Chapter 14: Don't Be A Bundt Cake

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy 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 (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy, Miscommunication Trope

Word Count: 13.1K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Talks of Death, DENIAL, Idiots in Love, Pining by the Reader (and SB, but he won't admit it) Depressing Thoughts, Mentions of sexual assault/rape (not detailed at all, really just in passing) Talks about weed, Sexist comments, Ben makes derogatory comments, Threatening 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.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: I am so sorry this one took me a bit longer. The writers block was fighting me the whole way, but we are very closely nearing the end of this series and the moment the reader and Ben stop being so stinkin' stubborn.

Reader POV

You lean your forehead against the cool window, watching the world flash by in a flurry of color. The wooded forests had vanished hours ago and all that was left were the yellowed sprawling fields of corn and grain and family farms that were laid sporadically along the interstate. Each one a little world that caught the flecks of golden sunlight as the sun began to peak above the horizon.

The bus rolled smooth and steady over the weathered pavement towards it's destination and was filled with an odd assortment of people young and old. There was man with a brightly colored parrot that had been singing "It's A Small World After All" since you left NYC, a woman with a little boy playing with an iPad and who refused to turn down the volume no matter how many times his mother asked him to, a group of teenagers a few seats up that continued to pass around a flask, and due to how far back you were sitting on the bus an uncomfortable smell emanated from the bathroom each time the door was opened.

But you didn't notice any of it.

The only thing on your mind were the events that happened almost twenty hours ago. They continued to circle your mind, playing over and over again like a perverted cassette tape making you sink further into the worn cloth covered seat at the back of the bus. The images were haunting, some new and some old, but all the more still horrible to re-live.

The song "Nights In White Satin" floating into the backseat of your family's car, the flash of unnatural light you knew was never lightning, the caskets at your parent's funeral covered in flowers that were much to pretty to lay on something so morbid, Elijah's body succumbing to the poppies that ripped him apart, the proud sneer on your brother's face when he admitted to killing your parents, Darren's broken and bloodied body strewn in pieces over the street with the creature standing over him with a dripping red maw, the ruined building that housed "Please Don't Die" reduced to nothing more than rubble, and the look on Ben's face when you turned your back on him and fled the scene.

For some reason that particular image seemed to cling on to you and refused to fade. You'd never seen him look that way, almost… helpless and a little fearful. In all the time you'd known him, Ben had never looked at you that way. Sure you'd seen him proud, angry, cocky, lustful, mischievous, but never fearful. And you were sure that it wasn't an emotion that he was used to feeling, but that begged the question… why?

Why was he looking at me like that? Why wouldn't he let me go? And what was he afraid of?

The creature curled in your lap snorts something in it's sleep, turning it’s head further into the cradle of your elbow to shut out the brilliant early morning sunlight. It was now the size of a toaster and had warranted several odd looks whenever you got off to change buses, but you didn't care.

You weren't sure about anything anymore. Everything your brother confessed to you made you feel like you were living a lie and the revelation of exactly what your powers could do- take life from plants to heal yourself, create whatever the hell it was on your lap, and speak to plants… it scared you.

You thought for so long that you knew everything about your powers, that you were in control, but now you weren't sure.

You felt different, as if something had unlocked deep down that you couldn't shut up again.

You'd felt different after you killed Elijah, but this was more alive, weaving and twisting in the pit of your stomach. You felt more connected to the earth, to the world outside the bus even though you were divided by glass and metal. You could feel the energy that thrummed through the body of the creature on your lap, bending to your will, the life force of the plants it was formed from molding with you, becoming a part of you.

You felt so different than the person you had been before Darren entered the shop, so uncertain, and there was only one place you wanted to be when you felt like this… home. You couldn't wait to run up the worn front steps of your grandmother's house and into her arms. She always knew what to say in times like this.

And you desperately needed the comfort of her embrace.

The phone in your pocket buzzes again and you flip the screen to see the ridiculous selfie Annie and you had taken on Halloween last year. The one that you'd both spent dressed up as the two brothers from your favorite paranormal tv show. It wasn't the first time she'd called. Annie had called and texted you more times than you could count over the past twenty hours but you didn't answer her. You didn’t want to.

It was the first time that you didn't want to talk to her, but talking to her meant that you'd have to re-live all of it again and you were clawing at the last shred of sanity you had left to keep it together.

The overwhelming waves of emotion kept pummeling you, dragging you deeper beneath the white surf. Each one brought the memories of what happened surging over you and were followed by everything that Darren said to you. Years of taking care of Darren and doing whatever he wished were tearing at your soul, years of giving up little things in your life to make him happy, and years of taking care of a man who you thought cared about you, but hated you enough to kill your parents and try to kill you too.

It made your skin crawl. Each time your brother told you that he loved you was an even bigger lie and now that you knew the truth and saw him for what he was, it felt like you were drowning. The darkness that ebbed just on the edge was begging you to leap into the abyss, but you were resisting the best you could.

The tears had stopped falling miles ago, but you couldn't stop the memories or the emotion that formed a cold ball in the pit of your stomach.

A sigh works it's way up and you pull your legs on the seat underneath you, jostling the creature on your lap that raises it's head for a moment to blink it's black eyes at you sleepily.

It was surprisingly docile right now, especially considering that twenty hours ago it had ripped your brother to shreds. In fact it seemed to understand how upset you were and had spent the better part of the last twenty hours rubbing it's head against your arm as if trying to bring you some comfort. It was settled on your lap, the weight of it a comfort, almost like a weighted plushy that gave you something to focus on.

"It's alright buddy." You whisper, scratching him under his chin. "We're almost home."

The phone in your jacket pocket buzzes again, but when you pull it out to turn it off, you catch a glimpse of the screen, and you hesitate. Because this time it's not Annie who's calling, it’s Ben.

The picture that flashes on the screen under the contact name "Gramps" is the picture of Mr. Fredrickson from Up. It always made you smile whenever he called you and you saw the picture because Ben did often remind you of him. He was certainly just as grumpy as Mr. Fredrickson and just as out of touch, but you thought it was cute.

Your thumb hovers over the answer button and you think about talking to him.

But what would I say?

You weren't sure what to say to him, or why you wanted to speak to him so badly, why you wanted him to be sitting here on the bus with you as you went home, and why you wanted him to hold you against his chest while you allowed yourself to break, but you did. You wanted to feel his awkward shoulder pat and his awkward version of hand holding and you wanted to hear him try to tell you to "buck up" or whatever he thought that a comforting word should be.

He's really not the best at that.

You smile to yourself at the memory of how he tried to comfort you back at the hospital, but the longer you sit there and look down at the picture on the screen the worse you feel.

Maybe that scared you more than your newfound powers, how much you were realizing that you needed him, how much you depended on him when things got too much for you to bear. The memory of him appearing as soon as you needed him back at the shop, another of him grabbing Darren and throwing him into the street as soon as Darren insulted you comes in a flash, and finally followed by the memory of Ben carrying you out of Elijah's office while you curled into his chest. You couldn't remember too much from that moment, in fact you'd thought that Ben had kissed you on top of your head, but you ascribed that to the haze of pain you'd been in from your broken arm.

What you did remember was how wonderfully warm he was after you'd been trapped in that damn freezer and how nice it felt to be in his arms. Another memory of Ben sleeping on the couch at the hospital bubbles up and you feel something in your chest begin to crack open. And you try your best to tell yourself the same thing that you always do when you feel like Ben might care more about you that he was letting on.

Ben doesn't want that. He's made it perfectly clear. He doesn't want a relationship. He's only wants one night, that's why he goes out with all those women-

You hesitate, thumb still hovering over the answer button as you do, the memory of the week you'd spent at the apartment with him flickering in the back of your mind. The week where he refused to leave you alone in the apartment, where he refused to do any jobs for Butcher, where he took care of you the best way he could, when he sat with you on the couch and made you laugh with his ridiculous movies, and the week where he hadn't had one date.

Your finger itched to answer the phone, but you couldn't, because you didn't want to feel this way about Ben, not when he'd told you countless times that you kept romanticizing him, not when he told you that he didn't want a relationship, and not when you could feel yourself beginning to fall for someone you thought was the wrong man.

For just a moment you tried to pretend that it was different, that he was different, but you didn't want to. It only made it hurt more.

The phone stops ringing, but the pit in your stomach still gapes open at you and for the first time in twenty hours you feel tears begin to fall. You didn't know why you were crying about this, why the thought of not picking up Ben's phone call seemed to hurt more than everything that had happened, but something made it hurt.

The bus driver announces over the overhead that you're reaching your final destination as he takes the exit for your hometown. The familiar buildings that line the streets are sheathed in a honeyed glow from the sun, the long shadow of the bus darkening them momentarily as it rumbles down the small streets to the bus station.

When it rumbles to a stop at the bus station you wait for everyone else to get off, trying to summon the strength to stand, and swipe the back of your hand across your face to rid yourself of the remaining tears.

The bus station was about a thirty minute walk from your grandmother's house, and you still hadn't called her. You didn't know what to say, didn't know how to tell her that Darren was dead and that he was the reason why your parents were dead.

The creature crawls up your body to drape it's warm body over the back of your neck as you stand. It wasn't bothering to hide, besides the people in your hometown already thought that you were odd because you were a supe and you'd always welcomed it. You give him a scratch on top of his head and his warm tongue flicks on the bottom of your earlobe as if thanking you before it curls further into the side of your neck, seeking warmth.

The first few steps on solid ground are shaky, but you find the strength while taking in a deep cleansing breath of the outside world, letting the gentle warmth of the sun and the tickle of the autumn breeze pull at your coat. You hadn't stopped at your apartment before coming here, instead you had stumbled your way to the bus station covered in dust, flecked in blood, and demanded the first ticket back to Illinois. It was lucky that the next bus was leaving immediately, because you didn’t want to spend another second in NYC, not when all you wanted was to be home.

Plus you were worried that someone had recorded what exactly happened outside the plant shop and you didn't want to get arrested.

It was self defense anyway. Maybe Jake would represent me in court.

The thought of Jake makes you twinge. You hadn't checked to see if he was alright before you ran from the scene. Not to mention you'd destroyed the shop he'd put all his life savings into after he stopped being a lawyer.

Oh fuck, what if he sues me? He can't exactly sue Darren…

You hear someone call your name and you open your eyes.

Your grandmother is standing in front of the same baby blue pickup truck that she'd had longer than you've been alive, wearing a long multicolored skirt and a pressed white blouse tucked elegantly into it. Her silver hair is loose and long, curling over her shoulders in gentle waves. She looks the same way she looked one week ago when she left, and you've never seen anything so beautiful in your life.

You're running before you can stop yourself, crumbling into her warm embrace, with more tears streaking down your face, but she doesn't mind.

"Shh. It's alright honey." She whispers, rubbing her hand over your back, her embrace steady and surprisingly strong. "Let's go home."

Her home is the same as it's always been. A two story Victorian house painted in a happy yellow shade, with a white wrap around porch and two white rocking chairs sitting empty on the front porch. You'd spent more nights than you could count rocking silently beside her with a crochet project in your lap listening to the rain fall and soak the world outside, while the plants sang praises with every gentle bend beneath the heavy droplets.

You could barely remember the home you spent in your early years with your parents, not when you'd spent most of your childhood spending the night here and after your parents died living here permanently. There was still a large oak tree were a wooden swing swung in the slight breeze on the left side of the yard, a gardenia bush that stretched as high as the second story on the right side of the house and brushed it's soft leaves against the sunshine colored outer walls, a garden filled with both flowering plants and herbs that perked up on both sides of the front yard as you walked up the path, and a cobblestone path that Annie and you had spent hours of your shared childhood covering in chalk art.

Neither of you were good, but when the rain would fall and smudge the clean lines, you'd jump in the puddles that pooled along the walkway singing the lyrics to ABBA's "Cassandra" not quite understanding what it meant.

Standing here outside your house made you miss Annie and feel worse about not calling or texting her back, but you didn't feel like talking about what happened and you were sure that Butcher filled her in. The only thing that you wanted was to collapse in your bedroom upstairs and curl under the comforters.

Despite everything the house was a welcome sight, but at the same time it was different. You could feel the plants calling out to you, asking for you, bending towards you just to touch your shoes as you walked by. You'd never felt so connected with them before, not even when you were in your apartment or working at the shop.  It was overwhelming.

And although a part of you was frightened by it, another part of you rejoiced in it. You didn't feel alone, didn't feel weak, and you knew that you never would ever again.

The creature nuzzled into the side of your neck with a sigh, soaking up the sun's healing rays as you walked up the front steps with your grandmother following behind you silently. She hadn't spoken since she picked you up at the bus station and you hadn't supplied anything in the ten minute car ride back to her house.

You didn't know where to start and you were still trying to process everything yourself.

The inside of her house was just as cozy and warm as it was the day you moved out. There were photos of your parents and you covering the walls (Darren's had been placed in the closet long ago), half-finished knitting projects sorted in different baskets on both the dining room table and the living room coffee table, spools of yarn were strewn over the couch sorted by color, and the fresh smell of gardenia wafted through the open windows on the breeze.

It was home. This was what you'd been missing the moment everything began to crash over you, but as you stood there in the familiar living room it felt like something was missing. Something tugged at the back of your mind, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

There was something or rather someone that should be here, but you didn't know what or who. And your mind supplied Annie, but you weren't sure that's who you meant.

"Let's have some tea." Your grandmother says from behind you and you feel her soft hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the familiar creative chaos and into the large kitchen at the back of the house.

The kitchen isn't spared from the madness, it rarely was. There are boxes upon boxes of cookies in different stages of being packaged all over the counter, dirty bowls and a measuring cup stacked in the sink, and a large opened bag of chocolate chips spilling over the flour covered kitchen island.

It wasn't unusual to find the kitchen or the house in a state of chaos, your grandmother always said that a house should look lived in and that the mess was part of the fun of any major project as long as you were responsible enough to clean it up.

"Bake sale?" You ask as you sit down in the breakfast nook, uttering the first words that you'd said to another human being in twenty hours.

The next breath that you inhale was supposed to be cleansing, but you can still feel a weight pressing down on your chest, the same one that settled in the moment everything happened with Darren.

You contemplate again how you're going to tell her that Darren is dead and was the reason why your parents died.

Damn it Darren.

"Mhmm." She hums, filling the well used red kettle. "Annie's mother practically cornered me in the supermarket yesterday and begged me to make cookies. I love Annie, but her mother needs someone to pull that stick out of her ass. It's been up there for so long that I'm sure it's rotten."

The creature crawls down from your shoulders and down your arm to sniff at one of the chocolate chip cookies nearest you. It hadn't eaten since…

Darren.

You wince slightly at the thought and hope that you hadn't created something that needed and craved human flesh. The last thing you wanted to unleash on the world was Audry two especially in the wake of Homelander.

Truthfully you were waiting for the guilt at killing your brother to come, but it never had and you wondered if it ever would.

Probably not. He deserved that, he killed our parents, he tried to kill me, he tried to kill Ben.

The thought of Ben again makes a lump form in the back of your throat. You didn't know what was happening to you only that you felt guilty for leaving him like that, for yelling at him to let you go, and just vanishing on him when he probably thought that you were going back to the apartment.

He doesn't know where I am. Maybe that's why he tried to call, because he got back to the apartment and couldn't find me there and he was worried. You press your lips together. Yeah. Worried. Right.

"Honey?" Your grandmother says in a soothing voice

You look up from the box of chocolate chip cookies that you didn't remember picking up. Even the creature is looking at you with an expression that you can only explain as worry.

"Yeah?" Your voice shakes slightly.

She's leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, head tilted slightly to the side, her beautiful grayed hair pulled up in an elegant bun, but in her eyes you can see genuine concern. "Fuck." She sighs after a minute.

You blink in surprise. It was the first time that you'd ever heard her say that word in your entire life.

"I shouldn't have left." She breathes. "I told Ben to look out for you. I told him, that little bastard was bound to show up again and what did he do? He left you at that plant shop alone with no protection!"

You'd only seen her really angry a handful of times in your lifetime. Like you, your grandmother often had a gentle disposition and didn't get angry unless the situation called for it.

I mean, Darren admitted to killing our parents and then got fucking ripped apart. But how does she know about any of that? I haven't told her…

"How did you know that he left me there? Did Ben call you?" You ask putting down the box of cookies.

An odd expression crosses her face, as if she's contemplating something. "No." She hesitates again. "I saw it."

"No." Your grandmother hesitates. "I saw it."

"You saw it?" You repeat, confused.

What's going on?

"Too late of course, but I'm a little rusty. I was able to warn Ben that Darren was coming back. That's how he got there so quickly or rather-" She shrugs sheepishly. "He got there in time to make sure that Darren didn't get you to forgive him. Which you shouldn't have at all, but I know he's always had a talent for manipulating you."

"What?"

Is she saying what I think she's saying?

Instead of explaining further your grandmother walks out of the kitchen, leaving the kettle behind on the stove and you in a state of utter confusion.

Is she saying that she can see the future? Because that would mean that she's a supe and there's only one supe in history that I know of that can do that. A supe that no one has seen in over forty years.

You can hear her open the door to the closet under the stairs and the sound of her sifting through all the junk that the two of you had shoved in there over the years instead of finding the right place to put it.

When she comes back into the kitchen, she's holding a giant cardboard file box that you'd never paid attention to each time you opened the closet to find something. Your eyes shift from the box to her still not comprehending exactly what she was saying.

"I probably should have told you this a while ago, but…" She trails off and nods her head at the box before turning back to the kettle on the stove that has begun to scream. "I kept putting it off."

The box is old, worn at the edges, and theres a musty black fabric beneath a collection of yellowed photographs. You pull out the one on top to examine it.

Ben is standing there in his full Soldier Boy regalia outside of Vought tower and the woman standing next to him is Soothsayer. The outfit she wore was familiar, a black-skin tight suit with a blind fold tied over her eyes.

Soothsayer was a supe who could see the future and who was apart of Payback, a supe that had vanished a year before the mission in Nicaragua and no one knew where she went. There were rumors that she'd died and that she'd been a Russian spy, but you'd never believed them. You'd heard Butcher talk about how he tried to find her when he was trying to figure out what happened to Soldier Boy, but he never had. Said that the trail went cold.

But now you knew where she went, because she was standing directly in front of you.

She's Soothsayer? Holy fuck that's why Ben kept accusing her of cheating in the poker game because he knew that she could see the future.

"You were Soothsayer?" You gasp. "But why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me?"

She continues to measure the tea leaves. "I didn't tell anyone."

"Grandpa didn't know? But he was alive when you were a supe?"

Your grandfather had never spoken about a history with supes that you remember.

"No." She turns to look at you, a hurt expression crossing over her face for a minute. "Well, I know that I said I was going to have tea, but if we're going to talk about this I'm going to need something a little bit stronger."

Your grandmother opens a cabinet under the stove an pulls out an enormous bottle of scotch. Truth be told you'd never seen her drink more than just a glass of wine, to see her like this was about as shocking as seeing a polar bear sunning itself on a Florida beach.

"Do you still want the blueberry tea or do you need something a little stronger?" She looks back over her shoulder at you as she pulls down a glass for herself.

"I think I need something stronger." You answer honestly.

Learning about everything Darren had done was one thing, but finding out that your grandmother used to be a famous supe and that she never told you about it was another thing. It was like looking at another person. You'd always loved your grandmother's gentle way, her care for her community and her family soft, but now you weren't sure you really knew who she was.

She sits down across from you and hands you a glass of the amber colored liquid. There's a heavy silence that hangs between the two of you as she tries to find a way to start. The photo of her and Ben is laying on top of what you realize is her uniform inside the box and she smiles down at the photo, just a little twitch at the corner of her lips.

"I met Ben when I was twenty three years old." She begins taking a sip from the glass. "Legend 'discovered' me. I had the injection of Compound V maybe two years before that, not when I was born, but I hadn't gotten popular. Other powers were much more flashy and by then there were so many heroes coming out of the woodwork that someone with the ability to see the future didn't seem as marketable."

There's something reflected in her blue eyes, the same eyes your father had, that you can't place. "I had just moved to New York, I had no money, and the way I was getting it was by pretending to be a fortune teller and betting on some sports events on the side. It wasn't hard to prove that I could see the future, the past was more difficult, but Legend somehow stumbled into my shop and figured out that I was a supe. And he didn't think I was too bad looking so he helped me get big."

"You pretended to be a fortune teller?"

She snorts into her glass. "Mhmm. People really will believe anything if they're desperate enough and back then there was so much turmoil going on with Russia that people were scared and wanted to feel comforted. My job provided some of that."

"But why did you walk away from it if you were such a big hero." You ask. "Everyone knew your name, you were-"

Your grandmother raises an eyebrow at you and you fall silent so she can continue. "When I got onto Payback that's when everything exploded for me, the films, the commercials, the ridiculous ads." She sighs. "That's also when I met Ben."

You take a sip from the glass in front of you, sputtering slightly. It was stronger than you were expecting. "And you two were-"

Please don't say dating, please don't say dating, please don't say…

"Friends. Just friends." Diana sits back against the back of the breakfast nook, sinking into the navy blue pillows. "But he is almost as charming now as he was then."

You cringe at the thought of Ben coming on to a younger version of your grandmother.

She taps her glass with her index finger deep in thought. "But I think that I was the only person that Ben actually talked to, the only person that he was comfortable being around."

"What do you mean?" You ask confused. "Didn't he talk to Countess and to Legend?"

Her expression hardens at the mention of Countess's name. "He didn't talk to her the way he talked to me. Ben is difficult, he always has been and I think that most of the people he meet him write him off as this asshole with a chauvinistic look on the world, but he's not. At least, not all the time. There are so many people that he's met that are never willing to take a chance on him. To trust that there is really something beneath all of that bravado."

It was what you had been thinking for the past week, that there was more to Ben than he was willing to let people see, but you were slowly realizing that Ben was letting you see those parts. In the quiet moments at your shared apartment when he sat with you while you read or made you laugh or walked you to and from work you saw another side of Ben that you never saw when he was around anyone else. The guilt rises again when you think of how you ran from him, how you turned your back and left him standing there to clean up your mess.

I shouldn’t have done that, but it was all just so overwhelming and I didn't want to talk to anyone.

"I think that Ben is the most loyal friend I ever had. No one ever seems to believe me when I say that. That we were just friends, but nothing happened between us."

"You didn't date? Or sleep together?" You ask cautiously. It was difficult to imagine Ben being friends with a woman and not having a sexual relationship with her.

Well. We're friends, but that's different.

The last thing you wanted to think about was Ben and your grandmother having sex.

I would need so much therapy after that. You sigh. Yeah, because after all the shit I've been through and found out about my life in the last twenty hours, the knowledge that Ben fucked my grandmother is what's going to push me over the edge.

"No." She shakes her head with a small smile. "About a week after I met Ben, I was running late to a movie shoot and I stepped off the crosswalk without looking. There was a car coming and I didn't see it. Ironic isn't it?" She laughs at herself. "I can see the future and I didn't see a car coming, but your grandfather did and he grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me onto the sidewalk, saved my life. And the second my eyes locked with his I saw our future. I saw our wedding, our first house, I saw our son take his first steps and I saw how much I would love him and how much he would love me." She clears her throat for a minute, her fingers tighten on the glass, and her gaze drops to the wedding ring on her left hand. “The future is never set in stone, it’s fluid. It morphs and shapes with your decisions, but in the future I saw, I was so happy. And I didn’t want to lose that.”

Your grandfather had passed a few years ago, but you knew it weighed on her everyday. She had spent the week after he died in her room not saying anything to anyone. And sometimes she'd look out the window into the backyard with an odd expression, but you knew that meant she was thinking of him.

Growing up you'd seen how in love the two of them were, more so than your parents. Seen the flowers your grandfather always brought home just because he was thinking of her, watched him do little things around the house without being asked, saw how they never walked away angry from one another, and seen the soppy expression he'd get when he watched your grandmother move around the kitchen baking with a grace that you'd never possessed.

You reach across the table to touch her hand and she takes it gratefully.

"I didn't want to tell him that I was a supe, and at the beginning I thought I could balance it all, but then Ben started dating Countess." She takes another sip from her glass. "She hated me."

"What? Why?" You ask. The creature crawls across the table to sniff at the glass in front of you, before it snorts and falls into your lap, curling into a ball.

"Countess was a bitch." Your grandmother says mirthlessly, her expression hardening. "She wanted to possess Ben completely. Only loved how famous he was, how popular it made her, and he threw himself at her feet, in his own way, not understanding that love didn’t look that way. He’s never had a good example of it in his life. And she never understood that Ben and I were just friends. By then I had been dating your grandfather for a few months and things were getting serious. It was about a year before everything that happened in Nicaragua."

She presses her lips together as if remembering what happened to Ben there. "She was jealous, possessive, and she came to me one night. Ben was out of town for a film so she knew we wouldn’t be interrupted. She threatened to tell your grandfather who I really was and threatened to kill him.” Her jaw sets. “My powers were never really as offensive as hers were. And she said that Ben wouldn’t ever protect me over her because he loved her and would do anything to make her happy. So I left and I never looked back.”

And here I thought I couldn't hate Countess any more than I did for what she did to Ben.

“You didn’t talk to him ever again?” You wonder out loud.

She left without telling him goodbye?

“There was the occasional phone call. Sometimes Ben would ask me to see who was going to win a ball game or something so he could make a few bucks. He stopped by to say hi a few times because he was in the neighborhood. One time he brought your father a baseball glove that was way too big for a one year old.” She snorts, the memory flashing in her eyes. “I always thought Ben would be a good dad some day. But I think seeing your father was when Ben realized how much he wanted to have kids. And I think seeing the way your grandfather treated me made him start to feel conflicted about Countess. But he respected that I walked away, he saw that I was happy.”

“But what about Nicaragua?"

A dark look crosses her face followed by something that looks suspiciously like guilt. “I saw what they were going to do to him.”

“What? But why didn't you tell him what they were planning? Why didn't you-"

"I tried." She snaps, shoulders tense, but then they drop. "I called Ben, but Stan answered. By then your father was turning two, your grandfather had opened up his practice, and Stan threatened me, he knew where we were and knew everything about us. So I kept my mouth shut and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

You could feel your heart breaking for her.

Ben was her best friend and she had to sit by and watch them do that to him. She saw what they were going to do and they were going to kill her for it, kill my family for it.

The anger that surges in your chest makes the creature in your lap stir and grow a few inches, but you tamp it down before it gets bigger than a small dog.

“Does Ben know?” You ask her to distract yourself.

You didn't want Ben to hate your grandmother for this, didn't want him to hate her for something that wasn't her fault.

She nods. “Yes. I told him everything.”

“When?”

“The moment I saw him in your hospital room. I couldn’t keep it in any longer. I wasn't expecting him to be there, but it all poured out of me. I was so surprised to see him there. I hadn't seen a future where he came back."

“Was he mad?”

I mean… he didn't seem mad when I woke up, not to mention he was upset when she left to come back to Illinois.

“Not at me.” She shakes her head. “He knew how much I wanted a normal life and how much I loved your grandfather. He doesn’t blame me for any of it.”

“Good. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

The glass in front of you is still more than half-full but you don't want to risk another sip of what you're sure is gasoline packaged to look like Scotch. Your grandmother reaches to pour herself another glass.

“I didn’t want to until you were ready.”

“And when would that be?”

Your grandmother shrugs. “Maybe on my deathbed.”

You weren't angry for her not telling you, more surprised, but now that you knew everything about her it was hard to see her the same way you had.

 You snort. “And no one knew?”

“Your dad figured it out.”

“How? When?”

“The moment you made that strawberry plant grow from your high chair.” She shakes her head with a smile. “It skipped a generation. Don’t know why, but you got it all somehow.”

“I was never injected?”

“No. That was a lie your father created. He knew that your grandfather didn't know and he knew that I didn't want your grandfather to know."

“Darren thought I was.”

“I know.”

At the mention of your brother's name, you watch her expression harden and she takes another swig from the glass in front of her, not flinching as the liquid goes down her throat.

“Did you see everything that happened?” You ask in a small voice.

You still weren't 100% sure how it was her powers worked, but you figured that she was able to see some of what Darren did and what he said.

“Yes.”

“You heard everything Darren said?"

“Yes.”

You chew the inside of your cheek for a minute hoping that she didn't take it as hard as you did. “Did you know that he killed them?”

“No.” She breathes, rolling the glass between her hands for a moment. “The night they died, I got a vision a few minutes before the car ran off the road. I was the one who called the police and who told them where to look, but I never saw that it was Darren or that it was anyone causing the accident. All I saw was the three of you in the car. I should have known.” Her voice breaks.

“It’s not your fault.” You squeeze her hand.

“And it’s not yours either.” She squeezes your hand back.

The memories are beginning to float up from the recesses of your mind and your teeth clench together as you try to keep them at bay.

“I know.” You breathe. The memory of the ruined shop flashes through your head. “I didn’t know that I could do something like that.” You gently touch your healed right arm and glance at the creature that is nibbling on the edge of the cardboard box with its sharp splinter-like teeth. “I feel so different and I don’t know how to go back to the way I was.”

“I don’t think you ever will.”

"Really?"

The thought was unwelcome. You were hoping that all of this was going to blow over, but you knew it wouldn't. Your powers had changed. There was an energy that thrummed in your veins now, stretching out of the house to the plants that grew in the garden. You could feel them all if you concentrated.

She frowns. “When you told me that you were working for Butcher I was worried about you getting involved in the supe world. I didn’t want that life for you, didn’t want you to suffer the way I did-“

“Was it really that bad?"

“Not all the time, just at the end. But I think that’s why I loved your grandfather so much. Because he was different than all the supes. He was down to earth, not just normal but-“ She shrugs. “I think Compound V does something to our minds, makes them more susceptible and when you’re surrounded by people using their powers and thinking that they’re gods it’s easy to lose who you are. I was glad I left when I did."

“Great." You huff, thinking about how your powers had grown exponentially since you killed your brother. It was scaring you to think that you would reach a point where you acted like Homelander, where you saw yourself as a god and killed anyone who stood in your way.

As tired as the stereotype of you only being able to make the flowers grow, you liked doing that. You liked healing plants, tending to them, and helping them grow. For you it had never been about using your powers the way that you had to kill Elijah and your brother and had always been about spreading a little more joy and love like your grandmother did with her kindness in her community.

Your mind flashes back to the first night that Ben stayed with you in your apartment and he'd asked you why you worked for Butcher and told you that he thought you "didn't fit."

Before you hadn't. You knew that. You weren't intimidating to look at or fueled by revenge or had a bone to pick with supes. You'd joined because you thought it was the right thing to do and because you wanted to be closer with Annie. She had been so involved in the supe world and you'd felt like you were losing your best friend. When in reality being at "Please Don't Die" was the only thing that felt natural for you.

You could feel yourself changing and you weren't sure that you wanted to and you weren't sure if you were changing for the better. Deep down you still felt like you, despite everything Darren had revealed, but your powers were greater than you'd thought they could be.

“No.” She squeezes your hand pulling you out of your head. “I don’t see you losing yourself in this.”

“You’ve seen-“ Your eyes widen.

“The future yeah.” Her lips twitch up at the ends in a smile. “It is what I do.”

“That’s so weird.”

You hadn't meant to say it, but you really didn't want to know too much about your future.

Well, not all that much. Maybe just a little.

“You of all people have no right to judge what’s weird. Not with Godzilla sitting in your lap.”

"Godzilla" yawns, flashing a mouthful of his pointy teeth, before settling back down on your thighs.

You smile for the first time in twenty hours, but then it drops. “I don’t like losing control. I thought I knew who I was but now I don’t-“ The emotions were bubbling up again, chest tightening, and lungs beginning to gasp for air. “I don’t know who I am anymore or what I am or what I can do and-“

“There’s nothing wrong with not being in control.”

“But what if I hurt someone? What if I kill-“ You body shakes as you think about all the important people in your life, Annie, Hughie, Butcher, Kimiko, MM, Frenchie- and then your mind stutters on Ben.

“Your powers are growing and there’s nothing to be afraid of or ashamed of. If you’re afraid of them it won’t get easier for you. You have to embrace the fear to see the lights that line the path through it.”

"I killed Darren, I killed Elijah-"

"Not because you lost control. You did it because you were protecting yourself and protecting your friends."

"But-"

"Who is it that you're scared of hurting? Annie?" Her expression turns sympathetic. "Annie is a supe and understands what it's like to lose control. None of us are in control all the time and it's ridiculous to believe that you won't lose control at least once."

Your throat clenches tightly, because when she asked the question you didn't see Annie's face, you saw Ben's. You knew that it was probably ridiculous to worry about hurting a guy with a nuclear reactor stuffed in his chest or a guy who'd been through every torture known to man, but you were. And you weren't entirely sure if you meant hurting him with just your powers.

Tears crest and fall down your cheeks as you sit there, throat thickening. "I don't want to hurt Ben."

"He's a little more indestructible than us sweetie." She cracks a smile, but you can't smile back and you don't answer because you're unsure how to.

She sits back against the breakfast nook and sighs, examining your face and slowly realizes what you mean. "Ben is complicated. He always has been. I like to think that most of it, is his father's fault. Has he told you anything about him?"

You shake your head.

"He was a dick. Made Ben think that he was a disappointment his whole life. I don't think that Ben has had someone love him unconditionally since his mother died. And loving Countess only made it worse for him. Her love was jealous, possessive, and I don't think that he's really come to terms with what real love should look like." She lets out a breath, tapping her index finger against the glass. "I never saw him as more than a friend, but I do love him. It's not a crime to love him."

"I don't love him." You say it immediately.

"Why not?"

"What?" You sputter. "I don't know what you're-"

"Tell me why you don't love him." Your grandma says methodically, as if she's trying to talk you through it.

"Because I-" The pressure was back in the back of your throat and you couldn't quite meet her eye. "Because-" You scramble for the answer, trying your darndest to keep your heart from clenching in your chest. "I want what you and grandpa had, what Annie and Hughie have, and what my parents had. A strong relationship with someone who sees all my flaws, the little parts, and the darkness and still choses to fall in love with me anyway. I don't want just one night I want every night. I want something real and Ben has said countless times that he-"

"So you've talked about it with Ben?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Only because he kept trying to sleep with me and I told him that I didn't want to have sex with him." You reply exasperated.

"You don't?"

"Gran!"

"What? He's attractive."

"It doesn't matter. None of it does. Because Ben has said that he doesn't have relationships, that he doesn't care about feelings, or emotions." Saying the words that Ben had told you countless times made something inside begin to shrivel up and die. "And I do. And I don't want to manipulate him into being something he's not or force him into a relationship that's doomed from the beginning. Ben is Ben. He's not changing or-"

"He has." She interrupts.

"What?"

"The Ben I saw in your hospital room is not the one I knew." She says it so matter of fact that makes it hard to breathe. "And neither was the one that I saw in your apartment when I stayed with you. I mean he is in essence Ben, but-"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"He is changing. Not completely, but he's acting differently than when he was with Countess. I mean, I saw all the things he did for her. The way he was around her."

"Why does that matter?"

"Because he loved her."

The words make your heart seize in your chest. "Ben doesn't love me. He's my roommate and my friend-" It was the same thing that you kept telling yourself on repeat to beat back the other feelings that you hadn't quite identified yet. "And he's told me that he doesn't want a relationship and that I should try to meet other people."

That last part was a lie, but you honestly didn't know where she was going with this conversation or why it was getting so hard to breathe.

"Have you thought that maybe Ben doesn't want to love you because he's scared?"

"He doesn't love me and Ben isn't afraid of anything."

"He is. It might not look the same way on him as it does on everyone else, but if you pay close enough attention you can catch it." She hesitates. "And I think if you pay attention to you, you'll see what it is that you're afraid of too."

What does she mean? What the hell am I afraid of? Ben isn't afraid of anything, he's practically shouted that from the mountaintops like Julie Andrews.

"I already told you what I'm afraid of."

"I'm not talking about you hurting someone honey. There's something else that you refuse to admit to yourself because you're scared." She smiles sadly at you. "You should though, because when you embrace it, what comes after is really beautiful." There's a far off look in her eyes and you realize that she'd seen something further ahead that she wasn't letting on.

"And it's all I want for you. To be happy." Your grandmother stands from the other side of the booth "I think you need some rest. You drove all night long and I doubt you got any sleep. And I have to package all of these before Annie's mother calls down the four horsemen of the Apocalypse on me."

"Wait-"

"Please sweetie." She lays her hand down on your arm. "I think you'll feel a little better about all of this when you've had some rest." Her fingers raise to push back some of the hair that's fallen forward into your eyes. "Hmm?"

You didn't want to rest, you wanted to talk about this, but you knew better than to argue with her. Not to mention she was right, you hadn't slept.

"And when you wake up I'll make your favorite for dinner, alright?" She smiles, but there's something behind it that you can't place.

"Okay."

And this time you don't argue with her. You go up the worn staircase that you have your entire life and collapse onto your bed, wondering exactly what it was she saw your future hold, and what it is that you won't admit to yourself.

Soldier Boy POV

There was no light in the apartment save from the burning red tip of Ben's blunt and the bluish glow emanating from the tv that caught the dips and sharp edges of his face. But it was nothing more than background noise.

His hand absentmindedly stroked along Bean's back, his eyes focused on the ceiling above the couch. He hadn't moved in hours. It had been over twenty four hours since everything that happened at the plant shop, since you'd summoned a creature from the depths of the store, since Darren had thrown Ben through the plate glass windows of the bakery, and since Ben had last seen you.

He didn't understand why you hadn't let him take you back to the apartment and why it was that you had to leave. Ben hadn't liked the feeling that stabbed him in the chest when you turned your back on him and ran away. He'd felt the urge to comfort you the way he'd watched Hughie do for Annie in the car a week ago, but you hadn't let him.

Instead all he'd done is stood there and watched you run, still covered in dust, rubble, and blood. Worse was you hadn't let him check you for injuries and Ben hated the thought that you were hurt somewhere and he didn't know where you were.

You were so much more fragile than he was. He was realizing that more every day, was acutely aware of it after everything that happened with Elijah. Honestly, sitting there in the hospital with you laying there asleep with nothing that he could do, but wait for you to wake up had been agony. Not to mention that looking at the bruises around your throat, over your eye, and the bright green cast only made him feel worse. He'd never felt so helpless in his entire life and he hated it. Because Ben wasn't some helpless damsel in distress, he was a man and a man shouldn't wait on anyone or feel out of control, or at least, that's what he told himself.

Ben hears someone walk down the hallway outside the apartment and he perks up to listen, hoping that it's you finally coming home. Ben's mind stutters on the word "home." He'd lived many places in his life, apartments that felt more like way-stations, and the drafty cold mansion back in Philadelphia where he grew up, but neither felt like home. And although he hated how small your apartment was, it was the first place that Ben liked living in. He was starting to understand the word home.

But the feet keep moving past the apartment and Ben sinks into the couch cushions. Even Bean seems to be disappointed. "It's alright buddy." Ben mutters. "She'll come back."

But he wasn't sure.

Ben also wasn't used to feeling this way. It was close to the way that he felt when he went to Boston and was sitting in that damn hotel room waiting for something to happen and he still didn't understand what it meant. He didn't understand why he couldn't stand it that you weren't back yet. It made him feel like a woman waiting for her husband to get home from work when he told her that he was "running late." He'd tried to distract himself by looking at some possible prospects on Tinder, but just like the week after you'd come home from the hospital and just like the date he had in Boston, no one held any appeal.

His mind was awake and roaming around, pacing back and forth. The blunt was supposed to help, but it hadn't.

His phone chirps and Ben picks it up to look at the screen, but it's not you, it's Jake.

Jake: I know that I'm not your favorite person, but thank you for what you did.

Ben huffs and turns his phone face down on the couch once more. "What a fucking pussy."

When you left Ben had realized that Jake was still inside the building and as much as he wanted race after you, he understood that you'd be even more upset if you'd killed Jake. So Ben had tromped back through the building and found him trapped beneath some rubble. Jake was okay, just unconscious, but Ben had carried him out and put him on the sidewalk before he high tailed it out of there. The last thing that he wanted was to be caught with a shredded body outside a ruined building.

I didn't do it for him. I did it for her. Ben thinks to himself, looking down at the text message.

As much as he hated the thought of saving your future boyfriend, he didn't want to see what it did to you if you found out that you killed Jake, so he'd done it to avoid watching you cry again.

Ben didn't understand why he hated watching you cry.

Women cry. They're damn emotional all the time. He tries to reason with himself taking a puff from the blunt pinched between his thumb and forefinger. And she fucking cries way too much.

The image of you crying outside of the shop in the wake of everything that happened pricks something under his ribcage. Fuck.

Ben didn't feel remorse for what happened, well, the only thing he regretted was not getting there sooner and getting to fuck Darren up himself. When Diana had called him to tell him that Darren was coming, Ben had practically ripped the apartment door off in his haste to get back to you. He hadn’t wanted to leave you at the plant shop, but Butcher had told Ben, that he had a possible location for Darren, but it came up empty and Ben had been at Butcher's apartment chewing him out for sending him on a fucking wild goose chase.

It only made Ben more angry to allow Darren to speak to you, but he was trying to let you handle it even though he wanted to handle him. But it had brought him an unholy amount of joy to throw Darren in front of that minivan and to watch that creature tear him apart while the final whitish blue pulses of electricity jumped and crackled down the street making the streetlights shower sparks everywhere.

But Ben was more upset that Darren had been able to land a few hits on you before you killed him.

Ben remembered the giant lizard that crawled out of what was left of "Please Don't Die" and felt his lips quirk up into a smile. As much as he hated the entire situation, Ben couldn't help but feel a little surge of pride at what you'd done to your brother. He'd never seen you look so powerful standing there in the street, your eyes glowing a brilliant green, arms outstretched, and the ground trembling around you as the world begged to be unleashed.

Of course he'd been just as surprised as you were at the fact that you'd healed your broken arm. He wasn't sure if you'd noticed it yet, but you looked different too. There weren't as many lines on your face and your hair was more springy, the few silver hairs that Ben had noticed in passing were no longer there.

He wasn't sure what that meant, but there was something that felt suspiciously like hope tingling in his stomach, hope that you weren't as fragile anymore and hope that it meant you wouldn't die.

When Diana had told Ben that her husband had died, he saw the pain in her eyes when she said it, saw her relieving the memory, and for some reason as soon as she said that he was dead, the first thing Ben thought about was you. Ben hadn't considered his inability to age as much in the past, hadn't cared about outliving anyone before. Seeing Countess as an older woman had made him more aware of it. Looking at the woman who he once thought he loved, had showed him what that was like. Not that he had a problem with daring older women, Ben always thought that women really did get better with age, but it was what came next that Ben wasn't fond of.

And for some reason thinking that one day he'd wake up and see the marks of age on your face or one day he'd wake up and he wouldn't be able to annoy you or hear you yell at him made his chest tight.

Ben takes another hit of his blunt. The longer he sat there the more then unnatural feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach, thrumming through his veins, the feeling that he was trying to avoid. He thought that the joint would calm him down, but he found himself jumping at every creak and footstep in the apartment building, perking up each time and hoping that it was you coming home.

He didn't know where you were. You hadn't answered any of his texts or calls and Ben was ashamed at how many times that he had tried to call you.

Get a fucking grip. He'd thought to himself when he typed out another text message to send you, stopping himself from sending it.

But he'd been so desperate to hear from you that he'd actually gone to talk to Annie who seemed upset that she couldn't get ahold of you either. When Hughie and Annie had seen how upset Ben had been, Hughie had laid his hand on Ben's arm and told him not to worry. Ben had yelled at him that he "wasn't fucking worried and to mind his own business" and had shaken off Hughie's comforting hand before stomping out of the shared apartment.

No one else seemed to be as concerned about finding you. Butcher, MM, and Frenchie were all deeply involved in trying to figure out the cover-up for what happened outside the plant shop. By some miracle no one had caught a picture of your face, but there was little they could do about Darren's body that had been strewn across the street. Annie was having to deal with the repercussions at work, trying to handle what the news was calling a "super villain threat."

Personally, Ben thought that since they froze Homelander, the Seven looked weak and Ben believed that the superhero team that represented America shouldn't look weak. Of course before Ben had also thought that they looked like a bunch of pussies and again felt himself sink deeper into the couch when he thought about what his supposed son had become.

He shakes off the feelings he has about it and his thoughts turn back inevitably to you.

Ben wasn't used to thinking about someone as much as he thought of you, but each time he settled back into the apartment and you weren't there he was hyperaware of how quiet it was.

Maybe I should call Diana. She might know where she is.

As soon as Ben thinks that, his phone begins to ring, but Ben doesn't bother to look at who it is before he answers it. 

"Hello?" Ben huffs out a breath of smoke that hangs in the air in front of his face, catching in the bluish light coming from the television.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The voice on the other side of the line yells at him.

"Di?"

"Yes it's me. Who did you think it was? Santa Clause?" Your grandmother snarks.

"Why are you calling me and why the fuck are you so mad? What did I do?" Ben answers slightly annoyed.

As much as you got under his skin, your grandmother had been the same way. He actually thought that it was amusing that even before he figured out that she was your grandmother that he had often compared you to her in his mind. You had the same mannerisms, the same defiant and stubborn attitude that drove Ben up the wall, and you were just as beautiful as she was.

Ben was okay with admitting that he was attracted to you. To him that felt normal, it was the other feelings that he was conflicted about, the ones that he'd never felt before stirring in his chest that made him feel "too emotional" and "woman-like."

Truthfully, Ben was sure that if your grandmother had given him a shot that maybe he would have felt that way about her too. She was the only person that Ben actually trusted in the 80's, the only person that was brave enough to call him out on all his shit. You did that now. But he liked her husband also, so Ben was content with letting her go. He liked how happy that Henry, your grandfather, had made her. He knew that she wasn't happy as a supe and seeing her so happy and in love made Ben feel something that was close to happiness.

And it was seeing the way the two of them were together made Ben wonder if what he had with Countess was the same thing. Because he did have feelings about her that were different, but each time he went to visit Diana and saw your father playing on her lap he felt that there was something missing in his life.

It was the same way that he thought something was missing when you weren't in the apartment, but Ben hadn't realized that yet.

"Because I don't understand what the hell you're doing!" Diana replies and Ben honestly doesn't know why she's angry with him.

"About what?"

"My granddaughter."

Ben sits up the blunt in his fingertips forgotten. "Is she there with you?"

"Yes." Her voice softens for a moment.

Ben relaxes and leans back onto the couch, sighing in relief. "Good.  That's good." Relief swelled in his chest when he thought about you staying with her, safe.

That's what she meant when she said that she wanted to go home. Home is with her grandmother. Ben stopped the next thought before he could go there.

The thought that home wasn't with him.

Ben was trying not to think about that or think about you hating him. He didn't think you did, well, didn't think you did anymore. At first it really was touch and go, but now he was almost eighty percent sure after you'd told him more than once that you weren't afraid of him and didn’t hate him that you sometimes wanted him around.

"No, not good."

"What do you mean? Is she okay?" Ben's grip on the phone tightens so hard that he's sure that he hears the screen cracking.

"No."

"What happened?" Ben's voice is a growl, the feelings of relief evaporating as soon as they had begun to bloom in his chest. He mentally calculated how long it would take him to get to you.

"Her entire life fucking fell apart and where are you? Not here!"

Oh. Ben relaxed a little bit.

"I don't need to be there." He says on an exhale of smoke.

"Yes you do!" Diana presses.

"No, I don't. She a big girl she doesn't need me there, she's-" Ben takes a puff from the joint.

“If you were any denser you’d be a Bundt cake Benjamin!” She says exasperated.

"What the fuck are you talking about doll? I am not-"

“Let me guess." She interrupts and Ben can imagine her tapping her foot. He hated when she did that. "You’re moping around smoking a blunt on the couch probably with a glass of something that you're hoping to numb whatever the hell it is you're feeling."

Ben's eyes shift to the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table that he hadn't touched in a few minutes.

“I’m not fucking moping and stop spying on me!” He snaps back at Diana.

He hated how well she knew him. She was his best friend in the 80's through all the shit, she had seen him at his worst and at his best too many times to count.

“I don’t have to use my powers to know what you’re doing. I know you Ben.”

"Sorry to disappoint you sweetheart.” Ben grits his teeth, temper flaring hot. “But if you know me as well as you fucking say you do then you then you know that this is-“

“You avoiding your feelings by acting aloof and brooding like a fucked up version of Mr. Darcy.” She interrupts.

She certainly hasn't changed.

“I am not avoiding-“

“She needs you here Ben.” Diana stamps her foot, the same way you do when Ben pisses you off, and Ben can hear it.

“She doesn’t need me! She said that she wanted to go home, that she didn’t want to be here with me! I tried to-“ Ben shouts back standing up. It was the exact thing that he'd been thinking for the past twenty four hours, that you didn’t need him and that you didn't want to be any where near him.

That last thought made an uncomfortable sensation prickle in his gut when he thought it, because all it did was remind him of how you acted when the two of you first met, when you didn't want him to live with you and tried your darndest to make him go away.

He didn’t want to and he wasn't sure why that was.

“Try harder.” Diana interrupts him again and frankly it was pissing him off.

Ben clenches his jaw. “I think that you’ve confused me with someone else baby.”

“Don’t you 'baby' me Benjamin! We both know that you’re doing what you always do when things get hard for you.”

“And what’s that?”

“You pretend not to care and shut out everyone who tries to care for you. Not to mention you drown yourself in drugs, booze, and women.”

“She doesn’t care about me!” He spits.

“She does!” Diana snaps back. “And believe it or not she needs you here and she wants you here.”

"But-"

"Ben please." It was the first time that he'd heard Diana sound softer and almost pleading since the conversation started. "Don't do this to her. She's worth more than Countess and all those other women you've fallen into bed with."

"Do you really think I don't know that?" He roars. The answer surprises himself. "Do you think I don't know that she's different?"

Wait what?

"If you know that, then why aren't you here?"

He hesitates.

Everything you said to him the night of the party comes roaring back. You looking beautiful in a dress that made his throat tight, and you telling him that you just wanted to be friends and that you understood that he wasn't the type of guy to have relationships. He didn't understand why it stung a bit when you said that, but it had.

Ben thinks about the week that the two of you spent together after Diana went home, when he tried his best to take care of you, distract you from everything that happened with his movies, and would sit with you and try to make you laugh. He'd never wanted to take care of someone before.

Not to mention he kind of liked the way you laughed. He wouldn’t admit that to anyone, but each time you did, it made him want to laugh too. That had never happened to him before. But he wanted to make you laugh to forget everything that happened with Elijah. His fist clenches when he thinks of exactly what Elijah tried to do to you and it makes him feel so mad that he feels close to spontaneously combusting. Ben might not be the best role model when it came to women, but he couldn’t imagine the type of man who would force himself on someone else.

It had made him angry when he thought that you were suggesting that he would try something when he first moved in, because he wasn't that type of man.

Ben was trying to be better for you. He wasn't admitting that, but he really was trying to be better. He didn't understand why. You'd told him countless times that you didn’t want to be with him, that you wanted to be with someone else like Jake.

Ben frowns when he thinks about the man he'd pulled from the rubble of the shop. And again thinks to himself that you should be with someone different, someone who was a supe and could understand you. Ben had seen how difficult it was for Diana when she was keeping her supe life a secret from your grandfather and he didn't want you to have to do that with someone.

"Because I'm not-" Ben begins to say, but he holds his tongue. It was too honest, too raw, too unlike him to admit this to anyone.

Because I'm not this guy. Because I'm not the one she wants. Because I'm not some knight on a white horse. Because she's everything right with the world and I'm just a fucking asshole who sleeps on her couch.

"Ben." Diana breathes and he can practically hear her pinching the bridge of her nose. "In all the years I've known you, you've never done what you did for her with anyone else. You carried her out of that warehouse, you stayed with her in the hospital even after she woke up, you took care of her when she came home, you protected her from Darren. You can't ignore all those things."

"I'm not ignoring them. She's my friend." The word sours in his mouth as he says it. "And she would have done the same thing for me." He knew it was true.

She's a good person and she wouldn't let me chase her away if any of that shit happened to me and I told her to leave me alone.

"Yes she would. Because she cares about you." Diana sighs.

"She doesn't."

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Because she's told me what she wants!" Ben shouts so loudly he can feel the room shaking. "She wants to be friends-“

"Because she doesn't think that you want a relationship you nitwit!"

"I don't." Ben spits the words before he can stop them, but as he does something tightens at the base of his throat.

"How is it that it's been forty fucking years and you're still able to dance on the grave of my last nerve?"

Ben chuckles. "I missed you too sweetheart."

She sighs into the phone again making it crackle in Ben's ear. "She needs you.” Diana repeats. “And I think you need her too.”

His temper was flaring again, the thoughts that his father pressed into him surging up before he can stop the words. “I don’t need anyone. I’m Sol-“

“If you say that you’re Soldier Boy, I’m going to reach through this phone and slap you silly.” She snaps. “And you do need her, but you’re still just too stubborn to admit it.”

“I-“

“Ben I know that everything that happened with Countess was fucked up, but my granddaughter she-“ Diana pauses before she changes the thought.  “You say that you know she’s different, but right now you’re treating her the same way you treat all those other women.”

“I’m not-“

“My granddaughter has decided you’re important to her and once that’s happened it’s hard to make her let go. You saw the way she was with Darren and that guy was a manipulative asshole. Imagine what she thinks of you.”

“I-“

“Stop making excuses!”

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say!” Ben shouts.

“And I don’t need to! Think what you want Ben but if you’d stop acting so stubborn and so ridiculously blind to what’s right in front of you. I promise that what comes next is worth the risk.”

“Don’t go all fucking mystical on me doll.”

“And don’t go all macho- no feelings asshole on me! So stop being so damn stubborn, get on a plane and get your ass here.” She retorts. “Don’t fuck this up Benjamin because if you do I’ll fuck you up.”

The line goes dead.

Ben sat there for a minute in the silence still holding the phone up to his ear, listening to what your grandmother said to him ring around in his head for a second.

No one ever spoke to him that way. In fact, Ben had never allowed anyone to speak to him the way that she did, well, not until you came along. You reminded him so much of her that it was astounding and he wasn't going to admit that maybe it's why he liked being around you so much.

Ben frowns at what Diana said, thinking about the unusual feelings that were swirling in the pit of his stomach. He felt wrong and the feelings were odd for him. He hadn't felt anything remotely like this ever in his life, not even for Countess.

And although Ben refused to be afraid of anything, the feelings he was having scared him. He didn’t understand and he wasn't sure that he wanted to. He wasn't sure that he wanted to see where this ended up. He felt like he was in too deep.

As much as he wanted to go to you like Diana ordered him to, he wasn't sure that he should. Something was holding him back, digging it's heels in and refusing to budge.

But why do I feel like-

His phone rings and he doesn't look at the caller ID when he picks up, expecting it to be Diana again, yelling at him.

"Di I-"

But it's not Diana.

"Hello Ben. It's nice to hear your voice again." The familiar voice says, sounding calm and collected.

"What the fuck do you want?" Ben snarls.

 "I thought it was time the two of us had a chat.”

A/N: At this point Diana is really just trying to give both Ben and the reader the kick in the pants they need. And yes I know another cliffhanger, but you know you love it. 🤭😉 We are quickly reaching the end of this series, but that means the confession scene is coming and I am so excited about it!!

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know. 😊

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

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@livya99 @cherrygirl444

[burningcheese-merchant]

Sooo, I have a thought from an ask i saw about yandere beasts towards the ancients...

What if the Beasts became yandere towards YOU instead?

Although, the Ancients have the same feeling too, which may lead to high tensions in the air.

What would YOU in that scenario?

-A Self-Aware/Yandere lover Anon

Wait, me? Me specifically? Merchant? The person answering this ask? That's certainly an interesting thought...

If the Beasts became yanderes towards me, then I would fucking panic lol. I don't condone this kind of behavior irl, it's fun to write fictional crazy people but nobody wants to endure ACTUAL crazy people. Stalkers are sick and dangerous and need to be put away, and it's a damn shame it's not taken seriously by law enforcement anywhere (not until it escalates to violence, anyway, unfortunately)

With that said, let's terrorize Merchant for a little bit

IF THE BEASTS ARE STILL JUST COOKIES:

Step on them immediately, they're like 3 inches tall wait, would that work? They have powers and are crazy strong. What can they actually do against humans? Would stepping on them just break my fucking foot?

Send my dog after them no wait, I don't want them to hurt my dog. I love my dog very much. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to him. I'd never forgive myself if I let him try to eat them and he just got turned into flour or something

Pour milk on them ONE OF THEM IS MADE OF MILK ALREADY GODDAMN IT

Hide the box of cookies I like to get from the store, because they probably wouldn't appreciate the fact that I love to eat cookies (they're just like this 🍪 but still)

Try to trap them in the fridge momentarily, hope they don't destroy my nice fridge

Make a deal where they are allowed to live in and explore my house provided they damage nothing and hurt no one

Give them head scratches (especially Spice, his head looks Very Scratchable)

Give them tiny little kisses if they behave themselves (however, if I give one a kiss, I have to give them ALL kisses, or else the other 4 will retaliate against me out of jealousy)

I will also allow them to sit on my shoulders if they behave themselves and don't try to yank on my hair or my ears or something

Wait, do cookies know what sex is? Are they capable of sexual feelings? If so, how do they deal with them? Do they have the... equipment for that? WHAT IF THEY TRY TO HUMP MY FINGERS OR SOMETHING OH GOD-

Contact federal authorities and hope that they believe me when I say superpowered talking cookies are in my house, so they can come take them away and perhaps experiment on them

Probably never sleep again because there's a batch of little satanic cookies in my house that all want to fuck me for some reason (I'm ugly and a normie, wtf did I do to deserve this 💀)

IF THE BEASTS ARE HUMAN:

immediate death

panic x10000000000

I hc Spice as being at least 6'5''/198cm and 200+/90+ lbs/kg so I'm cooked 7 ways to Sunday just with him

Seriously I'm just a short nerd irl. Assuming they still have their powers, my life is literally over

Do everything in my power to convince them all my loved ones are dead so they don't go harm them out of jealousy (ESPECIALLY my SO, God have mercy, I'll probably have to tell him to go hide in his home country for a while)

Try to barricade myself in a church, hope that the "demons cannot set foot on hallowed ground/in God's house" rule applies to them, beg God to save my sorry ass while they try to break in and drag me back out

Can't call the cops because A) stalking and harassment are not taken seriously by police, B) they won't believe me when I say that 5 supervillains are trying to kidnap and marry me, C) by the time they realize I'm telling the truth, they will already have been hanged/put into a coma/beheaded/turned to flour/cut up into salt cubes

I actually only like men irl so I am in deep trouble with Flour and Sugar especially

Try to flee the country (probably won't work but I'll try anyway and hope they don't get too mad about it), hide out in the Yukon or some bumfuck nowhere village in Russia, I'd rather face a polar bear than these guys

Probably still be forced to let them live in my house in exchange for peace and obedience

...I don't know if tiny head scratches and kisses would cover it this time

Hope that they're all possessive enough to only harass me one at a time, instead of... more than one at a time, because that counts as sharing and yanderes don't really like doing that

Try to pit them against each other constantly. If they're too focused on arguing about who I belong to or whatever, then they can't focus on tormenting me

Would like to try to stab or shoot them but idk if conventional weaponry works on them at all

If I HAD TO pick one to say yes to, it would be Burning Spice. He is sexy af. Then, hopefully, I can weaponize this and get him to defend me from the others

IF THE ANCIENTS LIKED ME TOO, BUT WERE NORMAL:

Yay, sanity. I'll tell them to PLEASE get the Beasts away from me. They can sort out whatever they feel towards me later, we've got a bigger problem on our hands than that

COOKIES: I will keep them safe in my house under the same conditions as the Beasts: behave and do not harm anyone or anything

HUMANS: Look, can I just... send them back? How did any of these guys get here, anyway? Can I please just shove them back through the portal or whatever they used to get here? Even if I wasn't taken, I don't think I'd have the strength or patience to put up with anyone's shit. Can we just be friends? I'd love to be friends. I need a mom friend like Hollyberry in my life

If necessary, I am picking Dark Cacao. Seriously, I love my big, strong men. Merchant is a basic bitch at heart lol

IF THE ANCIENTS WERE YANDERES TOO:

Are you fucking kidding me

Am still picking Cacao, fuck all of you

[mixtapedoh]

hi hi this isn’t a request, more of a “i do not have anyone else to scream about this with” BUT ANYWAYSS, idk if you listen to keshi but i was listening to Soft Spot on repeat and I cannot get woozi out of my mind send help. might have to start writing for svt at this rate. anyways back to studying for midterms i go, hope you’ve been well olive!

NOT A REQUEST BUT I CAN'T CONTAIN MYSELF BECAUSE FUCK YEAH YOU GET ITTTTTTTTTTTT.

also, hi jen <3 how are you <3 i have been habitually away from tumblr and that is my fault because i saw this like two weeks ago and was going to listen to the song you sent and then. simply did not. forgive me, forgive me, i am unworthy of such correct headcanons and vibechecks, but thank you for sharing them regardless.

ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀ ꜱᴏꜰᴛ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ .⭒˚.⋆˙⭒.✮

.⭒˚.⋆˙⭒.✮

"so i was just talking to hoshi—" you opened the door to your apartment and set down your keys, tugging off your shoes and already mid conversation, as had become your habit, after moving in with jihoon. you paused for a half second, just long enough to wrestle off your other shoe, and from somewhere deep in the apartment, you heard jihoon's wordless sound of interest. i'm listening. "—and he is somehow under the impression that we are going clubbing with him and the others this friday."

you walked into into the main room, your steps soft and meandering, where jihoon sat on the couch, his guitar next to him and a notebook resting on his lap. he had a pencil twirling in his fingers, and when you caught his eye and asked, "do you know anything about that?" he looked down and pretended to write something.

"yeah, i told him we'd both go." his voice did it's best to feign casual disinterest.

"you told him? you??" the surprise in your voice was giddy and sweet, bubbling like a can of coke just popped, carbonation fizzing.

jihoon still didn't meet your gaze. "you've been saying you need an excuse to wear that new outfit you bought a month ago... and we're spending that night together anyway. i knew you didn't have any scheduling conflicts." he was mumbling this last bit, and the erratic twirling of his pencil did little to hide his nervousness. "two birds, one stone."

you had the buoyancy to laugh, warm as the late afternoon sun coming in through the window. "woozi. you hate clubbing."

he had to look at you, this time. if only to see how your face would melt further into affection and tender admiration. not that he was somehow any better — all the attention made his complexion rosy, and for the life of him, he couldn't wipe off this stupid grin. "but i love you."

"ji!!" the whole of you spun into a whirlwind of motion as the lovesickness hit you square in the chest. you covered your face in embarrassment, and when jihoon laughed, it only brought you somehow closer, now standing above him, your legs brushing the front of the couch. "you can't say that! makes me blush... makes me all stupid in love."

he managed to capture your pinky with his. "it's a good look on you."

you swatted his chest with your free hand, and jihoon pulled you closer, sitting you on his thighs and kissing you deeply. you intertwined your fingers with his, and after breaking away, kiss both of his cheeks. twice. for all that jihoon loves to claim he doesn't understand romance and doesn't believe in all the mushy stuff, he certainly always tries to get it right with you.

you kiss his neck, and jihoon sighs your name contentedly. you smile against his skin before pulling away to ask, "are you really gonna give up our inuyasha rerun night for clubbing with hoshi?"

his face contorts into a playful grimace, and you can't help but laugh at the expression. "that's when loving you becomes the operating part of my promise."

.⭒˚.⋆˙⭒.✮

[avonne-writes]

Can I humbly request Bucky finding out about the interpretation/torture/truth serum at some point at the Stalag (bc there's no way that didn't have some lasting effects on Gale)

Re: this Reverie drabble

Hi dear, thank you for the request 🩷 Yes, there are some lasting effects for sure! This is explored in Reverie, including Bucky's reaction to it. Since this is already in the main fic, I decided to write a little post-war drabble instead. 😊 I will post all of these drabbles to AO3.

Sleep in my dream

The straps come out of nowhere. Leather-brown snakes, slithering forward to bind Gale's arms and feet and chest and neck and tie him down until he can’t take a breath. Their skin is fraying where his struggles rubbed them raw, but they shed it in long, sticky strips that fall away from the rickety metal of the cot like potato peels. His wide-open eyes stare horrified at the door, where the footsteps come closing in, drumroll like his heartbeat when he jumped out of his plane over Bremen. He needs to get out. He can’t stay here, he needs out, he’ll bite through the meat of those snakes and free himself with venom and blood frothing at his mouth if that's what it takes, but he needs to get out!

The straps tear, the sound of a ripcord pulled, his parachute opens but he’s all tangled up, and his halted jump slams him into the side of his fort, his head hurts, but he falls knee first into a funnel, where only darkness, pain and fear await. He screams.

"Jesus Christ!" The first thing he hears as the world starts taking shape again.

Out of a pitch black canvas of shadows, objects emerge. A bedside table. A photograph knocked over. The edge of a bedframe, Gale's trembling hand on smooth oak John chose for them himself. The flutter of their curtains by the window, the faintest lights of dawn, soothing Gale, it’s okay, it’s okay. Snake-straps fattened into the duvet and tangled around Gale's legs. It was just a nightmare he dreamt alone.

His only captor is his own mind.

"Buck, are you okay?" A hand finds his shoulder, pats him down over his arms and chest, then the tender crown of his head. When those fingers find a sore spot, Gale winces and pushes them away. "Did you hurt your head?"

Gale doesn’t reply. A part of him doesn’t know where he is. It still lingers in his nightmare, where the pain in his throat and the tremors in his limbs come from, and he can’t pull it out until his body is back under his control.

With his jaw clenched, he shoves the torn duvet off his legs and stands. His knee throbs but it isn’t broken. No blood oozes from his head. When he rights the photograph, it stays upright, the glass smooth and intact. There’s no damage that cannot be repaired. Stubble tickles his palm where he presses it to John's face, just for a moment, then he pulls away.

The walk to the bathroom is sobering, the cold touch of the tiles under his bare feet a welcome discomfort. The sharp change when he turns on the lights hurts. Gale deserves it. If for nothing else, then for making John worry. Squinting, he splashes water on his face, then looks at himself in the mirror. A wan ghost stares back. His nightmare drained the life out of him.

Sighing, he wipes his face with a towel, then turns the lights off and pads back to bed.

He finds John sitting at the edge of the mattress. The bedside lamp on John's side is on, and there’s a new cover on the duvet to replace the one Gale tore. Fresh pyjamas wait folded on Gale’s pillow.

Still silent, Gale doesn’t look at John. He shrugs off his sweat-soaked clothes and puts on the new ones. He’s grateful that John knows him enough by now not to talk over the quiet. Gale needs it to pull himself together. Something terrible rises in him and he doesn’t want to break the dam.

It's only when Gale comes back from taking the dirty laundry away that John opens his mouth to talk.

"Was it the interrogation again?" His tone is somber and understanding, not impatient like Gale fears sometimes.

Gale hums yes and sits down next to him, with just enough space to feel John's warmth but not touch him. It should be John's choice if he wants to do that. Craving comfort doesn’t make one entitled to it.

When John's arm curls around his back nevertheless, Gale closes his eyes. The terrible thing snaps its jaws like a rabid dog in his heart. John strokes his side. "You’re not there anymore. You’re safe home with me, doll. I won’t let anyone hurt you again."

They're still hurting me, Gale thinks, but he doesn’t want to talk. Words feel too heavy for his tongue to move around them. Pain glues his lips closed tight. Before the war, he didn’t know hard it could be to heal from invisible wounds. The only time he and John truly fought in the past six months since their reunion was when John called what happened to Gale torture. It’s not a word Gale ever wants to hear. He wasn’t tortured. He was interrogated. He’s fine. All he needs is time.

"Please, talk to me." John asks quietly, but Gale shakes his head. Something bitter tries to crawl out of his throat over the aching strain left behind by his scream.

John's hold around him tightens to pull him flush to John's side. John's free hand finds one of Gale's. Warm lips press to Gale's temple, lingering. John's mustache is soft and familiar against his skin.

"Then let's go back to sleep. I'll dream us a summer day. How about that, hm? No darkness. Just light and colours."

The terrible feeling in Gale's chest pushes at his chest, rearranges his bones until he can’t breathe, but when it can't break free, it bursts through his eyes with stinging pain. He raises a hand to cover it but the tears leaking past his eyelashes keep flowing.

"All right." John murmurs. "Just let it out, darling."

"John." Gale chokes through the knot in his throat.

John pulls him into a tighter embrace until Gale’s face is tucked in the crook of his neck. "I love you."

Gale’s breathing catches on a sob, but he tries to hold the rest of them back. It’s pathetic to cry over a nightmare. It's even worse if it's the overwhelming force of love that cracks your heart open to leave you vulnerable.

John strokes his hair. "You don’t have to dream alone again."

Gale sinks deeper into the warmth of John's hug and tries to remind himself of that. It was just a nightmare. They got their connection back. In John's dreams, they've built a new home where their souls can meet. They're safe. They won their peace. One day, all Gale's wounds will heal.

[patheticpeoplesupreme]

Alternate ending where SQH presses the return home button after yelling at MBJ + I somehow turned it into a slightly happier ending(this was supposed to end with SQH being alone till he dies)(bro never moves on)

but in this oneshot, he becomes a part of the Shen family.

Mobei-Jun mourning SQH’s body… imagine…

The moment he presses on the button, he felt his heart sink with the glow surrounding him.

He was going back to his body, which was equivalent to dying. Turning to his icy surroundings, light snow falling onto the tip of his fingers, his knees unbuckle as he fell to the floor.

“I—“

—

He regrets it, he really does. He shoud have just stayed in the other world. There, at least he knows how to escape the life he had, he knows people who would care about him even if he had run away (at least, he hoped so?)

here, there was no one. His parents didn’t care about him, they’d already moved on with new families in their lives. They hadn’t even bat an eye when they found out his body was a coma.

Shang Qinghua shivered in his hospital bed, tears slipping down his cheeks, he couldn’t even let out a sound.

It was cold. It was empty. His arms were bandaged heavily, they’d told him that he had severe burns because of the fact that there was hot water when it happened.

He couldn’t write; Proud Immortal Demon Way had already ended. He… just really…lacked the motivation to ever write again. Without his most passionate fan, without his king or his martial siblings… it’s unbearable. Losing the trust of everyone he knew was heart breaking enough, but they— they had forgiven him for his final moments.

They’d let him back into the sect—! Liu Qingge had grinned at him, after all that. Mu Qingfang allowed him to nap in the medical room whenever things got too hectic—heck! Yue Qingyuan visited his peak for friendly conversation and tea!

Shang Qinghua had given all of that up, and for what???

He didn’t know any more….

Haaa…. His anxiety and fear had gotten the best of him.

There was no Cucumber bro to critique his 3000+ chapter novel, there were no ice kings to force him to stop working in the middle of the night because of his health.

It was just him. Just Luo Meihua. The useless idiot.

A mistake he made, and he will never ever be able to see his family again.

Shen Qingqiu was right, Shang Qinghua was an idiot.

—

“Hey..” A quiet feminine voice pulls him out from the grasp of sleep, his heavy eyes open wearily as he tries to focus on the new figure. It wasn’t one of those nurses. The girl was wearing a very blue casual outfit, blue sweater, blue jeans, and even a blue purse.

….?

He squinted. Did he know her..??

He knew this wasn’t one of his half siblings, they were much younger than he was. “Hh….” He tried hard to say something, but a year of unuse made it hard to say the right words.

“It’s okay! Uhm, you don’t need to speak! I’m sure you’re wondering who I am?”

Shang Qinghua nodded minutely.

“My name is Shen Yang. Do you remember the story you wrote?”

He grimaced, giving her a pained look, he knew by now how shitty it was, please don’t make him talk about it??? I mean, there was some good parts but if he could, he wouldn’t have made A Ding as the sole logistics peak!!!

Wait.. “Shen..?”

She laughs slightly, mistaking his question for something else, “Mm, my brother was Peerless Cucumber, he went into a coma like you did, one year ago. If you knew him, anyway. He hated your novel.”

No wonder she looked familiar—!

But.. huh…? How did she know he was in a coma? How did she know he was here.

He tried to convey that to her with his raised eyebrow.

“We… uhm. Originally, we wanted to personally talk to you, since… we found A—Yuan’s notes in his computer. It was more critiques about the novel,” Shang Qinghua stifled a fond laugh, Ahh, Cucumber bro… “…and so… we found out you were in a coma, just like my brother.”

—

Shen Family: finds out Airplane is in a coma and they visit him once

Shen Yang is also a volunteer at the hospital, just so she can visit Shen Yuan more often. So occasionally, she watches Airplane’s coma body, wondering what kind of person he was to write PIDW

sometimes she writes and reads it out to Shen Yuan because she knows he loved stories, even if they sucked

When Airplane wakes up and they both realise he has no home anymore,

(“Your parents..?”

Shang Qinghua shook his head and laughed bitterly, “it’s not like they visited me at all.”)

So she persuades her parents to let him stay at the house (they refuse at first, like, airplane’s a stranger, and they’re still mourning Shen Yuan)

But eventually, they pittied him and allowed him to stay.

(“I promise I’ll pay you back, thank you so much for your kindness!!!”)

After all his trauma, he becomes the quiet kid, no silly rambles, and without any system forcing him on any missions, he becomes so so antsy, so he just takes on a lot of responsibilities and becomes sick and is super miserable until Shen Family takes an intervention

Eventually they get attached to SQH and help him get therapy. And it doesn’t actually help much, he couldn’t talk about his transmigration trauma at all

BUT he admits the little things, like his parents’ emotional neglect and accidentally mentions something like “I’m used to getting beat up. I’m used to everyone pushing their work onto me.”

Which is concerning in modern society,, like,,, why is he used to getting beat up 3 times a day

Bro just really hates himself

But one day, maybe after a few long months, the light in his eyes return and he gets into a rant again and Shen Yang just remembers his brother, Shen Yuan, and sees him in SQH and

man

Shen Yang shares stories about his brother to SQH

(“He sucked at sewing.” )

( “Shut up, Airplane… Sewing is harder than it looks.” Shen Qingqiu glared at him.)

[kitkatpancakestack]

DMV meetcute lesbians yay! I have been writing about them in an effort to break through this hellish writer's block bc they are fun and nothing hurts in this universe and I love them <3 Anywayyy it's been a bit since I shared some writing so here's a snippet, if you're so inclined:

“I appreciate the thought,” Chloe said, breaking Gabi from her spiral. “You driving me home from the hospital the other day was enough. You don’t—owe me anything.”

“It’s not—uh, whoa! What do you think you’re doing?” She more or less threw the food onto the kitchen table in order to intercept Chloe at the cabinets, where she had attempted to reach for the plates. “You had a pen literally lodged in your chest, and I thought you were gonna die on me, like, three days ago, so maybe let me get that?”

“I can do it.”

“Okay. Humor me then.”

Chloe blew a lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her face. “Beer?”

Alcohol always had the potential to make this evening better or exponentially worse. A gamble she was willing to take. “Yeah, thanks.

Chloe moved to the fridge instead and Gabi grabbed two bowls from the cabinet and went about setting out the various containers of chinese food.

“Thanks,” Gabi said, as an open beer was set down in front of her. Chloe smiled and Gabi tried to ignore the weird flip in her stomach and the dryness in her mouth in favor of sticking to her new life plan, which was to not be a walking disaster. Thus far an utter failure but call her an optimist. “So, uh, feel free to take whatever you want. Looking at it all in front of me I think I went a little overboard. Eyes bigger than my stomach and all that.”

Chloe didn’t say anything, but her posture was loose and relaxed as she dragged the lo mein closer to her. They ate in silence, nothing but din of LA continuing on outside the walls. Objectively it was a fine moment, and for anybody else it may have even been content, but Gabi didn’t think she had ever been fine or content in her entire life. As it was, she sat chewing on her egg roll hoping her cool exterior did not give away the nervous breakdown simmering underneath.

You’re just . . . you’re too freaking much, Gabi! You’re too much, until I actually want to have a legitimate conversation with you, or I need you to tell me something real, and then it’s nothing! Two years together and I still just do not understand you. I think that’s what you really want, is for nobody to know you at all!

“Gabi?”

She jerked, swallowing the egg roll gone soft in her mouth, throat suddenly tight. “Sorry?”

“I asked if you wanted another beer.” Chloe’s mouth was soft and pink and her lips a little spit slick from licking them, and Gabi felt her face go hot. 

“Um.” Girl don’t do it. “Yeah, that would be—thanks.”

She fought the urge to bang her head on the table as Chloe returned to the kitchen. “Listen, Chloe—” she stopped when saw a letter tacked up on the fridge with "alumni" in big blocky letters at the top, the first thing she’d seen in the apartment that had any kind of individuality or hint that an actual person lived inside. “Whoa, are you a dancer?”

Chloe frowned in confusion, but then her gaze snapped to the fridge, and a weird stiffness settled over her features. There one moment and gone the next, though. She smoothed the edges out quickly and seamlessly and settled on a more neutral expression. “Yeah, I—” She laughed, a quick burst of air through her nose, shaking her head. “I graduated from Julliard, actually. No big deal.”

Gabi thought her eyes were about to pop out of her head. “No big— are you shitting me.”

Chloe set the beer down. “No.”

“I just—”

“What?” The word was defensive, biting. Gabi walked back her excitement and dug her nails into her palms to keep herself in check.

“I could see it,” was what she settled on. “Your poise handling me during that driving test was unparalleled.”

Chloe laughed for real and that was the biggest win Gabi had earned in a while. “Yeah, you were pretty bad.”

“Hey, I am aware of my many, many faults.”

“You’re human,” Chloe rebuked. “Is this about that breakup you told me before? I’m sure your ex-girlfriend wasn’t faultless. Anyway, you saved my life, so I’d put you on my team any day.”

Gabi laughed, the sound was hollow even to her own ears. “Thanks, I guess.” She fiddled with the paper label on the beer bottle. “She, uh . . .” Gabi cleared her throat. “I’d texted her, because she’d gone to the store, and we didn’t have any milk and I just wanted to make sure that she got some milk.” A stabbing pain ricocheted through her, anchoring her to that moment, a window of time she never felt like she would be able to leave. “She left her phone on the coffee table, and it lit up, and I just glanced over at it, but she’d changed my name in the phone. It just said, ‘Pandora’s Box.’”

She remembered confronting her ex about it. Still hopeful even during one of the worst moments of her life. Yeah, Gabs, it says Pandora's Box, you know, that thing you open and then it's just, fucking disaster after disaster. Sound familiar?

Chloe’s face was measured, and Gabi felt bad that each time they got together she ended up trauma dumping on her. Jesus, she really was a mess. “I’m sorry, that’s—I didn’t come here too bitch and complain—”

“Gabi, oh my god.” Chloe reached over with her good side and covered Gabi’s hand with her own. It was a little larger than Gabi expected, seeing it up close, but soft and warm, her nails well-manicured where Gabi’s were bitten down to anxious nubs and bleeding all the time. “Didn’t I tell you she was in your rearview now? I didn’t know you back then, I only know you now. It’s okay.” She smiled, a little bigger, genuine. “I like you plenty the way you are.”

If she had been one more beer in she might have started tearing up, but even as her eyes remained dry on the inside she felt soupy and warm and soothed. It would only last as long as the evening, but it had been a while since she felt anything close to this. She clinged to it. She clinged to the slide of Chloe’s hand off her own. She clinged to the freckle perfectly dotted under the jut of her jaw. 

“Thanks for dinner,” Chloe said, rising to her feet.

The buzzing under her skin made her restless, nervous, so she turned to her regular source of comfort, to the knowledge that she could leave, she could always leave, she could always disappear, if things imploded again. 

And so she clung to that, too.