#I was gonna stay up and read for a bit but just seeing the depths this person went to emptied my reserves good NIGHT

[kirinoha]

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[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 27: Take Me Back To The Beginning

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty seven of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 13.3K (I tried to cut it down I promise 😭)

Warnings:  I'm gonna label this one 18+ because it's Soldier Boy. Homelander is a freak AGAIN,  A little bit of Oedipal Complex (It's Homelander the man is a walking Greek Tragedy), Graphic depiction of death, Dark thoughts, References to Past Trauma,  Angst, Cursing, Sexual References, Family Problems- A LOT of family problems, Homophobic comment (It's Soldier Boy), Past Trauma, Death Mentioned, Blood mentioned. Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the 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. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/n: It's that time y'all! The final battle is finally here! This chapter was a doozy to write, there were so many things that needed to be wrapped up, but I really have loved writing this series and I really like how everything came together.

READER POV

The building is just as cold as you remember it, the hallways are silent and empty as if they'd been cleared for this exact moment as the three of you make your way into the depths of Vought Tower.

I wonder if Homelander was the one who did it, or if someone else realized what was coming.

There was an electricity in the air like the coming storm, rolling in front of Ben, Butcher, and you like a dark omen.

Homelander is going to get what is coming to him.

Any remorse you had for him left the moment that he took Lou. There was nothing human to save, nothing left to redeem, the only thing left was the sharpened, cruel creature that Vought created from your own flesh and blood.

And if you were his beginning, you might as well be his end.

Ben was walking beside you, any softness that you'd seen outside the building replaced by the cold calculating mask of Soldier Boy, you knew all too well, but this time you didn't fear his descent into the blaze, you reveled in it. For the first time in years, you were happy to see Soldier Boy again, and this time you knew that Ben was becoming this for you, for Lou, and for Rosemary.

You hoped that this time he wouldn't hold you back from doing what you needed to do as he had earlier. Though he did seem sorry for what happened while the two of you were outside, you weren't sure how eager he was to put it into practice.

Butcher seems to know where he is going, so you fall into step behind him, not concerned as to how Butcher knows exactly where he is headed. He stops outside a massive gilded door across from a rather exhaustive statue of the Seven craved from black marble.

The double doors that lead into the main conference room at Vought Tower are made to look intimidating, but you didn't feel anything but anger and fear. Not fear for yourself, but fear of what Homelander had done to Lou and to Rosemary.

Butcher pushes open the doors with one hand revealing a large room that lacks warmth. The last rays of the setting sun send honeyed light onto the black marble floors, dramatizing Homelander's stoic figure where he stands at the large floor to ceiling wall of windows at the opposite side of the room. His gaze is focused on the city below, like a proud emperor observing his kingdom and everything he owns.

He probably believes he does.

You think to yourself, eyes skating around the edges of the room looking for possible threats, but you don't see any. The wall to your left is lined with monitors and the wall to your right also has some, but instead holds a smaller pair of black double doors.

You didn’t know what kind of tricks Homelander had up his sleeve, but you were preparing yourself for the worst. Of the Seven teammates remaining he was the most formidable. You doubted that the Deep could do anything to you on dry land and you were more than happy to turn him into a tuna roll. You were a little worried about A-Train. He was fast enough to cause a problem, but you didn't know how much. Butcher had told you not to be worried about Hughie's girlfriend Starlight, mentioned that she wouldn’t side with Homelander and that she probably wouldn't be anywhere near Vought Tower. You figured that she'd probably gone to pick up Hughie from the gas station that Butcher had left him at, but you didn't know if she would come take down Homelander.

Honestly you were more worried that she would come for Ben. You'd seen her posts on social media proclaiming Soldier Boy as a terrorist and a villain, which meant that she probably wasn't your biggest fan either. You hoped that she was far away, you didn't want to kill someone who didn't deserve it or rather someone who lashed out against Ben or you because they didn't understand the whole situation.

Butcher also seemed unsure about who would be at Vought, mentioned something in passing about his old team that included the man you'd seen back at Herogasm, but you hadn't seen anyone in the building or sensed that anything unusual was about to happen other than your plan to rip out Homelander's spine and wear it around your neck like a fur boa.

"I remember the first time I stood here." Homelander says without turning around. You could see his pristine reflection in the glass, blonde hair perfectly styled and glowing in the last few wisps of sunlight. "I hadn't seen anything like New York City before, hadn't been around so many people in my entire life." His arms are crossed behind his back, the epitome of control. "They told me it was mine. That this was what I had been bred for my entire life." He glances over his shoulder at you. "I would have been willing to share it with you and dad."

"Where are Lou and Rosemary?" You keep your voice under control.

He ignores you and turns, eyes flicking from Butcher, to Ben, to you. "You are so beautiful. When I imagined what my mother would look like I never imagined someone like you. Maybe I imagined you looking a little more motherly." The feeling of his eyes tracing your figure makes your skin crawl. "But I can see why dad loves you so much. And of course why Noir was obsessed with you."

The mention of Noir makes your blood run cold. How did he know about that? Did Noir tell him?

That was another side of this whole situation that you had considered, you had no idea where Noir was. If he had stayed at the Tower or if he had cut and run when he heard that the rest of his team was being killed one by one. You hoped that it was the first option, trying to hunt him down and find him seemed inconvenient and you'd much rather just settle this now.

"Answer her question." Ben growls, the air around the two of you heating from Ben's newfound powers and the smell of ozone begins to float under your nose. He was trying to hold himself back from stepping in front of you and hiding you behind his body, that much was obvious. You could tell how much he hated how Homelander kept staring at you.

You did too. The guy is creepy enough, does he have to turn this into a Greek Tragedy? Did he see how things ended up for Oedipus?

Homelander only smiles, the same one he had back at Legend's, wide and with too much teeth. The smile of a predator before it catches it's prey, pretty until its teeth latch onto your throat.

He's very confident for someone who has no chance of taking down both of us. Then again, maybe he feels that way because he has the two people in the world who mean everything to me.

You strain your hearing to find Lou and Rosemary, but you can't hear them. There's a low buzz being projected through the building that makes it impossible for you to hear anything else.

Interesting that he's willing to handicap us even if it handicaps him as well.

"Hello William, still standing in my way and feeding them lies about me I see." Homelander tsks his finger as if Butcher is a child.

"Jealous that your dear old dad gets along better with me? Or maybe that your mother doesn't think that I'm as big a twat as you?" Butcher breezes with an easy smile.

Homelander's right eye twitches with Butcher's taunt.

"Sorry mate, does that make you angry? That your parents see me as the son they never had?" Butcher's smile grows.

You take this moment to skate your eyes around the room looking for any evidence of your granddaughter and daughter but you don't see any. Butcher was buying you time, but you didn't know how long it would take for Homelander to be done talking and you were ready to beat the location of your daughter and granddaughter out of him.

"Where are Lou and Rosemary?" Ben shouts again interrupting Butcher. "If you've hurt either of them I swear-"

"Why would I hurt my niece? I'm not a monster. She's fucking four years old." Homelander scoffs.

But hidden in his answer is the possibility that he hurt Rosemary, and it makes your blood run cold.

"We both know that you're capable of that." You respond coldly. "You thought nothing of using her as a human shield earlier."

Homelander presses a hand to his chest as if you've hurt him. "Why mother dearest, how could you say that about your only son?"

"Tell me where they are, and I will consider letting you live." You say without emotion.

Lie.

"There she is." Homelander smirks. "There's the woman I know and love. The one I met at Herogasm had so much ferocity, such rage, and pride. I think you try to hide her behind this. When you act pathetic and human." He gestures to you as if that explains things. "Because you're afraid to embrace it."

"You don't know me-"

"Well. The saying is, like father like son, but-" Homelander's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "The woman I met at Herogasm, she's something special, and exactly like me. Not to mention the woman who killed Stan is just as ferocious, and I'd like to talk to her."

"Keep pissing me off and you're gonna do a little more than talk to her."

Homelander chuckles. "Don't tease me." He has the audacity to wink.

"Don't you fucking look at her that way you sick fuck." Ben growls.

"Why? Aren't pretty things made to be worshipped?" His smirk grows. "And if I had someone like her I sure would worship her."

Ben lunges forward, to wipe the smirk off his face, but when you reach out and grab his arm, he stops. When he turns to look at you he looks like he's ready to snap Homelander in half, a fire blazing behind his eyes that you're not sure if it's because you held him back or because he's upset over what Homelander said.

With your eyes you try to say:

"You can rip him apart after he tells us where Lou and Rosemary are."

You're not sure Ben gets it, but he doesn't advance so you assume he got some form of that.

Deep down you were worried that Homelander had already handed them over to Vought or to the government for some kind of deal. It was an all consuming fear, because yes you would fight tooth and nail to get them back, but it wouldn't be easy if you had to fight the United States government to do it.

"Ashley." Homelander says, but when no one appears he roars the name again, with so much ferocity that it echoes off the walls of the round room, vibrating against the monitors, and into the hallway behind you.

A red-haired woman appears at the black double doors on the right side of the room, looking frazzled and pale. There are pieces of her hair stuck to her fashionable black pantsuit in clumps and she's wearing a pair of crimson heels that clack loudly against the marble floors. She's got a death grip on her phone so tight that you can hear the tension of her tendons in her hand.

You remember seeing her before in the background of an interview on t.v., but never paid much attention to her. Ben looks as confused as you do at her appearance, no doubt waiting for her to start lobbing fireballs or make heads explode, but instead she drags Lou through the doors behind her.

Lou looks the same as she did when Homelander took her, still wearing the same pink polka dot pajamas, except now she's holding the hand of a boy who looks maybe twelve years old with blondish-brown hair that hangs into his eyes that you're assuming is Ryan.

The woman, identified as Ashley disappears as suddenly as she appeared and slams the doors behind her.

Probably had the right idea. This entire room is about to become ground zero. Which is horrifying because now Lou is here.

The amount of relief you feel at the appearance of your granddaughter is overwhelming, fear of her being locked away somewhere evaporating as her eyes fall on you, wide and green.

"Lou." You breathe and cross the room to get to her, ignoring Homelander's gaze that follows your every move. You drop to your knees to give her a hug, but for the first time since you met her, she doesn't hug you back. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?” She's not smiling at you, she's frowning.

"Are you my grandma?"

The question makes you freeze for a moment. Obviously Homelander had told her the truth about everything and you didn't want to lie to her again. You knew this day would come, but you didn't think that she would find out this way. If anything Rosemary and you were going to tell her when she was old enough to understand that it wasn't something she should say in public.

You didn't look like a grandmother, nor did you think that anyone would believe Lou if she said it in public, but it would reveal that you were in fact Indigo.

Then again, we're probably past that. You frown at the thought, but it was true. There was no going back. You'd walked into Vought with no disguise in front of all the cameras and you certainly were going to leave your mark here tonight. You'd be lucky if Vought didn't run the story in the morning:

"Payback Strikes Back Against the Celebrated Seven"

Of course in that story everyone would conveniently forget that Ben and you were also beloved heroes, were also worshipped and elevated in society. Funny how things like that seem to be lost in translation.

"Yes." You reach up to push back her hair and she moves her head away, her dark hair slipping through your fingertips.

"Why did you lie? Lying is mean." She whispers, hurt flashing in her eyes. "Did you not want to be my grandma?" Lou looks down at her feet clad in a pair of teddy bear slippers.

"Oh sweetie." You sigh, tilting her chin up to look at you. "I did. I am. It was just easier this way-"

"Mommy says that lying is bad." Her green eyes are watery, voice quiet.

"I know. It is. But you have to understand it was a grown-up decision and we didn't want you to find out like this." This time she lets you brush her hair back from her face. "And it doesn't mean we love you any less."

Her eyes flick to Ben. Ben had followed you over, to make sure that Homelander didn't attack you when your back was turned.

"You're my grandpa?" Lou sniffles.

"Yeah." Ben forces a tight smile for Lou's sake, but you know that he's thinking that this isn't the place for this.

It isn't.

You could still feel Homelander's eyes against your back and you were trying to fight the shudder of disgust.

"Ryan say hello to your grandparents." Homelander calls from his position by the window, his voice proud and filled with  humor.

"Hello." Ryan smiles, but its hesitant and you’re happy that he’s at least able to read the room. A skill that his father didn't seem to have.

"Hi." You smile back tightly, the same smile that Ben had moments ago.

Meeting Ryan made all of this worse. You hear Homelander's footsteps as he gets closer to you and Ben mirrors his movement to block Homelander narrowing his eyes. You weren't here for a family reunion, you were here to kill Homelander and get your family back, but the thought of killing Ryan's father in front of him made you hesitate. That was something that seemed too cruel to consider, unless if Ryan was somehow shown how monstrous his father was.

Homelander holds his hands up in mock surrender. "I just want to talk this out."

You stand and push Lou behind you, refusing to let Homelander get anywhere near her again. "I thought you didn't want to talk to us anymore." You spit the words.

"I changed my mind." He forces his expression into something that looks like shame. "Maybe I got a little carried away before. But you have to understand I have been waiting to be apart of a family for such a long time and now that I have Ryan I’ve realized how important it is to have one. I'd never felt that kind of love for someone else, the kind of love that drives you to sacrifice whatever you have to save them.” He glances down at Lou who is peeking out from behind your leg at Homelander. "The kind of love you have for Lou."

He speaks like a practiced actor, his hand movements simple, rehearsed, the expressions on his face calm and collected, but you don't believe it for a minute.

"I know you said that I wasn’t your son, but I am." He says, eyes flicking from Ben to you. "I am your blood that's all that matters and now we can be a family. A real family."

"Where is Rosemary?" You ask. Lou hasn't moved from behind you.

"Please. All I'm asking is for a chance-" Homelander says ignoring your question.

"Why should we give you a fucking chance? You kidnapped Lou, you've probably hurt Rosemary or worse!" You could feel the room beginning to shake with the force of your anger, eyes shifting to purple.

"You kidnapped her, Dad?" Ryan asks in surprise.

You look back at where he was standing. Lou was still holding on to his hand and when you'd pushed her behind you, you'd also inadvertently pushed Ryan behind you too.

"I thought you said that Lou wanted to come live with us." Ryan continues looking confused. "And who's Rosemary?"

"He lied." Ben snarls, eyes not leaving Homelander.

"My guess is he does that a lot." You sigh looking at Ryan. "She's Lou's mother, your aunt. She flew after him when he took Lou. You haven't seen her?"

Ryan shakes his head.

Fuck.

Homelander ignores the question again and changes tactics, his blue eyes turning on Ben. "I understand what it's like for your team to betray you, to stab you in the back, to act like you didn't fight together, bleed together and to act like you weren't willing to die for one another. We could be unstoppable together, all of us. A family. Isn't that what you always wanted dad?" Homelander says the last part softly, enticing Ben to make that choice. "I read your file. Everything about what happened to your mother and it wasn't hard to figure out what happened with your father."

Ben's jaw clenches together and you watch his entire body tighten at the mention of his dad.

It was true. Ben had always wanted a family, always wanted someone in his life that cared for him, that he could love and be loved by, and you had made sure in all the years you'd known him that it was you. You were his family just as Ben had become your family and cared for you. It was hard to not be family to one another after all the years you'd spent together, to not care about him the way you did. It wasn't a burden to you to love Ben and wasn’t a burden for you to take up the title of family, because it was simply true.

You reach out and touch Ben's back to let him know that you’re there, feeling his muscles twitch for just a moment beneath your hand, before he glances over his shoulder at you. For just a fraction of a second you see the Soldier Boy façade drop and you see your Ben again, before something hardens in his eyes. The conversation that passes through the glance you share is absolute and quick, but he understands.

Ben takes a step towards Homelander letting your hand fall as he forces a tired sigh. "I'm sorry." He places his hand on Homelander's right shoulder.

You watch Homelander relax under the contact, the expression on his face hurts you. You didn't think it would, but Homelander looks happy and comforted that Ben was here with him. Content that Ben finally gave in.

In some ways you wished that it could be this way, that Homelander was redeemable, and that you could all be a family the way he wanted. But you couldn’t. The blood on his hands was too great and you had to stop him before anyone else got hurt.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't there, sorry that I wasn't able to teach you what I should have father to son." Ben sighs. "I think it would have helped you. I think your mother could have helped you."

"You're here now." Homelander says, looking over Ben shoulder at you, his eyes misty. You force yourself to send him an encouraging smile. "Both of you are." Homelander's voice sticks a little as he says it.

Something deep down breaks when he says that, because it’s the same thing that Ben and you had said to each other outside. As much as you wanted to hate Homelander, to push him away, another part of you was beginning to unravel, the part of you that wanted to accept him as your son. But you couldn’t because he didn't deserve that. Homelander was the monster that Vogelbaum created, there wasn’t a shred of human decency left and that meant Ben and you had to make a hard decision.

You wonder if Ben really did feel that way or if he was just doing this because he knew you wanted him to.

Ben continues to smile at him. "It would have helped you not to become a sniveling weak pussy starved for attention."

Homelander's smile falters. "Weak? But I'm your blood. Your son-"

"I know." You try to ignore the emotion that bleeds into Ben's voice when he says it. "And you're a fucking disappointment."

"What-" Homelander doesn't get the word out before Ben tackles him back away from you and Butcher leaps over the table to help him.

Ryan stiffens behind you as they do this and you look at him. "Dad?" Ryan whispers.

Lou gasps and touches the end of your shirt in fear, watching Homelander fight Butcher and Ben back, his eyes glowing an ominous red.

You open your mouth to say something to her and Ryan, but you feel a sharp pressure on the back of your neck and hear a high pitched snap.  You turn your head to look to your right and see Black Noir standing there, a broken syringe that holds a clear liquid in his right hand. The tip snapped when he had tried to press it into your body, unaware that your newfound power meant that nothing could break your skin.

"Ryan, please take Lou out of here. I don't want her to see this." You say calmly, not looking away from Noir, who lowers the syringe slowly in shock.

"But-" Ryan begins to say.

"Do it now." You order turning your body to face Noir. "Hello Earving. Long time no see."

Noir takes a small step backward realizing his mistake as Ryan pulls Lou to the doors on the other side of the room.

You hear Noir try to form a word, nothing more than an awkward click and a wheezing sound. "Sorry I can't hear you." You smile cruelly at him.

"I’d say you look good but, Ben really fucked you up pretty good didn't he?" You look through the mask with your x-ray vision, seeing just how messed up Noir is underneath. "It's a miracle that you're alive. That any of you got out of there alive."

Noir drops the syringe and pulls a knife, the blade shining in the fluorescent lights.

"You know, if the syringe didn't work, I don't think the knife will either." You begin to say, but he's undeterred.

He lunges forward sweeping the blade in a deadly arch aiming for your neck, but you catch his wrist. “If I had been there you all would have suffered.” You turn his wrist at an awkward angle, listening to the sharp cracking of bone as it snaps and Noir’s wheeze of pain.

Behind you, you could hear the telltale sound of punching and crashing, but you don’t look away from Noir, trusting that Ben and Butcher have it under control.

"Before I killed Countess I had to listen to her go on and on about how proud she was about that day, how proud she was that you all stabbed Ben in the fucking back, and honestly I didn’t mean to kill her. Though I will admit I regret not making it last a little longer. The Twins begged for mercy, tried to tell me that it was a big mistake, that Ben lied to me." You shrug advancing on him. "But Ben doesn't lie to me."

Noir tries again, kicking his foot up to hit your abdomen, but your hand closes on his ankle keeping his leg extended between the two of you.

 "He told me exactly what happened that day." You snarl, shoving Noir back from you so harshly that he lands on the ground. "You all turned on him. And honestly, you got off easy. You're lucky I wasn't there. Do you have any idea what I would have done to you if I had been there?" You smile and let out a low laugh. "Well I guess that doesn't matter, because you’re about to find out."

He scuffles back still on the ground, trying to crawl back, and reaches into his pocket for something. You were expecting a gun or a throwing knife, but instead he pulls out a notepad and a pen and you stop.

"What are you-" You begin to say, but Noir starts frantically writing with his only good hand.

He curls his ruined arm under the notepad to hold it steady as he forms the words on the page, and holds it up for you to see.

Did it for you.

"What?"

Noir drops the pad to write again.

Using you.

"Who?"

Him.

"Ben?"

Noir nods frantically.

Only way.

Wow he is so much worse off than I thought.

Then again, when Ben broke your heart you did think that too for a little bit. That all the years spent together had been a lie and that he was manipulating you and using you because he didn’t want to face the silence alone. It reminded you of the thing your mother shouted at you when you gave Howard back the ring and left home:

“You really think that disappointment will ever love you? Care about you? You are nothing to him, just another plaything. And the day he finally tosses you away, don’t bother coming back here.”

It makes you hesitate again and Noir sees it as an opportunity to write more on his piece of paper.

Set you free.

"You thought that the only way to free me was to send Ben to fucking Russia?"

Noir nods.

"I wasn't some fucking damsel in distress. I wasn't locked up in a tower by some dragon. I wasn't trapped-

You were.

"No I wasn't I chose to be there-"

Not happy.

"I was happy Earving."

I am better for you.

Your jaw snaps together, looking past the mask and into his scarred face. The expression in his eyes has shifted now, to something softer, something vulnerable and earnest. You remember what Stan said about Noir going through your apartment when you weren't there, stealing pieces of your clothing, and stealing your jewelry.

I did everything for you.

Noir reaches into his pocket and pulls out something that glimmers in the light. It takes you a moment to recognize it, but it's your pearl necklace, the one your father gave you when you spent your first birthday away from home. He holds it out to you and you take it from his hand. The beads are just as you remember, maybe a little yellowed with age, but still in good condition. Soft and supple against your fingertips, warmed from where they were in Noir's pocket.

Said I could have you.

"Who?"

Stan.

The name of the man you killed makes your blood run cold and for a minute you feel bad for Noir, feel bad that he believed what Stan said. Stan who told Noir whatever he could into manipulating him to do his bidding.

Stan knew that he was obsessed with me, knew exactly what to say to make sure that Noir would do what he wished. And Noir believed that I was something that Stan could give away. I didn't belong to Stan, didn't belong to anyone but me.

That was the problem with Stan after all, that he thought you were a commodity to be sold. That everyone else in the entire world believed that you were nothing more than a puppet to be used and disposed of whenever they saw fit. It was the same attitude that drove Stan and Vogelbaum to take your genetic material.

But then you left. Tried to find you. Couldn't find you. Why did you hide?

You watched Noir's shoulders slump as if it was painful for him to go through the past forty years not knowing where you were.

Could have helped you.

 A chill of disgust traces its hand down your back. You wondered how long he had been stalking you and wondered how many things he still had from forty years ago. The pearls were quickly icing in your hands, a symbol of the girl you used to be, the one who walked around Philadelphia and saw the world in color, saw the good in people. You knew that she was gone, long gone. Not after everything that you'd been through in the past week, finding out about what Vogelbaum did to you changed you, finding out what happened to Rosemary with Charlie changed you into someone different.

But you didn’t hate who you had become. You glance behind you at where Ben is fighting Homelander, ducking beneath the blows that Homelander tries to land, dancing around him.

I love you.

When your eyes trace over the familiar words and see the earnestness in Noir's eyes behind the mask. A part of you breaks for Noir, understanding that his obsession with you maybe did stem from good intentions but the descent into madness that drove him to do the things he did was dark and consumed him quickly.

"Did you know about Homelander?"

Noir was still sitting on the ground looking up at you and when you ask the question you watch him drop his head to his chest in shame.

Yes.

You move the pearls to your front pocket, considering your next move. "I saved your life before from Ben, not because I loved you but because I didn’t think it was right for him to hurt you. I didn't think that you deserved to lose your life over a film role.” You murmur with a sigh “But maybe if you'd gone about this the right way I would have given you a chance."

Do it now.

"No." You shake your head.

But I love you. I'm here-

The next word is just a scribble now as you fling your hand out and Noir's body flies back into the concrete wall. It cracks around him as you increase the pressure and he begins to fold in on himself.

"If you really loved me Earving, you wouldn't have let them do that to me." Your voice sounds hollow, but you know that it's the truth. “You would have tried harder to find me every day, to tell me what they fucking did.”

“Did try-“ He wheezes in a broken voice, barely audible.

“Should have tried harder.”

"Please-" The word is only a shadow of what it should be, his injuries making it difficult to form it, and through the mask you see a single tear tracing the side of his scared face.

"Ben would have ripped them all apart if he knew what they did. But you didn't, you sat at Stan's table for forty years and did absolutely nothing. You don't get the privilege to beg for mercy. Not after the things you did to Ben, and after the things you kept from me." There’s a purple outline glowing all around him, weaving around his torso. Your hand closes, the subtle glow of purple around his body tightening more and more, his screams sounding more like muffled wheezes, different than the shrieks of pain that Stan released in his final moments. And you continue to close your hand until there's nothing left, but a ball of flesh, tissue, and bone sitting on the ground where Noir used to be. Blood flecks the floor, forming rivulets that run like rivers over the pristine black marble like the roots of a tree.

You take in a breath, trying not to go into the darkness again that surges up with Noir’s death, the same darkness that dragged you under when everything happened with Stan, but you right yourself and turn to look at where Ben is fighting Homelander.

Ben is shaking his head and rising from a pile of debris, while Homelander floats in the air holding Butcher by the throat, looking down at him with a sickening smile.

"Goodbye William." Homelander turns and throws him against the window. It shatters with the force of Butcher's body being thrown against it and his body disappears from view into the air outside of the building.

Homelander turns to look at Ben and you. Ben has a cut on his cheek from Homelander's laser vision and takes a shaky step forward, but he stands proudly, putting himself between Homelander and you.

“Dad why did you do that?" Ryan asks. "Butcher was my friend."

Your gaze flicks to where Ryan and Lou are peeking around the door way that leads to another part of the tower and you're suddenly afraid that Lou saw what you did to Noir, but she's only looking out the shattered window in horror, tears in her little eyes. She liked Butcher, thought that he was funny.

"He was standing in my way son. And we don't let anyone stand in our way do we? Even our friends." Homelander's hair is hanging in his face from the fight, suit ripped away from his chest to reveal the black bodysuit underneath, one of his golden eagle shoulder pads is missing, and he has a prominent bruise on his cheek.  "See isn’t that better. No more Butcher to spread lies about me. Now we can all talk like a family.”

"Wouldn’t be too sure of that you narcissistic cunt." You hear Butcher’s voice say.

Rosemary floats into the room, supporting Butcher with one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders. She's still wearing the exact same thing she was when she followed Homelander, but now the dark sweatpants and t-shirt are ripped and riddled with what look like bullet holes. Rosemary's hair is wild around her face the hair tie that held it long gone, and she has blood flecked on her arms that you’re sure isn’t hers.

But she's there and she's alive.

You weren’t going to ask her what happened, but the wave of relief you have with her appearance obliterates the weight on your shoulders.

“We aren’t a fucking family.” Rosemary grits her teeth together, spitting the words back at Homelander.

"Mommy!" Lou says happily pulling away from Ryan to go towards her mother, who is closer to Homelander than you wanted her to be.

"How did you-" Homelander sputters.

"Get out of that pathetic excuse for a trap?" She snarls, green eyes flashing, looking more like Ben as she touches down in the room, helping Butcher to his feet. "It was easy. But you and I aren't done."

"I think we are." Homelander's eyes glow bright red, letting lose a bolt, it glances off her arm, but Rosemary crashes into him, grabbing him around the wrist to bring him down against the ground so hard that it rattles the other windows in the room.

But as she tries to bring his body against the marble floor again, Homelander breaks free and rises from the ground to fasten his hand around her throat, his eyes still glowing a sharp red that cuts through the room.

"You’re really pathetic." Homelander sighs. "I expected more, but I suppose you have no training or no practice controlling your powers."

She spits in Homelander's face and his gaze turns murderous.

"Let her go." Ben snarls, his chest beginning to glow, and this time you know that he won't stop, that he won't hold back from hitting Homelander full blast.

Homelander ignores Ben, focusing on Rosemary. "You think that you’re more powerful than me? You're not. I am the oldest after all." Homelander's voice is eerily calm. “You are nothing. Insignificant. You waste your life caring for other people and it makes you weak.”

“Leave my mommy alone!” Lou shouts and kicks Homelander in the shin.

Homelander looks down at her, his eyes still glowing.

Oh shit.

“You know, I thought you were cute at first, but you’re really just annoying.” He sighs kicks out with his foot and before you can do anything Lou goes flying out the opening in the window with a blood curdling scream.

“No!” You shout as her body vanishes just as Butcher’s had only seconds ago. You feel your body take off the ground to chase after her, but before you make it out the window, Lou comes soaring back in her little fists clenched tightly at her sides.

“That was mean.” She states indignantly.

Your eyes widen in shock, feet touching back down on the ground. She can FLY?

“Wow. I kinda expected more than you only being able to fly seeing as you’re supposed to be so powerful but I guess-" Homelander begins to say.

Lou waves her hand a purple glow coming from around her fingertips and the large table in the middle of the room jerks off the floor and slams into Homelander like a freight train. A loud “ooof” comes out of his mouth as he drops Rosemary and flies back against the wall of monitors.

“Mommy are you okay?” Lou says hugging her mom tight.

“Yes sweetie.” Rosemary says hugging her back, but even she seems as stunned by this turn of events as you do.

Yes Rosemary had said that Lou was going to develop powers, but you didn’t think it was going to happen like this or this soon. Then again you weren’t well versed in how long it took for supe children to develop them. Rosemary had developed hers when she was one year old, but you were hoping that maybe you had a few years before Lou developed hers.

“How did she do that?” Ben murmurs to you.

“I have no idea. It’s not a power I was born with or Rosemary was born with. Same with the flying-“ You whisper back. “She didn’t touch Rosemary before she did it, but-“ A horrible thought comes flitting into your mind.

The truth was you’d never used your powers around Lou, neither had Rosemary. Lou didn't know that either of you were supes. She’d never had exposure to super powers before today, hadn't watched them on t.v or been around any other supes which meant that she was experiencing all of this for the first time.

And that’s why they’re manifesting right now.

“But what?”

“She saw me use telekinesis to fight Noir. She saw Homelander fly." You murmur.

I receive powers through death, Rosemary through touch, and Lou through sight.

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

She could have limitless power, more than any of us, more than any supe that ever lived. No wonder Charlie was obsessed with her power. All she has to do is see a supe use their powers and-

The fear of Vought and the government comes crashing over you all over again, because you knew that they wouldn't let Lou go free, not when her ability was something like that, something that made her indestructible and unstoppable.

They'd run experiments on her, do whatever it took to try and gain that power for themselves, because who needed an army of supes when there was just one who was able to do anything?

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Ben leans towards you.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.” Ben mutters.

“You can say that again.”

Homelander rises from the ground brushing off his clothes with a snarl on his face eyeing Lou and Rosemary before he finally turns himself towards Ben and you. "I don’t understand why you're doing this."

"Us?" You scoff trying to shake off the shiver of fear that came with the revelation of Lou’s gift. "You’re the one who kidnapped an innocent child and just tried to throw her out a fucking window."

"You should thank me!" He snaps, eyes gleaming darkly in the light. "I unlocked her abilities. Something that neither of you had been able to do. And now she really is growing into her potential." His eyes flick to where Ryan is standing by Butcher. Butcher's hand is on his shoulder. "You really turned into a disappointment too. I tried to do all of that with you and all you did was kill your fucking mother!"

Ryan inhales sharply, and Butcher's hand tightens on his shoulder. "The only disappointment here is you." Butcher's eyes narrow as he stares at Homelander. "Ryan is not a disappointment to me and he wasn't a disappointment to Becca! And it's not his fault what happened to her."

"Oh right Becca." Homelander rolls his eyes. "You've really got to get over her. She wasn't anything special. Practically brainwashed Ryan into believing he wasn't special. When he comes from a practically god-like bloodline. Judging by Lou's powers I'd say that Ryan got the short end of the stick."

"We are not gods." You spit. "Can't you fucking see that? We are what Vought created. We live, we bleed, we die, that's it. Nothing more, nothing less."

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." Homelander looks furious. "You were supposed to be my family, supposed to love me!" He looks from Ryan to Lou to Rosemary and then finally back at Ben and you. "Somebody has to like me best! Someone has to love me! I'm your blood! Your son! Your first born!"

"She's said it before and I'll say it again." Ben states from where he's standing next to you. "You might be our blood, but you're not our son."

The manic look on Homelander's face makes you anxious. He was like a feral animal backed into a corner. He knew that he had lost and you knew that there was no way to tell how he would react to this.

“Do you have any idea what I could do to you?” Homelander’s voice is more of a growl now as he begins to advance on Ben. “I am the most powerful super who ever lived. I am a god. And you are nothing compared to me.”

You step up beside Ben preparing for what comes next. “You’re nothing Homelander. You’re just a sad little boy who never grew up and became a hollow shell of a person that Vought filled with macho bullshit until you turned into a monster.” You say cooly. You were ready to fight him again, to kill him, because you knew he would never stop, that he wouldn’t leave any of you alone unless he was dead.

“I am not a monster!” His eyes are dark. “You think you’re so high and mighty? You’ve killed more people than me and at least I do it quickly. Did you enjoy it?” He smiles wide. “To watch the light fade from their eyes? To crush them into nothing while you sat back and craved their deaths?”

“The people I have killed I have killed to protect my family. I don’t do it for sport.”

“I don’t understand why you won’t just accept me! I’m your son! I’m not some fuck up disappointment! I’m Homelander! The greatest supe who ever lived. You should be proud of me! Proud to be my parents.” His eyes narrow. “Do you have any idea what I could give you? I have built an empire from nothing. Dad, you could be on top again, a household name, respect, power, money, women, anything you wanted and you’re really going to throw all of that away? For her? For them?”

Ben's eyes skate over Lou and Rosemary, and flick to you before he levels his gaze on Homelander once more.

“I have everything I need.” Ben’s voice is low and gruff squeezing your hand tighter in his as he speaks.

You feel your heartbeat stutter for a second, because Ben had said and done the one thing that you never believed that Soldier Boy ever could. After eighty years, Ben had chosen you just as you’d chosen him the night he asked you to give up everything you knew and dive into the unknown with him. And you felt the last shred of apprehension about him staying in your life crumple up and burn, because you knew that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was going to love you and stay with you for the rest of your life. If you weren’t in this situation you were sure that you would be crying.

“Fine. If you don’t wish to be apart of it, then you’ll burn with the others.” His eyes begin to glow bright red as he prepares to charge Ben and you.

You brace your body for the coming fight, dropping Ben's hand.

Everything slows down. Homelander's feet leave the ground as he starts to fly forward to kill you, the heat from Ben's chest burning the air around you, and the beating of your own heart thunderous in your ears as you feel your eyes shift to red.

But the attack never comes.

A blinding flash of golden-orange light hits Homelander in his left side, there's an unmistakable smell of burning flesh and hair, and Homelander's body is knocked off course through the wall full of monitors. There's a scream somewhere and you turn to see Rosemary, kneeling over Lou's body that lies on the ground.

And you understand. The attack didn’t come from Ben, it came from Lou. Lou who saw Ben use his powers, Lou who had the ability to replicate abilities through sight, and Lou who was so little that you were unsure what something like that would do to her.

"Lou." You gasp racing over to where Rosemary is cradling her little body to her chest.

She looks okay, paler than normal, her breathing is uneven, and you can hear the frantic beat of her little heart, but she does not open her eyes.

"Louisa?" Rosemary says, stroking the back of her head, looking into the face of her daughter, using her full name for the first time in years.

She doesn't move, stays limp in her mother's arms.

No. I can't lose Lou. I've lost so much over the years.

Tears spring to your eyes as you fall to your knees, reaching out to touch her arm. Her skin is so warm it almost burns the palm of your hand, but you don't remove it.

"Lou please. Wake up sweetie." You say, voice thick with emotion.

Lou stays as she is.

Ben's hand comes down on your shoulder and you lean into his leg, shuddering as tears begin to trickle down your cheeks.

Rosemary is beside herself, sobs shaking her shoulders, cradling Lou to her chest. "Please don't leave me." You hear Rosemary whisper.

You suddenly flash back to the day on the beach that you took the bullet for Ben, when your blood turned the sand to mud and Ben held you so tight to his chest that it almost hurt, and you thought you heard him say the same words as you felt yourself began to drift off into nothing.

Ben pulls you up against his chest, tucking your head into the hollow of his throat, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he looks down at his daughter and granddaughter. You shudder into his chest, choking back a sob, arms gripping the front of his suit.

"Mommy?" You hear Lou's little voice murmur.

You pull away from Ben's chest to see where Lou is still lying, her eyes blinking open, but it seems like too much effort.

"Yes sweetie?"

"Can we go home now?" Lou says. "I'm tired."

"Whatever you want honey." Rosemary sighs in relief, hugging Lou closer to her.

"I want grandpa to come with us." She breathes into Rosemary's shirt, wrapping her little arms around her mother's neck. "And grandma and Ryan." Lou says the last too so quietly that you don't think that you heard correctly, but she quickly falls asleep.

"Okay." Rosemary's eyes are closed, and she's petting the back of Lou's back.

You exhale, slowing down your breathing, still holding tight to Ben's supe suit. Ben's eyes aren't on you though, they are focused on the giant hole in the side of the building that Homelander disappeared into.

Homelander comes stumbling through holding his head. His supe suit hangs in burned tatters on his shoulders, but his skin looks unscathed. There's a large lump on the side of his temple, and he squints at Ben and you as if he can't recognize you.

"Hello." Homelander says it hesitantly. "Um. I'm sorry I don't know where I am. Do you live here?"

Holy fucking shit.

"Um." You stutter.

"Do you know who I am?" Homelander continues taking a shaky step towards where you're all standing.

"Dad are you okay?" Ryan asks.

Homelander's blue eyes flick to his son. "I'm your dad?"

Butcher is on Homelander before you can stop him, tackling him to the ground and landing a punch against Homelander's nose.

There's a sickening crunching noise and a high pitched wail from Homelander, as the nose breaks beneath Butcher's fist and blood floods down Homelander's face.

He's human now, but he doesn't know who he is. Your eyes skate across where Homelander lays under Butcher until your eyes catch on the lump on his right temple. He has brain damage from when he landed, he hit his head, doesn't remember any of this, any of us, any of who he is.

And before Butcher can land another blow you grab him by the back of the coat and throw him across the room. He checks himself mid-air and lands in a crouch, his coat billowing out behind him like a cape.

"Just hold on for a minute." You say.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He shouts, fist still covered in blood.

What am I doing? The thought was also going around in your head. You had come here to kill Homelander, to make him pay, but seeing him like this, unable to tell who he was or where he was, made this feel wrong. You couldn't put your finger on it, but it felt evil to kill someone who didn't know the reason why they were going to be executed.

"Don't touch him." You say, standing between Butcher and Homelander. Ben and Rosemary are watching you like you're crazy, but you don't let Butcher get close to Homelander.

"Why did you do that?" Homelander cries, holding his gloved hand to his nose to stop the bleeding. Tears are slipping down his cheeks from the pain.

"Ryan give me your jacket please." You hold out your hand for Ryan's red jacket who is looking at his father in total disbelief. "Here." You give it to Homelander. "Tilt your head back and press this to your face."

He does what you say, but he's still watching you like he doesn't completely trust you.

The feeling is mutual.

"You're kidding right? He's still a psychopathic maniac-" Butcher snarls advancing on you. Ben steps forward to stop him.

"I'm not going to let you kill him in front of his child and it-" You glance back at Homelander. "It's different now. He doesn't know who he is, doesn't know why he's here-"

"You don’t think he's fucking faking?" Ben shouts, glaring back at where Homelander is still standing, and for the first time you see genuine fear on Homelander's face.

I mean he is a good actor, but I don’t think that he's acting.

"I don't think he is."

Ben pinches the bridge of his nose. "Look sweetheart I know that he might be having a little bit of memory loss, but he's still Homelander. And I know that he is technically our son but this isn't like starting over. You can't redeem him this way."

"You're my parents?" Homelander asks looking at Ben and you suddenly confused. "But you're so young?"

You ignore him. "I'm not trying to redeem him and I'm not saying that he doesn't deserve to die or that we shouldn't kill him. I just think that we shouldn't kill him now when he's like this."

Ben narrows his eyes at the man who used to be Homelander. You can see the gears working inside of his head as he mulls over your logic, but you knew it meant that you had a shot of convincing him.

"Ben he's human now, you saw Butcher break his nose. He can't fake that-"

"That doesn't matter he's still the same person!" Ben sighs as if you're annoying him. "The same person that hurt Rosemary, the same person who kidnapped Lou."

"I know he's the same person, but it feels wrong to do this, to execute him for something that he can't remember. It's like killing a little kid."

"Fuck." Ben mutters it more to himself than to you as he tries again to see your logic.

Honestly, it hard to see it yourself. You had killed a few people over the years, didn't feel remorse when it came to the safety of your family, but this was different. Homelander had killed people, threatened, and tortured others but he didn't remember it. You hated that it made you guilty when if anyone deserved to die it was him.

"Fine." Ben holds up a hand. "Fine. We help him jog his memory then we kill him."

"Okay, yes that's all I'm asking." You agree.

"Wait a minute, I'm not going to agree to any of that bullshi-" Butcher begins to say, but the large doors at the back of the room open and a group of people walk in.

You recognize Hughie right off the bat, one girl as Starlight from her livestreams, the man from Herogasm who tried to gas Ben that Butcher identified as MM, but the other two are unfamiliar. One is a supe, her black hair straight and hanging around her face, but the other is a man holding a canister of some kind in his right hand with cropped black hair who smells like how Ben used to when he would shoot up and smoke whatever he could get his hands on in the 70's.

Well this is either going to go badly or go badly.

"Who are they?" Homelander says, his voice nasally from where he's holding the jacket to his face.

"What the fuck happened?" Hughie asks, looking around the room at the destruction.

"Well-" Butcher begins to say.

"I turned him human with whatever the fuck is in my chest. You're welcome." Ben lies.

You swallow the lump in the back of your throat. The last thing you wanted was for them to know what Lou was capable of. Rosemary is standing now behind you, holding Lou in her arms who sleeps quietly, curled into her mother.

"But how did you-" Starlight asks.

"I held him down telekinetically." You shrug. "Wasn't that hard."

"Huh." She frowns. "But you didn't kill him?"

"He hit his head." Butcher explains coming to stand beside you. "Can't remember a bloody thing."

"And you believe that?" MM sputters. His eyes haven't left Ben and you know exactly what he's thinking about, the night his grandfather died.

"She does." Butcher nods his head in your direction. "And she doesn't want to kill him if he can't remember why he's a fucking cunt."

MM's eyes flick to you. "Who are you?"

"You're Indigo right? The supe from the 80's who vanished?" Starlight asks.

"Mhmm." You hoped that they weren't here to fight you, but the shiny silver cannister in the shorter man's hand says otherwise. "But all of that doesn't matter now. It was a long time ago. The only thing that matters here is that Homelander is human and that no one died."

Her eyes flick to the ball of flesh in the corner that was Noir then back at you. "No one?"

"No one who didn't deserve it." Ben clarifies gruffly.

You could feel the tension in the air between the group of people standing in front of you. Ben was mirroring your protective stance in front of Rosemary, Lou, and Ryan. You weren't sure what was going to happen, but you didn't want to put them in the line of fire.

"We don't want any trouble, we're just going to take Homelander and leave." You say diplomatically.

"Who's Homelander?" Homelander says still obviously confused. "Is that me?"

Everyone ignores him.

"Wait where are you going to take him?" Hughie asks.

"I have a friend. She knows how to handle supes. She'll find a place for him." Your gaze flicks to the other female supe who hasn't said anything since she walked into the room. You didn't like that you didn't know what her powers are and did not know what to expect if she chose to fight you.

You also hadn't spoken to your would-be friend in over forty years, but you figured that she still was able to pull the same strings she had done in the past for you.

"A friend?" Butcher sounds skeptical.

"Yeah. So if you wouldn't mind letting us through-" You take a step forward preparing to push through the group of people.

MM pulls his gun. "We can't let you do that."

"Why?"

"Well for one Soldier Boy is a terrorist. He's killed people." Starlight's eyes narrow when she looks at Ben. "He's a nuclear bomb with a short fuse, who knows who else will get hurt. Not to mention he's murdered people."

"The only people I murdered are the people from our old team, everyone else was an accident." Ben replies gruffly, looking down the barrel of the gun, unfazed.

"Doesn't matter. It's still murder." The man with the gun states, his eyes narrowing at Ben.

This is not going to go well.

You sigh. You didn't want to kill them, but it was quickly becoming apparent that they weren't going to back down.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way." The other man says in a faintly French accent, the dark haired supe beside him tensing as if preparing to spring.

"And you don't want to fight us." MM narrows his eyes at you.

Ben chuckles under his breath. "Trust me kid, it won't be much of a fight."

He's really not helping his case.

"Oh really?" Starlight's eyes begin to glow a dangerous gold, challenging you to get in her way.

You snort before you can stop yourself. "Your eyes glow, that's cute." You smirk at her, feeling yours shift to bright purple. "Mine do too."

"Annie wait." Hughie says, placing his hand on her arm. "Just let her talk for a minute."

"Really? You want me to listen to this psychopath? You see what she did to Noir-" Starlight, now Annie, gestures back to the blood stained wall and what's left of your old friend.

"If it's any of your business, you would know that he deserved it. And he started it." You say simply. "But it’s not."

"So what? You're telling us to just let you take Homelander?" She spits, eyes still glowing. "And let you leave with Soldier Boy?"

"You really think you can stop us?" Ben takes a step towards Annie, but you hold up your arm to stop him.

"I've honestly had a really bad week and we don't want to fight." You emphasize. "But we will if we have to. And trust me you really don't want that to happen."

"Then come willingly." MM says without lowering his gun.

"You know we can't do that. The last thing I’m going to do is let you lock Soldier Boy up again in some fucking lab. He's been in there long enough.” You reply.

"I'm not going to let you walk away with a ticking time bomb. He's killed people." Annie looks at where Ben is standing slightly to your left.

Like hell you're gonna take him and lock him in a cage.

"He's in control now. And I'll keep him in check."

"You expect us to trust you?" She scoffs. "You, who also have killed who knows how many people over the years."

"Could be worse." You shrug. "But the truth is none of you can stop us, sure maybe you can slow us down for a few minutes, but it won't end well for any of you. And I'd rather not kill any more people today in front of my grandchildren." You raise an eyebrow.

Annie's eyes shift back to where Rosemary is watching her warily, still cuddling Lou to her chest, and you can feel Starlight hesitate for just a second.

"Look Annie, can I call you Annie?" You let your eyes return to their natural color and wave your hand in what you think might be a friendly gesture, but your patience was wearing thin.

"No."

"Annie." You clear your throat. "The things I've done, I've done for my family. I think that maybe you can sympathize with that a little bit. And Soldier Boy well-" You glance at Ben, who is still staring down the barrel of the pistol with a stoic expression. Honestly you knew he was waiting for you to say the word to take down the group of people in front of you. "He's trying to be better and I'm going to help him, but I can't let you put him in a prison cell somewhere or in a cage or a lab."

“I can’t just let you disappear with him.” Starlight’s gaze is firm, unyielding.

You were willing to kill her if that’s what it took, but honestly you were exhausted. Emotionally. Not to mention you didn’t want to have to use the one favor you had but you were going to have to, to make your friend deal with Homelander. You hated owing her favors, they never ended well.

“We won’t disappear.”

“Why should I believe that?”

"You don't have to, but I don’t owe you anything Annie. No explanations, no nothing. Please just be thankful that this is all there is." You look at the faces of the people around her and stop on Hughie, before shifting back to her. "Do you want their blood on your hands? Because I don't. So please let us go and I promise that we won't be a problem."

"You're so sure that it's going to go your way. That you're going to kill all of us. You might be a supe but you don't know that you're going to-" MM begins to say and you finally snap.

Your eyes shift back to bright purple, energy pulsing out from your body as you unlock the anger, rage, betrayal, and hurt you felt the night you almost destroyed Legend's backyard. The bodies of the people standing in front of you lock up as your powers take control, weaving across their limbs, and shrouding them in the warm purple glow from your abilities, forcing them to their knees with their hands behind their backs. The only one you didn’t do this to was Hughie who is looking at you like you're some kind of monster.

And maybe the old you would have thought that too, but the new you wasn't phased.

Annie's body is glowing now, trying to fight the compulsion of your telekinetic abilities, but you know that she can't break it.

"That's how she knows." Ben says with a smirk. You can almost hear pride in his voice.

"Please let them go." Hughie asks you.

"I will. But first we're going to leave. Rosemary, you, Lou, and Ryan go first."

She walks around the people with Ryan in tow who looks back at Butcher for a moment, before he vanishes through the doors. "Ben take Homelander."

"Like fuck I'm going to leave you-" You turn your glowing eyes on him.

"I will be right behind you, now go."

Ben grits his teeth together, waiting another minute, but finally grabs Homelander around the arm and tugs him from the room glaring at you the whole time and muttering something under his breath.

You glance at MM. "I'm sorry for your loss, I am. I know that nothing can make up for what he did and I know that none of you want to believe me when I say this but, he's changed and he's trying to be better." You sigh. "I didn't want it to be like this."

"Wait you're not going to-" Hughie's eyes are wide and you feel Butcher take a step towards you as if he's going to stop you.

"No. Y'all don't deserve that. And I like to think that I'm still a good person. But-" You let out a breath. "I swear on my life that we won't disappear. I swear that I will do my upmost to help him and make sure that no one else gets hurt. And I'm sorry that it turned into this, but I hope that you believe me." Your expression hardens. "Because the next time you come and threaten my family or me again, I won't be forgiving and you won't walk away."

You drop the hold you have on their bodies when you make it to the elevator where your family and Homelander waits for you and you hope that they've chosen not to follow.

"So, what do I owe you for this one?" You ask Grace Mallory, as you stand on the dirt road, surveying the Upstate New York countryside. The fields on either side of the roads were filled with waist high grass that rustled in the wind blowing from the East, wicking the sweat on the back of your neck.

The sun was rising on the horizon and it had taken most of the night to get out of the city to meet her there. It had been a long drive, but the car you'd stolen was working, for now. Rosemary, Lou, and Ryan, were asleep in the back seat and Ben were standing at your side. When Mallory had received your call she didn't sound surprised. You knew that she probably figured you would need her especially with the revelation of Soldier Boy's reappearance. She knew that you had unfinished business with him and that he'd try to find you.

She looks different than she did the last time you saw her years ago. Her hair is now more gray than blonde, pulling free from the severe bun at the back of her head. Her dark colored suit is sharp, pristene, and freshly ironed.

You'd met her in the weeks that followed Ben's supposed death, when Legend and you were planning your disappearance. You didn't know why she helped you make a fake ID and smuggle you out of the city, but she had. The favor you owed her had been collected when Rosemary went off to college, a little supe problem that Mallory's team couldn't handle. Off the books of course. You hadn’t been recognizable and you knew that no one would be able to find you.

"I'll send you my bill." Her smile is tight-lipped, but it's still there. You knew she hated supes, and sometimes you think that she tried to hate you, but you were too much alike.

"The same I'm guessing."

"Maybe." She shrugs watching the other officers escort Homelander into the vehicle.

His nose didn't look much better, it was swollen and purple because no one had set it, and he was wearing a pair of gym shorts and an oversized t-shirt that said "Ask Me About My Cats" on it. It was all you could find at the gas station Ben had stopped at in the middle of nowhere. Technically all of you had to change, especially Rosemary who's clothes were still riddled with holes and with blood splatter. You had a few splashes of blood from Noir, but not nearly as much as her. You knew that the two of you would talk about what happened to her soon, but not right now.

A bird soars overhead and joins another on the power lines hanging above the street, squawking as it settles down.

"Figures. Can't we just call this a favor for an old friend?"

"I guess I should be thanking you. Taking down Homelander, that's pretty impressive. Can't believe Butcher let you walk away with him like that." Mallory says, pressing her lips into a tight line.

Her eyes flick to where Ben is standing beside you. He hadn't said much since he pulled up, still trying to take in everything that had happened last night. You knew she wasn't ecstatic about seeing him again, the last time she saw him she'd told you about after you'd helped her out with her little supe problem and she'd asked you to join her for a beer. You didn't drink it, but you'd sat with her anyway.

When she'd gotten out of the car as you pulled up you'd heard him mutter "is that captain lesbo?" under his breath and it was the first time you'd genuinely laughed since everything happened at Vought tower.

Honestly, you felt kinda heavy on your feet. The stale gas station coffee had done little to boost your energy level and neither had the protein bar that Ben forced you to eat because he said you needed to eat something.

I better get a long vacation after this.

"He wasn't on board, but I convinced him. His team also took some convincing." You frown remembering exactly what you'd had to do to let you walk away, but you didn't feel bad about it. You knew that it was the way things had to be to keep your family safe. "You're not going to tell him about this are you?"

"Maybe. Not for a while though. I'll give him some time to cool down, have a cup of tea, let things settle." Mallory taps a text message on her phone. "It definitely changes things though."

"What does?"

"A cure for being a supe." She eyes Ben for a second. "Word gets out that's not going to be good."

"Believe me I know." You sigh.

You were trying not to think about the revelation of Lou's powers. You hadn't told Mallory that Lou was the one that took down Homelander, nor would you ever. You'd take that to your grave and if Butcher knew what was good for him so would he. You'd destroyed all video evidence on your way out of the Tower, but you were still afraid that someone, somewhere knew something that they shouldn't. Lou had woken up for a little bit on the drive and seemed more like herself after she drank some chocolate milk and ate some dry cereal, than she had when she used her powers earlier.

She just needs to get used to it. We all went through that when we got our powers. But things are never going to be the same though.

Ben nudges your arm with his shoulder as if he's trying to reassure you that he's there and you're not going through this alone. When you glance up at him, you see the corner of his lips twitch into a smile for just a half-second before going back to his stoic expression.

They really aren't going to be the same.

"Don't worry. I'll try to keep it on the down low as long as I can." She shrugs.

Homelander waves once at Ben and you as he is placed into the black Tahoe. The entire trip upstate he had tried to ask more and more questions while Ben drove, but you didn't want to answer him, didn't want to form a bond with him, not when he was acting completely different. You didn't want to get attached, because one day when he remembered who he was and what he had done you were going to kill him.

Ryan hadn't tried to answer his father's questions. You honestly were surprised that he had come with you willingly, he didn't know any of you, but he didn't complain. Plus you'd bought him a pack of state capitals and abbreviations flashcards at the gas station and he'd busied himself with running through the flashcards as fast as he could.

"Do you think he's really forgotten?" Mallory asks you.

"I don't know." You reply honestly. "I think so. But he was backed into a corner, and this may have been his only way out. He didn't like that we weren't accepting him."

"Hmm." Mallory exhales out a breath. "Just makes all of this more difficult I guess."

"It's always difficult." You sigh just as heavily.

"Yeah. Seems like it."

"At least the fucker doesn’t have any powers." Ben adds. "What are you going to do with him anyway?"

"Lock him up, see if they can jog his memory." Mallory examines Homelander as he looks through the darkened windows of the Tahoe at the three of you, still smiling. "I'll let you know if it comes back."

"Thank you Grace."

"Sure. You owe me though."

"I know." You pull absentmindedly on the end of the bright pink shirt that you had to change in to at the gas station, because your other one had Noir's blood on it. "Try to give me a little time first okay?"

"Of course." She reaches out to shake your hand and then shakes Ben's. Mallory turns to walk towards her car, before she stops and turns around. "What about Ryan? You want me to take him off your hands too?"

Ben glances back at the car where Ryan is fast asleep, his head leaning against the window, hair fanning out against the glass. "No. I think he'd be better with us."

"With Homelander the way he is, Ryan should be safe now." You look back at Grace. "Rosemary has an extra bedroom in her apartment, she can take him."

"You sure your cousin can handle a supe with his kind of powers?" Mallory raises an eyebrow referring to Rosemary as your cousin as she always does. Though you believed she knew better and just never said anything.

"Yeah. I think she's got it. Plus Ben and I live in the city too. I have an extra room in my apartment, but I just need to clean it out before he can stay with us. Ryan will be safe and maybe he'll be able to have a normal life." The thought was comforting. You didn't know too much about Ryan's background, but thought that maybe he would benefit from having a normal schedule in his life and have a normal life away from being a supe. Of course you were already thinking about ways Butcher could be in his life. It was obvious how much Butcher cared about him and how much Ryan looked up to Butcher.

You were going to call him when you got back into the city. You also supposed that you could have told him about Mallory, but when you and Mallory started working together you had both decided to keep it to yourself, saw that it was better this way.

"Alright." Mallory turns back to walk towards the car. "See you in ten years." She jokes.

When the car pulls away and drives down the street, Homelander waves at Ben and you again as you stand there leaning against the hood of the SUV you stole to get out of the city. It was easy to steal cars when all you needed to do was telekinetically turn it on.

"You didn't tell me you knew Captain Lesbo." Ben says.

"Don't call her that." You snort. "I owe a lot to her, she helped me get away from Vought."

"Why?"

"No idea." You lean your head against Ben's shoulder, listening to the cawing of the birds and feeling the wind pull and tug at your hair as if trying to ask you to play. It was a nice day, warm, but not too hot.

"Tired?"

"Mhmm."

Ben presses a kiss to the top of your head, holding you closer to him for a few precious seconds, his arm squeezing around your shoulders. "Come on Sweetheart. Let's go home." He murmurs into the top of your head.

"Home?" You murmur looking up into his green eyes, cupping his bearded cheek.

Ben's eyes are bright in the sunshine, the same color they were the day you painted him at the park all those years ago with paint splattered fingers and skirts. But it doesn't feel like any time has passed. It still feels like him and you walking the streets of Philadelphia together with warm pretzels, him crawling through your window to escape the rest of the world, him and you soaking up the sunshine along the bank of a pond, him and you drinking sour beer in a bar and singing all the way home, him and you dancing in a ballroom with the lights twinkling above, and him and you and falling asleep in the same bed bodies entwined. He's still your Ben even after all these years. You knew every smile line, every frown line, every freckle, every dimple, every dip and curve of his handsome face. His arm is still heavy around your shoulders, comforting and familiar.

"I'm already there Ben."

Ben brings his hand up to hold your cheek, the rough pad of his thumb tracing along the curve of your cheekbone. You were more beautiful than he remembered, leaving him breathless each time you smiled at him. His eyes trace the frown lines, the smile lines, the scrunch between your eyebrows, the smile on your face, and down to the parts of you that you believe are imperfections. Someone so familiar to him that he was sure he would never forget, and yet looking at you always felt like the first time, like he was a drowning man and you were the first breath of fresh air. He still saw the pieces of you he knew growing up, the girl whose hair caught fire in the sun when you painted him by a pond that was probably dry and gone, the girl who smiled at him every time he crawled through her window to escape the rest of the world, the girl who refused to let him be alone, the girl who protected him and defended him, the girl who saw all the parts of him he tried to hide from the world, and the girl who made him feel loved for the first time in his life. "Good, because I'm not going anywhere sweetheart, for as long as I live, I promise to be here."

"I'll hold you to that Benjamin."

"Forever?"

"Forever."

A/N: Whew! Big chapter. Lots to take in I know!! But also really fun last moments that I just loved writing. I'm not gonna lie I was tearing up a little bit in that final scene. These characters have just meant so much to me to write. There is one more chapter coming! I know this one kinda felt a little bit like a wrap up, but the Epilogue is coming next. Stay tuned!

As always, thank you so much for reading and for all the love and support! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know! I know that there's only one chapter of the series left, but I will transfer it to the One-shot fics I have planned for them. 😊

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[g-xix]

Pregnant | Harry Lewis

Hey girlies, here's a Harry oneshot for the W2S girls, requested by someone on Wattpad... Ik Whoetoshaw has alr done way longer + more in depth sort of oneshot for this so creds to her ofc. Here's a cute pic of Harry to prepare you tho:

Very fitting!!! Anyways: Content: Pregnancy scare, female hormones, 2k wordcout CW's: Pregnancy scares + mentions of abortion

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

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

The two bright red lines glared up at me angrily. 

I couldn't believe it.

Slapping a hand to my mouth, I felt as though the life around me were distorting, those bright two lines indicating the new life forming in my stomach.

"Y/n? You all alright in there?" Georgia's voice called from outside the bathroom. I felt my hands shaking, I couldn't comprehend it was really true. Tears began burning in the corners of my eyes, distorting the dizzying LED's around me. There was commotion around me- a door slammed open, a familiar face with a look of horror as they looked at me- lay across the bathroom floor- I couldn't tell you what happened in the space of ten minutes, but before I knew it I was sat opposite Georgia in the kitchen- steaming mug of tea in my hands.

She looked at me sombrely, a hot mug in her hands as well.

"So, when are you gonna tell him?" She questioned, raising her mug for a sip. 

"Who?"

"Harry."

Oh God. I had to tell Harry. Boyfriend of five years, best friend, considerable soulmate.

And somehow the thought of telling him still made me pale inside.

We'd never talked about babies before... Pregnancy or even babysat for a friend! And having a baby meant a lot of responsibility we hadn't considered. We both had far too much on our plates. I had a nine-to-five, he had all of his YouTube biz, and we barely even had time or thought for holidays together, anymore.

"Soon." I gulped, palely.

...

"We're going out for drinks tonight- Mia and Faith coming along as well, you wanna come?" Harry mentioned casually,

"Oh, yeah sure I-" I choked on my breath as I remembered, coughing and burning my lungs as I hacked up a bit of inhaled saliva. Harry's hand found my back, slapping it as though he were trying to hit the cough out of me. "O-on other notes, I think I'll pass."

"You're not one to pass on meeting up with the girls, you got a bit extra work?" Harry questioned, face showing concern as he tried to read my expression.

I turned my back to him, facing the fridge to avoid eye contact as I responded dejectly. 

"Yeah." I spoke shortly. I could feel the burning in my lungs slowly sinking in my stomach and sitting like a volcano getting ready to erupt. Every morning, throwing up had been getting worse and worse. It felt as though no matter what I ate (or didn't eat) for dinner, every morning the sickness hit with the same knee-weakening magnitude. I was sure Harry was asleep most mornings when I threw my body over the toilet bowl, given I woke at 3am with the sickening urges. 

And I didn't want him to see me throw up all over the kitchen after missing out on an opportunity to see Faith and Mia again.

"You want me to stay? I don't mind staying in tonight if you wanna spend some time-"

"God's sake, shut up Harry." I snapped "Just go without me- I've never stopped you before, have I." 

An uncomfortable silence settled between us, tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. 

I didn't mean to shout at him- I don't know why I snapped. 

"S-sorry." He softly spoke, voice filled with downcasted sadness. His voice only made my heart ache more, and I turned to try and meet his eyes- babble an apology- but as I turned to try and meet his soothing blue eyes, I was instead met with the door closing behind me.

The pull on my heartstrings making the tears well in my eyes was clearly too close to the stomach- as I felt my inside swirling, bile building in my oesophagus.

Before I knew it I was back at the toilet bowl, hands clasped around the lid with my knuckles going white as I had whole body shakes. My eyes squeezed shut, throat burning as I coughed up residual acid that lingered in my throat, spitting out all that amalgamated, nauseating fluid in my mouth.

And then after the coughs, it all began dawning on me again.

No more going out for drinks.

No more spontaneous planning.

No more irresponsibility.

Those coughs began developing into dry heaves, tears trickling down my cheeks as my breathing became erratic, broken cries and raw sounds coming from a throat I couldn't even believe was my own. 

My body shook with each cry- weak and unstable- and only trembling more as I realised I wasn't just shaking myself. That tiny life form- a consequence of my carelessness- shook with me with each choked sob.

A vibration from my pocket was pulled out with quivering fingers, spotting Georgia's name.

I swiped on on the accept button, lips sealing together as I tried to zone into Georgia's voice.

"Hey girl, you doing alright?"

"M-maybe... Why, has s-something happened?"

"Not really, just wanted to know- have you told Harry yet or are you still-"

I felt that anger building inside me again. It wasn't her fucking problem- easy for her to pressure me- try and advise me and tell me I ought to tell him despite having zero fucking knowledge on what it feels like-

"GEORGIA, FUCK OFF I DON'T NEED THIS SHIT-" I threw the phone out of the bathroom door, hearing it hit one of the bedroom walls. "FUCK. OfF..."

My voice breaking was the last straw before I began losing it hysterically once more. My throat burnt as more acid crept up my oesophagus and found its way into the toilet, tears streaming down my face like a river now- chest rapidly rising and falling as I clutched at my head- everything making me light hearted.

The lights went off after that.

Pulling the pulley down, the lights went off. I didn't want to be seen. I want to see the reflection of a broken woman who I knew was myself. I cried in the dark instead of facing myself and what had happened.

Until I lay back flat against the cool tiles. I had gone through the motions. Dramatic sobs until there was no more liquid and I could only dry heave- to now- simply staring up at the ceiling, eyes tired and breathing steady with the exception of an occasional erratic choke. 

It could have been just a few minutes, or a few hours that I just lay there.

Head empty, stomach empty, body feeling completely light. As though I weren't even alive.

I felt like shit.

I shouldn't have snapped at Harry.

I shouldn't have shouted at Georgia.

I shouldn't have thrown my phone.

I'll tell him when he comes back, Georgia, I spoke internally. Promise. For you.

My mind flicked through the variety of ways he could respond to hearing it. Eventually I filtered it down to a few.

Best case scenario: He's too drunk to understand it and just falls asleep, unable to comprehend what I'd said.

Worst case scenario: He completely sobers up and tells me to leave. Get out, blocks me on everything, does everything in his power to never see me again. 

Of course, there were also a few alternatives:

Maybe he would start packing and get ready to spend the night at a friend's to sober up- not believing what he'd heard.

It was a possibility he might pass out from the news.

Or he could agree to support me, but only if I agree to abort it- him- her- whatever it was.

That final thought was sickening. I couldn't abort it. Of course - I physically could have it aborted... But I couldn't do that to something living. A part of me. I didn't like the thought of something growing inside of me- but that didn't mean I was going to be cruel enough to kill it. No matter how poorly Harry reacted.

A jangle of keys outside the door was enough to get me onto my feet- rushing back into the bedroom as I heard the front door opening.

"Y/n?" His voice called from the front room.

I jumped onto the bed, finding my phone and running my finger over the dent it had left in the wall. That would need fixing as well.

"Y/n? You around?" Harry's voice peeked around the door, finding me sat on the bed. Hands held in lap, phone clasped between shaking fingers. I looked at Harry's head, hair scruffy, and the smile on his face sincere. And the lack of redness in his eyes and cheeks gave me the impression he hadn't drank - or at least he hadn't drank much.

"You don't look like you've gone out." I commented on Harry's appearance. He smiled as he entered the bedroom, shutting his door behind him.

"Decided to skip." He responded, leaning his back against the door, holding a plastic baggie in his hands. 

You should tell him. The voice spoke in my head. I knew I should. And there was not better time than now to tell him. 

"I have something to tell you." "I have something to tell you."

I lowered my head and chucked slightly as the two of us let out laughs, our synchronisation amusing despite the fact it felt as though my heart were going to explode in my chest. 

"I'll go first," Harry offered, though I shook my head.

"No, I want to-"

"I can- I don't mind, I mean-"

"No, seriously, Harry. I've got something more... uhm, important."

I could feel tears welling in my eyes as I went. The dip in the bed and the heavy arm that made its way around my shoulder indicated Harry at my side. I couldn't hold it in as again, I felt a choked sob make its way from my lips.

"I'm pregnant, Harry-"

I cut myself off with another pathetic sob, my head burying into Harry's shoulder as he wrapped his other arm around me, cradling and rocking us back and forth. My head ached as I let myself cry onto his hoodie shoulder, my hands weakly grasping onto the soft material as the second batch of tears for the day slipped down my cheeks.

I wiped my nose, pulling away to look at my boyfriend after the worst of the sobbing was over, my tired red eyes meeting his own pacifying blue ones. 

"I know." He softly spoke, his lips curling up slightly with a small smile as he watched my expression drop to blank slate instantly. 

"W-what?" I stuttered, the words not resonating as I suddenly felt so light it were as though I weren't even there. His eyes curved into little crescents as he giggled. 

"I know, Y/n, I know, I know, I know." I closed my eyes, breathing in and out deeply, wanting to pinch my arm. Was I even awake? 

"Please explain what the hell is happening," I asked with a short laugh, still not really processing what was happening. 

"I figured, Y/n. After all the morning sickness-"

"I thought you were asleep during that?"

"I heard the end of your throwing up and toilet flush in the morning... I feel worse I always woke up too late to help you through it. But I noticed your morning sickness, not coming out to drink, the unusual mood changes..."

"Yeah, sorry for snapping at you." I chuckled, and he just rubbed my back. "So... what now?"

"Well, I went out and I got some things for us- sorry, for you." He pulled the plastic Tesco's bag from the side of the bed, digging through it. "I got you some Häagen-Dazs- the praline flavour because I know it's your favourite- and these flowers because Faith advised to get those on the phone- oh, and also-"

He pulled a fluffy piece of clothing and gestured for me to take it. I couldn't tell what exactly the item was, but as I pulled it apart, I realised it was a tiny little baby one-piece, so small it was barely the side of my head. 

It was perfect. He was perfect. My boyfriend, my baby daddy, My Harold. I felt as though I could cry again, but refrained as I turned to face Harry.

"So you're... okay with having a baby?"

"...Yeah." He began nodding his head in self-support. "We can do this."

"You aren't mad or anything?"

"Mad?" He looked aghast at the thought. "Bloody hell, no! I'm actually kind of... excited."

I couldn't believe it. A laugh fell from my lips, realising there wasn't any problems. That Harry was fine with all of it. And he supported it. Me. We were going to be fine.

"Fuck, I love you Harry."

He connected his lips with mine and I couldn't have felt happier as the fireworks in my stomach exploded, lips curling into a smile as I realised:

Maybe it was all gonna be okay.

-----------

Hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to interact- whether that be a comment, vote or follow! Requests open, feel free to submit what u wanna see... Much love!!

To see more, here's my MASTERLIST

And here's my WATTPAD, with 50+ more oneshots to read

[chemococktailonthehouse]

Nightly Ritual (Lucifer x F!Reader)

Description: Lucifer tended to stay up far later than he should, and he certainly wasn't easy to convince to come to bed. You, however, had a few tricks up your sleeve.

Warnings: Fluff (that's it. that's the whole post), sleepy sleepy reader, no use of Y/N, no beta we die like men

Author's Note: This one has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute now. I've got another one I'm working on and may not finish that has similar vibes with a touch of angst (what can I say, I know what I like). I'm not sure how much Hazbin I'll write for, as I'm not super involved with the fandom at this point. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Word Count: 897

This has been cross-posted on my AO3 account which you can find here.

______________________________________________________________

Lucifer spent many a night in his workshop working and you spent many a night trying to pull him away from said work and into bed. Besides, what was the point of a king-sized bed if there wasn’t a king to share it with? At some point you realized that if you could get him to enter the bedroom the battle was practically won. But how could you consistently make that happen? The answer fell into your lap one night when you dozed off watching him work. He gazed at you fondly for a moment before finally scooping you up and carrying you off to bed. As soon as he deposited you beneath the sheets you pulled him along with you as he let out a surprised umph. And so this dance of yours began. You would fall asleep in his office and he would carry you to bed. It didn’t take him long for him to catch on to your little game, but he couldn’t help but play along.

Most nights you’d pull up a chair to his desk, your head moving from resting in your palm to laying across your arm as you began to drift off. Other time’s you’d sit next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as he tinkered away. Once or twice you even sat in his lap with your head buried in the crook of his neck as he hummed softly in your ear. Tonight though, you unintentionally mixed things up.

Luci heard the door creak open not too long after supper as you padded into the room. He was a bit surprised. Usually you wouldn’t start this song and dance until much later in the evening. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his shoulder as you peered at his current project. Maybe you were just here to watch tonight.

“Whatcha working on?” Though, to be honest, you already knew the answer.

“Oh, just the usual.”

You fell into a comfortable silence. Every now and again you’d ask a question about what he was doing or what tool he was using, to which he would happily answer. After one particularly in depth question he turned to you, “so, you trying to pick up the tools of the trade?”

“How do you know I’m not already an expert?”

“Oh ho ho, I think we both remember what happened last time.”

You swatted at his shoulder playfully, “oh hush you.”

“I’m not the one who almost set the office ablaze,” he raised his eyebrows as he challenged you to retort.

”Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. You should be thankful I took such a tremendous responsibility off your hands.”

“Mhmm,” you could feel his quiet laughter reverberate in his chest. He continued working, humming contently whenever you’d pepper kisses on his cheek. Eventually the frequency of your musings began to slow as he noted your breathing deepening, “you sure you don’t want to come sit in my lap?” While he didn’t want you toppling over, he was reveling in the close contact and would be damned if it ended any time soon.

“Can see what you’re doing better from up here,” the way you mumbled made it evident that sleep was soon to follow.

“You sure you’re not gonna fall asleep back there?”

“Mhmm. ‘m not even that tired.”

He turned and placed a kiss on your cheek, “whatever you say, dear.”

You did, in fact, fall asleep back there. Just as the first soft snore left your lips he felt you begin to slide to the side. He unfurled his wings, keeping you upright until he could turn around and lift you into his arms, “alright missy, let’s get you to bed.” You stirred slightly, lazily reaching an arm over his shoulder to stroke the feathers at the base of his wings as he carried you down the hall. The only clue that he had finally made it to the room was the soft click of the door before he laid you down on the bed. Before you had the chance to pull him down with you he had stepped out of your grasp. You turned to face him, worried that your plan had been unsuccessful this evening, “stay, please.”

“I’ll be right there, just need to slip into something more comfortable.” A few minutes later he climbed under the covers and pulled you to him, the warmth of bare chest pulling you in like a duckling to its mother.

You looped an arm around him once more, tracing your fingers across his back in search of those oh-so-soft wings. You huffed, disappointed to find he had tucked them away, “Luci?”

“Yes dear?”

You rubbed small circles until he finally got the hint. “Ohhh, someone sure is needy tonight, hmm?” His tone was playful, though it could be argued that he found much more satisfaction from wrapping you up in his wings than you did. And you loved when he wrapped you up. You began combing your fingers through his feathers again as he practically purred, “you know if you keep that up I may just have to start coming to bed earlier.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” there was that mumbling again as you began to drift off.

He chuckled, a soft, deep tone, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

[bebebelll]

Pretty girls and flowers | lando norris smau

pairing: lando norris x student!reader warning: cursing, unrealistic if lando did this in real life the girl would absolutely get doxxed

yn_phd good morning by best pals! this month's episode will be out this tuesday. my lovely amazing talented so pretty best friend got two tickets to silverstone so if you're there come say hello👋! the podcast guest will be my old professor from freshman year so put down any questions you have about mary i of england! stay healthy and hydrated ❤️❤️

liked by bestie_n and 8 475

bestie_n omg dont praise me like that im blushing

username can you ask why henry 8 never made a marriage for mary?

username god i dont even like history that much but fuck are vlogs calming and sweet and pretty af

scuderiaferrari it's been a lovely weekend with charles_leclerc and carlossaiz55! P4 and P7 💪 Here is the first taste of the silverstone photo dump!

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 193 847 others

username CHARLES IN P4 CHARLES IN P4 CHARLES IN P4 I REPEAT CHARLIE CHUCK IS IN P4

landonorris whos that?

carlossainz55 its me landonorris no the pretty one charles_leclerc me? landonorris ew no the PRETTY one charles_leclerc ew? i will drive you to the wall

username not charles threatening to send lando into the wall in the comments

username you just fucking know he'd do it too just ask max

username is lando trying to hook up with the girl in the photo?

yn_phd i put on a little bow so i could be the prettiest girl at the bookstore ❤️today i wrote a page, went on a reading binge about chariot racing in ancient rome, had a breakdown and ate pasta.

liked by bestie_n, carlossainz55 and 11 264 others

username is this the girl @ landonorris

username lando the pretty girl is here

username cmon lando shoot your shot

username i mean he'll miss but its gonna be funny username no one trusts the rizz of this man with a shit beard

bestie_n who is lando? where have you people come from?

carlossainz55 i think this is the girl we were with

carlossainz55 she got lost around the track so we took a photo and got a staff member to help her. she was prettier in real life. good luck mr no rizz you need it username NOT CARLOS COMING FOR LANDO

username LANDO NORRIS

username this is the girl? not really seeing it doesnt feel like landos type you know

landonorris haha okay people lets not do this haha its not that funny it is a bit embarrasing hah (my dms are open for pretty girls always)

alex_albon well youre talented in the car at least

landonorris my dad scolded me for getting drunk on twitter so i went to eat their fridge empty. love being home

liked by carlossainz55, yn_phd and 385 749 others

username is he trying to look extra cute and soft to seduce the pretty girl?

username you just googled boyfriend material and tried your best huh

georgerussel63 i though youd chosen to go with the shirtless gym photos?

alex_albon you sent like fifteen different gym pics to the groupchat and then dont choose even one? fuck our help then i guess landonorris shut up shut up shut up

username i can see the pretty girl in the likes though 👀

yn_phd me and the gang went to a lecture about lord byron's sex life on thursday. i had a pretty cute visitor this weekend and even our lord and king aragorn the cat liked him!!

liked by landonorris, bestie_n and 9 736 others

bestie_n it was a lecture about lord byron's reputation and fame and how it effected the romance genre?

yn_phd exactly!

username are we gonna get an episode about THE george gordon byron please say yes

yn_phd my best pal i will rant about the whole geneva squad

username did lando norris actually do it

username did landonorris attend the lecture too?

landonorris ive never been happier that i chose karting and skipped school

yn_phd i have discovered hidden depths in myself. i can cry about essay structures and then drive bumper cars an hour later

liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 11 379 others

landonorris it was just karting babe they were not bumper cars

yn_phd but i crashed so much? landonorris you were great!! i was so proud!! 🧡

username okay but how does this relationship even work? if she doesnt know anything about racing?

yn_phd i tell him everything about the tudor dynasty and he explains to me how the drs works

landonorris use date night to play uno and see whos more competitive (me, i won)

liked by yn_phd, alex_albon and 385 739 others

yn_phd the way i screamed after you gave me those cards

username lando really be gambling with a new relationship

alex_albon poor girl

georgerussell63 remember when we played uno and lando got a +4 card from all of us and he got a mental breakdown alex_albon yeahh we had to take 10min break cause he left for a drive around the block maxverstappen1 the neighbours made a noise complaint too

yn_phd i got him flowers and later we both crash landed on the bowling alley floor

liked by landonorris, bestie_n and 13 847 others

alex_albon oh so this why you called me crying your tits off

maxverstappen1 he called you too?

landonorris pretty girl🧡🧡

yn_phd pretty guy❤️❤️

[haykawas]

✩•̩̩͙*˚ BLOSSOMING LOVE ROUTE – SWEET ENDING

this is one of the possible endings to a story! lost yourself? begin here!

Sweet and soft, was it? Coming right up! – wc : ~ 700.

He asks what you want, yet you don’t need to say a thing. He knows you just want to be held, to feel his touch soothe you and his heartbeat against yours.

Just like that, he pulls you flush against him in a bear-crushing hug, breathing in your scent. He strokes the length of your spine and kisses your forehead, before descending to plant a feathery kiss on your shoulder, – and you can definitely feel him smile against your skin.

“Are you always gonna be this clingy?” You tease, lightly shoving him in an attempt to free yourself from his embrace. “I should just leave you here…” You say, and it’s all an act. You don’t even try to escape his hold, not when you’ve never felt so comfortable in your life. 

Being like this with him feels so real.

It’s precious. It’s different. It’s a breath of fresh air.

Love is swelling your heart like it never has before and you don’t know if you’re fit for this.

“I just want to stay like this for a moment.” He says, and the softness of his voice makes you melt. “Please?” He bats his eyelashes at you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, hiding your smile in his chest.

“Ha! Are you laughing? Did I make you laugh?” Satoru exclaims, and he tries to get you to look at him with a finger under your chin, to no avail. “You’re so in love with me it’s insane.”

“What?” Your head snaps up, “Says you!”

He laughs, “Yeah? And what if I am?”

You’re caught off guard, not expecting this answer, and your cheeks warm up under his scrutinizing gaze. 

“Oh.” You avert your eyes, and wet your lips before answering. “Sorry, there’s already someone I like.”

“And do I know him?” He teases with a grin, enjoying the fact he’s making you all flustered a little too much.

“He’s my best friend.”

“Oh?” His smile grows, “Tell me more.”

“He has long black hair, you might have seen him around. Quite the catch, actually.”

His smile falters and his mouth drops in surprise.

“Oh, now you’ve done it.”

Satoru lunges forward, trapping you between his body and the bed as he starts tickling your sides in a frenzy.

“Ahhh! Sa–Satoru! Please, sto–, stop!” You squeal between breathless giggles, trying to wriggle away from his hands. But he’s strong, and you can’t even move a muscle of him away from you. His fingers dance along your sides, tickling mercilessly, and your jaw starts to hurt from how much you’re laughing.

“I’ll stop if you admit you love me.”

“Okay, fine!” You exclaim, breathless, “Maybe I like you. Just a bit.”

Your eyes widen when you see his hands come closer to your sides once again, and you quickly yell, “Alright, alright! I’m in love with you!”

Satoru’s eyes crinkle, before a wide grin splits across his face, “Really? Well, guess what? I happen to be head over heels with my best friend, too. Lucky you.”

“Suguru will be pleased to hear tha–” You joke, but he cuts you off with a roll of his eyes and the press of his lips against yours.

It’s a passionate, yet tender kiss. Soft and sweet, so much you have to refrain from melting against him. He’s showing you everything through this kiss, promising you all of him and more if you’ll accept him. You feel the sincerity in every gentle press of his lips, every lingering touch of his fingers. Your chest tightens with emotion.

You want to tell him everything. Rip open your chest to show him your heart, the depths of your affection. Express your undying devotion towards this man you love so deeply your heart hurts.

You want to scream. You want to tell him that yes, you’ll have him, now and forever.

And maybe one day, you’ll get to say it to him in a more meaningful place.

Satoru smiles knowingly into the kiss. You don’t have to say anything at all for him to read you like an open book. After all, best friends know best.

You've reached your happily ever after, congratulations! So, was he everything you hoped for? Or.. maybe not? You can always go back to him if you have regrets...

rbs are much appreciated <3

[t3a-tan]

Giant James, tiny Tanner - 12&4 (angst??)

Word Count: 3,107

4. “I’m not scared of you, not really. You’re just… big.” 

12. “I know I must seem big and scary to you, but I don’t mean any harm, promise.”

James and Tanner may have bitten off more than they can chew, but they're trying their best!

From this!

-----

“Are you ready?”

Tanner nodded stiffly, though he kept his eyes focused down towards his brown boots. It had been months since Oliver found him again, and in that time he had been gjven new clothes and all the berries and food and water a borrower could ask for. It was a peaceful and calm life, especially in comparison to how his life had been for the years leading up to being found.

At first he had been so scared and touch-starved, constantly clinging onto his cousin and refusing to leave the burrow. Oliver had taken care of him the whole time; reading stories and singing little songs to help calm him down, making tea when he was cold, treating his wounds, tucking him in— Oliver would sit beside his bed and stroke his hair every night so that Tanner could fall asleep.

Tanner didn't think he would ever feel that kind of love and care again after being separated from his sister.

As time passed, Tanner noticed Oliver mentioning a name often; James. It was a friend of his cousin— but whenever he would ask about him Oliver seemed to avoid the subject… until recently when he confessed that James was a human.

At first the thought frightened Tanner deeply, but as weeks passed and the revelation wasn't as much of a shock, Tanner realised sadly that because Oliver was busy looking after him all the time, he hadn't been able to visit his friend at all. Feeling guilty, he suggested going to James's house— not to meet him himself, but so Oliver could see him. Oliver had agreed, albeit hesitantly.

For three weeks now Tanner had been to the human's house, once each week, and although he had only managed to skittishly introduce himself on the first week, he had interacted with James very minimally for the following two. This week it was different though, because Oliver wasn't going to be there.

He had a job to do; helping a nearby family of borrowers move safely to another residence. He suggested that Tanner could stay with James in the meantime since Tanner was scared of being alone, and although the thought of being alone with a human again was terrifying he had simply smiled and nodded.

So here he was, preparing to properly interact with Oliver's human friend. Alone. Tanner bit his lip nervously before following his cousin out of the wall to where the human was waiting.

“Hey Oliver. Hey Tanner.” James lowered himself down more as he noticed Oliver gesturing for him to do so, before focusing on the kid again. “You're gonna be fine, munchkin. I don't bite.” He assured with a soft smile, seeing how fidgety the boy was. He couldn't exactly blame them— Oliver hadn't gone too in depth about things, but James didn't need exact explanations to know the kid was traumatised.

Tanner nodded slowly and offered a meagre wave, though he held onto Oliver's arm and stayed behind him anyway. He wished he wasn't here doing this, but he didn't have the heart to tell Oliver— and it might hurt James’s feelings, which he didn't want either. He was his cousin's friend after all, no matter how large and scary.

“I expect you to be on your best behaviour James.” Oliver spoke sternly, before turning to face Tanner, patting his head in a comforting manner. He offered a smile and cupped his scarred and burned cheek with his calloused hand. “Remember, James is safe. There's not anyone in the world I would trust more with you, okay?”

Tanner leaned into the touch, placing his own smaller and shakier hand over Oliver's, his fingertips tinted black as if perpetually frostbitten. Oliver always felt sad seeing the difference, but happy at the same time to feel his cousin was alive. He pulled him in gently for a hug before taking a breath, mentally preparing himself to leave and desperately hoping this would go well.

“Alright. I'll be back in a day or two.” And with that, Tanner had been left alone with one of the worst and most horrific predators a borrower could face.

He couldn't bring himself to look at the man no matter how hard he tried; his hands clenched and his shoulders bunched up with discomfort as he shifted his weight from foot to foot on the counter. Say something. I shouldn't be rude… He's Oliver's friend..! Even if he's big and scary and huge and terrifying and— At least it's not as bad as the bad place.

“I know I must seem big and scary to you, but I don’t mean any harm, promise.” James assured, smiling lopsidedly in sympathy for the boy's obviously nervous demeanour. He expected this kind of interaction thanks to the small interactions he had already had with the boy so far. He would never make eye contact and always seemed on the verge of tears if James would get too close. But I'll gain your trust today, I guarantee it!

Tanner bristled slightly in surprise at those words, glancing up very briefly before quickly looking down again. Do humans read minds? I don't think so...

“U-um…” He began, clasping his hands together behind his back to try to stop them from shaking. Tanner managed to force himself to look up at James and smiled sheepishly. “I’m not scared of you, not really. You’re just… big.” He lied.

During his time in the bad place, he had learned that he needed to hide his fear from humans— but he had never been very good at it… Tanner had always struggled with anxiety more than other borrowers, and the trauma had only made it worse. He could lie and pretend he was fine, but it didn't work for very long. I have to be okay, or I'll be a burden to Oliver…

“That's good to hear. It's okay if you're nervous though, munchkin. We'll take things slow…” James stood up slowly to save his knees from the aching and creaking they were doing on the floor. He saw Tanner move back and offered another smile holding his hands in front of him placatingly.

“Sorry, sorry. My knees are getting old, so it's hard for me to stay kneeling for too long.” He hummed, glancing back towards the living room before looking down at the borrower again, pointing a thumb behind him. “How about we move somewhere more comfortable? I'll give you a lift there, don't worry.”

Tanner hesitated at the suggestion. He could talk but being near giant hands? Touching them? That would be difficult. He remembered how Oliver said that if he told James no the human would listen, but even so he couldn't bring himself to actually do it. Ryker had made sure to condition that out of him.

Tanner was crying, trying to fight off the invading giant fingers from touching him as he panicked and sobbed. He could faintly hear Sammy screaming his name from the other room, but she was nowhere to be seen. He was alone.

“You're making this more difficult than needed.” The frustrated scientist who was trying to get him to lie flat let out a huff, before finally managing to pin him down to the cold metal table. Tanner felt sick, his head spinning and chest huffing, trying desperately to sit up or move but not even being able to budge.

“Shhh…calm down…” He shut his eyes tightly and trembled as he felt a finger start to stroke his head. Tanner kept trying to fight back, squirming fruitlessly— no matter how much he wanted some form of comfort, he knew whose hands were on him and that only made his skin crawl.

The scientist tutted at his continued resistance, before pressing down on Tanner's chest ever so slightly, enough that his eyes opened wide as he started struggling to breathe.

“I’ll give you some advice…” Ryker began. “It would take me no effort to take your life. It would take you all of your effort to accomplish nothing…” As he spoke he continued to pet the boy's head, looking down at him with a mix of pity and disgust. Tanner shuddered under that cold unblinking gaze, unable to do anything but hope he'll be able to breathe again soon. Ryker hummed.

“Just be good and stop wasting your energy.” The finger soon released from his chest, allowing Tanner to breathe again as he desperately sucked in the air he had just been deprived of. He trembled, staring up at the scientist with a watery gaze.

“Would you rather be a good pet and get comfort from your owner, or a bad pet who gets hurt instead? Either way you're a pet now, so I'd suggest you take the more bearable option.” Tanner hesitated before giving up, no longer fighting and just crying softly to himself, listening to the still present but distant calling from his sister who was no doubt making her hands bloody trying to get out of the cage to reach him. He couldn't help it… he wasn't like her. He was so scared.

He would be a good pet.

Tanner smiled again and nodded, clasping his hands tighter and feeling his muscles aching from the tensity. His head was screaming at him to just say no, but he couldn't help it— the idea of refusing or fighting back now only reminded him of the crushing sensation he would receive back in the bad place, taking his breath away. No. He would rather be good and feeling uncomfortable rather than feel like that again.

He watched the human perk up at his agreement, and couldn't help but look away again, casting his blackened gaze towards the ground. Oliver said it was safe and he was trying hard to believe that; James hadn't done anything bad any of the times he came over, but being alone it felt different… Tanner didn't have much of a voice— depending on Oliver to point out when he was uncomfortable, otherwise he couldn't say a word.

“Alright. Hop on then, munchkin.” James was relieved that the kid was willing to trust him. Oliver had acted like this would be a lot more difficult than it was turning out to be, but he was already making physical contact! He placed his hand down palm up on the counter, laying his fingers flat and trying not to twitch or get too close.

He couldn't help but be in awe watching the tiny kid slowly climb onto his palm. He had held Oliver so many times but this felt different… This was a sign of trust, and even if this ended up being the only physical contact Tanner allowed he would be happy with that.

Carefully, he lifted his hand up to chest level before walking into the living room and sitting down on the sofa. He kept his movements slow and small to avoid jostling the boy around too much. After sitting he hummed, debating whether to ask or not…

“Is it okay if I keep holding you..? Just whilst we sit. It might help you get more used to me anyway.” He asked with a sheepish smile.

“I don't want anymore crying from you when I pick you up. You'll get used to it…”

Tanner jolted at the random flashback, and he couldn't help but feel sad that James even asked. He really wanted to be put down… he could feel the tension in his body and the fear in his chest— his veins buzzing with adrenaline. Despite himself, he nodded again, bringing his knees to his chest and trying to keep his trembling contained.

James frowned, bringing the boy up closer to eye level.

“Um… you don't look okay with it…” He bit his lip, unsure if he should trust that Tanner was just nervous and the nod was genuine, or if he should consider that the nod was not genuine for some reason… He's always said when he's uncomfortable before! Well… Oliver says, and then he agrees. But why would he lie? “I'll…put you down.” Just in case.

Tanner seemed alarmed by his words, looking up at him with wide eyes. James was struck again by his odd appearance— he had seen it before and Oliver had described it, but now that he was holding the borrower so close he couldn't help but find it…disturbing. But the more surprising fact was how the black tint in his fingers and under his eyes seemed to be spreading.

“I-I'm sorry… I didn't m-mean to look scared, I promise— I'm really fine here..!” He mistook James's reaction as disappointment, and though part of him was sure James wouldn't hurt him like Ryker, most of him was scared of the possibility. He had no one around to defend him after all— and he had to be good until Oliver got back.

“Hey hey, woah. It's okay if you are scared, alright? Chill…” James let out a small sigh, unsure what to do. He wasn't used to dealing with traumatised tiny people— so he didn't know whether to listen to the boy or insist. He paused briefly to consider his actions more carefully before lowering his hand to the blanketed arm of the sofa. “Here. Step off if you want, or stay on if you want. I'll just stay still, okay?”

Tanner's head felt like it was in a whirlpool, spinning and spiralling more and more at the decision. Is it a test? No, this is Oliver's friend…he seems nice. But Ryker said I'm naive too! If it is a test I can't risk it… Tanner could feel tears quickly gathering in his eyes the more overwhelmed he felt by the situation, and as much as he tried to keep it in, James took notice.

“H-hey, Tanner.. like I said, it's your choice. Am I doing something wrong..?” James was also starting to get nervous as he realised that he genuinely didn't understand what was happening or why it was happening, assuming he must have done something bad. Tanner shook his head again, burying his head in his knees and letting out a small whimper.

“I-it's really hard…being near a human…” He admitted softly; so quiet that James had to lean in to actually hear him properly. His brows furrowed in concern at those words, going to comfort the boy and assure him again that he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to, only for Tanner to continue.

“Y-you…you seem nice… I-I know you're friends with Oliver…and he's super super nice— b-but I um… I just…” Tanner’s fingers curled in to grab at the bottom of his shoes, feeling the stitching in an attempt to keep himself grounded. It was hard to explain his feelings and emotions over the situation, and even harder to explain why he was like this. He trailed off for a moment, trying to think of the words to say.

“I'm… I always have to..b-be a good pet… and I— I know that Oliver said you aren't like the bad humans, but I can't help it. I-I promise I'm trying, but it's hard…” Tanner hiccuped, feeling the black liquid starting to drip from his eyes and stain his cheeks. “I'm sorry… I'm trying to be good…”

James was taken aback by the sudden confession, not really understanding what Tanner meant but seeing that he was crying…and he heard the mention of being a pet? What? What does he mean he has to be a good pet? Does he think that's what I see him as..?

“Woah, munchkin. That's…no. You are not a pet. And you don't have to be good… I want you to genuinely trust me, not to force yourself to do stuff when I ask. If you're uncomfortable, you can say that to me.” James was quick to correct him, now suddenly finding the tiny weight in his palm made him feel very uneasy. He doesn't want to be there, so why is he still forcing it?

“I-I can't say that…” Tanner responded, and the confusion that gave James made him feel a little frustrated— but not with the boy himself.

“You can. I'm not gonna—”

“No, you don't understand, I can't…!” He insisted, now shaking so much that James could feel it. He could see the boy's skin was getting darker by the second, some of the black spreading through his hair too. The sight was concerning and James didn't know what to do about it, so he just listened for the time being, trying to understand.

“I hear his voice…a-and I feel his fingers pushing on me— and…and his eyes looking at me…and then I can't say no…I-I can't do it… I-I know he's not here but he's still hurting me…” Tanner didn't know the exact terminology of a flashback, so he tried to describe how he felt as best as he could, as frightening as it felt to confess this to a human.

That made things click for James, recognizing what Tanner was describing as a flashback and slowly but surely connecting the dots.

“Oh. Oh… Okay.” The concern was obvious in his expression, and he rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to process everything he had just learned. “Let's take some deep breaths, alright? I'm not gonna let the man hurt you. Ready? In…..and out…”

Tanner began to calm down as he followed James's instructions, and soon his body was returning to normal; the black only remained under his eyes, at the tips of his fingers, and on his actual eyes. James managed to get the boy to settle on a blanket instead of staying on his hand, and he hummed a tune he heard Oliver humming to himself all the time, hoping the familiarity would make the boy feel safer.

Soon enough the boy had fallen asleep, the exhaustion from his earlier panic catching up to him the moment the tension left his body. James stayed where he was, watching for a few more moments, content to see him actually relaxing now. As soon as Oliver returned he would have to let him know what he heard because of how concerning it was— and Oliver was definitely more qualified than him to deal with it…

But until he got back James was determined to make Tanner feel as comfortable as possible. And until he was sure that the trust was genuine he wouldn't touch the kid without being asked by Tanner himself. James smiled again at the sight of the child cuddling onto the folds of the giant blanket.

“Get some rest, munchkin…”

[highdreaming]

Preferences: You send a nude before a game

💢 All the works are pure fictions, for entertainment purposes only so please, read it at your own will.

Find more at: Masterlist

» Pedri + Gavi + João Félix

AN: Please like, reblog and give me feedback!

Also angst ideas.

Btw, João is looking extra good in the picture, I swear.

--

Pedri 

Pedri never checks his phone before games as he tries the maximum to focus on the game.

You’re gonna be a bit surprised that he shows you no reaction when he enters the field, his face stone cold, not even the slightest evidence of being riled up over what you sent him. 

You do get a bit disappointed at that, but soon forget about it once the game starts. 

It’s only after the game ends that he sees the revealing photo you sent and a huge smirk fills his face, the post-game adrenaline making him feel horny for you, the huge win they had also helping in making him more relaxed. 

Pedri won’t waste time, showering and getting ready in a hurry before going to seek you. The huge smirk that he has on his face as he ardently kisses you proves that he’s now finally seen the photo, butterflies flying in your belly as he whispers into your ear how much he liked the photo and that he can’t wait to get home to give you a reward. 

“You were looking so pretty for me, just feel how hard I am for you. This is all because of you and now you deserve to get railed, baby. Just wait until we get home, pretty girl.” 

Gavi

Gavi is shocked. Like, actual shock. 

His brain freezing from the moment he saw the explicit photo you sent him half an hour before the game started. 

He chokes, trips on his own feet and mumbles some dubious excuse that no one believes and actually tries to leave the changing room to find you, only to be stopped by an incredulous Xavi who doesn’t let him out of his sight until the game starts. 

When Gavi is out on the field, his eyes keep glancing at you, so far away from him. His mind twisted in a blur of thoughts between the game and what he’s gonna do when he’s finally alone with you.

But right now, he just wants this game to be over. 

The amount of fouls he gets is impressive, but Gavi makes it up by scoring a couple of goals.

When the game is done, the boy runs so fast to get changed and rushes to get to you. 

“I-You-We… Can we go home now? I don’t think I can wait much longer. You have no idea what type of thoughts I was having during the game, all because of you.”

João Félix

João carefully scans the picture, eyes analyzing each detail of your body, his cock jumping to life as he watches you in pretty lingerie. And the worse thing is that he can’t even have a quickie cause you’re at home, watching the game from afar. 

So that’s how you want to play? If you think you can play dirty and get away with it, you’re so wrong. 

In return, you’ll get an even naughtier photo of João, his shirtless body on display with his shorts low enough to tease you with the delicious sight. It’s the least he can do to make you equally horny.

At least now you’ll both suffer until he finally gets home and then, oh then you’ll see what you deserve for being such a tease. He’ll try his best to focus on the game, but you’ll stay in the depths of his mind, plaguing him. 

But João wants to tease you until you’re extra needy for him. He’ll take his sweet time getting showered and ready until he’s finally ready to go home, and even then, he’ll send you pictures of his wet body, teasing you. 

That’s the least you deserve after being so naughty. 

“Look at you, all wet and needy for my cock now. The tables have really turned on you, huh?”

---

[veritable-trash]

maybe it's never truly over

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader(nickname used but no descriptors!)

Summary: It's been a long time since you've seen each other. For you it hasn't been long enough but for Miguel things are a bit more complicated.

Word Count: 1K

Rating: E - for eventual smut, friends to enemies to friends to lovers i think??? this chapter is tame just seeing if people are interested in what i might decide to cook up <3 :)

A/N: alright alright alright like literally everyone i watched spiderverse and have now descended into the black hole of being obsessed with every character from that movie but this one right here????? yes yes i like him very much. anyways wrote this for fun think i might try another series and see what comes of it. this is not sticking to any canon(lol miguel would be PISSED but this is my multiverse bitch!) because there's such a depth to his character that i want to just play with in this story potentially.

anyways if you like this little intro and want to read more and see where these two little weirdos spin their way off to reblog, send me thirsty thoughts about this man, comment to your heart's content about how his body is shaped like a dorito and i want to eat HIM!

also @dameronscopilot wrote an absolute SPICED piece for Miguel so go read that now if anyone sees this!!!!!

enjoy :)))))))))

masterlist weeeeeeeee

~~~~~

There was something different about today. 

Air shimmering like it was about to crystallize and crack at any given moment. 

Like the world was gonna stop all of a sudden and dissolve into some weird cosmic puddle. 

But not for you. Never for you because even when things felt like they were about to snap, crackle, pop, your life tended to stay a bit boring. It had been a long, long time since you’d felt any kind of twinkle in your life, and you didn’t mind it. The last time things had fizzled like that you’d been left a bit shattered yourself. 

Even still, the niggle at the nape of your neck wouldn’t let up. even the sidewalk seemed to wobble under your feet as you traversed the packed streets of Nueva York. Your palms can’t help but start sweating, heart kicking up its pace as the people around you seem to crowd and crowd and crowd. 

Alley. You need to find an alley and fucking breath. 

You turn in fast on the tight corridor, the smell of garbage helping to clear the dizziness in your head but it still isn’t gone. The feelings still there. Why won’t it just fucking leave you-

“Lyla I got it. Just check the other dimensions and report back to me I haven’t seen any signs of them here.”

And now you know why this an entire day has been like walking through jelly.

Because the second Miguel O’Hara turns around and sees you, everything absolutely shatters.

It’s been years, maybe over a decade since he’s seen you, but you’ve seen plenty of him. The magazines, the news, online, every god damn street corner of this godforsaken city conveniently reminds you of this Dorito-shaped dip shit man. 

Nothing changes in his demeanor, to an unseasoned eye, but you remember Miguel from before. Gabe’s older brother Miguel, mama’s boy Miguel, your best friend Miguel, and his eyes can’t hide the things you know deep in his heart. 

You don’t even know what to say. There’s nothing left in your brain, just him, still staring, but now from new heights, with new scars, and it scares the shit out of you.

And pisses you the fuck off.

“So what? You go radio silent for over ten years and now you’re gonna stalk me in some alley like creep? Very on brand Miguel but I thought you would have fucking grown up by now.”

His shoulders tense and you can’t stop the way your lips curve as you sense you’ve gotten to him, even if only a little. But then he’s turning away, slowly walking down the alley towards the brick wall and you realize he’s not going to say anything to you. That he’s going to just leave again without a single fucking word.

“Miguel if you don’t turn the fuck around right now and say something to me I will beat the shit out of you I swear to god. I know your weak spots don’t make me fucking use it!”

(it’s just under his ribs, but only on the right side)

“Bichito, pleas-“

“Don’t you dare fucking call me that. Don’t you fucking dare. You lost the right to call me that when you disappeared on me. Fuck you Miguel, honestly I don’t even have anything left to say to you just fuck off.”

This time his face face does crumple just a little bit and you preen at his pain. Suck it into your lungs as the boy who trampled your heart finally gets a taste of how you bled. 

You turn back to the chaos of the street and throw yourself into the people, away from Miguel and all the bullshit, earth shattering happening behind you. It’s been a long time since you’ve needed Miguel O’Hara and it’ll be an even longer time before you come back around to his antics.

Probably never.

~~~~~

He fucked up. 

Miguel didn’t know how he’d dropped the ball this hard, but he’d fucked up big time and for once it didn’t involve some stupid fucking multiverse drama. 

It involved you. 

You, the girl from down the block who used to wrestle Gabriel and make flower crowns out of the flowers growing between the cracks in the concrete. 

You, the girl who stayed up till the sky started to turn pink again listening to him rant on and on about his shitty dad and his shitty life.

You, his Bichito, his little bug, his best friend, the center of what he thought was his tiny little universe so many years ago. 

But he’d left that behind. Thought that he could find something else, find something better, finally be happy in ways he’d never even dreamed of.

And look at where it had gotten him. 

He wasn’t ever supposed to run into you again. He was supposed to be vigilant, cautious, knew that running into you would derail him a thousand times over and he had bigger things to be focusing on. Multiverse-altering, dimension-destroying things to focus on.

Yet the universe had dropped you both in that alley and something deep in his chest rippled with feelings he couldn’t seem to find a word for. It was fucking terrifying and he wasn’t going to let it fester. 

He had things to do. Universes to fix. An ever growing mantle of responsibility hanging of his shoulders.

A constant reminder of his fuck ups and the reality that he wasn’t going to let himself slip up again. 

And yet as his claws carry him up and onto the rooftops of Nueva York, Miguel O’Hara has a terrifying suspicion that he may no longer be able to stay away. 

~~~~~

hehehehAHAHHAHA god i love this twisted little sad sack man who just wants to be all rough and tough. anyways haven't written in ages and this character has gotten me at least sorta interested in writing so i just wanted to throw this out there, get something moving, even if i go back into dormancy for another millenia.

well heart eyes for you guys and forehead kisses for anyone who reads i hope your day is a dream <33333333333

[littlestarbigsky]

found this cutie lil fic in the depths of my notes and i’m kind of obsessed with it???

anyways here’s some stevepop cuteness from darry’s point of view for tonight :)

it was nothing darry hasn’t done before. he’s pulled double shifts before, knowing that if they just work on the house a little longer then the hardest parts will be over and they can breeze through the rest of the job the next day. he’s no stranger to coming home well after dinner and long after the sun had gone down.

he pushed the front door open, heading straight to his bedroom to shower, noting the tv playing some cartoon in the living room and someone piled up on the couch. he glanced into soda and ponyboy’s room, grinning when he saw pony reading on the bed.

pony was laying on his stomach on the bed and propped up on his elbows. he looked up when darry’s frame blocked out some of his reading light from the hallways, “johnny and soda made a pizza for dinner.”

“jeez, i’m surprised the house is still standing.”

“wasn’t too bad either, there’s a couple of slices left in the fridge if you want any.”

“thanks, kiddo, don’t stay up too late, yeah?”

“yeah, yeah,” pony waved him off, and darry chuckled.

assuming it was soda on the couch watching tv, darry headed back to his bedroom. he ripped his sweat-soaked clothes off the moment his door had shut behind him, showering quickly and throwing on a pair of his old football sweatpants to sleep in.

with the shower out of the way and the promise of his bed making him even more sleepy than he already was, he dragged himself back out to the kitchen to get a glass of water before knocking out for the night, stopping when he heard voices coming from the living room.

“i fell asleep, didn’t i?”

“just for a little bit, it’s okay, pepsi.”

“shoot, i’m sorry.. what happened? they’re probably not gonna play a rerun of this for a while...”

darry looked around the corner to see who was talking, only to see that the person he had seen on the couch had been soda and steve. steve was laying across the couch, propped up on a pillow, and soda was sprawled out on top of him. soda’s dx shirt was balled up at their feet and both of their hands were still covered in grease and motor oil, a tangle of arms and legs on the sofa, not doing a thing to hide their clasped hands, steve’s thumb gently running over the back of soda’s hand.

“it’s okay,” steve whispered gently, his voice sweet and soft in a way darry wouldn’t have thought possible from him. “go back to sleep, i’ll catch you up when you wake up.”

darry could have imagined it, but he was almost sure that he saw steve kiss soda’s forehead.

“mm, ‘kay,” soda mumbled, snuggling closer to steve’s chest, clearly not minding the dirt and grime caked onto both of them. “love you.”

it was muffled between his sleepy haze and the material of steve’s shirt he was pressed up against, but it was there. steve blushed, pulling him up so soda’s head rested comfortably over his heart, and started combing his fingers through soda’s hair, the grease from the morning all but gone after their shift.

darry waited a moment before walking into the kitchen, trying his hardest not to make eye contact with steve, even if it was painfully obvious what the two of them were doing. when he turned around from the fridge, he was met with steve’s horrified stare, instinctively holding soda tighter as if that wasn’t what he was scared of being caught doing in the first place.

darry just shot him a small smile and nodded shortly, and enjoyed feeling the tension dissipate as steve relaxed back into the couch, smiling gratefully back at darry. he pulled soda impossible closer and kissed his forehead again, going back to watching the show.

darry didn’t bother saying goodnight, knowing it was so rare for soda to get good sleep, with pony’s nightmares being so bad lately, and he just looked so peaceful, a small smile on his face as steve held him close.

[vintageshanny]

Waiting for Love - Part Ten

Is This It?

Content: April 1971-August 1972, smut, fluff, and angst (as promised).

Thank you to everyone who’s still reading this. 😘 This is more angst than I usually write, and I’d love to hear any thoughts or feedback! ❤️

Catch up here: Waiting for Love series

April 1971

“So how long can I stay?” Vivien whispered as she played with the tendrils of chest hair escaping Elvis’ pajama top. She was delighted to find a few stray silver ones mixed in. It was like finding four-leaf clovers in a patch of shamrocks.

“Actually baby, I told ‘Cilla I’d fly out ta LA tonight so I can spend Easter with her, I-I-I mean with Lisa,” he corrected quickly.

“So is this it?” Vivien asked softly. “Is this how it will be forever? Just a day together here and there?”

Elvis sighed a little bit, trying not to let his exasperation show. “Baby, I’ve told ya, it ain’t gonna be like this much longer. I jus’ need ta get the timin’ right. Ever’thing’s more complicated when you’re in the public eye.”

“I know, I’m sorry I need you to keep reminding me.” Vivien laid her head on his chest, feeling the soft thud of his heartbeat echo through her eardrum, sending its sweet rhythm into her own body.

“Ya ain’t gotta be sorry, baby. I know it’s hard. Us havin’ ta be apart just means our love knows its own depths, remember?”

Vivien nodded at the familiar words and breathed in deeply, trying to inhale every molecule of his being so she could take him home with her.

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

January 1, 1972

Vivien was startled out of her sleep by a pounding at the door. What in the world? She glanced in the mirror as she headed toward the door. Her face was still streaked with dried tears, and vague memories of crying herself to sleep the night before came flooding back. Another year of being a kept woman, only seeing her love while his wife was away or for a few nights at a time during his Vegas residencies. Last year at this time, she’d felt so hopeful that things would change soon. Now it felt like she was trapped in this cycle of elation and torment forever.

“I’m coming!” she called out as the pounding grew more adamant. She knew it must be Roxanne, Elvis, or a drunken neighbor pounding on the wrong door. She flung open the door to find Elvis standing there, his own face a mixture of emotions. It almost looked like he’d been crying too, but he wasted no time in closing the door behind him, pinning her up against it, and sticking his tongue in her mouth, his hands wandering over her body through her thin cotton nightgown.

“Woah, Elvis, what’s going on?” Vivien gasped when he finally came up for air.

“It’s time, baby. You’ve been so patient, and it’s time,” he whispered into her ear, still holding her body tightly. “Priscilla said she wants a divorce. I knew she was almost there, and I needed it to be her idea so I’m not the bad guy.”

Vivien’s mouth hung open in shock at this news. “Oh, Elvis! Are, are you okay?” she asked as she tried to keep her excitement at bay, her first thought always for him.

“All I wanna do is be with you, Vivien. I’ve never loved or been loved like this before.” He locked the deadbolt and walked her back toward the bedroom, never once letting go of his grasp on her.

“We can really be together now? Me and you?” Vivien could feel the reality setting in as he pulled her nightgown over her head and laid her gently on the bed.

“Me and you, baby. Forever.”

Vivien propped her pillows up against the headboard and leaned back so she could get a full view of Elvis as he stripped off his clothes. Usually he was somewhat shy about undressing, but tonight he seemed so eager. She could see that he wasn’t fully erect yet, so she reached out to touch him as he climbed up on the bed and straddled her legs with his own muscular thighs.

“Oh God, Vivien,” Elvis moaned as she pumped her hand, his foreskin rolling gently with the movement. “I jus’ wanna make love to ya so badly, baby. Ya still been takin’ those pills, right?”

“Of course,” Vivien whispered as Elvis spread her legs open and lined himself up to enter her.

“Baby, I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout this moment for so long. Ya officially belong ta me now, okay?” Elvis thrust gently up inside of her, her tight little hole inviting him in, coating him with arousal, stretching around him.

“Elvis, I’ve always belonged to you,” Vivien responded breathily, trying to savor every moment of this feeling. The way he filled her so completely, her body and soul craved his presence inside of her. “I need you,” she moaned.

“I-I-I need ya too baby,” Elvis stuttered out as he began to pulse inside of her, thrusting harder. As he made sure she was taken care of, a single tear rolled down his cheek and plopped onto Vivien’s shoulder. She smiled up at him lovingly and brushed the wetness from his cheek with her fingers.

“I love you so much.” She wished she could stay wrapped in the warmth of this lovemaking forever, all the conflicted emotions of a dying relationship left safely on the other side of the door.

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

August 1972

“So you’re really going on another tour without me?” Vivien tried to hide the hurt and pain in her voice.

“C’mon now honey, ya know I like ta have ya waitin’ for me when I get home. It gives me somethin’ ta look forward to.” Elvis grabbed her hand and stroked it softly in an attempt to reassure her. “Plus it’s not really a tour, it’s jus’ another boring residency in Vegas.”

Vivien bit down on her tongue, trying to will the tears away that she could feel springing to her eyes. “And who do you have waiting for you out on the road?” The acidity in her voice surprised even her, and she could see immediately from the stony look in Elvis’ eyes that she had crossed the line with this bold accusation.

“Hmm.” Elvis made a strained grunting noise in his throat as he dropped her hand and rose to leave the room.

“Elvis, wait, I-” Vivien tried to apologize but faltered when she could find no sincere words to say she was sorry for asking what felt like a perfectly valid question at this point.

“I ain’t got time for this mess right now, Vivien.” His jaw clenched as he looked back at her, trying the best he could to control his temper. “We can talk about it when I get back home.”

As he walked out the door, Vivien felt the hot tears start to slide down her cheeks.

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

“Rox?” Vivien’s voice came out as a pathetic little whimper.

“Vivien? What’s wrong, honey? What happened?” Roxanne breathed anxiously into the pale yellow phone receiver.

“I just, I don’t think I can do this anymore. With him. It shouldn’t be this hard, right?”

“Oh, Viv, I’m so sorry. Relationships can be hard, though, and it’s not like yours has been smooth sailing from the beginning.”

“I know,” Vivien sniffled as the tears kept flowing down her cheeks. “But it was supposed to be easier once he left her. I thought I made it through the hard part. He was supposed to be mine now. But he never really will be all mine, will he?”

“Well, I think you fell in love with someone who sort of belongs to the world, y’know? But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you and need you and want you, Viv.” Roxanne kept her tone soothing, even as she tried to wrap her mind around how it must feel to constantly see other women throwing themselves at your boyfriend. She didn’t know if she could do it, either.

“Sometimes it feels like he doesn’t want me around. At first he wanted me with him every second, but then it’s like something changed. He did two short tours without me, and now he’s back in Vegas again. I wasn’t invited.” Vivien couldn’t stop the bitterness from creeping into her voice.

“That really stinks Viv, but he did just get separated not too long ago and he’s probably trying to figure out his feelings. Plus it’s not like Priscilla really went on tour with him, right?”

“Exactly! Because he didn’t like having her around,” Vivien retorted.

“I just mean-”

“Why are you defending him?” Vivien snapped. “Can’t you just be on my side? Or are you trying to get in his bed too?” Vivien gasped at the words that flew out of her own mouth.

“Woah, Vivien, that’s not it,” Roxanne tried to keep her tone steady, but an icy edge had crept in.

“I’m so sorry, Rox. I didn’t mean that, I know you would never do that. I just, he’s making me crazy.” Vivien’s voice trembled again.

“I can tell, Viv.” Roxanne softened her tone at the apology. “I was just trying to talk you down, but you know I’m always on your side. If you need a break from there, from him, you know you can always come stay with me. Even if it’s just to clear your head for a little bit.”

“Thanks, Rox. I might do that.” Vivien’s head felt a little clearer already just at the thought of a break from the once-again deserted Graceland.

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

“Elvis!”

Elvis turned his head at the familiar sound, wondering if he was just hearing things after an intense performance. He wiped his sweaty brow with the sleeve of his paisley shirt as he looked around. There was no mistaking it a second time.

“Larry?” Elvis asked incredulously. “Larry! How’ve ya been?” He pulled his old friend into an embrace as if no time had passed.

“I’m good, man! I’ve missed our talks, though.”

“Me too,” Elvis said sheepishly, hanging his head slightly. “Y’know it wasn’t me, I-I-I mean I didn’t-”

“I know, man. I could see the evil forces at work,” Larry reassured.

Relieved, Elvis cleared his throat and jumped ahead to his usual mode of apology. “Hey, I got somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ ta give ya.” He led Larry through his suite and into the large master bedroom. After rummaging around in his jewelry case, he pulled out a large gold ring with a deep emerald stone. “Ah, I knew it was in here somewhere.” A big grin spread across his face as he pressed the gaudy ring into Larry’s palm. “The tranquility of the emerald made me think of ya.”

Larry nodded and accepted what he knew was a heartfelt apology. He didn’t really blame Elvis for icing him out five years ago; he knew it was the hold of the Colonel’s influence. Still, it was nice to know he’d been thought of.

“Speaking of tranquility, how have ya been, man? I hear you and Priscilla separated?”

Elvis ducked his head in a slight nod as his jaw tightened. “It was a long time comin,’” he muttered. “Although I’m sure ya know that better than most. Ya know she made me burn most of my spiritual books? I managed ta hide a few away, but it was a sad day, man, I’ll tell ya for sure.”

“Well, we can just rebuild your library,” Larry said calmly, although he was inwardly seething at Priscilla’s actions. In his mind, she’d always fought against Elvis’ growth. “It should feel like a weight off your shoulders for it to finally be over, right?” Larry studied Elvis’ expression as he asked the question. “It looks like you still feel conflicted, though.”

Elvis furrowed his brow in thought and twisted one of the heavy gold rings on his finger. “Nah, not conflicted ‘bout her really. I mean, I-I-I miss havin’ my family together, but we ain’t really been together in a long time. It’s jus’ that I , uh, I-I found out that she left me for some other guy, a-a-and it’s really messed up my head.”

“And what about you? Have you been seeing anyone special?” Larry tread carefully, knowing Elvis would not view his own affairs and Priscilla’s in the same light.

Elvis’ expression softened a bit as images of his Vivien sprang to mind - the way her eyes sparkled when she looked at him, how she hung on his every word, the feel of her soft lips around his…” Elvis drifted back to the present moment to find Larry still waiting for an answer.

“Vivien,” he whispered softly, as though her name alone might convey everything he was feeling.

“Vivien,” Larry repeated with a smile. “How long have you been seeing her?”

“Uh, ‘bout two years,” Elvis admitted. “I-I-I knew in my heart that this thing with Priscilla, that it was jus’ a matter of time, y’know? And Vivien, she’s everything I’ve been lookin’ for, I really mean that, Larry. She’s beautiful, she’s warm and affectionate, she wants ta be a wife and mother. I fell in love right away when she had a copy of The Prophet with her at the movie theater.”

“That’s great, man! I’m happy for you.” Larry smiled and looked around the suite for signs of a woman staying there. “So where is she? I’d love to meet her.”

Elvis lowered his head and mumbled, “Uh, w-w-well, she’s at Graceland right now. I, uh, told her to jus’ wait for me there.” His jaw tightened again as he remembered their argument right before he left.

“Did she not want to come and be with you?” Larry asked in surprise, hoping this wasn’t just another fling that Elvis had built up in his mind.

“Naw, it’s not like that, she did wanna come, but I told her not to.” Elvis blushed a little bit as he continued. “I mean, I told ya man, this thing with ‘Cilla and this other guy, it’s got me all messed up. What if this happens again? I fall hard and then she decides I’m not, y’know, not enough for her? Or not what she wants? I can’t live up ta this image, ta these expectations all the time.”

Larry nodded in understanding, remembering a previous conversation they’d had where Elvis admitted his discomfort with being thought of as a sex symbol. Elvis might not admit it to the guys in so many words, but Larry knew he felt insecure at times. “Has she ever indicated she might be, um, disappointed in some way?” He didn’t want to push too hard after being back in Elvis’ life for all of five minutes, but he knew none of the other guys would say anything to actually help Elvis deal with his issues.

“No,” Elvis admitted. “She always jus’ tells me how amazing I am. I’ll tell ya, Larry, I’ve actually never felt so connected ta someone physically like this. When we’re, uh, bein’ intimate, it’s like a spiritual experience. She had never been with a man before. It was so beautiful when she gave herself ta me.”

“That doesn’t sound like someone who might feel disappointed and want another man,” Larry pointed out. He decided against adding on that four weeks alone would be more likely to make a woman seek another companion.

“Well, ya might be right about that, but I still didn’t know if it was right ta bring her. I worry about her bein’ able to deal with my life, seein’ the way these fans act around me, the way the guys can get on tour. I’ve been down this road before where a woman wants ta own me and gets real hurt when she doesn’t understand how I have ta live. We’ve already had a couple arguments cuz she don’t understand why I need all my medications.”

“I don’t know, Elvis,” Larry started out thoughtfully. “You’re saying this woman is different. Everything you’ve told me makes it seem like you two are really in love. Maybe you should give her more of a chance to show that she understands how crazy your life can get. And as for the medications, it sounds like she’s just worried about you. That’s not a bad thing to have someone care so much. It sounds like you’re letting your feelings about Priscilla sabotage a beautiful relationship with the right person.”

Elvis sat contemplating for a few minutes before responding. “Lawrence, I think you’re right. Vivien is completely different from ‘Cilla. I should be embracing how much we enjoy each other’s company. See, this is why I need ya back in my circle, man. Let’s talk about ya doin’ my hair again.”

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

Vivien heard a car pull up right as she was pulling her two suitcases down the steps to the foyer. She hoped the guard wouldn’t be in trouble for letting Roxanne in as she’d instructed.

“Vivien?”

Oh shoot. That was definitely not Roxanne’s voice.

“What’s all this? Where are ya goin’?” Elvis almost sounded more hurt than angry as he took in the suitcases and processed what was happening.

“You’re not supposed to be back for another week,” Vivien mumbled, as if this was somehow an answer to his question.

“I came back ta get ya. I missed ya so much, baby.” Elvis stepped toward her, but she quickly grabbed her bags when she heard another car pull up.

“Elvis, I just need a break. I can’t sit here for weeks at a time and wonder why you don’t want me around.”

She glanced at his face long enough to see his expression turn icy, although his eyes seemed to be brimming with tears. She quickly headed for the door, knowing he was about to explode with rage or tears. She wasn’t sure if she had it in her to stay and find out which.

Tag List: @whositmcwhatsit @lookingforrainbows @arrolyn1114 @thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @from-memphis-with-love @pebbles403 @deniseinmn @everythingelvispresley @little-laamb @annapresley8 @leapresley @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @atleastpleasetelephone @gatheraheart @richardslady121 @helen06dreamer @arg-xoxo @i-r-i-n-a-a @returntopresley

[thehollowwriter]

Ok so since i love sad but bad boys i'm gonna ask blaze for your event-

How about reader(gender neutral or fem your choice) who is blaze's childhood friend and tries to make him realize what his mother wants is not what he wants

Thank you! (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞

Hi! Sorry for the late reply! Yaaay a Blaze ask <3

Warnings: None. Word count: 520

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ♥️)

Art by @/moonyasnow

Choose

Blaze sat on one of the rocks closest to the shimmering water of the sea, throwing and catching a smooth, circular rock as he stared at the horizon. It was painted with beautiful purples and oranges as the sun gradually dipped down to welcome the night, giving Blaze at least something to appreciate on this shitty shitty day.

"You should get in," you said to him from your spot within the water, your tail flicking back and forth happily. "The water's wonderful."

"No." Blaze muttered. He didn't feel like changing forms right now. It was such an exhausting process.

An awkward silence reigned for a moment. Blaze kept throwing and catching his rock. Eventually, you spoke. "Your mom again?"

Blaze didn't answer for a while. He stopped throwing the rock and stared at it, turning it over in his hands.

"...I didn't get a main role in our theatre production." He growled out after a while, his voice softer and rougher than usual. "Not even a side character. I'm... 'too wooden'. Mom says she's wasting money and time on me if this is what she gets back for all those acting lessons..." He put his head in his hands. "I'm tyring. I'm trying so hard, but she just doesn't care. Now she wants me to do lessons and advice from Vil fucking Schoenheit."

You didn't say anything for a while. The same string of thoughts you always had every time Blaze mentioned acting flooded through your mind.

'You shouldn't have to be an actor,' you wanted to say, 'Do what you want. Don't you want to choose what to do with your life?'

You rarely did, though. He got so upset every time. But a question on the tip of your tongue escaped before you could stop it.

"Blaze," you said before you could stop yourself. "Is acting what you really want to do? It's more your... your mom's wishes than your own."

Blaze glanced at you, then threw his rock. It skipped across the water before sinking below the waves and into the ocean's depths.

"Of course it's what I want!" He hissed venomously. "I don't even like Alchemy that much. It's just an interesting subject!"

You drew in a breath, refraining from pointing out that you never mentioned alchemy.

"But you don't like acting either." You insisted. "You always hate going to classes. You said you wanted to be in a different club too-"

"Because I hate hearing Vil talk like he's all that when his daddy's money gave him everything! I would like it if that bastard wasn't there!"

You grinded your teeth. "Blaze, you've never been happy about anything to do with acting. You don't like acting. This isn't what you want, Blaze, it's your mom who-"

"Will you shut up?" Blaze hissed. "I'm going to be an actor, and I'm to be Vil Schoenheit levels of famous! You can either support me like a good friend should or get lost."

There was a long pause.

"Okay, well," you said, hiding your hurt. You picked up a smooth circular stone of your own and threw it in the same direction as Blaze threw his. It only skipped a few times before sinking. "Best of luck."

A heavy silence reigned between the both of you. You stared at Blaze. You stared at his face, the way his jaw set in a grimace, and the way his eyes seemed to water.

He could do so much more, be so much more, but he didn't want to. Or he didn't think he could. It hurt to see. But you stayed silent.

You disappeared into the water and left Blaze to sit on his rock. Alone.

-End

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading! Blaze is a bit mean, sorry :(

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

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@skibidibabygirl @paperclvps

[magicaloneandmystery]

easy to love. (p.p. x reader)

pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x reader

summary: Peter is relentlessly there to help pick you up when you are too tired to do the same.

warnings: heavy negative self-talk, allusions to depression, please don't read this if you are not comfortable with either of these. additionally, my inbox and messages are always open if you ever want to vent about anything

word count: about 850 words

a/n: if you are suffering or even slightly down today, take this as your reminder that you are loved, cared for, and you matter. sending so many hugs to all of your way <3

(gif not mine, credits to the owner/creator)

you had been in bed since morning and it was 2 pm now. 

suffice it to say, it was a bad day.

you were drowning in your thoughts, unable to distinguish the light on the surface from the darkness of the depths. you were not sure if there was any surface, to be honest.

you had forgotten to call in from your work in the haze that surrounded you but left a message about an hour earlier, a simple text to your boss that read apologies for not coming in today, feeling a bit sick. 

bless her heart, you were only met with a text saying are you okay? that was left on read.

you should answer that soon.

there were several other texts you were yet to reply to, the most glaring ones being from Peter.

good morning sweetheart was the first one.

you okay? after a few hours of no reply.

y/n talk to me, please? was the last one.

you wanted to talk to him so bad, but it was much easier staying there and pretending the world didn’t exist for as long as you could, as long as it was viable. 

you didn’t realise it was way later than 2 pm when you suddenly turned in your bed to see the darkened skies. you supposed time flies when all you do is lie beneath your covers thinking about all the reasons you couldn’t get up. (more often than not coming up with none.)

you jumped when a knock sounded on your window but didn’t remove the blanket from your face to see who it was. you knew who it was, you were just hoping he left you alone.

alas, that hope went out the window (no pun intended) when he stepped into your room. you wished you had turned the lock on them but in your state last night it didn’t matter whether they were on or not. no amount of locks could ensure that you felt safe.

“you should not leave your windows unlocked like that, sweetheart,” he said, noticing the piles of clothes in two places. apart from that, though, your room was organised like it usually was. not a lot of people could’ve said something was wrong by looking at your room.

“I know you’re awake, it’s fine if you don’t wanna talk to me,” he sighed. he was disappointed in you. you should get up and talk to him. greet him, at least. he came all this way just for you. and here you are, lying there like you don’t want it, want him. ungrateful brat. “did you have something to eat?"

you wondered why he bothered trying.

“y/n,” he sat down next to you. his ungloved hand came into your view as he tucked away the blanket a bit. you realised he wasn’t wearing his suit. did he not come here after his patrol?

you’re disrupting spider-man too. selfish selfish selfish.

“babe,” he started, stroking your cheek. “just give me a simple nod if you want me here. I’ll be gone if you don’t.”

tears were pooling in your eyes. you wanted him gone but more than that, you knew you needed him here. it was unfair to still need him for anything.

gathering all your strength, you nodded once.

his fingers gently wiped away the tears that managed to spill over. 

"I love you," he said, before leaning down and kissing your forehead. your eyes shut tightly, undeserving of his love, his beauty, his warmth. "I'm gonna clean this room a little, okay? I must say, you've managed it quite well already."

you knew he was lying but it made the pressure holding you down lift a little. maybe you were not a complete failure.

a few minutes of his cleaning had put some life back into your body, making it easier to breathe in and out. you moved into a sitting position by your bed, legs hanging off its side.

"hey, bug," Peter grinned, triumph swimming in his eyes. "wanna eat something?"

you nodded after some time, contemplating.

"something light? I was thinking of some soup."

you nodded again.

"be right back!" he skipped out of the room, already familiar with your apartment enough to know where all the ingredients were kept.

you listened to the clanging of the utensils for some time, head bent in the doorway’s direction. slowly, you stretched your legs and decided to join him. walking seemed to take tremendous effort but when you saw Peter, his back to you, stirring the pot on your stove, making food for you. the realisation felt heavy but it seemed to make your steps lighter all the same. maybe you could be loved.

“hello there,” he called out to you. his senses were already attuned to you, and his heart fluttered wildly when he realised you were joining him in the kitchen. he stretched his hand out to you, sighing when your body slotted itself to his side as you both stared at the boiling soup.

as your head rested on his shoulder, eyes fixated forward, you realised it’s very easy to love Peter Parker. sometimes, that was all you needed. a reminder you could love.

phew, thanks for reading if you did!! comments and reblogs are much appreciated :) please do remember to check in with your closed ones and to never be afraid to ask for help.

[musicalmoritz]

Though on genderswap Mitsukou? What would their characters belike both appearance and personality wise?

Yuri Mitsukou!! I love this question

So awhile back I posted smth like “no fem4masc Yuri Mitsukou it has to be masc4masc” which like. I don’t really agree with anymore. I like that in canon one of them is feminine while the other is masculine and it’s not really done in a stereotypical way. Fandoms make a really big deal about people feminizing male characters- and for good reason, it does happen a lot. But that gets taken to the point that they end up unintentionally reinforcing traditional gender roles. “How dare you draw that man in a skirt” or “that male character would never cry.” It’s also weird to me that I never see the same defense given to female characters being masculinized, so it ends up feeling like a lot of fans just hate femininity. So when a male character is feminine and seemingly likes masc dudes but has one of the loudest personalities in the manga, I think it’s pretty neat. Ofc there are fans that are weirdly against calling Mitsuba feminine but I already blocked most of them so idk what they have to say

(I could talk more in-depth about how fans are so worried about feminizing Mitsuba that they erase all the soft parts of his personality and make him one-dimensional but I’ll hold my tongue)

However, with fem!Mitsuba things are usually portrayed differently. Since dude Mitsuba’s initial conflict was being bullied for looking like a girl, most people say that the reverse would be girl Mitsuba being bullied for looking like a dude. This is fine but we also have to keep in mind that the entire gag of Mitsuba’s character is that he looks feminine but has an unfiltered personality, based on his looks you would never expect him to act that way. So if girl Mitsuba looks boyish, does that mean her personality would be super soft and delicate?? Because, yeah Mitsuba does have a soft side but not in that way, and it’s not at the forefront of his personality. Plus girl Mitsuba could still get bullied for looking too feminine, internalized misogyny is very much a thing

However, at the end of the day it really depends on personal preference so I’m not at all bashing either depiction of fem!Mitsuba. I go back and forth over which one I like more. Gender themes are a pretty big part of how I write Mitsukou so it’s hard for me to imagine that switched up, but it’s also incredibly interesting to think abt. All in all I like to keep fem!Mitsuba looking androgynous, maybe she has a boyish face but still dresses very feminine. Or maybe she has a girly face but dresses very masc. It’s one of those things I like a variety of interpretation on. For this I say she keeps the same hair length and pink cardigan but wears the girls uniform. So like yeah she basically just looks the same

As for Kou, those of you that read my wlw Kou//Nene fic should know that masc girl Kou is actually everything to me. A lot of fans sort of flip their gender presentations when gender bending them- Mitsuba becomes masc and Kou becomes fem. That’s totally great if that’s what you like but for me personally Kou is gonna be wearing Old Spice. I like to imagine her hair a tad longer in the back, like a choppy version of the Bisexual Bob. She wears some type of hoodie over her uniform the same way canon Kou wears a t-shirt under his uniform. The hoodie is blue btw (gotta incorporate the lore from my mtsk fics)

I feel like their personalities and dynamic would stay mostly the same! Maybe make them a bit clingier the way female friendships are but they’re already pretty clingy in canon lol. I do wonder if Kou’s flaw of not being able to open up about his feelings properly would change due to gender socialization. But many women (including myself) have that problem too so I think it would stay the same. She might be able to open up to Teru or Yokoo and Satou better but she’d still struggle to admit when she’s feeling overwhelmed. I could see her not being the type to tell someone how she’s feeling until all those emotions have built up for months. That’s how I’ve seen the whole “can’t talk abt your emotions” problem present itself in women. And men tend to only feel comfortable opening up to their romantic partners, which is something we very much see with Mitsukou in canon. But with fem!Kou, if Yokoo and Satou were girls two they would probably encourage her to talk abt her feelings rather than just being like “let’s give him a task to distract him” (which is fine too, men have different ways of comforting their friends)

Thank you for this ask!!

[stedefxckingbonnet]

So this is gonna be entirely too much info but like. I've fallen into reading your reader x Izzy fics and I LOVE them! I've been going through a hard time with it getting to Christmas and having no family, and the Izzy fics just make me feel lighter. So mostly just thank you thank you thank you!

Now the cheeky bit - is there any way we could get a Male reader x Izzy with a pride and prejudice element. My friend said something about Con O'Neil as Mr Darcy and I damn near swooned. Either like a Colin Firth wet white shirt scene or like anything like the Matthew Macfayden Darcy (The hands! The sopping wet pathetic man!)

If not, that's more than okay! I still love your work so much! And again, thank you so much for it!

Hi, anon! First of all, I completely understand how rough the holidays can be, especially without family around. My heart is truly with you during these times and I hope you can still find joy, peace, and love this winter. If you ever need anything, I am always in your corner. I know I'm just a random writer on Tumblr but I truly do care for you, each and every one of you, for that matter! I'm happy I could even bring you a sliver of joy with my work. Thank you endlessly for reading, and I am sending an abundance of my love your way <3 feel free to message me if you'd like, I'd love to be your friend! My messages are always open, everyone! But if not, that's okay too. I'm just happy to share this with you!

Anyhow, I absolutely lit up at this request—I love Pride & Prejudice! OFMD and P&P intertwining is honestly heavenly, I got so excited to write this that I put a pin on another x reader I was writing (never fear! You will all get this one by the end of the week if finals don't absolutely drain me!). This one is reminiscent of Pride & Prejudice and the vibes it emits, but more so, my own spin on it, as well as twists and turns. Like, Izzy honestly exhibits more of a Lizzie in this one but it's also very clear his actions parallel Darcy. I really, truly hope you enjoy this nonetheless!

Lastly, speaking of the holidays, I'm thinking of writing some holiday headcanons for Izzy or a few x readers regarding the holidays with Izzy! So stay tuned for that! Thank you everyone for your everlasting kind words, understanding, patience, and encouragement with my slight delay with writing in the past week.

My Gem | Izzy x Male Reader

Warnings: slight angst, some strong language, slight enemies to lovers, not so in depth research of 1700's aristocracy (even though I'm a damn dramaturg, but we'll look past that for now), made up my first non-canon canon character because just referring to her as "she" felt inhumane, brief mentions of fake suicide note, kissing

Word count: 2324

Thoughts of the first mate of The Revenge were absolutely consuming you. Devouring you alive, plaguing you—you truly couldn't get him out of your head no matter how hard you tried. Oh, yes, you tried. But there was no use. Daydreams would always swirl in your mind and they would only increase tenfold throughout the course of your days.

You were grateful that you at least didn't have to carry the burden of breathing the same air as Israel Hands anymore. You would even collapse being within ten feet of him, let alone seeing him every single day. Your chest ached even at the mere thought of the man.

To say you were confused by his last actions toward you was an understatement. Confused, embarrassed, miserable, even flattered...You couldn't get Izzy Hands out of your head. You couldn't get his hands out of your head...

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"So you really are doing this, then."

"Yes," you nodded. "I am. I don't belong here—"

"You are a damn great pirate," Izzy almost seethed. "I'll be damned if I believe you really want to go back to that...lavish lifestyle."

You looked slightly frantically behind you in hopes that no one heard Izzy's dig at what was about to be your life again. You hesitantly looked back at Izzy, almost biting your lip in disbelief. "I just need to do this."

"Really? That's all you have to say?"

"What—what else am I supposed to say?"

Silence loomed between the two of you. He nervously fidgeted with the coat that Stede had lent him to disguise himself as an aristocrat. He couldn't wait to toss it back into Bonnet's arms, but he needed this in order to see you off safely, without any suspicions of what you had been up to in your absence from the life you were born into. He knew full well that you were making a mistake, but that you couldn't be convinced of this. His chest ached upon realizing that you wouldn't change your mind, that he wouldn't be able to change your mind.

"Goodbye, Israel."

Instead of responding, Izzy carefully intertwined his fingers with yours as you were about to step up into the carriage. You froze, yet began to melt into his touch, his warmth. You finally met his eyes just as he let go of you, and before you knew it, you were riding off into the distance, Izzy becoming a small speck fading from your sight. Before he began to fade out of view, you caught a glimpse of him flexing his hand by his side as he watched you depart.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You scoffed as the yellow carnation was pinned to your coat.

"Is something wrong, sir?" one of your dressers inquired, concern washing over his expression.

You almost laughed at such a question, thinking back to all of the late nights you spent studying flowers and their meanings, dying to tell him how this marriage was going to be doomed if you had to wear a yellow carnation. At the last minute, you decided against it, holding your tongue. "Everything is perfect. Thank you."

He nodded, exiting the room as soon as he finished dressing you. You turned toward the mirror, a frown falling onto your lips upon seeing your reflection. You had never dreaded a coming day like you dreaded tomorrow. Before you could internally lament further, a rhythmic knock was heard from your door. Genevieve—future wife. How delightful. It's not like you dreaded it every time she walked into a room, let alone walked over to your side, and it's not like you could tell she dreaded you all the same.

"Yes. Come in," you sighed, plopping down onto your bed. Only, it wouldn't be your bed anymore—you would share it with her, come tomorrow. Your solitude would be interrupted and put on pause forever.

Genevieve quickly rushed in, making sure to shut and lock the door behind her. She fixed her hair a bit as she did so.

"What is it that you want?" you demanded softly, your brows furrowing.

"Hello to you too," she rolled her eyes. "I'm not looking forward to tomorrow—"

"That makes two of us, Genevieve! Finally, something we can agree upon," you laughed, falling backwards onto the bed.

"Will you let me finish?" she crossed her arms without realizing it. Once she had in fact realized, an expression of guilt overcame her as she untwisted herself. A guilt you had never once seen her bear. You sent an apologetic look her way. "I'm not looking forward to tomorrow, nor the rest of our lives together, but I just wanted to say that you are lovely. I don't hate you. I just hate this."

"I don't hate you either," you sat up carefully, your head sort of spinning as you did so. "Far from it. This is just an...unfortunate situation we've found ourselves in."

"Yes," she agreed, carefully placing herself beside you on the edge of the bed. "You know, I would love you, if you were...there's no way to dance around this. I would love you if you were not a man."

"Oh!" you realized, looking over at her, relief crashing over you. "And I would probably love you if you were not a woman, quite honestly."

Genevieve gasped in delight, wrapping her arms around you as she laughed happily. You couldn't help but smile upon her embrace.

"Who is the lucky woman?" you playfully smiled, nudging her shoulder. You watched intently as you watched the pigment of her face turn rosy.

"Well...we've known each other since we were babies," she sighed happily. "But our families have been dear friends since before we were even conceived. It would never work out."

"Take "never" out of your vocabulary this instant!" you exclaimed, shooting up off the bed and onto your two feet.

"What are you planning?" Genevieve tilted her head.

You rushed over to your desk, filing through all that had piled atop it until you found a quill, some ink, and some parchment.

"We can't say you've run away—no, that would give hope that you're still alive and then you would be seeing wanted posters with your face plastered across trees anywhere you go," you sighed. "No. We'll fake your death instead. And you'll run away tonight."

Genevieve bit her lip concernedly. "Are you sure this will work?"

"I'm certain," you assured her. "Are you able to communicate this plan to your love before midnight?"

"Yes, she is coming to the rehearsal dinner tonight and I'm sure we'll sneak off to the gardens," she nodded.

"Wait—is that why you and Alice go there every time—"

Genevieve's hands flew up to her face, covering it as she giggled.

"My goodness!" you couldn't help but share the laughter. "Wow. I am not surprised, honestly."

"What about you?"

"Have I ever snuck off to a garden to—"

"No!" Genevieve rolled her eyes playfully. "Do you love another?"

"I..." you sighed. "Well, it's complicated."

"I've got time."

"I'm kind of upset with him at the moment. And I'm not sure how he feels about me. And I didn't realize I love him until after I left—"

"One thing at a time!" Genevieve tilted her head back to laugh. She place a hand on your shoulder. "Why does he have you upset?

"He held my hand before I left." you admitted, staring out the window as you spoke. Most days, you would have the curtains closed in order to mask the view of the ocean, as it would only bring you feelings of sorrow and regret.

"And you really question how he feels for you?!"

"Well, he's not like us," you frowned. "Believe me, I'm glad he's not. Though I just don't think he understands what a touch of the hand means to someone like me."

"You may come from different worlds with different values and rules, but holding hands is still an expression of affection wherever you come from," Genevieve pointed out.

"He did wear a fancy ensemble just to see me off safely..."

Once again, Genevieve's laughter filled the room. "You are blind!"

"It's just hard to tell with him!" you protested, laughing along with her. "He's hard to read. He's...very easily irritated."

"Is he like that when he's with you?"

"Less so, but yes," you shrugged. "He is a complicated man."

"But his feelings for you are apparent."

"My god, I need to go!"

"Yes, you do!" she encouraged you, patting you on the back.

"I can't right away. I have to get in contact with someone first, and if both you and I are found missing or dead by morning, it's going to be terribly suspicious—"

"You will find a way. I know it," she assured you. "Let's go and oversee the menu for tonight. I'm starved."

You laughed as she jokingly linked arms with you, leading you out into what you were about to leave behind once again.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

All had gone according to plan—you saw Genevieve and Alice off safely, and falsely mourned your fiancée the next day, and for only a few days after before Stede caught wind of your message. As soon as he had, you scurried to the beach, only bothering to bring a few possessions with you. You hadn't even bothered to leave a note—nothing attached you to the aristocratic life anymore. For good this time.

"Captain!" you exclaimed, almost out of breath. "Thank you. I'm so, so sorry."

"No need to apologize to me," Stede assured you warmly. "Believe me, I get it."

"I wish you warned me—"

"Oh, you wouldn't have listened," he teased. "I do regret having done the same thing you had, but if I hadn't, I never would have gotten closure with Mary and bade farewell to that side of me fully. You had to do the same."

"And you and Blackbeard—he forgave you?"

"We're working on it," Stede laughed. "He has, mostly."

"Do you think Izzy will ever forgive me? How is he?"

"Go see for yourself," Stede suggested kindly. "He's on watch tonight. I'll be in my quarters should you need anything at all."

Before you could thank him again, he vanished into the darkness. You smiled, though you could have swore your heart stopped upon the sight of Izzy Hands. You almost choked on the breath you had taken before gaining the courage to waltz over to him. Before you knew it, you were beside him once again. Izzy jumped upon sensing your presence.

"Jesus fuck," Izzy mumbled.

"Hello to you too."

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Oh, Izzy, I'm happy to see you too!"

"I'm serious—what the fuck? You just up and leave and then you're back. Is this some sort of pattern? How long will your stay be this time, perhaps only a day, maybe two—"

Without much thought, you found your fingers laced between his once again. Izzy's train of thought stopped in its tracks and all he could focus on now was the feeling of warmth that had been yanked away from him ever since you left, and that now, it had been restored. A warmth he thought he would never get to experience again, nor experience at all. Whenever he spent countless days and hours reminiscing upon it, he scolded himself, convincing himself that he should be grateful he got to feel that at least once in his life. It was one more time than he ever expected he would feel it. It should have been enough, but it wasn't even close. His heart began beating out of his chest—what was this feeling he couldn't quite place? He knew it all too well and he was tired of pushing it down to drown. Eventually, you softly removed your hand, and you noticed Izzy's hand flex by his side once again.

"Did it mean something to you? When you held my hand before I left."

"I was giving you a boost onto your ride," he shrugged it off, turning away in hopes that the darkness would hide his smile.

"Right," you laughed. "Izzy, seriously. I have been going crazy. Every single day, wondering if you ever understood what such a gesture meant to me or if it meant absolutely nothing to you."

"Of course it meant something to me, dammit," Izzy sighed. "You are such a fool if you thought for a second that it didn't."

You laughed breathlessly, relief overcoming you instantly as you pressed your forehead against his. The way the moonlight shone upon his face made him even more breathtaking, even more earth-shatteringly beautiful. You couldn't believe what your eyes were allowing you to see, and you couldn't believe how warm you'd felt. You almost swore you'd never shiver once again. Your lips softly grazed his forehead before you pressed another kiss upon his cheek, before resting your forehead against his once again, your eyes fluttering shut, butterflies flying around in your stomach as you reached for his hands once again.

"Mark my words. I will never, ever leave again—"

"Shh," Izzy gently whispered against your lips. "We can talk about it later."

"Later," you nodded gently as finally, your lips collided. Your heart did pirouettes as your lips danced against one another's. In the darkness of your vision, you caught a glimpse of your future aboard The Revenge, with Izzy. You had never seen so clearly, until now, that you had finally found the place you were meant to be after denying it for so long. You had found your family and your lover, and they were all gathered in the same place. This was a luxury that would always beat the fancy balls you attended, the gold-laced coats you wore upon your back, the gems you were gifted often. Izzy was your gem, and he made your life shine brighter than it ever had.

[raccoonfallsharder]

hii! i just wanted to say i love your blog sm. your fics are amazing and your fanart as well😩 your work has such a good emotional depth that’s so nice to read/see. you have a way like the movies did of showing the attention to detail with their worlds and other worldly cultures and shit it’s so interesting to read <3. i didn’t know if your taking requests but this was just a random thought that would be so cool to see you write. no pressure ofc but i thought it’d be so cool to see rocket more introduced to like more music/Terran pop culture references😭. i feel like rocket would like goth music like the cure and shit and tbh lady gaga i feel like also😭😭. it’s so cute to think of him getting shown like classic horror and stuff, he’d probably think a lot of them as comedies or shit😭. i jsut had these thoughts to share lol. your writing has me daydreaming i swear <3. i hope you are having a good day <33 : D

you are absolutely the sweetest little bundle of love nonnie. cups of tea, midnight bonfires, and golden autumn leaves. that's you. thank you so much for the kind words. they truly made my last two weeks. and i'm so sorry for the delay - the start of the schoolyear has been kicking my ass to knowhere and back, and then this… got away from me. it’s really unforgivably fucken long for mostly just being a list ~

but i hope you enjoy it anyway ♡♡

oh btw i linked some related headcanons that might interest you at the end!

to be honest i don't think i go through a single commute to or from work without thinking about how rocket would respond to the latest bit of terran culture you're showing him. when he was spending time on terra during the snap, he noticed steve’s little pocket-journal checklist of movies and books and shows to get caught up on. well, he didn’t just notice it — he might’ve maybe possibly swiped it — and once he trusted you enough to know you weren’t gonna fuckin narc on him, he decided to show it to you. he asks questions about the various titles, and steve’s notes scrawled in the margins. the two of you started there.

rocket isn’t quite as prejudiced against actors as many of his fellow guardians, but he does approach the idea of movies and tv with a healthy dose of skepticism. you probably start out with some documentaries, and he loves those. he’s enthralled by the ones about outer space — appreciating what they’ve gotten right and snickering about what they got wrong, getting a little weepy when the narrator makes some poignant philosophical observation. he stares at the screen with something that wrenches at your heart when you turn on the nature docs, those cut-ruby eyes turning into something soft and molten, silvered over with a yearning you’re sure he doesn’t even recognize inside himself.

you might think he’d be a fan of true crime, but no — not unless it’s someone scamming a big corporation or stealing from some hubristic rich bastard, or maybe the occasional murderer who accidentally confesses his crimes on a hot mic. the truth is that rocket’s already personally familiar with some of the worst true crime in the galaxy and he just sort of assumes that’s how things operate at large. why’s he need to watch people talk about?

it’s this kind of thinking that impacts the kind of fictional shows and movies he ends up liking, too — once you finally convince him that acting is more about storytelling, and less about lying or trying to wear someone else’s skin. you’d think he’d be super-into horror but he’s very — selective about it. murderers, slashers, and body horror (especially of the medical variety) are not in his wheelhouse. he gets anxious in the worst sort of way: impatiently twitching on the couch next to you, chewing on his claws. he rolls his eyes but his shoulders stay tense and his tail is puffs up three times it’s normal size. he might occasionally snort and scoff at how fake things look but again, that’s only because he knows.

and he wishes he didn’t.

supernatural horror is much more palatable to him, and alien-based horror is usually hilarious as far as he’s concerned. space dramas and adventures have an unpredictable impact. he says star wars is too dramatic (wild coming from someone who has since decided he loves reality dating shows) and gets weirdly emotional about star trek. and you have to repeatedly remind him that neither the aliens franchise nor killer clowns from outer space are documentary series (he has some weird hang-ups about terran clowns and will dryly tell you that he’s pretty sure they’ve tried to kill him in another life). he’s extremely and overly fascinated by some of the weirder terran horror and horror-adjacent media: cult classics from the 80s and 90s, Tales from the Crypt, Twilight Zone — some of those weird old fantasy movies too, like the labyrinth and company of wolves. you always indulge him, trying to remind him of what’s fiction and what’s not, and what loosely straddles the line of being based on a true story (even though sometimes you have to fight with the urge to roll your eyes when he points at the screen and says, no, that’s real, i been to a planet like that!).

you learn he has an uncanny eye for CGI. looks weird, he grunts every time something rendered crosses the screen. very into practical effects, though. he spent an inordinate amount of time trying to make a claymation sequence of the collapse of ego — the living planet, that is; not some great philosophical metaphor — and took over your kitchen for two months to do it. you’d expected him to get bored of it quickly, but you’d misunderstood just how fixated he’d been. he’d stopped taking pete’s comms for the entire last three weeks and had barely slept at all till it had been done.

he’s equally selective about games. classic shooters bore him — why bother when you can go do the real thing with any despot-of-the-week? — but he kind of loves cozy games. he enjoys horror games as long as they follow his horror movie rules, too — minimal lifeform-on-lifeform torture, heavy on the supernatural or other weirdness. poppy’s playtime is a current fave. he loves dnd, of course. once he figures out the mechanics he always wants to dm because he’s got more control issues than a freighter full of ravagers, but you haven’t missed the fact that that he’s got a recurring favorite character that he pulls out regardless of which side of the dm screen he’s on — a shockingly wise and kind aquatic sorceress named lylla, with the gentlest healing vibes. it rattles you the first time he plays her — so at odds with his normal snark — but you decide it’s just his way of letting his soft side shine through when he normally tries to hide it under prickly defensiveness.

it might surprise you (or maybe not), but he’s far less picky about music, to be honest. sure, he’s got preferences — certain songs he’ll play on repeat, or jam out to, or weep over. but he’s just as excited to clone a taylor swift record as he is to get his hands on some iron maiden. he’s got something surprisingly positive to say about every single song you ask after.

that one’s real catchy, he’ll say, bopping along to dolly’s 9 to 5 — only to then croon his way through the lingering notes of jolene. then the next time you see him he’s asking how he can secure more tupac albums.

he gets all teary-eyed over the sweeping strings of sometime around midnight, then later tilts his head, ears flickering, to drink in the light starlit notes of single acoustic guitars and lonely pianos. he’s as greedy for 90s grunge as he is for screamo and post-rock. sometimes he steals your phone and it’s usually just to download a nirvana album you once had him listen to, but just last week you realize he’d blown a sizable portion of your grocery budget by buying the entire babymetal discography.

he explains it to you one late autumn evening when you’re in your room with him, introducing him to seventeen seconds. the two of you are just chilling. he’s traded in his jumpsuit for the kids’ sweatpants and the hoodie you bought him — the one with the ears — and of course you very wisely don’t tell him how stupidly cute it is. the sun’s going down and the room is slanting and pooling with blue-and-gold shadows slowly deepening into purple, and you’ve lit a couple caramel-apple candles for the vibe. maybe you’ve got mugs of warm spiced apple cider or cocoa or something. he’s sprawled on the rug on your floor and you’re leaning over the edge of the bed, with the entire musical archive of the cure, woven liberally with a random joy division album, some merciful nuns, and other collections from your personal library of favorites.

he’s super-into it, of course.

this sound is somethin’ else, he tells you as he stares up at the shadows. The candlelight is reflecting off some unknown surface in your room, casting flecks of fractured light across the deepening dark of the ceiling. his blunted claws tap a steady rhythm on the floor beside him.

you say that about every song, you tell him drily, and he shrugs.

but i mean it, he tells you in the gold-flickering darkness. there’s a long silence, and you think he’s just listening to the music — but halfway through dope, he suddenly breaks his silence.

i ain’t exactly the most emotionalistically-intelligent, he says quietly into the room. don’t trust myself to know when someone’s good or bad. there was a guy, when i was a kid — well. anyway. it’s frickin hard to trust anybody, myself most of all.

you wait to see if he’ll go on — but he doesn’t. at least not till you say, i get that. there’s good people out there, but the worst are usually so good at tricking us. and then it’s easy to second-guess ourselves — forever.

from the corner of your eye, you see him nod emphatically.

not in music, though, he says quietly. you hear him swallow — painfully hard. i think — music’s when people tell you most about what they are. even when it’s hard to understand at first. when there ain’t any words.

you tilt your head, allowing him the privacy of not looking directly at him. instead, you study the flickering candlelight and shadow, painting amber and dark-velvet patterns on the ceiling. that’s why you like every song? you ask at last.

that swallow again, hard as a rock in his throat. i dunno. maybe it means something, when someone gives a part of ‘emselves like that. to you — a stranger. just — serve themselves up like a gift for your judgement.

ah, you think. the vulnerability.

as if he’d heard you, he snorts. me personally? i’d never risk it.

even now, you can feel him watching you uneasily from the corner of his eye — waiting for you to mock him, maybe. but you only hum an agreeable note.

i never thought of it that way, you admit, but it’s true. you smile at the ceiling. and you said you weren’t emotionally intelligent.

he huffs, but the sound is more relieved than annoyed. i ain’t, he snipes. and then — more tentatively — maybe that’s part of it too.

you feel your eyebrows raise, but you still don’t look his way — cradling the back of your head with your hands while the music continues in around you, and smell of warm caramel apples fills the soft shadows between you. what do you mean?

softer now — almost nervous — he confesses to the darkness and the gold light and the sound of lady gaga’s voice. every time i listen to a new song, s’like I find something in myself i didn’t have before. or didn’t know i had before. or that i thought had died.

your heart stills in your chest and your breath catches, and everything in you suddenly aches. before you can say a word — before you can think — he spits a scoff into the air.

never mind. i was kidding. that’s fuckin’ stupid—

no, you interrupt quickly, and it takes everything in you not to turn over and catch his eyes and hold them. not to reach out and hold his hands, because you know he’s not willing to accept that level of comfort.

not yet. but soon.

so instead, you make your voice into the softest thing you’ve ever imagined. no sharp edges, no corners to cut himself on. just downy well-worn blankets and soft crumpled love-notes, happy welcome homes and the warm caramel of autumn apples. you will it go wrap around him and give him all the comfort he won’t let himself accept any other way.

no, you repeat. i get that.

i get that.

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related headcanons: rocket's movie & television tastes ✶ what if rocket finds the mcu movies? ✶ music and rocket & adam, pete & jason ✶ rocket & coloring ✶ rocket & origami ✶ rocket & lava lamps ✶ rocket & sudoku, crosswords & word-searches ✶ rocket & hanayama puzzles ✶ rocket sings

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