#I'm gonna have lots of thoughts about them later
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vivwritesfics · 1 day ago
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Hi Vivi!!! Can I request a soulmate!au (first words your soulmate says to you) with oscar piastri?
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i swear to god, i'm gonna deck you
those words had been printed on his skin since he turned eighteen, appearing with a burst of pain. according to several people, it felt much like getting a real tattoo. the healing process was just a lot easier.
i swear to god, i'm gonna deck you
it made no sense. everybody who met oscar thought so. what would he do to make someone angry enough to punch him? it being the first words someone would say to him made no sense, whatsoever.
oscar was thrilled. he kept it to himself just how thrilled he was. a soulmate mark that didn't make any sense. every time someone said i swear, oscar couldn't help but light up. but a second later and it was clear it wasn't his soulmate.
lando's sister was coming to vegas. you were coming to vegas. it was your first race since danny had lost his seat at mclaren, since lando had gotten his new teammate.
this was your first time meeting said new teammate. admittedly, you didn't care much. you had gotten on well with both Carlos and Danny, you didn't have to worry about this new one. plus, now lando was the older one between the two of them.
you didn't know why you waited until vegas. well, it wasn't actually waiting. it was finding the time to come and support your brother.
time you hadn't had for two years.
you didn't meet oscar right away. no, you were too busy with your brother. this was the most time you had spent with him for so long...
and you were already sick of him. here's the thing, lando was so damn annoying. but he was your big brother, and all big brothers were annoying. and with no buffer of your other siblings, you were getting sick of him.
when he flicked your forehead, you walked away to get some food. finding peace in the mclaren hospitality unit. goddamn the food was good, but that made sense, since they were athletes, after all.
someone was behind you. "i swear to god," you began, seething. "i'm gonna deck you."
but it wasn't lando that stood behind you. the words on your ribs burned as you turned around to face the stranger. "oh, wow, hi."
oh, wow, hi.
oh, wow, hi.
oh, wow, hi.
oh.
wow.
hi.
the words that had been on your ribs since the day you turned eighteen. your soulmate stood before. and he was none other than your brothers teammate.
fuck.
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grahstumhurts · 2 days ago
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3. "The Cutest pair"
Cheerleader!Megan x Loser Band member! Reader
Rekindling Masterlist
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A/N - Lowk "the cutest pair" by Regina song vibes but not exactly.
Wednesday comes fast, One moment you're hanging out at Megan's house, The other you're suddenly at a cheer practice which you never saw yourself at till you reconciled with Megan.  You're sitting on the bleachers, Megan’s letterman laid over your shoulders as you scroll on your phone. It feels performative, While on one hand for years and years you only pined for her. But now that you have her, Kind of, it's conflicting. It's not real, But damn do you wish it was. You hope part of her, wishes it’s real too.
“Hey” Megan yells from the grassy field, Giving you her signature puppy eyed smile. It melts a cold spot of resentment in your heart. “Come down, we are gonna go get food.” She blows you a kiss, Her friends giggle at her antics as they collect their things. You race down the steps into her wide open arms. Her scent lingering with her perfume and now combined with sweat.
“Hi, Megs” You kiss her sweaty cheek. “Gross your all sweaty, Go change.” 
“What? you don't like it?” She rubs her arms on you, Her friends whisper from the side, glancing between the two of you.
“What so you two are like, Actually dating?” Her friend Anya waves her finger around, gesturing at you.
“I thought I told you I was seeing Yn?” Megan slips her arms off your shoulders, Looking confused.
“I thought that it was just for us to stop setting you up with Greg. He really likes you,” Another one, whose name you don't know, comments.
“Just because Greg is Quinn’s brother doesn't mean I'm going to like him. He's clapped if anything, and not my type.” Megan sighs, rubbing her forehead in distress.
“Plus I am very happy with my current situation right now.” she wraps an arm around your waist to pull you into a side hug.
“I'm gonna head home, i'll talk to you guys later” She collects the last of her things and shoves them into her duffle bag, You follow behind her closely. As you pass her “So-Called��� friends, you glare at them on your way out.
“Your strong for that, you know?” You bump shoulders with her while walking to your car, she leans against the hood. 
“You wanna come over to mine or just go to your house?” You grasp her hand into yours, rubbing your thumb in between the ridge between her forefinger and thumb, Trying to soothe some of her nerves. 
“I dont wanna go home just yet,” She looks down at her feet, her bags next to her shoes.
“So?” You question the meaning behind that.
“Honestly just wanna be somewhere with you,”
“Oh,” She fidgets with her fingers,
“Unless you have somewhere to be tonight, Totally fine if you do.” She gives you a grin to hide some of the hurt from this afternoon.
“I don't,” You pause. Thinking about things to do, for just the two of you. “Why don't we go to my house, Pick up some food and go for a picnic tonight?”
“Really?” The thought of being alone with her, at the park, on a blanket, Just looking at the stars. It doesn't frighten you somehow. As much as it seemed like dating her would be a dream when you had a crush on her, its not as scary as you made it out to be previously. You two hop in the car and head off to your house,
“You wanna make a pit stop at the grocery store for some snacks?” You grip the wheel with one hand, The other holding hers. She nods,
“I wanna get some Fox’s Jam’n cream, They are so good.” You chuckle at her, "I've been so obsessed with them recently"
“Well let's not get too excited, This grocery store is kinda limited at times.” You pull into the store parking lot. 
-
“Ohhh! I used to eat these all the time after school as a kid” You pull out one of your favourite snacks, A packet of seaweed rice crackers (A/N Yes those are actually my favourites)
“I remember, You would never share with me.” She snickers, Remembering the times as kids you two shared. “I used to get so mad cause i shared my snacks with you”
“Fair enough, Kid me was kind of a bitch.”
“Kind of? Understatement” Megan coughs out the other half of her sentence. You shove her shoulder, giggling.
“Your laughs really pretty” She blurts out. When she realises what she says her face turns red.
“Thanks, Meg.” Your face feels hot when her words settle in your brain.
 She thinks your laugh is pretty. 
Your laugh is pretty. 
Is pretty. 
Pretty. 
You two silently shove more snacks into the cart, adding in some drinks along the way. The silence isn't uncomfortable, Like it used to be. But usually before she would fill the gaps in conversation with funny thoughts that pop in her mind. It's more relaxed, one could say that the two of you look like you’ve been dating for years. The silence is warm and it smells of citrus and vanilla.
(A/n if your perfume is vanilla scented just pretend that its whatever your scent is)
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Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV
Summary: All you wanted was for Ben to have a nice Thanksgiving, but when your daughter brings her new boyfriend over, all hell brakes loose! This one-shot takes place in You Call It Madness But I Call It Love universe! Reader is described as "Curvy."
Tropes: Fluff, Awkward Situation Over The Holidays, Bringing A Boyfriend Home For The First Time.
Word Count: 9.1K
Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing, Heated Kiss (a few), Sexual Innuendo, Implied Sex, Flirting, References to Sex (it happens quite a bit), Ben loves his wife, Ben REALLY loves his wife. Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). SOFT Soldier Boy. Soldier Boy might be a little OC.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person
A/N: Truthfully this is a lot of fluff and soft Ben, having a proper family Thanksgiving (well sort of). Really, just Ben showing how much he loves his wife... AND I had this completely unhinged idea forever ago, but everyone say thank you to @anna6307 for reminding me to write it. ❤️
You Call It Madness But I Call It Love Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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Soldier Boy POV
Ben reaches out his arm to your side of the bed as he wakes up without opening his eyes, but his hand finds cold empty sheets instead of your soft warm body.
His eyes blink open, the light from the open windows at the foot of the bed brilliant as he looks out at the view of the backyard, seeing the peaks of the thick trees that point upwards to the sky and just a glimpse of the sea beyond, sparkling in the early morning light.
It was Thanksgiving, Ben's first since he came back from Russia and despite his numerous insistences that "it wasn't a big deal" you weren't listening to him.
Honestly, what was new? Ben thought to himself with a sigh.
Holidays for him were always bittersweet.
When he was a child and in his teen years he spent the holidays at the elegant parties your parents threw in your family home sneaking eggnog and sips of whiskey from the flask in his coat while the two of you avoided his plastered father, and while he was with you he had a good time, but it was the quiet that came when he went home to the cold shell of his father's house that left a chill behind.
Truthfully, Ben would have just stayed at the boarding schools during the holidays if he hadn't been so eager to get back to you. He liked going to your family's parties, liked standing next to you and taking the brunt of your mother's disapproving glances. When he wasn't there he knew that she turned those looks on you and knew that she was less likely to make a comment about how you looked when he was a worthy target, and he was more than happy to take it, if it meant that he would get to see you smile and enjoy yourself.
Ben didn't care much for holidays, hadn't since his mother died, but he knew how much you loved them and he knew that you had sacrificed that love for them when you came with him to become a supe.
Your mother had banned you from your home the minute you told her that you weren't going to marry Howard and that you were going with Ben, and despite your father's insistences, your mother refused to let you return for Thanksgiving and for Christmas. Which meant that you were left with nowhere to celebrate and nowhere to go for the holidays you loved so much.
Ben did everything he could to make sure that the two of you celebrated in your own way. The early Thanksgivings were spent eating turkey sandwiches in Central Park, while Ben tried his upmost to make you smile, but the later ones were spent at the lavish parties that Legend threw. And no matter how many women tried to pull Ben away from you, he stayed beside you making sure that you were having a good time, but even at those parties you never seemed as happy as you had when you were back home in Philadelphia or when it was just the two of you.
It always made a sick feeling settle in the pit of his stomach, because it made him believe that you regretted coming with him.
But today would be different.
It would be the first Thanksgiving that Ben had spent with you since he left. You told him that Rosemary, Lou, and you always spent the holidays in the house in Maine and Ben didn’t complain. He liked the house and he liked how happy you seemed there, how you seemed to leave any anxiety you had back in the city.
And despite all the other Thanksgivings the two of you had spent at Legend's blowouts soaked with booze, Ben saw that you were genuinely excited and happy this year to celebrate, and it made him feel like he'd done something right for once.
But of all the things that Ben had learned about you after he came back, the fact that you liked to cook and knew how was still astounding to him. Sure, he had some dated ideas about what women's roles were, but when you'd still been a supe with him in the past Ben hadn't seen you cook once. The only time you'd gone into the kitchen in the past was to make coffee.
And hearing that you were going to cook Thanksgiving dinner almost made Ben start to look for pigs flying around outside.
He and you had come to the house in the Maine countryside early to get everything set up while Rosemary, Lou, Ryan, and Rosemary's new boyfriend were coming today to stay for a week. Ryan's school didn't give him the full week off, and Rosemary's boyfriend was working up until Thanksgiving day.
Ben frowned when he thought about Rosemary bringing home a man with her for Thanksgiving. He already didn't like the thought that Rosemary was bringing some random guy around Lou that Ben didn't know anything about and despite Ben not being around for forty years, he didn’t like the thought of some creep dating his daughter. Ben might not have been a huge influence in Rosemary's life, but the thought that some asshole was just screwing around with her made Ben furious. He knew exactly what men wanted from women and like hell some dipshit was going to get it from his daughter.
When he told you that you'd kissed him on the cheek and told him that he was "being cute" and that Rosemary was old enough to make her own decisions. But at least you hadn't seemed too keen on meeting the guy either.
When Ben had asked you if you knew anything about Rosemary's boyfriend, you'd said that Rosemary hadn’t told you too much, wouldn't even tell you his name because she didn't want you to "stalk him" so all you knew was that he worked at Supe Affairs, and that he was nice. Lou had piped up and said that whoever this guy was brought by flowers for Rosie each time he showed up and always made sure to bring Lou a sunflower because he knew how much she liked them.
Ben had tried to get Lou to tell him who this guy was or at least what his name was by bargaining with ice cream, but Lou had refused, said that she "made her mommy a promise" and that she "wasn't a snitch." Ben was proud of her for holding her ground like that and took her out for ice cream, but it didn't make him any less frustrated when he tried to figure out who it was that Rosie was bringing here for Thanksgiving.
Ben was racking his mind trying to remember a moment that he would have seen her and her boyfriend together at work, but Ben hadn't seen Rosemary talking to anyone new at the office, just the team.
Not to mention, Ben didn't want to be trapped in the house with the guy, listening to him rail Ben's daughter. There were moments where Ben wished he didn't have supe hearing, and that certainly seemed like a moment he wouldn't want it.
Rosemary felt the same way of course. She also had supe hearing and had woken up in the middle of the night the last time she stayed with Ben and you at the Maine house and had witnessed something that she said was "grotesque." Personally, Ben was no longer embarrassed about that kind of thing, not to mention he liked how loud you were and how loud he could make you, but you certainly hadn't been able to look your daughter in the eye for a week when you realized exactly what she'd heard.
And then you had made the rule of no sex while Rosemary was around.
Ben hated that rule and it was difficult for him. He didn't like going too long without touching you, not to mention he liked it immensely when you touched him, so last night Ben had tried to get it all out of his system and give you a little bit of stress relief from all the meal prep and cleaning. He hated seeing you so stressed.
Of course the rule also meant that Ben could tease you as long as he wanted to. And that usually lead to you dragging him out to the car to run “errands,” when the two of you ended up parked a few miles away running errands in the front seat of his car.
The window was open, allowing the chill in the wind to creep through the opening, the leaves on the trees beyond were burnished gold, red, and orange, and Ben could hear the crashing of the waves along the rocky shore.
He enjoyed being here as much as you did. Walking along the shore holding your hand, barefoot while the waves lapped at his feet, sitting on the couch in the den with you in his lap listening to music, watching you paint in the screened in back porch that you'd turned into your studio while he read his newspaper, and falling asleep with his body curled protectively around yours pressing kisses into your bare shoulder as you drifted off with a soft smile, holding on tight to the arm that was wrapped around your waist. He didn't think that his life would ever look like this, sure he'd thought about what it would look like to be with you, but he didn't know how he'd gotten it and he wouldn't trade it for the world.
Ben turns his gaze to your side of the bed to confirm what he already knew, that you're not there and he sighed.
Ben didn't like waking up without you, he also hated going to sleep without you, but waking up in an empty bed only made him think of all the mornings that he spent away from you, the mornings when he was away on a film shoot and to remedy how much he missed you he called just to hear your voice, other mornings when he'd wake up to a cold bed after whoever he'd slept with had left, and other mornings from his youth where he was away at another boarding school and he missed the weight of your body next to his.
Usually as you slept, you would subconsciously curl into him, and he would wake up with you on his chest, your head over his heart, your left arm curved over his torso to hold him closer to you. He liked that, because even if you woke up before him you didn't move. Instead you would stay there, pressing a kiss over his heart, running your hand up to stroke his cheek, or push his hair back because you know how much he likes it. It was a nice way to wake up.
With you there, smiling at him, looking at him as if he's all you see, as if you can see through him, through bones and flesh into his soul. And you never look away no matter how much you see. You accept him as he is, all the parts that Ben worked so hard to hide from the rest of the world like his father taught him, the other parts that he isn't proud of, and yet you love him.
You'd worn many titles over the years. His best friend, his teammate, the woman he loves, and now his wife. And at every stage, every ascension to a new name place, Ben still didn't deserve you and everything you did for him.
He never had and he knew that he never will. He'd never met someone so happy to love him, so eager to give him all of you even after all the shit he'd done to you, and so excited to spend the rest of your life with him. Ben's eyes drop to the ring on his left hand and he smiles to himself. It had been three months since the two of you stood in front of a small group of people, you radiant in white and holding a bouquet of lavender listening to him make a promise to love you and protect you for as long as he lived and him listening to you promise the same thing. It was the one thing the two of you should have done ages ago, but all Ben cared about was that he had you, that he wasn't going to lose you ever again, and that you were his and wanted to be his for the rest of your life.
And he couldn't have been happier. Ben had never been this happy in his entire life and he knew that it had everything to do with you.
Funny, if someone had asked him in the past if he was happy he would have said yes without hesitation, but now he knew that he wasn't. This was happiness, being with you, spending the rest of his life making up for the past, making you smile, and feeling the unconditional love you had for him each day as you eased any worries he had about expressing too much, when he'd spent his life expressing the bare minimum of emotions that he usually locked away.
But waking up in bed without you made him unhappy.
He frowned and sat up, the blankets falling away from his bare chest with the movement as he looks around the room for signs that you were there, but the bathroom door stands ajar and the bedroom door is cracked open.
Ben focuses his hearing and hears you downstairs banging around in the kitchen. He sighs again.
How long has she been down there?
He thinks with a groan getting out of bed and trying to find his sweatpants. Ben wasn't sure where you'd thrown them when you ripped them off of him last night, but after he finds them halfway under the dresser he makes his way downstairs. His fingers run through his hair, brushing it back away from his face, his bare feet padding down the hardwood stairs.
The smell of turkey, fresh bread, cinnamon, and cloves wafted up the staircase and there was a warmth in the large open kitchen that came from the oven and from the wide open bay windows above the sink where the rising sun bathed the room in a honeyed glow. Ben could see you swaying to music where you stood at the sink, trying to wash some of dishes that were stacked high over the lip of the marble countertops.
You had flour smudged on your right cheekbone, and stuffing in your hair that was tied back from your face with a bandana and you were wearing one of his oversized shirts and the pair jeans that Ben loved on you, the ones that hugged your curves just the right way to drive him crazy.
Truthfully, Ben was happy that you were getting more comfortable wearing things that actually showed your curves again, especially after all the years you'd spent being swaddled in monstrosities of lace, choked by shape-wear, and stuffed into clothes only created to hide the curves that drove Ben mad whenever he saw them. Even in your years as a supe, you'd been hesitant to wear anything form fitting, still feeling the cold disapproval of your mother almost decades after she'd been put in the ground. If anything Ben liked how curvy you were, he liked that you had just a little more that he could hold on to and squeeze.
And like hell Ben was going to let his wife feel insecure in her own body, especially in one that made him feel like he was a damn teenager again whenever he got his hands on you.
There were remnants of potato peels, bundled plastic wrap, and tops of carrots scattered like fallen leaves over the kitchen island. Not one piece of countertop was spared by the destruction of your preparation for Thanksgiving, only sweeping chaos left behind in your wake.
Ben expected that. Your art studio back at the apartment was the same way, and whenever he teased you about it, you'd only roll your eyes at him and say that "there was no point in a creative space without having a little chaos."
The speaker in the kitchen is blasting one of your favorites, "You're All I Need To Get By" by Aretha Franklin. Ben personally didn't like her work, thought that she catered more to a feminine audience, but he knew how much you loved her. He had taken you to a private concert once for one of your birthdays, sat through the entire thing trying not to  grimace, but each time he almost did, he'd look over at you and see how happy you were and he'd smile instead.
You were singing it to yourself, swaying your hips along with the melody in a way that reminded Ben of exactly what you'd done with them last night.
He couldn't understand how he got so lucky and again he wondered how he ended up here with you.
Ben leaned against the doorway to watch for a few minutes, trying not to make a face when you'd screech. You were never the best singer in the world and Ben had been subject to your singing more than once in all the time he'd known you, more often on nights when the two of you would go out for drinks at the bar down the street from your childhood home in Philadelphia. You would belt songs as loud as you could on the drunken walk home, wobbling on your feet, while Ben tried his best to keep you walking in a straight line and keep you steady to avoid you falling on your face and busting your lip open on the curb.
He steps forward into the room, creeping up behind you, reaching out to grab you when-
"If you're trying to scare me that's not going to work." You say, scrubbing at one of the stainless steel bowls in your hand with a scrub brush.
Ben snorts and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. You smelled like him again. "Didn't think you'd be able to hear me over the screeching."
"What screeching?"
"You trying to sing."
"I don't think you're exactly Frank Sinatra."
"Fuck, I miss that bastard. And the Rat Pack, we had some good times-"
"Yes. I remember something about you destroying a suite in Vegas and me sweet talking a cop to get you out of it." You hesitate, pulling your hands out from under the warm water. "Sinatra was quite the charmer, voice like velvet, not too bad looking and-"
"Just like me."
You laugh and lean back into his embrace, while Ben begins to sway you to the music. "I'm not too sure about that."
"Hmm." Ben sighs into your shoulder. "Why weren't you in bed when I woke up?"
"I'm sorry." You turn to kiss him on his bearded cheek, lingering for a minute longer in a way that makes Ben feel his heart thud an extra beat.
"What time did you get up?"
"5."
"Why the fuck have you been up for six hours?"
"Because I had to start cooking."
Ben can see the anxiety thrumming beneath your skin, settling over your shoulders, at the thought of how much you had to do. He didn't like it so he began to press his lips along the slope of your neck, feeling you sigh and relax in his arms as he pulls you closer against his body.
Fuck, you felt good.
You were always warm and soft in all the places that Ben was muscular and hard. You always fit so perfectly against him, in a way that made Ben refuse to believe that anyone else did. You were his in every possible way, had been his in every way since you were kids even if he was too afraid to admit it.
"I had to chop the carrots, boil the potatoes, make the pumpkin pie, stuff the turkey-" You continue with a sigh.
"You've been talking about stuffing that damn turkey for two days. Why don't you let me stuff something for a change?" Ben murmured, beginning to kiss down your throat, and moving his hands that were on your waist up under the oversized shirt you were wearing, trailing over your warm skin.
"You're a disgusting old man." You groan, but Ben can hear the smile in your voice without opening his eyes.
"You knew that when you married me Sweetheart." Ben smirks.
"Unfortunately."
"I think it's what you love most about me."
"No, I'm pretty sure it's how humble you are." You laugh at your joke and Ben squeezes you in response.
Ben moves his hand higher underneath your shirt stopping just below your bra, nibbling on your earlobe. "Come on Sweetheart, I want to have you one more time before Rosemary shows up."
"Ben-" You groan, your hands braced against the counter he'd pinned you against. "I can't I still have to-"
"By the time you finish arguing we could already be getting to the fun part."
You smirk at him over your shoulder. "Maybe I think the arguing is the fun part."
"Oh really?" Ben feels his smirk grow and this time he doesn't stop his hand from reaching past the edge of your bra and you gasp softly.
Ben couldn't get enough of the way you responded to him when he touched you, the sounds you made into his mouth when he made love to you, the little gasps, cries, and moans of his name that he replayed for himself whenever he was away on a mission and the ones he loved to recreate when he returned home to you. "Are you saying that you didn't have fun at all yesterday? Or last night?"
"No-" You say, trying to keep your voice even, but Ben can feel the tremor that courses through your body when the memory of what the two of you did comes roaring back.
"You're lying." He breathes into your throat. "You know I can tell when you lie."
"Ben really-"
Ben fits his lips over your mouth,  swallowing whatever excuse you were going to say whole. “As much as I like you in my clothes, I think it’s time you take this off.” He tugs at the bottom of your shirt.
"Ben I've still got to-" You try again, but this time Ben begins to suck a mark just under your jawline, next to the other one he left last night.
He liked doing that, as if the ring on your finger wasn't enough, Ben felt a primal urge to mark you so anyone who sees you knew that you were taken, and that you were his. He also knew that you liked it too. He could practically taste how much you wanted him against your lips, could feel it buzzing through your skin everywhere he was touching you. Ben loved that after all these years, he still had the same effect on you.
You sigh, reaching back to tangle your still wet hand in his hair. "You're fighting dirty." You say in a pout.
"By now you should know it’s the only way I know how sweetheart." Ben laughs against your skin, and he can feel your resolve begin to waver.
You groan again, tightening your hands in his hair and pushing your body back against his chest as his hands roam over the curves he loves so much.  "Fine." You mutter in utter defeat. "You get ten minutes, but if anything burns, Benjamin I swear I'm going to divorce you."
"I'd only convince you to marry me again doll." Ben chuckles. "And I only need 7."
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*Exactly 27 minutes later*
Reader POV
"I'm going to get the divorce papers as soon as I take this turkey out of the oven! You said 7 minutes Benjamin!" You shout reaching for the oven mitts that you left haphazardly on the counter before Ben dragged you back to the bedroom.
Well, dragged is a relative term given how he carried you up the stairs with your mouth locked with his and your hands tangling in his hair.  And you might have complained about how long the two of you were upstairs, but you don't think that you would ever complain about anything Ben did to you.
You couldn't. Not when you still couldn't quite feel your legs and could feel your heartbeat thudding hard against your ribcage while you tried to catch your breath.
You take a step on shaky legs towards the oven, but Ben intercepts. "Let me do that doll." He gives you a knowing smirk that makes you weak in the knees. "Wouldn't want you to drop it."
"I hate you." You mutter under his breath when Ben reaches in to pull out the turkey, not bothering to put the over mitts on. You didn't need them either, but you liked using the oven mitts, they made you feel normal.
"I love you too sweetheart." He winks as he puts the turkey on top of the crowded stove. "Looks good."
"I love how surprised you are that I can cook."
"You weren't exactly Julia Child before I went to Russia." He says surveying the different foil covered dishes on top of the stove.
"I had to learn how to cook after I had Rosemary, toddlers get kinda hangry if you don't feed them, but Melanie helped. Taught me everything I know. I owe her so much." You smile at the memory of the older woman who welcomed you into her home when you felt so lost after Ben broke your heart and was taken to Russia. The woman who was more of a mother to you than your own flesh and blood. It was Melanie who brought you back from the darkness that threatened to consume you in the wake of what Ben had yelled at you at the premiere after you walked in on him and Countess.
Something that you no longer stung as much as it had. Ben had made it up to you, and despite how many times you told him not to feel guilty over what had happened, and that you had forgiven him, he refused to stop making it up to you everyday. And you'd never been so happy in your entire life.
"I do too." Ben murmurs pulling you close to him again and dragging his fingers over the plains of your face to push back your hair.
You knew that he still felt guilty for not being there when Rosemary was a kid, but you believed that the relationship that he was building with your daughter was making it better. Although it had a rocky start, Ben and Rosemary were getting along a lot better than they had been. You attributed that to how close they were working together, but you knew that Ben was becoming more optimistic about their relationship.
 "And why couldn't Rosemary help cook some of this shit? Why does it have to be just you?" Ben frowns.
“She’s bringing some things. I just didn’t want to make her bring too much because she’s got Ryan and Lou.”
“And that asshole.”
“We don’t know he’s an asshole.” You snort.
“He’s a guy.”
“You’re a guy, Ben.”
He frowns, and you couldn’t help but think that it was cute how protective he was acting. “So? He’s probably some pompous jerk.”
“It’s her life. And trust me, after everything that happened with Charlie, Rosemary is definitely making sure that  he’s not a creep.”
“But why won’t she tell us who the fuck he is?”
You press your lips together into a tight line. You’d also thought it was weird how close lipped Rosemary was being about the guy she’d been dating, but whenever you tried to bring him up she refused to talk about him. You didn’t understand why she was being so secretive, but the last time you'd asked her why she wouldn't tell you she said that she didn't want you to "scare him away."
Honestly, it's like she thinks I'm Ben or something. And I was nothing but supportive about Charlie and look what happened to him!
But you trusted her to make a good decision, figured that everything that happened with Charlie made her more wary about who she fell into bed with.
You fight the wave of nausea when you think about Rosemary having sex with her boyfriend.
Please let them not have sex in the house.
You think with a shudder.
The last thing you wanted to hear was Rosemary and her boyfriend having sex in the bedroom next to Ben and yours. It had been embarrassing enough when she heard Ben and you the last time, before you instituted the rule that Ben barely followed.
To be fair you hated that rule as much as he did.
 Of course, you knew they were sleeping together. Whenever she'd come home late from a date and practically floated into her apartment on nights Ben and you babysat, you could smell him all over her.
What was even weirder was that the smell was familiar, but you couldn’t place it.
But you liked seeing how happy she was, she deserved that after everything that happened with Charlie.
“I don’t know, she probably doesn’t want to say so you won’t show up and do whatever this is that you're doing." You reply.
"And what the fuck do you think I'm doing?"
You smile and pinch his cheek, making his frown deepen. "Being absolutely adorable."
"Don't call me that."
"Why not? You are. I love it that you're going full protective dad mode." You smile.
"Don't tempt me doll."
"Oh baby." Your smile turns more into a smirk, working your hands up his bare chest and feeling a groan vibrate through the palms of your hands. "We both know how much you love it."
Ben's eyes darken in a way that reminds you of exactly what the two of you had just been doing that almost resulted in the burning of the turkey.
You arch up to kiss him, but right before your lips touch his, you pull back. "Go get dressed. I'll be up in a bit to change before they get here-"
"I was going to wait for you to do that." Ben's eyes are still dark when you turn to the stove to find the meat thermometer.
"Why?" You ask leaning over the turkey to inspect it.
Ben pulls your body back into his. "Because I figure you're going to need a shower and I thought we might as well save some water."
"You're insatiable."
"Only for you sweetheart." Ben's lips press against your ear, the warmth of his breath making goosebumps skitter over your arms. "We both know how much you love it." He murmurs using your own words against you.
One of these days, he's going to make me spontaneously combust.
But you did love it. You loved every minute you spent with him, loved the way he looked at you, loved the way he touched you, and loved the way Ben made you feel loved. The way you imagined this life with Ben when you were younger, was nothing compared to the real thing.
"Give me thirty minutes." You whisper kissing him once more.
"I'll be waiting."
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Reader POV
You fidget with the collar of the oversized black sweater, hoping that the edge is thick enough to cover the collection of marks on your neck that Ben left behind, while listening to the car come to a stop at the end of the long driveway outside the house.
Ben catches your hand to pull it away from the top of your sweater. "Why bother hiding it Sweetheart?" He purrs with a smirk, his dark hair still wet from the shower and hanging into green eyes that shine with mischief. Just as they did when you were kids, and even after all of these years, it still does the same thing to you. It still makes your heart beat an extra beat, still makes a warm tingle travel down your spine, and still makes your chest just a little tight.
"Because I'd like to not be covered in hickeys when I meet Rosemary's boyfriend for the first time."
He shrugs. "It's not like Rosemary doesn't know what we were doing before she showed up. He might as well learn early. And you never try to cover the marks you leave on me-"
"Because most of the ones I leave on you aren't as visible when you're wearing this many clothes." You roll your eyes, but give his hand a squeeze where it still holds yours. "And aren't I a little old to be having hickeys?"
"You're never too old for something like that doll." Ben leans down towards you, the mischief flickering into something else, morphing into the love that he'd shown you the minute he came back into your life. "Especially not when you keep me young."
"Well, you are older than me."
"Only by a few months."
"It makes all the difference. How does it feel to be old and rickety?"
Ben chuckles under his breath. "You didn't think I was old an rickety earlier."
The front door knob jiggles, stopping whatever you were going to respond with when Lou comes running into the room like a shot out of a cannon.
“Grandpa!” She crows and runs past you to leap into Ben’s arms.
As adorable as you thought it was how much that Lou loved Ben and how much Ben loved her, you couldn’t help but be a little bit jealous that Lou didn't say hi to you first. But the look on Ben's face when he hugs his granddaughter back makes all of that go away.
You remember how afraid you were to tell Ben about Lou and Rosemary, but each time you saw how genuinely happy Ben was to spend time with his granddaughter made your heart feel like it would burst. Because all you saw was the man you loved and the boy you grew up with. There wasn’t one shred of the persona Ben adopted as Soldier Boy and it made you love him more.
“Hey Louie.” Ben smiles picking up Lou so he’s not bending down. “How’s my favorite girl?”
“I missed you Ben!” Her little arms hug around his neck tight.
“Guess she didn’t miss me.” You mutter under your breath giving Ben a pointed look.
He only smirks at you over Lou’s shoulder.
“I missed you too grandma!” Lou says, her own supe hearing picking up what you whispered. “I just figured that Ben needs more hugs.”
“And why is that?” You laugh.
“Because you’ve been here longer and Ben has missed out on so many.” She reasons hugging Ben tighter.
The look in Ben's eyes when she says that shifts to something softer as he holds her close to him, hugging her back as tight as he dares. “Thank you honey.”
Ryan comes in next, holding a brown paper bag that must hold the sides that you asked Rosemary to bring with her, but she and her boyfriend still haven't made an appearance in the kitchen.
"Hey grandma. Happy Thanksgiving." Ryan smiles. "Where should I put this?"
"Just on the table is fine, but can I have a hug. I'm feeling a little left out." You joke throwing another glance at Ben and Lou.
Ryan hugs you half-heartedly. He was getting into his teen years, so things like hugs were always going to be a little awkward for a while, but you didn't care.
You liked that he was adjusting to his new life. He'd made a few friends at the school he attended, and Butcher would come by to make sure that Ryan was still doing his homework and to hang out with him.
You felt a little bad that Butcher would be spending Thanksgiving alone, you'd asked Ryan to invite him to come with them so Butcher could have a place to go, but Ryan had said that Butcher had "plans" and you'd missed the smile that Ryan hid when you turned away.
"Where's Rosemary?" You ask him when he pulls away.
"She's getting the bags."
"And you're not going to help her?" Ben raises an eyebrow at the teenager.
"But she's a supe-"
"That doesn't matter, go on." Ben nudges his head in the direction of the front door, a stern look on his face.
"But-"
"Don't argue with Ben." You say, gently pushing Ryan towards the door.
"Fine." Ryan mutters.
"I can help too Grandpa!" Lou cries, squirming so Ben knows that she wants to be put down.
"No sweetie." Ben puts her down, but she keeps a tight hold on his hand. "The only thing I want you to worry about is giving your grandma a hug."
Lou grabs on to you so tight that you're sure there's a bruise somewhere, but you don't care. You love your granddaughter even more than Ben, which was saying a lot, and Ben didn't need to know that.
I mean… he already knows.
"Happy Thanksgiving Grandma." Lou breathes.
"Happy Thanksgiving baby." You say, holding on to her.
You were happy to see your granddaughter, but you could feel the thrum of anxiety beneath your skin. You were a little nervous about meeting Rosemary's boyfriend. Maybe it was because you knew absolutely nothing about him, but for some reason it was making you more anxious than making a giant dinner for your entire family.
"Hey mom. Hey Ben. Happy Thanksgiving." Rosemary smiles at the two of you, holding a giant multicolored cornucopia of flowers. You'd told her that you wanted a centerpiece and despite being an artist for most of your life, Rosemary was better at merging together different flowers and textures to create truly awe-inspiring centerpieces.
You didn't know she did it, but each time she managed to surprise you with something that altered your brain chemistry.
"Happy Thanksgiving." You pull her in for a one armed hug. "Wow you've really outdone yourself with this one." Your eyes skate over the Sunflowers, red Daisies, orange Mums, and dark blue delphiniums in her other hand. There was a strong smell of cinnamon in the air, coming from the looped cinnamon sticks that she had woven in around the blooms.
"Thanks." She beams.
"Where's your boyfriend?" Ben asks, leaning against the counter. He'd be the picture of casual if you couldn't see the frown on his face, that he didn't even bother to hide.
"He's helping Ryan with the bags." She steps around you to move the centerpiece into the dining room, squeezing Ben on the arm as she walks past.
It makes you smile to yourself. Rosemary and Ben still had a long way to go before she was up for hugging him, but you could see that she was trying to get more used to him being around. You think that Ben marrying you helped. Not that Rosemary was old fashioned, but you think it solidified something in her head that Ben wasn't going anywhere and that he wasn't going to leave you again. You also think that Rosemary seeing the gentle way Ben was around Lou helped too, that Rosemary saw another side of him other than the side she'd seen in all those ridiculous movies, music videos, and pictures of Soldier Boy she'd seen growing up.
But you could also see the way it was making Ben feel better. When they first met he had been so discouraged by that way Rosemary treated him, but now when they spent time around one another you could see how happy Ben was and it warmed your heart.
You wanted Ben to feel like he belonged, it was his family too, not just yours. And every day you saw how Ben was starting to believe that more and more.
Ryan comes back into the room, loaded down with bags, but the man who comes in through the front door behind him isn't Rosemary's boyfriend, it's Billy Butcher.
He stops just inside the doorway, looking from you to Ben with an odd expression, as if he's not sure what to say.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Ben frowns at the man.
Ben barely tolerated Butcher, after missions he would come home and complain to you about something that Butcher ordered him to do. Personally you never thought that Butcher had Ben do anything that sounded like something Ben should complain about, but you knew that Ben had always had a problem following orders.
Weirder still was that Ben often said when he exploded on Butcher, it was Rosemary who would step in to try and calm Ben down. You didn't know why that was.
Honestly, you didn't hate Butcher, but you were wary of him. You thought he knew too much about your family and were often worried that he would sell all of you out for the right price. It did make you happy to see Ryan so happy with Butcher, but you weren't sure if you could trust him. He was one of the only people who knew what Lou could really do, one of the only people who knew what your power really was, and one of the only people who knew that Lou was the one who took down Homelander.
But at the same time you were happy that he was there. He was the closest connection that Ryan had to his mother, and you were glad that Ryan could have another person in his life who loved him. You'd seen what had happened with your own son and what happened to him when no one loved him. And you didn’t want that to happen to Ryan.
You elbow Ben hard in the stomach.
"What'd you do that for?" Ben asks.
Butcher clears his throat to say something, but you speak before he can.
"Please ignore Ben. I'm so glad you decided to join us. I was worried that you were just going to spend Thanksgiving holed up in your apartment. Ryan always talks about you when you're not here."
"Uh-" He clears his throat again and it's the first time that you’d ever heard him sound nervous.
You smile widely to make him feel more comfortable, taking his awkwardness as a reaction to what Ben said. "It's a good thing too, because I think I made way too much food."
"Right." Butcher clears his throat. "These are for you." He holds out a large bouquet of Lavender wrapped in crinkling brown paper towards you.
"Oh wow. Thanks." Surprise flits across your mind when you try to reason why Butcher brought you flowers, but you still take them. Ben seems to also consider this because, he frowns at the flowers as if he's debating whether or not to throw them away or if he should take it as a threat.
"Rose said they were your favorite." Butcher cracks an awkward smile.
The nickname makes you pause.
Rosemary hates it when anyone else other than us calls her by a nickname…
"And this is for you." Butcher holds out a bottle of whiskey towards Ben, who takes it, also confused by Butcher's sudden generosity.
"Thanks." Ben grunts, but he doesn't smile.
"You didn't have to bring us anything." You look down at the flowers, inhaling the fragrant blooms. "I mean, the invitation out here for Thanksgiving was not contingent upon gifts."
"I thought it was a good idea." Rosemary says, reentering the room with Lou following behind her. Butcher glances at her like a lifeline.
"Why?" You ask hesitantly.
A sick feeling begins to bubble in the pit of your stomach. You had a sneaking suspicion of where this was going, but you were still holding out for a miracle.
Ben looks past Butcher towards the front door of the house, looking for the boyfriend who was supposed to be getting the bags out of the car, but no one appears in the doorway. "How long does it take to get bags out of the car? Is your boyfriend hiding outside like a fucking pussy or something?"
Rosemary steps even closer to Butcher and this time she takes his hand.
Oh. My. Fuck.
"No. He's right here. Mom, Ben, You guys both know Will." She smiles up at him the same way that she used to smile at Charlie, when she was head over heels and nothing could drag her away. Her whole heart open and you can see the flicker of the same feeling reflected in Butcher's eyes when he glances at her.
It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room, the awkward silence hanging over you all like a anvil choosing a target.
If Rosemary had come in here and announced that she was pregnant with an alien's baby you would have been less surprised than what she has just admitted. It was so far out in left field that you felt half-way to China. You had no idea how on earth this had happened or why it had happened.
There's a high pitched cracking noise, followed by an audible smash, as pieces of what was the whiskey bottle rain down from Ben's hand. He'd crushed the whole thing by just flexing his fingers.
"Surprise!" Lou grins ear to ear, swinging from Butcher's other hand, unable to read the room.
There's an awkward silence hovering over the room in the wake of their confession. Honestly, you're not sure what you’re feeling. Sure, you felt a little bit betrayed that Rosemary kept it from you for so long, but the feeling racing through your veins was unnamable.
"Lou go upstairs with Ryan." Ben growls in a low voice.
You had no idea how to respond to this. The only voice in your head was screaming "WHY HIM?"
Because really, why Billy Butcher?
"But-"
"Listen to Ben sweetie." You say in a tight voice, your eyes not leaving Butcher and Rosemary.
Rosemary's smile falters for a minute, as Lou goes up the stairs and no one speaks again until you hear her bedroom door close.
"No." Ben states calmly, wiping his hand with one of the dish towels.
"No, what?" Rosemary asks confused. She's still holding on to Butcher's hand, who looks as confused as she does.
"No. You're not allowed to date this British Fuck!" Ben shouts.
"Calm down mate-"
"Don't you dare tell me to calm down!" He takes a step forward and you hold out your arm to stop him. The heat of his skin is burning through his clothes where your arm makes contact with the front of his shirt. "And get your hands off my fucking daughter!"
"You cannot tell me what to do Ben! I am a grown woman and-"
"I don't give a single fuck. You're not going to date this Son of a Bitch." Ben's eyes narrow, pointing with one finger.
"And I don't give a single fuck what you say! I'm forty years old and you don't get to tell me who I can and cannot date." She shouts back.
"I am your father-"
"You're just the guy who got my mom pregnant!"
"Hey!" You shout interrupting the retort that is about to come out of Ben's mouth. "We're not going back to that."
"But he's being absolutely-"
"Rosemary." You clear your throat, interrupting her. "How long?"
"I don’t see why that matters-"
"How long?" You say again, interrupting her.
"Four months." Rosemary replies.
Butcher still looks like he's unsure what to do or what to say.
"Four months…" You nod methodically, and then you lose your last shred of composure. "Four MOTHER FUCKING MONTHS?!" You shout. "Are you insane?"
"Mom-"
You hold up a hand. "No. No. You had your chance. You've been sneaking around with William Fucking Butcher for four months! Why didn't you tell us?"
"Because I knew you would react like this."
"React completely justified to finding out that you're dating the guy who has killed countless people and tortured others to-"
"Look who's talking!" Rosemary spits.
Ben's body goes taunt next to you and you can practically feel the air heat with the force of his anger.
"Don't you turn this around on Ben!" You snap. "We're not discussing him right now. We're discussing you and him." You make a wild gesture at Butcher who looks even more uncomfortable now that you've started shouting.
Probably was just expecting Ben to freak out.
"I don't care-"
"Well that appears to be seen." You sigh heavily and pinch the bridge of your nose, trying very hard to make the images of Butcher and your daughter rolling around in bed together dissipate.
They weren't and there were so many.
"I can't believe that you did this. That you're-" You can't even get the words out of your mouth.
"Will you just listen to me for one fucking minute?!" Rosemary screams over you.
"Don't talk to your mother like that!" Ben seethes.
"And don’t you talk to Rose like that you arrogant wanker!" Butcher mirrors taking a step forward.
"That's it!" Ben tries to step around you, but you shift to intercept.
"You're not going to kill him in my kitchen." You say to Ben.
"Thank you-" Rosemary begins to say.
"Let's take him outside and kill him there." You continue.
"Good idea sweetheart. Less mess." Ben agrees.
"No!" Rosemary is now standing between Ben, you, and Butcher, shielding him from the two of you. "I love him and I'm not going to let you touch him!"
Her words make you freeze.
Sure, Butcher was hot and sexy in a rugged unwashed sort of way but you'd never believe that Rosemary had fallen in love with him. You weren't even sure that Butcher was capable of falling in love with anyone else after everything that happened with his wife and yet here he was standing in your house, in your kitchen, holding on to your daughter's hand, looking into your daughter's eyes as if he had fallen for her.
Since Charlie, Rosemary hadn't been on one date, hadn't spoken about anyone or made a comment about someone that she met at work. Before Charlie, Rosemary had only had a handful of dates. He was her one big love, the one that she fell head over heels for, the one who swept her off her feet, and then shattered her heart.
You had not once seen Rosemary look as happy as she did in the years since Charlie, except on nights that she spent coming home from a date with Butcher. You wanted her to be happy, you wanted her to find the same love that Ben and you shared, you wanted her to find someone who understood her completely the way that Ben understood you.
"Mom." Rosemary breathes. "You once told me that love shouldn't be a burden or something that I'm ashamed of. That it's not prideful or selfish, it's about giving pieces of yourself to someone else and receiving pieces of them so the two of you become something wonderful together." She sighs. "I spent months pushing Will away because I didn't want what happened to me before with Charlie to happen again. I-"
Butcher's hand finds hers when he senses how upset she is, and the motion makes your throat thick, but you let her keep talking.
"I thought that I was in love with Charlie, that he loved me, but I wasn't. And when Ben came back I struggled for a long time to understand why you let him back in after everything that happened, after he said those things and did those things to you. But then I fell in love with Will and I understood." She looks at Butcher with a half-smile. "I love him. And sure maybe he annoys the shit out of me and maybe he has the maturity of a teenage boy and-"
"You're not exactly making me feel better love." Butcher murmurs.
"And maybe he's not the most patient man in the world." She snorts with a shake of her head. "But I love every part of him, even the parts that make me want to throw him out the window. And I understand now why you couldn't let Ben go. Because I'm not going to let Will go. And if the two of you hate that, then it's too damn bad. Because he's not going anywhere."
"I'm not." Butcher re-affirms. "Even if the two of you throw me out I'm going to keep coming back."
"Like a damn cockroach." Ben murmurs under his breath. He'd drifted closer to you, so close that you could feel the warmth of his body against your back, a comfort right now.
"Exactly." Butcher flashes a shit eating grin.
You can’t help but respect him for that. His confidence in the face of certain death was admirable, and you could see some of the traits that Rosemary found so lovable. In fact, you could see a few of them in the man you loved with all your heart.
The four of you stand in complete silence listening to the what she just confessed, her words still ringing in the air of the warm kitchen.
"Mommy can we come down yet?!" Lou shouts from upstairs.
It breaks through the awkward tension and makes you smile.
"Fine." You say after a minute, extending your hand towards Butcher.
He takes it surprised, his other arm wrapped around your daughter's waist.
You yank him forward. "But if you break her heart, I'm going to make you wish you were never born. Understand?" You smile as widely as you can, with Ben glowering over your shoulder for effect.
"Yes ma'am."
When they go upstairs to put the bags away you sigh heavily and lean back against the counter, your head spinning. Ben is almost deathly silent, watching the two of them go, with an unreadable expression.
"What?" You ask him.
"Nothing." He shrugs, his dark hair falling forward into his face. "Just thinking of all the ways I can kill him if he breaks her heart."
"Good. We can make a list together and compare notes."
"And just when I think I can't love you anymore, you go ahead and say something like that."
"It’s a gift." You snort, placing your hand over Ben's heart and looking into his green eyes. "Well, I wanted your first Thanksgiving back to be memorable, but I didn't expect it to be like this."
"Honestly, I thought that it would end in a fight."
"The day is still young."
"It wouldn't be a normal day for us without a few surprises."
"I hate to admit it, but you're right."
"Always am."
"No you're always full of sh-"
Ben pulls you in for a kiss, his hands curving up over your hips, thumbs brushing beneath the hem of your shirt against your skin. "Happy Thanksgiving Sweetheart." He murmurs into your mouth.
"Happy Thanksgiving Ben."
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A/N: Again, just a little holiday fluff from the fam!
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feroshgirlsims · 1 day ago
Text
Chapter 7.3 - You Can't Go Home
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As they filter off the train, the smell of iron gets further away and Akira finally begins to relax.
He asks her a ton of questions, partly because he's curious and partly because he wants to keep the focus off himself. Alice is in the middle of talking about her class when her body goes rigid.
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Akira scans for a threat but comes up empty. Train stations are generally pretty clear of supernatural creatures, except low-level spellcasters and baby vampires at night. They aren’t much use when you can transportalate, turn into a bat, or run for miles in wolf form. And the fae avoid them altogether. 
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“You good?” 
She flinches when he reaches for her hand. “I-I’m fine,” Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Do you smoke? Weed, I mean, not cigarettes. I…I think I’m gonna smoke. Do you wanna come with me?”
“I thought you said you had to turn this assignment in,” he reminds her.
She stares across the platform, but he still can’t figure out what she’s looking at. 
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“I’ll do it later. And you don’t have to come. That was weird of me to peer pressure you,” her laugh comes out high-pitched and wrong, “You're probably busy. I’m good. I’m gonna go. And you’ll go, and I’ll just see you later.”
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She's babbling and her hands are shaking. There is no universe where he just leaves her like this.
“Yeah, I smoke," he takes her hand and leads her to the exit. "And I got time. No classes, remember?”
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Akira has been to the Commons a few times (for creeper reasons), but he's never climbed the tower. The air is especially crisp, but Alice doesn't seem bothered by it.
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Despite resisting earlier, he finds himself wishing she would extract some promise from him—some commitment to keep him tied to her. It's a terrible idea. He knows better. Akira has always been careful not to break one of the rules he’d learned by brute force.
“This is a shit weed,” he coughs.
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“Hey!” Alice playfully points an accusatory finger, “I invite you to my secret perch and share my paltry stash, and you insult me?”
“You need a new dealer if this is your stash.”
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“And a new bank account!” She laughs. “Try to chillax, my dude; you are working against the medicinal benefits.”
He tries. His lungs fill, but it takes three more rounds of coughing before he evens out. Alice, meanwhile, is a professional. She barely coughs, though she's had twice as much as him. He's not even sure she's high.
"Why photography?" he asks when she joins him on the bench.
"Most of the time, I get asked about painting; no one even thinks about photography."
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He shrugs, "Your focus isn’t Fine Arts. Why am I gonna ask you about something you don’t do? You want me to guess?" When she nods, he waves a hand across the sky, pretending to paint a picture. "Art lets you remake the world in a more pleasing image, which is kind of nice because the world is shit. But you do photography because you want the shitty stuff upfront. No lies. You'd rather tango with the truth."
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She straightens, suddenly alert. "Maybe. Kind of. But photography is also lies. All you do when you snap a picture is capture a moment in time. You can still tell yourself a story about the emotion you saw or what really happened. It's just a different kind of lie from painting."
The weed is definitely kicking in, but he likes her explanation.
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"So what are you studying?" she asks.
Direct questions are the hardest to dodge. Especially now when he feels like he’s floating a hundred feet in the air. "I'm studying nothing," he says honestly. "I just follow what interests me."
"Why?"
"Because I have a lot of time." Infinite, actually, if he kept his head attached to his body and didn't end up on the wrong side of a curse.
"If I had time, that's what I'd do too. And catch up on back seasons of 7 Wild Dates."
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Akira laughs, "Stop. I changed my mind. That show is moving to the bottom of my watch list."
“Don’t be mean!” Alice sticks out her tongue, "That's quality programming you're missing."
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They smoke more and talk about nothing, which feels like talking about everything because Alice leaps from topic to topic. She knows a little about a vast number of subjects, like knowledge for her is a series of wading pools and she's just hopping from one body of water to another.
It's how Akira operates too. Once he gets the gist of something, he's ready to move on.
“Tell me one thing about you so you can stop accusing me of hanging out with a stranger," she says, "Where are you from?”
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A flash of pink sky. 
A veil that never seems to part.
A home he can’t get back to.
The yearning is so real he jolts. “What if I told you that nothing about me or my life is what it seems? And because I don’t want to lie to you, you’re probably gonna find I won’t answer all your questions. Maybe any of them.”
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Alice thinks for a minute. “I guess I’d say tell me what you can, not what you can’t.”
Akira wants to praise her wordplay. He wants to kiss her. He does neither.
“I love horror movies,” he confesses, “When I was like, 10, I snuck into the Moonlight Massacre Marathon at the theater downtown, and I was fuckin’ hooked.” 
The whole story comes tumbling out, even the part about Titania being a little shit and ratting him out to their parents. Alice laughs and complains about her step-sibling, and Akira viciously guards every drop of information she shares with him.
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“I like horror movies too. If I throw in Moonlight Massacre II, will that elevate 7 Wild Dates on your watch list?”
His phone buzzes with a reminder about tonight’s job. He gets to his feet. “Next time,” he tells her.
“You promise?”
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A promise is a dangerous thing. 
—A binding thing. 
A vow. 
No promises. 
Akira nods, “Yeah, I promise.”
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PREV | NEXT
(Part 3 of 4)
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unsat-and-strange · 8 months ago
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I started malevolent (aka I found a new blorbo to chew on)
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oxventure-text-posts · 3 months ago
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I'm gonna be honest with you guys, the urge to do the same thing I did with the oitd silhouettes, aka slap text posts onto the art with no knowledge of their canon personality other than what they did in the trailer and pulling from the fandom's perceived personality for them, for the new oxventure characters revealed in that trailer is so real
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lighthouseas · 1 year ago
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alright friends i'm not gonna lie i wouldn't mind if the byler kiss had will leaning in first. or like. will kissing mike first on impulse during a heated moment. and then he regrets it immediately after because he thinks mike doesn't reciprocate (even though he obviously does) because mike just stands there for a second like 🧍🏻‍♂️ before swooping in to kiss will back
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sassyfever · 7 months ago
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Now that the new mini arc is finally starting Imma make a couple predictions. Angelina is now a bizarre doll and ✨coincidentally✨at the hotel. Grelle is also there. For drama's sake you know how it goes.
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daz4i · 10 months ago
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how and why is there discourse about whether or not certain queer identities exist/if people should be allowed(???) to use them. why is "people know their own identity better than you ever could, and they're the only one who get a say on what they are" such a tough concept to grasp
i think if you find yourself offended by the label someone uses (especially if they're a stranger) or think it invalidates your own, it's a good idea to look inside yourself and question why that may be. more often than not, it's a result of insecurity or uncertainty of your own identity (or many other things, but i won't make a whole list here). whatever reason it is, until you resolve it, you shouldn't take it out on people for having an identity you don't understand
many have said it before but it's worth saying over and over. infighting only helps our oppressors. conservatives don't care if you're a cis gay or a xenogender aegosexual aplatonic lesbian, they hate all of us either way. trying to fit in by going for people who are easier targets for them isn't gonna help you, it'll just alienate you from your own community, and you're never gonna please them. the momentary rush you get from hearing you're not like "one of /those/ gay people" is not worth it and is gonna do more harm in the long run, i assure you
also, it is important to me to say this, but having some less than nice kneejerk reaction caused by confusion about an identity you don't understand doesn't mean you're a bad person or anything. as long as you aren't mean to that person, and you take a second to think smth along the lines of "wait a minute, this isn't any of my business" after having said reaction, you're good 👍 a lot of reflexive reactions we have to things are ingrained into us simply by. well. living in a society 🤡 and you're not terrible for having those thoughts. it's your actions that matter, and your second thought (the "wait, why did i just think that?") is more defining of your actual character and morals than your reflex. i know that having thoughts like this, even tho they're unwanted, can very easily make one spiral, so it's important to me that whoever needs to hear this knows this doesn't make you a bad person 🙏 you're good, keep taking actions to be good, accept other people even if you don't understand them, and you're on the right track :)
#i considered adding that last part in the tags but i figured it'll be too long for that 😭#i noticed i'm posting a lot of rants lately. sorry. but i do wanna make sure no one's actually feeling bad over them#if i complain about something that you do or call it mean and such. that doesn't make you a bad person#you can always work to change and grow 👍 it's not easy but it starts with smaller steps than you'd expect#and now i just switched to a whole other topic from my original point. oops#i do firmly believe that any discourse about someone's identity is dumb as fuck#seeing it in poll blogs always makes me 😐😬 like how is it any business for any of us. why is this up for debate#if a person says they're queer then they are. they don't need to pass some test or go through initiation to be accepted#if they feel comfortable with a certain word that's awesome. why does it matter to *you* which word they use#'they're only using this microlabel to feel special' so? is there anything wrong with that?#'this label contradicts [insert other identity that falls under the same umbrella]' ok. but does that hurt anyone in any way#a lot of identities can even be self contradictory. does it matter tho? does it affect anyone in any way?#'they might realize that label is wrong later' again. what's the harm in that.#i don't blame anyone for these thoughts bc like. this is how cishets view a lot of the even more common labels#so you're basically taught to think this way from day one. that doesn't mean you need to stick to that thought process#you might have these reflexes forever no matter how hard you try. but you'll get quicker about moving on from them#but you do have to try. you do have to realize that other people's identities aren't about you#anyway. this post feels like batting at a hornets nest. really hope i don't get some bad faith readers here lol#(i noticed a lot of places one could apply bad faith but like it's 3:30 am i'm too tired to add this many disclaimer.#so i'm gonna trust you to not jump to conclusions and to approach this in good faith okay? mwah 🖤)#also my whole ramble abt morality (in the tags too) is relevant to. any topic really#i may just make a separate post about it really. .....tomorrow tho.
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sherlock-is-ace · 7 months ago
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#not having a great time today after my mom commented on my interests#i'm a person that is interested in shit i don't know this is why i'm very likely to follow disabled youtubers#in my time i have watched molly burke. multiplicityandme and a collection of autistic youtubers (guess why lol)#and my mom made a quite patronizing comment about how i ''take on causes'' by learning about stuff#and/or supporting fun and interesting youtube channels#but anyways it sucks even more because on her comment she made it clear (once again) that she doesn't believe me when i say#i might be autistic. and it fucking sucks!#because when i first talked to her about it even I didn't know much about it. i was just starting to do my research#and i was trying to make sense of things still but she dismissed it#but now that i do know more and things do make more sense#i can't even bring it up because the fact that i have been watching a lot of youtubers talk about autism will make her think#i'm just trying to be like them... which is stupid#but it's also the reason i didn't tell her that my best friend in my teens was trans. because i was trying to figure shit out myself#and telling her he was trans and then a bit later that i am as well was going to make her go ''everyone's trans now blah blah''#and dismiss that as well... but now i'm trapped in the same thing about autism lol#and her stupid loophole of a dismissal isn't just by saying ''no you're not autistic'' it's saying this like ''well MAAAAYBE you COULD be#but that doesn't mean anything and it doesn't matter and why would you want a diagnosis if it's not gonna change anything''#same thing as her whole ''sure you're a man but why do you have to look and act differently? YOU know who YOU are#who cares what others think?'' in a don't transition way#like that's so stupid!#dkfjhkdfhkdfg#i'm angry and i feel trapped#i have figured out a little bit ago that i don't stim near as enough as i need to BECAUSE i live in the same house as her#and the idea of ear defenders and other stuff like that is very appealing but i can't do that while she's around to judge#and IN PUBLIC?! that's unthinkable!!#i still remember the time she threatened with not going out with me (to the supermarket) because I commited the huge crime of#buttoning the top button of my button up shirt....#that's it. that was the whole reason.. she thought i looked ridiculous and she didn't want to be seen with me...#imagine if i wear ear defenders out...#not gonna risk it lol
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thethingything · 11 months ago
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debating booking a dentist appointment with a private practice that's got really good reviews that keep mentioning the dentists being really understanding and gentle with patients that have anxiety.
I'm still not sure we can even handle an appointment but at the same time it feels like our wisdom teeth are getting increasingly painful and I'm scared something's gotten infected
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sysig · 11 months ago
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Your Weekly TV Guide
On Monday you can expect:
2:30 PM: Skeleton Zine
And Tuesday:
2:30 PM: Sonas ft. Undertale
Wednesday:
2:30 PM: Halfway Autumn
Thursday:
2:30 PM: Handplates
Friday:
2:30 PM: Sona reacts to Handplates
Saturday:
2:30 PM: Undertale (Handplates?)
Sunday:
2:30 PM: Handplates
Thanks for tuning in! (Patreon)
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non-un-topo · 2 years ago
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Had to say goodbye to my favourite professor yesterday, who’s retiring ;_; Tears were shed, hugs were had. And she said she’d like to keep in touch with me and now I’m freaking out because I don’t know how dfgfds
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danmeichael · 2 years ago
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i’m polite and i’m not going to um actually someone on their own post because their thoughts and feelings have intention and nuance that are not visible to me as an outsider in their brain but if you’re wondering, the reason visual mediums emphasize height differences between characters is (sometimes size kink but also) to add visual contrast between characters and emphasize their personalities and how other characters perceive them through their designs.
a character who is described as imposing and bulky will 100% of the time be drawn exaggeratedly tall even if they are only a couple inches taller than the POV character.
characters that are young will be drawn exaggeratedly short in highly stylized series because that’s a very clear visual indicator of their youth. yes highschool students are usually a similar size to the adults around them, but making highschool students shorter than their teachers visually emphasizes the divide between adult and child. Have you ever seen series where characters that are like, 7 years old come up to the knees of adults? yeah that’s not how it works but it easily says to the viewer “this is a tiny baby child”
character heights may also seem to change between scenes to emphasize the emotions of the people in those scenes. a normally tall character may be drawn small in contrast to another in order to visually express the characters’ feelings of helplessness, or to emphasize how cool and impressive the impossible odds of the battle are.
realistic heights are often just not as visually diverse. they feel bigger and larger than life when you experience those height differences in the real world, but when put 2D onto paper or screen it just doesn’t feel as impactful. so artists remake the impact through exaggeration
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medicinemane · 2 months ago
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I don't know, I get tired of a lot of positivity
Like yes yes, the world's wonderful and I'm so strong or whatever generic thing is being said (because it's always so generalized to the point of meaningless), but you know shit is what it is, and the only way forward is with changes I manage to make... which you're not helping with at all
And as for like... my internal mood, I'm deeply isolated, sorry if hollow platitudes don't sooth the gaping maw inside me
It is what it is, and I probably get my shit together enough to do stuff like teach out of my basement like I'd like, it's just I believe that I'll be alone in a crowd like I've always been
But positivity... I just... I kinda get sick of it. There's this guy on youtube I watch who talks about economics stuff, he's recently started doing positivity and... I just fucking know his personality enough where it's like sorry mate but I'm not interested in hearing you spout Secret light kinds off drivel
...I don't know, I suppose it boils down to this
One, I can barely fucking take in positive things said directly to me, about me. Generalizations don't help even a little... I'm a mess, I'd really like someone to toss me a life preserver instead of always tossing confetti at me while I struggle to stay afloat... doesn't help
Two, the world is a terribly imperfect place, and rather than taking a mentality of "everything will work out", I think it's important to acknowledge that sometimes good people live alone, die alone, and they never got the break they needed and slowly bled out
I think it's worth knowing that if you can't step in and help yourself, then maybe no help'll come at all
...I don't know, I suppose in the end the core of what I'm saying is a lot of positivity seems like self help tier stuff and... I get tired of that, and I see so many good people struggling and... eh... either I can at least come in and say something positive custom fit to them, or I can keep my mouth shut
Just fucking let me rot. Help or let me fester on my own, you know?
I got rid of the trailer, I maybe did something like cleaning though I can't tell... at what point will my pace on trying to make things better be good enough for people, and I'll be able to stop having people tell me to fix my life... as if I hadn't thought of that already
...everyone means well, it's just tiring
#it's like when people make you being suicidally depressed about them#I... don't really want to say some more specific details cause they might be able to pick themselves out of a line up#but it's just like... man... is this more about trying to get me in a better place; or about making you feel better#wears me out#mm tag so i can find things later#just seems impossible for people to not offer advice on things#the thing people never think of with advice; is that people living a situation often have thought about that situation a whole lot#it's like why... with my friend that's looking for theatre jobs; I don't offer a lot of advice because I figure they've done quite a bit#just kinda... offer to help the best I can and ask what they need; and then mostly just listen#it's not like I never ever say anything; it's just I try to back up advice with something concrete#like... for instance if I wanted to suggest someone do therapy; then I'm gonna be offering to help them find a therapist as best I can#cause I get that it's not like you just 'go to therapy'... getting started on things is often the hardest part#eh... keeping this as vague as possible cause I want the actions I took not the details#but when I had a friend who was someone who didn't treat them at all well#I didn't directly try to get them to leave cause I know that... it's hard; they were in deep#instead I just made sure to validate their perception of reality a whole lot#counter the literal gaslighting by just pointing out that they made sense and questioning how reasonable their partner was#and then I attempted to get them in touch with some other people so they were less isolated and had other people to validate them#and thankfully they're not with that person anymore; they're doing a great job at life and are much healthier now#...but advice... honestly I don't think I gave them much#I more asked leading questions to try and shine a light on things; or would brainstorm about what to do with various stuff#they were real stuck; and it was painful to see them stuck in such a bad situation; but... better to sit with them than push push push#it felt like if I gave them my actual advice; dump that abusive freak; they couldn't have heard me#it was easy for me to tell them the solution; but that didn't account for all the barriers to implementing that solution#in this case; many of the barriers were internal; but internal or external; barriers are barriers#I don't know... I just think sometimes you gotta be comfortable sitting with discomfort along side someone#unless you got an actual fix; and you're willing to put in the work to fix it... shut up about fixing and just be there for them#mhh... we'll take one of the only things I'm actually capable of doing instead of something more serious#if someone wants a minecraft server; I can either fucking help them set it up; or I can kinda keep my mouth shut#if I'm not helping them set it up; I can give them shit like 'that sounds cool; I bet you could do it'
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the-acid-pear · 6 months ago
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Yesterday I had 3 thoughts but I was like I'll remember tomorrow I won't wake up to type them now and I forgot two BUT I remembered one of them so that's huge
#luly talks#something w Lucis and Dee. I'll draw it later#it's very important to have two ocs for the same franchise so they can do things the other can't#girls who died as kids but are now on their 20s...#i did think a lot about lucis biology and i remember joking about them only being a demon bc they're argentinian#though that's a bit silly ambiguous bc like. sure in their comic everyone is a monster but like#they're also more psychotic than me so there was a thought of them being actually just human and seeing everyone like this bc bleeh!#lucis story really is one of neglect isn't it#i mean same one i faced but worse#bc lucis got too silly w it#i also thought a bit about their biology i think I'm gonna implement the angel demon thing with their grandma being a form of angelic being#but (bio) grandpa a demon#hence why their dad and them are one too#and well something that is STILL canon is that their mom is a clown but clowns are a kind of imp#so that's why their little brother is impish#idk what their step dad would be but i know their older brother would be part ram bc. its funny#he's an aries you see.#but i didnt just think of lucis in general i had had thoughts about dsaf i forgor 😢#aside from this one 👍#i mean i remember L.L. having a breakdown too but WHEN arent they not having one?#something about midori but i remember that too well to be one of the forgotten memories#like i vaguely recall something w the phoneys either harry or pete but nothing coherent#i do remember i y#thought of drawing jake w high heels pussy puss puss style but i think that was something i thought in the afternoon#you people can't imagine how many thoughts per second i experience y'all literally get such a mostly sanitized version of it#I'd make a chart of Lucis' relationships w her coworkers tho........ i rlly like Lucis lmao#OH SHIT I REMEMBERED I THOUGHT OF MIDORI AND DTRAP INTERACTING id think of that further there's something there ok#<- related to l.l. of course. her daughter etc.
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