#I'm like....lol....half the age of a lot of my employees

[creepyscritches]

23 year olds acting like they're suffering under the brutal weight of aging only gets weirder and weirder the older I get. You are transitioning from teenager to young adult and if anyone is making you feel old for it, you're probably still surrounded by children. Don't be weird to the other adults in the room bc you have a hang-up on the passage of time.

[sugurusdiscordmoderator]

barista suguru and reader has the biggest crush on him that they try to ask him out but got too nervous to do so!! however.. reader suddenly see him at a party they were invited in, and what does alcohol do to a person sometimes? confidence, and they hook up (eventually got together??) I'm not sure if this request makes sense, and English isn't my first language..

omg hi anon thank you for the ask - not sure if you're an AOT fan but @humanitys-strongest-bamf has an amazing fic similar to this w Levi and its god tier

anywaysss here we go <3

(The ages in this are all fucked up lol, Megumi, Nobara, and Yuji are 22 and Gojo, Geto, and Shoko are like 25)

content warning: Haibara and Nanami are lovers lmao, weed, alcohol, cigarettes, hookup culture

(this is my original drawing please do not repost)

-

Being well known on your college campus is a blessing and a curse. You loved being involved in a lot of clubs and participating in social events. Going to the library or trying to study was nearly impossible with how many people knew you. However being a senior, you needed to focus and get things done. You lived a little ways off campus to save money and started frequenting a little coffee shop a few blocks from your apartment.

The first time you stopped, you had been walking home from class when a storm with bad winds blew in, and you decided to just study in this cafe until the storm passes. There are little tables all throughout, you grab one near the back and pull out some of your course materials and get started writing notes and going over chapters for your quiz in a few days. That is when a yawn washes over you and the exhaustion from late nights sets in. You figure you might as well get a drink while you're at this coffee shop.

Walking up to the counter you squint up at the menu board trying to decide what you're in the mood for.

"What can I get for you?" a man's voice asks.

Lost in your indecisiveness you don't even look down to make eye contact reading between Americano, Latte, Cold Brew, etc.

"Mmmm, not sure yet, I may need a few minutes," biting your bottom lip thinking about how much caffeine you want to intake today.

"We also have a list of specials down in front of you," he says politely and you see him walk away out of your peripherals.

The thing is, you're not a huge coffee person. Half the time it's too sweet, half the time it's too bitter. The caffeine gives you jitters and makes you anxious. Also sometimes coffee just messes your stomach up so you just have given up on expensive coffee places and opt for making your own shitty coffee at home.

You glance down at the specials list, reading them to yourself,

"Almond Joy Latte

Sparkling Green Tea Refresher

Pink Velvet Cold Brew

Barista's Choice"

You finally look up at the employee, a tall man that is turned around cleaning the espresso machine. His hair is pulled back into a cute bun and his frame is just large. You look at his hands, so large and strong with some veins protruding. He has a black button up on with the sleeves rolled up, exposing tattoos on his forearms. Matching it with black pants and a black apron, he looks kind of dark and mysterious.

He turns around and catches your eye, forgetting all the words that were about to form in your head.

"Still need a minute?" He squints his eyes a little and smiles softly as your eyes rake over his whole face. He has a piece of black bangs sticking out from the bun, pierced ears, a lip ring, amber eyes, and an amazingly chiseled jaw. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out and you can feel the heat spread across your cheeks.

"Uh, I, sorry," you shake your head and try to laugh at your own stupor, "Can I do the barista's choice?"

He nods, "Any preferences?"

"Uhm, no, whatever you like," you completely lie through your teeth trying to seem chill. He taps in the order on the iPad at the register and flips it over for you to pay and sign. At least it isn't too expensive if you don't like it, but you eagerly press the "25%" tip button hoping Mr. tall, dark, and handsome appreciates it.

"I'll bring it over to you when it's ready," he smiles and nods his head towards where you were seated.

"Thanks," you smile awkwardly walking back to your course materials, although it's not like you'll be focusing on anything other than the barista soon. You not-so-casually watch him work, obsessed with a man you've hardly spoken to once.

A few minutes later he brings over a cute tea cup and saucer, and you immediately smile when he sets it down, seeing the little design on top.

"It's a dirty chai...like a chai tea latte with a shot of espresso in it and a little special touch. Let me know if you like it."

The man smirks and walks away before you can even properly thank him. You burn your tongue eagerly taking a sip too soon, trying to find another excuse to talk to him. You try to take your mind off of it by scrolling through instagram for a bit while drinking your latte but around this time of year its all couples and engagements and babies which only adds to how down bad you feel. You get a text from your friend Nobara letting you know that a friend of her friend, Megumi, is having a party Friday and the friend told Megumi who told Nobara that they could bring whoever. After deciphering the word vomit of a text she sent you you send back a "thumbs up emoji" letting her know you'll be there because nobody else has invited you anywhere yet.

You finish your drink and decide to pack up your stuff and head home, a few blocks in the rain won't hurt you. It might cool you off from thinking about the dreamy barista you just met. You set the cute mug on the counter, and he turns around when he hears the noise. He raised an eyebrow, as if asking 'how was it?'

"It was great," you smile, "uhm, have a good one," you slightly shrug and turn around to go before he can add anything, just like he did to you earlier.

-

The next few days are uneventful, you walk by the coffee shop every day on your way to campus, wondering if he is working or if you should go in, but not wanting to struggle to pick a drink or pay for coffee again.

On Friday Nobara walks back to your apartment with you, she commutes in to town so whenever there is a party or something going on she crashes on your couch. She eyes the little cafe, "Want coffee? I think tonight might be pretty fun from the sounds of it!" She practically squeals and you find it adorable how excited she is. "Sure" you grumble, holding the door open for her.

She waltzes right up to the counter, decisive as always, and knows exactly what she wants. You trail behind her, not seeing any employees at the counter, squinting up at the menu board yet again. That's when you hear giggling come from the back room and see the handsome barista come out with some supplies, followed by a cute girl with a short brown bob who seems to be helping him.

You can't help but think about his beautiful laugh, and how you can hear it again.

"See ya tonight Shoko" he says, putting his apron back on and refocusing his attention to Nobara.

"Bye Geto!" This so called Shoko calls back to him as she walks out the front door. You cant help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the way he was in the backroom with his apron off and laughing with a girl.

Like girl - quit being delusional, you just heard his name for the first time and he probably doesn't even know who you are.

"Y/n, what do you want?" Nobara interrupts your talk with yourself.

"I'll have what she's having," you say overly confident, smiling at Geto. They both side eye you and you just remain oblivious, opting to go on your phone as you let your friend pay for your coffee as payment for her 'hotel' for the night. The two of you move out of the way and stand off to the side waiting for your drinks while Nobara talks about how Megumi's other friend Yuji is going to be there tonight with his big brother Sukuna and how excited she is because they're both sooo attractive. You nod your head along with what she says while scrolling on your phone. It's not that you don't care what she's saying, it's just that she knows so much about everything. All the gossip on campus is at your fingertips because of her, good or bad. You zone out staring at whatever drinks the barista is making, watching his damn good looking hands do his job. He walks over to you with two cups and you can't help but just stare at him. His outfit today consists of jeans and a tight black tshirt with a flannel jacket over top.

"Two iced matcha lattes with coconut milk and a strawberry cold foam on top," He smiles as Nobara eagerly grabs both of the drinks and hands one to you.

She sips it right away, "This is the best I've ever had thank youuu," she dramatically draws out while pulling you out the door heading to your apartment again. You look back to see him watching you leave and give a small wave with the hand that is holding your drink. You can't tell if you're imagining it but you think you see a faint blush over his cheeks.

-

You and Nobara enjoy your typical pregame activities, getting ready together, listening to music, and sharing a blunt.

"The guy at the coffee shop was checking you out," she half slurs, talking while applying her lip gloss.

"What makes you say that?" You think she's messing with you but you also hadn't told her about your little crush.

"When I was ordering he was staring at you the WHOLE time. Like he didn't even make eye contact with me I don't think!" She wines, "God it's not fair he's so gorgeous."

"To be fair Nobara, you think most guys are gorgeous" You giggle and walk towards the freezer to grab some liquor. "Speaking of gorgeous men, who's party are we even going to tonight?"

"I think it's at some guy named Satoru Gojo's house? I guess he's good childhood friends with Megumi from when he didn't really have a dad." There goes your friend, sharing other people's business when she didn't really need to.

"Mmm," you nod and throw back a shot of liquor, "I think I had a class with him when I was like a freshman and he was a senior. A real interesting character."

"Maybe you can introduce me and I'll get lucky," Nobara raises her eyebrows at you.

"You will not be having sex on my couch." You say sternly before you both erupt in a fit of giggles. Gathering a few last minute things before heading out, you also grab a reusable shopping tote and fill it with a little bit of your own alcohol, you never know what they may or may not have at these kinds of parties.

-

Walking there was a little chilly but overall a nice night for the time of year. This guy must've gone to your school and hadn't left yet given the proximity of his house to your apartment and to campus.

You walk in and see Yuji Itadori right away with his friendly smile and big personality. He gives you both hugs and you know at least if Nobara doesn't get lucky with anyone else she can rely on Yuji.

Your energetic friend holds your hand as she searches the rest of the party to find her friend Megumi. He stands in the kitchen with a white haired man that you faintly think is this Gojo guy, both getting ready to shotgun a beer together. You and Nobara wait to see who wins before interrupting, grabbing drinks out of the cooler and setting down your bag with liquor and hard seltzers in it. It appears that Gojo finishes just a second before Megumi and you hear Nobara interrupting, "Gumi what was that?! You lost like a little bitch?"

He groans in response but ultimately smiles, "Why am I friends with you again?"

"Because you've been stuck with me since high school."

Watching the altercation, Gojo comes up to you and asks, "You're with them?" Nodding his head at the two immaturely arguing.

"Sadly." you respond taking a swig of your drink.

"I'm Satoru Gojo, this is my place, thanks for coming." He eyes you over top of his black round sunglasses, making you feel like you may be wearing too revealing of clothes.

"I'm y/n, thanks for the invite by proxy," You giggle as Megumi makes his way over to you.

"Y/n, good to see you," the spikey haired boy gives you an awkward side hug, and a little kiss on the top of your head. Satoru raises his eyebrows at the two of you and you roll your eyes. When Megumi and Nobara get distracted and head into another room you fill him in. "Megumi and I may have hooked up once or twice when we were drunk," You blush, revealing your secret that hardly anyone knew to this stranger.

"Mhmm, seems like more than once or twice," Gojo sips his drink and sighs dramatically, leaving the kitchen to you alone.

Just then the back door of the kitchen that leads to the back yard creaks open. You turn to see who it was out of instinct, and recognize the girl with the brown bob from the cafe earlier today. She carries on past you not even really looking at you with her cigarette still lit in her mouth.

You see Nobara in the living room from your spot on the kitchen and mouth to her that you're going outside to smoke. She nods and thumbs up, but it seems that Yuji also read your lips and is interested in joining you.

You head out to the backyard, very dimly lit despite the pretty lights Gojo tried to hang up to make it look more aesthetic. You pull out a dab pen and a cigarette and hold them up for Yuji to take his pick. His eyes light up at the weed pen and he takes a huge inhale.

"God Yuji, careful," you laugh and proceed to take a smaller hit.

Your laugh seems to attract the attention of another group standing outside, and you immediately quiet yourself.

"Do you have a light?" One of them asks although you can't make out names or voices and even if you could you don't know many people here.

"Yeah," you respond, digging out a baby pink lighter that has a "Daddy's Girl" sticker on it, a joke that one of your friends gave you. Hopefully its dark enough that they can't see it.

A blonde guy approaches you to grab it, "Thanks, we have some seats over here if you guys want." Yuji happily follows but you're a little apprehensive. However they do have a firepit going so it is a little brighter over there.

"I'm Kento, this is my boyfriend Yu," the two introduce themselves, lighting their cigs at the same time with your lighter. You take another small hit of your pen as the brunette one comments, "Nice lighter." It makes you cough on your smoke a bit but eventually turns into laughter, "Thank you," You smile grabbing it back from them.

Yuji seems to be a little high from his rather large puff earlier, and you ask, "I'm going to go check on Nobara, you need anything?" He smiles and shakes his head and starts some conversation about an underground fight club with the two guys as you walk back inside. You enter back into the kitchen, grabbing another drink and heading into the living room where you last saw Nobara. She is having a heart to heart with some girl that graduated last year that you know of named Maki. They both have been drinking and just are smiling and agreeing with everything the other says.

She suddenly turns to you when she realizes you're standing there, "Your lover, he's here." She abruptly turns back around ignoring your inquiry of who she is referring to. You see Gojo and Megumi talking in the kitchen and decide to go talk to them instead of standing there looking awkward. You couldn't see from the angle you were at, but the brunette bob cigarette girl was also standing with them chatting.

Gojo waves you over to the conversation, putting a playful arm around your shoulders. "So sweetheart," Satoru starts, slurring his words a little more than he was the last time you talked to him, "Were trying to place bets on who's going to hook up with who tonight."

"Shoko has money on Suguru and Yuki, Megumi bets on Nobara and Yuji, and me, well I have money on you and Megumi." The four of you errupt in laughter and yelling over top of each other of who is correct.

"What are we arguing about?" Another voice asks that just came into the kitchen. You turn to see who it is with Gojo's arm still loosely hanging onto you.

"Suguruuuu" Satoru coos, "Finally joined the party! Shoko here thinks you're going to hook up with Yuki tonight."

"Like hell," he mutters looking to see who his best friends choice of girl is for the evening, before his eyes land on you. You can't help but drop your jaw at the beautiful barista from the cafe standing in front of you. It looks like he just showered, wet hair which is half up half down, and you can smell the fresh body wash radiating off of him.

"Who'd you bet Satoru?" Suguru questions, still having his eyes focused on you.

"I bet little miss y/n here and her boy toy Megumi." He responds and your cheeks flush at the fact this beautiful man may think you're not interested because of Gojo's fat mouth.

"Who'd you bet on?" Shoko asks directed towards Geto.

"I'll have to get back to you on that," he turns to get a drink from the cooler before taking a step outside, you assume to smoke.

You excuse yourself from under Satoru's arm, leaving him Megumi and Shoko to talk about more random gossip. Heading to the backdoor, you try to build up some courage to introduce yourself to this Geto guy. Much to your dismay, as you are walking out of the door in your own thoughts, another person was coming through the door to go inside but was a lot more solid than you. Bouncing back onto your ass you giggle, "I'm so so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you look up to meet the amber eyes you've been thinking about for the past week. It feels like the wind has gotten knocked out of you seeing how close your faces were with him grabbing your hand to help you up.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to knock you over like that,” he slightly laughs. “I’m just grabbing a lighter,” letting go of your hand holding the door open.

“Oh I have one here!” You pull it out of your pocket kicking yourself for showing it to someone else again. Well maybe it will at least start a conversation. You hand it to him and he lights his cigarette, not making a comment and hands it back to you. You also decide to light a cigarette, trying your best to look cool doing it but because of the wind you’re having a little trouble. Suguru sticks up his hand to block the wind for you. His damn hands. It’s like as big as your face up close and you say “thanks” with the cigarette hanging out of your mouth now lit.

“Y/n? Is that your name?” He breaks the silence first.

“Yes, are you Suguru?” You ask sweetly back

“Suguru Geto, the one, the only, barista extrodinaire,” he laughs and draws a puff.

“I like your laugh.” You blurt out, now realizing your judgement is a little impaired from your weed alcohol and nicotine pairing. “Sorry that just kind of came out.”

“That’s okay,” he stares at you with kind eyes ashing his cigarette against Gojos house.

“Did you like the matcha today?” He asks after you don’t respond.

“Actually no,” you bust out laughing, “I don’t like matcha I was just distracted when she was ordering.”

“Distracted by what?” He asks.

“You,” you realize how close your faces are and how intimate the moment is with your glowing cigarettes and how intoxicating the mix of his smell is.

He nods and smirks at your response, glancing down at your lips. “I think I want to get to know you more y/n.”

You gather all the courage that you haven’t had with this man for the past few days and put it all in your lips and lean in to kiss him. He kisses back, graciously, putting his hand against the back of your head as you place your hand on his hard pec. He depends the kiss, moving his lips passionately before entering his tongue into your mouth. His free hand wraps around your waist.

Just as things are getting intense you hear Nobara squeal in the kitchen, “GOJO LOOK!” You both break the kiss laughing, but still pressed up against him.

“I think I may know who my bet is on for tonight,” he winks and gives you another kiss, making your knees weak and release a tiny whimper into his mouth. You pray he didn’t hear it, but instead he asks, “needy daddy’s girl?”

You feel your cheeks grow so warm and cover your face with your hands. “Just kidding pretty girl, your lighter was cute though.”

—

reblogs and comment for a part 2 ?? 🤭🤭

[quaranmine]

Um I don't know how to ask this but what does a firewatch au mean? Is firewatch a film or job or era? I've never seen the word firewatch before? I'm not American that might be why idk

No problem! Firewatch is a video game that I played last year and got minorly obsessed with due to its story and beautiful art, but it is also based on a job and era so you're somewhat right on all accounts. I believe the job does exist outside of the US, but I think it was a lot more widespread and well-known in the US. The actual terminology for the job is being a lookout, not a "firewatch," but that's what the game was called.

Basically, fire lookouts were employees often employed by the US Forest Service and paid to sit in towers on mountaintops all day during fire season and pay attention to where wildfires start. They are often located in remote wilderness areas or national forests, and sometimes the lookout towers could take days of hiking on foot to reach. These locations are most often in the American west, in areas like New Mexico, Colorado, California, Idaho, Wyoming, etc. Places where the landscape might be dry and prone to fire if lightning strikes or a backpacker's campfire gets out of hand. I think fire lookouts exist in most US states but they're way more concentrated in the west than in the south or east because the risk of devastating wildfire is greater there. Lookouts keep watch on the horizon to notice any smoke, use a tool to pinpoint its location, and radio it in to the Forest Service so that the fire can be contained and suppressed as soon as possible, or allowed to burn in a controlled way for the good of the ecosystem.

The job technically still exists in 2023, but a lot less of these lookouts remain and a lot of them are simply staffed by volunteers instead of as a seasonal job. The golden age of the job was in the early to mid 1900s and technology took over some of the job duties. The story takes place in 1989, however.

Anyway, it's a very interesting job? I've always been drawn to remote places where human contact is far away. I have a tendency to spend hours on Google Maps finding these places and wondering what it would look like to explore these random mountains. I also really enjoy hiking and nature. So the idea of a job where you're essentially living in one room on a mountaintop for several months completely alone in the wilderness is very interesting to me and I latched onto it immediately after playing the game. The game makes comment on this too--the type of people who take the job are they type of people who don't mind being completely cut off from society for a while, for whatever reasons they may have. In the game, your only real contact with other characters is with Delilah, purely over hand-held radio. It's a game about aloneness, in many ways.

The basic summary of my Hermitcraft Firewatch AU is that Grian and Mumbo were best friends and roommates in Colorado, until Mumbo goes missing while hiking/mountain biking alone in a national forest (Shoshone, just like the game.) Grian, convinced he's still alive, decides to take matters into his own hands to find him. He takes a job as a fire lookout in the same national forest Mumbo went missing in the year prior with the intentions of using his off days to solve the mystery of his disappearance. It's there that he meets Scar, who is the next lookout on the horizon, and their friendship develops over the course of the fic through their daily conversations over the radio. Grian begins to let him into his life and the mystery he's dead-set on solving. This fic might also have the inclusion of fanart embedded within it, since half of the game's appeal is the atmosphere it creates visually, but that just depends on if I'm satisfied with how it comes out lol

Thanks for asking!

[zepskies]

Hello, my love! 🩷

Ahaha no worries, hun!! Now you get to read Parts 2 and 3 without having to wait! 😂

I leave an hour for each stage of getting ready.

Exactly! And an extra hour for cushion! You get my math. 😂

But yes, I really wanted to call back to moments in BMD, and a red dress for Christmas seemed a perfect time to shoutout the night they met. 🥲 I'm so glad you enjoyed the description of the fit. I had a really fun time researching dresses and how to visualize it narratively!

[On Ben buying her earrings from an old-school catalogue lol]: It's my headcanon that with the kind of money this guy has, being a little rich boi, he'd like to bling his girl out. Now, our reader's not materialistic (and probably wasn't given many gifts as a kid/over the years with the hard lifestyle she led), so she really takes those gifts to heart.

THEY’RE SO CUTE OMGGG!!! Him modernising for her, and Pookie dipping her toe into the vintage era for him 🥹

Exactly my goal here! I knew you would pick that out. 😘

Benjamin, that would entail messing up the hair and makeup that took ages to perfect 🖐️

Well, ordinarily yes, but Trina's stress is gonna push our girl to the brink this time. 😅

LOL you're right, Marie treating him like a son is ironic when you remember his real age. 😂 But yeah, Louisa's being a bit salty. She has her reasons, but still. 🫠

“You’d told him about Alexa and Siri and all those techno bitches out there now, controlling people’s houses. He didn’t trust it.” — Omg this is such a funny concept to me, Ben learning about all of this shit would be hilarious 🤣 and it’s even funnier that he doesn’t trust it LMAOO!!

Isn't that just the best visual? Ben interacting with Alexa like she's a real fucking person, being confused and suspicious AF. 🤣🤣

And of course he gravitates to George. They're the closest in age! 😂 But it was so fun shading in the reader's family, especially with George, with her sense of humor/mischief coming from him.

When I see ‘Mets’ it reminds me of a club we have in Brisbane called ‘The Met’.

Oh that's so cool!!

Stan grandma for clear skin. At least Ben can’t hit on her with her being dead…

LOL wait 'til Great Aunt Sylvia meets him in Part 3. 😂

Oh it’s easy, just say that one of his dipshit employees at the time kidnapped you for no good reason, and so Soldier Boy nobly… uhh… kept you on house arrest, and eventually killed aforementioned dipshit.

LMFAO a nice and easy summation. But omfg your comments on Trina had my dying a million deaths. 🤣🤣 Some of my favorites:

Does this mean that EVERYONE can spit the truth? Because Trina I’ve gotta say, you’re a big mouthed slag who nobody likes because you give thoughts that nobody even asked for 🤙

TRINA YOU SLUTBAG THAT WAS SO OUTTA POCKET!

Trina why the fuck are you so obsessed with weight?? Who HURT you?

Believe me, you get this a lot in Latino/Hispanic households. It's obnoxious. 🙄🙄 Meanwhile, they be eating a whole tray of custard flan by themselves.

Ben’s intro to her family was less chaotic then I thought, he funnily enough just got to chill with the oldies.

Lol that's true! His turn will come more in Part 3. But while I don't have a "Trina" to this degree in my family, I have had grandmothers who made unsolicited opinions on weight and beauty, etc. 🥲

It was fun to see Ben and George interact though, I was curious to see how he might react to his granddaughter dating a man as old as he is and I love that it wasn’t even brought up.

...This is a great point, actually lmao. I could've explored that a bit more. But when I think about it, the boomer era was known for being kind of blase about age gaps. Granted, Ben's 102 and the reader is less than half his age. 🤣

But he's in this 45-ish man body, so it's almost like an Edward Cullen/Bella situation -- the age gap is so wide it doesn't even really matter anymore. What matters is the differing rates at which both of them will continue to age.

Though the reader does have to contend with Louisa's opinions on Ben's age. So there's that. 🤣

I'm so glad that you enjoyed Part 2!! I'm very excited to see what you think of Part 3. 😘😘

Love Actually - Part 2

Paring: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Summary: You and Ben steel yourselves in order to meet your crazy family for Christmas dinner.

AN: Here’s the requested Part 2! It got too long, so I had to break it up lol. There will be a Part 3 after this (final part). I also tried really hard to find an image/gif that would match this chapter better, but alas, there are only so many pictures of this scruffy guy. (And none in a real suit. 😂)

Read Part 1

Remember, this story is set in the same world as “Break Me Down,” and set before “Checkerboard.” But this can be read as a stand-alone! Hope you enjoy…

Word Count: 4,800 Tags/Warnings: Tense situations, bit of angst, lots of sexy fluff

Part 2: "Season’s Greetings"

Ben checked his watched again. 

He’d lost count of how many times, how many minutes, how long he’d been waiting for you to come down the goddamn stairs so he could get this night over with. 

You’d been getting ready for this dinner with your family for four hours. How long did it take you to slap on some makeup and throw on a dress?

Finally, he heaved a sigh and got up from the couch, adjusting the watch on his wrist. He stayed by the foot of the stairs and called up to you.

“Hey. What’s taking so damn long?” he asked. His brows were furrowed, mouth set in an aggravated frown. “I already told you. I’m not planning on being at this thing all night. So if you don’t come down here in the next ten minutes, I swear to fucking Christ—” 

Ben stopped short, as he heard your footsteps at the top of the stairs. When he looked up with expectant, pursed lips, his face subtly froze. 

“What? What’re you gonna do?” you teased. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you grasped the guardrail and carefully made your way down the stairs. These heels were no joke. 

You had a black suede clutch tucked in your other hand, but Ben was drawn to the bright red of your dress. The color alone appealed to him. It called back a memory of a musty club, rich whiskey, and the dulcet tones of your voice.

But now, this dress was shorter. It also hugged your every curve and stopped just a few inches above the knee. He noticed a tantalizing little slit in the back, at the hem, leading his eyes down your sheer pantyhose and down to the tall, black heels.

His lips formed a teasing smile. “You sure you can walk in those?” 

But you could see the truth in his eyes; he liked what he saw. They raked back up your body, taking in the short sleeves, the slight plunge of the neckline, the red lipstick as bright as your dress, the soft sweep of eyeliner and dark lashes—and you hoped he noticed the way you’d painstakingly done your hair into soft, ‘40s style waves.

“Do I look shaky to you?” you countered.

Ben tilted his head slightly as he stared up at you. “Not one bit.”

He reached out for you on the last step of the stairs. You took his hand and gave him a grateful look, but your hand didn’t stop there. It grazed up the sleeve of his suit jacket as you took him in with a smile.

Not often one to don a simple black suit, Ben went with a charcoal gray against a crisp black undershirt. No tie though, leaving the first couple of buttons casually open. 

“Look at my man, all sharp and modern and sexy as hell,” you purred. He accepted the praise with a pleased quirk of his lips. 

Normally you wouldn’t try to feed his peacock-level pride too much. He knew he was a damn fine-looking man. However, you also knew he wasn’t totally into meeting the rest of your family tonight. You knew you needed to give him a (well earned) ego boost.

“Gotta match my girl,” said Ben. Though he fingered the ends of your softly curled hair with a more genuine glint to his smile. “Though you’ve gone a bit vintage.”

“Compromise.” You grinned, and you leaned up for a soft kiss. 

He met you there, even pressing his luck when his tongue begged entrance against your lips. You held his cheek and brushed your thumb there tenderly, but you soon broke away. 

“We’ve got somewhere to be,” you reminded him. Ben sighed through his nose, though his hands molded to your waist.  

“I didn’t realize you were that kinky,” he said. His voice was deep and suggestive. Your face started to heat up, even as your brows knitted with confusion.

“What?” you asked. 

“I know you’re not gonna make me wait all night to get a taste of this,” he said. And he leaned down to begin plying you with his heavy hands and his lips along your neck. “I gotta assume you want me to fuck you in your mom’s house.”

You uttered a shocked laugh. You batted his shoulder, even though it didn’t even make him blink. His lips curved as they grazed your neck. He inhaled under your ear, making a pleasant shudder run down your spine. He hummed in approval.

“Is that the perfume I got you?” he asked. 

“Mhmm,” you nodded. “I like it a lot. Makes me feel all warm and spicy.”

Ben chuckled into your neck. He did pull back eventually to thumb around the edge of one of your earrings—the second part of his Christmas gift to you. The white stone and silver filigree shone in the light. 

“They look good,” he remarked, giving you a charming smile. “Better on you than the catalogue girl.”

Now that was an image. Soldier Boy: browsing through a magazine of women’s jewelry. You smiled brightly at him. 

“Thank you, baby,” you replied. “They really are beautiful.”

Then you glanced down to find your gift to him on his wrist: a new silver Rolex. You turned his hand over to make sure that it fit him right.

“Not too tight, right? Not too loose.” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nah, it’s good.”

“Just good? Does it still need adjusting? We can go back to the store and have them fix it—”

“It’s perfect, sweetheart. Stop fussing,” he said. Your lips pursed as you looked up at him from the watch. 

“I just want to make sure you’re happy with it, that’s all,” you said. 

“I am,” he replied. But his smile, the hidden glint of something in his eyes, made you blush. Inside, you were warm and pleased.  

“All right, let’s go then,” you said. “I’ve got the rum cake, and the actual rum ready to go in the kitchen. And the presents are lined up by the door. Can you load those up in the car for me while I get the food?”

Ben obliged you, though he soon balked at the army of presents waiting for him by the door. When did you have time to get all of these? He didn’t remember you buying all this shit. 

Though he realized, this must’ve been how you filled your time after work, while he was gone for the past two weeks on that mission. 

As he loaded the gifts into the car, Ben reluctantly remembered that it had been…strange, to be away from you. For the past few months, you two had fallen into a rhythm. Waking up to each other, busy morning routines before work, sharing your evenings afterwards. 

You had also been making it your mission to find new things to do together. Like paintballing, of all things. Or comedy shows, new movies and restaurants, concerts, club nights with your friends. Though it was weird for him, sometimes, to go to a show without all the celebrity fanfare he used to get as Soldier Boy.    

Well, he was still Soldier Boy. He just wasn’t getting paid anywhere near the same as he used to. (But let’s face it, he didn’t need the damn money. He’d earned plenty in 40 years of fame and family inheritance.) 

People still knew his name, still worshiped him at times, but it wasn’t the same. He wasn’t part of Vought’s machine anymore. No one really told him what to do, but if he wanted this life—here, in upstate New York—he was forced to make efforts to color within the lines of the law (mostly). Hell, he actually worked for a living. Even if it was for the government.  

The point was, he was part of something. And it wasn’t totally shit, even if he was surrounded by morons on a daily basis…  

By the time you opened the passenger side door to interrupt his musings, Ben remembered to actually start the car. 

“You okay?” you asked as you clicked in your seatbelt. You were keeping a close eye on him tonight, trying to gauge his shifting moods. 

Ben hesitated, but when he glanced over at you, he reached over and thumbed at your chin, under those ruby red lips. It made you smile. 

“Yeah,” he replied. Though he let out a subtle breath as he faced the road and took the wheel of the car. Ever perceptive though, you sent him an assessing look. 

“You’re not nervous, are you?” you asked. His brows furrowed slightly.

“Why would I be?” he asked, his voice a bit sharp. Defensive, you interpreted. 

Instead of answering, you leaned over and laid a hand on his thigh.

“Look, my mom already likes you. Louisa’s going to come around,” you said. Your mouth edged into a smile, of sorts. “I just need you to stop me from killing my aunt with a ladle.” 

Ben snorted in response. “All right.”

When the two of you arrived at your mother’s house, she opened the door to her home and greeted your boyfriend like a long-lost son. 

“Oh, Ben! Come in, please,” she beckoned, grabbing his arm and guiding him inside. “You look so handsome, my goodness!” 

Ben couldn’t help offering a smile. It was infused with his usual charm. 

“Marie,” he greeted with a nod. You shook your head, despite your own smile. Ben liked attention—along with a bit of praise and fanfare went without saying. And you knew your mom wouldn’t be the only one to play into that tonight. 

“Hi, Mom,” you said pointedly, with a hand on your hip. Marie turned to you with a bright smile. 

“Oh! Honey, there you are. Merry Christmas!” She brought you in and hugged you tight. She then fairly gushed as she took in your dress and touched your hair. “Oh, you look so beautiful. I wish you’d come earlier though. I need you to help me and Trina. Come on.”

Marie glanced up at Ben again. “Oh, you too, hun! We can introduce you to everyone.”

Ben nodded. He followed your lead behind your mother, and you inwardly steeled yourself on the way to the kitchen. The familiar smells awaiting you brought you back to the better parts of your childhood. Ones that were filled with music, laughs, and good food.    

And if there was one redeeming quality about your Aunt Trina, it was that she could cook her ass off. Since your mom had always been more of the “boxed meal” variety cook, Trina always took over at Thanksgiving and Christmas, and just about every other family gathering. 

She was putting the ham in the oven while your sister sat at the kitchen table with your Grandpa George, peeling potatoes. The bigger table in the dining room was currently set up with appetizers and wine. 

But the sounds of chatter and pots and pans and cabinets closing—it all stopped when you and Ben entered the kitchen. You felt his hand at the small of your back, and whether he meant it to or not, that familiar touch stabilized you. 

Even Trina stopped giving Louisa directions on how to correctly peel and cut the potatoes for boiling. Her mouth opened when she took in the sight of Ben, from head to toe. 

“Good evening,” he said, if only to break the silence. 

But you knew the rest was up to you. You curled a hand around his solid arm and gave him a smile, before looking to your family. 

“Hey, guys. Merry Christmas!” you greeted. “This is my boyfriend, Ben.”

Trina squealed in excitement. She came over (with a wooden spoon in hand) to give you an enthusiastic hug and kiss. She held your arms and looked between you and Ben. 

“Your mom said you were dating a superhero, but I had no idea…” she twittered. “I mean…it’s Soldier Boy. He’s in my kitchen!” 

“It’s Mom’s kitchen, actually,” you muttered. Trina’s excitement dimmed slightly as she rolled her eyes at you.

“Ever the smart mouth,” she said, playfully whacking you in the ass with her spoon. 

Ben smirked. He certainly agreed with your aunt’s assessment. He turned to her to offer something in greeting, but before he could, Louisa’s voice cut in from across the room. 

“What should we call you? Ben, or Soldier Boy?” she asked dryly. 

You frowned, gave your sister a look. Meanwhile, Ben didn’t quite make it to a smile, but he was civil when he answered her. 

“Ben’s fine.”

You remained in the kitchen to help out, while Ben migrated to the living room with your grandfather. Ben grabbed a large glass of wine on his way there, along with a few mini quiche to tide him over until dinner. 

He then noticed an old woman sleeping on the leather recliner. 

“Who’s that?” he asked George. 

“Oh, that’s Great Aunt Sylvia,” George said. “She just took an oxy for her hip. She’ll be passed out ‘til dinner.”  

Ben blinked at the casual mention of oxycodone, but he wouldn’t mind a few of what Sylvia was having. Oxy gave him such a nice buzz. 

But instead, he and George sat on opposite ends of the couch while Sylvia snored away. 

For a moment, it was quiet, save for the soft crooning of Nat King Cole playing (and Sylvia). The music came from a small round speaker on the coffee table, Ben noticed. You’d told him about Alexa and Siri and all those techno bitches out there now, controlling people’s houses. He didn’t trust it. 

“You like baseball?” George asked as he turned on the TV. Ben nodded, and the other man put on a game. Mets versus the Cubs, three to one. The men were silent for a while as they watched the game. 

Unfortunately for Ben, that peace couldn’t last. 

“So,” George started. “You’re a supe, huh?”

Ben inclined his head, sipping at his wine. This was what he fucking hated. Small talk. 

“I remember you,” George said. “My wife and I liked that movie you made…King of Kings. With Charlton Heston. What a classic that guy was.”

Ben smiled. “He was a good time. Drank like a fucking fish.”

George raised a brow. “Did he? Well, we all need a glass every now and then.”

Ben nodded, taking a pointed sip of his wine. 

“Heston. One of the few celebrities I gave a shit about when he died,” George said with a shake of his head. “Wasn’t long before my wife’s passing.”

You’d told Ben a lot about your grandmother. When your parents got divorced, she’d insisted that you, your mom, and your sister live with her and George. She didn’t want to take any chances with your dad, who’d been more than unstable at the time in his drinking. 

Ben didn’t often pray. But he drank then with a silent toast, that good ole’ Jon was getting hot coals up the ass right about now. In hell.

Ben then considered your grandfather’s musings, realizing he hadn’t thought about his old pal Heston in a long time.  

“How’d he die?” Ben asked. George glanced over at him.

“Well, official case was pneumonia. But it wasn’t all that clear,” he said. “However, I think he had a flare up.”

“Of what?” Ben asked.

George gave him a wry look. “The fate that all men fear. Ass cancer.”

Ben raised a brow, his mouth twitching. He had a feeling he knew where your sense of humor came from. 

“You probably don’t have to worry about that,” George waved a dismissive hand. “You’re still young. Well, sort of…I mean, being superhuman and all that. I’m sure that comes in handy with the normal stuff, like the sniffles and whatnot…and hey! At least you won’t have to worry about your asshole fallin’ out.”

Ben actually smiled. Now he knew you were related to this man. 

In the kitchen, you were trying and failing to dodge a game of “Twenty Questions” with your aunt, while you and your sister finished cutting potatoes. All of the questions were predictably centered around Ben. Luckily, you had a plate of mini quiche, cheese, and salami between you and Louisa to keep you pacified. 

“Well, you’ve done well for yourself, I’ll give you that,” Trina said. “But why on God’s green Earth didn’t you tell us you were dating Soldier Boy? How the hell did you even meet him?”

Shit. There was more than one reason you hadn’t told the rest of your family yet, and this was partly it. How the hell were you supposed to explain this? 

Louisa shot you a knowing look, along with a raised brow. 

“Well, I was actually assigned to find him after he…went missing last year,” you said, keeping things purposefully vague. “We met and…things just kind of took off from there.”

Your mom and your sister didn’t even know all the details, but they knew this much. After Soldier Boy used his nuclear power to end Homelander, he’d escaped in the aftermath. 

You’d been working a year in Surveillance at Supe Affairs, but you’d been a private investigator by trade, previously working at your father’s firm. You’d even worked at Vought for a few years, before joining the S.A. 

You were then recruited by Grace Mallory to track down Soldier Boy, along with Butcher and his team. 

…And that’s where things got complicated. 

“But isn’t Soldier Boy the one who killed Homelander?” Trina asked. She stopped in her stirring of the cranberry sauce to look back at you. And you met her stare directly. 

“Yes. He was partnered with the CIA on that.” Sort of. You added, “Homelander wasn’t the hero you all thought you knew, remember? He was a raging psychopath.”

Trina huffed at that. 

“So was your father. And you still worked with him for years,” she remarked, even off-handedly as she went back to stirring.

Your entire body stilled. Inside, your temper was a lit fuse, preparing to ignite. You stuffed a mini quiche into your mouth to stop you from exploding. 

And your mom and your sister recognized the danger. Louisa frowned tightly and touched your arm. 

She had been too young to form a true relationship with your father by the time your parents were divorced, and your grandparents (and later you) hadn’t allowed Jon to interfere too much with Louisa's life. So Jon’s death, a mere seven months ago, hadn’t truly affected her as deeply as it had you. 

And that in itself was complicated. 

Marie paused in preparing the sweet potato casserole to give her sister a warning look. 

“Trina, that’s not fair,” said Marie. 

Your aunt shrugged. “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

Slowly, you stood. You grabbed a hand towel and brushed the velvety remains of potato skin from your hands. You also took the plate of cheese cubes and salami with you. 

“Honey, she just means—” 

“I know what she meant, Mom,” you said. Your mother wasn’t confrontational. She would never tell her sister to shut the fuck up when she was being out of pocket. 

But you had no problem doing so. You walked over to Trina, who saw the look in your eye and actually relented, realizing that there was, in fact, a line, and she had crossed it. 

“Look, I’d like us to continue having a nice evening,” you told her. “Mention my father again, and it won’t be.” 

After a moment, Trina nodded. 

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that. Don’t mind me,” she said. But then, she smiled. “I’m really happy for you, sweetheart. You’ve got a superhero! Who knew you’d pull that one off, huh?”

Your flat smile remained. “Oh, yeah? How do you mean?” 

Trina faltered. Apparently, she hadn’t expected that. 

“Oh. Well, you know…”

“No. I really don’t. Can you clarify for me?” you asked, using the same even tone you employed with testy co-workers on the Surveillance team. 

Trina sighed. “Oh, honey. You’re a beautiful girl, but…”

“What?” you challenged. “Just say it.”

Behind Trina’s coil of dark hair piled on her head, Marie looked worried. Louisa was also on tenterhooks, gripping the kitchen table. She slowly got to her feet though, in case she needed to intervene. 

“Well, I wasn’t gonna say anything,” Trina said. She gestured to you, after grabbing a cheese cube off your plate. “But your hips, hun. I mean, I enjoy a snack. A bon bon. A chocolate eclair. The occasional croissant, but the weight don’t come off easier as you get older, does it?” 

You were officially burning like a tea kettle.  

“And with a man like that…” Trina fanned herself with the discarded, empty bag of cranberries. “Mother of God. He’s gotta be beating ‘em off with a fucking stick.” 

Your mom pursed her lips at the salty language, giving Trina a sharp glance (for multiple reasons). 

Trina noticed, but she only popped another piece of salami into her mouth. “Sorry, hun.” 

But then she turned back to you. 

“And have you talked about kids yet? That’ll be some serious weight gain.” 

You let out a sharp breath and raised your gaze heavenward, pleading for mercy. 

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered.  

“I’m just sayin’!” she said. “He might have forever, but you certainly don’t.” 

Now that one struck a nerve. Perhaps not the one she intended, but it cut deeply into you all the same. You and Ben had agreed to pin that conversation for now, but the fact was, he would continue to age much slower than you. 

At your steely glare, Trina again raised her hands. This time in placating defense. “I’m trying to help you, is all I’m saying.” 

You gripped the edge of the kitchen counter so tight you thought a manicured nail might break off. You’d reached the end of your tether. 

“I’ve been here for all of five minutes—” 

“Okay, you know what?” Louisa finally stepped in and grabbed your arm. “I need your help. Let’s find the red tablecloth so we can set the table.”

She led you out of the kitchen and into the hall, but you stopped short so fast that you skidded a bit in your heels. You took deep breaths and braced a hand against the wall.  

You turned to your sister. “Why doesn’t she attack you like that?” 

“Oh, believe me,” Louisa said, rolling her eyes. “I had my turn before you got here. I’ve been locked in with these clucking hens all morning.” 

A grin twitched at the corner of your lips. 

“My condolences,” you said. But then, you look at your sister a bit harder. “And you. What’s your problem, huh? How long are you going to give Ben a hard time?” 

It took her a moment, but Louisa eventually sighed. 

“I mean, Aunt Trina’s an asshole, but she kind of said it. He’s literally a century-years-old,” she said. “How do you not have a problem with that?” 

You crossed your arms, though you knew you didn’t have a good answer for that one. 

“Age is…relative.” You struggled against a wince. 

“He lived through the damn Dust Bowl,” Louisa deadpanned. “He’s fucking ancient.” 

You glared back at her. “Okay, enough. What’s your real problem, huh? I mean really.”

Louisa let out another sigh. Her hands went to her hips. You hadn’t had a chance to tell her, but she looked pretty tonight too in her black dress. It flared at the waist and reached her knees, and she’d paired it with some chunky red heels. She was a little taller than you normally, but not by much. As the older sister, you enjoyed finally being taller than her for once in your higher heels. 

Still, you were annoyed with her right now. You sensed she had something deeper against Ben, and it wasn’t all about his age. When she eventually answered, it just confirmed your suspicions. 

“He’s dangerous,” she said at last. “He’s so fucking dangerous.” 

That disheartened you. Your lips pressed, and you held onto your own arms a bit tighter. 

“Not to me,” you replied. Louisa’s frown deepened as her brows knitted together.

“Especially to you,” she said. “He kidnapped you.” 

You gave a wan smile. “Not technically.” 

That had been one of his subordinates, who’d taken you outside of Ben’s orders…

It was a long and complicated story, but basically, it had worked out for both of you in the end. 

Louisa gave you a more incredulous look. “He’s got an atomic bomb in his chest.” 

“He’s working on controlling it,” you insisted. “He’s gotten a lot better!” 

Louisa threw her hands upward in exasperation and turned to leave you in the hall. You stopped her with a hand on her arm. 

“Look, I get it,” you said, meeting her gaze directly. “You’re worried about me. But here’s the thing…you don’t have to do that. I’m the one who looks out for you, remember?” 

Once again, she frowned at you. “Why, just because you’re older?” 

You gave her a teasing smile. 

“Well, yeah.” Still, you grasped both of her arms, now crossed in front of her chest. “Lou, haven’t I always taken care of you?” 

“Okay, yeah,” she said. “But who takes care of you? Who makes sure you’re all right?” 

You gave her a patient, if knowing look. 

She grimaced. “Oh, don’t you say it.” 

“Honestly, Lou. He does take care of me…he makes me feel safe.” You bit your lip, and your eyes began to well up with the sting of tears, emotion rising in your throat. “I’ve never had that. Ever.” 

Your sister released a heavy sigh. “I know.” 

“Then can you actually try to get to know him? Please?” You rubbed her arms, pleading with your eyes. You wanted your family to like your boyfriend, but it was so much more than that. You didn’t want to have separate worlds. Everyone in this house was part of your family, and that now included Ben.

The longer she looked into your imploring eyes, Louisa’s grimace lightened, just a touch. “I’ll think about it.” 

You smiled then, warmly as you hugged your sister. You then kissed her on the cheek, leaving the bright red imprint of your lipstick.

When you went back into the kitchen, your better mood was ruined pretty quickly by watching your aunt run your mother around the kitchen with demands and instructions. You decided to jump into the fray, taking a large serving bowl out of Marie’s hands before it tipped over.

“How’s the ham doing?” you asked. 

“About half an hour or so, I think,” Trina said. “Maybe forty-five.”

“Okay, and what’s left?”

“Let’s get the desserts ready.”

While your help sorely relieved your mother, it was actually a terrible idea for your mental health. When you could take no more of Trina’s irritating, commanding voice in your ear, you had to take a breath (as well as down a full glass of wine). 

You wordlessly asked Louisa to tag in for you before you traveled into the living room. 

There you found Ben immersed in a baseball game with Grandpa George. Both men only looked up at you when you stood near the couch with crossed arms. Your nerves were on edge, your blood still just short of boiling, but you took pains to look pleasant.

“Who’s winning?” you asked.

Ben quirked a smile at the sight of you, while George gave his more freely.

“5 to 3. It’s close on the Mets,” he said. You realized then that you hadn’t even hugged your grandfather yet. 

“Oh my God, Grandpa! I’m so sorry,” you said with a frown. You went over to hug him. “Trina has me all out of whack.”

George chuckled and patted you warmly on the back. “Why do you think I’m out here?”

You sighed with a wry smile. You then turned to Great Aunt Sylvia, who was still passed out in the recliner. 

“Aunt Sylvia?” you tried. You went over to her and touched her arm. 

“Leave her be, hun,” George told you. “Only the smell of food’ll rouse that woman.” 

Your smile deepened. Then you turned to Ben, who’d been watching you with reserved interest. He’d never seen you with the rest of your family before.

You went to him on his side of the couch and asked, in a tone deceptively light, “How about a tour of the house? You haven’t even seen it all.”

He could admit, it was a fairly big house for just your mother, but he was more interested in the game. 

“I’m watching this,” he said, gesturing at the screen. However, when he saw the tight press of your lips, he knew something wasn’t right with you. You were trying to tell him something with your eyes, he just didn’t know what.

You leaned down, subtly grabbing his thigh.

“I need you,” you whispered in his ear. “Now.” 

The tone of your voice set his blood alight with new interest.

Ben’s resulting smirk was subtle, but edged. 

“A tour it is.” 

AN: Just when you thought you'd seen the last of my BMD cliffhangers. 😏

How'd you like Ben's introduction to his girlfriend's family? I also sincerely hope you don't have an "Aunt Trina" in your life. 🙄

Next Time:

He grabbed your arms and meant to kiss you, but you stopped him with your fingers against his lips. 

“Two rules: this lipstick doesn’t come off. And no. Ripping. The dress.”

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[tenrose]

I've been thinking all day about that "discussion" we had during meal time at work today that made me lose my mind. But mostly how fucking useless I was because of dumb I am. Basically there is a call for a strike from our Union for better salaries which I would have expected everyone find great considering we have to work 40h+ to be able to reach like 1,5k€ (with a productivity bonus in it) so basically, we have a decent salary because we are overworked and when l mean decent, I mean decent for me because I have the luxury to have no car so I don't pay as much shit as other (while it's nothing for colleagues who come to work with cars and have children etc.) and still it only allow me to rent for a one room 30m2 appartement so you know... Not what I'd expect to have once I'd have a full time job (also considering the fact that here a full time job is supposed to be 35h not over 40h). So you know I'm super ready to support strike movement considering the fucking shit capitalist pigs have put our country (lol the entire WORLD) those last two years.

And then there's this fucking guy (I normally don't hate him but that's radically changed them) who trash talked the Union for the whole fucking meal (I put down the knife in my hand), basically saying they demand too much, and people are lazy and they don't want to work and going etc. And I swear to you my blood is still fucking boiling. And he said yeah but countries who have workplaces with 4 days a weeks have it because they are protected military by America or some shit (he said that cause I used Norway as an exemple of great social country), become a shareholder or invest money (why is it always the fucking cis millennials guys coming with that invest money bullshit) and basically life is not fucking vacations and etc. Etc. I mean the only argument I came up with the fact that every single right we gained was through strikes. Literally France has labour laws protecting the employees because our parents and grandparents went on strike for us. And basically every right we have, every rights women have, every right the queer community have is because people went on strike and fought for us. Like I know our elders did a lot shit, not downplaying this in any way but they also granted us great things. Great things we are losing right now. But people have this fucking mentality of working more to make more money. And God forbid if the neighbor who work less hours make the same amount. Like why do you care so fucking much? And also this individualistic way of thinking, like ask a may raise for yourself. And why do you care about inflation on the gas price if you don't have a car? Hello because I don't think it's fair for anyone to have half their salary going on the transportation they are forced to use to go to work. And because union make us stronger. Together we are fucking stronger. I don't fucking care if "union wants a strike because it benefits them" it will benefit me and since I have a permanent contract I can't be fired because of strike. Because believe it or not Union Strike are protected under Labour law. And if you don't want to go on strike, good for you. But trash talking workers Union? That's fucking low. I mean I'm guilty of always complaining about the SNCF strike but when you think about it most people are angry because they have better privileges than us because.... Strikes. And even I, some stuff the Union has down really annoy me (like the fact that most of us are peacefully remotely working) but I know they do stuff that benefit all us. And you know what? Fight for everyone including the one who don't want to associate with Unions, but the ones who actively trash talk about Union strikes shouldn't receive any benefit acquired by them. There I said it.

And I don't know his personal life that much, but he's a straight cis white man around my age. And I can tell he's never have one financial struggle in his life. I just know. If you've been poor you know. I mean sadly there's a lot of people with low income sharing this kind of stupidity but the way he talks about it I just know. It sounds irrational I know but I know this gut feeling too well. I was absolutely certain the moment he said "people are not starving", I knew he has used the power of depression to wake up at 3pm skipping meals and saving food and money. I know he never has seen his parents lashing out on him because you secretly ate the cereals unknowingly they had to sacrifice something for themselves. And while I know he's not rich, I know that with the money I earn now I don't really struggle anymore. It's easy for me. He doesn't now at least, he's having a child soon. But idk what's his gf is doing because he doesn't seem worried. I mean our coworker with a kid was telling him how she don't do a lot of stuff for herself anymore, how she has to sacrifice thing to give the best for herself. But he finds it normal? It's really weird. I mean while being not rich he probably know he has his parents backing up a minimum. I don't. Not cause they hate me. But because since I've started to work I'm basically the richest kid (tell you a lot with a minimum wage with 8 extra hours every week) and I'm their backup. They never have been able to be my security for rent.

I mean I always felt this guy being too close to the boss anyway... The only ones "close" to him are the women from HR secretary etc. They are probably just close to back their own asses... Which fair I guess. For the record he had a permanent contract super easily (I know he had one interview with the big boss, no of us had and we all signed last minute and because they were forced by law to have more permanent contracts than precarious ones) and also at some point he said to just ask for a pay raise. And if it isn't the typical straight male who never have to fight for something while struggling with impostor syndrome like broke people/women/poc had, saying idk what it is. I mean he's educated and that's why he sounded confident while talking (I mean I am somehow the owner of a uni diploma and I still don't feel legitimate in anything). And not that it's bad to be educated, on the opposite, but most people here haven't had the luck to have long studies or they have something useless like a literature diploma (silly me). And generally there's something about talking calmly about social and financial injustices that put a giant red flag above the head of the person. Ik now, I'm being overly sensitive here. But I don't understand people who don't?

But anyway the thing that annoyed me the most was myself. Because, of this fucking social anxiety I wasn't able to stand my ground. I'm the most nervous person on earth, I was visibly shaking with anxiety because I don't know to debate but also with proper anger. I am always fucking shaking when in intense debates, things that matter to me (even in the positive side like talking about stuff I like). And now I'm thinking about all the fucking counter arguments because I have all of them. But I just looked dumb like it just makes it easier for him to feel right and for me to feel wrong. And God I'm crying right now, I know stupid. I mean if it was a written dissertation I would have beaten his ass easy. I know it cause I always good at dissertation and showing I am someone's with critical thinking deep inside with my writing (and I would have been better if I didn't spend my whole academic cursus writing shit the last minute). You know I should remind myself that I was good at written essays. I should remind myself that I'm not bad at everything. But the thing is, life is not written. And not being able to properly convey your thoughts verbally is a dead sentence for basically everything. Without social anxiety I wouldn't be stuck here, in a mindless job, I wouldn't be stuck listening to right wing bullshit. I mean I would, but I would be striking back. I'm just looking stupid, worrying about stuff I can't change. I can't stand for myself. I can't stand for other people as well. Because I have a fucking dead brain.

[1hithero]

i'm finally doing it!!! i'm finally explaining my modern au!! to the best of my ability!!

i made a small comic a few weeks ago(?) that takes place in it, but i feel like itd make more sense if i explained the full thing! basically it puts the main storyline of the game in a modern setting with a heavier focus on the nyakuza!! full explanation (basically just.. the main three kids it focuses on bc im tired) is under the cut:

the summarized explanation from my docs page is:

"the time pieces are, quite literally, a rare collectors item for nerds! abt half a year after hattie moved to town, a family-run jewlery organization steals them and ships them out as necklaces to random places nearby. they're known as "the nyakuza" for their often violent workers theorized inside jobs, and cat-themed uniforms. the time pieces are very important to hattie, so they go on a mission to get them all back."

in this au, april, often known as "hat kid" or "hattie" because of her consistent use of hats, is 15, nonbinary (they/she), and is new to town! they often spend her time exploring the area. there's not a lot to do at home, so y'know...

bea, nicknamed "bowie" by april, is their best friend/sister figure! she's also 15, and is a demigirl (she/cat)!! cat's the adopted daughter of "cooking cat" (who i haven't given a name yet 🙁) and is "meowjima's" cousin! also she likes rythm games because i need at least Someone to project that onto lmao...

mu is a 16 yr old gnc transfem (she/her) who doesn't really have the greatest life right now, but she's working through it! ill touch on her issues with people around her age later, but the main way she ties into the plot is her part-time job. the "mafia boss" still sucks btw, he overworks his employees to hell among other things. ill explain how down w the mafia goes at a later date, but dw there's no betrayal!! the time pieces don't have powers so there's no reason for that lol..

im currently looking for a name for the au itself, so if anyone has suggestions...drop em in my asks !! i don't bite dw... but yea that's all i have for the main three kids! timmy is coming at a later date as soon as i learn more abt him :]