#I'm so sorry for butchering this I really am

[karlachismylife]

Writing Russian-speaking characters

So I have once again been chuckling at some adorable clumsy Russian in Nikolai and Nikto fics, and thus I decided to make a little list that might be helpful for fellow COD writers here. And yes, please, feel free to reach out to me if you need any proofreading of your Russian phrases, I would be glad to assist since google translator can butcher it in ways non-speakers won't be able to notice.

I would really appreciate if you guys shared this post and helped it reach people that might need it, I put way more effort into it than I expected myself <3 Also, I might make a followup with some more words and/or phrases that can be useful, so please feel free to request some, since here I am mostly focusing on terms of endearment.

I will write down Russian words, their (approximate and wonky, sorry for that) transcription/transliteration and what part of speech they are (keep in mind that adjectives can be used as nouns when used to address someone) and provide according translation and use.

Keep in mind that in Russian the gender of the word is important!!! I'll write down them in following order: he/him (он/его) version/ she/her (она/её) version/ they/them (они/их) version. However! They/them is NOT traditionally used as gender-neutral pronouns, it's plural only. Some queer and younger folks do use they/them (myself included), but it does sound wonky as it's direct copy from English. Unfortunately, Russian is not very suitable for gender-neutral writing, but there are ways to go about it (I'll try to note some of that too).

*however, since Nikto is sometimes using plural they/them to describe himself, that would be okay with him since it's plural. I hope that makes sense, lol.

So if you're putting an adjective with a noun (example: милый котик) you have to use an adjective in the correct gender form FOR THE WORD! If the noun (котик here) is masculine, you use masculine adjective form EVEN if you're referring to a person with she/her pronouns.

What is love?

The main thing I noticed is that y'all use a direct translation of the word "love" - "любовь" [l'ubov'] (n) to refer to a person. As in "how are you doing, love?". However, that's wrong. "Любовь" is either a word to describe the feeling, or a name (short version would be Люба [Lyuba]). If you wanna use an affectionate pet name, consider one of the following!

дорогой/дорогая/дорогие [dorogoy/dorogaya/dorogiye] (adj) - means "darling". Often used between spouses. Mostly used to refer to person directly, sounds a little quirky if you use it to refer to them in third person (as in "my darling went out to buy some strawberries").

любимый/любимая/любимые [l'ubimiy/l'ubimaya/l'ubimiye] (adj) - means "beloved/loved/loved one" and is probably the closest to "love". You can use it to refer to person directly or to talk about them in third person (as in "can't wait to see любимую". Also yes, the endings are changing depending on the case and I'm not entirely sure how to explain this concisely without going deep into grammar lol).

милый/милая/милые [miliy/milaya/miliye] (adj) - the word means "cute/cutie", but is also used as a general terms of endearment, like "sweetheart". Mainly to refer to someone directly, using it in third person is a little old-fashioned I'd say. Also commonly used by people outside romantic partnership, a kind old lady can definitely call you over with this one asking to help her read expiration date on a milk bottle or something.

любовь моя [l'ubov' moya] (n + adj/pronoun) - okay, I kinda tricked you saying you can't use the word "love" to refer to a person. If you say this (means "my love"), you can! It's pretty romantic and I am actually the one person that uses this daily, otherwise it's either very romance-novel/old-fashioned sounding, but there are moments when it's perfectly suitable. Have that fairytale moment! Also please note, that while "моя любовь" [moya l'ubov'] (adj/pronoun + n) is grammatically correct, it sounds kinda weird if you use it to address the person directly (like in a phrase "my love, you shine brighter than the stars"). While Russian doesn't have particularly strict rules about word order, it does matter to some extent, and this is a prime example: people just use one order way more often that the other.

Pocket-sized

I've already told somewhere here my favourite Nikto fic moment: the sweetest, romantic moment, interrupted by him calling reader "детёныш", which means "cub" as in baby animal. And while my parents do use this word affectionately, I can assure you, most people don't, and it was clear that this was a result of a clumsy translation of "baby" or something like that. So here are some variants for words like baby, little one and such!

малыш/малышка [malysh/malyshka] (n) - I'd say this feels more "little one" than "baby" to me, it's a tad less sexually charged if you get what I mean. Also, you call "малыш" a person of any gender/pronouns, while "малышка" is strictly for she/her. Obviously can be used for kids too.

детка [d'etka] (n) - this one is definitely "baby" or "babe" as a term of endearment, calling a real kid this would be WEIRD if you're not a really old granny. I would also say that it's more commonly used to refer to female partners, but that might be just my perception and experience. It's still okay to use both ways. Also this word can be very much used if you need a little bit of sleazy/catcalling/bad pickup line energy, like someone shouting after a girl passing by on the street. Yuck.

маленький/маленькая [mal'en'kiy/mal'en'kaya] (adj) - this just means "little" or "small", I'd say it's used less commonly and usually in this form "маленький мой/маленькая моя" [mal'en'kiy moy/mal'en'kaya moya] (adj + adj/pronoun). I will expand on this a little later here! Can be used to refer to kids too.

All kinds of fauna

While poor детёныш is reserved for furry freaks like yours truly, there are some animal nicknames that are very widely spread! Here are some that I think would be most useful for y'all. Granted, some people think that these are a lil' bit cringey, but I think it really just depends on what you're used to hear around you. So if I think calling someone a cub is cute, and bunny is cringe, that probably says more about me :D

котик [kot'ik] (n) - this is a term of endearment for a cat. NOT same as kitten, mind you! Mostly used to refer to men (since the word is of masculine gender) - in my experience.

котёнок [kot'onok] (second o here is like ö in German) (n) - now THIS is "kitten". I would say this is more gender-neutral than the previous one, but the word is still masculine gender.

зайка [zayka] (n) - I believe this would be an equivalent to "bunny", although it's actually a cute word for a hare, not a rabbit. Definitely used for all genders (also the word can be both masculine and feminine gender), also is okay to use referring to kids (even teachers that are into endearing nicknames can call pupils this and it's not weird. well, in elementary school). You can also say "зайчонок" [zaych'onok] (n) which is a word for baby hare, even cuter.

рыбка [ribka] (n) - a term of endearment for a fish. I think it's viewed as a bit old-fashioned and thus only used jokingly nowadays, but you know what? Nikolai could pull this off 100%. Bonus points if it's "рыбка моя" [ribka moya] (n + adj/pronoun). Only used for women and the word itself is of feminine gender.

медвежонок [medv'ezhonok] (n) - now, I actually have never met someone who would call their partner this, but I myself would (and I definitely saw it in some media, but that's obv not too reliable). It's a word for a bear cub, so I think it's cute to call a huge ass bear of a military man this word. It's of masculine gender, but I would say it's okay to call a she/her person this too. ALTHOUGH there is a grammatically incorrect (but this only adds to cuteness as it often happens) word "медвежонка" [medv'ezhonka] (n) - this would be a female bear cub. My family uses this word, I use it, no, it won't be in a dictionary, but everyone will understand what you mean. Is okay to use for kids too.

щенок [sh'enok] (if it helps, щ is like German "schtsch", like in Borschtsch, like sh but soft) (n) - now, this actually is not used as a term of endearment, it's "puppy" and it's suitable for degradation. The word is of masculine gender, but you can call anyone this to be honest. You can tell Nikto he's "глупый щенок" [glupiy sh'enok] (adj + n) (silly puppy) and that man will either bark for you or gut you. If you say "тупой" [tupoy] (adj) (dumb) instead of "глупый" [glupiy] (adj) (silly), it will be downright offensive. You can say "щеночек" [sh'enochek] (n), which is an endearing term for a puppy, so it's a little bit sweete. OR you can use my personal favourite - "щен" [sh'en] (n), which is actually also incorrect, but if you've ever heard of a great poet and poetry innovator Mayakovskiy, he was called this word by Lilya Brik. I do NOT have the time to unpack that wild relationship (there was a throuple involved. Russian poetry scene of early XX century was WILD and it's my favourite poetry period hands down), but it's pretty famous. The word "щен" consists of the word "puppy" but with the end diminutive suffix cut off. The trick is, that while some words return to their non-diminutive form with such procedure, this one does not - so you're basically inventing a new word that now sounds quite degrading and harsh, but also sexy as hell (personal opinion). I would definitely call Nikto this word.

птичка [ptich'ka] (n) - that's just "birdie", but I actually wouldn't say many people use it to refer to each other. HOWEVER, Nikolai 100% calls his steel bird this. The word is of feminine gender and if you are calling a person this, it's probably more suitable for a woman.

цыпа [tsipa??] (n) or even цыпочка [tsipoch'ka] (n) - that's a chick, like a baby hen, used only to refer to women (feminine gender word). Honestly I only heard this in foreign films dubbed in Russian or like in jokes/sarcastic phrases. It's kinda rude/indecent/vulgar and the only man that can say that and stay attractive is Captain Jack Sparrow (he used this word in Russian dubbed Pirates like once maybe, talking to Elisabeth, and that was funny cuz he be crazy like that). But maybe you want this, idk.

And everything sweet

Unfortunately, I haven't seen anyone translate the word "honey" as "мёд" directly, that would be another brilliant laugh (cuz it's wrong to refer to a person like that), but there are some "sweet" words to use!

сладкий/сладкая [sladk'iy/sladkaya] (adj) - this just means "sweet", like the taste, and it can be sexy or sleazy or just cute. You can call a kid this word too, BUT for a child would be better сладенький/сладенькая [slad'en'kiy/slad'en'kaya], which is like one step further into diminutive-endearing department.

конфетка [konf'etka] (n) - this is a diminutive word for a candy, a sweet, like a caramel or chocolate or whatever. Not very common, but is cute. Also a way to describe a sexy/good-looking person (more likely a woman, the word is of feminine gender) or just something really good (a bit jokingly). The latter is usually used in a phrase build like "не ..., а просто конфетка", which is roughly translated "that's not ... that's just plain candy". Might have an actual English equivalent that I can't think of right now. Maybe "a total snack"? Probably that one, yeah. Can be said about anything, a car for example.

Shiny

I wanna stick in a few more words of endearment and they all are kinda shiny, lol, so here you go!

солнце [solntse] (n) - this means "sun", like that big glowing thingy in the sky, but it's very welcome as a term of endearment. This word is NEUTER gender (explained in the next section). Viktor Tsoy (a famous rock musician with an unfortunate fate and immortal cultural heritage) had a song ("Cuckoo" - "Кукушка") with the words "солнце моё, взгляни на меня" [solntse moyo, vzgl'yan'i na m'en'ya] (my sun, look at me), so "солнце моё" (n + adj/n) is a good one. You can also use "солнышко" [solnyshko] (n) which is an endearing version of "sun", so it's like "sunshine". Also of neuter gender! Can and should be used to address kids too.

золотце [zolottse] (n) - this literally means like... a little gold? A little golden piece? I don't think there's a proper equivalent in English. It's a word of neuter gender and it's very much used for kids too. Another version would be "золотой мой/золотая моя/золотые мои" [zolotoy moy/zolotaya moya/zolotiye moyi] (adj + adj/pronoun) - this is "my golden", it's a little less common and I feel like it's often used to be condescending, but it's not inherenrly bad, so you can use it for a loved one.

сокровище [sokrov'ish'e] (once again it's щ, look previously) (n) - this is a word of neuter gender and it means "treasure". I personally adore this one and it's pretty common. Can be used for any gender and for kids!

звёздочка [zv'yozdoch'ka] (n) - this is like a little star/starshine. Wouldn't say it's that common, but I use it a lot. The word itself is of feminine gender, but you can call anyone that! Or you can say "звезда моя" [zv'ezda moya] (n + adj/pronoun), which means "my star". Also feminine gender word, but can be used for anyone.

This dog belongs to...

I am not going to go too deep into sexy/sex-related words in this part, because I'll just get overwhelmed with the amount, but I want to go over some words of ownership quickly.

мой/моя/мои/моё [moy/moya/moyi/moyo] (adj/pronoun) - this means my/mine. It goes really well with many words in this list, especially the adjectives, like "мой дорогой" [moy dorogoy] (my darling) or "солнышко моё" [solnyshko moyo] (my sun/sunshine). The last version, "моё" [moyo] is neuter gender, it's NOT gender-neutral! It's the "it/its" I guess (not exactly, but let's just stick with this simplyfied explanation). Previously there were some words of that gender, so here you go. BTW I would say that in speech it's more common to put this word before adjectives and after nouns (like in my examples), just sounds better, but it's not wrong to do otherwsise. You can also just say "ты мой" [ti moy] (you're mine). Also can be used to refer in third person, like when you're discussing your man with your gossip girls, you can just go "а мой вчера..." [a moy vch'era] (and mine yesterday...) and everyone will understand that you mean your man. Unless you wee discussing pets, then they'll probably assume it's your cat.

хозяин/хозяйка [khoz'yain/khoz'yayka] (n) - saw this one too btw. This means "owner" or kiiiinda "master/mistress", and they are gendered, so it's actually wrong to call a woman "хозяин" unless there's some kinky genderfuckery going on (which I'm all for, but like. you get what I mean).

господин/госпожа [gospod'in/gospozha] (n) - okay, THAT is definitely master/mistress, also gendered. Standard BDSM terminology and yada yada.

And that's where I'd like to wrap up for today! However, if needed, I can write more - perhaps with curse words or with sex-related words, or some phrases? I dunno, you tell me! Once again, I kindly ask you to share since I think this will help people (and while I understand the struggle of writing in another language and especially using words from language you don't speak at all, I can't help but be a little thrown off every time I see a wrong use of words in text).

Also remember: while Siberia is bigger than USA or even Canada, there are still other regions in Russia that deserve to be mentioned <3 a lot of places with mindblowing nature, cultural heritage etc.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 14: Don't Be A Bundt Cake

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

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

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy, Miscommunication Trope

Word Count: 13.1K

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

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

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

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Series Masterlist

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

Reader POV

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

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

But you didn't notice any of it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you desperately needed the comfort of her embrace.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But what would I say?

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

He's really not the best at that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damn it Darren.

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

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

Darren.

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

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

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

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

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

"Honey?" Your grandmother says in a soothing voice

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

"Yeah?" Your voice shakes slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You saw it?" You repeat, confused.

What's going on?

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

"What?"

Is she saying what I think she's saying?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You pretended to be a fortune teller?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She left without telling him goodbye?

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

“But what about Nicaragua?"

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

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

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

You could feel your heart breaking for her.

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

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

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

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

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

“When?”

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

“Was he mad?”

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

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

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

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

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

“And when would that be?”

Your grandmother shrugs. “Maybe on my deathbed.”

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

 You snort. “And no one knew?”

“Your dad figured it out.”

“How? When?”

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

“I was never injected?”

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

“Darren thought I was.”

“I know.”

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“You heard everything Darren said?"

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think you ever will.”

"Really?"

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

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

“Was it really that bad?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve seen-“ Your eyes widen.

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

“That’s so weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I killed Darren, I killed Elijah-"

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

"But-"

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head.

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

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

"Why not?"

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

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

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

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

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

"You don't?"

"Gran!"

"What? He's attractive."

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

"He has." She interrupts.

"What?"

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

"What does that have to do with anything?"

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

"Why does that matter?"

"Because he loved her."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait-"

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

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

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

"Okay."

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

Soldier Boy POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he wasn't sure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Di?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"About what?"

"My granddaughter."

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

"Yes." Her voice softens for a moment.

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

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

The thought that home wasn't with him.

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

"No, not good."

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

"No."

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

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

Oh. Ben relaxed a little bit.

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

"Yes you do!" Diana presses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She certainly hasn't changed.

“I am not avoiding-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what’s that?”

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

“She doesn’t care about me!” He spits.

“She does!” Diana snaps back. “And believe it or not she needs you here and she wants you here.”

"But-"

"Ben please." It was the first time that he'd heard Diana sound softer and almost pleading since the conversation started. "Don't do this to her. She's worth more than Countess and all those other women you've fallen into bed with."

"Do you really think I don't know that?" He roars. The answer surprises himself. "Do you think I don't know that she's different?"

Wait what?

"If you know that, then why aren't you here?"

He hesitates.

Everything you said to him the night of the party comes roaring back. You looking beautiful in a dress that made his throat tight, and you telling him that you just wanted to be friends and that you understood that he wasn't the type of guy to have relationships. He didn't understand why it stung a bit when you said that, but it had.

Ben thinks about the week that the two of you spent together after Diana went home, when he tried his best to take care of you, distract you from everything that happened with his movies, and would sit with you and try to make you laugh. He'd never wanted to take care of someone before.

Not to mention he kind of liked the way you laughed. He wouldn’t admit that to anyone, but each time you did, it made him want to laugh too. That had never happened to him before. But he wanted to make you laugh to forget everything that happened with Elijah. His fist clenches when he thinks of exactly what Elijah tried to do to you and it makes him feel so mad that he feels close to spontaneously combusting. Ben might not be the best role model when it came to women, but he couldn’t imagine the type of man who would force himself on someone else.

It had made him angry when he thought that you were suggesting that he would try something when he first moved in, because he wasn't that type of man.

Ben was trying to be better for you. He wasn't admitting that, but he really was trying to be better. He didn't understand why. You'd told him countless times that you didn’t want to be with him, that you wanted to be with someone else like Jake.

Ben frowns when he thinks about the man he'd pulled from the rubble of the shop. And again thinks to himself that you should be with someone different, someone who was a supe and could understand you. Ben had seen how difficult it was for Diana when she was keeping her supe life a secret from your grandfather and he didn't want you to have to do that with someone.

"Because I'm not-" Ben begins to say, but he holds his tongue. It was too honest, too raw, too unlike him to admit this to anyone.

Because I'm not this guy. Because I'm not the one she wants. Because I'm not some knight on a white horse. Because she's everything right with the world and I'm just a fucking asshole who sleeps on her couch.

"Ben." Diana breathes and he can practically hear her pinching the bridge of her nose. "In all the years I've known you, you've never done what you did for her with anyone else. You carried her out of that warehouse, you stayed with her in the hospital even after she woke up, you took care of her when she came home, you protected her from Darren. You can't ignore all those things."

"I'm not ignoring them. She's my friend." The word sours in his mouth as he says it. "And she would have done the same thing for me." He knew it was true.

She's a good person and she wouldn't let me chase her away if any of that shit happened to me and I told her to leave me alone.

"Yes she would. Because she cares about you." Diana sighs.

"She doesn't."

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Because she's told me what she wants!" Ben shouts so loudly he can feel the room shaking. "She wants to be friends-“

"Because she doesn't think that you want a relationship you nitwit!"

"I don't." Ben spits the words before he can stop them, but as he does something tightens at the base of his throat.

"How is it that it's been forty fucking years and you're still able to dance on the grave of my last nerve?"

Ben chuckles. "I missed you too sweetheart."

She sighs into the phone again making it crackle in Ben's ear. "She needs you.” Diana repeats. “And I think you need her too.”

His temper was flaring again, the thoughts that his father pressed into him surging up before he can stop the words. “I don’t need anyone. I’m Sol-“

“If you say that you’re Soldier Boy, I’m going to reach through this phone and slap you silly.” She snaps. “And you do need her, but you’re still just too stubborn to admit it.”

“I-“

“Ben I know that everything that happened with Countess was fucked up, but my granddaughter she-“ Diana pauses before she changes the thought.  “You say that you know she’s different, but right now you’re treating her the same way you treat all those other women.”

“I’m not-“

“My granddaughter has decided you’re important to her and once that’s happened it’s hard to make her let go. You saw the way she was with Darren and that guy was a manipulative asshole. Imagine what she thinks of you.”

“I-“

“Stop making excuses!”

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say!” Ben shouts.

“And I don’t need to! Think what you want Ben but if you’d stop acting so stubborn and so ridiculously blind to what’s right in front of you. I promise that what comes next is worth the risk.”

“Don’t go all fucking mystical on me doll.”

“And don’t go all macho- no feelings asshole on me! So stop being so damn stubborn, get on a plane and get your ass here.” She retorts. “Don’t fuck this up Benjamin because if you do I’ll fuck you up.”

The line goes dead.

Ben sat there for a minute in the silence still holding the phone up to his ear, listening to what your grandmother said to him ring around in his head for a second.

No one ever spoke to him that way. In fact, Ben had never allowed anyone to speak to him the way that she did, well, not until you came along. You reminded him so much of her that it was astounding and he wasn't going to admit that maybe it's why he liked being around you so much.

Ben frowns at what Diana said, thinking about the unusual feelings that were swirling in the pit of his stomach. He felt wrong and the feelings were odd for him. He hadn't felt anything remotely like this ever in his life, not even for Countess.

And although Ben refused to be afraid of anything, the feelings he was having scared him. He didn’t understand and he wasn't sure that he wanted to. He wasn't sure that he wanted to see where this ended up. He felt like he was in too deep.

As much as he wanted to go to you like Diana ordered him to, he wasn't sure that he should. Something was holding him back, digging it's heels in and refusing to budge.

But why do I feel like-

His phone rings and he doesn't look at the caller ID when he picks up, expecting it to be Diana again, yelling at him.

"Di I-"

But it's not Diana.

"Hello Ben. It's nice to hear your voice again." The familiar voice says, sounding calm and collected.

"What the fuck do you want?" Ben snarls.

 "I thought it was time the two of us had a chat.”

A/N: At this point Diana is really just trying to give both Ben and the reader the kick in the pants they need. And yes I know another cliffhanger, but you know you love it. 🤭😉 We are quickly reaching the end of this series, but that means the confession scene is coming and I am so excited about it!!

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know. 😊

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[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Butcher!Simon x gn!reader Part 11 I know it's been forever. I finished my exam and then fell into an energy coma and did not get anything done. Sorry if this chaper is kinda disappointing but I'm trying to find my flow again with this; I gave it my best shot. These two still make me go insane. As always if I messed up readers description please tell me. I am merely a self indulgend human who is prone to mistakes. Part 10 | COD Masterlist | (Part 12)

Simon’s pretty sure he’s beet red under his helmet. Now that he’s making his way through traffic with your arms wrapped around him the previous interaction is catching up to him and he can’t believe he had the audacity to touch you like that.

Then again, you hadn’t objected. Maybe you’d just been too polite to shove his hand off. But you had grabbed it, held it too, maybe that moment hadn’t been as one sided as he feared (who is he kidding, why would an angel like you willingly touch a sinner like him).

He tries to shake the thoughts off, just being thankful that he got those precious moments forever seared into his memory.

Suddenly your arms are gone from around him and he almost gets worried until he realizes that you merely spread them to the side, wriggling your fingers trying to feel the wind. Before he can stop himself one of his hands finds your thigh and he gently grabs onto you, making sure you’re still there. His heart is beating so loudly he can feel it echo through his body, surely you can feel it through the thick gloves and pants, drumming against your skin, spelling his devotion in Morse code.

The fact that you don’t seem bothered by it in the least tilts the picture he had of you in his mind sideways. You’re wary, shy and scared without your dog, but not uncomfortable with casual physical touch and he’s incredibly thankful for it.

Simon’s not sure since when he’s someone who wants to casually touch others (he doesn’t, he only wants to touch you, he wants you to touch him too, wants you to wrap your hands around his throat and make him yours) but he wants to touch you. Preferably all day, every day.

He can feel himself short-circuit when your arms wrap around him again and your hands slowly stroke up and down his chest and stomach. Hopefully you can’t feel the way his heart tries to squeeze its way through his ribs to fall into your perfect hands.

Once again his chest swells with a warm thick feeling and he wants to tear his ribs open, carve out his heart and make a home for you in its stead. He wants to chain you to him so he won’t have to spend another second without you (okay, fucking weirdo, he should really get a grip on his thoughts).

It’s the best ride of his life with you pressed close to him and every now and then spreading your arms. He can even pretend you’re wrapping your arms around him out of want and not necessity. Maybe he can remember the feeling the next time he wakes up alone from a nightmare.

He thinks of your mutt, who gets to wake up to you every morning. Simon would sleep in a dog bed too if it meant he could be close to you like that.

The ride is over far too soon when he parks a few streets away from the venue. Immediately he holds out his hand for you to get off and you take it, putting your other hand onto his shoulder to stabilize yourself while you get off with ease.

You take of the helmet and gear. Simon can’t help but appreciate the view of you stripping something off, even if it is only the outermost layer. Immediately he admonishes himself for the path his thoughts take but he really can’t help it when you wriggle out of the gear and hand it to him to put it back in the cases.

“Ready?”, he asks you and your excited grin is almost infectious. Now that you’re near the concert hall you’re all restless buzzing energy. Most of it excitement but he can sense an underlying nervousness too.

Simon is sure that Wraith could have calmed you down in seconds. For a moment he almost misses the mutt, if only for how comfortable he makes you. Then he shakes it off. He’s here and he’ll take better care of you than the mutt. He’ll show you that there’s nothing to fear with him at your side.

Slowly he places one of his hands on your shoulder and your body stills. His eyes zero in on the way it looks so fucking big against you and he swallows dryly. Your eyes find his and he tries to reassure you through his body language alone, squeezing your shoulder to ground you.

You take a few deep breaths and then your hand comes up, reaching for his. He nearly chokes on his own saliva when instead of brushing him off, you take his hand in yours and bring it down so you can comfortably hold it.

“So we don’t get separated.”, you say softly while slight pink dusts your cheeks.

Oh.

Simon is so utterly fucked.

It takes all his willpower to just gently squeeze your hand instead of sweeping you off your feet so he can kiss you breathless and slip his tongue between your perfect lips, taste if you’re as sweet as you look (oh god, he should stop fantasizing about kissing you or he’s going to lose his mind).

He nods, like a normal person and manages answer without stumbling over his words. “Of course.”

It’s a throwback to the way you strolled through the park, but this time you initiated the contact and Simon might be floating instead of walking.

As you approach the concert hall more and more people join your direction and your eyes widen as you take in the crowds. Now you’re looking around a lot, scanning those closest to you as if you expect danger any moment now. It reminds Simon of a little meerkat on the lookout and he probably should not find it as endearing as he does.

He takes a deep breath and when he exhales a bit of calmness settles over him. It’s almost like a mission, when he thinks about it. Get you safely into the building, let you enjoy yourself and safely get you back. Stuff like that he can handle. Stuff like that he’s done before. Stressful situations are where he –

You step closer to him, your other arm coming up as well and now you’re damn near hugging his arm. Simon almost stumbles over his own feet but he catches himself and looks at your overwhelmed expression.

He extracts his arm from your almost hug and instead puts it around you, effectively pulling you into his side. He holds his breath for a second, afraid that any unnecessary movement may spook you (breathing is unnecessary when it comes to your comfort).

Instead of pulling away you seem to slightly relax and he continues leading you into the hall. When you enter you crane your neck to look around and then your eyes settle on Simon.

“I’ve never been to an event this big!”, you shout over the deafening sound of thousands of people having their own private conversations.

“Get ready to have your mind blown. Been to one of their concerts before. They’re bloody brilliant, sweetheart.”, he shouts back and once again you giddily hop in place a bit. This time he gets to feel the movement against his side and he fights himself to not crush you against him in his intense need to hold you closer.

He looks around, satisfied that he managed to herd you to the front row directly before the stage. After all you deserve nothing but the best experience and any regret he could have had for the people behind him that might have a slightly obstructed view, dies the second you beam up at him.

“Thank you, Simon.” You nearly squeal and he knows his eyes crinkle with the way he smiles so wide.

“Welcome, sweetheart.”

His own excitement is growing, not just at your anticipation but because he can’t wait for the music to start. His gaze is embarrassingly soft as he looks down at you, next to him and he fights the need to place his hand on your hips and pull you closer.

At least he knows that the hall will get so crowded that more physical contact between you two is inevitable and Simon will soak that up like a sponge that’s been dry for years.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Hii i love love love your desi reader fics!! It would be really nice if you could write an Oscar Piastri x desi!reader fic maybe reader is a fan of Oscar and meets him accidentally? and they kinda hit up immediately? like a strangers to lovers fic <333

crashing and clicks ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ op x desi!reader ¸.♡.¸

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ fluff ¸.♡.¸

masterlist ☾☼

travelling to an expensive country like monaco, and watching the monaco grand prix had always been a dream of yours. your sole motivator for years of working had been to earn enough money to spend a proper one week vacation in monaco, including paddock passes for your favourite team, mclaren, and a chance to meet your favourite driver, oscar piastri.

you had a camera around your neck and you clicked pictures as you walked through the streets. people, cars, building, the sheer luxury that screamed from every atom in the city. you were trying to build a portfolio. something good enough that you could quit your 9-5 job and pursue photography full time. you had an instagram account already. you shared your pictures, and you got likes and comments. you had a decent following, though, nowhere near how you much you would need to be a good, reliable photographer.

of course, your parents had questioned that multiple times, with the usual questioning of "what will people say?" "how will you live on such an income?" "just find a rich man to marry first, then do all of this."

you had indulged in their line of questioning the first two times, and then gave up. nothing would stop them from convincing you a steady income was better and photography was a hobby, not a career. you understood that it came from a place of concern, but it still hurt a little bit.

your body clock reminded you that it was time for some chai. apparently, no matter what timezone you were in, at 5 o'clock, your body instantly craved tea. quickly looking for a nearby cafe, you walked in, making sure to protect your camera.

standing in queue, you quickly put your camera inside your bag carefully, and pulled out the amount you would need as you surveyed the menu. a chai tea and an almond biscuit would do.

quickly ordering and briefly chatting with the woman at the counter, you waited at the side for your name to be called. you knew they were going to butcher up your name, so it was easier to just stand close and wait for your order on your own.

when they called out your name, ruining it, of course, you quickly took your hot tea and the plate with the almond biscuit, and turned, looking for a place to sit. finding a corner table near the window, you started making your way over. the cup was filled to the brim, and you were trying to make sure that it wouldn't spill.

just as she reached her table and was about to set her cup down, someone crashed into her from behind, muttering quick sorries as her drink spilled all over the table, and her hands nearly soaked in the hot beverage.

"oh my god, im so sorry. um, are you hurt?" you were ready to fight whoever made you drop your tea. but you knew that voice. you heard it in videos over and over again.

slowly turning around, you came face to face with oscar piastri. the oscar piastri.

if you'd met him in any other circumstance, you would probably have been more excited. for now, your spilled tea was a much bigger concern.

your eyes fell on the spilled cup, and you said in a small, dejected voice, "my chai,"

oscar followed your gaze, instantly realising what you were talking about and why you seemed so sad. "oh my god, i'm so sorry! my friend and i were playing around, and we didn't mean to spill your drink,"

"yeah, really sorry about that," a voice, lando norris' voice said from behind oscar, looking apologetic and mildly amused.

"don't worry, though, oscar's going to buy you another drink." lando stated, clapping a hand on oscar's back.

oscar turned to lando, confused, "i am?" and then immediately turned to you, "i mean, yes! i am! i'll buy you another drink!"

you sighed, "no, it's not necessary,"

"no, no, i insist. i spilled your drink, i should get you a new one," oscar insisted.

you wanted to say no, that it didn't matter. but oscar piastri was offering you a drink. that felt like a once in a lifetime opportunity.

you agreed.

oscar immediately smiled, and you smiled back. you didn't know why, you just wanted to after seeing his soft smile.

"great! well, i've got to run, so enjoy your little date!" lando said, before rushing off.

you had forgotten that lando had been standing there too. his insinuation that this was a date made you blush. this wasn't a date. right? he was oscar piastri. you were you.

regular people don't go out with rich people on dates.

oscar gestured for you towards the counter, and with a shy smile, you did. he followed closely behind, a little air of awkwardness between the two of you.

"what were you drinking?" he asked while the two of you waited in line.

"oh, i had ordered tea. never got to drink it, though," you teased.

oscar smiled softly, "i am sorry about that,"

you nudged him slightly, "it's okay, i was just teasing,"

"so, a chai tea?"

you stared at him incredulously, "how dare you?"

oscar's face filled with panic, "what? what did i do?"

"it's not chai tea! it's either chai or tea!"

"but it's called chai tea!"

"no, oscar! chai means tea! tea in hindi is called chai. so, chai tea is essentially-"

"tea tea,"

"exactly!" the two of you had moved up the line, your hands flying as you spoke animatedly.

once at the counter, you ordered your drink, oscar sneakily paying for it after you insisted on doing so, and this time, oscar held your drink as the two of you walked back to the same table where you had originally spilled your drink.

the two of you sat together. the two of you talked. about anything and everything. it didn't really matter. you had plans for the day. you were sure that oscar had plans for the day. but, well until after sunset, the two of you sat at the table, ordering drinks after drinks, and just kept on talking.

you told him about your country, and your life growing up, and what you were doing in monaco. he told you about his country, and his life growing up, and the differences in the media about his job.

you told him about your career, and your passion, and your freedom. he told you about his career, his team, and his independence.

you told him about your pet, and your favourite moments with your best friends, and your beautiful, beautiful mother.

he told you about his trips around the world, and his favourite moments of having lando as a teammate, and his beautiful, beautiful mother.

there were so many things to talk about. there wasn't enough time. technically, you were going to see him the next three days because you've got the paddock passes. but, you won't be able to spend time with him. and it made you a little sad to think about.

oscar walked you back to your hotel. the walk was a little long. but you didn't mind. you got to spend time with him. that's what you wanted, and that's what you got.

somewhere, sometime along the way, your hand ended up tucked in the inside of his elbow. somewhere, sometime along the way, he leaned in closer to you. somewhere, sometime along the way, you realised that oscar piastri was everything you had been looking for.

you weren't sure if it would work. for one, it would have to be a long distance relationship, with minimal visits from your end because money was always a little tight. for another, oscar had an ever-moving job. there wasn't any stability, at least not that you could see.

what were the chances that it would work?

before he left, he asked for your phone number. of course, he did. you gave it to him happily, albeit a little shyly. you were going to see him the next day. he knew that too. he made you promise to text him once you had reached the paddock, because he wanted to see you.

oscar piastri wanted to see you.

you agreed.

that night, you went to bed with a smile on your face.

the next morning, you checked your phone as soon as you woke up, not sure what you were expecting. but whatever you were expecting had come true, because there was oscar's message right there on the top, telling you about how excited he was to see you.

you danced your way through your routine, you sang your way to the paddock. you had a smile on your face that you couldn't erase, and you just had a good feeling about this.

as soon as you reached the paddock, you texted oscar. though, before you could find him, lando found you first.

"hey, you're the girl from yesterday!" he exclaimed, pointing at you slightly.

you laughed, "yeah, that's me,"

"what are you doing here?"

"i have the paddock passes for the three days, and oscar told me to text him once i reached,"

lando smirked, "oh, he did, did he?"

your cheeks heated up.

"y'all are cute already. come on, i'll take you to him," lando said, and began walking.

you followed him.

you were nervous suddenly. how were you going to greet oscar? what if he didn't want to see you inside wherever lando was taking you? what if he just wanted to have a quick chat with you and move on?

to distract yourself, you took pictures. people, drivers, the paddocks, everyone and everything.

lando noticed your camera, and made you promise to show some later.

finally, you reached oscar. he was in the team kit. his eyes lit up when he saw you and your heart did a little something funny.

"y/n! hi!" he said, as he rushed towards you, stopping right in front of you.

lando giggled, slapping oscar on his back as he walked away.

"hi,"

"you made it!"

"i mean, i did have the paddock passes," you teased.

his cheeks became pink, just slightly, as he rubbed the back of his neck, "that's true, yes,"

"i'm happy to see you, though," you said, taking a brave step forward.

he smiled radiantly, "so am i,"

and then, he led you around the paddock, introducing you to people as if he hadn't just met you yesterday. he showed you all kinds of places, told you all kinds of things. you clicked pictures as much as you could, wanting to add them in your digital diary.

and that's how your three days went by.

oscar showed you every place possible, you captured everything you found beautiful.

now, if most of the phots ended up being oscar's, that's not your fault. he didn't have to be beautiful.

you captured the cars on track, and you captured the fans. you captured the team reactions, and you captured the machinery.

you captured pictures of lando laughing with his team, and you captured pictures of oscar discussing with his race engineer.

just after qualifying was when everything changed.

lando had pole position, with oscar starting p2. it was a papaya front row. both drivers were excited to win for the team. after the interviews were done, oscar had told you that he would change, and then he'd drop you back to your hotel. while you waited in the paddock for him, lando approached you.

"show me the pictures you took," he said.

"you demand a lot,"

he rolled his eyes, smiling, "alright, show me the pictures you took, please,"

you giggled, "that's more like it," and you handed him your camera.

you were suddenly nervous about him looking at the pictures you took. they weren't amazing, but they weren't bad either.

lando went through the pictures, focused, and your anxiety grew.

just then, oscar approached.

"hey guys, what's going on?" he asked.

"osc, you didn't tell me how talented she is,"

"what do you mean?"

you chewed on your lip.

"i mean that these pictures are fucking good. i bet if we show them to zak or andrea or whoever, they'd hire her,"

"lando, come on-" you started.

"i'm serious, y/n. come here, oscar, look at these,"

oscar shifted towards lando, leaning over his shoulder to see.

"guys, i haven't edited them yet, and like, a lot of them are trash-"

"fuck, these are really good," oscar didn't say 'fuck' a lot, and for him to be saying it in the moment seemed like a big deal.

"y/n, what if you edit these pictures tonight, and get them tomorrow to show to the media head?" oscar asked.

you hesitated.

"look, you wanted to pursue your passion, but you were worried about the money, right? this kind of solves all of your problems," he stated.

"what other problems? long distance kinds?" lando teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

"shut up!" oscar said, though his ears were tinged red.

"okay. i can do that. it's worth a shot," you said, staring at your camera, before you looked at oscar, who was already staring at you, "right?"

"right." he nodded.

you took the camera back, and you walked with oscar to his car. the two of you made idle conversation. your mind was buzzing with the million possibilities of what could happen tomorrow, not just with the race, but with your career.

you knew that lando and oscar weren't so cruel that they'd lie to you. but you also knew that you pictures weren't as good as they claimed it to be.

"hey, don't overthink it, okay? go with the designs and the pictures you think are the best," oscar softly encouraged you, as he parked in front of your hotel.

you nodded, taking a deep breath, before you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "thank you,"

and you climbed out of his car.

you were awake almost all night, designing and redesigning your pictures, choosing the best of the best from your trip. you were filled with anxiety, but you also felt alive. you were excited to see where this would lead to.

just before you went to bed, close to 5 am, oscar's name popped up on your phone.

"come an hour earlier, please" he'd said in the text. you had replied immediately, letting him know that you'd be there.

another message came from him, but you were already out cold by then.

you woke up buzzing, excited to see the reactions you would get for your photography. you tried not to get your hopes up too much. there was a big chance that all of it could end up meaning nothing. but, you were still grateful for the opportunity.

as per oscar's request, you arrived at the paddock an hour early, immediately walking to where you knew oscar would be. it was funny how you knew the paddock so well already because of oscar showing you around.

you found oscar quickly, and he didn't waste any time in grabbing your hand and pulling you into an office.

"where are we going?" you asked.

"the media head wants to see you,"

"damn, i don't get a hi hello then?"

oscar stopped suddenly, causing you to crash into him. he turned to look at you. the two were you were standing close, closer than ever before.

"hi, y/n," he said with a smile.

"hi, oscar," you replied, matching his grin.

"ready to go now?"

you nodded, "yes,"

and he began pulling you away again.

once he found the media head, he pushed you towards her.

taken slightly aback, you introduced yourself, and handed her your ipad with the pictures on it.

the media head was nice when she spoke to you, but once she started looking at the pictures, you began to worry again.

you turned and looked at oscar, who gave you a little thumbs up of encouragement.

she nodded, handing the ipad back to you, and you quickly took it from her.

"they're good. they could be better. you could start with an internship position here, and we go forward from there, if you're willing,"

"yes! thank you so much!" you exclaimed.

she discussed the logistics with you, about meeting with the legal team later and meeting zak and andrea, and everything. all you could think about in that moment was that maybe the thing between you and oscar could actually end up being something real.

safe to say, everything went smoothly after that.

as soon as she was out of your sight, you immediately turned around and threw yourself in oscar's arms, unable to stop yourself. oscar hugged you back eagerly, his arms wrapping around your waist tightly.

as you pulled back, you whispered, "thank you,"

oscar smiled, the two of you still wrapped in each other, "this way i get to keep you with me everywhere,"

you laughed and nodded, "who knew a stranger crashing into me could lead to all of this, huh?"

oscar blushed again, "i did apologise for that!"

"what if we go out again and i'll make you try proper tea?"

he smiled, his eyes flicking to your lips once, "i'd like that,"

years later, on your wedding day, you posted pictures of oscar in his sherwani clicked by you, with the caption "from crashing and clicks to forever dreams come true."

•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•

hi! thank you so much for reading! i'm still trying to figure out how to write oscar. i think i relate more with lando and max personality-wise, so it's easier for me to write rpf about them. anyways! this was my first oscar x reader! i hope you like it. this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

[shoutydwarf]

Veilguard ending spoilers

It's so hard for me to talk about how I feel about Solas because on one hand, there's great potential in his arc, but on the other, bioware has completely butchered that in such a profound way that I don't care to look past the hiccups to enjoy him.

First, he's race locked. This really doesn't help to contest the idea that he's a supremacist. If it was truly a time crunch issue where they added it so late they couldn't add the other races, but knew at the time what Solas was and what he meant to the plot - why, on gods green fucking earth, was it included at all? Because they spend the whole next game trying really hard to convince you he's not just an ages old racist stuck in his ways, only to not just have race locked him but to hide his most egregious act, of which he committed against a certain race he's known to be racist towards.

You'll be hard pressed to catch a certain type of solavellan, which encompasses the majority of them, even saying the word titan. The part that baffles me is you'll also be hard pressed to hear SOLAS HIMSELF saying it in game. If I'm recalling correctly, I only heard him say it one singular time outside of the mural memories. At the very end of the game.

There is zero acknowledgement on his part of what he did, at least not in any meaningful way. The orb that the evanuris made their foci out of that Solas says is an elven artifact? Titan heart. The dagger he made? Titan blood. The empire of Arlathan? Founded on the blood and genocide of titans. And I mean that in the most literal sense that I can. All of their godly powers that they used to create their empire was pulled from the well of titan souls they locked within the Golden City.

It's fucking poetic at this point. They silenced the titans so good and well that it seems not even Solas remembers what his glorious kingdom of old cost. It's even funnier if you stand in front of him as a Cadash or a dwarf!Rook.

This man they're trying SO HARD to beat into you around every corner that he's so so sad, he's so so full of regret and sorrow, he's so depressed and anguished over his deeds, not once acknowledges in a way that matters that what he and the evanuris did to the titans was wrong. And if he doesn't feel remorse over that in any way that's loud enough for him to talk about it as he does the veil, how the fuck am I supposed to believe he's sorry for all the other things?

Weekes has admitted to literally, somehow, casually forgetting dwarves don't dream when they were writing the scene of the Haven dream with Solas and the Inquisitor. Add this to how many lines dwarf!rook has of comparing things to dreams, casting necromancy spells etc and it becomes pretty clear that they never intended to afford this genocided race lore reveal the gravity it needed. They just needed it as a minor plot device in a greater elven narrative that completely, utterly, 100% unravels the message they're desperate to send with Solas. They really said to solavellans don't worry, kittens, he committed a really heinous, unforgivable act that he's not taking any strides to repair but we're not going to have him talk about it at all so you can continue ignoring it and scrolling tiktok during Harding's questline. And yall said okay ❤️ yay ❤️.

And no, you can't argue that his goal was always to tear down the Veil to restore immortality/magic to the elves AND wake up the titans. Because those are two separate things, and one of those things he never once said he was doing. He doesn't need the titans awake to take down the Veil and restore Arlathan. In fact, he very much needs them to stay tranquil, otherwise he'd finally get the ass whooping he fucking deserves when my dwarves not only attack his unguarded kneecaps with hammers but start chucking rocks at him and booing loudly.

This is why he's irredeemable for me. This is why I wanted an ending where I can kill him, not because I hate him as a concept or even as a character, but because his writing is such a fucking joke. And putting him into a sock and banging him against the counter is the only valid response to such a cosmic fumble because it's the only option that matches its freak in being so ridiculous. It's bad writing, it's weak, cheap, lazy, and directly crumbles the entire foundation.

While the ending of having him spend eternity soothing the dreams of the titans is excellent in form, because although it doesn't show him taking accountability it does show him taking steps to repair the damage he did to them, I don't ever get to establish, as a dwarf Rook or even just as a player, that THAT is why I want him to do this. Nobody says, "Make this right by earning the forgiveness of your first victim." Instead, for Solas, it's like, "well, since I have to go there anyway, I might as well. I guess. Whatever."

All this while they're in that AMA saying shit like "two groups are more affected than any other by the evanuris - the elves and (wait for it) Tevinter."

A fucking joke, I tell you.

[woeswrites]

Yandere Will Graham

Warnings: Yandere themes, Obsessive behaviors, Brief mention of rape/rapist, Dubious consent (mention of sex while under the influence), etc.

Notes: I am trying to be active again (fingers crossed). Little posts like this are a really easy way for me to get the creative juices flowing. Don't be surprised if a few more come out after this one lol.

You were a recent survivor of an attack

No, it wasn't the Chesapeake Ripper

It was just some other wannabe serial killer trying to get his rocks off

He had a dumb, stereotypical name too

The midnight slasher? midnight butcher?

Something like that

The media wasn't very creative with it

Whatever his name was, he'd clearly had a type

Young men

All of a similar stature

With the same hair and eye color

All known to be up at all hours of the day

It was a pretty open and shut case in Will's eyes

He was a plain and simple lust killer

Most likely white and in his 30s-40s

Classic closet case turned homicidal

He hadn't seen why the FBI was so stumped on the whole thing

The only real trouble was the lack of DNA evidence

He'd been real good at cleaning up after himself

Will knew he'd slip up eventually

This wasn't the type of guy to be so well organized for long

Well--

Does being murdered by your most recent victim count as a slip up?

Because that's exactly what happened

He was called to the scene with the rest of the team

The sight of you trembling, covered in blood, and standing over top of that creep was his first impression

You met his eyes and he was unable to pull away

Something about your tear blotched face held him captive

Jack tasked him with asking you questions about the events at hand

Normally this would have annoyed Will

He wasn't the talking type

Let alone someone sensitive enough to make such a traumatized person feel comfortable

But something in him didn't mind so much

Maybe it was the way you looked so vulnerable

Or the fact that no matter how much he pushed the idea away, he saw himself in you

An innocent man turned murderer under the right circumstances

"I'm Will Graham and I'll be asking you some questions."

"God, okay. I'm Y/n. Can't really say it's nice to meet you."

Will tried to start off slow

Ask the basics before moving onto the more pertinent information

You'd answer to the best of your abilities (considering the circumstances)

It took Will a second to jot down your responses

He'd get a little too caught up in your features to notice you'd stop talking

"Sorry, what was that? You got off work at 9?"

There was something admirable about your attempts to infuse your story with a bit of dry humor

Likely a coping mechanism

But Will found himself smiling a bit at your quips

By the time he'd finish up with you he'd felt a little attachment form

Sure the case was over on his end

But it didn't stop him from asking Jack about you

At least a couple times a week

"How's things going with that self defense case? Y/n's...?"

Will showed up the next day with your case fill on his desk

The sticky note stuck to it warned about annoying Jack with too many questions

He'd spend all night re-reading the details

Without noticing he began slipping in and out of re-enactment mode

Imagining you on top of him

Knife in hand

Crazed look in your eyes

He tried to shake the image away

He shouldn't be doing this

It wasn't right

You could've died that night

His guilt ridden thoughts did nothing to lessen the tent that had formed in his pajama pants

He tried to push the idea of you out of his head

Usually he'd have more control over himself than this

His resolve was strong at first

He'd hidden the manila folder away in the depths of his lower drawer

Telling himself he'd drop it

That worked for a couple of days

That was before he started dreaming of you

Events that he hadn't preformed himself took ahold of him

He became your attacker that night

He chased you

He ripped apart your clothes

He was the one who you fought off

He's the one who you thrust that knife into

And he loved every second of it

Wait--

No, he couldn't

This was just his empathy disorder

Yeah!

He was just in character

This definitely wasn't him

He would never want to do any of that stuff

And he'd prove it

He had memorized that file from front to back at this point

It wouldn't be weird that he'd known your address

He was an FBI consultant

It was basically warranted

Will found himself picking out his best clothes that night

His newest jeans, tailored shirt, the works

Not for any particular reason

And his bed was definitely not littered with rejected articles of clothing

This was just going to be a simple checkup, it's not like it really mattered what he looked like

He showed up on your doorstep with the nicest bottle of wine he could find

"Will? Is that you?"

"Uh, yeah it is. Would I be able to come in?"

You welcomed him in, albeit a little confused

"I thought my case was cleared..."

"That's not what I'm here for. I just wanted to check in on you."

You smiled at this

And Will felt his heart ache

You'd invite him to join in on your sorry excuse for a dinner

He'd never accepted anything so fast before in his life

It didn't take long before the two of you got into the wine he'd brought

It was innocent enough at first

Just drinking and talking

You'd mention how life was after the attack

Will shared a little about his experience with GJH

Its the first time he had ever felt so utterly connected with another person before

But then the two of you got a little more than tipsy

And Will found himself leaning in

One kiss turned into another and another

Will felt a sense of static overtake him

Every touch between the two of you sent shivers up his spine

He felt the strong urge to consume

Before either of you knew it your clothes were now in a heap on the kitchen floor

You woke up the next morning with a splitting headache

Oh-- and an FBI agent in your bed

Shock was an understatement

That was when the memories of the previous night flooded back

Will woke up at the loss of warmth

Last night was the best he had slept in years

You wrapped tight in his arms, bodies perfectly intertwined

His heart sank at the look of regret on your face

"We definitely shouldn't have done that. I think you should leave Will..."

He couldn't just leave now

Not knowing what he did

That you two were made for one another

He'd try to calm you down

"Y/n let's talk about this."

You weren't having it

Mentioning how inappropriate this all was

You'd shove his clothes into his arms

Will tried to console you

Not realizing why you were so worked up

You both did just have the best night of your life after all

You'd back away but he'd continue approaching

"C'mon I know you don't really want me to go. Let's just take a second before we make any rash decisions"

"We aren't doing anything. I want you to go. Now."

Something about him coming over while you were still recovering from your distress and it all leading to this...

It just didn't feel right

Will tried to approach once more but you pushed him away

He couldn't help the smile that made its way onto his face

"Push me. Go on, make it hurt."

You were absolutely bewildered

He reached out and grabbed ahold of you

His grip was almost crushing

Like he was holding on for dear life

"I won't leave you alone that easily. Fate brought us together for a reason. You feel it too right? We're one in the same. We're each other's destiny."

He looked crazed, sweat slipping from his brow

It felt just like that night all over again

The knife in your hand as your attacker bled out

Only now Will took his place underneath you

[j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus]

FICMAS - DAY 4 - CHRISTMAS WITH HIS FAMILY

Title: Scottish Christmas

Synopsis: Going to Johnny's Mother's house for Christmas.

Warnings: I need to say this before ANYONE, especially someone who IS Scottish reads this. I AM NOT SCOTTISH. I DO NOT CLAIM TO BE SCOTTISH. I researched off of a glossary of slang derived from Scots English and Scots (Scots, Scots English, Scottish Gaelic, and English are ALL spoken in Scotland) and there is no clear location that Johnny is from within Scotland, so I kept it very general, and used slang to make up for my lack of knowledge. If ANY OF IT IS INCORRECT AND YOU NOTICE, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DM ORSEND AN ASK CORRECTING IT, I don't like being wrong and I don't want to offend anyone. Happy reading and Merry Christmas

AN: I tried to write this best as possible, I'm so sorry but it might be inaccurate to some degree, I'm merely an American (not to mention currently in busy because of the season) who's trying their damnedest to make this seem really accurate, yeah?

You're in a sweater--red--and jeans, your coat hanging over it all and black. Johnny is beside you, still struggling with his mittens a little, fidgeting because after all, this is the first time you're staying for more than a dinner with his *parents.* Your suitcase is behind you--obviously with the matching pajamas Johnny forced you into for Christmas photos because "His mam will simply die if she doesn't have a good photo!" Along with other effects, the things you'll need for the next bloody week.

Johnny fixes his mits entirely and grabs your gloved hand, reaching up and knocking on the door. He makes sure the cross his mother bought him for his 18th birthday is visible. He adjusts his cross, then his sweater.

Johnny's mom opens the door, pleasantly surprised to see you both.

"Ah! You're here!" She says with the largest grin, ushering your both inside.

"Johnny, lovie, go set your gifts by the tree, yeah?"

"'Ey, Mam, missed ya, too," he remarks with a devilish smirk, causing her to glare.

"You're lucky your thlittle burd is 'ere, keepin' me from yellin'. Love ya, too, John."

He shudders from his real name being used and walks off, trudging about in his snow boots all through the house. It makes his poor mother, Mrs. MacTavish, clutch her little necklace and scoff.

"D'ya see 'im? 'E's draggin' snow 'round the feckin' hoose," She says, absolutely offended by his actions.

You shrug, "He's like that at our home, too," you admit, taking your coat off.

Mrs. MacTavish scoffs, shaking her head in disdain, "Ye poor thin', 'ere, I'll take yer coa' an' ye go sit yers'lf doon."

She practically snatches your coat from you, pointing to where to take your shoes off.

You make it about.. three steps from the living room entrance and then you're positively bombarded by Johnny's three nieces and nephews- or, at least, the ones currently walking--Amelia, Noah, and Fraser. Johnny's sister shouts for them in Scottish Gaelic, sighing as those kiddos just don't listen.

You laugh as you're tackled to the ground, each one shouting "aun'ie," or "Aunt!" or your name horribly butchered by those cute little toddlery, Scottish voices.

You hug them all, slowly getting back up from the ground, to go say hi to his sister.

"Hey, Eden. How are you?" You ask, giving a nice, polite grin to her.

She smiles fondly, "'Ello- Haw! Simmer doon, 'Melia, aff yer brot'er!" She cuts herself off, glaring daggers to Amelia, who's currently tugging the hair of her brother, Noah.

She looks back up at you, "'M dooin' brand new," she says with a sarcastic glint in her eyes, before her newest baby who's she's currently bouncing in her arms starts to fuss.

She coos to him, before sighing and kissing his forehead, singing him some nursery rhyme to try to calm him.

That's when you feel two arms snake around your waist and pick you up, causing you to yelp.

"Johnny!" You shout out in a panic, squirming as he laughs and laughs. Eden's baby turns his little head and looks up all wide eyed, starting to laugh and laugh.

Eden seems to relax, sighing in relief while you're being brutally attacked loved on by Johnny.

You finally turn around to face him with that unamused expression you give him and he sighs, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling your neck lovingly. You let out an annoyed huff, rolling your eyes with a small grin.

Dinner that night is lovely--a nice brisket with the promise of a big Christmas dinner tomorrow. Tonight Eden, the kids, and Mrs. MacTavish all bake a mince pie, a Scottish tradition you never really.. understood.

You sit beside Johnny, curled up to his side, his feet on the ottoman. He has an arm wrapped around you, rubbing your shoulder as he and Mr. MacTavish, along with his brother-in-law all gather around to watch whatever Rugby match played earlier in the week--the highlights of it. Your eyes shut and you snuggle up to his side a little further, wrapping an arm around him and letting yourself fall asleep.

He looks happy down at you, sipping on a (spiked) eggnog, reaching up to stroke your hair as you start to just... drift.

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 21/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, hurt

Word Count: 3377

A/N: This is part 21 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As you stood there in the bathroom, staring at your reflection, the tumult of emotions swirling within you threatened to overwhelm you. Jay's presence in your life had brought moments of joy and comfort, but now faced with the prospect of intimacy, you found yourself grappling with feelings you hadn't fully acknowledged.

Your mind wandered back to Ben, his absence palpable yet his memory hauntingly present. Could you truly move forward with someone else, knowing the lingering shadow of Ben hung over you?

The sound of Jay's voice outside the bathroom door broke through your reverie, a reminder of the present moment and the person waiting on the other side. Part of you longed to confide in him, to share the inner turmoil consuming you, but another part hesitated, fearing his reaction and the potential fallout of your honesty.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay?". His tone was gentle, laced with concern. "You seem… off. Is there something you want to talk about?".

You hesitated, the weight of his words sinking in. Jay's genuine concern only served to amplify the turmoil within you. How could you explain the maelstrom of emotions churning inside your chest without delving into the depths of your past?

"I'm… I'm fine", you replied, your voice betraying a hint of uncertainty. "Just… dealing with some things".

There was a moment of silence before Jay spoke again, his tone softer now, filled with understanding. "You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, I'm here for you".

His words tugged at something deep within you, a flicker of hope amidst the chaos.

"I know", you murmured. "I just… need some time to sort things out".

You stepped out of the bathroom, your eyes red.

"C´mere", he whispered.

Feeling Jay’s arms envelop you in a comforting embrace, you let out a shaky breath, momentarily finding solace in his warmth. But his next words shattered the fragile calm that had settled over you.

“I just… I can’t shake this feeling”, Jay murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he held you close. “It’s like… I’m all in, you know? But sometimes it feels like you’re… not as committed to this as I am. I know we haven't been together that long, but it feels like you don't really want the whole thing”.

His words hung heavy in the air, a weighty reminder of the unspoken tensions simmering beneath the surface of your relationship. You swallowed hard, the guilt of withholding your true feelings threatening to suffocate you.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered, your voice tinged with regret. “I don’t mean to make you feel that way. It’s just… complicated”.

Jay pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours for answers. “Complicated how?”, he asked, his tone a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But as you met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes urged you to be honest.

“There’s… someone else”, you confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Was someone else, I… I don´t know. It´s someone from my… past, I guess. And I… I’m still trying to figure out what that means for me… for us”.

Jay’s expression faltered, a flicker of hurt crossing his features before he masked it with a forced smile. “I see”, he said quietly, though his eyes betrayed the turmoil within. “I guess I always knew there was something more”.

You reached out to touch his arm, a silent plea for understanding. “It’s not that I don’t care about you”, you insisted, your voice trembling with emotion. “It’s just… complicated”.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of your confession hanging heavily between you.

Feeling Jay’s gaze fixed on you, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself to share a glimpse of the tangled web that had ensnared your heart.

“We had… a connection, a deep one. But things didn’t end well”.

Jay listened intently, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity as he leaned back against the wall, his eyes never leaving yours.

“And now”, you whispered, the words barely “now I’m here, with you. But… but part of me still feels tied to him, to what we had”.

Jay looked down at you, his gaze searching yours with a mixture of compassion and uncertainty.

"Are you sure you're ready for a new relationship?", he asked. "I mean, if part of you still feels tied to him… it's okay to take more time to figure things out".

Your heart ached at his words, the truth of his question hitting you with a force you hadn't anticipated. Were you truly ready to move on, to fully commit to a new relationship?

You shrugged, unable to meet Jay's gaze as a pang of guilt washed over you. "I don't know", you admitted. "I want to be, but… it's hard".

A flicker of hurt crossed Jay's features at your words, his shoulders slumping slightly as he struggled to mask his disappointment. "I understand", he said quietly, though the pain in his eyes betrayed the depth of his feelings. "I just… I want you to be happy, whatever that means for you… for us".

Tears welled in your eyes as you reached out to him, desperate to ease the ache you had caused. "I'm sorry", you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I don't want to hurt you".

Jay enveloped you again in a gentle embrace, holding you close as if trying to shield you from the pain of your own indecision. "It's okay", he murmured against your hair, his voice filled with a quiet resignation. "We'll figure it out together, okay?".

And as you clung to him, the weight of your uncertainty pressing down on you.

With everything swirling in your mind, you felt as though you were losing yourself in the chaos. The person you once knew, the one who had made promises and believed in love, seemed like a distant memory now.

After letting yourself in with Ben, you were pretending to be someone you weren't. And now, with Jay, you had thrown yourself into a new relationship, hoping to find solace in his kindness and affection. But in the process, you were hurting him, and the realization cut you to the core.

As Jay held you close, offering comfort and understanding despite the turmoil within you, you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt gnawing at your insides. How could you continue to deceive him, to pretend that everything was fine when you were barely holding yourself together?

More tears welled in your eyes as you buried your face in Jay's chest, seeking refuge from the storm raging within you. "I don't know who I am anymore", you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion.

Jay held you tighter, his own heart heavy with the weight of your pain. "It's okay", he whispered, his voice filled with compassion. "We'll figure it out together. Just… be honest with me, okay? That's all I ask".

You nodded against his chest.

Jay held you close, his arms a comforting embrace as he gently brushed his hand over your back, soothing the ache that had settled deep within you.

"Hey", he murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress against your ear. "When was the last time you visited your mom, or your family? Or at least met with some friends?".

His question hung in the air, a stark reminder of the isolation that had gradually encroached upon your life in recent weeks. You thought back, trying to recall the last time you had reached out to anyone outside of your interactions with Jay, but the memory eluded you.

"I… I don't know", you admitted. "It's been a while. I've been so caught up in everything… I guess I lost track of time".

Jay's embrace tightened slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the loneliness that had crept into your life unnoticed. "Maybe… maybe it's time to reach out to them. They care about you, you know?".

Again you nodded against his chest, the weight of his words sinking in.

Jay pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head. "Come on", he said softly, his voice tender as he gently pulled away from your embrace. "Let's go back to the living room".

As you settled back onto the couch, Jay wrapped his arms around you once more, pulling you close as if to reassure himself of your presence. His touch was gentle, yet persistent, as he continued to brush his hand over your arm in a comforting gesture.

With each stroke, a sense of calm washed over you, the weight of your worries momentarily lifted by Jay's unwavering affection. Just like it has been for the last few weeks.

As you nestled into his embrace, Jay let out a soft sigh, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke.

"I think… I think you need to figure out your feelings", he murmured, his words tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "I don't want to push you into anything, but… I really like you. And… and I do not want to lose you. Whether as a girlfriend or just a friend".

His admission hung in the air, a vulnerable confession of his own desires and fears. You turned to look at him, finding solace in the warmth of his gaze as he continued.

"So maybe… maybe we can take it slow", Jay suggested, his voice tentative yet hopeful. "We don't have to rush into anything. We can just… see where things go".

His words resonated within you, a gentle reminder that healing and growth often came with time and patience. You nodded in agreement, a sense of relief washing over you as you leaned into his embrace.

"Thank you", you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. "For understanding".

Jay smiled softly, his fingers kept tracing soothing circles on your arm. "Always", he replied. "I'm here for you, no matter what".

In the days that followed, Jay and you spent countless hours talking, sharing stories, and getting to know each other on a deeper level. His presence became a source of comfort and stability, grounding you in the midst of uncertainty.

With each conversation, you felt pieces of yourself falling back into place, like a puzzle slowly being reassembled. Jay's patience and understanding gave you the space to explore your feelings and rediscover the person you once were.

One day, feeling a newfound sense of confidence and belonging, you suggested visiting the team again. Jay readily agreed, eager to meet the people who had played such a significant role in your life.

After introducing Jay to the others, everyone told you about the latest events, gave you an update on Homelander, and told you what it was like in the executive suite at Vought. Despite the distance and time apart, the bond you shared with them remained as strong as ever.

As the evening stretched on, you found yourselves gathered at a cozy bar with Hughie, Annie and Jay. Annie told you about her temporary leading position at vought.

You listened with admiration as she described the challenges and triumphs of her new role, marveling at her resilience and determination. Despite the pressures she faced, Annie seemed to thrive in the leadership position.

Meanwhile, Jay struck up a conversation with Hughie, the two of them quickly hitting it off. They exchanged stories and shared laughs, bonding over their mutual interests and experiences. You watched with a smile as Jay's easygoing charm drew Hughie out of his shell, the two of them becoming fast friends.

After a while, Annie led you to the bar to get some new drinks, the lively chatter of Hughie and Jay faded into the background, leaving you alone with your thoughts. As you waited for the bartender to take your order, Annie leaned in, her voice low and conspiratorial.

"So, what's the deal with you and Jay?", she asked, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I have to say, I really like him. You've definitely hit a good one".

You smiled weakly, grateful for Annie's support but unable to shake the weight of your own uncertainty. "He's great", you admitted, your voice tinged with hesitation. "But… I'm still trying to figure things out".

Annie nodded in understanding, her expression sympathetic. "I get it", she said softly. "But just know that Jay really cares about you. And if anyone can help you through whatever you're going through, it's him".

You sighed, the weight of her words settling heavily on your shoulders. "I know", you murmured, a pang of guilt tugging at your heart. "I just wish things weren't so… complicated".

Annie let out a sigh, her frustration evident as she leaned in closer, her voice tinged with exasperation.

“You need to forget about Ben”, she insisted, her tone firm. “He’s not worth your time or your heartache. You have someone amazing right in front of you, someone who genuinely cares about you”.

You nodded, knowing deep down that Annie was right. But as much as you wanted to let go, the pull of your feelings for Ben remained stubbornly strong.

“I know”, you replied softly, your voice filled with resignation. “But it’s not that easy. Ben… he made me feel things no one else ever could, or ever will”.

Annie rolled her eyes, her disdain for Ben evident in the way her lips curled into a frown. “Yeah, well, he was also a huge dick most of the time”, she muttered under her breath.

You couldn’t help but chuckle weakly at her bluntness. “That’s true”, you admitted with a rueful smile. “But despite everything, there was still something about him…”.

Annie shook her head, her frustration evident as she reached out to squeeze your hand in a gesture of support. “But you deserve someone who treats you right”.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the difficult conversation ahead. "I know Ben wasn't always ideal", you began, your voice tinged with emotion. "But he… he literally risked his life for me so many times… We, he, was special. We had something special".

"If there was really something special, he wouldn't have just left", she said bluntly, her words hitting you like a punch to the gut.

The truth in Annie's words cut deep, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within you. You knew she was right, that Ben's departure had left a gaping hole in your heart that seemed impossible to fill. But despite the pain, a part of you couldn't let go of the memories, the moments of connection and intimacy that had once brought you so much joy.

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to find the words to respond."But… it's not that simple…".

Annie reached out to you, her touch gentle as she wiped away your tears. "I'm sorry", she said softly, her voice filled with empathy. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just want you to be happy, that's all".

As you walked back to the table with Annie by your side, you couldn't shake the weight of her words echoing in your mind. With a heavy heart, you stole a glance at her, a silent plea for comfort and understanding.

"He didn't even say goodbye", you mumbled, the bitterness of the truth lingering on your tongue.

"He's just an asshole", she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"But he… had his reasons", you replied quietly, thinking about russia, though even you weren't entirely convinced by your own words.

Annie shook her head, her frustration evident as she linked her arm with yours. "Maybe", she conceded, her voice softening. "But that doesn't excuse the way he treated you. You deserve better than that".

In the apartment, Butcher, MM and Frenchie sat in tense silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Frenchie shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his brow furrowed with worry. “I don’t like lying to (y/n)”, he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with guilt.

Butcher let out a frustrated groan, his frustration palpable in the air. “If (y/n) knew we had captured Soldier Boy, she’d be on the next flight to free him”, he grumbled, his tone laced with bitterness.

MM glanced between his companions, his expression grave. “We can’t risk it”, he said firmly, his voice a quiet reminder of the stakes at hand.

Frenchie let out a frustrated grunt, his unease bubbling to the surface. "If that ever comes out, (y/n) will hate us all", he muttered.

Butcher's jaw tightened at the thought, his frustration boiling over into anger. "She won't find out", he snapped, his tone harsh and uncompromising. "No one is spilling the beans, understand?".

MM nodded in agreement, his expression solemn as he met Butcher's steely gaze. "We'll keep our mouths shut", he affirmed. "He wasn't good for her, Frenchie. He just used her".

But Frenchie shook his head adamantly, his brow furrowed with disagreement. "I don't think so", he interjected, his voice firm with conviction. "I think he really did love her".

Butcher scoffed at Frenchie's assertion, his skepticism evident in the way he narrowed his eyes. "Love? That's a load of rubbish", he retorted, his tone dismissive. "He's a bloody supe, Frenchie. They don't know the first thing about love".

Frenchie bristled at Butcher's words. "Clearly you didn't see the way he looked at her", he countered. "There was something real there, I'm telling you".

MM glanced between Butcher and Frenchie, a troubled expression crossing his features. "Maybe", he conceded reluctantly. "But even if he did love her, it doesn't change the fact that he's a liability now. We can't afford to have him jeopardize us".

Turning back towards Annie, you couldn't shake the nagging question that had been gnawing at the back of your mind. "But don't you think it's strange he didn't even say goodbye?", you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I mean, we were kinda friends, right?".

Annie raised a skeptical eyebrow, her expression incredulous. "Friends?", she echoed, her tone laced with disbelief. "You're for real, (y/n)?".

You flushed slightly, taken aback by Annie's reaction. "Well, maybe not friends exactly," you admitted sheepishly. "But we… we had something".

Until now, you hadn't told anyone how much had actually happened between you and Ben, even if everyone could already guess.

Annie let out a sigh, her frustration evident as she shook her head. "I don't know what you had with Ben", she replied, her tone softer now. "But whatever it was, it's over now. You deserve better than someone who would just up and leave without a word".

Despite your best efforts to move forward, being back with the team brought a flood of emotions rushing back, intensifying the ache of missing Ben. Every corner of the room seemed to whisper his name, every familiar face a bittersweet reminder of the bond you had shared.

You found yourself lost in memories, replaying moments spent with Ben in your mind like a broken record. His absence felt like a gaping hole in the fabric of your reality, a void that no amount of distraction could fill.

And as you navigated through the days, the longing for Ben weighed heavily on your heart, casting a shadow over even the most joyous moments. Despite the passage of time, the pain of his absence remained raw and unyielding.

And as you struggled to reconcile the past with the present, you couldn't shake the feeling that despite your best efforts, you were still trapped in a cycle of longing and loss.

———————————

A/N: I hope this chapter makes you feel a little better :D There's still so much planned guys, just wait. Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Part 22

-

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy @jackles010378 @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles @sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl @emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444 @seasonofthenerd @staple-your-mouth @artemys-ackles @selfdestructionandrhum @mystic-mara

[another-supernova-girl]

The New Normal ( Part 1 : Alibi ) - Cooper Adams/Abbott x Fem Reader

Based on the following request from an anon : "Even after everything you've done I still love you with all that I am" with cooper adams hehe 💓 This is clearly canon-divergent, but I doubt anyone will mind. I re-worked the prompt quote just a tiny bit, but I'm sure it will still get the point across ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Gif is mine. MY JOSH HARTNETT CHARACTER MASTERLIST CAN BE FOUND HERE.

(( word count : ~ 1,100 ))

Much like any job, being the administrative assistant to the chief of the local fire department had its pros, and cons. Up until recently, said pros had only barely outweighed the cons : a steady paycheck, relatively predictable working hours, and a reliable view of a certain charming, handsome, and unfortunately married firefighter. Ever since the dissolution of that marriage, however, the clerical employee's working environment had become substantially more pleasant.

Her long-standing crush on him hadn't exactly been a secret, and although she had not made any attempt to act on it – the rumor of an affair between herself and Cooper Abbott had begun to swirl as soon as news of his impending divorce had hit the fire station. The theories between the firemen and various staff had of course been false, but even Cooper had begun to actively take notice of her, and her obvious attraction to him. And when he'd asked her out to dinner at the end of a shift one night, weeks after he'd ceased to wear his wedding ring, she'd answered in the affirmative before he'd even managed to finish his invitation. Months had passed since that first night, and they had been an item ever since.

🔪

“I really don't understand why I'm even being questioned,” Cooper stated, irritation in his voice, as he loomed over the police officer interrogating him, arms crossed, shoulder twitching slightly.

“It's protocol, Mr. Abbott. We're questioning everyone that fits the description,” the cop answered. “If you have nothing to hide, answering a few questions shouldn't be a problem,” he explained. “Now, we've spoken to every other fireman of the estimated height range and build, and your own chief confirmed you were unaccounted for on the eighteenth, so we just need to know your whereabouts.”

None of your fucking business, Cooper thought as he felt his eye twitch, glancing around for some sort of diversion. He'd managed to make it out of a marriage of fifteen years without his violent proclivities being detected, and he certainly wasn't about to be discovered now.

“He was with me,” a feminine voice declared, and both the officer and The Butcher glanced in surprise toward the direction of the source. “He was with me,” she repeated, and Cooper's firehouse paramour stepped into view, reaching for his hand when he offered it, his brows knit together in bemusement as he watched her eyes that avoided his own.

“Ma'am, you've already been accounted for, that's not-”

“No, um...we've been...dating, and it's sort of frowned upon with the two of us working together, and all...I was on the clock, and we shouldn't have...we just couldn't help ourselves,” she gave a half-hearted smile, shrugging her shoulders as Cooper's hand abandoned hers, only to find a new home at her waist, his thumb rubbing absently as the stark white blouse she wore. “Cooper just...didn't want me to get in trouble.”

There was silence between the three, the cop, the killer, and the alibi. The officer seemed to be contemplating their story, deciding whether it would better serve him to simply move on to the next possible suspect, when a shout from down the hallway drew all their attention. Cooper glanced down to the young woman beside him as the sound of the fire chief's bellowing voice called out her name, and with the briefest grasp of her hand, his thumb grazing over the inside of her wrist, the unmarred spot that mirrored his tattoo, she slipped from his embrace. “I'm...I'm sorry again, officer,” she called as she exchanged a glance with Cooper, before disappearing from sight.

🔪

Late afternoon eventually drifted into night, the assistant managing to hide away in the filing room and distract herself with paperwork, guiltily thankful when sirens had gone off in the fire station shortly after the confrontation with the investigator, Cooper being pulled away to preform his protective duties. His girlfriend had managed to avoid him the rest of the night, or so she thought, as she clocked out on her computer and gathered her effects, disappearing down the empty hallway that led to the back door of the facility.

“I know you don't think we aren't going to talk about this,” Cooper's voice sounded before she managed to round the last corner, just before the exit, her body visibly shuddering at the sudden rasp of his voice.

“I...I think the words you're looking for are 'thank you',” she stated as she tried to slide past him, reaching for the door handle, Cooper's large hand circling her wrist before she could rotate it.

“Someone's been keeping secrets,” he mumbled as he tugged lightly at her wrist, guiding her further away from her escape, out of the field of vision of the closest security camera.

“I prefer to think of it as playing dumb,” she breathed out as her back finally made contact with a wall, The Butcher cutting off any inkling of an escape between the smooth, painted surface behind her and his imposing frame.

“And how long have you been playing dumb?” Cooper murmured, his empty hand finding her free wrist and capturing it as he had the other, placing them both against the wall.

Silence filled the emptiness surrounding them for several seconds before her voice finally sounded again. “Since you were still happily married,” she admitted, his thumbs ghosting over her pulse points, her heart beat accelerating from more than just the anxiety of standing in the grasp of his physical control. “Maybe I...maybe the 'dumb' part isn't really an act-mmph” Her words stifled in her throat as she felt his plush lips against her trembling mouth. The force she'd half-expected in the aftermath of her confession didn't materialize, his kiss just as sweet and tender as ever, the flit of his tongue teasing her own, punctuated by briefer, though no less appreciated caresses of his skin against her own. “Even after everything you've done, I...,” her words dried up in her throat as she felt him draw away, no more than an inch, his warm breath on her prickling flesh as his face disappeared against her throat, his lips finding more skin to manipulate, “I still...” The Butcher's hand fisted in her hair as her wrists fell from their perch on the wall, slipping between layers of fabric that clung to his body, winding along his back, beneath his heavy jacket.

“Do you love me,” he rasped, more manipulation of a different flavor as he stood up straighter, a hand finding her jaw and tilting her chin until she could look nowhere else but his cold, piercing eyes.

“With all that I am.”

🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪 🔪

((( This has turned into at least a 2-parter , CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 2 )))

tagging : @one-of-thewalkingdead , @gissellec1 , @pinkflowerwombat , @sashimeep , @strangererotica , @the-butchers-baby , @callsign-fangirl , @hibiskooks , @jessy02 , @charliehoennam , @pinastrihaven , @amethystblackkchaos , @bleeding-heartz , @gt-rxn , @simplymurdock

If I forgot anyone, I apologize, and please let me know if you want to be tagged in the next one

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS AND TAGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED.💙

[promotionaldisk]

So, uh- a confession to someone who might understand? (very few do) I'm a lifelong zoo, attracted to most everything non-human, within practical limits of course; strong bond to canines and an aching unrequited attraction to cervines. I've browsed zoo porn for decades, and I came across some deer necrozoo. Not my thing really but got off to it bc deer. Then one night a guy I knew hit a buck and I took his body home to butcher it, which I did after I fucked him raw. That might have been the end of the story, just an experiment, you know?- but his ass was one of best-feeling things I have ever had my cock in, and my cock has been in many unusual places. Since then I have picked up a few others. I'm not into decay and the good bits don't last long (scavengers tend to eat ass and genitals first). I've had a couple that were fresh and some not-so-much, but not terrible yet. I tried some other species just bc they were available and just to see if I could, with mixed results. I've chided myself and lately have stopped "collecting", but I'll still stop for deer I think. Final chapter- I've never been a hunter much. Participated in the activity but never killed anything. But, I got a license last year and went alone; killed a nice buck. He was so beautiful I cried. I felt sorry I had to take his life to be close to him. But, my anguish was eventually overcome by longing to feel his insides with my cock and I fucked him as mercilessly as I had pulled the trigger on him. After a delirious cum, I carefully cleaned his carcass (a weird moment when I removed his colon which I had just cummed in) and butchered him, and eventually entirely consumed him. It's a little weird to think that some of my molecules are made up from ones that were his. He lives on in me in a way. I love what he was, and am thankful for the pleasure and the nourishment he provided me.

what an incredible story!! eating that buck after mercilessly fucking it is maybe the most erotic thing i’ve ever heard. you totes should’ve recorded it, would’ve loved to see it <333

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

To My Friend: Or, a Letter From a Villain

My dearest,

I am sorry. For everything that has passed between us. I am sorry for the fights we have had, for the scabs on our knees and the pranks we have played. I am sorry we did not do more of it. 

I remember we used to sit on that tree. We carved our names on it. It was not romantic. We didn't know what romance was. It didn't matter, even if it was romance. We were just having fun. 

We had a challenge to climb it all the way up to the top. It was the highest tree in the forest, or so your sister told you. I'm sorry that I never did reach that top branch, and even more sorry that I never helped you up there.

I pushed you off once. Your knee was fractured, and you yelled so loudly the weird girl from the next village over came to investigate. She helped me carry you all the way home. Mother and Father yelled at me so afterwards. I remember having to do your chores for weeks afterwards. I am sorry for that. Your tears made my heart ache so badly. I cannot believe you still let me draw on the cast. Did you like the flowers I put on them? I do not know if you could tell, but they were supposed to be lilies. Your favourite.

How are you now? Did you manage to start the shop you always wanted to man? I know you told your mother about it, and she slapped you and said to dream bigger. She told you that you would be great one day. I hope you are not. Greatness really is not what it was cracked up to be.

I am sorry I have not spoken with you. I did not think you would want me to, what with what has happened since. I do not think you would be happy to see me. I am everything I ever wanted to be, and I hate it.

We dreamed as children, did we not? I dreamt of a crown of jewels and a throne of bone, a foolish thing to want for a boy such as I. You dreamt of a quiet butchery at the heart of the village, leaning on the counter and bragging about being the one to provide the Emperor with freshmeats. What kind of whelp dreams of being a butcher, anyways? I am sorry I did not mock you for it.

How silly we were there, little kids playing a wild game of pretend. How different we were. How foolish.

I do not eat freshmeats from a butcher. No, I feast of flesh right from the bone. It tastes fresher, sharper, like the memory of you carving into my heart. Do you like carvings, still? You used to make the most adorable birds out of called branches. I would scour the forest after a storm and bring the best pieces just for you.

I would give you all the branches in the world to have you by my side. You could be my lady, my advisor, my butcher. Whatever position you want, my friend, you could have it. Just come back. Please. I am sorry for what I have become, for the monster I see in the mirror.

That tree we used to sit on is fallen now. I had it cut down after I took the throne. I am sorry for that, too. Nonetheless, it sits in my trophy room now. We could sit on it together again. I could have servants push the both of us up onto its topmost branches.

What do you say, my friend? Will you come back to me? Will you accept my apology, and renew what cruel fate tore apart? Will you be my friend again?

Remember: I know where you live. And I can bring you back to me, whether you like it or not.

Taglist: @coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

@tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn, @ramwritblr

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west, @differentnighttale

@evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms, @xenascribbles

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable, @paeliae-occasionally, @an-indecisive-nerd, @thecomfywriter

@seastarblue, @wyked-ao3

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[thebiggerbear]

A Little Future Snippet - Call My Name

A/N: Guys, I am so sorry. Chapter 1 will be posted soon, I promise. I'm shooting for the next couple of weeks. I'm just tweaking the ending scene a little because the way I originally had it...it just wasn't jiving. In the meantime, I wanted to give you guys a little something at least. I took out any specific spoilers. Here's a small snippet of an upcoming scene in the story.

All unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: violence/choking; a little manipulation; language

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Series Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl; @deangirl96; @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @ej13928; @demodemo909

@manyfanfiction

SB Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

@muhahaha303; @just-levyy

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

“Well, sweetheart, anytime you want to put your tits and ass on display for Vought, give them a call, huh?” The Legend mocked you.

Your jaw tightened and you crossed your arms, fully expecting his smartassery, but Ben’s reaction was what surprised you.

Within seconds, his hand was around The Legend’s throat and he had lifted the man off of his feet, bringing him closer to Ben’s menacing glare. “You don’t talk to her like that,” he threatened in a growl. “Ever. You show her respect or I’ll get real fucking creative with what I do to you.”

“Okay, okay,” The Legend choked out. “Respect. Got it.” He clawed at Ben’s hand but the latter glanced over at you, waiting. You knew you could signal to him to let the man go, but instead you maintained your expression and stayed silent. MM and Butcher exchanged a glance and Hughie turned wide eyes from the scene onto you. 

The Legend was turning purple but still, you didn’t indicate for Ben to let up. 

“Let him go,” Hughie rushed out. Ben’s eyes snapped over to him, his hand squeezing the old man’s throat that little bit harder. 

“SB…please,” Legend sputtered as he tried to loosen Ben’s grip but was unable to.

“Fucking put him down already, you made your point!” Hughie insisted.

Butcher held a hand out to Hughie, giving the younger man a shake of his head. He clearly wanted to see how this played out. MM flicked his glare over to you but you ignored it.

“Y/N!” Hughie begged. “He’s about to fucking die, do something!”

Hearing the distress in Hughie’s voice, your gaze briefly flickered over to him and then back to Ben whose eyes were still laser focused on you. It was obvious The Legend was definitely about to lose consciousness and at his age, probably die from lack of oxygen. Not that you cared — as far as you were concerned he was still a piece of Vought and every single piece of that company could go fuck itself. But you still had a plan you needed to follow.

“We need him,” you told Ben quietly.

There was a flash in Ben’s eyes but he released his grip by relaxing his fingers, and the old man fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. Ben slowly walked over to you as Hughie scrambled over to The Legend with Butcher at his back, sharply eyeing the Supe, waiting for him to try anything. Ben could flatten them both within seconds, but that didn’t stop Butcher from being ready to fucking go should the former decide they were worth his time. You had to admire that, really.

Ben made his way next to you, turning to watch the scene of Hughie and MM hoisting The Legend up so he could gasp for breath more easily. You felt his thumb discreetly rubbing tender strokes into the small of your back through your suit.

The Legend coughed and sputtered still, his wide bloodshot eyes on both of you. He gave Ben a semblance of an understanding nod and rasped to you, “Apologies.” 

Giving him a curt nod yourself, you watched as MM and Hughie got the man to his feet and ushered him out of the room. Butcher followed but kept a wary eye on both of you as he did, scowling until he disappeared past the doorway.

Ben wrapped an arm around your waist, slipping a hand to your hip, and pulled you gently into him. He pressed his lips to the side of your head and let them linger there. His thumb began its reassuring strokes again, this time on your side.

After a minute or so of silence, he murmured to you, “You okay?”

You nodded, still staring off into the distance.

You felt him nosing in between the strands of your hair, nuzzling your ear. “I wanted to kill him.”

“But you didn’t,” you reminded him, carefully laying your head against his chest. His heartbeat picked up slightly so you weren’t that surprised when his other arm came up to wrap around you, holding you closer to him. You felt him lay his chin against the top of your head and then relax a bit.

“Only because you stopped me,” he admitted, sounding slightly disappointed. Disappointed that he hadn't killed the old man or that he had indeed stopped, you couldn't be sure, but you let him continue holding you nonetheless.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[doofnoof]

I'm so sorry y'all. THIS 👇

👆 Is what Buggy usually looks like.

THIS 👇

is an Abomination.

tumblr. hey. hey. what the fuck is this

[cairavende]

Worm Arc 21 thoughts:

Well that was sure a turn around from last arc's "I'm going to rally the students so I don't get captured."

I know my daughter has made some . . . mistakes, but I'm not a fan of her turning herself into the openly corrupted and also bad at their job parahuman cops.

(Parahuman cops as in "cops who police parahumans" not "cops who are parahumans")

Like look, I get it. A precog told her to cut ties. I can't say it's wrong to follow that advice. But she could do that in a lot of ways that don't involve the PRT.

The second not from Dinah just being "I'm sorry" is brutal.

But before she can turn herself in she has to absolutely fucking crush the PRT/Protectorate for outing her civilian identity.

I love how fucking simple taking out the entire PRT headquarters was for Skitter and her girlfriends!

Who needs anyone else? Bitch brings muscle, Tattletale brings information, Skitter brings battlefield control. Lesbian polycule power activate!

Was it an overboard response? Maybe. Was it badass how she just took out so many heroes and PRT troops with ease? Yes.

Poor Dovetail has one of the most embarrassing introductions ever. First time we see her and Skitter is wiping the floor with her and thinking about her "crummy power".

God I hate Tagg so much that he makes me miss Piggot. Like she was absolutely terrible, but he's worse! And making me miss Piggot makes me hate Tagg even more!

Kindly old cemetery groundskeeper who doesn't pay much attention to the news! Never a bad trope.

They gave Butcher 15 to Cherish???!? Like sure they give all the reasoning for it but like ... it just seems like a really high risk situation. If she ever gets out it's going to suck. A lot.

THE SCENE AT RACHEL'S PLACE OH MY GOD!

SHE IS BUILDING A COMMUNITY! I LOVE HER SO MUCH!

Rachel just over here finding everyone like her and giving them a place. Legit crying. Look at that fucking growth!

(Also shout-out to my wife for having basically done the same thing. It's how I met her. It's how I met one of my girlfriends. And so many other important people. So ya. I fucking love this.)

Also you ever like a girl so much you try to give her an entire planet? Cause Taylor sure has.

"Rachel I don't want you to be sad when I'm gone so you can basically have this whole other planet we found."

GGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!

Imp let Regent take control of her . . . welp. Like, I'm not really surprised by this. And in a different situation I wouldn't even really find it that weird. I'd do it with the right person. But combination of age and the situation they are in and Regent being Regent annnnnd ya. Welp.

I did love how much of the interactions between Skitter and Regent/Imp really was just her struggling with parenting two teenage supervillains.

IT'S NOT SO EASY, IS IT CHILD?!? MAYBE YOU'LL CUT ME SOME SLACK AND LISTEN TO MY ADVICE IN THE FUTURE!

(She won't)

I fucking LOVE that she made the bible themed hero kneel. Absolutely fucking amazing.

Oh shiiit, Skitter just flat dropped that guy multiple stories. Is she going to far?

. . . wellll, these guys do literally worship the Endbringers so I guess a little aggression is ok.

Damn, Valefor sure has some fucked up powers, I wonder what they're gonna do abou-

. . .

. . .

. . . . . .

. . . wellll, these guys do literally worship the Endbringers so I guess a little aggression is ok.

. . .

Yep.

. . .

. . . I think I preferred when she just used a knife.

So anyway

Not a fan of Taylor having more alone time with Brian (not because I have any issue with the idea, but because I think she needs to be focusing on her girlfriends), but I am a fan of her using bugs to clean her dress and fix her hair afterwords while Brian just kinda sits there and has to contemplate what he has gotten himself into. Queen shit.

Flechette was SO mad that Parian wasn't "cute" anymore, I couldn't stop laughing. Sure, she said "You had to take the playfulness away? The joy?" but we all know what she meant. Of course, it's won't take very long for the new costume to get Flechette's attention. (I have to mention that this is basically exactly what I said when reading the scene, and the interlude a few chapters later just proved me right.)

Flechette is just so hopelessly gay

Miss Militia is actually getting very mild respect from me right now. Like, she's still working for the cops but she is actually agreeing to silently push against some things. Now, she says she doesn't have more power then that but she is a very well known hero and if she would publicly speak out about certain things there is a decent chance she could do more. That would of course be putting her position at risk though. Which is why she only gets very mild respect right now.

OH MY GOD I DIDN'T JUST GET TO SEE TATTLETALE'S MURDER WALL, I GOT TO SEE HER ENTIRE MURDER ROOM!

Fucking multiple bulletin boards with threads connecting them. Everything color coded. Reference numbers to files with more details. Multiple TV screens, computer with constant information dump. God. It's like a literal representation of the inside of my mind while I read Worm. SO MANY THINGS TO FIGURE OUT!

I love a lot of characters, but Tattletale always stays near the top. She gets me.

And from the fucking joy of getting to see that setup I come crashing the fuck down.

Like, I have completely figured out at this point that Skitter is turning herself in. I know what is coming. She's had her moment with everyone else and Tattletale is the last one.

And then. Then just . .

No goodbyes.

😭😭😭😭😭

HOW DARE THIS BOOK MAKE ME FEEL MY OWN FEELINGS!! I'M TOO GAY FOR THIS!

I do find it hysterical that the PRT officers working the front lobby don't all recognize Skitter on sight. Fucking gas station employees will manage to keep track of people with pictures on the "bad check" board, you'd think the PRT could manage to have their officers keep track of the face of one of the most well know villains in the country, if not the world, who also controls their city. PRT is forever bad at their job.

That one guy did notice her eventually though, so I guess he gets to be employee of the month.

The Number Man interlude thoughts:

The inside of this mans mind is one of the sexiest things I have ever seen and the constant reminder of the horrible things he is helping Cauldron do to all their prisoners was very helpful because it was the only thing keeping me from deciding that The Number Man is a perfect soul that can do no wrong.

I have no illusions here. I am weak. This man is a monster and I should not have any trouble remembering that.

But fuck shit fuck oh god fuck I don't even need him to touch me. I just need him to TALK to me. I just need him to get high with me and let me pick apart how his mind works!

He understood numbers, and through them, he understood everything.

That line. Absolute killer. Fucking take me.

. . . anyway yes it's a very interesting interlude!

Loved seeing more of the inner workings of Cauldron

I very much want to see the final level of their basement that only the Doctor goes into because I said that I thought Cauldron had a dead (for values of dead that are non-definable) higher dimensional being in their basement back during arc 15 and now I know for sure that there is something down there. I wanna know if I was right!

Oh my god he was friends with Jack

"Friends"

Look I make everything gay ok? It's not my choice! Sure it means I get to enjoy every tiny bit of Wolfspider and Chatterbug cause I see all of it. But it also means I see the ships I don't want to think about!

I men what was I supposed to think when Jack said “We can live this. Together. Every waking second…”?

Gay

Parian interlude thoughts:

And speaking of gay!

Fucking Flechette just full blown "Fuck all of this I want you to tell me what to do for the rest of my life!"

Full U-Haul lesbian.

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

This is Parian's new costume having an effect.

Just so gay. I love it.

Also Bitch just so fucking ready to break Skitter out. So fucking gay.

And the incredible loyalty, which is gonna hurt if she ends up feeling betrayed by Skitter.

Still gay though.

Tattletale, basically without powers, just completely giving Accord the "fuck off, we're in charge" was amazing. All she had to do was promise to consider his binders and he was all in. This poor man just wants somebody to read his ideas! He's like a aspiring screenwriter just begging people to read his script.

[coochiequeens]

Another sex offender TIM released into the public.........and given a laptop

Daughter's fury as paedophile father who abused and shared images of her with other sick perverts online before changing gender in prison is quietly released (...and given a laptop by an offender's charity)

By ROSS SLATER

PUBLISHED: 10:47 EDT, 16 July 2023 | UPDATED: 10:49 EDT, 16 July 2023

A paedophile who changed gender while in prison for sexually abusing her own daughter as a child and sending explicit photos of her to perverts online has been quietly released back into the community - and given a laptop by a do-gooding charity.

Claire Fox, 61, who was previously known as Clive Bundy, a father of six, served just seven years of a 15-year jail sentence, before being settled into a tiny market town on the Welsh borders.

Fox, who wears a black wig and floral dresses told neighbours, who knew nothing of her sordid past, that she was an electrician from Bangor as they helped her get settled into her new surroundings and helped her furnish her flat.

Fox's release from prison has appalled her daughter Ceri-Lee Galvin, who bravely waived her right to anonymity, having been abused by her father for nine years from the age of eight.

Revealing her astonishment, Ceri-Lee, 24, told MailOnline: 'My father is not a woman and I refuse to recognise him as such. He changed his gender in prison to make his life there easier.

But now he is out and already up to his usual tricks – conning everyone he meets. 

'The fact he is now dressed as a woman makes him more dangerous as young girls are his thing and he has never shown any remorse.

'My father is a highly manipulative man who has attended no sexual offender rehabilitation programmes, shown no remorse for what he has done and openly admits finding children attractive.

'There have been no meetings I'm aware of to tell local schools about his presence, he has no tag and no curfew. He has just been put into this community and given all he could wish for – food, furniture, a home and a laptop.'

Ceri-Lee, now a student paramedic, added: 'I am in no way transphobic and I feel incredibly sorry for people who genuinely need to transition. They face stigma and worse because of cases like this.

'But it should just not be an option for those convicted of sexual offences against children to suddenly say that they want to be a woman.

'This only arose at the end of 2021 when he was due to be moved to an open prison but then had a fight with a fellow prisoner that was serious enough to stop the move.

'That is when he went for the gender change – when he was almost 60, having been a macho man all his life and having had eight children and having never mentioned gender dysphoria before.

'Now he is being indulged by everyone. The prison service gave him make-up and women's clothes and now a charity for the armed forces have provided him with so much stuff when all he did was a short stint in the Territorial Army in his 20s.

He has conned them. He was never a soldier. The whole thing is outrageous.'

Fox arrived in a sheltered accommodation block for older people in a tiny town at the start of June.

She was given new furniture, a television, printer, washing machine, crockery and a laptop by the armed forces charity SSAFA because she had once been in the Territorial Army.

Fox's neighbour Lyn Robinson, 74, said: 'My first impression was that this person was very cheerful and amenable, assuring all us older people that they'd be no trouble. They seemed very confident despite the outlandish appearance.

'I thought she might find it difficult fitting in so I really took care of her. I gave her clothes and even lent her £70, which is a lot for a pensioner.

'I took her to the food bank at the Baptist Church where she was given loads of stuff including vouchers for a butcher in town and for a coffee shop.

'And we went to a concert at St Edward's Church where I introduced her to the vicar. I had no idea of her history.

Fox's decision to change gender before being released from prison, provoked a storm of protest when it was revealed in April.

She chose the same name as gender-critical campaigner and media pundit Claire Fox, now sitting in the House of Lords as Baroness Fox of Buckley.

Campaign groups fear that by changing their gender, sex offenders can effectively whitewash their past and could avoid detection under the Home Office's Disclosure and Barring Service, set up to protect children from abusers.

DBS uses official paperwork such as a passport or driving licence to carry out their checks, both of which can prove difficult to check after choosing a new name and gender.

The potential loophole is provided by the Gender Recognition Act (2004), which created a 'sensitive applications route' for trans people.

Ceri-Lee added: 'The victim liaison officer told me the only reason I was being informed about the name and gender change was because he had given permission for this to happen.

'It's allowing him to say that Clive Bundy never existed, that my abuse never existed and it is clearly a danger to children which is why I decided to speak out.' 

Fox is not the first sex offender to change gender while in prison

A rapist who carried out sexual attacks as a man named Adam Graham in 2016 and 2019 sparked a heated debate earlier this year after changing gender and name to Isla Bryson while waiting to stand trial at the High Court in Glasgow.

And in 2018, convicted rapist 'Karen White' – branded a 'highly manipulative' predator by a judge – was moved to HMP New Hall in Wakefield, West Yorkshire, and sexually assaulted two women inmates.

Fox was arrested after police discovered images of Ceri-Lee online that the abuser had been trading with other pedophiles.

She was later charged with and admitted to several counts of sexual activity with Ceri-Lee, inciting a child to engage in sexual activity and distributing indecent images.

In 2016 she was sentenced to 15 years in prison. It was not until the end of 2021 that she told the authorities she wanted to change gender.

A SSAFA spokesperson, said: 'SSAFA, the Armed Forces charity provides practical, emotional and financial assistance to serving personnel, reservists, veterans and their families in their time of need. Due to data protection laws and our need to protect our beneficiaries' and employees' confidentiality, we cannot comment on individuals or their circumstances.'

A spokesperson for Dyfed-Powys Police said: 'In line with national guidelines we can neither confirm nor deny the information you have provided.

'However, we can confirm that Multi Agency Public Protection Arrangements are utilised throughout the entire force area to manage appropriate offenders living in the community and they will be closely supervised by local officers to minimise any risk.'

[tomssexdoll]

HIII!!! can I request an angst where the reader and the band were at a club and Tom is just flirting with this girl ( like touching her and eyeing her ) and the reader gets so mad and punches the girl and it causes a whole argument between Tom and the reader and it ends with smut 😏😏. HAVE AN AMAZING DAY !!

yess lovely!

Makeup sex

PAIRINGS: Tom 2008 x Female reader CONTENT: ANGST + FLUFF + SMUT + FLUFF SYPNOSIS: The band and Y/N decide to go to the club to celebrate their recent album launch, before leaving Y/N and Tom have a massive fight, causing a lot of tension. He has been jealous of her male friends and won't stop causing problems, y/n then catches him flirting with another girl and she is livid, she starts a fight with the girl, Tom gets pissed and on the way home they have another argument, then Tom makes it up to her with makeup sex, reassuring her and talking things out A/N: WHY DO U GUYS LOVE BEING CHEATED ON DAMN, jk ty for the req ily, sorry if this isn't as you expected I felt like it needed to have makeup sex and apologsing, etc. <33 WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary), slight teasing

Me, my boyfriend Tom and the rest of his band went to a club to celebrate their recent album launch. We had a massive fight beforehand, he was getting really posessive and wanted me to stop hanging out with my guy friends, I got mad and started to yell at him, causing us to be 20 minutes late to the club.

I was walking in with Tom, his eyes already fucking darting at all the women in short skirts and tight dresses, I grunted and nudged him "look at me not them, I'm your girlfriend not a fuck toy" I let go of his hand and walked off, super pissed.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes and disappearing in the crowd. I turned to Bill, "i'm so sick of his shit, I am so close to breaking it off with him" I sighed, he frowned and put his hand on my thigh "I know, he can be stubborn huh?" I nodded and hugged Bill "i just want him to realise how I feel, it's always about him" I winced, Bill rubbed my back reassuringly "cmon, let's have fun" Bill grabbed my hand and led me to the bar, ordering some shots and cocktails to loosen ourselves up.

Later in the night I went on the dancefloor and saw Tom eyeing up this blonde bitch, twirling her hair with his fingers and tracing her curves teasingly, my breathing hitched and tears pricked my eyes. "Motherfucker.." I grunted, my chest heaving up and down.

I was filled with rage, storming over and pushing him "what the fuck?" he stumbled back, surprised at my presence "uh..i.." "shut up!" I yelled, the girl nudged me slightly "who the fuck are you?" she narrowed her eyes at me "im his girlfriend you stupid slut!", she gasped, looking offended "well, obviously he wants me more", that comment hit me deep, I screamed and punched her in the face, busting her lip and butchering her nose.

"Woah! Hey hey hey!" Tom yelled and grabbed me, preventing me from hitting her any further, dragging me away. I screamed and kicked, trying to be let free, "get the fuck off me Tom! I fucking hate you!" I cried out, he talked with the guys briefly and shoved me in the car, ignoring my cries.

"What the fuck was that? Why did you punch her?", he grabbed my wrist, I scoffed "why? Tom are you deaf or something? You couldn't even stand up for me, you are a fucking coward!" I yelled at him, pulling my hand away and getting out of the car, walking into the street. I wrapped my arms around my torso, a million emotions fluctuating through out my body.

I heard Toms heavy footsteps behind me, "wait! Come back!" he screamed after me, grabbing me by my waist and turning me around to face him, holding me close to him and forcing me to look at him. "Don't fucking walk off" he growled lowly, I rolled my eyes "fuck you Tom, let me go" I tried to pull away but his grip was too strong, "we are going home, don't fight because you know you won't win" he mumbled, shoving me back into the car and locking the doors, speeding off back home.

We argued heavily as we drove home, still arguing when getting into the house. "I'm so sick of this shit! You make me feel crazy for having valid emotions!" I screamed at him, he crossed his arms "you're so fucking dramatic, I didn't do anything with her" I sighed in frustration and held my head, trying to process what he just said.

"You are the shittiest fucking boyfriend ever, you're pathetic!" I yelled at him, throwing the necklace he gave me for our anniversary at him.

"Whatever.." he mumbled, storming into our bedroom and slamming the door, causing the floor to vibrate heavily. I grabbed my phone and called Bill, ranting to him about Tom.

"I think I have to break up with him, I am so sick of his shitty behaviour" I cried, tears streaming down my cheeks, my body trembling from all the anger.

"Y/N, just have a normal talk with him, you guys always argue" he sighed "I try to Bill trust me, but he always twists my words and makes it like it's my fault and then I get mad and yell at him" "I know..he really needs to step up his game, he is going to lose you any day now."

I cried out a little too loudly "I miss when he was a good boyfriend, I don't know what happened."

Tom stepped out of the room upon hearing this, his heart breaking slightly, realising his shitty actions towards her, "fuck.." he mumbled and walked towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around, Toms soft expression meeting mine, I glared and told Bill I had to go. I hung up and Tom came around, sitting beside me and rubbing my thigh softly.

"I'm sorry baby..I didn't realise how much I was affecting you" he frowned, I scoffed "oh really? the crying, multiple nights not sleeping together and constant arguments didn't give you a fucking hint?" I pushed his hand off me "don't fucking touch me, filthy fucking pig" I mumbled, moving away from him.

"Please baby..I'm really sorry" he cried out, trying to pull me closer to him, I sighed and looked back at him "no..it's too late" I got up and walked off, going into our guest room and deciding to sleep there.

I had to figure out what to do, I couldn't be in such a miserable relationship anymore. I grabbed some clothes I had in there from the other times I had to sleep in here, putting them on and slipping into bed. I heard a faint knock at the door "baby..let me in..I'm so sorry" he winced, I yelled back "fuck off! leave me alone!", he sighed and walked back to our bedroom.

I woke up to the bed dipping slightly and familiar, comforting arms wrapping around my waist. "Baby..i'll do anything to make it up to you, I can't lose you, I love you so much" he kissed my neck lovingly, I caved in and turned around, whispering in his ear "turn the lamp on" he obliged and turned it on, illuminating his face, eyes red and puffy from crying so much.

I sighed "you know I love you, but you need to change or else I have no choice..we always fight and then have rough sex which leads to nothing being solved and the arguments to keep on going, I'm sick of it" he nodded "I know..i'll change i swear.." he pushed my head into his chest softly and stroked my hair.

"How about I make it up to you..i'll be gentle baby..appreciate you" he smiled softly, I looked up and nodded, laying back on the bed. Tom slowly crawled towards me, taking my shirt off gently and kissing my lips, down to my neck, then to my chest, both of my arms and down to my stomach, appreciating every little feature I had. "So beautiful liebe.." he wasn't being rough, passionate or lustful, rather gentle and sweet. Little did he know, I loved this side of him.

He pulled my shorts down softly, kissing me as he did it, "I love you baby, i'm not gonna allow us to fight like we do again, I want to love and hold you forever" he smiled softly, tears pricked my eyes and I nodded, "oh baby..don't cry.." he frowned, wiping a tear away as it fell.

I pushed my lips into his again, softly locking our lips into a sweet embrace. He slid his hand into my panties, softly rubbing my clit. I moaned into his mouth and bucked my hips "please...don't tease.." I whined, he chuckled softly and climbed up more, taking his sweatpants off and taking out his cock.

Before he could do anything I put my hand on his chest, "please be gentle.." looking up at him, he nodded and kissed my cheek "I promise baby", with that he slowly pushed his cock into my heat, bottoming himself out.

I held onto him as he started to thrust in slowly, his tip brushing against my g spot graciously, I moaned softly, his hands brushing small hairs away from my face "so so beautiful" "mein schönes mädchen", he whispered sweet nothings into my ear, making me feel loved.

His cock slid in and out of me so perfectly, like his cock was made for my pussy. He started to pick the pace up a little, thrusting faster. I moaned and bit down onto his shoulder "fuck.." he groaned, holding my hips tightly.

I caught his lips in a kiss again, it deepened, becoming more urgent. He looked down at me, his eyes full of love and desire. I felt so connected to him, like I was melting into him.

He started to move faster, thrusting a little bit harder but not too hard, the perfect pace, his hand coming up and squeezing my breast lightly, "you're perfect..so perfect" he whispered in my ear lovingly.

"G'nna cum.." I whimpered softly, a knot forming in my stomach and trailing down to my core. "Cmon baby..cum f'me" he groaned lowly, sweat beads forming on his forehead. The sight in front of me was so hot, Tom thrusting in and out, sweaty and his toned body, it made me so wet oh my god.

I moaned loudly, my thighs shuddering as I came on his cock, his orgasm followed shortly after, shooting his thick cum into my hole, painting my insides white. He collapsed forward, catching his breath, tucking loose hairs behind my ear.

After a while he finally spoke up, "i'm sorry for treating you so badly schatz, I honestly don't even have an excuse for my behaviour, I was just stupid and a big asshole" he sighed, kissing my chin softly, I smiled softly "yeah you were a big asshole, but I'm happy you're apologising, it means a lot" I continued "I hate when we have rough sex after an argument and it solves nothing, I want to be happy again like we were at the start" he nodded and held my hips, flipping us over so that I was on top of his chest, "I know baby, I'll actually communicate with you this time I swear, I will be a better man for you" he caressed me, tracing my curves just like he did with the other girl "did you actually like the girl you were flirting with" I said quietly, still obviously upset by it.

"No way baby, I just did it to piss you off, I don't know why but I was just being an idiot and you know I'd never actually hook up with her, you are my girl forever" he looked deeply in my eyes, I trusted him, usually when he lied he'd always look away but now this man can't break eye contact.

"I love you so much Tom, please keep to your word, I don't want to lose you" I frowned, he kissed me softly and played with my hair "I'll change for you, don't worry, i'll do anything" I smiled brightly and held onto him tightly.

E/N: HEYYYY GUYS