#It keeps me from having the time or energy to put in to the things I actually care about

[lila-lou]

✨Fucking Brats - 1/3✨

Summary: You and Ben have two teenage daughters, and lately, they’ve been nothing short of awful. With Ben away on missions, you've been taking the heat. But when he finally steps back through that door and sees how they’ve been treating you? Hell breaks loose. Because no one—not even his own brats—messes with his girl.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, ANGST

Word Count: 7305

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

Fourteen years of being a mother, fourteen years of giving everything—your time, your patience, your love. Fourteen years of putting them first, sacrificing everything for them. And yet, here you were, standing in the middle of the wreckage of what used to be your kitchen, your hands shaking, your breath uneven, and your heart pounding with something dangerously close to pure, undiluted rage.

The fight had started over something small—something so insignificant you couldn’t even remember what it was now. But, like always, it had escalated.

Ava and Liv, your beautiful, powerful, stubborn twin daughters, had once again turned your home into a battlefield.

Liv stood on one side, chest heaving, her eyes burning with frustration, while Ava stood on the other, her hands clenched into fists. The tension between them was suffocating. You could see the crackle of their powers vibrating in the air, warping the space between them.

“Enough”, you said, your voice firm but tired. But they ignored you. Of course, they did.

“You’re such a bitch, Liv!”, Ava spat, her powers flaring around her fingertips. “No wonder Dad favors me over you”.

Liv let out a bitter laugh, the kind that made your stomach twist. “Oh, please. You’re delusional. Dad doesn’t favor either of us—he barely even gives a shit! But sure, keep telling yourself that while you ride his coattails like a pathetic little sidekick”.

Your head throbbed. “Enough”, you said again, louder this time, stepping between them.

Liv scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Stay out of it, Mom”.

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

The sound of shattering glass rang through the kitchen as sharp fragments rained down beside you, some skidding across the floor, others embedding themselves into the walls. Your breath caught in your throat. Liv hadn’t even hesitated.

You turned your head slowly, staring at the splintered remains of the glass that had been inches from your face. If you had moved just a second slower, it would have cut you. Maybe even blinded you. And she didn’t care.

Rage and heartbreak coiled inside you like a living thing, suffocating, burning. “You—”. The words died on your tongue as Ava lunged at her sister again, fists crackling with power. Liv met her head-on. The force of their clash sent a shockwave through the room, knocking chairs over, rattling the cabinets, and making the lights flicker. The air between them warped from the sheer energy radiating off their bodies. They were really going at it now—no longer just screaming at each other, but attacking, their hits meant to hurt.

You staggered back, your heart slamming against your ribs. This wasn’t just sibling rivalry anymore. They were out for blood.

“STOP IT!”. Your voice broke as you stepped forward, but neither of them even glanced your way. They were lost in their rage, their need to dominate, to win.

Ava caught Liv with a blast of energy, sending her skidding across the floor, crashing into the island. The impact cracked the wood, but Liv was already back on her feet, her lip curled, a red streak across her cheek from the fall. “You wish you were better than me”, she sneered, and with a flick of her wrist, the entire fridge ripped from its place, hurtling toward Ava. Ava dodged at the last second, the massive appliance slamming into the wall instead, leaving a gaping hole where it had once been. You let out a strangled sound, hands flying to your mouth.

This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t your home anymore. It was a warzone.

“Enough!”. You screamed, desperation lacing your voice as you tried again, but your words meant nothing. You were nothing in this moment—just a human caught in the crossfire of two beings who didn’t seem to care anymore. Tears burned in your eyes. You had spent everything—your youth, your dreams, your sanity—raising them, loving them, protecting them. And this was what was left.

A sob caught in your throat. Ben wasn’t here. He was never here when things got bad.

Ava’s hand was wrapped around Liv’s throat as she slammed her down onto the cold, cracked tile. The impact sent a deep tremor through the floor, rattling what little was left of your already-destroyed kitchen.

For a moment, there was only silence—harsh breathing, the hum of their residual energy still crackling in the air. And then, Ava turned her head. Her furious, glowing eyes locked onto yours, but the second she registered the tears streaming down your face, the way your hands trembled at your sides, something in her expression shifted. The fight drained out of her, like she was only just realizing you’d been there the entire time.

Her fingers loosened around her sister’s throat. “Mom…”, she breathed, like she didn’t know what to say. Like she wasn’t sure how to fix what she’d already shattered.

But Liv wasn’t done.

With a sharp cough, she shoved Ava off her, rolling onto her side as she propped herself up on her elbow. A deep, ugly bruise was already forming along her collarbone, but instead of anger, all she had for you was disdain.

A smirk curled at the corner of her split lip, and she let out a breathless, humorless laugh. “God, you’re so fucking weak”, she spat, shaking her head. “It’s pathetic”.

The words hit you harder than any attack she could’ve thrown. Weak. Pathetic. From your own daughter’s mouth. You swallowed hard, every inch of your body shaking with the effort of holding yourself together. She wasn’t just saying it to hurt you—she meant it. She meant every single word. You could see it in her face, in the way she looked at you, like you were nothing. Something inside you shattered.

Fourteen years. Fourteen years of late nights, of scraped knees and lullabies, of holding them when they were sick, of staying up with them when they had nightmares. Of fighting for them. Of loving them with every part of your soul. And yet here you were. Nothing but a weak, pathetic human to them.

You pressed your lips together, forcing down the lump in your throat. Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked out of the kitchen. Not because you were backing down, but because, for the first time, you didn’t have anything left to give.

Your hands were shaking as you snatched your car keys off the counter, barely able to breathe through the overwhelming wave of exhaustion and heartbreak crushing your chest. You couldn’t do this anymore—not right now. Let them burn the house down for all you cared. Let them fight until there was nothing left. You just needed to go.

With your pulse pounding in your ears, you stormed through the front door and onto the porch, the cool evening air hitting your tear-streaked face like a slap. You didn’t even know where you were going—maybe you’d just drive until the exhaustion swallowed you whole.

But the second your foot hit the driveway, you stopped dead.

Ben stood there.

His broad frame was backlit by the headlights of an idling SUV, his uniform torn and caked in blood and dirt. His knuckles were still bruised, his jaw clenched, his hair a mess of sweat and filth. He looked like he’d just crawled his way out of hell.

He wasn’t supposed to be back for another week. And yet, here he was. And you couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

His tired green eyes flicked over you, taking in your red-rimmed eyes, your trembling fingers clutching the car keys so tightly your knuckles were white. His gaze snapped up to the house behind you, where the faint sounds of destruction and arguing still echoed from inside.

And just like that, his expression darkened.

“The fuck is going on?”. His voice was low, gruff, edged with exhaustion but laced with something far more dangerous.

"Nothing", you mumbled, heading further towards the car.

Ben moved before you could, a firm, gloved hand wrapping around your wrist before you could make it to the car. His grip wasn’t tight—not enough to hurt—but enough to stop you dead in your tracks. “The fuck it’s nothing”, he muttered, voice rough, edged with something unreadable.

You swallowed hard, still facing away from him. You didn’t have it in you to fight him, not after everything. Not when you were already holding yourself together by a thread. “Ben”, you whispered, voice hoarse. “Please. Just let me go”.

His grip tightened just slightly, a breath passing through his nose, controlled, measured. “Not happening”.

You squeezed your eyes shut, another wave of exhaustion crashing over you. You didn’t want to do this. Not now. Not with him. But Ben had never been one to just let you go.

You felt it before you saw it. The heat of his body as he stepped closer, his presence grounding, suffocating in the way it always was. It wasn’t just his strength keeping you in place, it was him. He had always been the immovable force in your life, the one thing that had anchored you in ways you weren’t sure he even understood. Especially after the pregnancy, when you had almost died.

Carrying half-supe twins had taken everything out of you, and he had been there through all of it. Through the hospital visits, through the months of uncertainty, through the moment you nearly bled out on that table.

For a man who barely let himself care about anything, he had never quite recovered from the fear of losing you.

And now, standing here, with you trying to walk away from him? Not a fucking chance.

Ben exhaled sharply, his free hand coming up to brush against your shoulder, an almost hesitant touch. “Talk to me, baby”, he said, quieter this time. “What the hell happened?”.

Your throat tightened, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak. You just stood there, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on you. “I can’t do this anymore”, you finally choked out. “They don’t listen to me. They don’t care. They don’t—”. Your voice broke, and you sucked in a sharp breath, willing yourself not to completely fall apart in the driveway.

Ben went rigid behind you. “What did they do?”, he asked, and his voice had changed. Dangerous. Low.

You shook your head, because you weren’t sure you could even say it out loud. But Ben wasn’t stupid. His hand slowly trailed down your arm, down to where your fingers were still trembling, and something in his expression darkened even more.

Then, without another word, he let go of you and turned on his heel, striding straight toward the house.

“Ben”, you called after him, alarm creeping into your voice. But he didn’t stop. Didn’t even hesitate.

You hurried after him, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You knew what Ben was like when he was mad, when he was really mad. And right now, the storm raging off of him was something terrifying.

"Ben, wait—". Your voice was hoarse, but he didn’t stop.

The second he stepped into the kitchen, his whole body went stiff. You saw it happen. The way his fists clenched at his sides, the way his shoulders tensed, the way his breathing slowed, controlled but lethal. And then, you saw his eyes. They flickered over the wreckage. Shattered glass, cracked countertops, the gaping hole where the fridge had once been. Over Ava and Liv, who were still breathing hard, still radiating energy, both of them bruised and scratched from their fight.

And when his gaze finally landed on you, on your tear-streaked face, your trembling frame, the way you were still struggling to breathe, his entire expression darkened into something lethal.

Neither of your daughters had noticed him yet, too caught up in their own battle. Liv was still smirking like she had won something, like she hadn’t just shattered every ounce of patience you had left. “You gonna cry again, Mom?”, she sneered. “Man, you’re pathetic”.

Before you could even react, before the words could even settle in your chest, Ben moved. He was on her in an instant. Liv barely had time to register the shift before his large hand was gripping the back of her neck, forcing her forward, slamming her against the already-damaged kitchen island. The wood cracked under the impact, a sharp gasp leaving her lips as he pinned her there. Ava immediately froze. You sucked in a breath, still sobbing, still terrified of how quickly this was escalating.

But Ben? Ben wasn’t even fucking done yet. His voice was low when he finally spoke, and it was calm. Too calm. “Say that again”.

Liv let out a short, breathless laugh, her cheek still pressed against the splintered countertop. “What—”.

He tightened his grip. She gasped again, fingers twitching against the wood. “Dad—”.

“You think you can talk to her like that?”, he murmured, still eerily calm. Too calm. “Think you can disrespect her? Make her cry?”. He leaned in just slightly, lowering his head beside hers, and his next words sent a shiver down your spine. “After everything she’s fucking done for you?”.

For the first time since this fight started, you saw it. Fear. Liv might have been half-supe, but she wasn’t Ben. And right now, Ben wasn’t the father who had held her as a baby, who had carried her on his shoulders as a child, who had let her get away with things he never should have. Right now, he was a soldier. And he was pissed.

Liv swallowed hard, struggling slightly under his grip, but Ben didn’t let her go. Instead, he turned his head slightly, flicking his gaze over to Ava, who stood frozen, wide-eyed, chest still heaving. “You too”, he muttered, his voice like steel. “You think this shit is okay? You think tearing each other apart, tearing this house apart, disrespecting your mother is okay?”.

Neither of them said a word and that only pissed him off more. “I asked you a fucking question!”. Ava flinched. Liv clenched her jaw, but she didn’t dare say anything this time.

Your breath was still shaky, your fingers gripping the doorway, unsure if you should interfere. But you knew Ben. You knew he would never really hurt them. And more than that—you knew they deserved this. They needed to understand.

After a long, heavy silence, Ben finally exhaled through his nose, slowly, controlled. Then, he released Liv, letting her stumble back slightly as he stood up to his full height. The room was suffocating with tension, and for a long moment, no one said anything. Then, Ben finally turned to you. His face softened, just slightly, as he took in your tear-streaked face again, the exhaustion still carved into every inch of you.

And when he spoke again, it wasn’t for them. It was for you. “Go upstairs, baby”. His voice was still rough, still edged with leftover anger, but it was softer now. Gentle. “I’ll handle this”.

Your chest tightened. You weren’t sure if you should stay, if you should make sure things didn’t get worse. But one look at his face, at the way his entire body radiated barely-contained fury, and you knew, he wasn’t asking. He was telling you.

So, with one last shaky breath, you nodded, wiped at your face, and turned toward the stairs. And as you walked away, the last thing you heard was Ben’s voice, darker than you’d ever heard it before. “You two have no fucking idea what you just did”.

You climbed the stairs, still shaking, still raw, but you didn’t make it far before Ben’s voice erupted behind you, low and dangerous at first, but quickly rising into a full-on roar.

“The fuck is wrong with you two?”.

You froze just at the top of the stairs, gripping the railing, listening.

“I leave for a few months, and you think you can act like this? Think you can fucking destroy this house, disrespect your mother, like you’re a couple of fucking animals?”.

Neither of them answered. Of course, they didn’t. But that only made it worse. Ben scoffed, pacing. You could hear his boots scuffing against the shattered glass, crunching debris underfoot. “Do you have any idea what she’s been through? What the fuck she sacrificed for you?”. His voice was like a growl now, cutting through the dead silence of the house like a blade. “Fourteen fucking years. Fourteen years of putting you first. Of giving up everything she ever fucking wanted to make sure you had a goddamn life. And this is how you repay her?”.

“It’s not our fault she’s—”. Liv didn’t even get the words out before something slammed. Not a hit. Not violence. Just the sharp, sudden crack of Ben’s fist colliding with the already-damaged countertop, making the entire room shake.

You winced. Oh, they fucked up.

“You finish that fucking sentence”, Ben growled, “and see what happens”.

Silence.

“I fucking dare you!”.

Neither of them moved, while you barely even breathed.

Then, after a long, heavy pause, Ben inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, like he was forcing himself to regain control. When he spoke again, his voice was steadier, but no less dangerous. “You’re gonna fix this”, he ordered. “Now”.

Still, neither of them moved.

Ben let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Oh, you don’t wanna?”, he mocked. “You don’t feel like it?”.

More silence. Wrong answer.

“Clean it the fuck up!”, he roared. “Now!”.

Ava moved first. Slowly, hesitantly, she stepped toward the mess, toward the shattered glass, the broken wood, the overturned chairs. Liv hesitated a second longer, but when Ben took one slow step toward her, she flinched and quickly followed her sister’s lead. “Fix the fucking counter while you’re at it”, Ben snapped. “And the fridge. And anything else you two decided to rip apart like a couple of fucking animals”.

You heard them shift, heard them muttering under their breath as they reluctantly did what they were told. But it wasn’t enough for Ben. “You don’t mutter”, he growled. “You don’t fucking complain. You do it, and you do it right, because if I so much as see one goddamn scratch left behind when you’re done—”. He didn’t even finish the sentence. Didn’t have to.

Another silence.

Then, finally, a small, trembling “Yes, sir”, from Ava. Liv didn’t say anything at first, but when Ben turned his gaze toward her, sharp as a blade, she swallowed hard and muttered, “Yes, sir”.

You exhaled shakily from your place at the top of the stairs, pressing a hand to your chest, your heartbeat still unsteady. Ben wasn’t done with them yet. Not by a long shot. But for now, for the first time in months, you finally felt like someone was on your side.

Ben’s voice was still sharp, still cutting through the silence like a blade. “I don’t fucking care how you do it. I don’t care if you have to use your goddamn powers, glue it together, or call a goddamn contractor. This kitchen better look exactly the way it did before by tomorrow”.

Neither Ava nor Liv spoke. They just nodded, their movements tense, their energy subdued for the first time in months.

Ben scoffed, shaking his head. “None of you get to fucking sleep until it’s done”. His voice was lower now, gritted between his teeth. “You don’t get to wreck shit, disrespect your mother, and then go to bed like nothing happened”.

Ava swallowed hard, her head hanging slightly. Even Liv, who had spent the entire evening testing every last limit, finally had the sense to shut the fuck up. Ben muttered a few more curses under his breath, something about how they were out of their goddamn minds, before finally turning on his heel and walking out of the kitchen.

And then, his eyes landed on you. Still standing there, your arms wrapped around yourself, your face still wet with the evidence of the tears you had tried to hold back. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at you.

Then, without hesitation, his large hands settled on your waist, pulling you toward him, and before you could process it, he was already walking, guiding you down the hallway, up the stairs, not even giving you the chance to resist. “Ben—”. You sniffed, your voice still wobbly. “I need to—”.

“You don’t need to do shit”, he muttered.

You didn’t argue. You didn’t have it in you to.

His grip was firm, steady, his calloused fingers pressing against your hip as he pushed open the bathroom door. Without missing a beat, he reached over, turning on the shower, the sound of rushing water filling the space. You barely had time to blink before he was already undoing his bloodied, dirt-covered uniform, his fingers moving fast, practiced. And then his eyes were on you again. Unyielding. Soft, but still burning with something you couldn’t name.

“C’mere”, he murmured, his voice quieter now. He didn’t give you the chance to hesitate. Didn’t let you overthink. His fingers were already working at your clothes, peeling the day off of you, piece by piece, until there was nothing left between you. Until all that was left was warmth, his arms, the steam curling around you both.

He didn’t stop moving until the water was cascading over both of you, until his hands were running slow, careful circles along your back, down your spine, grounding you. You let out a shaky breath, pressing your forehead against his chest, your body finally letting go of all the tension you had been holding in.

Ben exhaled sharply, his chin resting against the top of your head. “I got you”, he muttered, his voice lower, rougher. He squeezed your waist just slightly, just enough to remind you that you weren’t alone. “I got you, baby”.

The second Ben pulled you closer, the warmth of his body soaking into yours, something inside you snapped. You had held it together for so long… too long. But now, standing here, in his arms, with the water running down your back and his firm grip steadying you, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. A broken sob tore out of your throat, and you collapsed against him. Your fingers clutched at his shoulders, your face burying itself into his chest as the weight of the last two and a half months finally crushed you all at once.

Ben stiffened slightly at first, but only for a second. Then, his grip tightened, his arms wrapping fully around you, holding you so damn tight it was like he was trying to pull every ounce of pain straight out of your body. "Shit", he muttered, voice gruff, but gentle. One of his hands found the back of your head, fingers threading through your wet hair as his lips pressed a slow, grounding kiss against your temple. “I’m here, baby”.

You shook your head, the tears coming harder now, your entire body trembling against him. "I—I can't—".

"Yeah, you can". His voice was steady, like a rock against the storm raging inside you. "You already have".

You clenched your eyes shut. He didn't understand. Not yet.

Your hormones were everywhere, your body betraying you, the stress of the past few weeks mixing with the overwhelming knowledge that you were pregnant again.

Two weeks ago, you had found out, alone in that same bathroom, staring at a stupid little plastic stick while your daughters tore through the house downstairs. Two weeks of carrying that secret, of trying to navigate every emotion that came with it, of trying to figure out how you would even tell him.

And now, with his arms around you, his voice in your ear, his body grounding you after so long apart, you couldn’t stop crying.

Ben let out a sharp breath, his hand trailing down your back, pressing firmly between your shoulder blades, his other arm still wound securely around your waist. "You're okay", he muttered, his lips brushing against your forehead. "You're okay, baby, I got you".

You clutched at him even tighter. His muscles tensed slightly under your grip, but he didn't move, didn’t let go, just let you cry. Let you fall apart. His grip was firm, steady, unshakable, just like he always was.

It was a long while before your sobs started to quiet, before your breathing evened out just enough for you to lift your head, your tear-streaked face pressed against his chest.

Ben sighed, running a rough hand over his face, shaking his head like he was still trying to process everything. “Those little shits”, he muttered, his voice gruff. “I swear, grounded till they’re eighteen”.

You let out a breathy, wet laugh, barely able to believe the words that just came out of his mouth. But he wasn’t kidding, he looked dead serious. Ben scoffed, shaking his head again, muttering more to himself now than to you. “No, fuck that. Grounded till they’re twenty-one. No powers. No leaving the house. They can sit in their goddamn rooms and think about what they’ve done”.

Your lips twitched, exhaustion still weighing down on you, but for the first time in hours, you actually smiled.

Ben trying to be a dad and not a soldier was always ridiculous. He was terrible at it. “You can’t ground them till they’re twenty-one”, you murmured, voice hoarse from all the crying.

“The fuck I can’t”, he shot back immediately.

You let out another weak, breathy laugh, leaning your forehead against his chest. “That’s not how parenting works”.

Ben huffed, still glaring like he was ready to walk downstairs and yell at them all over again. “The fuck do I know about parenting?”. He gestured vaguely toward the door. “They’re terrorists”.

You let out a real laugh at that, shaking your head, wiping at your face as your body finally started to calm down.

Ben exhaled, watching you for a long moment, eyes scanning over your face, lingering on the fresh tear tracks still marking your skin. Then, finally, he softened. One of his hands came up, tilting your chin so you’d look at him, his thumb brushing slow, steady circles against your cheek. “I mean it”, he murmured, his voice lower now, rough but real. “They don’t get to treat you like that”.

You swallowed hard, your throat still raw.

“They don’t get to disrespect you like that”, he continued, voice firm. “Not while I’m here. Not while I’m alive”.

Your chest tightened, your fingers curling against his damp skin. "They don’t take me seriously since I’m just human. No powers. No supe" You had never said it out loud before, but you had felt it.

For years, you had felt it creeping in, that slow, painful realization that your daughters were outgrowing not just their childhoods, but you. That as their powers grew stronger, your place in their world became smaller, less significant. You had given up everything for them, your youth, your dreams, your future. You had poured everything into being a mother, into loving them. And for what? For them to look down on you?

You sniffed, your fingers clenching slightly against Ben’s chest, voice small, breaking. "I miss the days when they were little".

Ben exhaled sharply, his hand still cradling your face, his thumb brushing away the new tears slipping down your cheeks.

"They were so excited to see me back then", you whispered, voice wobbly. "So happy when I picked them up after daycare at the Tower. They’d come running, their little arms up, like I was the most important person in the world". Your throat tightened. "They loved me back then", you choked out, your voice cracking on the last word.

Ben stilled. His jaw clenched so hard you thought it might break. And then, before you could spiral further, before the weight of it all crushed you completely, Ben moved. He cupped your face fully in both of his large, calloused hands, forcing you to look at him. His eyes, those sharp, deep green eyes, locked onto yours, holding you there. "You listen to me", he said, voice rough, steady. "They still love you".

You shook your head, another tear slipping down your cheek. "No, they—".

"Yes, they fucking do". His grip tightened just slightly, his forehead coming to rest against yours, grounding you, keeping you from slipping away into that dark place. "They’re little shits right now, yeah. And they don’t deserve you. But they love you".

Your breath was shaky, your heart pounding against your ribs.

"They just don’t fucking get it yet", Ben muttered, voice lower now, almost more to himself than you. "They don’t understand what you’ve done for them. What you’ve given up. But one day? One day they will".

You swallowed hard, your lips trembling, your vision still blurry from fresh tears.

"And by then", Ben murmured, his voice gritted, his fingers brushing over your cheek, "they’re gonna fucking regret ever making you feel like this".

Your breath hitched, and another tear slipped free. Ben caught it with his thumb, his lips brushing against your temple, against your wet skin.

"You’re the best fucking mom in the world", he muttered, his voice unshakable. "And they don’t deserve you".

You let out a broken little breath, your fingers gripping at his arms, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping you standing.

Ben helped you out of the shower, his hands steady, warm, gentle in a way that only you ever got to see. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around your shoulders before reaching for the robe hanging on the hook. Without a word, he slipped it over you, his fingers brushing against your arms as he tied the fabric snugly around your waist.

His own towel hung low on his hips as he led you toward the bedroom, his hand resting firm on the small of your back. You were exhausted, your body heavy, your emotions drained, but at least now, wrapped in the warmth of Ben’s presence, you didn’t feel like you were falling apart.

As you walked down the hallway, voices from downstairs caught both your attention. Liv and Ava. Still snapping at each other, their hushed, angry tones barely carrying past the kitchen, but not quiet enough to escape Ben’s ears. Not quiet enough to escape yours, either.

"Just shut up and do it", Ava muttered, her voice sharp.

"You shut up", Liv hissed back. "This was your fucking fault!".

"My fault?", Ava scoffed, and you could practically hear the eye roll in her voice. "You threw the first fucking punch!".

"And you threw me through the goddamn counter!".

"Well, maybe if you weren’t such a—".

The moment Ben stopped walking, you knew shit was about to go down. His body tensed beside you, his jaw tightening, his expression darkening all over again. They were trying to be quiet. Trying to keep it low enough so that he wouldn’t hear. But of course, he did. Of course, you did too.

Ben exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "These fucking brats", he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You let out a small, tired sigh. "They’re not gonna stop, are they?".

Ben scoffed, rolling his shoulders like he was physically forcing himself to stay upstairs instead of marching down there and ripping them a new one. "Not until one of ‘em is in a goddamn coma".

You swallowed, rubbing your temple, the weight of everything settling in your chest again.And Ben caught it immediately. His frustration didn’t leave, but he shifted, just slightly, his hand coming back to rest on your hip, grounding you.

"You wanna go down there?", he asked, voice lower now, steadier. "Or you want me to?".

You hesitated. For weeks, you had been the only one handling this. The only one trying to parent them, to keep them from killing each other, to keep them from destroying everything around them. For weeks, you had been at your wits’ end. And now, Ben was finally here. Finally handling it with you.

You exhaled slowly, pressing your fingers against your temple again. "You", you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "You handle it".

Ben didn’t hesitate. "Yeah", he muttered, his grip on your waist tightening for a brief second before he pulled away. "That’s what I thought".

Ben led you into the bedroom first, his touch still firm, still grounding. He pulled out a pair of sweatpants from the dresser, slipping them on before running a rough hand through his damp hair. His eyes flickered back to you once, scanning over your still-exhausted face, the weight of everything still sitting heavy on your shoulders. “Lay down”, he muttered, voice softer now.

You hesitated, your fingers curling slightly into the robe, but before you could argue, he was already shaking his head. “Not asking”, he said, giving you a pointed look. “Lay down. Get some rest. I’ll deal with them”.

You exhaled slowly, finally relenting as you sank onto the bed, letting the exhaustion pull at your limbs. Ben hesitated for a moment, watching you as if to make sure you were really going to listen before he turned and made his way toward the door. And then, with one last roll of his shoulders, he stormed downstairs.

The second his footsteps hit the floor, the arguing stopped. Liv and Ava froze. Both of them stood in the middle of the half-cleaned kitchen, still covered in leftover destruction, their bodies stiffening the moment they realized he was there. Ben’s gaze was sharp, scanning the mess they still hadn’t properly dealt with, then landing on the two of them, standing there like a couple of guilty little criminals.

Liv was the first to break, grimacing dramatically as she threw a hand over her face, turning away from him.“Ew, Dad! Pull on a shirt!”. Ava, standing beside her, made a similar sound of disgust, covering her own eyes like she was witnessing something horrific.

Ben stopped in his tracks, looking down at himself, at the way his bare chest was still on full display, before letting out an incredulous laugh. “You two little assholes have the nerve to destroy my kitchen, act like a couple of feral fucking animals, and this—”. He gestured vaguely to himself. “This is where you draw the goddamn line?”.

Liv groaned. “It’s just wrong”, she muttered, still shielding her eyes. Ava nodded in agreement. “Seriously. There are boundaries, Dad".

Ben let out a sharp, humorless scoff, crossing his arms over his chest. “You think this is bad?”, he asked. “Try seeing your mother standing in the driveway ready to fucking leave because of the two of you”. That shut them up.

Liv’s fingers twitched slightly against her face, while Ava shifted on her feet, her shoulders stiffening just a bit more.

Ben’s smirk dropped immediately. “Yeah”, he said, voice dropping into something low. “Not so fucking funny now, huh?”.

Neither of them spoke.

Ben took another step forward, his presence heavy, the sheer disappointment rolling off of him in waves. “Sit”, he ordered.

Neither of them moved.

“Now!”.

Liv dropped into the nearest chair first. Ava followed a second later, both of them stiff, tense, like they knew this was about to be bad.

Ben inhaled deeply, exhaled through his nose, his fingers pressing into his temples like he was trying to physically keep himself from throwing them both out of a window. Then, finally, he spoke. “Let me tell you something about your mother”, he muttered, voice like steel. “That woman is the best goddamn thing that ever happened to you. You know how I know that?”.

Neither of them answered. But Ben didn’t give a shit.

“Because you wouldn’t even fucking exist without her”.

Ava shifted uncomfortably.

Ben scoffed. “Oh, what? You don’t like hearing it? You don’t like knowing that she almost died to bring you into this world? That she put her whole goddamn life on hold to raise you? That she’s spent fourteen fucking years doing nothing but giving a shit about you two?”.

Liv swallowed hard.

Ben leaned forward slightly, his hands braced against the back of a chair, his sharp green eyes burning straight through them. “And this—”. He gestured to the destruction around them. “This is how you repay her?”.

Neither of them spoke.

Ben exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening as he ran a hand down his face, barely containing the frustration burning beneath his skin. His voice came out low, lethal. “I didn’t raise you like that!”.

Liv scoffed under her breath. It was quiet, almost too quiet, but Ben caught it. And then she muttered, “You barely raised us at all”.

Silence. The kind of silence that made the air in the room heavy, suffocating.

Ava’s eyes widened slightly, her body stiffening. Even Liv, who had never backed down from a fight, looked like she was regretting saying it the second the words left her mouth.

Ben slowly turned his head, his expression blank, unreadable, but his eyes? His eyes were sharp, cutting straight through her like a blade. “What the fuck did you just say?”. His voice wasn’t raised, wasn’t angry, it was calm. Too calm.

Liv swallowed but lifted her chin anyway, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “You’re never here”, she muttered, her voice quieter now, but still defiant. “You come and go whenever the fuck you want. Mom’s the one who’s always been here”.

Ben inhaled deeply through his nose, rolling his tongue over his teeth, his fingers flexing against the back of the chair like he was physically stopping himself from putting a hole through the wall. “Yeah?”, he muttered, voice dangerously low. “And why the fuck do you think that is?”.

Liv didn’t answer.

“You think I wanna be gone?”. His voice sharpened, cutting through the thick silence like a knife. “You think I choose to be halfway across the goddamn world instead of here?”.

Ben let out a sharp, humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair, his patience hanging by a goddamn thread. “You think I wanna spend my fucking life hunting down out-of-control supes?”, he snapped. “Supes who think they’re better than everyone? Who think the rules don’t fucking apply to them?”. His eyes burned into hers. “Supes like you?”.

Liv flinched. Ava inhaled sharply beside her but stayed silent.

Ben scoffed again, rolling his shoulders like he was trying to physically shake off the anger rolling through him. “You wanna know why I’m not around?”, he muttered. “Because every goddamn day, I’m cleaning up the messes people like you make”.

Liv’s hands clenched into fists. Ben caught it. “Go ahead”, he said, tilting his head slightly. “Clench your fucking fists. Get mad. But you know what? That anger? That arrogance?”. His voice darkened. “That’s the same shit I see in every single supe I have to put down”.

The room was thick with tension. Liv’s face hardened, her jaw clenching so tight it looked painful.

“You think you’re so powerful”, Ben muttered, shaking his head, “so above everything, but let me tell you something—”. His voice was low, steady, like a goddamn threat. “You’re not fucking invincible, kid".

Ava swallowed hard, her eyes flickering between Liv and Ben, caught between wanting to say something and knowing better. Liv’s nostrils flared. “So what? You’re saying you’d kill us?”.

Ben felt the words like a punch to the gut. His jaw twitched, his breath coming in heavier as he really looked at Liv, looked at the way she sat in front of him, shoulders squared, fists clenched, actually believing he would ever hurt her. His own fucking daughter. The little girl who used to sit on his shoulders, who used to grip his fingers so tight with her tiny hands, who used to curl up in his arms when she had nightmares.

And now she was sitting there, fists raised, thinking, even for a second, that he could ever kill her.

His heart fucking broke. His expression didn’t soften, but something behind his eyes shifted. “Jesus”, he muttered, exhaling roughly, shaking his head. “You think I would ever hurt you?”.

Liv didn’t answer.

Ben scoffed, rubbing a hand down his face, suddenly feeling a whole different kind of exhaustion settle over him. “I sure as hell don’t kill my own kids”, he muttered, his voice lower now, not as sharp.

Ava swallowed beside her, her gaze flickering between them, and Liv, despite the stubborn set of her jaw, looked like she was faltering. But Ben wasn’t done. “You and your sister, you’re half me”, he muttered, voice rough. “You got my blood in your veins, my fucking strength, my temper”. He exhaled sharply. “But you also got your mother’s heart. And that’s the only reason I haven’t put my foot so far up your ass you’d be coughing up my fucking boot”.

Ava let out a small, breathy sound that almost sounded like a laugh, but she quickly smothered it. Liv’s hands slowly unfurled, her expression shifting from anger to something else. Something almost like regret.

Ben shook his head again, running a hand through his hair. “You think I’d kill you?”, he muttered. “Kid, I’d burn the fucking world to keep you safe”.

Liv sucked in a sharp breath. Ava glanced away, like she suddenly felt bad for even being here to witness this.

Ben inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, shaking his head one last time before straightening up. “Fix the goddamn kitchen”, he muttered, his voice rough, but no longer angry. Just tired. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving them both sitting in thick, suffocating silence.

The second he stepped into the bedroom, his eyes landed on you. Still curled up on the bed, watching him, waiting for him. And just like that, all the exhaustion, all the frustration, all the fucking heartbreak melted into something else. Something softer.

Without hesitation, Ben walked over, pulled back the blankets, and climbed into bed beside you. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest, his lips brushing against your forehead. “You okay?”, you whispered, your voice still hoarse.

Ben exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around you. “Yeah”, he muttered. “I just needed to remind ‘em”.

“Of what?”.

He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, his voice rough but honest when he said. “That they’re still my little girls”.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 2

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[elliesglock]

ice live analysis part l | before pazzi cuddle

this live man. can we first of all talk about the implications of this live? literally TRANSFORMED belief in pazzi and fed a whole nation i must say. so ice starts the live off on insta and we kinda just gotta bear w her for the rest of the way cause it's rocky. maybe subconsciously she knew she was launching pazzi the night cause she had us going through WAR to watch this damn thing. also uconn wifi is literally ball sack ass hairs so. from the beginning of the live, we get a pretty good picture to who is already turnt (paige) and to who is getting there (azzi). paige keeps dancing in the shot and she's just in party p mode so you know she's already gone to the world. ice shows azzi and ofc she's looking absolutely stellar and perfect. i know paige was peeing her pants looking at her. i think that's why she gets so feral later on in this live oop but we'll get into that. it starts off pretty normal but in the beginning we hear kayla talking about something that will have a pretty big significance later on in my analysis. it sounds like she's talking to everyone around her about her little shi. it honestly sounds like whoever this is is questioning whether she's at a bar and mad at her for it. ice says, "just tell him ur at the gym doing shots." tryna get her to make a cover story. and ice again is like "what even is a ted you're not there!!" okay wing woman ice literal FARM in this live cause she also gives us one of the biggest pazzi moments ever while also helping kayla tame her little yeah. also tf is going on at ted's we got mfs behind the bar (carol) handing out shots for everyone like she's the bartender. girl your friends are actively launching on main and here she come w the jell-o shots? please give me a break. now atp we see azzi's a tad turnt, especially after we hear caroline handing out shots, she looks ice's camera dead in the face and says do u want a drink do you wanna a drink not even realizing. then in the background she's like OF WATER OF WATER. mind u this girl not even supposed to be drinking but shit azzi ig let's take a shot. the camera eventually gets to paige and girl can't even stand. these two together are the main reason they got caught let's be real, ice just had the camera and was accidentally messy. but paige is dancing like shit and you can tell she's wasted. and she lowkey starts getting very cuddly when she's drunk and the energy around her just seems so flirty and like she's waiting for the minute she can go over and go touch azzi and cuddle up with her. we get a good display of how paige is when she's drunk and for me it really 100% points to her being touchy and craving azzi no matter what. her eyes are low, she's lingering around, she's dancing and smiling like a goof. she's having fun but i know once she gets over there to az she's gonna be begging to hit that bathroom if ykwim. AND OMG tell me why she grins, looks behind her to wear azzi is, and basically power walks over there. ice looks behind her and gives her guilty little smile like she always does. my theory is they were kissing and carrying on this whole live. every time we don't see paige we also don't see azzi just putting that out there. i think they probs disappeared a few times to.....lets just say make out in the bathroom and take some shots. they kinda remain in that corner for a second because ice keeps looking back almost to make sure they don't accidentally come into her shot. she seems very on edge which makes me feel like they def were kissing/making out and she was worried they were too drunk to not accidentally walk into the camera shot. i like to say during all of this everyone legit has no reaction and keeps going on about their own things and it really says to me this is a very normal thing at ted's.

during this next part, im not really a believer of the whole "come make out with me" cause listening with headphones multiple times i legit hear two people talking about wings. there's one beside ice saying "who ordered buffalo wings?" and then off in the distance you hear someone say we ordered wings. this is the person who's often misinterpreted as paige telling azzi to come make out with her. not that she wasn't asking her (she def was) but it wasn't in this moment. sorry yall 🥀.

during pazzi cuddle:

alright this next part needs its own fucking section CAUSE ISUNEH BRADY!!!! u just won us the lottery girly pop. there's a fated comment that starts this whole mess that says "show us da team" and ice not realizing what's happening behind her (poor girl) does a spin of the people behind her. it's very quick and honestly the people who say they can't tell what's happening are liars. it's very obviously paige and azzi are pushed back into the corner and paige has her hand on azzi's waist and azzi has her hand on paige's face and they're smiling. it's seriously the cutest thing ever and they seem so in love idk why people made it seem like it was such a bad thing. i understand the privacy aspect but to deny it when it's obv VERY ROMANTIC body language is insane to me but whatever ig. against popular belief, i don't think they were kissing. i think they just got done kissing. and they were still in the stance for it. paige's hand kinda slowly comes up from azzi's hip which says to me they were just making out and paige was grabbing what is rightfully hers i won't even lie. but at that moment ice turns the camera, they're not. them smiling at each other is so freaking cute they seem very honeymoonish newly wed kinda happy. and to be frank, i find it so beautiful that they are literally surrounded by people their age and their friends, and could be partying and dancing but they're near one another lost in each other. that is the biggest thing the ice live showed me truthfully. that they legit only see each other and no matter how much fun they're having nothings more fun than hanging out with each other and looking into each others eyes and loving on one another. IM SO FUCKING OVER IT PAZZI. now i wanna talk about the implications of this moment because it's huge. first of all, nobody even bats an eye. if they were just friends this whole conversation and closeness would be something everyone's staring at/laughing at, but nobody looks even the slightest bit of surprised. jana's literally looking away and at ice's screen when she's standing right beside them. caroline's holding a whole convo w azzi while paige is actively looking for another kiss from her and getting closer?? that's not normal friend behavior im sorry....also ices reaction. not normal at all either. seeing them in a weird stance like that if they were just friends she wouldn't rip the camera away from them, she'd be like what are yall doing and laugh. just like how she shows A BUNCH of people hanging on paige and eachother and doesn't move the camera. she moves the camera this live when she's showing something she's not supposed to. especially with how wide her eyes get, she knows she's not supposed to be showing this. and she gets all weird and on edge again after this. she knew she just showed fans a couple kissing and cuddling when they weren't out. THATS why she reacts the way she does not because of anything anybody else says. and no don't blame ice for anything she didn't mean too, I'll stab u if u do thank you.

[cozymochi]

Hey Cozy! Saw your most recently answered ask about Nyoka and wondered. How much would someone or thing have to push him to actually show or use his fangs? Or use his unique magic on them. Basically, how much would it take for him to actually go off? Since he's not a hot head, I assume it would be a lot.

Also, what about Emilio and Cecil or Tia? How much would it take for them to go off on someone, and would they use their unique magic/Grim (or any physical object within reaching distance for the lovely magicless Tia) in that situation?

(Apologies if this has been answered before! I couldn't remember if it was or not.)

Anyway, thank you for sharing these wonderful characters with us! And for putting up with us and our questions. 😌 Hope you have a wonderful day/night!

(i like questions, they keep me sustained 😭💖 I was gonna draw for everything but I kinda. Hurt. Anyway-) Prev Ask in question /// Unique Magic/Signature Spells

I’m not sure… he puts up with a lot already every day. It’s very hard to get him to bear fangs at all, he’s just not going to no matter how much he’s goaded. He’ll certainly threaten it, but he doesn’t want to actually do it. He puts being dignified above that. That’s a last resort defense if truly cornered, and he would be very unhappy (and lowkey embarrassed) if it resorted to that without a justifiable reason. He’d have to really be taken by surprise, which also isn’t easy to do. Unless, like…. Someone like Grim was suddenly lobbed at his head out of nowhere—

Who can prep for that? But, I suppose it would vary. He’s not as bite-happy as one would think.

Nyoka’s UM in itself isn’t very practical in terms of being beneficial to him consistently, so there isn’t much incentive for him to use it. Unless he was playing very dirty for some reason and knows what kind of person he’s targeting— and don’t get me wrong, he’s not above that sort of thing. There’s just no reason for him to want to use it. It’s just not subtle enough and risky. Somebody else more ambitious might find making others act unscrupulous against their will useful though.

Cecil mostly takes the any of the shit given to him with sarcasm or grumbles to himself, but he’s an opportunist. IF given the shot to retaliate in a dirty way, and he isn’t having a second-guessing moment then he is more than willing to shut somebody up via freezing them like a statue. They won’t be having a good time when their eyes dry out from not being able to blink /hj. God forbid being on the receiving end of a spell screw-up from him too at that. With how sarcastic he is, it seems like everything bothers him all the time to some degree.

Emilio is already a mess, stepping on his boots might be enough to get him upset to the point of retaliation /hj. Like Cecil, he’s an opportunist so if there’s a chance to play dirty he will. His UM is not useful in this kind of scenario though. If Emilio feels his abilities in some way are being underestimated or disregarded it’ll probably just turn into a stupid competition to prove his superiority. Despite how he wants to present himself he is a bit hot-headed and his retaliations might be disproportionate in scale. “This person touched my coffee mug, so I took their kidneys” headass. (Disclaimer: not literal, but that’s the energy)

The first thing Tia did when summoned to Twisted Wonderland - aside from run from Grim - was scream and lob nearby objects at Crowley when he found her. He still holds this act of violence against him to this day. Tia gets bothered pretty easily and will speak up about it or try defending herself in some way. She also hates being underestimated and thanks to her tunnel-vision may jump into situations she’s not equipped for at all just to prove a point— then regret it almost immediately. She tries to stay composed and usually she will be, but she can get cranky if pushed too far.

She’s the prefect, I think the “what” in this scenario speaks for itself. She’s at NRC. Her friends are the principle cast. It’s over.

[zoe535]

Out of Bounds

Chapter 2

WC: 1.9K

---

Emily was curled up on the couch, a thick blanket wrapped around her legs and the soft murmur of Criminal Minds playing on the TV. The case was halfway through. She’d seen this episode before, but the familiar rhythm of the dialogue and the low lighting in her apartment made it the perfect background noise. Her glass of cabernet sat within reach on the coffee table, and the warm buzz of it was beginning to settle in her limbs. As the credits rolled, she let out a small sigh and rose slowly, gathering the empty plate from her late dinner and the glass to carry into the kitchen.

She rinsed the dishes in the sink, wiped down the counter with a damp cloth, and took a moment to tidy up the living room, folding the blanket, fluffing the cushions, stacking a couple of magazines neatly. The small ritual of putting her space in order gave her a sense of calm. She glanced at the clock. It was late. Too late to start anything new. She paused by the hallway, took off her fuzzy slippers, and padded toward the bathroom, already looking forward to the comfort of a hot shower.

Steam curled up around the mirror as Emily stepped out, taking off her towel quickly and wrapping herself in her favorite white cotton robe. She ran a brush through her damp hair and walked barefoot through her apartment, a fresh glass of cabernet in hand and the mellow notes of Chet Baker drifting from the Bluetooth speaker in the corner of her kitchen. The apartment felt cozy and intimate, the lights reflecting off the hardwood floors, giving the space a welcoming feel. The city outside was a faraway hum, like a distant memory, but the night inside house was her sanctuary.

Emily glanced at her phone on the counter. It buzzed just as she reached for it. A message from an unknown number blinked at her. She debated ignoring it for a moment but found herself compelled to open it.

Unknown number: Hey. It’s Paige Bueckers. Just wanted to say thanks for… ruining my concentration tonight.

Emily smirked. She leaned against the counter and took a sip of wine, savoring the smooth flavor before typing a quick reply.

Emily: That bad, huh? I thought you did fine. Twenty points, right?

She set her phone down for a moment, letting the words linger in her mind. Paige had been a star out there on the court, but there was a certain something about her—a spark that Emily hadn’t been able to shake. The way she carried herself, the way her energy filled the space… it made Emily think about things she hadn't considered in a long time.

A soft vibration interrupted her thoughts.

Paige: Yeah, but I missed a free throw. I rarely miss free throws.

Emily chuckled under her breath, rolling her eyes playfully. Paige’s competitiveness was something that she had already sensed on the court.

Emily: Tragic. I’ll try not to be so distracting next time. The reply came faster than she expected.

Paige: Don’t. Distract me. I liked it. …Too much maybe. So, uh. Can I make it up to you?

Emily raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Paige was bold—she liked that. She appreciated someone who could keep her on her toes.

Emily: Depends. What did you have in mind?

Another pause. Emily could almost picture Paige pacing back and forth, trying to come up with the right response. She imagined Paige sitting on the other side of her phone, adjusting her posture, trying to sound casual when she was probably anything but.

Paige: Dinner. Somewhere you like. No crowds. No cameras. Just… me and you.

That made Emily smile. Simple, direct, and exactly what she wanted. No fanfare, no drama. Just two people, alone together. It was better than she had expected.

She lingered on the text for a moment longer, thinking about it. There was something effortless about the way Paige had asked. No games, no tricks. Just genuine interest.

Emily: Pick me up Friday. 7 PM. Wear something not sweat-drenched.

A beat passed before the response came.

Paige: You got it.

---

Friday

The evening was finally here, and Emily couldn’t help but check the time again. 6:58 PM. Paige was punctual, which made Emily smile to herself. She stood by the window, watching the black SUV pull up to the curb below. The sound of the engine’s rumble brought her back to the present.

She didn’t rush. Instead, she walked slowly to the hallway mirror, running her fingers through her hair and glancing over herself once more. She was wearing a deep emerald green dress that clung to her figure, structured and elegant with a slit that showed just a glimpse of her toned legs. She added a final touch with gold earrings that caught the soft light of her apartment. She was confident in how she looked—confident in how she felt.

It wasn’t every day she went on a date with someone as intriguing as Paige Bueckers.

Downstairs, Paige adjusted the collar of her crisp white shirt, rolling the sleeves up neatly. She had made an effort, but she hadn’t overdone it. Her dark jeans were loosely fitted but comfortable, and her white sneakers were perfectly clean—she always had a certain attention to detail, even when it came to the smallest things. Her breath was steady, but her palms were sweaty. No amount of preparation had calmed the jittery feeling in her stomach as she waited.

She had faced crowds, interviews, and moments of high pressure, but none of them compared to the moment Emily would finally step out of her apartment complex.

And then she did.

Emily’s presence was striking, making Paige’s heart beat a little faster than it had been a moment before.

"You clean up nice, superstar," Emily said, her voice low and teasing, keys in hand.

Paige let out a breathy laugh. "You, uh... you look incredible."

"Try to keep your jaw off the ground," Emily said, eyes twinkling. "We haven’t even gotten to dessert yet."

Paige grinned, fighting the instinct to look away. She opened the passenger door, trying to act normal. "Then let's get going before I embarrass myself even more."

The restaurant was tucked away in downtown Dallas, intimate and quiet. The warm lighting and soft jazz created an atmosphere that was both relaxed and sophisticated. Emily had been there a few times before—it was one of those places that felt timeless, where people went to connect rather than to be seen. It wasn’t the sort of restaurant where the staff treated you like a VIP. It was the kind of place that felt personal, even when you were a stranger.

Their table, tucked by the window, was softly lit by the gentle glow of the hanging lights. The setting was perfect for what had started as an unexpected connection but had grown into something real, something promising.

Paige pulled out her chair awkwardly, bumping the corner of the table with her hip. Emily pretended not to notice, focusing on the menu with her usual poised air.

They ordered wine—something light and smooth—and shared a few small plates. The conversation flowed with an ease that surprised Paige. It wasn’t just about the usual things, like the game or the weather. Emily asked about Paige’s childhood, about the people who had influenced her growing up, about the things that shaped the woman she was now.

"So," Emily asked, cutting into a piece of her smoked honey glazed salmon, "do you always make a habit of hitting on strangers mid-game, or was I special?"

Paige nearly choked on her wine, the question catching her off guard. "I didn’t plan it. You were just..."

"Distracting?"

"Yeah. That."

Emily leaned forward slightly, her fingers delicately tracing the rim of her wine glass. "You’re lucky it was charming. Some people would call that stalking."

Paige let out a laugh that filled the space between them, easing her nerves. "Well, in that case, I’ll keep it charming."

By the time dessert arrived—decadent chocolate mousse paired with fresh raspberries—Paige had stopped checking her phone, stopped worrying about what to say next. It wasn’t just the food that made her feel at ease. It was the way Emily drew her in, making everything feel natural.

Emily had a way of making people feel heard. Like they were important. Paige wasn’t used to that kind of attention. She was used to people admiring her from afar, wanting something from her. But Emily? Emily made her feel like the most interesting person in the room, and it was...intoxicating.

They walked out of the restaurant slowly, neither in a rush to end the night.

"Want to take a walk?" Emily asked, nodding toward the quiet street, where lights glowed gently over cobblestone sidewalks.

"Yeah," Paige said, smiling softly. "Yeah, I do."

They walked side by side, close but not touching. Their conversation drifted into softer territory—childhood stories, favorite books, places they wanted to travel. Emily spoke about opening her clinic, about the long hours, the sacrifices, and the rewards. She spoke about her patients—the ones who made it all worth it.

Paige didn’t realize how much time had passed. Every step they took, every laugh, every secret look exchanged, felt like a moment that was only theirs.

"Can I ask something kind of dumb?" Paige said, breaking the comfortable silence.

Emily turned toward her, arching a brow. "You can try."

"When you gave me your number... did you know I was gonna text you?"

Emily smiled, slow and deliberate. "I had a feeling."

"Not because of the line, right? The 'pretty ones' thing."

"God, no," Emily laughed softly. "That line was terrible."

Paige winced, shaking her head. "Okay, yeah. It was."

Emily’s gaze softened. "But your face when you said it? That gave you away. You looked like you wanted to crawl into your jersey and disappear. It was cute."

Paige groaned. "I was nervous, okay?"

"I know," Emily said, her voice warm.

They stood there for a moment, a soft silence between them. Emily reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Paige’s forehead. It felt intimate—like something was shifting between them.

"You don’t need to be nervous," Emily said, her voice gentle, reassuring.

"Yeah," Paige murmured. "But I kinda still am."

Emily smiled, leaning in a little closer. "Good. Means you care."

Their hands brushed as they stood close to each other. A simple touch, but the electricity between them was undeniable. Neither of them had made a move yet, but the weight of the moment hung in the air.

At her apartment, Emily turned her key and pushed the door open. She hesitated for a moment before turning to face Paige.

"Thanks for tonight," Emily said softly, looking up at Paige with sincere eyes. "It was perfect."

"Thank you," Paige said, her voice hushed but full of meaning. "I haven’t felt this... relaxed in a long time."

Emily studied her, her gaze lingering a moment longer. "You’re sweet. You really are."

Paige looked almost shy under the porch light. "That’s not what people usually say."

Emily smiled, her fingers brushing over Paige’s hand before she stepped back into the apartment. "Then people aren’t paying close enough attention."

The door clicked shut, but Paige stood there for another full minute, grinning at nothing. She was in trouble. Real dangerous trouble.

And she couldn’t wait to do it again.

[confused-since-birth]

Razor's grip - part four

other chapters: 1 2 3

✨Notes: Hiii! I hope you enjoy this part as well, it isn't proofread yet, it might be incoherent in some parts, but I will edit it later. I would love feedback and advice where is needed. 💕

✨Characters: Sylus, non-mc!reader, Philip the shop owner, gang members

✨word count: 1672

✨warnings: men being weird, curse words at some point, death (insinuated), low-key stalking

Sylus wasn’t one to make rash decisions without a reason behind them. He also didn’t want useless elements anywhere near him; after all, the more, the harder to control. In this case, the first time the shop owner mentioned a certain student whose name appeared on very interesting papers Sylus paid no mind. He almost didn’t even recognize your name in some old files from Ever. Curiosity got the better of him and read your file: med student, an internship at Ever that was cut short without explanation. This intrigued him. He tried searching for an explanation on why was the internship so short, why did you give up, only to research protocores and the such.

After some days passed, he got his hands on a report from around that time. It stated that there was an incident regarding a procedure that was supposed to implant low energy protocores in some patients, then slowly raise the level of energy gradually while inside the body through different methods. However, things didn’t go as planned.

But there was no mention of you being present there in that moment.

Soon after, you gave up the internship at Ever, dropped out of medical school and enrolled in the University of Physics and Astronomy of Linkon City. Quite the change, you could say.

Sylus could feel something weird was happening the moment that one day, he came across a photo of you walking down the street, unknowing, and your address in newer files.

If you weren’t there that night, left with no problems, why would they put so much effort in keeping tabs on you?

That was the moment he decided that maybe Philip would appreciate a pair of hands in his shop that could help him. If Ever was so interested in your person, maybe you would prove to be an ace up his sleeve.

The night he saw you face to face for the first time, blood and sweat on your face he felt something close to familiarity. The fire in your eyes, the need to negotiate even if your life might’ve been in danger, startled something in him. He didn’t know what for sure, maybe amusement? Whatever it was, it made him want to see what will you do.

The week passed almost without noticing. You were starting to get used to the change. At first, the only thing you did was write reports and do the calculations for Philip to ease his work. He taught you new things, becoming your colleague and professor at the same time. Then, trying to help him more, you also started to work on the enhancers and repair broken pieces.

Sunday, while almost pulling your hair out because your results were far from the correct answer, you noticed Sylus standing in the door frame, waiting to be noticed. In his hand was a bag.

“I was wondering if, waiting for you to notice me, I will turn into a clothes hanger”, he says almost displeased.

“Did you go shopping and missed me?”, you reply dryly.

His only answer is a half smirk, while walking towards you. Sylus drops the bag on you papers and says:

“Go change quickly.”

In the bag were black dress pants and a jacket. They were beautifully tailored, fitting you like a second skin. The jacket was made a little longer than most would be. It closed with a red leather belt. They were comfortable and looked good. You put your hair in a bun, put on some shoes, and get in the car with Sylus.

“Thank you for the suit”, you say. It was unexpected, but much needed. You didn’t really have nice clothes and most of the time, near him, you feel inadequate anyway. “Where are we going?”

“A meeting”, he answers shortly, leaving no place for other discussions.

A deep sigh leaves your chest and chose to look out the window.

Sylus watches you with the corner of his eye, unbeknownst to you. He didn’t think the suit will look this good on your body. It was indeed simple, black and a speck of red. Did the red of the belt match the red of his eyes? Maybe. Did it stir a form of pride the fact that you wore his colors, while walking with that silent confidence of yours? Maybe. Your presence had a strange calming effect on him. There was only one person who could truly make him feel happy and calm, but it mustn’t be wrong to feel pleased with his employee. After all, you were the ace up his sleeve.

The meeting was held in the same hotel from almost a week ago. Sylus signals with a nod to follow him, which you do. He leads you in a room that would seem pretty cozy – as cozy as it could be in a hotel in the N109 Zone – if it weren’t for the two guys that were already sitting at the table and their bodyguards behind them.

The one whom you guessed to be the boss, looked intimidating – black hair that was kept in place by too much gel, a big nose in the center of his face and lips that were too thin and slim. His eyes got a glint of mischief when looking at you, they trailed over your body in a way that made your stomach want to get out through your throat. His body was too buff for the suit he wore.

Next to this man, was another that looked sickly – pale with long limbs, dark circles under his brown eyes that were partially masked by his round glasses. Blonde hair that looked messy fell in curls on his forehead.

None of them looked trustworthy.

“Good evening, Mr. Sylus! I see you brought a friend”, the buff man says with a tone that perhaps held a little too much arrogance. “Quite the beautiful lady.”

Sylus pulls a chair for you then sits down himself, next to you, taking space not only with his body, but his aura. The air felt a little electric around him, your senses picking up danger flowing of off him just like his intoxicating perfume.

“You may start”, is the only thing he tells them.

Without other setbacks they start presenting what they called ‘very very high grade protocores’ that were obtained in their labs – those didn’t look very high grade. They then started to present the weapons they used them on, how they were the best on the market and so on and so forth. Half way in their speech you zoomed out for a while. The deal was quite simple to understand – they were selling the protocores, weapons and some labs. But there was some missing plot in their fairytale.

The labs were supposed to be very safe and have top technology. Especially, if they used it to enhance and put into weapons as advanced as they were claiming. The personnel of the labs should be composed of top-notch scientists for everything to go this well. Looking at them and what they brought… this was very unlikely. Not to say how much it would cost to have one such lab…

At your core, you were a very logic person or, at least, that’s what you wanted to believe. So, if someone says something, they should bring proof. If you want to sell something that promises so much, you should prove that it’s so efficient – reports. You bet that the blonde guy was one of those so called ‘scientists’ and the files in front of him are the reports regarding the protocores and weapons. You would love to read those.

It wasn’t only the useless talk that wore your patience thin, but the looks the buff man gave you. Your suit and turtleneck were nothing short of decent. He was looking at you like you wore a minidress and poured chocolate on yourself.

Sylus sits relaxed in his seat looking at you from time to time. Your face gives away no emotion, but your eyes were talking. He could see that discomfort was starting to make itself known inside of you by the way you were blinking less, your eyes locked on those two morons in front. The white-haired man wanted to see your assertiveness, how you bite while keeping your voice low.

He knew the deal was bullshit, but he wanted to see you work, keep afloat and ultimately win. He needed to get you out of your shell.

“I think my friend has something to say”, are the words that slip past Sylus’s lips, slightly mortifying you.

“I think that some written proof of this efficiency would make what you say more believable.”, you say trying to keep your composure.

The blonde looks unsettled at his boss who no longer looks at you with perverted thoughts. A scowl blooms on his face.

“How about a pretty girl like you just listens to what us men talk? Stress causes wrinkles, I heard”

“It seems that you might know more about wrinkles than protocores. This doesn’t raise your credibility, though.”

A chuckle can be heard from your left from Sylus.

You don’t know what look did Sylus give them, however it doesn’t really matter as the files find themselves in your hands.

It takes a while to understand them completely, but when you do… they are laughable.

“It might have been alright, if what you’ve brought here today was the real thing, but…reading this I see that you are still making mistakes that are weird for such good scientists. The major problem – actually, one of the major problems – is that you are altering them in unsafe conditions at unsafe rates. You are forcing low grade ones to try and pass them as high grade, while making them unstable. These are real time bombs, nothing else."

Your words sealed their fate. Not only was the deal a bad one, but their intent was to fool him. That wouldn’t do.

Sylus signaled you to leave, which you are very happy to. There are no questions about what happened after you left as gunshots were heard down the hall.

--------

tags: @m00njinnie @allura-miss @phisen

[multi-fandom-imagine]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 || 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ||

A/n: Thunderbolts got me in a choke hold

It was a spur of the moment type thing, something Bucky wouldn't have said yes to if it wasn't for you and so here he was at the base of some Mountain hiking trail with a pack slung over his shoulder.

“You sure you’re up for this?” he asked, voice warm and teasing.

You rolled your eyes, feigning offense. “Are you kidding? You think just because you’re a super soldier, I can’t keep up?”

Bucky chuckled, the sound echoing through the stillness. “Never said that, doll.” He leaned closer, his gloved hand brushing against yours. “Just don’t want you passing out halfway up.”

You smirked, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Oh, I can handle it, Barnes. Can you?”

It was a long one

There was a time or two we felt like giving up

A groan left your lips as you continued to trudge up the mountain path, your feet catching over a branch, your arms flailing as Bucky quickly caught you.

"Careful, wouldn't want you to roll down the Mountain." Bucky teased though both of your breaths caught in your throat as the leaves of the tree swayed in the breeze.

But every fall and every stumble made us.Stop and see the wonder.

Grinning up at him and a new found energy you wove your fingers through his and tugged him forward to the top as a laugh escaped your lips.

With your hand in mine we pushed on towards the top

Why do people climb mountains?

Is it just to reach the top and see the view?

Bucky gave your hand a gentle squeeze, he looked you over. His heart was pounding in his chest for an entirely different reason. It did not matter for all the rocks he stumbled over, for every river you'd stop and look over, for every sore he get's on his feet or any splinter on his hand, he'd climb every mountain with you.

Well I'll tell you something

Every rock and every river

Every sore and every splinter

I would climb every mountain with you

It was the thunder that started to roll in that drew both of your attention and thankfully you both managed to slip under a small gazebo until it started to pour.

Well the clouds rolled in

There was lightning there was thunder there was rain

As we hid beneath our shelter,All the doubts that we had felt.

Came pouring in as a flood we had to face.

Biting your lip, you two watched the rain as a light giggle escaped your lips as you stretched your hand out feeling it patter against your skin then soon you darted out from under the shelter as you started to dance, Bucky not farm from behind you as you both swayed in the rain.

Then came the sunshine

The clouds rolled back and color filled the earth

And the rain had brought the flowers

You could sit and stare for hours

And the toil and the struggle showed its worth

Bubbles of laughter were still leaving your lips as you and Bucky ran up the Mountain path and then came the sunshine, the cloud's rolling back as warmth enveloped your skin.

Bright flowers blooming on the path the higher you both got to the peak. Hearts pounding as Bucky bent down picking wild flowers when you finally reached the top.

"It's beautiful." You whispered.

"Ya, you are." Bucky smiled as he placed the wild flowers in your hair. He then cupped your cheek letting his thumb graze the skin as he pulled you in for another dance across the soft grass.

Your laughter and his ringing through out the Mountain top.

We climbed a mountain

And I picked wildflowers and put 'em in her hair

And at the top we found a meadow

And danced barefoot in the grass

And I'm not lying there were bluebirds in the air

[silens-oro]

I have a toddler niece and her mannerisms are so cute, she's like in that stage where she's walking/not talking only sounds/wants independence, smiles and laughes and dang its so cuteeee to see her little personailty forming--she's a literal menace, soooo much energy.

SOooo with that how do Toddler Thalia and Pope interact?

I imagine she unintentionally does stuff (pulls out herbs he justttt planted) that gets on his nerves but he's very patient with her because he doesn't want to dim her inquistive nature. And they have rituals she needs to do --like she needs her daddy to do nightime bath time or she fusses. And she wants to have calm down time where she reads books to her dad --its just her pointing and garbling as he turns pages with their heads pressed together ...omg so cute

My nieces are teens now and I genuinely miss their toddler days because they were silly as hell.

Toddler Thalia knows every single button to push with Pope and she also knows exactly what she’s able to get away with. Hawk is the one who has to hold the line with it comes to discipline because Pope will fold like a lawn chair. It’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when and Thalia knows that.

That’s not to say that Pope is a complete pushover for her. He does hold his ground when it comes to things that he knows she needs developmentally, but the stuff that ultimately doesn’t matter in the long run? He folds.

Neither of them are yelling type of parents, but they treat corrections very seriously because they are raising a future adult who needs to know right from wrong. They both got a taste of what’s to come from Lena, granted she was older than a toddler when she started living with them, but Pope transferred all of the routines he had with her over to Thalia (because in Lena’s words “I’m too old for bedtime stories, Uncle Pope.” It KILLED him when it happened. Hawk had to console him when he told her what happened. Hawk loathed to think of how he’d be when they eventually had an empty nest, but that was many years in the future.).

Pope is the type of parent to let her try and fail, or try and succeed, so she can learn. Hawk just wants to make sure Thalia doesnt hurt herself, but knows Pope is there to supervise. It’s the times she is out of sight that makes Hawk nervous because Thalia is FAST. They had to put a child safety lock on the door to the garage after she decided when wanted to work on mama’s plants and Pope did his best not to lose it and to get everything back in order before Hawk got home.

Hawk had her set routines with Thalia, and so did Pope. But when there was a crossover, Thalia did not like it at all.

“Me and daddy go. School.” She, in fact, did take Lena to school with Pope every morning. It was her favorite thing to do because that meant Pope would take her to the park for about an hour after so she could run off some of her energy so she’d be ready for her usual nap time.

“Not today, baby. You have a doctor’s appointment.” Then she’d give Hawk the Pope look (Hawk could NOT take it seriously but Thalia would get even more pissed off if Hawk so much as snickered in response so she had to keep it in) and wouldn’t say a peep until she saw her father later in the day, who had to explain to her that sometimes things didn’t happen the same way she’s used to and that she’d have to adjust because life happens. And Thalia would give him the look and it was like he was staring into a mirror.

Thalia, in mannerisms and in spirit, was very much a Cody.

[infinitie]

Satoru remains at odds with his heart's desire and the reality of the situation. Desperate as he is for the comfort of the old Suguru, the Suguru now isn't one to give it up so easily – if at all, despite the way that he'd seen him falter for just a moment. He sensed it, and perhaps had chased it too fervently, because that moment ended too soon for Satoru, and he's left wanting, grasping for at the air it once occupied. But Satoru can come to terms with it – as long as Suguru can be his for a little while.

Satoru scoffs… but he gets it, understanding the literal and metaphorical space that Suguru is trying to put between them. Every bit of this is wrong – why shouldn't he? Satoru’ll respect it, even though Suguru’s next actions seem to contradict it. He allows him to pull his jacket off, watching as it falls to the floor in a crumpled pile. The hand that Satoru kept at the small of Suguru’s back lifts to hover over the straps that keep Suguru’s Gojo-kesa together ( what an apt thing to wear, he thinks to himself. ) His fingers slip beneath the string, tugging to undo it and the front of it falls to the floor alongside his jacket. He searches Suguru’s expression to see if that was an okay thing to do. He doesn't move to remove any other articles of clothing. This was an eye for an eye, after all. 

“I'm not asking you to show me your redeeming qualities. I'm asking for you to give me all of you – especially your flaws.” Satoru still doesn't chase after Suguru. His now empty fingers twitch from the loss of contact, and curl into a fist against Suguru’s chest, trembling, despite himself. 

“If that's not what this is, then tell me what any of this is… I don't care about anything except you right now. Just… don't leave me again, Suguru. Not like this.” 

I'm at your mercy, aren't I? So let me have it. 

He did care about saving him, lifting that execution order from his head with all the power he has as the head representative of the Gojo clan; but Satoru can't save what doesn't want to be saved. He can hardly change his mind when it's made up like this… so he won't. He can scarcely reconcile with it, and it makes him even more desperate for Suguru’s borrowed time. But he knows that some part of Suguru wants him too, the part of him that reciprocated the kiss and allowed him to come so close – the part of him that knew he'd arrived at his temple; Satoru hadn't bothered masking his cursed energy. 

“If you want me to go, I'm gone.” He draws his hand away. “But say the word, and I'll stay.” 

@lustraveil

He doesn't outwardly flinch at Satoru's words, not to the visible human eye anyway. But inward? He can feel everything tighten with discomfort at the confession. His gaze traces every word, maintaining his composure. But even so... for someone who'd been quite good at maintaining his composure through death, isolation, betrayal... it's Satoru's vulnerable pleading that unsettles him.

Suguru wants to shut it down the moment he hears it. The tightening ache panging in his stomach tenses even more when Satoru's grip tightens and the other moves to pull him closer. This time, Suguru doesn't lean into it. He sighs instead, a little annoyed. Not at him, but at this. The whole thing. A stark difference remains between them. His jaw ticks a little, his gaze which had softened in the warmth of the kiss.. narrows again but this time with discomfort and aggravation. Because he doesn't want to hear this. Not from him. Not like this.

"Stop." he finally says, having lost passion of any sort in his tone. "Don't do that." he lets out a breath, now more or less frustrated with himself for letting this get this far. Too real. "Don't say things like that and expect them to mean something to me." Not anymore. With that, Suguru slips his hand from Satoru's grip, finger by finger, until there's a literal and figurative space between them. A detachment. While it isn't rejection, per se... it says enough.

"If you're looking for any redeeming qualities..." he says, gaze finally lifting to meet his. brushing a hand to Satoru's chest as if to gently push him back, "You're going to be disappointed." But even now.. he can't entirely push him away. His hands rest against his chest for a moment longer, fingers curling slightly against his jacket, before slowly moving to slip it down his shoulders. It's not so much making a move on him, but an act of distancing him. He eases the edge of his jacket down, slowly pushing it off, the gesture still quiet, "This isn't that," he continues, eyes lowering as he smooths the fabric aside, "And you know it." He finally lifts his eyes again. Truthfully, he has no intention of getting Satoru's hopes up, and wanted to manage his expectations. Even if it comes off cold. Because still, he doesn't step away completely. He tilts his head, studying him for a moment, no less distant ...

so either stop looking at me like I'm something you can save... or stay here and let it be what it is.

Suguru doesn't elaborate. He doesn't need to. They've always spoken in their silences, just as much in dialogue. Because for all his harsh and cold words he's still here. and that in itself, is something Satoru has always known how to read.

@infinitie

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

I’m the anon who sent you that ask about Sonic and Shadow’s relationship in the Chronic Sonic au. If your post saying you ignore long asks was directed at me, can you please just… post the latest version without answering? I would prefer to save it to my likes and maybe have other fans read my thoughts.

thank you

Well no, it wasn’t just directed at you, there are a couple long asks in my inbox (some of which are positive and very beloved and i cherish, Dopambles I’m looking at you <3). But you’ve sent your ask twice now and this one too so I’ll answer this one. I don’t really want to make this a big long thing, but I also don’t really wanna leave ya hanging when this seems so important to you so lets do this (everyone else can ignore this if ya want I’m going long-winded through everything.)

So, reasons i don’t like to respond to or even post long asks sometimes lets do this [cracks knuckles]

1. I don’t like posting things onto my blog that I haven’t checked over first. I struggle a lot in reading and comprehending long asks. I don’t know why, it’s weird, okay. Let’s leave it at that. I’m not gonna blindly post walls of texts to my blog without checking them over first, because I want to make sure I’m filtering asks so nothing harmful gets posted to my blog. You’d be surprised at how whack a lot of anons can get. Not to say your ask was whack, but I also am struggling to read it so it’s hard to say for sure! It’s not due to the nature of your ask, it is simply because my brain be like dat.

2. Sometimes, I just don’t like having to scroll through walls of texts that aren’t my own to get to my latest posts. I get a lot of asks as it is. I do love answering them, but when they get long, the amount of time it takes to scroll through em makes it hard to refer back to my previous posts and is just is not intuitive or fun when interacting with my own blog, which leads me to my next point

3. This is my space. My blog is by me for me. I choose to post and share to interact and have fun with other people but at the end of the day this blog is my space. I did not create it for anyone other than me. I welcome the people who find joy in my stories here, but this remains my space. If i was being paid for this it’d be different, I’d absolutely curate and change things to make it a better and easier experience for those that i charged to be here, but like… I’m not being paid for this? And to ask me to do what you want in my space so that you can have the experience you want is… i dunno it sounds a little entitled. (I’m not saying that you ARE entitled, only that it sounds like it to me personally.) Contacting me even after I expressed my difficulty in answering asks to try and convince me to post it for your sake is a little rude. I’m not a professional creator, I’m not a person with fans, I’m just a random dude trying to have a good time with other people on a dumpster-fire website. I’m not a creator trying to make sure everyone else is having a good time. This is what i do in my free time to relax and—

4. —being a moderator for other peoples hc’s and conversations is not personally relaxing to me. My blog is not a public confessions blog and I am not a public message board. I am honoured when people share their personal stories and how what I doodle has helped them feel seen and that things will be okay, but I’m not a place for other people to come say what they want to each other, I’m a person, not a message board. How other people use Tumblr is up to them, however, I am not going to change how I use tumblr so that you can have a better experience when it will make the experience worse for me.

5. If i answer asks, I don’t draw. And I like drawing. If I’m posting asks (even without answering them) and stressing about being the middle man in conversations that I will have to regulate to make sure conversations stay kind, that takes a lot of time and energy and I got so incredibly burnt out when i tried to do that. So i stopped. And I will not be starting up again simply so you can have a good time, because I will have a bad one. And this is my space to not have a bad time. If something stresses me out, I will not do it here, it is as simple as that. I have my whole irl to be stressed about.

These are some of the reasons I don’t like to post long asks. I have notified you that I struggle to read, I don’t understand why you continue pushing. I have amazing anon’s who send wonderful long asks who have been kind and considerate with me about my struggles reading and processing. They continue to send their wonderful asks and have assured me it’s okay if I never post them. I am confused as to why you cannot seem to respect my decision as well.

The final reason regarding my hesitance in posting your ask in particular is simply that your hc was not accurate to how I was aiming to portray the characters in the current timeline. You are more than welcome to hc and speculate, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, but I cannot simply post it without answering it like you suggest because I would need to clarify that it’s not true. When I used to do that, people would start to misinterpret my au’s and it stressed me out. It takes hours for me to write up responses to things sometimes because I want to make sure I’m being kind and thoughtful and accurate. I am honoured that you shared something personal but what you wrote is simply not where the characters are at right now. It could be them in the future, but it is still early in the au so that kind of resentment hasn’t set in yet. Shadow is hurting because he’s taking the brunt of Sonic’s negativity but he is resigned to it because for him nothing else matters as long as Sonic stays alive, even if he has to be the person Sonic hates in all this and that is heavy. He’s angry at him when he does not take care of himself, but he is not resentful. Sonic struggles with being a burden on all of his friends, not just Shadow. The way you described the relationship was closer to how Tails and Sonic interact than Shadow and Sonic and even then, there’s more going on that I just don’t have the time or energy to really walk through. And besides, I want to save that energy to draw out things later.

As i shared with another commenter who asked something similar, I can absolutely DM you your ask back if you want to save it. However I don’t understand why you need me to post it to save it your likes if you simply want to save it. You have your own blog you can post it to. Why does it need to be on my blog? Why do I have to do extra work so you can have an easier time to do what you want? I am very grateful for your interaction and love of my comic, and I understand it’s frustrating when people make things harder for you to have a good time, but that’s exactly what you’re doing to me by asking me to change how I use tumblr to suit your wants instead of what is easiest for me. I am not a public service you pay for. I am a person, a full time student with family issues, struggling siblings that I’m trying to help, a person who is struggling myself. I have a limited amount of energy in a day, I get tired quickly. If i want to continue to find joy in drawing I have to set boundaries. You may not always know why someone does something, I guarantee there is more here that I will not share because it is personal. Sometimes you just have to be okay with not knowing, you have to be okay not understanding, and you have to be okay without an explanation that makes sense to you. All you need to do is understand that often times there is a reason people behave the way they do. It’s not a reflection on you or their opinion of you, it is simply many other factors at play that lead to such an outcome.

I sincerely hope this did not offend you, I am not angry with you, nor do I wish for any of this to be taken as scolding or upset you. If it has come across that way, I apologize. I am sorry I am not in a state to give you what you want, and I’m thankful for your patience with me in reading through this and I hope it is enough to at least paint a little bit of a picture as to why I will not be posting your ask. It’s unfortunate that I ended up spending hours addressing this anyway both to you and to another commenter—the very thing I wanted to avoid—but I value you as a person and did not want to leave you feeling negatively if I could change that. I hope this does not affect your enjoyment or experience with how you were having fun with my au, and if it does I am deeply regretful. However, I do have to set boundaries and make sure I’m doing okay or there would be no AU at all. Thanks for your understanding and I hope you have a day as kind as you are.

[skrunksthatwunk]

how do i tell my roommate that her cat repeatedly pissing on and destroying my things is something that people usually offer to clean or replace or apologize for instead of shrugging off

[puppppppppy]

ive made myself more wet and pathetic

[britneyshakespeare]

i love bratz as dolls but i fuckin hate mga as a brand. fuckin idiots

[mimiyanna]

Chat I am so fucking sleepy and worn down by life and work and the need to always, always, be giving so much effort... I think I may just pass away. It's too much...

[heyitslapis]

I don't have time for people who don't have time for me

I don't have time for people who don't have time for me

I don't have time for people who don't have time for me

[microwavepopcorn]

[seilon]

you know im realizing now. with the exception of a few resident psychiatrists, ive had like. no good experiences with mental health professionals