#and Ben also struggles with dealing with his mistakes

[afinestoutlove]

things i love about heartstopper 1/?

I fucking love the way Nick doesn't get defensive about his feelings for Charlie. This is huge for a boy in this kind of culture, especially Nick who until this point has been repressing so much of himself in order to fit in with “normal” guys.

We see what can happen with Ben. He resents Charlie for making him feel this way. He hates himself and he can’t deal with it, he doesn’t know how to handle it, and he punishes Charlie for it.

But Nick goes the opposite way. He's scared, he runs away, he makes mistakes, but he always knows those are his fears and not Charlie's fault. He keeps trying to do better, to do right by Charlie. He keeps being friends with Charlie even after he realises he likes him. He learns to stand up to his friends and challenge their behaviour, not only because he cares about Charlie, but he also learns from him. He learns that he’s been wrong to accept that behaviour and he needs to do better. He changes his own behaviour because he cares about Charlie and because he wants to be better for himself.

I think it's also a really important part of Nick’s story that he’s not just learning and growing for Charlie, he’s doing it for himself too. He’s becoming a person he wants to be and can be proud of. Yes, Charlie’s a huge part of that. He helped Nick realise all the things he was accepting that he shouldn’t, partly because Nick had to face a lot of it as a result of realising he was bi, partly cos Charlie's so different from the rugby lads and offers an alternative way to be in the world. But even though he is doing it for Charlie a lot of the time, Nick is also becoming a better person because it’s who he wants to be for himself.

I think that’s partly why it’s so important for Nick to say “I love liking you”. It's important for Charlie to hear, yes. But it's also super important for Nick to say for himself. It’s so opposite to Ben, who hated himself for liking Charlie and hated Charlie for it too. Even though it was hard for Nick, he never saw it as a bad thing. Yeah, it was hard. And he struggled. But it was worth it to him. It’s so fucking important.

[ohquail]

SBG as Voltron AU

Friends that wanted to be tagged: @blue-eyed-moon-child @niredsw @random-gamer1942

The roles

Black Lion: Tyler He's very much leadership material and with Ashlyn as Allura, it gives Tyler the perfect opportunity to be leader when she's not around yet give her the ability to run things like she does in the comic and Allura does in the show.

Blue Lion: Taylor She's thoughtful, caring, puts others first, like Lance did with everyone (LANCE STOP GETTING HURT), and Allura did at the end of the show.

Red Lion: Aiden Very loose and fast, likes to live on edge, very much a second hand man and doesn't take leadership even when he could, allowing Tyler and Ashlyn to take over. But also protective of everyone, like Keith is of Shiro and King Alfor was of Allura.

Green Lion: Logan Probably the smartest in the group when it comes to school like things. I think that he would struggle in the same way Pidge did when connecting to nature, in the "I like being inside but if I have to connect to the tree I will"

Yellow Lion: Ben Big guy, smart, compassionate, thoughtful, just like Hunk and Gyrgan.

Ashlyn is Allura Ashlyn is Allura because she fits the role of Red as much as Aiden does. So when/if Aiden gets the Keith running off to galra arc, Ashlyn gets the red lion :D

Alex is Coran

Maverick is Zarkon

Ryan is Thace

Jasmine is Haggar (without the weird, being honerva bit? like no romantic feelings please)

Charlie is Sendak (Maybe I'll draw these later)

Continue for Chapter 1: (This will be a continuing series & I will be splitting episodes into one-two chapters depending on length)

“You come up here to rock out?” Aiden asked, removing Logan’s headphones slightly. Logan jumped, whipping around to see who was behind him. “Oh, Aiden, Ben.” Logan greeted with a sigh of relief, “No, um, just looking at the stars,”

Aiden and Ben exchanged a glance. "Stars?" Aiden echoed, lifting his gaze to the empty canvas of the sky. "It's a little cloudy tonight, don't you think?"

Logan shrugged, “So?” “Where'd you get this stuff? It doesn't look like Garrison tech.” Aiden frowned, giving Logan a confused look. “I built it,” Logan sat up proudly and grinned at Aiden and Ben. “You built all of this?” Aiden asked as Ben bent down to touch one of the pieces of equipment. Logan reached over and gently smacked Ben’s hand away, “Stop it!” He turned his attention back to Aiden, “With this thing, I can scan all the way to the edge of the solar system.” “That right?” Aiden asked, a smug grin on his face, “Would you say, all the way to Kerberos?” Logan froze, slightly glaring at Aiden. “You go ballistic every time the instructors bring it up.”

Logan glared at Aiden. The blonde continued, “What's your deal?”

Ben reached towards Logan’s equipment again. “Second warning Ben!” Logan turned and scolded.

“Look, Logan, if we're going to bond as a team, we can't have any secrets.” Aiden squatted down to Logan’s eye level. Logan sighed, “Fine. The world as you know it is about to change. The Kerberos Mission wasn't lost because of some malfunction or crew mistake.” Ben reached over to touch Logan’s computer. “Stop touching my equipment!” Logan demanded.

Ben made a face of disgust before sitting back and nodding that he’d listen this time. Logan continued, “So, I've been scanning the system and picking up alien radio chatter,” “I’m sorry what?” Aiden asked, blinking in disbelief. “Aliens? Really?” Logan nodded.

“So, you're insane. Got it.” Ben’s phone spoke out for him. “I'm serious.” Logan promised, “They keep repeating one word, ‘Voltron.’ And tonight, it's going crazier than I have ever heard it.”

“What is Voltron?” Aiden asked as if Logan had all the answers.

“I have no clue,” Logan gave a helpless shrug.

Suddenly the PA activated, “Attention, students. This is not a drill. We are on lockdown! Security situation Zulu Niner.” The gentleman on the comms instructed, “Repeat: all students are to remain in barracks until further notice.” “What's going on?” Aiden asked, a frown as he looked up at the PA system. “Is that a meteor?” Logan asked, squinting through his glasses. “A very, very big meteor?” Aiden asked, in disbelief as he turned back around. Logan grabbed his binoculars from his bag and held them up to his face. “No. It's a ship,” Logan looked slightly panicked. Aiden grabbed the binoculars and pointed them at the sky. “Holy crow! I can't believe what I'm seeing! That's not one of ours.” “No. It’s one of theirs,” Logan shook his head and started packing up his stuff. “Where are you going? We’re under lock down,” Aiden furrowed his brow in confusion and upset.

“I've got to see that ship,” Logan told Aiden, grabbing his binoculars back before dipping over the short edge of the building they were on. Aiden watched for a moment as Logan hit the ground and started running towards the airship that had now crashed into the ground. “Come on Ben,” Ben grabbed Aiden’s arm before the blonde jumped off the building after Logan. “This is the worst team-building exercise ever,” He had typed into his phone. It read the message out loud before Aiden laughed and turned to jump off the building.

The sound of multiple Garrison vehicles departing to the crash site erupted from the building just before Aiden landed with a thud on softened earth, a cloud of dust billowing around him. Ben touched down more gracefully, landing on the balls of his feet. His eyes remained focused on Logan's receding form.

——— As soon as they approached the crash site, Ben and Aiden noticed that Logan had set up his computer behind a rock formation. Aiden and Ben ran over and crouched down with Logan. “What are you doing?” Aiden asked, looking over Logan’s shoulder to see the computer. “Trying to hack into their security cameras,” Logan shushed Aiden with his finger. “You can do that?” Ben’s phone spoke out for him. “Yeah,” Logan answered without anymore explanation. Aiden and Ben glanced at each other with concerned emotions etched onto their faces. “They set up a camera in there and I grabbed its feed.” Logan moved the computer for Ben and Aiden to both see.

“Look!” Aiden pointed at the screen at a teenage boy struggling against restrains. A staticky voice came through the feed, “Hey! What are you doing?” The boy asked, continuing to struggle. The head of cadet training, Iverson, motioned for two people in hazmat suits to hold the boy down. “Calm down, Tyler. We just need to keep you quarantined until we run some tests,” Tyler continued to struggle against the people in hazmat suits, “You have to listen to me! They destroy worlds!” He grunted as one of the people threw his shoulder into the table, “Aliens are coming!” “That's Tyler! The pilot of the Kerberos Mission! That guy was in our class!” Aiden looked completely shocked.

Ben watched the video feed for a moment longer, his fingers quickly tapping on the screen of his phone. “Guess he's not dead in space, after all,” the robotic voice echoed around him.

“But where's the rest of the crew?” Logan asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he scanned the screen for the other crew members.

“Do you know how long you've been gone?” Iverson asked Tyler. Tyler shot Iverson a disgusted look, “I don't know. Months? Years? Look, there's no time. Aliens are coming here for a weapon.” Tyler continued to ramble, “They're probably on their way. They'll destroy us. We have to find Voltron!” “Voltron?” Logan asked, staring at the screen in disbelief.

“Put him under,” Iverson instructed, “Until we figure out more,” Tyler freaked out, “Don't put me under! No! There's no time!” He assured them but one of the hazmat suited people stuck a needle into his arm.

The trio outside the tent watched as Tyler drifted off to sleep. “They didn't ask about the rest of the crew.” Logan frowned. “Why didn’t they ask about the rest of the crew?” “What are they doing? He's a legend. They're not even gonna listen to him?” Aiden exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“We have to get him out.” Logan decided, shutting his computer and stashing it into his backpack. Before Aiden and Logan could jump the gun and rush into the tent to save Tyler, Ben held up a hand as he tried to quickly type out his thoughts. “I hate to be the voice of reason, always, but weren't we watching on Logan’s computer because there was no way to get past the guards?” “That was before we were properly motivated,” Logan assured Ben with a pat on the shoulder before a large explosion rang out on the opposite side of the canyon.

“Is that the aliens? Are they here? They got here so quick!” Ben’s phone rang out after a moment. “No, those explosions were a distraction, for him.” Aiden pointed at a hooded figure parking a hover bike before they rushed into the tent where the Garrison was keeping Tyler.

“The Garrison's headed toward the blast, and he's sneaking in from the other side.” Aiden frowned.

“Who is that?” Ben’s phone asked before Logan and Aiden both jumped over the wall. “Only one way to find out!” Logan called up to the tall boy before the blonde and brunette started to sprint towards the tent.

Ben hesitated, glanced toward the distant explosion once more, then sprinted after them, his phone clutched tight in one hand.

Inside the tent, Tyler was still unconscious, his face pale against the cold metal table. Two people in hazmat suit were examining the unconscious boy as the hooded person walked into the tent. “These readings are off the chart,” One man said before the other noticed the hooded figure. “HEY!” The man shouted, pointing a gloved finger at the intruder.

But the hooded figure moved with a speed that didn’t seem quite possible. They knocked the two men unconscious swiftly and efficiently before rushing over to the table and yanking off their hood. “Tyler?” Taylor asked, her eyes seemingly playing a trick on her. She unbuckled her twin brother from the table before wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “Nope.” Aiden walked in with Logan right on his tail. “No, you— No, no, no. No, you don't. I'm saving Tyler,” “Who are you?” Taylor asked, before looking at Logan. “Logan?” “Hi Taylor,” Logan waved before looking around the tent. “Where’s the rest of the crew?” “No time for that! We need to get out of here before the Garrison grumps come back,” Aiden insisted.

Text from Logan’s phone rang out in the silence. “They’re on their way back. Now.” Logan pointed at the entrance where they had left Ben on look out.

Taylor glared at them, her eyes flitting between Aiden and Logan. But she could feel Tyler sagging against her, his breaths ragged. “Come on,” Taylor sighed, motioning with her free hand for Aiden to walk with her.

Logan followed after them, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder. "We're coming out," Logan sent a message to Ben, who was still outside the tent. As soon as they got outside, all 5 of them loaded onto Taylor’s hover bike, “Can we catch a ride with you? Thanks!” Aiden smiled at the hispanic girl as he climbed up on the bike after her.

“Is this thing going to be big enough for all of us?” Logan asked, as Aiden handed him Tyler. “No,” Taylor started the bike and took off as the Garrison professors and admin started to approach the tent. “Why am I holding this guy?” Logan asked, adjusting Tyler’s weight on him but careful not to let the boy fall off the bike.

“Can't this thing go any faster?” Aiden questioned, with a judgmental tone.

“We could toss out some non-essential weight,” Taylor shot back with a smirk on her face.

“Oh, right!” Aiden looked around for something to toss off the bike, “Okay, so that was an insult.” “Big guy! Lean left!” Taylor instructed to Ben. Ben leaned as instructed. His silent compliance added a much-needed stability to their chaotic escape. Tyler groaned softly in Logan's arms, stirring but not waking.

“Aw, man! Mr. Harris just wiped out Professor Montgomery! No, no. He's fine,” Logan assured the rest of the group. Taylor rolled her eyes.

“Big guy, lean right!” Taylor instructed Ben again and he did as he was told. “Guys? Is that a cliff up ahead?” Logan asked with stammer in his voice.

“Oh, no, no, no!” Aiden protested. “Yup,” Taylor smirked and pressed on the gas pedal. “No, no, no!” Logan and Aiden screamed as the bike approached the edge of the cliff.

“What are you doing? You're going to kill us all!” Logan asked, regret of this adventure seeping into his voice. “Shut up and trust me!” Taylor commanded, her grip tightening on the handlebars. As their speed increased, the ground beneath them dropped away and for a moment they were suspended in air.

————— In the morning, Taylor walked out to where Tyler had been admiring the sunset. “Hey Ty,” She greeted her brother.

"Hey Tay," Tyler responded, not taking his eyes off the horizon. He was sitting on a rock, legs folded beneath him in criss cross applesauce.

“It's good to have you back,” Taylor moved and sat down next to Tyler.

Tyler turned and looked at her with a faint smile on his face. “It's good to be back,” Taylor smiled back before laying into the questions, “So, what happened out there? Where were you?”

“I wish I could tell you, Tay. My head is still pretty scrambled from the whole experience,” Tyler shook his head softly. “I was on an alien ship, but somehow I escaped. It's all a blur. But, how did you know to come save me when I crashed?” “You should come see this,” Taylor stood up and offered Tyler her hand.

——— “What have you been working on, Taylor?” Tyler asked as Taylor yanked a cloth off the cork board on the wall. Logan, Aiden and Ben paused what they were doing and looked over at the twins.

“I can't explain it, really,” Taylor looked at the bulletin board, “After getting booted from the Garrison, I was kind of lost and found myself drawn out to this place. It's like something some energy, was telling me to search,” “Search for what?” Aiden asked. “Well, I didn't really know at the time until I stumbled across this area,” Taylor pointed at a picture that was almost out of her reach, “It's an outcropping of giant boulders with caves covered in these ancient markings. Each tells a slightly different story about a blue lion, but they all share clues leading to some event, some arrival happening last night,” She turned to Tyler, “Then, you showed up.” A thought dawned on Tyler, “I probably should thank you all for helping Tay get me out of there,” He extended his hand towards Aiden. “Aiden, right?”

Aiden nodded and took Tyler’s hand in his. After a firm handshake, Tyler moved to Logan and Ben. “The quiet guy is Ben. I’m Logan. So, did anyone else from your crew make it out?” “Uh, I’m not sure. Everything is a bit of a daze still,” Tyler frowned, “Sorry,” “It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Logan assured Tyler.

Ben typed up something on his phone, “Yeah, sorry to interrupt, but back to the aliens. Where are they now? Are they coming? Are they coming for us? Where are they at this very moment?” Everyone chuckled at the automated voice messing up a few words at the general repetitiveness of the message. “I can't really put it together. I remember the word ‘Voltron.’ It's some kind of weapon they're looking for, but I don't know why,” Tyler paused, “Whatever it is, I think we need to find it before they do.” Ben quickly typed up another message, “Well, last night, I was rummaging through Logan’s stuff, and-” “Why were you going through my stuff?” Logan asked, cutting off the automated voice. Ben rolled his eyes softly before typing out a new message and letting it play. “I watched a lady bug crawl in. But, then, I started reading his diary.” “What?” Logan asked, grabbing the book Ben pulled out of his pocket away from the taller boy. Ben’s message kept playing out of the phone, “I noticed the repeating series of numbers the aliens are searching for -looks a lot like a Fraunhofer line.” “Frown who?” Taylor asked with a frown on her face.

Ben typed a reply quickly, “It's a number describing the emission spectrum of an element, only, this element doesn't exist on Earth. I thought it might be this Voltron. I think can build a machine to look for it, like a Voltron finder,” Aiden stared at his cousin in shock as the tall boy pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. Ben typed up one more message before opening the paper up. “The wavelength looks like this.” “Give me that!” Taylor demanded before holding it up to the picture she had pointed to earlier. The two pictures, the graph and photograph, matched up perfectly.

———

“Okay, I admit it. This is super freaky.” Aiden mumbled under his breath as the group traversed the desert plateaus. “I'm getting a reading.” Taylor looked at the small device that Ben had put together and given her to read. “This way,” She pulled Logan, who’s bag was filled with the rest of the equipment and attached to the device in Taylor’s hand, in the direction of the reading.

After a while of walking, they came across a cave. Adorning the walls was several carvings, no, hundreds of carvings of a female lion.

“Whoa.” The group looked around and gasped simultaneously. Tyler turned towards Taylor, “What are these?” “These are the lion carvings I was telling you about,” Taylor assured Tyler, before dragging her hand over the dust on the wall. Immediately the carving lit up bright blue and shined in Taylor’s face. Taylor jumped back into Tyler’s arms as the ground crumbled beneath the small group. Everyone screamed as the floor collapsed and shot them down a slide like earth fixture. “TAYLOR!” Aiden complained as soon they landed. “Why do you and Ben feel the need to touch everything?” Ben turned and glared at Aiden, but remained quiet as usual. “I didn’t know that touching the wall would make the floor collapse,” Taylor told Aiden, everyone turned toward a large giant Lion with a force field. “Is this it? Is this the Voltron?” Tyler asked. “It must be,” Logan took the tracker device out of Taylor’s hand. “This is what's been causing all of this crazy energy out here.” “Looks like there's a force field around it.” Aiden point out as Taylor and he started to walk up to it.

“Does anyone else get the feeling this is staring at them?” Taylor asked, moving slightly. “No,” Tyler followed his sister and the blonde up to the lion. “Hm, yeah no. It’s definitely following me,” Taylor decided. Aiden walked up and gently put his hands on the force field. “I wonder how we get through this,” Taylor smirked as a idea popped into her head, “Maybe you just have to knock,” She rapped her fingers against the cool energy field, it immediately fell away. “AH!” Taylor jumped back slightly. A vision of a large robotic man appeared in all five kids minds. “Woah,” Logan looked up at the lion.

“Uh, did everyone just see that?” Tyler asked, rubbing his head slightly. “Voltron is a robot.” Aiden muttered as if in a trance, “Voltron is a huge, huge, awesome robot.” “And this thing is only one part of it! I wonder where the rest of them are.” Taylor mused as she walked up to the lion. “This is what they're looking for,” Tyler whispered, mostly to himself. “Incredible.” The lion stood up as Taylor approached, and Ben and Logan screamed. “Come on babies! Let’s check it out!” “Hate to be a voice of reason, like ever, but Taylor stop touching things!” Aiden ran after the girl as she darted into the Lion.

Tyler motioned for Ben and Logan to follow him after the other two. Ben typed something up on his phone quickly, “Isn’t this a bad idea?” “Yeah but it’s a fun idea, live a little,” Tyler smirked before walking up into the lion as well. Ben and Logan glanced at each other once before following Tyler into the ship. As soon as they entered the lion, Aiden turned to them. “Okay, guys, I feel the need to point out, just so that we're all aware. We are in some kind of futuristic alien cat head right now.” “Yup,” Taylor smirked, moving to sit down. She put her hands on the controls.

As soon as she did, a deep purring spoke through her head. “Woah,” She turned to the rest of the group, “Did you guys just hear that?” “Hear what?” Logan asked, looking at Taylor. Taylor looked around the small cockpit, “I think it's talking to me.” She mumbled, before moving the controls around. The lion immediately took off, and the lion shot out of the cave.

Aiden, Logan and Ben grabbed each other and screamed. Tyler started at them in disbelief for a moment before turning his attention to Taylor. “Careful Tay,” He pointed out a rock formation. Taylor responded immediately, moving the controls around to avoid the obstacle. “You are the worst pilot ever!” Logan screamed as Taylor sent the Lion into a spiral.

With an eager grin, Taylor turned to the others and exclaimed, “Isn't this awesome?” Taylor asked. “Make it stop.” Logan begged, “Make it stop,” “I’m not doing anything.” Taylor promised, “It's like it's on autopilot.” The Lion steered itself towards the atmosphere, “Where are you going?” Aiden asked, stumbling as the lion rocked violently.

“I just said it's on autopilot!” Taylor insisted, “It says there's an alien ship approaching Earth. I think we're supposed to stop it.” “What did it say, exactly?” Tyler asked, leaning forward to look out the window.

“It's not like it's saying words.” Taylor felt the eyes of all 4 boys fall onto her in disgust and disbelief, “It's more like feeding ideas into my brain, kind of.”

“If this thing is the weapon they're coming for, why don't we just, I don't know, give it to them? Maybe they'll leave us alone.” Ben’s phone read out for him. Tyler turned, offended, “You don't understand,” He assured Ben, “These monsters spread like a plague throughout the galaxy, destroying everything in their path.” Ben gulped, clearly distressed but Tyler continued, “There's no bargaining with them. They won't stop until everything is dead.” “Okay, he gets it,” Aiden defending, “Don’t lay into him like that,” They all turned to see an alien ship entering the space around Earth’s atmosphere. Taylor interrupted the boys before a huge argument could erupt, “Okay, I think I know what to do.” She pushed the controls forward and the lion shot forward into the sky.

“Hey! This isn't a simulator,” Logan reminded Taylor as the Lion reached the exosphere. “That’s good. I always crashed the simulation when I was in school,” She smirked at Logan who gave her a panicked look. “That’s not calming!” Logan told Taylor as the girl moved the controls around. “Let’s try this!” She exclaimed as she pushed the controls forward. The jaw of the lion open and a beam of energy shot out towards the alien ship. The energy beam hit the side of the alien ship, causing a series of bright, violent explosions to ripple across its metallic hull. “Nice job, Tay,” “I think it's time to get these guys away from our planet.” Taylor said, piloting the lion away from Earth. They got a good distance before the alien ship started to follow them. “Oh no,” Tyler mumbled under his breath. “They're gaining on us!” Logan panicked, pushing the back of Taylor’s seat. “It's weird. They're not trying to shoot us. They're just chasing.” Taylor observed, her fingers nimbly adjusting the controls as she kept a steady eye on the pursuing ship. Aiden put his hands up to get everyone’s attention, “Okay, seriously, now we think having aliens follow us is good? I am not on board with this new direction, guys.” “Where are we?” Ben’s phone read out, the digital voice cutting through the noise in the cockpit.

“Edge of the solar system. There's Kerberos,” Logan pointed at the moon of Pluto. “That’s impossible, it took us months to get out here,” Tyler gasped in disbelief, “We got out here in five seconds.” A spherical opening, a distorted sphere with a glowing center opened up in front of the lion. It was a good distance away but the Lion seemed to be dead set on going through.

“A wormhole of sorts, where does it go?” Logan asked Taylor, who struggled and said she didn’t know.

“Tyler, you're the senior officer here. What should we do?” Taylor looked up at her brother.

Tyler looked at the other kids, “Whatever is happening, the lion knows more than we do.” Tyler looked at Aiden, who nodded, “I say we trust it, but we're a team now. We should decide together.” Taylor glanced around, all for boys nodded at her. “Alright, guess you’re all skipping class tomorrow,” She pushed the controls forward and the Lion shot into the wormhole.

———— As they exited the wormhole, an entirely new vista unfolded before their eyes. Kaleidoscopic patterns of nebulae painted the alien sky, with twinkling stars that seemed to breathe and pulse with life. “Where are we?” Ben’s phone read out again, its digital voice sounding even more surreal amidst this cosmic seascape.

“I have no clue,” Logan answered, “I don’t recognize any of these star patterns,” “Me neither,” Tyler looked out the window at the sky. “We must be a long, long way from Earth.” The lion approached a earth like planet, “The lion seems to want to go to this planet.” Taylor told the boys, “I think I think it's going home.” The lion soared into the planet’s atmosphere, plunging through plumes of vibrant, iridescent clouds. As they broke through the final layer, a sprawling cityscape came into view, nestled amidst a lush expanse of emerald-green forests and crystalline rivers.

"Doesn't look like anything from our textbooks," Aiden remarked, his eyes wide with awe.

“Um, is it just me or is anyone else having second thoughts about flying through a mysterious wormhole? Why are we listening to a robotic lion anyway?” Logan asked as the Lion approached a castle like building. “It got us away from that alien warship, didn't it?” Taylor shot back. “I don't know if you noticed, but we're in an alien warship.” Tyler pointed out, patting Taylor on the head.

“Oh, are you scared?” Taylor teased. “With you at the helm? Terrified,” Tyler poked the side of her face before turning his attention to the castle they were approaching.

The castle was enormous, a towering structure of gleaming spires and arching buttresses that seemed to shimmer with an ethereal light. As they landed, Tyler pulled everyone’s attention to him. “No one's happy to be in this situation, but we're here now. If we want to get through this, we've got to do it together.” “Yes sir,” Aiden gave a teasing salute.

“Don’t do that,” Tyler crossed his arms.

“Look at that castle though,” Taylor got out of the pilot seat and tried to book it out of the lion. Tyler grabbed her arm and stopped her, “Keep your guard up.” “Is something wrong Tyler?” Logan asked, cautiously prodding for information. Tyler turned to him, “My crew was captured by aliens once. I'm not going to let it happen again,” As soon as the kids were out of the lion and walking up to the castle, the lion moved. “No! I knew it was going to eat us! No!” Logan screeched, covering his head with his hands. The lion roared and the entrance to the castle opened. “No, it’s just opening the door for us,” Aiden pointed out, touching Logan’s shoulder. The slightly taller boy looked up and sighed in relief. Taylor ran into the castle, “Hello?” She called out into the pitch black foyer. “Taylor! Be careful!” Tyler scolded his sister as the boys walked in after her.

“I am!” Taylor promised, “Hello? Is anyone there?” “Please hold for identity scan,” A voice called out before a beam of light scanned over the five kids.

“What? Why are we here? What do you want with us?” Logan asked as the beam stopped scanning them. Lights leading down the hall flickered on, “Guess we’re going that way,” Aiden started walking down the hall. As they all walked down the hall, the lights continued to flick on, lighting and leading their way. Eventually, they were lead to a room with two cryo-pods. Ben typed up a quick message on his phone and played it out for everyone, “Where are we?” “It's some kind of control room,” Logan observed, scanning the unfamiliar technology around them with a hit of curiosity. “Are these guys dead?” Aiden asked, tapping onto one of the cryo-pods. The pod opened with a hiss of air and a red headed girl fell out, her knees buckling as she called out, “Dad!” Aiden leaped forward and caught her, “Hello there,”

“Who are you? Where am I?” The girl asked, looking up into Aiden’s eyes. Aiden smirked, “I’m Aiden, and you’re right here in my arms,”

"Quit the flirt, Aiden. We're not in a rom-com," Tyler grumbled, stepping forward and offering a hand to the girl. “Who are you people?” The girl asked, pushing Aiden to the ground as she took Tyler’s hand. Tyler helped her up. “Where is King Mike? What are you doing in my castle? “A blue lion brought us here,” Taylor butted in. “How do you have the Blue Lion? What happened to its paladin? What are you all doing here? Unless,” She paused, “How long has it been?” “We don’t know what your talking about,” Logan said as the girl pushed away from Tyler and walked over to a small panel sticking out of the floor and started typing on it. “Why don't you tell us who you are? Maybe we can help.” Tyler suggested, sticking his hands in his shorts pockets. “I am Princess Ashlyn of Planet Altea,” Ashlyn informed the earthlings, “I've got to find out where we are and how long we've been asleep.” Logan looked over her shoulder, “Okay, that's how that works. What is that language though?” A man groaned before Ashlyn could answer. He fell out of his pod before jumping up, “Enemy combatants!” “Nope! Nope!” Taylor assured him otherwise, “We’re friendly, I promise,” The man looked skeptical but stood at ease. “It can't be.” Ashlyn gasped, covering her mouth. “What is it?” The man asked, suddenly very worried for the princess. “We've been asleep for 10,000 years.” Ashlyn stared forward, “Planet Altea and all of the planets in our solar system have been destroyed. Alex, Father is gone. Our entire civilization,”

“Maverick,” Alex shook his head is disbelief. “Maverick?” Logan asked in confusion. “He was the King of the Galra. A vile creature and enemy to all free people.” Ashlyn started to sink onto the floor. “I remember now, I was his prisoner,” Tyler crossed his arms over his chest. “He's still alive? Impossible!” Alex stared at Tyler in disbelief and distrust. “I can't explain it, but it's true,” Tyler nodded, “He's searching for a super weapon called Voltron.” Ashlyn stood back up, “He's searching for it because he knows it's the only thing that can defeat him, and that's exactly why we must find it before he does,” “We?” Aiden interrupted, “Why us?

Word Count: 5,074

[autistic-ben-tennyson]

Anakin: Why I relate to him

I’m going to change gears a bit from my usual anime/Ben 10 posts to talk about Anakin. I had a period where I pretended to hate him and was super pro Jedi to try and fit in with that fandom. I have changed a lot of my opinions since then. While I’m still not a huge fan of him, my opinion has softened greatly. A lot of Jedi stans act like all people who sympathize with him are conservatives who think you need a 50s nuclear family to be happy and hate Buddhism or aroace people. So I am going to share why I relate to this man’s struggles as a progressive, transgender neurodivergent Asian American.

A lot of people view Anakin in AOTC as just whiny and ungrateful. While the Tusken massacre was wrong, I can emphasize with his anger towards Obi Wan. I have felt belittled, over patronized and gaslit by my father, as well as yelled at. While Anakin was being disrespectful in that scene from AOTC where he reunites with Padme, the way Obi Wan handled it was uncalled for. He should have pulled Anakin aside to let him know there’s a time and place for everything, not humiliate him in front of their hosts.

I’ve made small mistakes due to my autism and dad would make a big deal out of it and tell me “we need to work on your awareness” in front of everyone there. I can also relate to that “he’s jealous! He’s holding me back” scene as someone who wants more out of life and feel like my dad is getting in my way. That scene also reminds me of how a lot of parents treat their kids for having an “attitude” or “talking back” when they’re just trying to explain themselves, are having a bad day or have a different opinion. I’ve also been forced to apologize for lashing out at people who’ve bullied me like in that comic.

When Jedi apologists talk about how Anakin was just greedy for not wanting to share his feelings with Obi Wan or the council, I get the feeling that they’ve had a fairly privileged upbringing. I’ve had trouble opening up to my dad because of how dismissive or terrifying he could be in the past. As a trans person, I’ve had to prepare for the worst possible outcomes and while my coming out went better than I expected, he just invalidated all my fears and acted like I was wrong for not telling him when he did little to provide a safe space, never apologizing for insensitive things he said. Similarly, fans expect Anakin to tell Obi Wan about his marriage despite all the dismissive behavior from him as well as faking his death and doing little to help Ahsoka. People who’ve been gaslit or dismissed for their feelings often resort to keeping secrets as a safety measure.

A child shouldn’t be expected to tell adults anything until they prove they can be trusted. Whenever I talk about my issues with my childhood, people dismiss it as legitimate discipline or tough love, which is another reason why I feel uncomfortable when Jedi apologists act like Kenobi was a good parent. People only see abuse if it’s physical or sexual, but never care or notice if it’s more subtle or emotional. Anakin recognized that Kenobi’s training methods wouldn’t be good for Ahsoka which is why he acts more like Shmi when teaching Ahsoka. My dad is also very sarcastic and is aware of my autism, even praising it at times, but expects me to just understand his “jokes” or insensitive comments.

People say you can’t critique the Jedi because they’re based off eastern philosophy but are they really that different from conservative evangelicals? Obi Wan straight up tells Anakin he can have romantic feelings but can’t act on them. Fans claim Anakin chose to get married and it was on him for not just leaving. I remember being the “weird” kid in a community that was very conservative (family, faith and football) who felt like I couldn’t talk about my interests without being shamed, especially after coming out. I can also emphasize with wanting to leave but feeling an obligation to stay because the people who’ve hurt me do love me and it being complicated.

I think a lot of people who dismiss Obi Wan’s insensitive remarks or child rearing methods are looking at it from an adult’s perspective, since they aren’t bothered by it as much. Adults can yell at, gaslight, spank or humiliate their kids, then act like nothing happened, but when you’re a child, it sticks with you, and is irritating when they try to be “buddy-buddy” with you later. I am also someone who struggles a lot with sarcasm and struggle with letting go of negative emotions because it keeps happening.

This is that post I talked about where I asked a popular Jedi stan their views on adoption. I’m not anti adoption, mind you. I felt Matilda, Suzume and Kung Fu Panda tackled it well with sensitivity. I responded with decency and acted like I agreed with them. But something about their response gave me the ick. I don’t know why but I do have a desire to find my birth mother, eventually. Is it really wrong to worry about your mother if she could be suffering, and you can’t do anything to help? It kind of confirms that a lot of Jedi apologists come from privileged upbringings. I also felt like I had to ask permission to enjoy media that went against the Jedi fandom’s beliefs.

I think that wraps up why I relate to this character even if I don’t agree with his actions. People who say he was just lazy or selfish don’t seem like they understand much about human psychology and abuse and how even “small” things can build up and make a child distrust the adults in their life. I worry a bit about when they become parents and what how their kids will end up. A lot of kids are shamed for not wanting to share their emotions when they have good reasons to keep secrets. How would Jedi stans respond to that? They only care about abuse if it’s physical which is why they make a big deal out of that training scene from TOTJ or act like Anakin abused Rex when throwing him off that wall on Geonosis.

[the-other-art-blog]

Benophie wish list: Benedict and Anthony (PART 1)

It's no secret I have my criticisms about Anthony, one of them being his treatment of Benedict. I hope we see some exploration on this relationship, especially now that Johhny Bailey called Benedict "the beating heart of the family." 🥰🥰🥰

First off, I don't think it would be easy to be Anthony's younger brother. Let's be real, he was not an easy person to love until s3, even Kate struggled. And when you are in a system like the aristocracy, it's even worse. Anthony gets all the authority just for being born first, and Benedict is automatically undervalued as the spare.

I want to be fair to both of them because they both are good people. So, if at some point you feel I'm going too hard on Anthony, I promise I'll judge Benedict too here and in other posts.

I think Ben has been accumulating a lot of frustration regarding Anthony since they were children. One of my fav scenes in First Comes the Scandal (Rokesby series #4) illustrates this relationship since childhood.

Here is Anthony (7 years old) and Benedict (5 years old):

Before this scene, Anthony and Ben are described as "little terrors" by Edmund. Yes, they have fun together and were having fun before this incident, but Anthony does something to upset Benedict every now and then.

I wonder if this is how Ben got his black eye, mentioned in To Sir Phillip with Love:

My headcanon is they were practicing boxing and it got out of hand due to some brotherly teasing gone too far. Anthony threw a punch too hard and knocked Ben down by accident. I don't think Anthony meant it, but Benedict didn't move quickly enough. I wrote a little drabble about this:

And if we remember the fencing scene in s2, Anthony is a sore loser. Benedict says that whenever Anthony doesn't win, he accuses them of cheating. We can see how he reacts when Benedict bests him at fencing and it's not very mature, because he holds all the authority granted by birthright. An aristocrat like him is used to get everything he wants and he can't even deal with his brothers.

Thankfully, by the time the show began, Benedict was old enough to fight back in his own way. Some of Benedict's best moments in s2 are when he's teasing Anthony. That is one advantage of Benedict, he can tease all he wants because he's more likable (in the story), so he gets away with it. Who doesn't love this scene:

It must have been so satisfying for Benedict to see Kate winning the argument. He loves her for putting Anthony in his place.

Of course not everything is negative and this is not a post meant to trash Anthony. Benedict also has made plenty of mistakes in this relationship. For starters, he should have helped Anthony much more in estate management. He's just a couple for years younger and he must have been trained in management, just in case. Honestly, I cannot understand how an aristocrat fills his time. What was he doing? Yes, we all have lazy days, but years? of doing nothing but sleep around and attend parties? (more on this in my next post.)

Onto the positive. Anthony and Benedict are still very close despite their differences and frustrations because for 5 years they were the only children. That's a considerable age gap between them and the rest of the siblings.

The whole thing of the heir and the spare also plays into this relationship to stay as tight as it is. It falls upon them to continue their father's legacy by law (which is why Ben should have helped Anthony more). The scene before the duel tells the audience so much about this. Colin, Gregory, and the girls loved Edmund as much as Ben and Anthony, but they will never have the connection these two had with him. They knew him longer and got the chance to have more mature conversations with him.

So for good or for bad, they have to have each other backs. Yes, Anthony pushed Benedict during the fending match, but he also helped him get up.

I have divided this post in various parts cause there's so much to unpack with these brothers. So, next post will be about the Academy fiasco. If you thought this was too harsh on Anthony, wait for it. No matter how wrong it was what Anthony did, Ben is taking advantage of that to blame Anthony for his self doubt.

[short-wooloo]

@david-talks-sw recently made a post (https://www.tumblr.com/david-talks-sw/712987173655363584/luke-skywalker-in-the-last-jedi-22) about Luke in TLJ, specifically on how some ideas struggled to work due to the film being unable to delve into Luke as deeply as is ideal, and how this can be remedied through additional media

So in that spirit, here’s my Ideas for what can be done with a pre-sequels Luke and Ben series, expanding on Ben’s turn to the dark side and basing the relationship between him and Luke and the falling out off of Shifu and Tai Lung from Kung Fu Panda

(Originally this was from a reblog I made on @ensomniaa​ ‘s post on the Jedi and Oogway https://www.tumblr.com/ensomniaa/696816137236774912/the-jedi-and-master-oogway)

This would start 10 years before TFA/TLJ (thus 4 years before Ben’s turn which is 6 years before TFA/TLJ), and cover a period of time of 4 years, so the timeline is 24-28 ABY

Let’s start with Luke, in line with basing him off of Shifu, Luke has a great deal of love and pride for his nephew/student, unfortunately this is clouding his objectivity on the subject, that love and pride is becoming attachment, Luke is not seeing what his nephew is becoming/not taking the warning signs as seriously as he should, ironically Luke is attempting to learn from his past mistakes, in ESB he rushed into Bespin without thinking because of a vision, so here Luke is seeing visions of Ben falling, but he’s trying not to overreact to them and make the same mistake or worse cause what he sought to prevent, that’s good, but as I said, Luke’s attachment to Ben is clouding his judgement and he’s not taking it as seriously as he should, and of course over time these visions will become more frequent and Ben’s own behavior (we’ll get to him in a minute) will worsen, but Luke, somewhat arrogantly (ties into Rian Johnson’s commentary that Luke is conflating his own failures as failures of the Jedi as a whole, he was arrogant and it caused disaster so now he’s thinking of the Jedi as a whole as arrogant in bitterness) reassures himself that he saved Anakin so he can do the same again with Ben

Speaking of, for Ben Solo, his bloodline and abilities are a great source of pride to him, but that pride is turning to arrogance and entitlement, we would see him grow more aggressive and cocky (which Snoke/Palpatine would eagerly encourage), becoming more violent in fights and prone to un-Jedi like behaviors, while also believing himself to be the greatest by virtue of his bloodline, we also have the revelation of Anakin/Vader (this is largely taken from the eu stuff), like Luke before him, Ben idolized Anakin Skywalker and was not made aware of his identity as Darth Vader, and the reveal is crushing, again just like it was for Luke, but whereas Luke came to terms with it, Ben will not, and it makes things worse,

Now I want to take a break from Luke and Ben specifically to address some additional factors

during all of this Luke would have some outside factors making things worse (and not just Snoke/Palpatine prodding at Ben trying to make him turn), obviously we know that the correct way to go about Jedi training is one Master focusing all their efforts on one student

unfortunately, Luke can’t exactly do that

in addition to mentoring Ben, Luke is also trying to rebuild the Order, Lead it, recover artifacts, and train a few dozen other Jedi all at once

It’s the worst of both worlds, nobody/nothing is getting the proper attention needed

Now I want to be clear, this is not a criticism of Luke, this is just a fact of how things are, he’s one man with a ton to do (and also maybe this feeds into his later self loathing, Luke thinks himself responsible because he tried to do everything), ideally it should not be this way, but like with the Prequel Jedi, Luke is lacking in good options, and taking on all of that work at once is simply the least bad option

As I already said, we wouldn’t see this all at once, this would be a gradual process over the course of years, I kinda would approach this like a lot of prequel material does: that feeling of dread as we slowly approach disaster

And speaking of disaster, we set the stage, the point in time is just a few days (or hours even) before the flashback in TLJ (the year is 28 ABY, 6 years before TFA)

Luke and Ben have returned from a mission, while it was a success, Luke is concerned, his visions have gotten worse, and the reality is not much better, Ben was very aggressive and arrogant, and even killed the darksider (who maybe is another apprentice of Snoke’s and Kylo’s own predecessor in the First Order) they fought after that darksider had been defeated (why yes that is an allusion to Anakin killing Dooku), and the whole thing has Luke questioning if he’s been going about this the right way, and then Ben does it...

He is demanding to be made a Knight, and this is where we lock in Ben’s parallels with Tai Lung (and parallels to his grandfather), rather than awaiting the time as to when he is judged to be worthy of something (knighthood/the Dragon Scroll), Ben in his arrogance is demanding it of his teacher

and the rejection of it causes something to snap

In a blind rage Ben lashes out, igniting his saber and attacking Luke, the fight is brief but furious, with Luke winning soundly

(and yes, I did deliberately inject aspects of the Obi-Wan/Anakin relationship and decline into Luke and Ben’s, if Kylo Ren’s story is going to mirror Vader’s so to should his fall)

though this all seems like should be the end of it, in truth this is the beginning of the end, Luke orders Ben to return to his hut to meditate and think on his actions, in a combination of attachment to Ben and an attempt to not act rashly, Luke is not taking this situation as seriously as he should, he’s not seeing Ben as the person who gave into anger and attacked him, Luke is still seeing Ben as his nephew and student

ut now Luke is questioning everything, he fears he has made a mistake, his love for Ben is clouding his mind, and after a little while he heads for the hut Ben stays in hoping to try and resolve this

But what has happened with Ben since the fight?

Well he is mad, he’s stewing in rage, dark murderous thoughts flow freely, self control is out the window, he’s not over the edge quite yet, but its enough for Snoke/Palpatine to use to create a disaster, they cultivate these dark thoughts, amplify them, even in Ben’s dreams knowing it will just take one wrong person in the wrong place and wrong time to set everything off

And thus, as Luke enters the hut hoping to speak with Ben and resolve things, he’s hit by darkness in Ben’s mind (Snoke/Palpatine probably took care to make sure that Luke was able to see such), and those thoughts, in tandem with Ben’s growing violent behavior and the fight just a few hours earlier, Luke seriously considers the unthinkable...

And from this change in context, Luke contemplating killing his nephew as we seen in the TLJ flashback is less out of the blue and instead shows that this is the culmination of a low point in the relationship

Of course, all of this wouldn’t exactly fit in a single movie’s runtime, but it just goes to show what disney should be doing with the sequels, expanding on the context to help improve them

I had a few other ideas but they’re not really about the Luke/Ben relationship, more just ideas for “if this was a show”, stuff like ongoing plots, arcs, other characters, etc

[summercourtship]

Um… hi Kyra! Be prepared bcs this will be a long one…

So, I finished KCU about four months ago, and let me just say that I think it’s a masterpiece, everything about it is perfect, one part in particular that I loved was how relatable the reader was (Believe it when I say it, it is HARD to do that, especially when you don’t know WHO is reading) I could definitely see myself doing exactly what she was doing! I loved how possessive Kylo Ren was and how he as also extremely conflicted about the reader herself, you managed to portray his turmoil really well! A part that BROKE me was when Leia was talking about how he got his soulmate phrase… Damn… you’re telling me this kid, that already thought of himself as a monster, was super happy that he HAD a soulmate, because that was a confirmation that he could be good and be loved unconditionally by someone, only to have his hopes CRUSHED when HIS MOTHER read to him what it said???!!!! DAAAANNGGG GIRL!!! You woke up and chose violence!!!!

But anyway, let’s get to the point that I wanted to get… ahem… if you’re comfortable… AND ONLY IF YOU’RE COMFORTABLE… (if not, ignore this part all together) I wanted to know if you have plans to continue it, i have been searching in your profile (stalking) for a reason why you stopped(not that i am obligated to have one!!) and the only thing i could find was that you stoped writing for KCU was bcs you felt that people wanted to end in a certain way and you didn’t (I could be wrong btw it has been a long time since I saw it) and that’s so sad! BUT I am really happy with the chapters we have! I love re-reading them! In the end you should put yourself first, if it’s not making you happy then you should not stress about it!

Also… if you don’t have any plans for it… I think it would be really cool if showed some BTS! I saw the other ask saying the same thing about STBOTDI (amazing fic btw) and i thought “hey it would be pretty neat if she did it for KCU too!” so if you’re feeling generous, feed this starving woman?

Anyway! thanks for listening to my rant! Thats all Folks

oh, kingdom come undone, my beloved. thank you so much for your kind words- it's been a while since I've looked back on KCU. I'm pretty sure I cackled when planning the part with Kylo's soulmark and the revelation about how it appeared because it's so sad lmao.

I do have plans to continue it, eventually. I want to go back and edit earlier chapters (and truly EDIT them, like overhaul level of editing) because I want to put it back on track to the vision I had for it originally. A big part of why I kinda fell out of love with writing it is because I felt like there was going to be a lot of people upset that I didn't make "Ben Solo" happen because fuck that shit, I like Kylo Ren bc he's a piece of shit who is sad sometimes not because he's an uwu soft baby who made a lil mistake.

But also, I started writing it in a really hard time- I had been dealing with extreme isolation due to both COVID and some things that happened with my friend group that ended up separating me from them (I had my family and I'm very grateful but there were months before I returned home from my college apartment because I wanted to be independent and believed it wasn't that bad and ended up just... not coping well with that, I'm afraid). I started planning KCU when I was in Pennsylvania for my grandmother's funeral and was writing it while dealing with extreme anxiety and depression combined with the struggles of being on different medications. So, while I do hold KCU in my heart and I love it, I do view it as a time capsule and know that I was writing it to distract myself from and cope with the shit I was dealing with. All of that makes it hard for me to go back to it because it feels very vulnerable, even if it doesn't come through in the text. I don't know if that makes sense.

BUT yes, I would love to one day go back, give it some TLC, and finally finish it for you all. I don't know if I have any BTS I could share right now because I really want to sit down with it and fix it, but once I'm comfortable with the state it is in, I will share.

Thank you so much. <3

[par-slayyy]

Across the spiderverse miguel analysis (spoilers)

So Miguel is definitely projecting onto miles. He sees himself in Miles and it scares him shitless that Miles might succeed where he failed. Miguel is traumatized from losing his family a second time and blames himself that he copes by calling spiderman's tragic events canon. 'It was supposed to happen. There was nothing that couldve been done.' He clings to the idea of spiderman's fate/destiny that he cant handle it when someone steps out of bounds. If it isnt the fate for everyone, then why do some experience this suffering in the first place? If some dont have an 'uncle ben' die, then why did others? Miguel wants to preserve canon events because he fears that altering them for enough people will shatter the spiderverse. But I dont think Miguel realizes that it's not the canon events specifically create spiderman, but spiderman's theme of resilience and responsibility. Every spider person challenges the canon in their own ways from the original/first spiderman, but the constant for spider-people has been choosing between their spiderman duties and civilian life.

The struggle for balance has plagued them across the spiderverse. Sometimes they cant save everyone, but that doesnt stop them from trying. The thing is, not only does spiderman have a responsibility toNew York, but also themself. Being spiderman is supposed to give them the power to do both. Miles is trying to do what Miguel failed to. He wants to have a balance between being Miles, the civilian, and spiderman, the hero. He wants to save everyone, including his loved ones. If Miles succeeds, then what does that mean for Miguel? What was is all for? Why all the suffering he experienced and inflicted? He feels he's gone too far to back out, so he clings to 'canon events.' He insists that Miles is the anomaly despite being the spiderman with, so far presented, the most variation of what it means to be spiderman.

So far, Miguel's origins is filled with questions I havent stopped thinking about: what happened to his original family? Was the Miguel he replaced also a spiderman? How long ago was it? Before or after Into the Spiderverse? Compared to when Miles went to his alternate dimension where he still glitched, why didnt Miguel glitch out of existence in his own alt? Is this why he started assembling spider people? Did the glitch he caused spread to other universes and he's trying to fix his mistake?

On top of observations of him in the film like: He doesnt have a spider-sense. Miguel started telling his origin before gwen interrupted him. Gwen calls him a ninja vampire spiderman but good. The wings of the vulture behind him in the museum was purposeful staging to indicate Miguel to have wings. He almost bit the vulture before the helicopter spotted him. He injects something into his arm. When Miles sees him climb with his claws, he also asks if he's even spiderman. Peter comments that he's the only unfunny spiderman, but in the previous film, he was just as witty as any other spiderman. Also in the end credits, he was already working on stable inter-dimensional travel. He had returned from somewhere to learn about what happened to the collider and miles.

Miguel's origin and even status as a spiderman is up in the air. He's hiding information about himself. He might be more of an anomaly than Miles. Miguel might not believe himself to be worthy of being spiderman but keeps going and wont stop until he meets his end goal. Whatever it is, Miles is either in the way or a mirror to Miguel and it terrifies him.

It's also interesting how these films deal with grief. The prev dealt with kingpin unable to accept that he scared his family and they died in fear of him. Kingpin created the collider to take his family from a different universe. Miguel also lost his family, for unknown reasons, and thought he could step into one from another universe. Both caused a tear in time and space.

[semper-legens]

193. The Changing Man, by Tomi Oyemakinde

Owned: No, library Page count: 382 My summary: Ife is a scholarship student at the prestigious Nithercott Academy - and she's not dealing with the pressure of being one of the few working-class Black kids in school. But something strange is afoot at the school. Kids are disappearing, and either they come back...different, or they don't come back at all. With outcast Bee and brother of one of the missing Ben at her side, can Ife solve the mystery of the Changing Man? My rating: 3.5/5 My commentary:

I was expecting this one to be a bit more...horror, than it was. That's not a criticism, it was just a surprise. Urban legends and cryptids are an interest of mine, so this story about the 'Changing Man', a being that supposedly lurks around Nithercott and takes lonely kids, is right up my alley. I found it to be really fun, honestly, if a little weird at times. But I'd prefer weird and fun to polished and boring. It was a good read!

Ife, our protagonist, is one of those classic heroines of this sort of story. She's struggling under pressure from both her parents, who expect great things from her, and the school, which might expel her if her grades are poor. She also feels disconnected from her home and friends - an attempt to smuggle herself out to see her best friend fails, and she's increasingly isolated as one of the only Black kids in a sea of white posh kids. If you've ever been a lonely teenager (which, let's be real, most of us have) you will relate to Ife. She's isolated, awkward, and troubled even before the Changing Man nonsense happened. And I find her to be a really credible protagonist. She's in over her head, and has a lot of moments where she's overwhelmed or breaking down over everything she's seen and done. She makes mistakes and further alienates herself from the kids that would naturally be her allies. But she keeps going, she keeps fighting, she doesn't back down, because she sees an injustice and she can't give it up. I loved her a lot, even if her narration was a little selfconsciously teenagery at times, the narrative leaning on a few teen cliches to characterise her in the earlier parts.

I also really liked her friends. Ben is the brother of missing kid Leon who bears a lot of guilt over Leon's disappearance. He's a weird kid, a bit of a delinquent but not a bad person, and adds a sort of quirky charm to the proceedings. Bee, meanwhile, is an awkward ambiguously-autistic nerd who finds herself alone because other people often find her offputting, and she latches onto other social outcasts to befriend out of a sense of desperation. They're both credible teens, and despite how I'm describing them here, they don't really fall into any of the classic Teen Story stereotypes. Sure, Bee is an awkward nerd, but her love of the school's history and self-awareness about Ife being cold to her at first elevate her. Ben is also complicated by his love for his brother and his big heart. They make a really cute trio!

Finally, let's talk about the Changing Man. Not the alien cryptid creature that forms the centre of this story, but the idea of change as a whole. Ife is worried that, being at the Academy and separated from her old friends, they will change without her and grow to not like her. She's also worried that she will change, and be left behind. The kids who disappear come back as pod people who act exactly as they are supposed to, a change that is clearly unnatural. Change is a huge theme, and the shapeshifters preying on the kids just underscore the point. Change is inevitable, and not necessarily to be feared, but too much change too quickly can be a red flag. The messaging is obvious, but not so on the nose that it gets in the way of the story, which I liked. Overall, it was a good story! I'm glad I picked it up.

Next, the pharmacist in a bunker beneath the world is facing a moral dilemma.

[annieintheaair]

Look, I don't mean to frustrate but I always make the same mistakes cause I'm bad at love

I’m doing my safety demo this morning and there’s a screaming baby to my left and a group of people speaking in Spanish to my right. I’m trying hard to listen to the whisper that is the PRAM but it’s a struggle. Background noise when I need to listen has always been difficult for me. I think it is for most people who have full hearing but for me, it’s so much worse.

I don’t think about it much because it has always been part of my life for as long as I can remember. I do things without thinking— like turn my head to listen or sit at a specific seat at a table that offers me optimal hearing. Having hearing loss really has its challenges at times but it’s what’s normal for me.

One thing I really try to avoid is large groups. It’s hard for me to socialize with many people at once. It’s best for me to be with someone one-on-one or with a small group. It’s stressful for me to be in an environment where I can’t hear well and end up spacing out because I feel like I can’t be part of the conversation. I feel bad when I can’t participate or people get offended that I can’t converse with the entire group and have to focus on one person at a time. It’s not until people make a big deal out of it that I really notice. It’s just what I’m used to and the adjustments I automatically make in my life. I hate being forced into situations like this where I’m uncomfortable and frustrated by my lack of hearing.

Even in college, there were times when I’d go to a party and get overwhelmed. I didn’t have any hearing aids back then so it was even harder for me. I stopped going to clubs and chose to stay home and be the DD for my friends (we didn’t have Uber back then). I couldn’t really avoid fraternity parties but usually found myself talking to one person at a time or upstairs away from the noise. No one ever tried to force me into situations that I didn’t want to be in where I felt uncomfortable because of my hearing loss.

Anyway, speaking of parties, one night in college, Dan and I got into a fight. We had too much to drink (to this day, I still don’t drink Kettle One) and I was so mad that I said I was going to walk home. I guess that was the beginning of my leaving— getting angry or upset and trying to literally walk away. One of Dan’s fraternity brothers, who hadn’t been drinking that night, went after me on his motorcycle. Long story short, he got me on the motorcycle and took me back to the house. Dan and I went to sleep after that and everything was fine the next day. Even though Dan himself didn’t go after me (because he had been drinking), he sent one of his friends after me. They say to think back on things that may have started patterns and that night, the pattern that I learned was that someone would always come after you if you walked away. Of course, now I know that that’s not always true, even though I hope it is every time. You can’t help but wish that you’d turn around and they’d be right there behind you.

The thing about relationships and fights is that over time, you learn the things that get under the other person’s skin. You know what to do or say that can make them really mad and you also know the things that can make it better. Dan knew that if I was having a crappy day, Ben & Jerry’s was always helpful. He also knew that I loved Target and one time put on a Target documentary to cheer me up. We also both knew the things we could say that would hurt each other. 

After we broke up, for what I think was the final time, we both said some awful things. After Dan passed away, I couldn’t remember the password to my MacBook. I tortured myself trying to remember it so I could get back into the computer and reread our text messages. Eventually, when I did, I felt really bad. Between the things I had said to him over the years via text and Facebook messenger, I had so much guilt. I couldn’t go back in time and unsay those things. Rereading, I realized, all the years later, that I could have responded differently and maybe it would have changed the outcome.

I think sometimes we get so caught up in the moment that we forget to look at the overall picture. When we're hurt or angry, it's hard to take a step back and pause before reacting. I can remember myself on my phone or on messenger, typing fast without thinking. While Dan knew all of the things to say and do to make things better, he also knew how to make things worse.

One of the things that drives me completely mad is being ignored. It's like a pot of water on the stove, boiling over because no one has turned down the temperature. Communication is so important for me that when I get shut out, I boil over, and then it's hard to come back from that after becoming water all over the stove, just burning up the surface.

Last night, as I was getting ready for work, I changed out the screen protector on my phone. I got a new pack of four in the mail and wanted to switch it out. I was kind of in a hurry so by the time I got on the bus at work, I realized that there was a bubble underneath where a small speck of dust had been left behind. I thought I'd be careful and lift it up to smooth it out but instead, I cracked it, completely destroying the new screen protector.

Just like the screen protector, I think sometimes you want something to be so perfect that you ruin it. One little thing doesn’t seem perfect so you destroy it trying to fix something that’s not even broken. Could I have lived with the small speck of dust? Probably. Could I have waited for another time to be more gentile? Yes, I think so. But most importantly, could I maybe have been more careful to avoid getting that speck of dust in the first place? Absolutely.

Instead of rushing through things, like sending those messages you later regret, or acting in a moment of frustration and making rash decisions, it's important to remember to slow down, take a minute, breathe, and think it through. Why is that so hard to do sometimes?

There are two types of people: those who think everything is their fault (often because others lead them to believe that it is) and those who think nothing is their fault. Those two types of people usually get together. One is constantly pushing the blame, not taking any responsibility, and the other is letting it all weigh on their shoulders, accepting the responsibility of it all.

Unfortunately, I oftentimes feel that I am the first person, always taking all of the blame. I write here and I go to therapy and think about what I could have done better and what I might have done differently to change the outcome. Just like when I went through the old messages between me and Dan, I'm always trying to learn something more about myself and how I can do and be better next time. Deep down, I know that everything isn't always my fault but it's still hard to accept that when others aren't accepting their own shortcomings.

Someone once told me that when it comes to therapy, people usually go to help them deal with others in their lives who won't go to therapy. Not to say that those who go to therapy don't actually need it but to be honest, I think everyone could use therapy. I stopped seeing my therapist at the end of 2023 because she started at a new practice that no longer accepted my insurance. I decided it's ok to try a new therapist so I'm totally switching it up tomorrow and meeting with a male therapist for the first time ever. The thing is, even if others won't work on themselves, the best thing I can do for myself is continue to work on me.

When we landed back in DFW this morning, the sky was a beautiful rainbow. Even though things may feel a little grey, I know there are always rainbows.

xoxo

Annie

[skullhub]

MUSE PROFILE: Peter Parker (Earth 26496-B)

Name: Peter Beckham Parker

Age: 17

Pronouns: He/Him

Height: 5'2"

General alignment: Lawful Neutral

General personality: Impulsive, Intelligent, Socially Awkward, Anxious, Has a blunt way of speaking, pays attention to details, Energetic, Sort of an insomniac, Puts others before himself, Hard working, Overly prepared for everything.

Family: Mary Parker (Mother, deceased), Richard Parker (Father, deceased), Ben Parker (Uncle, deceased), May Parker (Aunt)

Home: Queens, New York City. Earth 26496-B

Backstory: Peter parker’s backstory is nearly identical to every other spiderman’s story. He got bit by a genetically modified spider that gave him superpowers, lost his uncle ben after he got killed by a mugger, and learned that great power came with a great amount of responsibility.

It wasn't until his junior year of highschool that things really started to ramp up for Peter. For the first time he now on top of dealing with the burglars has to deal with a bunch of superpowered villains that absolutely despise him for multiple different reasons. He’s been struggling trying to adapt to all the new changes in his life, and currently he’s also grappling with his own guilt after realizing his own impulsivity and recklessness possibly created a couple of the same villains he still fights to this day. Despite everything he deals with as Spider-man, Peter still tries to live as normal as a life as he can outside of his heroic duties. He still goes to school, he still has a side-job where he takes photos for the daily bugle occasionally for money, and he’s doing his best to try and have a social life again now that he’s able find balance again.

Extra Info: Peter is sort of Symbiote-phobic due to his traumatic experiences dealing with his universe’s symbiote, both when it was trying to control him and when it had bonded with Eddie Brock. The ladder having traumatized him so bad that now he looks over his shoulder near constantly whenever he goes out by himself.

Peter excels when it comes to science and math but he often struggles with subjects like English or Art due to him not being totally invested in those classes.

He made the spider-signal belt he wears when he was around 15, having gone through a couple prototypes of the signal before he finally settled on the model he wears now.

Peter is often a bit clumsy when he’s not paying attention to the world around him and his spacial awareness is also affected by how tunnel-visioned he gets while doing certain tasks.

Peter recently has not been really paying attention to when he gets injured (like when he gets bruised after a fight or when he gets a small cut somewhere) and he only starts to realize how badly he got hurt either when he touches the injury by mistake, or when the adrenaline wears off after the battle and he finally relaxes. This is not the case for when Peter injures himself to a larger degree however, regardless though he’ll just try to brush it off as “just a little scratch.” To avoid worrying anybody around him.

Peter’s sleep schedule is all out of whack due to everything he has to take care of in the day. So he doesn’t usually go to bed until like around from Midnight to 3am.

[prose-mortem]

ARC Review of Summer Reading by Jenn McKinlay

4/5 Stars

I absolutely loved Summer Reading and am considering changing my birthday plans to Martha's Vineyard, because the author made it sound so quaint and relaxing! I enjoyed this so much!

Our story starts when our FMC, Sam, accidentally knocks a cute guy's (Ben's) book out of his hands on her ship ride to Martha's Vineyard. Sam is going to be watching her 14-year-old half-brother (Tyler) for the summer while her parents travel abroad and will be trying to establish a strong sibling relationship with him. While dropping her brother off for summer robotics camp, Sam discovers that the cute guy she inconvenienced on the ship is actually the new local library director (and her best friend's boss). As Sam's BFF, Em, deals with the potential of serious illness and Sam's feelings for Ben grow more complicated, Sam has to face her fears about repeating the past and dealing with her own childhood trauma. Sam is a chef who has been passed over for a promotion at her high-end city job and is strapped for cash… and ideas for how to sustain herself for the future. Sam fears that Ben will reject her when he finds out that the reason she doesn't like to read is because she is dyslexic and struggles to absorb written material that isn't accessible to people with her diagnosis. Can an introvert and an extrovert, a book lover vs. a movie lover, and a successful director vs. an in-between-jobs couple make a romance work? As Sam tries to help Ben unravel the mystery of who his father is, she begins to discern between accepting what people have thrown at her in the past and truly claiming what she deserves.

There are so many things to love about this book:

Our FMC is dyslexic and I learned SO much about dyslexia from this book. The book is also written in a dyslexia-friendly font and makes words bold instead of italicized to increase accessibility for dyslexic people.

Sibling relationships are explored just as much as romance, and I found that entire arc fascinating and adorable.

I saw in the back of Summer Reading that Sam's best friend Em is getting her own book?? I am so hyped for that because I really related to her health challenges and want to see which direction she chooses to go with her life. If this turns into a whole series, I'm in it for the long haul.

The MMC makes mistakes, but overall he is extremely thoughtful and finds ways to bridge gaps between his and Sam's special interests. I do wish that he had clarified exactly how he would deal with stressful situations in the future, but his re-entry into Sam's life was pretty dramatic and entertaining. I think this works so well because Sam and Ben are not actually opposites. They both adore storytelling- Sam just needs to engage with content in a way that is accessible for her while working through her emotional wounds from a childhood that was hateful toward dyslexic people

Even though some parts of the book are sad, they are necessary for good storytelling. I've seen people asking why there is no lawsuit since Sam's workplace that basically fired her and didn't promote her seemed to discriminate against her for being dyslexic. While I think that would have been satisfying, the fact is that some people just want to move forward with their lives. Sam is also dealing with intense shame surrounding her diagnosis, so it makes sense that she is not in the headspace to jump into a legal fistfight. Maybe in a future book, this could be explored? Either way, I am satisfied with how things turned out. I would also love to find out what happened with the cookbook Sam was writing! The recipes in the back of the book look amazing, and I'm going to have to try them out.

All in all the author, Jenn McKinlay, jumped at the opportunity to make this book so much more than a romance, which is what really hooked me. I love it when authors take the time to develop an MC's relationships outside of romantic love and really delve into the side characters and backstories. I read this in a single night and I'm as invested in this story as I am in the Delilah Green series. Thank you to Netgalley, Jenn McKinlay, and Berkley Publishing for my ARC of this delightful read!

[zepskies]

Hello my beloved!! I forget that it's already Sunday in AUS by the time I post on Saturday my time. 🤣 And yes, no more cliffhangers. 🤣 We made it to the grand finale!

Ben really is the worst roommate ever lmfao. And I agree, I think she's got every right to be petty by now. 6 months? Bitch please. 😂

That therapist deserves a whole ass pay raise for putting up with that shit oh god 🤣

TRUE FACTS. 😂😂 Ben's putting that shrink to the test. Nothing in his doctoral training prepared him for this shit.

Now that their dynamic is different from when she was living with him as a uhh… y’know, his captive 😅, Ben would revert to this kind of behaviour.

Ooh, you know him. 🙃 And honestly, Louisa's POV is understandable. All she knows about Ben is what her sister has told her vs. what she sees of his actions. You'll get more of Louisa in Part 2 and 3 of "Love Actually." 😘

And thank you for shouting out his "old man-ness" captured in this chapter loll. I think it's an important reminder. The guy is literally 102 years fucking old. 😂

You’d think that this old ass man would actually be the type to call her his girlfriend. 🤣

My headcannon is he's the typical macho man when it comes to expressing his deepest feelings. And for a habitual womanizer like him, putting an "official" label on this relationship is hard for him, because this time he knows it's real.

Very smart of her to lay down these rules! This first one especially, I don’t blame her for it being the first rule!

Right? I thought she would need to set her expectations early, from the get go, so they're both on the "same page," even if she isn't sure if he's sticking to the rules. 🫠

““You know what? You’re right. Smooth and creamy is how I’ll eat out your mother’s sweet and savory vajine,” Frenchie teased.” — I LITERALLY WHEEZED AT THIS!! Holy shit I love Frenchie 🤣

He has a similar line in season 2 I believe, and I HAD to bring it back in this way. Fucking Frenchie. 🤣🤣

I really do love Annie, I mean sure she can be annoying but at the end of the day, she always has pure intentions.

I feel the exact same way about Annie. lol Sometimes she annoys me, but in moments like this, she's the friend you want in your corner. 🥹

Oh Jesus he’s being such a man 💀 I would struggle to keep cool if a guy I was seeing publicly undermined me like this.

Oh, Ben's Mr. Machismo. lmfao. Like it's coming from a place of concern for her safety, but he's being a massive dick about it, isn't he?

“Sapphire’s here somewhere. I can smell a massive cunt already.” — I have major appreciation for this line right here, it’s very Butcher!! 🤣

Thank you for shouting out this line lol. Low key one of my faves here. I really truly try my best to get Butcher on point, because his voice is tricky to get right. 🤣

““What the hell’s going on?” you heard Ben’s voice on the line.” — Oh god this little princess is going to make a big deal about this isn’t he?

Oh, you know it. 🙄🙄

BRUHHHHHH how stupid do you have to be to make that mistake? 😂 What a dumbass!

IKR? What a dumbass bitch. 🤣 She's a whole king pin drug lord and still managed to electrocute TF out of herself.

This is so cute omg, I mean poor Hughie, but I adore the way that Ben always comes to her aid. Also “Hughie’s scrawny hands” made me WHEEZE 💀

LOL I had to, poor Hughie lol. But it's from Ben's POV in that moment. 😂

SHE PULLED THE GRANDPA CARD AND I LOVE HER FOR IT OMG!!!

Oooh yes, this whole section was my second-favorite scene to write (other than the romantic stuff at the end 🥹). But LMFAO not you startling your poor doggo. 🤣 Ben wouldn't really toss her, but he definitely thought about it. Fantasies. Just like the "jenga" line later on. 🤣 But lolllll did I really write you as the reader in this chapter?? Fucking amazing. 😂😂

“You’re the fucking grouch,” you shot back. In times like these, you liked to fantasize. Sometimes you wished you could rip out his spine and play Jenga with the vertebrae.” — THIS IS SO VIOLENT AND FUNNY AND I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT OMG I’M MAKING SO MANY STUPID ASS SOUNDS AS I HOLD MY LAUGHTER IN 🤣

So funny story, this line came about from a convo between my best friend and I. She was telling me about her boyfriend driving her literally up the wall over something he did that made no fucking sense (men, amirite?). And she literally was like, "I love the fuck out of him, but sometimes I just want to rip out his spine, bro." 🤣🤣 I ad-libbed the rest.

Now Ben will see why he needs to be vocal and honest about how he feels. He probably thinks that his gestures are doing the talking for him, that what he’s done for her is enough of a testament to how much he loves her. But he can’t just expect her to know the intention behind these actions, especially considering the type of person he used to be.

OMGGG you got it!! You got exactly what I was trying to convey!! He's fully expecting his actions to tell the story, but she needs more than that. Especially when it comes to his Countess trauma lol. He knows that he was a bastard. But it doesn't change the fact that he was betrayed by her and his whole team. For him, that's still something that affects him.

“But one day, I’m still going to fucking lose you,” he said, looking down on you. “Then I’ll be right back where I started.” — I’m so glad that you brought this up!

Yeeep. You brought this up a while back, but it's important. 🥲 And it's a conversation that they're definitely going to come back to...at a later date. As well as the "having a family" conversation. 😉

“You could’ve never known it then, but you’d stared straight into the face of your future.” — That’s so funny to think about that they never knew how important they would become to each other 🥹🫶

I know, that's why I had to add something that harkened back to the beginning contentious days of their relationship lol. I look back at the beginning chapters, and they really just have no idea of the rollercoaster they're about to go on together. But it's all their choices that bring them each to this point. 🥹

THIS IS SO FRICKING CUTE OMGGGG!!! I’m so curious now about what type of parents they’d be, and about the type of kids they would have!

😏😏😏

(To be continued...)

They’ve come so far together, and I love that you added this tension and these issues and insecurities into this chapter, because it’s such a realistic and necessary step!

Thank you, my friend!! I was definitely going for realism amidst the fantastical nature of this show lol. At least, realism in their relationship. It's not perfect, and it's never going to be. They're still going to have conflict and issues to work through, but that ultimately makes their bond stronger. And like you said, it's more satisfying as a story and as a romance when you overcome obstacles to be together. ❤️❤️

Thank you so much for your feedback and encouragements through this whole ride!! So excited to bring you more BMD-verse soon. 🥹🥰🥰

Break Me Down - The Epilogue

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

AN: This chapter is set about a month before "Love Actually." So...are you ready?

Song Inspo: For this last chapter, it’s “The Book of Love” by Peter Gabriel. (It’s just lovely. I listened to it while writing the second half of the epilogue!)

Word Count: 7,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Violence and peril, angst, familiar bickering, smutty smut, bit of breeding kink, tender fluff, hurt/comfort, and an ending…

Epilogue: All My Living Time

“I’m not fucking around,” he said. “I want you to live with me.” 

Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

Six months later…

You were frustrated with your roommate.

And yes, you used the word roommate, because he hadn’t seen fit to give it any other label.

You stewed in your irritation as you also stirred the beginnings of chicken tortilla soup. It was early in the morning before work, and Yvette had been teaching you how to master the crockpot. Hopefully, by the time you and Ben got home tonight, it would be ready and waiting for dinner.

Six months. You had to nag him about cabinets left open, dirty boots left right in front of the door to your shared apartment, and hell, actually going to his therapy sessions.

While that last one had taken months of convincing and cajoling, he’d caved when you suggested that acknowledging and dealing with what happened to him in Russia might help him control the nuclear power inside him. And maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t have to patch another hole in the ceiling.

Mind you, he wouldn’t actually talk to said therapist about anything related to his PTSD. But at least he was going. And the therapist was apparently getting an earful of Ben’s celebrity encounters, with all the explicit, gushy details.

However, even with all of this, it also sometimes felt like you were an in-house maid rather than a partner.

The latest reason for your frustration returned to you when Ben strolled into the kitchen in search of coffee. He wasn’t yet dressed for work in his supe suit; instead, still in the plain shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.

He glanced at you, and seeming to sense your mood, he kept to himself as he found his usual mug and poured a cup of steaming French press in silence.

You took in a breath, trying to calm yourself. Maybe he’d had time to sleep on it. You closed the crockpot and went over to him. Your hand on his arm made him pause.

“Hey,” you said, “have you thought about what I asked you last night?”

Ben’s expression remained flat. “I think I already said my piece on that.”

You sighed.

“Why is dinner with my family such a hard thing for you?” you asked. Your brows furrowed. “My sister’s starting to warm up to you! And Mom just wants to get to know you. What’s the problem?”

Ben scoffed. “Your sister fucking hates me.”

You bit your lip. He wasn’t totally wrong, but in fairness, Louisa wasn’t happy to learn about why you’d nearly died in the hospital, when Vought Tower collapsed.

She thought you needed therapy for an egregious case of Stockholm Syndrome. But the more Ben worked with Supe Affairs, helping to clear the streets of out-of-control supes and cleaning up the remains of Vought, you were slowly getting Louisa to come around.

“She just needs time to get to know you too,” you said.

Ben wasn’t having it though. He rolled his eyes and tried to walk away from you with his coffee and a newspaper—aiming to get to his favorite lounge chair in the living room. It was the way he always started his morning, like the old man he was.

You followed him.

“Come on, one dinner won’t kill you,” you said. “And by the way, neither would moving your dirty-ass boots out of the doorway.”

You went over to grab said boots, and in your annoyance, you all but tossed them into the hall. Ben frowned at you, throwing down the newspaper onto the coffee table.

“Why’re you nagging me like a goddamn wife?” he snapped.

“Wife?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You don’t even call me your girlfriend.”

But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldn’t say it.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but you’d been living together for six damn months. Almost seven, if you counted the safe house.

When you found this nice, but cozy apartment in Scarsdale, you’d sat him down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, like the two of you used to in that house in Medellin.

And you established the ground rules before you two officially moved in together: 

First, an exclusive relationship meant exclusive. Meaning no fucking around. (He’d raised a brow at you.)

Second, you were his partner, not his slave. You expected him to carry his hefty weight, not only in the relationship, but around the house. (He’d most definitely rolled his eyes at that.)

And finally, don’t be an asshole, you’d decreed. “Be honest when you’re not feeling right about something. But don’t be a dick about it.” 

That cut both ways, of course, just like the other two rules. He’d agreed to all of these, albeit begrudgingly. You hadn’t really known then if he meant it.

And now, looking at him, you still had no idea if he was trying, or if he was just tired of being alone…and if you were just a convenient bedwarmer. You bit your lip once again, this time with a growing fear blooming anxiety in your chest.

“Do you even love me?” you asked.

Ben blinked down at you, and his lips pulled into a deep frown.

“Stop fucking around,” he said.

“I’m serious,” you insisted. Your crossed arms tightened, as if to protect yourself from what he might say. “You’ve never said it once.”

“And the fact that I agreed to live in this mediocre fucking apartment doesn’t mean anything?” he said, gesturing around him with a hand. “I take you out, I buy you shit. Matter of fact, I fucking spoil you.”

“And you take off whenever you feel like it, especially after missions,” you shot back. “Sometimes I don’t know where the hell you’ve gone for hours. For all I know, you’re out there doing blow with a caravan of strippers!”

While that did sound like a damn good time, that hadn’t been Ben’s M.O. in recent months. And in his mind, you should’ve known better.

“I haven’t fucked anyone but you since we moved in here,” he snapped.

Even longer than that, if he was honest. 

Meanwhile, you wanted to trust his words, desperately, but you just didn’t know if you could. 

“Even if I believe you, what’s the problem here?” you asked. Your gaze fell from his as you worried your bottom lip. “Am I doing something wrong?”

You didn’t see the way Ben’s brows knitted together, his eyes softening a bit.

“Other than annoying the hell out of me right now, no,” he replied. 

“Okay,” you nodded with a sigh. You looked up at him again. “Then just tell me the truth. What are we doing here?” 

“What the fuck do you mean?” Ben’s hands went to his waist, and once again, he frowned in irritation. “I’m here. What more do you want from me?” 

“Do you love me?” you asked. “And don’t lie to me.” 

He knew very well that you would be able to detect if he was lying. Which was why, you suspected, he hadn’t tried to. 

He couldn’t seem to answer you though…and that broke your heart.

Shaking your head, you walked away from him to get ready for work.

Your attitude at work was snappish at best. Annie had pulled you from the Surveillance department on your lunch break to join her and your friends in the breakroom, but you couldn’t enjoy yourself like you usually would.

“Smooth and creamy, all the motherfuckin’ way,” M.M. said. Sitting across from him in the breakroom was Frenchie, pelting him with a roasted peanut.

“This is why you are an unsophisticated, bourgeois, fucking fuddy-duddy,” Frenchie remarked. He was also vaping, as Annie was trying to get him to stop smoking indoors. “Extra crunchy peanut butter is the only way to do business.”

“What’s the point? Just eat peanuts if you want it that crunchy,” M.M. countered. He blocked each roasted nut thrown at him and organized them in a perfect pile on the table.

“You know what? You’re right. Smooth and creamy is how I’ll eat out your mother’s sweet and savory vajine,” Frenchie teased.

M.M.’s deadpan face was priceless. But when a peanut projectile strayed and hit you in the cheek, you leveled Frenchie with a glare.

“Can you guys not act like children for five goddamn minutes?” you snapped.

His brows raised, along with his hands in surrender. M.M. and Annie looked at you in mild surprise, and the latter with concern after the guys eventually left.

“What’s going on with you? You’ve looked tense as hell all day,” she asked. You sighed, holding a hand to your brow.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you replied. She gave you a knowing look.

“Is…something going on?” she asked. “Is it Ben?”

Most of the S.A. was still wary of Ben, while M.M. tolerated him at best. (You understood how hard he was trying.)

You appreciated Annie though. She was a good friend, and along with Hughie, she’d been another who started to come around to the idea of Ben. Not only as he occasionally worked with the S.A., but to the man himself, after she’d seen the way he did his best to save you, Yvette, and her son Devon.

You nodded at her question. You couldn’t help the tears burgeoning in your eyes. Annie scooched her chair over so she could rub your back in comfort. You sniffed and tried not to break down here in the middle of the breakroom, over your sad ham sandwich.

“We had a fight,” you admitted. Annie’s gaze was tight with concern.

“Did he…hurt you?” she asked. Her brown eyes were as direct as her words, promising her protection as well as retribution, depending on how you answered.

Your glassy eyes widened. “No. He’s not like that, he…believe it or not, but he’s never hurt me, Annie. Not once.”

After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, good. Well, tell me what happened.”

You wanted to. But before you could, both of you got an incoming text in the team group chat. It was from Grace Mallory.

She had a new mission.

Grace asked you to join the team on your first field mission since you’d returned to work three months ago. She also called in Ben, as in her words, it was another “all hands on fucking deck” situation.

Ben and Butcher eyed one another with similar stoic frowns, before they proceeded to ignore each other. Despite how you felt about Ben right now, the brief exchange almost made you smirk.

Apparently the whole I saved you with my super blood thing was awkward for both of them. You knew Ben had seen it as a means to an end. You still didn’t know how Butcher felt about it, but it seemed as if a begrudging respect had formed between the two men.

Or at least, they were civil, anyway.

“All right,” Grace said, once she saw that everyone was in attendance. “Let’s begin.”

A supe named Sapphire had been giving the CIA trouble for years now. She was moving drugs from South America to the States, to the Middle East, whoever would deal with her. And she was smart. She had a network of spies that transcended continents, and so she had evaded every attempt at arrest.

She was also a powerful supe, with the ability to channel vaporizing energy not unlike Crimson Countess had. However, this supe could spear blue shards of light through her enemies as well.  With her damn eyes.

Grace turned to you after she finished explaining the details of the mission.

“Sapphire’s internal security is advanced. Our system can’t penetrate her firewalls. You’ll need to get a hand on the mainframe from there, shut down her system. Then our Surveillance team can back you up here.”

You nodded, but in the corner of your eye, you noticed Ben frowning as he crossed his arms.

“What?” you asked.

“You’re out of practice,” he told you. “You really think you’re ready for this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I train every day,” you snapped back.

Ben’s expression fell into irritation. “Not the same, and you fucking know it.”

Butcher, Annie, and the others watched the exchange with mixed wariness and discomfort. Grace looked between you and Ben with curious, narrowed eyes.

“Is this going to be a problem, you two working together on this?” she asked.

You turned from Ben’s annoyed face and met Grace’s gaze directly.

“Not at all,” you said.

Sapphire had been spotted doing business in the Meat Packing District. By day, the building was a beef butchering factory. By night, it was apparently one of the most massive drug running operations in the city.

As such, her security team was extensive—at the front, the back, and the roof. So while Butcher, Kimiko, and Ben broke through the front, making a lot of noise and distraction, the rest of you went under.

Unfortunately, that meant the sewer. Annie lit the way through, while M.M. followed a set of schematics to find the right spot.

“It’s not my first time in the bowels of New York City, but please God, let it be the last,” Hughie quipped. You tried not to breathe the foul smell through your nose.

“Watch the fucking rat,” M.M. said with a grimace, before he set up the double-sided ladder he brought. He and Frenchie climbed either side of it up to the metal ceiling which, according to the building’s schematics, led directly beneath the factory basement.

They took up welding guns and masks to carve a large hole into the metal and cement above. And soon enough, they pushed up and slid over a large portion, creating a gap you could all crawl through. 

M.M. helped Annie up first, and she shot a few star bolts at the three men inside, who had been smoking and eating deli sandwiches. Each of them went down, alive, but groaning in pain. That allowed the rest of you to climb up and into the basement.

“We’re in,” M.M. said into the Bluetooth communicator in his ear.

“We’re cutting through her goon squad,” Butcher said. “Sapphire’s here somewhere. I can smell a massive cunt already.”

“Gross. Thanks for that visual,” Annie remarked.

From there, you all took off toward the stairwell. It was your task to find the operation’s security control room. So Hughie and Frenchie went with you as backup, while M.M. and Annie went to join the fight and find Sapphire.

It took you a few tries to find the right room. Most of them were offices. One contained wagons of discarded meat parts (disgusting). But eventually, you found a large room filled with computer equipment and a huge wall monitor with several panels of camera feeds. You and Frenchie raised your guns and took out the team inside.

Then you and Hughie went to the controls. Frenchie watched the door while you worked to disable the firewall first. You instructed Hughie on how to knock out their communications as well. And within a few minutes, your work was done. You were able to make a call to the S.A. Surveillance team.

“Hey, friend!” a cheerful voice greeted you. You smiled; it was your coworker Jess, who you’d worked with for the past two years. 

“Jess?”

“Yep! I’m helping out on this one. What do you need?”

“I shut down the firewall. I’m giving you the I.P. address now so you can connect.”

“…Okay, got it. I’m in. I can see all twenty cameras, and you! Hey, there.”

“All right, where’s Sapphire?” you asked.

“Looks like they haven’t found her yet,” Hughie said, pointing at the camera feed in the main room, filled with rows of conveyor belts, and a massive fight as Ben, Butcher, and the others made their way through the building.

“We’ll just have to help them clear each room,” you said. “Let’s go. Jess, keep an eye on us, but look out for Sapphire.”

“Will do. I’m patched into your comm now too,” she said. So you hung up your cell, and you left with Hughie and Frenchie.

You ran into more security when you left the room, more than the three of you could realistically handle as a fire fight began. You guys ran in the opposite direction, but while you veered right around the corner, Frenchie and Hughie ran left. Bullets tore in between, making sure that none of you could cross the hall to join back up.

“You guys keep going. I’ll find my own way out,” you called out to them. Neither of them liked that idea, but Frenchie nodded and pulled Hughie away when Sapphire’s security team closed in.

You kept running down the hall. You knew you were being chased. Several heavy footsteps thundered behind you. 

“Jess, I need a way out of here,” you commed in.

“You’re on the second floor,” she said. “The closest stairwell is the one you’re running away from.”

“What’s the second closest?” You panted as you ran.

“Hmm, you can cut through room 234. The exit stairwell is right on the other side.”

 “Is the room clear?” you asked.

After a moment, Jess answered. “Yep, it should be.”

"Should be?”you said dubiously.

“What the hell’s going on?” you heard Ben’s voice on the line. You heard the edge of his annoyance (and underlying worry), but you didn’t have time to talk to him right now.

“Looks clear on my end,” said Jess,“but this connection is a bit wonky.”

Damn it, Jess, you thought. When you reached room 234, the door was solid gray. There was no window to peek into, and you didn’t have time for caution, as a stray bullet nearly caught you in the head.

You ripped the door open and ran in, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it for good measure.

You turned around and stopped short. A gasp caught in your throat.

The room was huge, and it was filled wall-to-wall with white packages, of what you could only assume was cocaine. A few men were continuing to stack them. At the center of it all was a tall woman, rich tan skin, long black hair, wearing a deep blue pantsuit and killer heels. She looked like a boss ass bitch.

But unfortunately, she was also looking straight at you, raising a brow.

“Ah,” she said. A smile curved her lips, painted with a dark plum lipstick. “You’re one of the little bitches making a mess in my office.” 

Her eyes glowed blue, and yours widened. You dove for the nearest shelter—a wall of cocaine parcels. White powder exploded and wafted in the air as you ducked and ran across the room (and tried not to inhale). You drew your gun and shot out the legs of her men underneath the long stretch of table, but you yelped as bullets continued to follow you.

“I found Sapphire! Need backup in 234!” you shouted into the comm.

But when a blast of blue energy rocked into the wall directly behind you, you screamed as you were thrown forward. You landed painfully on your side, with the wind knocked out of you.

After a moment, you drew breath into your lungs and were able to pick yourself up. The exit door was close, a mere few feet away, but the second you reached for it, you had to pull back as narrow blue shards of light pierced the door. 

Sapphire was quickly approaching, just a yard or so away from grabbing you.

Instead of shooting your gun, you went for the taser at your belt and shot fast. Sapphire grabbed the end of the line like a fucking moron. Her blue eyes widened in outrage and pain when it shocked 50,000 volts of electricity through her body.

You took your chance, and you ripped the door open and fled. You just didn’t expect the bolt of energy that shot after you when you reached the stairs.

It didn’t hit you, but trying to dodge it made you lose your balance. You uttered a short scream as you were forced to jump the first flight of stairs.

You landed on the middle platform between the first and second floor. This time, you knew you twisted your ankle badly on the way down. You whimpered, holding your ankle and shin, but you knew you didn’t have time to waste.

It was a struggle to claw your way up to the guard rail. You could barely put pressure on your right foot, but you had no choice as you scrambled down the rest of the stairs. Already the door to the stairwell was blown open, and a pissed supe was on her way down behind you.

After shoving the door open on the first floor, you stumbled out and took another painful spill across the concrete floor. To your relief, M.M. picked you up by your arms.

The door behind you swung open, and before Sapphire could fire off a vaporizing blow, Ben raised his new titanium shield in front of you and M.M.

The blue energy bounced right off, and Ben used his shield to bat the supe right in the face—like swatting a fly. With a shriek, she was thrown hard against the wall.

Sapphire sunk to her knees, then the electric blue flickered out of her eyes as she fell unconscious to the floor.

When you all returned to Supe Affairs, Ben thundered down the hall towards the Surveillance department.

“Ben!” You hurried after him the best you could with a sprained ankle, bare-footed and wrapped, while M.M. and Hughie trailed behind. The others were busy getting Sapphire into custody.

Hughie was concerned for you though, while M.M. also wanted to know how you were going to try and reign in Soldier Boy.

“What the hell are you doing?” you called after Ben.

“I wanna know what goddamn moron cleared that fucking room,” he barked, but he didn’t slow down.

M.M. called your name from behind.

“Get your boyfriend in check,” he warned.

You sighed in irritation. At this point, you didn’t even know if he was your boyfriend.

But you struggled to reach him. You were practically hopping on one foot. The moment you tried to put any pressure on your right one, you faltered with a cry as you all but crashed against the wall to catch yourself. Hughie went to help you, grabbing your arm gently with a supportive hand on your back.

You didn’t see it, but that was when Ben stopped short. His jaw ticked. And he turned on his booted heel. When he saw you struggling to support yourself against the wall, he reluctantly went back. He knocked Hughie’s scrawny hands off you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

When he tried to just gather you into his arms to get the weight off your injured foot, you snapped at him.

“I can walk!” you said. “Let’s just go home please.”

His nostrils flared in irritation, but he helped you try to walk back toward the exit instead. You winced in pain with every small step.

Ben growled in annoyance. Fuck this. 

He hefted you effortlessly into his arms. You gasped and clung to his shoulders, and afterwards, you glared at him.

“I said I can walk!” you insisted.

“Shut up,” he grated out, swiftly heading for the exit doors down the hall. M.M. and Hughie watched with wide eyes while you and Ben devolved into what you did best.

“Don’t tell me to shut up!” you raised your voice.

He glared at you. “You’re in rare fucking form right now.”

“You’re the one being an asshole!”

“And you’re being a disrespectful brat!”

You rolled your eyes as anger burned hot in your veins. “What-fucking-ever, grandpa.”

Ben’s teeth clicked and grinded together. It took everything he had within him not to toss you. 

“You really wanna fucking get it, don’t you?”

“Suck my dick. How about that?” you sassed back, unfazed by his warning. 

Ben bulldozed through the double doors with a swift kick that shook them on their hinges. The bickering continued long after you two exited the building. 

Hughie just stared, mouth gaping, while M.M. crossed his arms. 

“That is some volatile shit,” Hughie remarked. 

M.M. scoffed, with a subtle shake of his head. 

“Nah, man,” he said ruefully. “That’s true motherfuckin’ love.”

Meanwhile, in the car, Ben drove home to Scarsdale. You simmered in the passenger seat. He glanced at you.

“Are you gonna be a hissy bitch all night?” he asked. You glowered at him.

“You’re the fucking grouch,” you shot back. In times like these, you liked to fantasize. Sometimes you wished you could rip out his spine and play Jenga with the vertebrae.  

“And you’re the one who nearly got yourself killed,” he retorted.

You took issue with this, your brows raising high.

“Excuse me? You’re really blaming me for what happened with Sapphire? You were ready to take out my friend for making an honest mistake.”

His gaze briefly left the road, turning to you in frustration. He didn't understand how you couldn't get it through your thick skull. You had been one shaky step shy of being fucking vaporized today.

No blood. No body. Just...nothing.

“Case in point, you’re the best in Surveillance," he said gruffly. "You don’t need to be in the field."

His compliment stopped you, warming you a little, but he was missing the point.

“I go where I’m needed, just like you,” you said. “You don’t get to tell me how, when, or where to do my job.”

Needless to say, it was tense for the rest of the way home.

Ben helped you inside, after which, you were determined to get to the bedroom by yourself. He watched you hop away from him with a frustrated shake of his head.

He sighed and started to peel off his gloves and untie his boots…but instead of leaving them by the door, like he usually would, he kept walking until he made it to the bedroom he shared with you. He sat on the edge of the bed and took his boots off there.

He watched you ignore him as you closed yourself into the bathroom.

You came out of the shower a little while later. Your hair was damp, but unwashed as you hadn’t been able to stand there for very long. The wrap on your ankle had gotten wet, so you grabbed the spare one that the paramedic had given you.

Ben didn’t look at you as he took his turn heading into the bathroom. After the door shut, your shoulders slumped with a sigh.

You tried to put on some shorts, but you quickly gave up and instead put on an overlarge shirt over your underwear. You remembered then that this shirt was an old one of Ben’s, and now a favorite of yours, because it still smelled like that earthy mix of his cologne and aftershave.

Frowning, you sucked in a deep breath. And you made a decision.

By the time Ben came back out with a towel wrapped around his hips, he found you still in the bedroom. Except you were packing a suitcase—the same one he’d brought to the safe house he’d shared with you for a month.

You were stuffing clothes into it from your side of the dresser. Something churned uncomfortably in his stomach, and he approached you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded to know.

You glanced up at him, but continued packing.

“Well, you made yourself very clear this morning that we’re just roommates. So I’m going to the guest room.”

“All right, don’t get all fucking hormonal,” he said, reaching out with a hand to stop you. You snatched your hand away from him. His brows raised in disbelief.

When you tried to get past him on the way to your closet, he held fast to your arm. With an angry frown, he then grabbed your suitcase and spilled it over onto the bed. You didn’t need a fucking suitcase to move one room over. Not that he planned to let you go any-damn-where.

“Enough,” he said sharply.

You met his intense stare with your own, but your eyes were shining and red. In that moment, you both stilled. The silence was palpable. For you, it was heartbreaking.

“I can’t do this anymore, Ben,” you confessed. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall just yet. “I put my all into this, and I just…I can’t be with someone who won’t be honest with me.”

You started to grab your suitcase again, along with your discarded clothes. Ben stopped you. 

“I said enough,” he snapped. 

You then threw the heap of clothes to the floor, suitcase and all.

“Why?” you tearfully retorted. “Why should I listen to you?” 

His deep green eyes searched yours. For what, you didn’t know.

Eventually, you started to see through the cracks of his anger.

“Because I fucking love you,” he said. 

You blinked up at him, with hope stuck in your throat. But you were stubborn in your denial.

“You’re just saying that to get me off your back,” you argued. “Either you’ve just gotten used to having me around, or you just don’t feel like being alone. But you don’t really care about me.”

You knew you were saying words you didn’t mean.

You knew that wasn’t true…but you couldn’t help it.

You were more upset than angry now, seconds away from dissolving into pitiful tears. You were just stubborn enough to hold them at bay.

“Just shut up for one goddamn second,” Ben said. He held you by your shoulders, though his hands soon moved down to grip your arms. It wasn’t a painful hold, but it was firm, and quite possibly pleading.

Despite your better judgment, you gave him time to speak.

“You really think I’d stay here in this shithole if I didn’t want you?” he asked. “If I didn’t care about you?”

You unconsciously held your breath. For a long moment, he hesitated to continue.

Again, you waited for him.

Meanwhile, Ben knew he was being a coward. He’d been holding back. Not because he wasn’t serious about you, but because he’d been burned before. 

He knew he’d spent his life being a fucking bastard, in most ways. He knew he’d been wrong, and hadn’t given two shits about it. But Crimson Countess…Tess…he’d been willing to settle down with her. He’d actually told her he loved her and hadn’t been totally lying through his teeth. 

Yeah, he’d fucked around. Flirted with other women in front of her. He knew he was a hypocrite. Still, in whatever way he could at the time, he thought he’d loved her. 

And she’d lied to him. She’d gone through the motions of being with him. For fame or fear or whatever her reasons had been, she went along with it. And then she’d sold him out, along with the rest of their team. 

For nothing. Just to get him the fuck out of her life—out of the world. 

So what was he supposed to do with you? Just let you walk the fuck in, give you the deepest parts of him? A dark fucking space that he’d never given to anyone.

Well, he knew now if he didn’t, you were going to leave. But he wasn’t willing to let go either.

So…he relented. For once in his life, he told the truth.

“I love you,” Ben admitted. “In my whole damn life…I think you’re the only one who’s made me feel it for real.” 

Tears finally slipped down your cheeks. You reached out and grasped his wrist, mostly for stability as you took in his words. He took that hand, held it to his warm chest. Always warm. 

“But one day, I’m still going to fucking lose you,” he said, looking down on you. “Then I’ll be right back where I started.”

Alone. 

You looked up at him with a sad, rueful smile. 

“Not exactly where you started,” you replied. He wasn’t the same man you met last year. You pressed your free hand to his cheek.

“Taking Compound V doesn’t guarantee I’ll come out like you, with a longer lifespan.”

“It’s something the CIA can work on,” Ben said. 

“You want Dr. Baker to experiment on me?” you asked, quirking a brow. The CIA had recruited her, ironically enough.

Ben closed his eyes for a second, letting out a slight huff. “That’s not what I’m fucking saying.”

You nodded and soothed your fingers through his hair. 

“Okay, we’ll have that conversation. I promise.” Then you smiled. “But let me just have this moment…my boyfriend loves me.”

You looked into his eyes and you knew he meant it. His hands moved to your waist, around to the small of your back. You clung to his shoulders and shifted off your aching ankle with a wince. Ben noticed, and he raised you up to him. It had the added benefit of letting you reach his face easier.

He guided you into a searing kiss. You responded in kind, delving into his hair again and opening your mouth to his demanding tongue. With the tips of your toes, you pushed up from the ground and he helped you wrap your legs around his waist.

The towel he wore was starting to slip, and you shoved it the rest of the way off with your foot, until he stood in the center of the bedroom in all his glory. 

He smirked into your lips and walked you to the bed. But before he could lay you down, you broke the kiss and held his face.

“You really love me?” you asked, just to make sure. It was the part of you, perhaps still scarred deep down, that had to ask.

Ben chuckled. He rested his forehead against yours. “You’re mine, sweetheart. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You grinned, and you kissed him this time, only breaking when he lowered down to the bed. Once your back met the plush mattress, all bets were off. He wrenched your shirt up over your head, and you reached for him again.

Your lips drew a hot, wet path from his jawline to his neck, biting and sucking all along the way to that sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder. His hand clenched in your hair, a deep sound caught in his throat when he felt the sharp sting of your teeth, playfully biting, then soothing with your tongue.

Your nails bit into his skin, but merely felt like teasing down his back, making a shiver trill along his spine. He all but pressed you into the mattress as he made his own descent.

Your fingers trailed up and into his hair while his mouth worked its way down between your breasts, stopping to lavish attention on each one. You made sounds of pleasure when he took a hardened nipple between his lips, between his teeth, dragging deliciously over your skin.

Your thighs wrapped around his hips again, He bucked teasingly into your clothed core, making you moan when you felt his wet tip dampening your panties.

“Ben…”

His lips curved, but he didn’t answer you. His fingers were pressing into the flesh of your thigh as he continued to tease your breasts. You’d felt how hard he was already and frankly, you were surprised he was taking his time.

“Listen,” you panted in his ear. “You’ve gotta wrap it up this time. Do we even have condoms?”

You knew for a fact that Ben didn’t buy them. 

But his brows furrowed. His mouth left your breast as he looked up at you.

“What?”

“I haven’t replaced my IUD yet,” you confessed. Its five-year lifespan had been up, and so you’d gotten the birth control device removed a few days ago.

Now, you watched in amusement at the way his lips curved into a pleased grin.

“No, don’t you even think about it,” you warned. Though you almost laughed at how excited he looked. “We’re not ready for that.”

“Why fucking not?” Ben asked. His pressed his length against your core more insistently. The idea of fucking you raw, spilling into you, putting his seed deep inside you without resistance, had his cock throbbing with anticipation.

“Ben!” You had to laugh. You two hadn’t even been living together that long, and you had just gotten on the same page after six months of trying to figure out what you were together.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want kids,” he said. And he began to ply you with tantalizing kisses along the column of your throat, down your neck, the scraping of teeth making you shudder in delight.

“I do,” you could admit. “But is right now really the best ti—”

He choked a moan out of you as his fingers pushed your underwear aside and spread your folds, then delved right in. Your core pulsed, hot and wet as his thick digits sunk deep inside you.

“God,” you uttered, gripping his hair tight. He stretched and explored your inner channel with two fingers, while his thumb found your clit with ease.

“When then?” he asked. But his hand was unrelenting, working you over until your toes curled and the coil in your lower belly began to tighten. You looked up at him helplessly.   

“Can we talk about this later?” you keened. Ben smirked and suddenly withdrew his fingers from your dripping pussy. He snatched your underwear, ripping them down the middle and making you gasp.

“No time like the fucking present,” he insisted. He lined himself up to your entrance, but you stopped him with a warning look. You knew if you let him inside you now, he was going to try and get his way.

“Ben,” you warned.

He sighed and let you stop him, but then his teasing edge faded.

Ben pressed a hand to your cheek. When he leaned down to kiss you, you felt the need and wanting behind it. 

He pulled away to meet your eyes. You softened looking up into his, because you understood what he wanted.

“We have time, baby,” you promised, stroking his chin. “We’ll have a family…just give us some time.”

He was disappointed…but he nodded. Sighing again through his nose, he clenched a hand into the now tangled mess of your hair.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Say you’re fucking mine.”

Your eyes widened. In all of this, you’d forgotten to be honest yourself. 

“Of course I’m yours,” you said. “I love you, Ben. So much, I can hardly take it.” 

He closed his eyes with furrowed brows. It had been a very long time since he’d heard those words. Maybe the first time someone had said them with any real sincerity, besides his mother. 

You encouraged him to look at you, both with your voice and your hand gently touching his face. And when he opened his eyes, you marveled at the depths there. 

Smiling, you guided him back to your lips. It was slow and sweet…until it wasn’t, deepening in passion and urgency again. Need burned inside you, so deep and strong that you couldn't take it anymore.

You slipped a hand between you to grasp his still hard cock. You caressed him a few times, letting your thumb circle around the sensitive head. Ben couldn’t help thrusting into your hand, releasing a grunt. His eyes briefly closed again as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck, down his chest.

“I need you,” you whispered against his skin. Ben nodded while you held his length poised at your entrance. He raised your hips, tucking your ankles over shoulders. For your injured one, he rubbed your calf.

“What a fuckin’ trooper,” he said with a smirk.

You smiled, but it soon fell into a moan as he began to push inside you. Every time, he stretched and filled you completely. Your inner walls wrapped around him and already fluttered with heat.

“Fuck, baby doll. Got me tight as a damn glove,” Ben remarked. You had to giggle, but that just squeezed him harder. When he began to move, it was all you could do to cling to his shoulders.

As basic as the position was, you liked being able to see his face. You knew when to spur him on, and when to just hold on for dear fucking life. But above all, he was a skilled man, and you enjoyed watching him work.

You were so consumed by it that when he came, it took both of you by surprise. He spilled into you hot and deep, but he still filled you with ragged thrusts, which hit that special place inside that made your entire body shudder with pleasure. You couldn’t help but come apart with him.

Your nails bit fruitlessly into his skin as your voice rose on a high moan. The two of you panted for breath, and he pulled out and let down your legs back to the bed. Once you felt the telltale dripping of his release slipping down from between your legs, your eyes widened. 

Oh shit, you thought. “We forgot the condom.”

Ben stared down at you, first in confusion, then in surprise. And finally, with a broad, Cheshire-like grin.

You laid a hand over your eyes as you relaxed into the pillow behind your head, trying not to laugh.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said.

“We? I was following your lead,” Ben said. He moved to lay beside you in full satisfaction, folding his hands over his chest. He looked like the cat that caught the horny-ass canary.

"Haven't you heard of, oh, I don't know, pulling out?" you quipped. Ben rose a brow at you, still with that smug look on his face.

"Not my philosophy, sweetheart," he said.

Your mouth dropped open incredulously. Your gaze narrowed, but looking into his gleaming eyes, you really just had to laugh. His smile grew.

Ugh. Whatever, you thought. For now, you closed your legs and moved over to rest your head on his shoulder. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

What’re the chances that I’m ovulating anyway? you thought.

After a beat, you huffed another laugh. With your luck, you’d definitely have to stop at a drugstore for a pregnancy test.

And yet, in times like these, you were happy that you caved when Ben insisted on installing a TV in the bedroom. After you both got cleaned up, it was nice to fall into bed like you used to and find something new to watch together.

There were so many things you wanted him to catch up on, and he was generally game for whatever you thought he might like.

Three episodes of The Office later though, you stopped laughing so much and fell into your thoughts. Ben noticed, tugging on a loose strand of your hair.

“What’s the matter?”

“You really think our apartment is a shithole?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I might’ve embellished.”

“Seriously. If you’re not comfortable here—”

“I’m comfortable,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “Why’re you asking me that now?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I just want you to be happy here. I want this to feel like home for both of us, but not like, boring either.” 

He smirked. “Hence the caravan of whores and blow.” 

You shook your head with a laugh. But he still saw you trying to stem off that worry. That all this wasn’t enough for him. 

Well, Ben could complain about being cramped in this three-bedroom apartment…but he knew that when he came home, he wouldn’t be alone. 

He’d be able to see your stuff on the nightstand, by your side of the bed, your half of the closet, your sweet-smelling soaps and lotions in the bathroom. All of that was familiar to him now. 

It was home, he supposed. And so were you.

The beginnings of a softer smile curved his lips, but he edged it into a smirk.  

“You’ve got something they don’t,” he said. 

“What’s that?” you asked, raising a brow. 

“You try the ever-living fuck out of my patience,” he said, “unlike anyone on the planet.” 

With a giggle, you rolled over onto his arm and chest, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“Buuut…?” 

He conceded with a nod, if also a roll of his eyes. His arm lifted to once again slip around your waist.

“But no matter how fucked up it got, you stayed.”

With me, his tone implied.

“That’s more than anyone else in my goddamn life,” he said.

And that made you tear up all over again.

“So you’re staying,” you clarified, only half-teasing.

It reminded you of when you’d sat tied to a chair, wondering why the hell Soldier Boy would want to let you live. You could’ve never known it then, but you’d stared straight into the face of your future.

You didn’t know if Ben was remembering the same thing, but he smiled a little, brushing away your tears with his thumb.

“I’m staying,” he replied. Your smile brightened, and you leaned up for a kiss.

“Then we’re square,” you whispered against his lips. 

He chuckled and deepened the kiss. He turned off the TV, chucking the remote further down the bed and turned to trap you beneath him again.

“Nope.” You finished wiping your eyes and pushed against his chest. “You’re not finessing me twice. Go find a damn condom.”

He gave you a grumpy look. “Fucking killjoy.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed. You reached up and took his face in your hands.

“I promised, didn’t I?” you reminded. “We’ll get there.”

His gaze searched yours.

“Soon, not someday,” he said. You nodded, soothing your thumb across his cheek.

“Soon,” you agreed. And you reminded him, even as your throat constricted once more with emotion. “Ben, I love you…God, I love you. And I’ve never wanted this with anyone but you.”

Ben paused, but after a moment, he nodded in acceptance. You were grateful for it. Even though you weren’t quite ready yet, he wasn’t the only one who wanted a family.

While your fractured past and upbringing made it hard for you to move past your fears, your insecurities, you knew that this man made you feel safe.

For the first time in your life, you also felt whole.

Soon enough, you’d be brave too.

AN: That's all, folks. Been a great ride...

Ha! Just kidding. I'm nowhere near done with these two, even with this long-ass epilogue lol.

But honestly, no matter what part of the journey you jumped into with this story, thank you so much for sticking with me until the end. It's truly been one of my favorite stories ever to write. And I'm so glad I got the chance to share it with you. 🥹💚🥹

Next Time:

Ready for Part 2 (of 3) of "Love Actually"?

(AKA: Ben is forced to attend Christmas dinner to meet his girlfriend's whole family.)

Here's a sneak peek:

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

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

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

😂 Until then, let me know what you thought of the BMD finale! 💚💚

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[blue-mood-blue]

They tell him that his name is Benzaiten Steel.

They tell him that he’s been shot.

Officially, publicly, his condition is unknown - they haven’t released any details yet, pending the investigation. As he understands it, the investigation amounts to his mother and brother pointing to each other in accusation, both of them held in separate interview rooms of the HCPD while Ben lays in his hospital bed. They were hoping he could give them answers, Ben realizes when the doctor and the officer both hover around his door uncertainly before turning to go.

But Ben doesn’t remember anything. He can’t tell them if his brother in law enforcement went corrupt or if his mentally ill mother finally slipped too far. If it was an argument, or an accident, or which of his incredibly small family is more likely to lie. He wouldn’t have been able to tell them his name if they hadn’t told him first, because Ben hardly remembers anything at all.

It’s the head injury, the nurse tells him at two in the morning while she gives him more pain medication. Not from the blast, which had caught him in the shoulder and was more than enough damage to a body on its own, according to her. He must have hit his head on something on the way down, gave himself a nasty bump and some swelling. Nothing to worry about too much, she added quickly after getting a good glance at Ben’s expression. Just... just the memories might not come back. Hard to tell with these things.

Ben chews over the possibility after she leaves, slipping in and out of sleep. He should want to know, right? He should be searching for those memories, and the way he fit between them. He should be looking for himself... looking for the truth.

There are two people in his family. One of them shot him. He can’t imagine a truth there that wouldn’t tear him in two anyway.

Ben takes a moment to pity whoever it was he used to be - must’ve had a sad life, in the middle of that mess. Couldn’t possibly have been happy, in that little apartment in Oldtown, no one to call or contact besides the people led away in handcuffs. Such a small, tiring existence... didn’t he feel stifled, trapped? He does now. He thinks about going back to that, and he can’t breathe.

Ben looks at the window instead. He can make out some stars, but only a few - it’s hard to see much around the light pollution and the dome. He doesn’t remember, but logic tells him he hasn’t lived the kind of life that’s ever taken him off of Mars; he’s never seen any of those stars, or the planets around them, or their moons - not really. He thinks he might like to, and it’s almost a surprise when the thought comes to him; it’s as if his mind has been cleared of some dome hemming him in, holding him in place, and now there’s room to want. Ben feels untethered, adrift... free. Free in a way he knows, somehow, he’s never been before.

It’s a heady feeling. For the first time since waking, Ben smiles. He could be free. He could reach up to those stars and never come back down.

Benzaiten Steel might not remember anything about himself, but he learns that he’s a good actor. When the officer comes back with more questions, Ben tells them he’s afraid for his life, more afraid because he doesn’t know who or what to fear. “Be honest,” he asks, voice shaking with something (not fear, but the officer doesn’t know that). “Do you think this could happen again? Am I really safe?”

Benzaiten Steel is declared dead, and Ben boards a ship.

~~~

He still calls himself Ben; everything else, he cuts away and leaves behind as deadweight. He’s Ben Nothing, Ben Nobody, and he runs between the stars like there’s something chasing him. He finds work where he can, and he finds that the most lucrative work is the illegal kind. He finds that he’s good at it, charming people with a smile or disarming them with a few tears, and then liberating them from whatever they have in their pocket, or safe, or bank account.

Ben is happy. Ben is competent, secure, well-liked in the circles he moves through. Ben is as free as he ever wanted to be, in this life or any other. And if he feels like something unnamed is breathing down his neck some days, well, he is a thief, isn’t he? There’s always someone after him, law enforcement on several planets at least. If he avoids Mars and anywhere too close to that little, red planet, it’s his own business. There’s not much on Mars, anyway; only the Cerberus Province and the connections he could make there, and it’s a small sacrifice to make for all of the things he gets to see.

Ben isn’t lonely. He just feels a little adrift sometimes.

And it’s years before anything catches him.

He has a jewel that toppled a dynasty with the conflict it caused hidden in his pocket, and he slips into a dark, mostly empty theater to wait out the afternoon and the authorities. He already has a spot waiting for him on a ship traveling several planets away, but it won’t take off for hours. He has plenty of time.

Ben pulls out his comms to waste some hours, ignoring the movie playing on the screen; a kids’ movie, probably with the hope that whole families would make the effort of taking a trip to the theater to spend time together. It was a bad gamble, with the only person there other than Ben asleep in a chair in the corner. Ben snorts; kind of a stupid thought, that anyone would bother when they could stream whatever old movies they wanted directly to their home.

He’s in the middle of a game when he looks up at the screen. There’s a woman fighting a dragon, and he isn’t sure what caught his attention until it happens again.

“Andromeda!” someone on the screen yells.

Ben’s head hurts.

Andromeda! a younger Benzaiten yells. He can feel the warm sun beating down on him, the familiar sounds of shouting down a street somewhere too far away to worry about. His voice, thin and reedy and so young, makes its best attempt at a growl. You will never escape me!

“You will never escape me!”

His head throbs, and he could cry with how much it hurts.

I do not intend to run - I will stay and fight, because good must always succeed! Someone with his face answers back, swinging a sword made of paper towel rolls and too much duct tape, and then breaks from the script: And I’m faster than you anyway, Benten, so I can escape whenever I want to.

For a moment, he rests on the divide between Ben and Benzaiten. If he tries, he could pull back - but he also knows he could no more let go of that voice than tear his own heart out.

Juno. A knowledge from the long-dormant pieces of him whispers an answer he doesn’t ask for, as it drags the whole of his messy, painful history with it. That’s Juno. Your twin. Your family.

Benzaiten is still crying, hurt radiating from his head and his chest, and there’s no one around to care so he doesn’t stop. He watches the stupid movie three times, then boards a ship and tries to hide the evidence with makeup and a bright smile. He’s two planets away by the time he thinks about going back, all the way back, and by the time he’s three planets away he’s decided that it would be a ridiculous idea.

It’s been years. Fuck, it’s been so many years. Does Juno live in the same place? What if he’s married now; out of the two of them, he was always the one looking for someone to hold onto him. Would he even want to see Ben?

The answer should be yes, but Ben’s not an idiot, he knows reality is more complicated. Juno buried him, and mourned for him, and maybe even started to heal - and Ben had run. Run without looking back, leaving a death certificate and open wounds behind him.

Is Sarah still alive?

The question stops him cold, staring through the window and the pieces of galaxy he’s passing. If Sarah is alive, he would have to see her, too. That’s a promise he made himself a long time ago - that he wouldn’t choose between them. He was the one who held the family together. He’d always been that.

The Benzaiten in his head, the person he isn’t sure he is yet - anymore - tells him she loves you.

Ben, here and now, tells him she shot you.

Both of those things are true. And when Ben pulls away from the window, he tells himself that’s what he’s afraid of, that someone he loved hurt him and could do it again, that he might let them in the foolish, stupid need to find out if the love was still there somewhere under all of the hurt. To know trying hard enough could mean getting better.

If there’s another fear, if he can feel the gravity of Mars pulling him back and down and heavy, he doesn’t let himself think it. And he’s gotten pretty good at deception, so he might even believe it.

~~~

Ben dances more, when he remembers dancing. Nothing feels as free as the movement, as his total control over it. Not even the stars.

How much of his running was escape, and how much was just running?

~~~

He still calls himself Ben.

He has his reasons. “Benzaiten” is too memorable, and sharing a face and a last name with a sibling seems like a really good way to get that sibling into trouble. There’s a reputation in place already with the name he used. There are days when he doesn’t feel like he fits in Benzaiten’s life. He finds plenty of reasons.

He doesn’t visit. He thinks about it, comes close - as close as a planet and one ticket fare away, once - but Ben can’t bring himself to step foot in Hyperion City. Hyperion belongs to Juno, somehow. He was the one who stayed (I do not intend to run - I will stay and fight), and going home feels like... trespassing. Ben knows Juno wouldn’t say that. It doesn’t stop him from thinking it.

Hyperion City has a newspaper, though, and a subscription service that seems a little optimistic in its range. Maybe not all that optimistic, since Ben regularly takes advantage of it - between jobs, and only on his personal comms. Most of it has nothing to do with him, but he skips and skims through the digitized pages anyway, looking for whatever hints of a life he can find. Juno is a private investigator now, which doesn’t surprise Ben. There’s an engagement announcement and no following marriage announcement, which does.

(Sarah is guilty, and dead, and he doesn’t know how he feels about that. He doesn’t linger on the thought.)

Sometimes, when he feels brave, he imagines what it could be like. So what’s this about a gala at that new art gallery? You know, the one that lasted a whole night before it got blown up?

Juno’s laughter from the other side of the comms connection, maybe a little too young. Uh huh, I heard. The HCPD put it all over the news, along with how they saved the day. Or didn’t you hear that part?

They can say whatever they want, I know a Juno Steel case when I see one. Now, Ben adjusts on the bed, miles and miles away, glancing at the window to see if he can get a peek back the way he came, tell me everything.

Maybe the next time you come to see me, Juno says, and just like that the thought disintegrates. He can never put too many words in Juno’s mouth; there are just too many things he doesn’t know.

Ben gets lucky one day and sees a whole half a picture of Juno, looking out on a crowd. He’s not the focus - he’s standing next to some politician in the middle of a speech, a Ramses O’Flaherty who makes a lot of promises that sound like the “too good to be true, but wouldn’t it be nice” kind - but Ben will take what he can get. He can’t decide if Juno has more or less scars than he would have expected, given his line of work. He wonders how they all got there. Juno is standing on the stage with the politician; he must buy some of those promises to put himself so clearly in the man’s corner.

There’s a kind of worry in his gut about it, but Ben tries to take it as a good sign. The Juno he knew had a hard time trusting people; it would be nice if he’d found someone to believe in. It would be nice if that trust is well-placed.

Ben has to leave his comms behind for a job, taking a burner along instead, so he gets the results of the election at the same time he gets the announcement of O’Flaherty’s death and the conspiracy over Newtown. It doesn’t have to mean anything - just another politician who wasn’t what he seemed to be, or didn’t manage to hang on long enough to make good on his promises. That’s all it is.

He still looks for Juno in the stories he reads. He can’t seem to find him, anymore.

~~~

For the first time since they were nineteen, Benzaiten sees Juno across the room.

For a moment, he feels like he’s seen a ghost. A ridiculous thought, from the dead twin.

Juno Steel is so far away from Hyperion City, talking to Zolotovna in a resplendent dress as if he’s lived the kind of life that makes him belong, immediately and implicitly, among the disgustingly rich. Ben, who is there for a reason, he knows he’s there for a reason but fuck if he can remember why, tries not to make it obvious that he’s staring. He’s failing at that, he knows.

But Juno is here. Juno is here in the room with him, so different than he remembers, with so many more scars. With one less eye. Ben wants to ask when that happened, wants to demand that story, just as much as he wants to fade into the crowd and run.

He feels untethered; he feels like, if he runs, he’ll never find his way back again. Just this once, Ben lets himself understand that the tug of gravity pulling him back was never a leash around his neck as much as it was a rope around his middle - giving him a way back home. Juno had always been his anchor, keeping him from drifting too far.

There’s no going back, now. There’s no going home, no home to go back to.

Juno’s glance turns in his direction, and Ben is about to duck out of the way - an amateur move, guaranteed to catch his sibling’s eye, but he thinks he can be forgiven for being a little bit off his game - when Ben realizes he’s not who Juno is looking for. A man slips by him, tall and confident and familiar in a way that tells Ben exactly why he should be familiar. Juno can’t seem to help the way his face changes when he spots the man.

So the thief grabbed at Juno’s heart and pulled him away from Hyperion. That’s why Juno is here. It’s... infuriating, because there’s no way a common con deserves Juno Steel. Because it was never a thought in Ben’s head that Juno could be convinced to leave Hyperion, and he never thought to ask. (I do not intend to run. Running was Ben’s job.)

Ben is ready to do something stupid. He’s halfway across the ballroom, walking directly towards his brother well and aware that the impact will cause an explosion of a scene, when he sees Juno tilt his head.

There’s a comms in his ear.

Ben has been a thief long enough to recognize the habits of another thief - especially a new one.

He doesn’t remember what he came to this event for, but there’s nothing, mark or prize or job, that Benzaiten wants more than to understand the stranger in the dress who almost has his face. If he breaks something with an impulsive decision, he thinks as he continues to cross the room, well - wouldn’t be the first time.

He’ll let himself be selfish. That’s what Ben does.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Heartstopper prompt -

Ben makes a mean comment about Charlie’s body in recovery and he struggles with relapsing

first off, happy three months of heartstopper, and thank you so much for 2k followers!? i would love to do a celebration but don’t know how, so if anyone has any thoughts let me know <3 and for now i have this.

this took me way longer than initially planned because i initially wasn’t sure whether to write it or not—it’s a tone i haven’t written in a really long time, and i didn’t want to do it wrong! i can’t speak from experience in this case, but i tried to be as thoughtful and authentic as i believe alice is, and i hope i’ve done okay. but if i haven’t, especially in these instances, please feel free to tell me!

safe to say, warnings for depictions of charlie’s eating disorder and ocd, and thoughts and mentions of self-harm. this tone is more solitaire-like and less fluffy and dialogue-heavy like my other fics (at least for the first half). i want to clarify no actual self-harm occurs, but if you do read, please do so with care.

also, it’s over 6k. fair warning.

~^~

Charlie wasn’t that upset that his plan of moving to Higgs was trashed by the school burning down. Really. He meant what he’d said, about staying with Nick, and it being fine. The upside to it was that he was now already going to school with Tori and all of his friends, anyway. It also brought people back, like Elle, and Michael Holden, who Charlie could now probably say was also his friend. 

It also meant Ben Hope.

The return of his presence shouldn’t have been a big deal. Charlie was planning to switch to Higgs knowing Ben was there, because it still felt like the lesser evil. Now with the schools merging, Truham had to step up from its hellhole slightly. Now, at Truham, the people Charlie wanted to get away from suddenly had more interesting people to bother, and the people he’d wanted to escape to were all here. 

Plus Nick, and Tao, and Aled. 

But mostly Nick. 

It should have been an improvement, really. A better outcome than he’d even initially hoped for. Easier to handle all around. 

Maybe it was still the toxicness of Truham. Charlie had never given much thought to why Ben left (though he assumed it was likely at-least-in-part due to him), but he imagined having to come back would mess with your head, if you’d been trying to escape like he’d planned to. (Michael mostly confirmed this for him. Having Tori and ‘acquaintances like Nick Nelson’ around him now apparently helped. Charlie could understand that part.) 

He realised he’d just never fully thought about having to pass Ben in the hallways again, or to catch sight of him across the courtyard.

Or to have Ben looking back. 

“He knows better than to do anything more,” Nick had said, a little darkly (venomously) with his arm wrapped around Charlie at some point in the first week, when Ben had made the mistake of catching his eye. “If he says one word or comes within ten feet, I swear to God.”

Charlie had murmured platitudes and felt silently sick, but he’d believed Nick was right, for a while. 

But Truham was only so big, and it was impossible to ignore anyone forever—especially if they wanted to be noticed. 

And Ben had never been able to accept Charlie’s attempts to ignore him. 

It didn’t even seem intentional, at first. Charlie didn’t even think any of the boys surrounding the bench knew he was there, right within hearing distance. He’d thought he’d heard his name, in those quiet, scandalised, gossipy tones that had covered it in the past few months since he came back to school. Then he caught more of the conversation, and he knew he’d heard it, amidst claims of it’s not like he can hide it, just look at him and it doesn’t even make sense though and yeah, he hardly thinks he’s fat, does he? like, what’s the point?, and then he caught the more familiar voice, and all his attempts to block it out shattered. 

“I’d be more concerned about how Nelson’s brain works. Hugging a sack of ribs would be bad enough, but he looks like he’d snap in half if you bent him over. Bit of a weird turn on, innit?”

There were quiet, half-embarrassed snickers mingled with outright laughter and a few jeers. Ben’s self-satisfied smirk was unsurprising to Charlie even before Ben’s gaze swiveled directly to him. 

Charlie sucked in a breath, and his fight-or-flight instinct finally overrode the frozen mode he was in. He chose, obviously, to flee. It didn’t matter that he’d mean planning to meet Nick so they could go home together, because Nick didn’t know that. Charlie could spin on his heel and run to his bus, and no one would think anything was amiss. So he did. 

Objectively, Charlie knew what was starting to spin in his brain was wrong. Objectively, he knew Ben was an asshole and his words were meant to hurt Charlie and that didn’t mean they meant anything. Objectively, he knew Nick loved him and that Nick would give a list of ways he found Charlie attractive if asked, and he knew that Nick enjoyed hugs generally, but especially with Charlie. Objectively—realistically—he knew he wouldn’t actually snap in half very easily. 

Objectively, Charlie knew Ben’s words never really meant anything and Ben wasn’t in control of him. 

But, maybe because Charlie’s brain didn’t care about being objective, or maybe because it was Ben, it didn’t matter what meager rationalisations he could come up with. He suddenly felt he had no control over himself, precisely because he’d made control the centre of everything. 

It hadn’t actually gotten him anything he wanted, had it? 

He could take control, and he would take up less space, and he would have less needs, and he wouldn’t feel as bad when he was being annoying and pathetic and undeserving. That was what he’d always thought. That was how it always felt. 

But he had ended up, really, with even more needs. Taking up more spaces. Beyond annoying, pityingly pathetic, so far below undeserving. He was a fool, to think he was in charge of it. He’d made himself ugly, he’d made himself sickly, he’d made himself weak. That was what he’d done, with all his control. 

It had been too much, waiting for the harm to come from somewhere else, and it was always better, once he took matters into his own hands, once he admitted it was the most he deserved, that his lack of strength in ignoring everything going in should of course result in a little pain getting it out. 

It had been too much, holding all the ugliness on the inside. He’d meant to let it out. 

He hadn’t meant for it to cover him instead. 

That hadn’t been his choice, not really. 

He’d never been in control. 

And now he had even less strength than before. 

This is what he managed to think through on the bus, which meant by the time he got home, he’d turned to thinking, I can change that. I can make a different choice. I’m in control of what I do. 

He went straight to the kitchen when he got home, coat and shoes and bag abandoned in the hallway and mind racing and channeled and determined. He went for the cupboards. 

It wasn’t time to eat, but he wasn’t looking for anything on his plan, anyway. He grabbed the bread, and set it on the counter, and stared at it. 

Bread was filling. Bread was fattening. Bread didn’t have all that much of a flavour—he had a lot of choice in what he could put with it. Charlie had seen Nick wolf down slice after slice of bread, toasted or as a sandwich or both, in a matter of minutes, and it was both soft and sturdy, and so was Nick. And it wasn’t unhealthy. He would get some nutrients out of it, and it wasn’t greasy, or slimy, or overly chewy, or even that big, really. Toast, and sandwiches, and even soup paired with one mere slice had all filtered into his meal plans before. And this was brown bread, and that was healthier. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it. 

But the thought of taking out a slice and doing anything with it, of biting into it, of it slipping down his throat and settling into his stomach, felt very, very far from right. 

That was fine. It wasn’t the only option. He could find something else, something a little healthier, something he liked a little more, that still held some weight, that he didn’t really need to take much of. He could find a few things, and then figure out which was best. 

He ended up emptying the cupboard, then moving to the next, then the next, until he had all his options lined out on the counters, vaguely organised by what seemed preferable, and what he’d get the most out of it. 

Maybe he should check the fridge. Maybe having something to pair them with would help. Maybe he could find something light, but nutritious, something that was bulky but didn’t feel like it, that he could eat on its own. Something cool, and smooth, that would slip down easy. 

Once most of the contents of the fridge were organised on the counter, he still hadn’t made up his mind. 

He tried the freezer. 

Then he realised he had everything organised by what seemed most beneficial and least undesirable, but it would be easier to decide if all those things were organised together rather than by cupboard, fridge, and freezer, and he made new stacks, and made those stacks into new bundles. 

His hands were wet and chilly from holding damp and frozen packaging, and that was transferring onto cardboard boxes and plastic-sheet coverings and making them soggy and slippy, which was making his stomach churn, which was making even the least undesirable options still seem not-at-all desirable. 

Like him, he supposed. 

He stared at what he’d done and curled his arms around his stomach, and they curled too far, so he had to drop them and cover his mouth to swallow the sob-whine-gag building in him, and the touch against his lips made his skin prickle, so he had to grip his hair and press in and pull to get himself together, and all he could think about was each tip of his finger pressing a hard point into his skull, bone against bone. 

Was that what Nick felt, every time he touched him? 

Hugging a sack of ribs would be bad enough. 

It made Charlie want to be sick. 

But quickly taking over from the self-pity was the fear. 

He’d basically emptied his kitchen. For nothing. Everything was out in the open, softening and heating and defrosting; being destroyed, for nothing. The thought of any of it in his stomach, laying and churning and rotting, was too much to even consider. 

And he couldn’t remember where everything went. 

He’d taken everything from everywhere. He’d kept moving them around. Everything that was now damp, and soggy, and softening, and defrosting, and rotting, and in the wrong place. How had it been organised? Where had the rest of his family, with their normal brains, had everything? He couldn’t remember. He wasn’t sure he paid enough attention to know in the first place. 

But Tori cooked. His parents cooked. His parents did the shopping. They would know. 

They would come back—any time now—and they would see, and they would know. Charlie had no way of preventing it. He had no way of covering it. He had absolutely no control over what they would think or say or do about it. 

He dragged his tightly clutched fists out to the ends of his hair, both so his hands were no longer in direct contact with his head and so the pull elicited a slight sting over his scalp. His hands shook. It bordered on too much. His pulse pounded. It was nowhere near enough. 

The thing was, his family wouldn’t care so much, if it meant something. If it could be taken as progress. If he took everything, something that was softening or defrosting or rotting and saved it; if he ate something. If it meant he’d at least get some bulk around his bones, like he’d been planning to. Like he’d convinced himself he was going to, that there was a chance that he could. 

It would be easier, he thought, to open up his skin and rearrange his flesh. It wasn’t the usual motivator, but it didn’t seem like too much of a stretch. It became all too tempting the more his hands shook and his scalp stung and his skin prickled, all of his body too sharp, too tight, too much. 

How could he put everything back right, in time? Where did everything go? How much could he get wrong without really making anyone notice? 

If he put everything back, it was further proof he’d failed without even trying. He’d made it this far—everything was set out, everything was organised, and in place, and ready. He’d done all the work to get this far. He couldn’t just put it back. He had to get rid of the evidence. He had to do it quickly. 

His skin was too tight and he wanted it off. 

Please, he thought. Please let me out. 

“Charlie?”

The front door shut over the tail-end of Nick’s call, and Charlie made a strangled noise, and leaped for the door. He threw his weight against it—all the little there was of it, and it was too much, the door banging and the footsteps in the hall coming to a stop. 

“Charlie?” Nick tried again. “You down here?”

The steps got closer, and Charlie swallowed another strangled sound, and snatched at the door handle as soon as it moved. “Don’t come in here,” he blurted. 

He was holding onto the handle with all his strength, but he was wasting it—it had gone utterly still. 

Nick’s voice was right there, now, but Charlie didn’t think that was what quietened it. “Charlie?”

Charlie held the handle tighter and stared at where the packet of bread was beginning to slip off the packets of ham and cheese. 

“What are you doing, Char?” Nick asked, and Charlie felt pressure on the handle again. Nick’s voice was right there, and it sounded like it was coming to Charlie through a dozen dams and an ocean of water. But that might’ve just been the wobble in it. “Charlie, let me in.”

“Don’t,” Charlie gasped, automatic again. His hands were already starting to sweat and slip, and it intensified the buzz along the rest of his skin. It wouldn’t ease, no matter how much he shifted and shuffled and shivered it out of him. “It’s—I’m fine. Just don’t. Leave me a while.”

The handle jiggled in his hand. He pressed himself against the door as he felt it starting to press back. 

Nick’s voice was even closer, and ragged. “No, Char. What are you doing? I’m not leaving. Can you let me in?”

Charlie shook his head—too sharp, too much—and it swam, and Nick couldn’t even see it. “Don’t,” he repeated, almost a sob. 

“Charlie,” Nick said—stronger now, even with the wobble. Always strong, and steady, and more than enough, and never too much. Charlie’s hands slackened. “Charlie, please let me—I’m coming in, okay? I need you to open the door, because I’m coming in. I really don’t want to hurt you, but I have to come in, so I need you to open the door. Please, Charlie.”

Charlie couldn’t. Couldn’t open the door. Couldn’t ignore the crack that snuck through the wobble in Nick’s voice. Couldn’t ignore Nick. Couldn’t let anyone see. Couldn’t tell Nick no. The bread slid from its perch. It toppled the carefully organised stack to its right. Charlie let go of the door and buried his hands back in his hair. Nick opened the door and came in. 

Charlie had already paced over to where the bread had fallen, had taken ham and biscuits and frozen pies with it and drawn something like a low, long whine from his throat. By the time Nick was in the room, he was backing against the island and beginning a slow slide to the floor. 

He could do nothing but watch Nick watch. He saw as Nick’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, as he looked over the mess Charlie had made, and the mess that Charlie himself was. As his face screwed back up into something frantic and fearful and his steps never faltered. “God, what have you done?” he asked, making it to Charlie as Charlie made it to the floor. 

“I’m sorry,” Charlie said, no more than a panicked breath. Then, understanding, “I didn’t.”

He wasn’t sure Nick heard him. “Jesus, Charlie, you can’t do that,” Nick said, and he wasn’t angry. Charlie knew he wasn’t angry, that the most Nick ever got towards being angry with him were the occasional tired or hurt twists of frustration. It wasn’t anger that made Nick’s voice wobble and crack as he crouched down in front of Charlie, because Nick wasn’t angry, he was terrified. And that was worse. “Charlie, God, let me see.”

Charlie rapidly shook his head and brandished his hands at Nick, empty and clean and unharmed, and repeated, “I didn’t, I didn’t. I’m sorry, I didn’t, I’m really sorry.”

Some of the terror slipped away in favour of softness, and then Nick was there. His hands touched Charlie’s cheeks, his fingertips trails of warmth at the edge of Charlie’s hair where moments before Charlie’s own touch had felt like ice, so coldly sharp that it caused physical pain. 

“Hey, no s-word,” Nick chided—somewhat automatically, Charlie thought—as he let out a slow breath. “It’s okay, we’re okay. I didn’t mean to panic you. I’m sorry, it’s okay.”

Charlie released his hair and leaned his face into Nick’s hands, letting his own grip at the air instead. His breath came quick and rattling, but as Nick shushed him, some of the din in his head quietened. “I didn’t,” Charlie repeated, unable, apparently, to say anything else. In a whisper, he added, “I want to.”

Nick’s face shuttered again, and though Charlie was expecting it, he hated himself for it. But Nick only took another slow breath, and briefly gripped Charlie’s cheeks harder. Charlie finally settled his hands on Nick’s biceps as his eyes watered, and Nick took the invitation and wrapped him up in a tight hold. 

“Did something happen?” Nick asked softly, voice muffled from where his mouth was pressed to Charlie’s hair and Charlie’s ear was pressed to Nick’s chest. Charlie clutched him more tightly, and felt him sigh after a moment’s silence. “You’re safe, Char. I’ve got you now.”

Charlie swallowed the sob building in him. Lingering panic still prickled all over. His body buzzed with the familiar sensation of wrongness. Part of him wanted to peel himself out of Nick’s arms and shove him away. To hide, to finish what he’d been doing, to continue tearing himself apart, piece by piece. He shoved that away instead. 

It was weak. But he didn’t have to be strong. He didn’t have to fight, because he was safe, and he could fall down, because Nick would hold him up. 

Because Nick was strong. Because he was healthy, and normal. 

“I can’t remember where they go,” Charlie said, his voice cracking this time. “I can’t put them back properly.” 

A brief pause, then an, “Oh.” Charlie felt a kiss pressed to the top of his head. “It’ll be okay.”

Suddenly, Charlie was glad it was Nick. It didn’t matter that an hour ago he’d turned tail to avoid seeing Nick, or that thirty minutes ago he would have done anything to prevent Nick from seeing him. It only mattered that it wasn’t worse. Charlie wasn’t sure what his mother would have said or done, if she’d been the one to find him in this state, and he honestly didn’t want to ponder on it—tried not to, lest it sent him into a new panic.

But he knew exactly what it was like to do that to Tori. 

His annoying big sister, the only other person in the world who was never truly angry with him, the only person in the world whose love Charlie didn’t doubt for a second. Tori, who Charlie could never be angry with and who he loved unconditionally, who took all of Charlie’s pain atop her own and never once blamed him for it. 

Tori, who Charlie had seen hurting just as much, and who he only ever managed to hurt more. 

God, where was Oliver? How careless could Charlie still be? 

“I need to fix it,” Charlie said, urgent now. “I don’t want them to—they can’t—“

Charlie broke off, and Nick held him tighter, and Charlie was so glad it was Nick. 

“You don’t want them to know,” Nick finished for him. He sighed again, a breath in Charlie’s ear with their temples touching. Nick pressed against him a little harder, then rolled his head gently, so they were forehead to forehead. “I think it would be better if they did, but I won’t be the one to tell them. You need to call Geoff, though.”

Charlie’s stomach churned again, both with how frustrated and nervous the mere thought made him and with how unfailingly understanding and kind Nick was. So strong and still so soft. 

What attracted him to Charlie, who was neither? 

“I will,” he managed, in response to Nick’s gentle order. He couldn’t look at him, this close, but he could feel it when Nick nodded in response, and that was almost better. 

“Alright,” Nick said, giving Charlie one more gentle squeeze before slowly shifting away and getting to his feet. “We need to get everything back in the freezer, first, then. Actually, we can do dinner as we go. What’s on your plan tonight, again?”

Now Charlie stared up at him. The buzz along his skin bordered on debilitating as it spread into his ears. Nick was understanding. Nick knew him better than anyone. He thought Nick understood. “Nick,” he choked. “It’s not—I can’t.”

Nick was already shaking his head, looking down at Charlie, still without a hint of anger or pity. “I’m not making you do anything, Char, promise. But it’s been helping, sticking to the plan. Right? So I’m just going to do that, okay?”

Nick was right. Charlie knew that. The plan had been helping. Even if he couldn’t always manage to go through with it, sticking to it held some element of comfort—some small sense of strength. It wouldn’t help to disrupt it. 

But there was a pressure that came with it that Charlie couldn’t always handle. Now felt like one of those times. 

“I can’t sit and do that,” he whispered. “That’ll upset them even more, and—”

“You don’t have to,” Nick promised. “We’re going to hang out in your room. And I’ll bring it up, and you can have some if you want to, or don’t. And you can tell me what‘s up, or not. Is that…does that sound manageable?”

Charlie caught on. He could see it, now, lingering on the outskirts of Nick’s puffed chest and soft smiles. His hands fidgeted at his sides, curling and fluttering and tapping, and his wide eyes remained worried where they gazed down at Charlie. Nick couldn’t fix this. They’d both always known that. Charlie had always known that this frustrated Nick more than him. Nick could only do—well, what he could. 

Even if that was just sticking to the plan. 

Charlie nodded, and the ringing in his ears receded as relief rounded Nick’s shoulders. 

“Okay,” Nick said, with a bit more surety. “Then this stuff really needs to go back in the freezer, and you need to get chatting to Geoff.”

It could have felt pushy, and like too much of an order, but all Charlie could notice was how Nick didn’t touch any of his carefully arranged food until he’d picked himself up and left the room. It was a more generous compromise than he deserved. 

Especially given he didn’t actually chat to Geoff. He pulled out his phone and planned to, but the more he thought about hitting the call button, the more his hands shook. He ended up tapping the message icon instead, which was a compromise he hoped Nick would be okay with. 

Hi, Geoff. I wanted to know if I could maybe make an earlier appointment than planned? 

This was better—kinder—than simply ringing his therapist out of the blue, anyway. The man had his own life, and while he told Charlie he could call him at any time if it was ever necessary, Charlie knew no one could be available twenty-four-seven. Surely, Nick would see the logic in this as well. There was a chance Geoff wouldn’t even reply to him this evening. 

His phone buzzed in less than a minute, but that slim chance had existed. 

Of course, Charlie. When were you thinking? I’m free for you to give me a call now if you feel it’s in any way urgent. 

Charlie blew out a breath, shaking his head slightly. But that alone made him feel a little better. 

No, that’s okay. Nick’s here now. It’s not that urgent. 

Tomorrow, then? I have a slot right after you’d be finished up with school. 

That works. Thank you.

Call me before then if you need to! 

A small smile tweaked at Charlie’s lips as another breath escaped him, just as Nick nudged through the door with two plates in hand. He paused at the sight of Charlie with his phone still in hand, a tentative smile taking over his own face. “Did you talk to him?”

Charlie hesitated, and eventually just turned his phone around to show Nick. “I can’t ring, but, I’m going to see him tomorrow?”

Nick quickly read over the messages—softening, likely at the sight of his own name—and nodded his acceptance, though a small furrow formed in his brow. “Will you be okay until then? Is it…I mean, you don’t have to go to school tomorrow.”

“I should.” Charlie shook his head. “I will. It’s not that bad, honestly.”

Nick tucked one of the plates on a free spot on Charlie’s desk, where it became mostly unnoticeable. He settled onto Charlie’s bed with the other on his lap and a concerned, disbelieving look. 

Charlie knew it would slip right off his face if he just sat down, picked one thing off the plate, and took a single bite. 

He couldn’t, though. 

So he sat down and curled his arms around one of Nick’s, and tucked his face against Nick’s shoulder. “I’ll have to tell my parents something, since I’ve moved my appointment.”

Nick relaxed minutely. “Yeah. Well, probably better. I wasn’t as lost as I could’ve been, but I’d say I still made a right mess of your kitchen.”

“Thank you,” Charlie whispered back. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He was jostled by Nick’s shrug. “Well, even I don’t want to eat defrosted chicken, so yes, I definitely did.”

Charlie picked his head up enough to see Nick smiling at him, and he couldn’t resist covering those lips with his own. 

Something in him unraveled when Nick kissed him back. Something about the way Nick instinctively cupped Charlie’s cheek and parted his lips, and how he managed to set his plate safely aside without disconnecting from Charlie or opening his eyes. Something in the soft, hitched noise he made when Charlie wove a hand into his hair, and how he kissed Charlie a little more thoroughly in response. 

Charlie responded in kind and then some. Even with his skin buzzing and his ears ringing and his stomach still tumbling, he kissed Nick hungrily. It was the only way he could ever describe it. This was sustenance his brain never fought against. 

Then he was thinking sack of ribs and bone against bone and turn-on, and kissing Nick harder, and Nick was pulling back. 

“Charlie, take a breath,” Nick said softly, cupping Charlie’s face in his hands. 

Charlie’s heart fell. “You don’t want to kiss me.” 

Stupid, stupid idiot. Can you honestly blame him?

Nick smiled, and it wasn’t sad or pitying. It was bright and bashful and unbearably fond, that heartstopping half-tilt which was accompanied by a faint blush. “I always want to kiss you,” he said simply; not a reassurance, but an admittance. He brushed back Charlie’s curls and proved his point by kissing Charlie’s forehead, his cheeks, and his lips, brief but lingering, and Charlie’s heart floated back into place. “But right now I want you to be okay more.” 

His smile softened, and his thumb stroked over Charlie’s cheek, and Charlie hiccuped and hid himself in Nick’s chest. Nick adjusted instantly, wrapping his arms around Charlie and petting through his hair. 

“I’d prefer to kiss you when you actually want to kiss me,” Nick added, tentatively. “Like, for real, I mean. And not for…not to…”

“I always want to kiss you,” Charlie answered, fast and forceful, because he suddenly realised. And he could not let Nick think anything like that. “I love kissing you, because I love you.”

Nick’s hand rubbed broadly down his back, big and warm and strong, and Charlie was caught between melting under the touch and curling away. “Yeah. Me too.” He kissed the top of Charlie’s head, and wrapped his arms around him fully again. “So much.”

Charlie’s shoulders hunched slightly. “You’re right, though. I shouldn’t be kissing you to make myself feel better. Even though it always does make me feel better.”

“Magic kisses,” Nick readily agreed, his chin ruffling Charlie’s hair as he nodded. 

“And I really shouldn’t be when you don’t want to.”

Nick’s arms tightened, and Charlie squeezed his eyes shut. “I really always want to, Char. Like, probably more than is actually healthy. I just…don’t like not being sure it’s for the right reasons. The thought of doing anything like that to you…I just—well, sometimes a hug just feels better. Just like this.”

“But it can’t feel good. Hugging me,” Charlie whispered. 

“What?” Nick sounded baffled, but Charlie couldn’t explain. He didn’t think he would have to, and wasn’t prepared. Eventually, Nick accepted the silence and answered for himself. “Charlie, hugging you is essentially my favourite thing to do. I would never stop hugging you for the rest of my life if that was in any way practical. It’s the best feeling in the world.”

“But…me,” Charlie tried. “Don’t I feel…isn’t it like…” He groaned in frustation, and tried starting from scratch. “Your hugs are the best thing ever because they’re big, and warm, and strong, but I’m just…I’m not any of those things. I don’t even know how this is comfortable, for you.”

There was a drawn-out pause, in which Charlie waited for Nick to say, Actually, you have a point, and let him go, but then Nick let out a punched-sounding breath. “Charlie. It’s not because—you think—your body—you think it’s uncomfortable to hug you?”

Charlie’s shoulders hunched a little higher, and Nick gave another of those breaths, and squeezed Charlie even tighter. 

“I can promise you you’re completely wrong. That’s not how it works at all. You’re incredibly cud—cuddleable?—huggable. And we fit perfectly. Do you not think so?”

Of course, Charlie thought, instantly. Dreamily, all the time.

But what he said was, “It makes you sad, though.”

“What?”

Charlie wasn’t going to pretend Nick’s question was because he hadn’t heard the whispered concern. The utter bafflement had returned to Nick’s tone. Charlie was sure it was about to get worse, once he tried to explain. “You always hold me tighter midway through.”

“You think I don’t enjoy hugging you, because every time I do, I always hug you tighter?”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Charlie said. 

“I’m not!” Nick squeezed him again, and he truly didn’t sound like he was joking. “I promise I’m not. I’m trying to understand, but I think it’s you who needs to do that. I mean, just listen to what you’re saying, Char.”

Charlie insisted, “You know what I’m trying to say, though.”

“I think I do. I think your brain is doing that thing where it thinks itself in circles and tells you things that are wrong. Am I right?”

Charlie’s shoulders slumped, and Nick rubbed his back again. 

“I thought so,” Nick murmured. “I know I can’t stop it, but I promise I won’t stop reminding you what’s true.”

“And what’s that?” Charlie prodded, sounding as small as he felt. 

Nick was more prepared. “I love you, and I always want to kiss you because I fancy you more than I’ve ever fancied anybody, and hugging you is so inarguably my favourite thing that I would gladly never stop. And that all I want is for you to be healthy and safe and as happy as you can be, because I care about you and you deserve it, more than anything.”

Charlie’s eyes watered again, and automatically, in some awe, he answered, “So do you. I love you too.”

“Well, that works out then, ‘cause I’m never safer or happier than when I’m with you.”

If possible, Charlie’s awe expanded. “You feel safe with me?” 

“Yeah,” Nick said, as if it was obvious. “Ever since I’ve known you. How do you think I realised I loved you so much? Everything’s so much easier with you than it is with anyone else.”

The tears in Charlie’s eyes spilled over. “Oh.”

Nick hummed, and pressed another kiss to the top of Charlie’s head, and gave Charlie another squeeze. Charlie tried to reconcile this information with what his brain had been telling him an hour prior. He knew that he was safe with Nick—no one, not even Tori, was as comfortable and easy for Charlie to simply be with as Nick. Nick had been there to take care of Charlie ever since they met; and Charlie knew he hadn’t made it easy. It would’ve been impossible for Charlie not to feel safe with him. To feel that Nick was steady and supportive and strong enough to make Charlie safe. 

And Charlie knew that he would do absolutely anything for Nick. Regardless of his own state, he would try to take care of Nick in whatever way possible, any time it was needed. And he knew that he had been a comfort for Nick, more than once, for numerous different reasons. But it was also impossible to think Nick needed him as much as he needed Nick. That, with all his flaws and faults, he could incite those same feelings in response. 

That he wasn’t just dragging Nick, who was too nice for his own good, along on his miserable ride. 

“So you’re not—you don’t…hold back because it makes you sad or freaks you out or—or grosses you out and makes you feel like—like you’ll break me, or something—”

“Char,” Nick interrupted, sounding distraught. “Do I make you feel like that? Because that’s not what I think at all—you’re the strongest person I know, like, that’s why I admire you so much, and I really never thought I was treating you like—”

Charlie finally mustered the will to pull away and look up at Nick. He put his hand on Nick‘s chest, and felt grateful that Nick kept him in his hold. “You don’t. You’re right. It’s not…I guess, this isn’t really about you? But it made me think…I don’t know.”

Nick shook his head. “You don’t have to explain.” I’m used to it, Charlie expected him to add. But—of course—he didn’t. “Of course, I’d like you to, if you want, but I know it usually isn’t something you can really express, and that’s okay. You don’t owe me anything, and especially not reassurance, or anything like that. I just want to know how I can help. If there’s any way I can, that is. And I hope it isn’t—I hope I haven’t done something to trigger it. I honestly…I can’t tell you how sorry I am if I did.”

“No, you didn’t, I promise.” Charlie curled his hand in Nick’s shirt and looked down again. “Honestly, it wasn’t something I was even aware upset me until today—” Charlie’s mouth clicked shut. 

But Nick’s brow had already furrowed into his concerned, listening face, and he was giving an encouraging nod and gently prodding, “What happened today?”

Charlie’s hand curled tighter. “Uhm.”

“Hey.” Nick sat up straighter, jostling Charlie where he was still perched in his lap. He kept one hand on the small of Charlie’s back and raised the other to cup Charlie’s cheek. “What happened? Did someone say something?”

“I…yeah. Well, not really? I…” Charlie blew out a breath. “I sort of, just, overhead Ben?”

Nick’s gaze darkened instantly. Charlie felt him tense, saw his jaw twitch, but Nick’s touch on him remained soft and careful. “What did he say?” 

Charlie’s cheeks burned. “I really don’t want to repeat it,” he mumbled. 

“I’m going to kill him.” 

“Then you’ll be in prison, and what will I do?” Charlie pointed out, feeling a little lighter in the face of Nick’s darkness—retaining their constant balance. 

“You don’t think I’d get away with it?” Nick demanded. 

Charlie released his shirt and reached up to squish his cheeks. “I think you’re much better than that to begin with.”

“And with much better kisses,” Nick said, through squished lips. 

Charlie leaned in to kiss them and agreed, “So much better.”

“Magical?”

“Maybe.”

Nick made an outraged noise and dragged Charlie closer. There was a grin fighting its way onto his face. “That’s better,” he said softly. “Do you feel a little less stressed now?”

Charlie tucked his temple against Nick’s and catalogued himself. The distress was far from gone, but his skin didn’t feel so tight, his muscles weren’t so tense, and his stomach felt still. “Yeah,” he decided. “But, not enough that I can…”

“Yeah,” Nick said, kissing his cheek. “Okay. Is there anything else I can do?”

Charlie breathed, and said, “Hold me tighter?”

[cafedanslanuit]

♡   —   pairing: kazutora x reader

♡   —   summary: after a long day at work, you want nothing but to spend a calm night with your boyfriend. however, you have no idea this is the night were all his demons finally get the best of him.

♡   —   tags/warnings: female reader, angst, breakups, hurt feelings everywhere, mention on mental illnesses and nightmares, based on ben platt’s song ‘carefully’, mention of tora’s job in one of the future timelines.

♡   —   a/n: i enjoyed writing kazutora so. damn. much. also, i’m quite proud of this one and the small details i added~ thank you @ofoceansandtombstones​​ for being my lovely beta <3

♡   —  masterlist

And all this time you've had a gentle way of holding me

So could you please release me that way too?

— “carefully” by Ben Platt

“It’s open, come in!”

The first thing Kazutora sees when he opens the door of your apartment is you, kneeling on the kitchen floor and picking up pieces of a broken baking dish. Red sauce has splattered everywhere and his mind betrays him for a second, imagining an accident far worse than what has truly happened. He blinks twice and starts to notice the small details that finally slow down the fast beating of his heart. There are pieces of chicken breasts next to the open oven door and what he thinks are sliced carrots next to your right knee.

You hiss when you pick up a piece of the shattered glass, the sharp end pinching your finger. Kazutora comes back to his senses, widening his eyes as he realizes he’s just been standing there.

“Hey, let me. You’ll cut yourself,” he warns, walking up to you. Grabbing both your hands, he eases you into your feet and then guides you to the living room. “I’ll take care of it,” he promises as he goes back to the kitchen and starts cleaning up the mess.

You let yourself fall on the sofa with a loud thud and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I just had the most awful day,” you whine, taking off your apron and leaving it on the arm of the sofa.  “Work was hell, I got scolded by something that I didn’t do— like always, only this time my boss was all like: ‘You gotta be more careful, we wouldn’t want to lose such a valuable employee’. Like he was going to fire me over someone else’s mistake?!”

Your voice is getting louder by the minute and you take advantage of the fact Kazutora is in another room to keep the volume. You have been waiting the entire day to see him and vent about what a trainwreck you day had been. Just as always, he listens intently, the only noise coming from the kitchen being a soft scraping sound as he picks up everything and throws it to the trash. 

“Then, I went to the store and of course they had run out of basil. Tell me, how does a store that big run out of basil?” you ask. There’s no answer from the kitchen so you continue. “I mean, yeah, I could have gone to another store but my feet were killing me. I’m just not meant to work in heels the entire day,” you sigh tiredly, swinging your feet.

You reposition yourself, now sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Putting your right hand on your left shoulder, you stretch your neck, feeling your sore muscles releasing a bit of tension with a small ‘pop’.

“I ended up preparing something entirely different than I had planned for dinner. I tried to let it go but just as I was going to put it in the oven, it slipped my hands and—”

“I think we should break up.”

Words die in your lips the moment you listen to your boyfriend speak. The silence becomes loud and abrasive as you struggle to understand what was happening. Why was Kazutora breaking up with you with such a small voice? What had triggered him to come to that conclusion? Why had he decided to bring it up now? You turn your head to the kitchen door and watch him slowly make his way towards you, doubtful steps as he takes a seat on the other side of the sofa, avoiding your eyes at all costs.

“What?” you ask, your voice hoarse. His lips form a tight line and you see him swallowing nervously.

“I’m not doing okay— haven’t been for a while. I— it’s been two years since I left prison and I still haven’t— I don’t— I don’t know what I’m doing,” he explains, looking down at his hands.

You nod slowly, trying to comprehend where he’s coming from. Turning your body towards him, you take a deep breath before speaking.

“It’s okay not to know,” you assure him in a soft voice. “Just… take it slow. One day at a time and then I’m sure you’ll—”

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Kazutora confesses and you notice his voice wavering a little. “I— I keep having nightmares about— about that day and— and also about the motorcycle shop. Those two mix up and…” he takes one of his hands to the side of his head, his fingers grazing his temple. “And I’m hitting Baji in the head. And there’s so much blood— so, so much blood and—”

Leaning forward, you take his hands. They’re shaking and extremely cold and you rub your thumb over his knuckles, trying your best to soothe him.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now, Tora, you’re—”

Kazutora pulls his hands away hastily, leaving a tingling sensation on your palms.

“I can’t!” he says as he shakes his head. You spend a moment looking at your empty hands, never before having felt your boyfriend’s rejection. “I feel like I’m drowning and— You know what? I think relationships just aren’t for me,” he shrugs, his hands moving in exaggerated gestures. “That’s why I never cared for dating, never got myself involved in that kind of shit, not until—”

He finally looks at you and, fuck, you wish he didn’t. You’re not sure if you have the strength to deal with such hurtful discourse. You lick your lips and take yet another deep breath, deciding to ignore his hurtful remark.

“I’m… so sorry you’re feeling this way,” you say, slowing down your words, trying your best not to show how hurt you were. This isn’t him, you tell yourself. So no need for that tightness in your throat. “But you have to understand it’s not because of me. It’s because of everything that you’ve gone through and how hard it’s to deal with them. I don’t blame you, it is hard. But this… us,” you gesture to the both of you. “This is a good thing. Despite all the pain and hurt we’ve both been through, we—”

“Please, stop,” he says, raising his hand and pressing his eyelids together. “I can’t be with you anymore. That’s it, that’s all—”

“So you don’t love me anymore?” you counter. You scoff in disbelief, shaking your head. Kazutora’s eyes shoot open and you notice his pupils shaking in fear, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I love you,” he breathes out, and for a moment you see the boy you fell in love with in his amber eyes that are quickly filling with tears. “I do love you but it’s killing me. I feel like I’m dying,” he chokes out. He looks away from you once more and starts tugging at his fingers. “I’m rotting inside and I don’t know what to do to make it better. I just want it to stop. I want it to stop and— I don’t want you around when I’m like this. I want to figure out what the hell is happening and—”

“But if you love me and I love you then why—”

“I’m not happy with you!”

Kazutora widens his eyes, scared by his loud outburst. He parts his lips, silently muttering nonsense as he tries to come up with words that can make it better. You lower your head and he wants to punch himself over it. He doesn’t want to make you cry, not after everything you’ve done for him. Is he really going to be the person that hurt the one that made a home for him in her embrace? Is he going to hurt the only person that was brave enough to pick up the pieces of his shattered soul?

“I’m…” he babbles, in a soft voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

You snort. “No, you really did mean it, Tora.”

He can sense the hurt and sadness in your voice, even if now you’re the one that won’t look at him. He watches helplessly as you stand up and walk towards the living room window in complete silence. The apron you took off is still on the couch and the vast memories of all the times he embraced you while you were wearing it quickly fill his mind.

He wishes there was a way he could keep you. But no matter how much he wants to, he knows there really is no other way. He’s thought about this countless times. He has gone to work without getting proper sleep, stared at his blank tv screen for hours on end, trying to come up with a plan where he could keep you. Was staying with the person he loved the most too much to ask?

No matter in how many shades of light or with how much care he handled the memory of you, the only way he could spare you the greatest amount of pain was to leave you— even if he knew he’d end up shattering your heart as well.

Kazutora notices the way your fingers tightly close around the edge of the window, your knuckles turning white. He had come to terms that he’d lose you today, yet he never expected for it to be this way. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. If hating him would mend your wounds faster, then he’d take it. Anything that would make the heartache he was causing you a little bit lighter. He knew you were the last person on Earth that deserved to go to bed carrying that much pain in her soul.

Looking out the window, you focus on a small girl walking her dog on the street. It’s a brown labrador and by the size of it, it’s barely a puppy. Rather than walk, it jumps on its four legs, his little head looking back at the girl every chance he has as he happily wags his tail. The pet shop Kazutora and Chifuyu work at immediately comes to mind. Would it be like this from now on? Small things eliciting memories of your days together without your consent and leaving a sour taste in your mouth?

You will need to find a new commute, you think, as you had been stopping by the pet shop on your way home for the past year. Is there another bus that you could take? As you try to remember the lines and their respective routes, you’re engulfed by the memory of the first time Kazutora dozed off with his head resting on your shoulder as you rode the bus together. You close your eyes and you can clearly see his peaceful expression and slightly parted lips as he slept, his fingers tightly intertwined with yours. His breathing is slow and his hands are cold and you wish you could go back, even for a minute and place a kiss on top of his head, since you wouldn’t be able to do so from now on.

Where exactly had you failed? You had just been complaining about your day when he dropped the bomb. Did you complain too much? Did you talk too much? Or was it you the one that was too much? You tried your best and supported him as much as you could but as it turns out, it hadn’t been enough. Good intentions were nothing but useless as you were now saying goodbye to the man you had loved the most.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt Kazutora’s cold knuckles against your cheek, wiping your tears. You gasp, startled by his touch and take a couple steps back until your back hits the wall. It takes a few seconds for him to bring his hand now, unsure on what to do next.

He looks so scared and small— it fills your heart with frustration. Your whole body is screaming to take a step forward and comfort him, cradle him in your arms like so many times before, assure him he’s safe with you and that he doesn’t have to worry anymore. That, if you can still go home to each other at the end of a bad day, you can take anything life throws at you.

But that’s the thing. You’re not each other’s home anymore. You don’t get to bury your face in his neck and hum happily when his perfume reaches your nose. You don’t get to have him take a nap on your lap as you watch a series or feel his lips ghost against yours seconds before colliding in a kiss.

You hate it. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking down at his feet. “Please, don’t cry.”

“You know what, Kazutora?” you say, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You taste venom in your words, yet that doesn’t stop you. “If you’re not happy with me, then what are you doing here?”

He flinches at your words. Biting his inner cheek, he nods, still incapable of holding your gaze.

“Yeah, okay,” he mutters. “I’ll go. I really am sorry.”

Kazutora turns on his heel, walking towards the door. Maybe it’s the way you know he’s not coming back this time that makes your desperation afloat. You don’t want him to go and you also know you can’t make him stay. And even if somehow you could find a way to keep him by your side, it would be worthless.

He’s just not happy with you.

“Are you happy somewhere else, though?” you ask, your words leaving your mouth before your head has time to process them. He stumbles on his feet and stops. “Because if you just can’t manage to be happy, then it’s not on me.”

Kazutora doesn’t have to turn for you to know he’s second guessing himself. The next seconds feel like years as he just stands there, mid-way to the front door, thoughts so messy and loud you can almost hear them.

“That doesn’t matter,” he finally says with his back to you. He closes his fists and you see his shoulders rising and falling as he takes a deep breath. “This way you don’t have to deal with... with the mess I am and—”

“Oh, please, I knew what I was getting into when I started dating an ex-convict.”

The weight of your words fall onto you the moment they leave your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, muttering a curse. It takes no time for you to walk towards Kazutora, standing between him and the door.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tora, I didn’t— you know I didn’t mean it that way. Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you whimper, tears flowing free down your cheeks. Your wave your shaky hands, desperate to make your point across. “I just wanted to say I knew things would be difficult but I loved you— I love you and I—”

Kazutora shakes his head, a gentle yet sad smile on his face as he takes your hands in his. He holds them in front of his chest, squeezing them gently as they don’t stop trembling.

“Stop, it’s okay,” he assures you. “That’s what I am.”

“It’s not,” you protest. “I mean— yeah, but you’re more than that. You’re so much more than that. You’re caring, you’re noble— you’re so tender with the animals at your shop. You’re so sweet with me, always checking if I’ve eaten and offering to help me out if I have chores I need to do. You always come pick me up if I’m working late. You— you’re so fucking special to me.”

Kazutora’s lips form a tight line. “I wish I could see that,” he whispers.

“Then just— let me try. Let me try until you can look at yourself the way I do,” you almost beg. You let go of the hold he has on your hands to gently cradle his face. “I’ll do anything, but... don’t patronize me. I’m not a little girl. Whatever life throws at me, I’ve always been able to handle it. No— we’ll handle it. Together. Like it’s always been, you and me, I just— please, I don’t want you to go,” you cry. “We were going to be happy together, you were going to live with me and I’d give you half my drawers and half my closet and half… half everything. Please, don’t go. Don’t go, Tora.”

The sadness in his amber eyes only confirms what you’ve been fearing this whole time. You sob, your thumbs softly stroking his cheeks as you feel the world crumbling around you. This time, he doesn’t stop you, letting you cry as you hold his face, coming to terms with the fact he’s really leaving after all.

Your hands move to his hair, gently threading your fingers across his long, dark locks. Tracing the outline of his face, you push one of the dyed streaks away, only for it to fall back right where it was before. You can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips. He’s so pretty, you think, as the pads of your fingers gently caress his face. Your thumb grazes the space between his bottom lip and his chin and you dream of a world when he’s not saying goodbye, but rather falling asleep under your touch on your shared bed. You never knew loving someone as much as you loved him was possible-- yet the way your heart was crumbling in pieces was evidence of how much your soul was aching by being separated from the person it belonged to.

Sniffling, you rub your cheek against your shoulder to wipe your tears. You swallow before raising another question.

“Is this a… temporary thing? Or for good?” Your voice comes out in a whisper as you place down your hands on his shoulders.

“I don’t know,” he answers. He wants nothing more than to put his arms around your body like so many times before, but he’s aware that it will only make things more difficult. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting in vain. You should move on.”

Kazutora realizes how much he hates the idea as it leaves his lips. The idea of you starting over with someone else rots in his tongue. He doesn’t want you to hold anyone’s face the way you were just holding his. He wants to keep you all to himself, to go to endless visits to the grocery shop, to watch you fall asleep during movie night and then pretend you didn’t, to massage your hands as you tell him about his day.

But you don’t deserve the guck that’s forming inside his mind. He knows it’s only a matter of time before it comes out pouring and reaches you. And he’ll be damned if he lets himself ruin the one good thing he’s had in his life for many years. He promised to himself he wouldn’t let his ill state of mind touch his loved ones. Never again.

He watches you nod and feels his heart shattering, even if everything is going just the way he intended. You rub his shoulders and look into his eyes, a sad smile on the pretty lips he would never get to kiss again.

“Okay,” you sigh. “We’ll end this but… when you leave, never doubt how loved you were. No— how loved you are. I don’t know what is coming for either of us but… I do know a part of my heart will always belong to you, no matter who I hold hands with. I will always love you, Tora.”

Your words are enough to finally break him. Kazutora clutches your body tightly against him as he loudly sobs against your shoulder. You hold him, tears flowing free once again as you try and soothe the man you love, leaving small kisses on the side of his head and whispering soft reassurances that it’s okay. It’s not, you tell yourself. It’s never going to be okay. But it has to be.

Carefully, you move him back to the sofa, helping him sit down while he refuses to let go of his hold on your body. You lean on the back pillows, both your arms cradling him while he whimpers like a small child. Kazutora clutches the fabric of your sweater with desperation, wishing there was a way he could stay with you.

Why does he have to give up the person that had put a smile back on his face? He can’t quite remember a time when his stomach had hurt out of laughter before he ever met you. Or when he’d experienced such peace as the night he stayed at your apartment and got to see your sleeping face first thing in the morning. He’s never loved anyone as much as he loves you and, for all he knows, he may never love like this again. 

But he could never risk tainting you. He would never be able to forgive himself.

Kazutora softly pulls away from your embrace. His eyes are blotchy and red and you’re sure yours look the same or even worse. His nose is red, like it always does when he cries. It’s endearing, you think. Everything about him, from his hair, to his eyes, his hands— you’ve come to love every part of Kazutora. And that’s exactly why it’s so hard to let him go.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says in a whisper, resting the side of his head on the back pillows of the sofa.

“Like what?” you ask, gently pushing his hair away from his face and behind his ear.

“Like I matter to you. Like I’m making a huge mistake.”

You take a deep breath. Imitating him, you rest your head on the back pillows as well, so you’re both facing each other.

“I don’t— I don’t fully understand what you’re going through,” you admit, your eyes locked on his. “But if you need to… get away, then you should. You’ve been nothing but loving to me. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy, whether it’s with me or not. You deserve to fully experience all the beautiful things life has to offer.”

Silent tears fall from both your cheeks and his.

“I should be thankful I got to love you for this whole year. Because even if it ends this way… God, I loved you so much,” you sniffle, letting out a small laugh. “And I felt so loved. Isn’t that magical in itself? That we got to love each other at the same time?” you wonder with a sad smile.

Kazutora parts his lips, yet the doorbell interrupts him before he can even speak. You look at the front door, your eyebrows furrowing for a moment before you realize who’s probably there.

“Food’s here,” you say, wiping the tears from your face.

“Food?” Kazutora asks, confused.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Didn’t I tell you? The baking dish broke so I called that restaurant, the one with the burgers we like.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t really listening back then,” he admits with a pang of guilt. He sits up on the couch and turns his head at you. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

You sit up as well. “I ordered for the two of us. C’mon, stay for dinner. Let’s… remember us this way, okay? Without so many tears and sadness,” you offer, tilting your head towards him. “I even ordered your favourite one.”

Kazutora rubs his face with his sleeve, erasing the trail of the tears he just shed. Looking at you, he nods, drawing a small smile on his lips.

“Okay. I’ll get it.”

He only walks a few steps towards the door before he feels you tugging at the back of his shirt. Turning around, he notices you’re standing right behind him. Your eyes look up to him, biting your bottom lip and not even a ghost of the smile you previously offered him.

“Before that, uh— I want you to know I… I mean it,” you firmly say, taking in all his facial features, loving how they soften every time he looks at you. “I’ll always love you. No matter how many years go by or if I ever stop being in love with you— I’ll still love you.”

“I’ll always love you too,” he replies, taking your hand and squeezing it softly. “I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

You finally let out a soft chuckle and squeeze his hand back. The doorbell rings again and you walk around Kazutora to get to it. This time, he’s the one that stops you, not letting go of the hold of your hand. Looking back at him, you notice the soft pout in his lips and how they softly tremble, looming more tears.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, and you know you’re saying it to yourself as well. “Who knows, we might get together again someday. Have our own Casablanca moment. We’ll always have the pet shop,” you joke, trying to fight back to tears that threaten to fill your eyes as well.

It’s Kazutora’s turn to chuckle, only this time he does it along with you. You let go of his hand only to hold his face tenderly, a soft smile as you look at the man you love. Standing on your tiptoes, you press your lips against the beauty mark under his right eye. You feel his hands setting on the small of your back and watch his smile widen when you fall back on your heels.

Locking your fingers with him once more, you open the door.