#and i'm getting more ideas for how to flesh it out into something worth writing AND reading

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

The angst was so real (in the best way)! 😭

She does, she's just afraid to admit it to herself and afraid to have those feelings for someone who doesn't love her back. And it really makes you want to hit her over the head with a frying pan LOL. And thank you! That's how I intended it to be, which is even more heartbreaking 😭

It does make sense, poor thing. 😭 She's so unwilling to believe he could love her the way she wants/needs, while he's hesitating to allow himself to do it. And I'm thinking he's fighting off some self-doubt/self-worth issues as well?

I love this journey of self-discovery for her, both with her brother and past, and with her expanding powers. It's pique Hero's Journey stuff! 💚

Plus, I really think that the creature is adorable, well, besides the murder tendencies. (I guess we could also say that about Ben LMAO)

LMAO factssss. Who could say no to that adorably confused grandpa face?

The reader is killing me tbh. I know I've said this before, but writing slow burn is literally almost as bad as reading it. Don't get me wrong I LOVE slow burn, but oh my stars sometimes it's so frustrating for them to both be in so much denial lol. I shouldn't complain because I did this to myself and now it really is "oh look the consequences of my own actions" lol.

LOLL the slow burn is a killer for both of us! "The consequences of our own actions" is so deeply relatable for the writing process. 🤣🤣

Thank you so much!💗 For me there really is something wonderful about reading/seeing creative chaos in a home, and also looking at creative spaces that people have. I think that there is warmth and comfort in a home that looks lived in. It's why I don't love minimalism, because it looks cold if that makes sense lol.

Aw you're welcome! I totally agree. I love seeing that as well -- it's like getting a window into a person's mind through their living space. I don't like minimalism for that reason either!

Again, I was so on the fence about Soothsayer, but what you said about her being in "an even better position to give her advice when it comes to that man" is exactly why I decided to include her.

Honestly it was a great twist! It makes her friendship with Ben more fleshed out and her own past, and how it serves to help the reader now. Especially now that it seems she's going to help get the reader and Ben together! 😂

I know 😭 She is going to realize it soon and I am so excited about that reveal. Oh plus I do think that she does know deep down that she does love him and care about him, but she's afraid to admit it because she doesn't want to fall for someone who she believes doesn't value relationships like she does.

God I can't wait!! lol And I totally get that. She really does seem to realize how deep her feelings run for him, but she's afraid, for the reasons you said. 🥲🥲

Mayyyybbbbeeeee...😉 Honestly, as much as I love reading fics where the reader isn't a supe, there's always a little part of me that can't help but see the reader growing old and Ben staying the same, and it always breaks my heart. There really is something so intimate and romantic about being able to truly spend your life with someone else, not just your life and then they go on for another few centuries.

Ooooh yesssss. 😏 And totally agree with you there! It's too bittersweet for me when you know one of them is going to die someday and the other keeps living on, carrying the weight of their memory. It's why I had to come up with that twist in BMD loll. Thank you for noting on that! It took some head scratching and BS science (and some inspo from my love of Smallville), but I think the reasoning was convincing enough on how the reader in BMD "caught up" with his longevity of life. 😂 I also love the idea of the plants giving her healing abilities and prolonging her life through that cell regeneration. 💚💚

It's my favorite line too! That and the bundt cake 😂. But you're right, he's afraid of everything that he's feeling and after Countess, he's not sure if he should fall for someone again.

Can't forget the bundt cake!!

Oh yeah, Countess sure fucked him up. 😬 That, along with the torture and years of being treated like a god in all other respects. 🫠

Oh Ben, he'll get there. He just needs some actual love in his life, and someone stubborn enough to not only put up with his shit, but like you said, "take a chance" on him. 😉

It's always my pleasure to read your stories, hun! Giving the feedback is the least I can do. 💕

Chapter 14: Don't Be A Bundt Cake

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

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

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

Word Count: 13.1K

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

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

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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

Reader POV

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

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

But you didn't notice any of it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you desperately needed the comfort of her embrace.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But what would I say?

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

He's really not the best at that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damn it Darren.

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

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

Darren.

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

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

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

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

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

"Honey?" Your grandmother says in a soothing voice

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

"Yeah?" Your voice shakes slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You saw it?" You repeat, confused.

What's going on?

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

"What?"

Is she saying what I think she's saying?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You pretended to be a fortune teller?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She left without telling him goodbye?

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

“But what about Nicaragua?"

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

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

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

You could feel your heart breaking for her.

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

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

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

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

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

“When?”

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

“Was he mad?”

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

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

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

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

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

“And when would that be?”

Your grandmother shrugs. “Maybe on my deathbed.”

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

 You snort. “And no one knew?”

“Your dad figured it out.”

“How? When?”

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

“I was never injected?”

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

“Darren thought I was.”

“I know.”

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“You heard everything Darren said?"

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think you ever will.”

"Really?"

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

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

“Was it really that bad?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve seen-“ Your eyes widen.

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

“That’s so weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I killed Darren, I killed Elijah-"

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

"But-"

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head.

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

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

"Why not?"

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

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

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

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

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

"You don't?"

"Gran!"

"What? He's attractive."

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

"He has." She interrupts.

"What?"

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

"What does that have to do with anything?"

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

"Why does that matter?"

"Because he loved her."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait-"

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

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

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

"Okay."

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

Soldier Boy POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he wasn't sure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Di?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"About what?"

"My granddaughter."

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

"Yes." Her voice softens for a moment.

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

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

The thought that home wasn't with him.

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

"No, not good."

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

"No."

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

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

Oh. Ben relaxed a little bit.

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

"Yes you do!" Diana presses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She certainly hasn't changed.

“I am not avoiding-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what’s that?”

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

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

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

"But-"

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

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

Wait what?

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

He hesitates.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"She doesn't."

"Why don't you believe me?"

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

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

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

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

Ben chuckles. "I missed you too sweetheart."

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

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

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

“I-“

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

“I’m not-“

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

“I-“

“Stop making excuses!”

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

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

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

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

The line goes dead.

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

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

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

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

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

But why do I feel like-

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

"Di I-"

But it's not Diana.

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

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

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

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

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

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[princesssarcastia]

stuck in a rut where my ability to plan a story is far outstripping my ability to write a story. grr and argh and fuck, goddammit.

[readychilledwine]

Odd request, but how do you think the acotar men would react to brushing their females cervix during sex ( you don’t have to write it if you don’t feel comfortable doing so) 💕

This kink isn't my cup of tea, but I know a lot of you like the idea of it so, let's gooooooo

The First Time He Brushed Your Cervix Head Canons

Warning - graphic link to make sure you understand some positioning

Rhysand

Rhysand's instinct as a high lord is to breed, so the first time you jump from him hitting that sensitive area, he can't help but to try over and over again

It made him practically feral, feeling so close to your womb he could practically release directly into it

He'd have your knees practically to your chest, hands gripping your ass as he plowed into you.

It turns into his goal every time you two fuck now. Even if succeeding in that goal means you won't walk for a few days.

"You like that, don't you? Like feeling me so deep inside of you. Your cunt sure swallows me like she does."

Cassian

With Cassian, it was a given, but it still made you whine for him.

He makes you look and feel even tinier than you are, and with how hung he is, it becomes a regular thing.

He always checks when it happens to make sure you're okay, but fuck he wishes he could just fuck straight through it.

Cassian didn't know he had a breeding Kink until it happened.

He's tried having you ride so you could prevent it, but his face when you sink all the way down is worth the little bit of shock.

"That's it, baby, relax. You feel so good wrapped around me, squeezing my cock so tight. Fuck, baby. Going to cum so deep inside of you."

Azriel

Azriel did it on purpose.

He knows you like pain mixed in with your pleasure, and he's more than happy to provide.

He loves watching you squrim while he's giving you deep, hard thrusts from behind

He has a filthy mouth to match the action to, mocking you as you cry out his name but beg for it over and over again.

He's a sadistic lover, so once you two discovered that was okay as long as it was discussed prior, he was sold.

"Fuck, I'm going to ruin this pussy and you'll just let me, won't you?" As he grabs your chin and forced you to nod. "That's right, you feel me, baby? Feel me stretching you out? Good girl. Good fucking girl."

Lucien

He stopped. He immediately stopped. He couldn't tell if your gasp was a happy one or one of pain.

It was one of pain, so he pulled out and immediately laid you on your back.

He buried his head between your legs for the night after that. Bring you to completion over and over until you were begging for him to be inside of you.

He was careful this time, giving you the deep thrusts you wanted but being so gentle as he bottomed out at a different angle.

"Making me feel like a God, bunny. This tight little cunt was made for me, wasn't she?"

Eris

I have a head canon that Eris is a gentle love maker, despite how I tend to write him

Eris, much like Lucien, stopped when it happened.

He only cared about you being okay. He's read enough books to know the nerves there are beyond sensitive.

When you were fine, something ignited in him. It became one of his favorite things, but he didn't plan or seek it to happen. When it does happen, though, the way he talks you through it is enough to push you over the edge.

"My pretty little mate. This cunt is perfect. Always so tight and wet for me. Is she all mine?"

Tamlin

Tamlin's reaction is very similar to Rhysand's.

The urge for a High Lord to breed breed breed turns him into a growling mess.

Claws will dig into the sensitive flesh of your hips when it happens, but you absolutely love it

Sex with Tamlin could never get boring. Shape shifter, remember?

You've gotten to experience him shifting his cock to different sizes and forms just to kiss your cervix once you two decided you liked it.

In short, if the Cauldron had not made you Tamlin's mate, you'd pick him for his cock alone, regardless.

(Listen. Liz could write a lot of monster fucking about Tamlin.)

[stuffeddeer]

Hello! Are requests open?

If not, ignore this ask.

I wanted to ask you a beast dazai x neglected reader. Like, a reader who has been ignored and neglected from her entire family since she grow up. She no longer gets goodbyes, she has to cook for herself, her parents don't even acknowledge her when she's sick.

She's been recently accepted as a member of the port, more specifically a secretary of the one and only Dazai Osamu in flesh and bones. Just her luck, this so "scary demon prodigy" is also the sweetest most loyal and pretty boyfriend of her.

When Dazai finds out how she gets (or rather not get) treated at home, he gets genuinely pissed off!! And wanting her to just be good, he asks her if she want to spend sometime in his penthouse, far from that family, somewhere where all the attention she needs is on her, at least there Dazai can actually show her how much she's worth all the love in the world! Come on, she gave him a reason to live, how could he even accept she is living a shitty life in such an house?

Also, PLEASE, PLEASE. An au where beast dazai doesn't kill himself. Also, I love the concept that in every universe the reader and him are soulmates. Like, it's just so perfect I'm so in love with that idea!!

ALSO AGAIN OPS, i wanted to say that I LOVE LOVE your dazai SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO MUCH!!!! I've recently stumbled into your blog and I MUST SAY THAT THIS IS JUST.. PERFECT???? I love YOU, deer, for all your wonderful ideas, I love THE ASKS, because damn all your asks give just as wonderful ideas as the one you write out, and I love YOUR WORKS especially the y!dazai like yes???? Just yes????

(My favorite character is Chuuya, but my soft spot for Beast dazai is actually insane, you don't even imagine how much I love that man. Also, because my heart just hurt and break each time people talk about Dazai being a cheater, THANK YOU??? THE ASK, AND YOUR REPLY, THANK YOU SO MUCH??? COULDN'T LIVE WITH THE FEELING DAZAI THAT CHEATS ANYMORE! THANK YOU THANK YOU)

Anyways.

Woah, this got long, I swear I'm not crazy..

Can I be ⏳️ anon if no one else is??

HIII ⏳️ ANON!!! im so glad you enjoy my works and my dazai!!! (as opposed to . asagiris dazai lmaooo)

im sorry this is so late 😭 but im back on the writing grind 😼

The lights were on in your boyfriend’s penthouse, a bolt of worry shooting down your spine at the sight. With his spare key haphazardly shoved into your pocket and door left wide open, you tiptoe into what should've been his apartment, trying to find out if someone broke in.

Dazai had asked you to stop by and drop off something at his place — not exactly standard work for a secretary but you were happy to assist your boyfriend. In your arms now were the groceries a different lackey had picked up and left on your desk. Normally Dazai would take them back himself, he said, but he would need to stay at work late and finish up some things. You were to take his place and make sure the refrigerated goods didn’t go bad. That’s what he said to you, anyway, which you found a bit confounding; Couldn't he have a lackey bring it up in your stead? Sure, Dazai liked to bring his own food to his home to alleviate the threat of poison, but it wouldn't be the first time he let it happen anyway.

While you had been a bit skeptical, pushing the topic seemed unnecessary since you were more than willing to do it either way. Any time spent far from your home and your family was time you cherished, so you didn’t think twice before accepting his stupid and unusual request and taking his spare penthouse key.

But now, you were regretting it. Anyone capable of breaking into the Port Mafia boss’s penthouse was not someone to be underestimated: you were in serious trouble. Cautiously, you hold the paper bags tightly to keep the food from moving around noisily before peeking into the kitchen: the room with the lights on. What could they be doing here..?

Plating dinner, apparently.

“Love! You’ve finally arrived - good. Take a seat!”

Your boyfriend was donned in a frilly pink apron you’re sure he bought just for this occasion, since you've never seen him in it before. With an amused chuckle, you stepped back. "Let me close the door then I'll join you."

After putting away all of the groceries he'd asked you to bring home for him - and realizing he already had all of these items in his cupboards and refrigerator already - you tug on the ribbon keeping the apron fixed against his neck.

The top half falls down from his chest, curling over the second tie around his hips and dangling loosely. "Undressing me already?" Dazai hums playfully.

"You're obnoxious." Next comes the tie around his waist, the bunched up apron fabric quickly pulled against your chest. You gently push Dazai to the side as you unfold it. "C'mon, I'll take over now."

Dazai huffs childishly, pouting dramatically for the full effect. "Hey!" He reaches out, snagging the apron from you and quickly tying it back on himself. Hands securely gripping your waist, Dazai lifts you from the ground and carries you - feet hovering just over the wooden floor - to the dining room, where an empty basket sits between variously sized candles on a decorated table.

On either side of the table are empty plates and fancy napkins, ones you hadn't known Dazai even owned, with cutlery resting on top. Two glasses sit on the table, one scotch and one wine glass, both filled with their respective drinks. Dazai sets you down next to the table, feet finally touching the floor once again while his arms snake out from your waist, making sure to pat your tummy once as his hand slides around it.

"Hope you're hungry - I made your favorite. It's all plated and ready to go, I just... burnt the bread you like. That garlicky kind from that restaurant we went to a few weeks ago? I gently requested the chef to give me the recipe and she happily handed it over! Of course, it must've been my handsome good looks that finally made her acquiesce rather than the gun in my coat pocket— "

Your wonderful boyfriend continues to prattle on and yet you barely register any of it, just thinking about how he knew you liked that bread and wanted to go to extreme lengths to recreate it for you. A bit timidly, you hold his hands in yours, giving them a mild squeeze. "I can't believe you went to the trouble."

The sound of your whisper makes Dazai grin, puffing out his chest in pride. "Of course! I'd do anything for my love," he says, voice leaning more on the side of egotistical than genuine, a light joke hoping to make you laugh. Like always, he succeeds.

The kiss you press to his cheek makes his smile turn more sincere, a hand moving to flatten the frilly pink fabric around his waist. "Guess you read my apron."

You look down, noticing the tacky KISS THE CHEF embroidered onto the front. A playful scoff passes your lips, rolling your eyes while trying to bite back a smile. "You're annoying. How long have you had this?"

"Umm~," he hums for a moment. "7 hours? And I thought you said I was obnoxious." A high pitched ding! sounds from the kitchen, Dazai quickly rushing back and leaving you alone. You gaze back at the dinner table he set up, smiling excitedly at the thought of him putting all this together just for you.

Spending time with Dazai always lifts a weight off of your shoulders, laughing at his dumb jokes and complaining about your day - it’s a wonderful feeling the both of you lacked prior. Him from his upbringing in the mafia, following in Mori’s footsteps and cursed to take his position, and you - not allowed to rely on anyone except yourself from the moment you could walk. Both you and Dazai were accustomed to loneliness and isolation, knowing the only people you could trust were yourselves.

Coming together after forced alienation all your life made you bit hesitant to depend on him, especially at first. Asking for attention and affection is much scarier than just wanting it. However, Dazai had seemed to warm up to the idea relatively quickly, as though he already knew you could be trusted and had already been used to your presence.

It was a bit jarring, knowing the scary mafia boss was so enamored with you he'd practically jump onto you if you got too close. All things considered, he should've been as cautious as you were, but Dazai so easily slid into his role as your partner. Sometimes you feel bad knowing that you haven't been as forthcoming as he has.

"Stay with me tonight."

The sudden turn in conversation makes you freeze, hand pausing with your glass of wine lingering just in front of your lips. Conversation had been flowing easily just moments prior — chatting about each other's day and various similar small talk, before turning to the dinner at hand. You'd thanked Dazai for the meal before asking him why he decided to do this for you so randomly. Instead of answering, he'd simply replied with the above: stay with me tonight.

"Stay here? Overnight? It's a bit last minute..."

Dazai smiles as you set your wine glass down, staring at him as though expecting an elaboration. Which, of course, he's willing to supply. "And tomorrow night, if you'd like. The one after and every night after that."

Is he asking me to move in? you think, breath hitching. It's all so sudden; you'd never even discussed this possibility with him. Sure, you've spent a night or two over here and there - but very sporadically. It wasn't something often and definitely not frequent enough to lead into moving in so soon.

"Stop overthinking," he cuts into your thoughts. "Take what I'm saying at face value." Gently, Dazai's hand reaches out to grab yours, arm resting on the table as his thumb traces your knuckles. "Stay with me tonight. And we can reassess tomorrow."

Of course he knows how to calm you down, causing you to breathe as you focus on his thumb's ministrations on your hand. Well, it would be nice, knowing the options are to stay with your loving boyfriend or go home to your neglectful family. They wouldn't even notice you're gone, much less care where you ended up, but...

"I have pajamas and clothes for you to use, spare toothbrush and the like." Dazai had answered your question before you even asked, something that always made you smile. No one had ever taken the time to know you, much less well enough to read your mind like that. "If they're not to your liking, I'll have a subordinate get you something else."

You shake your head, wanting nothing more than to spend a night away from your home once again. Or away from your house, rather - since Dazai has quickly proven himself to be your home. "I bet they're perfect. And if not, I— " you hesitate, not wanting to impose. The last thing you wanted was to be—

"You aren't a burden. If not, we can just get something else," Dazai cuts off your train of thought. "I want to, okay? I want to take care of you. I want you to know what it's like to be looked after and taken care of."

"I was going to say if not, maybe I can move some of my clothes here... for the times I stay over." Anxiously, you pick up your fork to poke and prod at your meal, the lovely dinner Dazai had crafted just for you consisting of only your favorite foods.

Dazai nods quickly, eyes glimmering at the idea. He knows this is your metaphorical olive branch, letting him know that you're working up to one day moving in with him. All he wants and all he's ever wanted for as long as he's known you, spanning across multiple lives, is to keep you safe and happy.

The topic changes as dinner continues, and before you know it you're donned in the most expensive pajamas curled up against Dazai fast asleep. Watching you snore beside him, all he can think about is making sure you're surrounded solely by people who cherish you.

[alicerosejensen]

OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH

I JUST HAD A CUTE LITTLE SCENARIO IDEA. It is about vendetta! leon and young(20’s) reader series! What about reader sitting on the bathrooms counter/vanity while helping Leon shave? His hands are resting on readers tighs or around her waist as he watches her focused eyes. I THINK THAT WOULD BE ADORABLE PLS.

And i don’t think this counts as an ask, but if you’ll want to do something with this im not complainig hahah 👁👁

Warning: Fluff, mention of injuries, age difference (implied but not mentioned), Leon!Vendetta, Leon gets taken care of (this man needs a little love and devotion); talking about nothing.

I'm sorry, I'm too lazy. I write slowly and because of some eternally tired condition

Coming back to you after so many weeks of silence was wrong, or at least unfair. To tell the truth, Leon did not feel that he should have done it at all, the doctor recommended bed rest, but it was all the same. It was not the first time he had been thrown like a rag doll, although this time he felt like he was on the edge, dangerously balancing between life and death, when Aris's claws almost pierced his flesh. At least Leon thought he was going to die thinking about you- the only good thing in his life in recent years.

He wasn't even sure if you would let him in, but when he broke out of the dark tunnel, the whole flight he thought only about how nice it was to return to the person who, for some reason, cared about him. You weren't his wife, you weren't his work partner, you were just a girl. The girl he was afraid to fall in love with because he always thought that this love would hurt you. Although it seems that only one was injured, and it was Leon himself, who came up with stupid rules for himself to protect you.

And here he is, you look at him without any malice, although it would be worth it. Leon really doesn't think he has the right to show up like this without an invitation, but he does, looking into your eyes with a guilty look, hoping that you won't drive him away and let him lick his wounds while he lets you love him tenderly.

"Come in," you nod head, letting him into your tiny apartment, in which Leon felt better than at home.

Although it looked more like a lone wolf's lair. It was much more comfortable and even somehow warmer with you.

Taking a step, Leon feels not like a government dog, but an ordinary person who is taken by the hand and let into a small corner of paradise. Maybe it will last a day, two or a week, but he will be a little happy and loved.

"Should I heat up your dinner?" You ask casually, as if he wasn't ignoring you and running away to drown his problems in alcohol. "Leon?"

"No, I'm not hungry."

"Coffee?" Again you offer him, but he just shakes his head negatively as he sits down on the chair in front of you.

"No"

Maybe you think he came here to end all the little things that were between you, but no. He just needs you as a salvation, otherwise his head will drown in regret.

All Leon wants is for his fight not to be in vain, but every time someone else takes the place of the bad guy, and corporations continue to create viruses that turn people into bioweapons. He runs his hand over his face, feeling the annoying stubble under his palm that should have been shaved off, but having drowned in alcohol, he didn’t want to do anything.

“I just,” he looks at you with a hazy look but completely sober, “Can I stay here? With you?”

Who are you to refuse him? But be honest with yourself, you want him to stay here, especially since his beaten appearance really said that he was better off not being alone. Under the T-shirt, bruises and abrasions on the face and arms and what appears to be a dislocated shoulder are visible. In any case, wanted to believe that Leon didn’t break any bones.

"You know that my answer is yes"

Leon doesn't smile. Just eternally grateful that he won't have to sit in his dark, lonely apartment lying on his bed again after taking a strong painkiller.

He sleeps well with you, he doesn't have nightmares, and he's just comfortable here. You can turn on the TV, watch an old movie with you and lie quietly, knowing that he will not be called anywhere until he recovers. There was work left in New York for B.S.A.A and TerraSave, but not for him, besides, he didn't take a shower before coming to you, fortunately you had some of his things, including a spare toothbrush and a new disposable razor.

And that was the problem. The problem with his shoulder, which you kept looking at without stopping, as if he had grown a third arm.

“Working moments,” Leon muttered, feeling that he really wouldn’t refuse your dinner. “Can I ask you something else?"

“Yeah, sure.” You really never refused him.

Arias threw him against the wall, clearly sparing no effort, but thanks to the adrenaline, Leon didn’t feel much pain and was able to maneuver and attack this crazy bastard. The truth is that falling from a motorcycle does not benefit his body, which is why when everything calmed down, Leon realized that it was simply difficult for him to pick up the very razor that was now in your hands and do such a simple job as shaving.

“Just stay still, or better yet, sit down,” you said loudly, seeing that Leon didn’t like the touch on his neck when you tried to cover him with shaving foam.

It was already like instinct when they touched his neck. Leon immediately jerked to the side when he felt someone else's palm on his skin, as if the touch caused him pain. He never talked about how often he was grabbed by the throat, but from his reaction one could guess that this was a sensitive area that he did not like to trust to anyone but himself.

“I can’t shave you if you twitch like a little kid who doesn’t want to wash his face,” you joked, using your finger to spread the shaving foam you had on your hand onto the tip of his nose.

"Just...a reflex"

You thought about it, biting your lip, but Leon just exhaled, gathering his strength, knowing that you weren't going to kill him. He trusted you, so he calmly sat down on a small chair, putting his hands on your waist, trying to relax.

You saw how tense his muscles were, as if at any moment he was ready to make a jerk, his fingers squeezed the fabric of your tank top while you distributed foam over his face, trying not to overuse the product at the site of his abrasions that have not yet healed. When that was done, the razor in your hands gently touched the skin of his neck and gently shaved off excess hair from his face with smooth movements against the coarse hairs.

Carefully avoiding all the cuts, you managed not to hurt him. Step by step, you constantly rinsed the razor to remove all the hairs from it and walk it over the places where the stubble still remained. The most difficult thing for Leon was his neck - he felt too exposed and vulnerable, but when it was over and you moved to another zone, it seemed to you that he even exhaled.

In the end, getting carried away with the case, you didn't even notice how Leon was gradually able to relax and carefully watched your movements, finding you charming when you are so focused only on him. Maybe it's a little selfish, but for him you look so beautiful that he thinks about asking you to shave him again in a week when the stubble grows back, just to watch you take care of him again.

It took you a few minutes to catch his eye when you were completely done. The blue eyes stared at you with such attention that for a second you might have thought that something interesting was written on your face since he was looking at you like that. It's a little awkward and you look at him in response, stupidly blinking your eyes when you wipe his face with a towel, which makes a smile bloom on your lips and you look away.

"What's funny?"

To be honest, there really wasn't anything funny, it was just embarrassing for you.

"Did you leave me something like a mustache?" He joked and you burst out laughing

"Good idea! I'll do it next time."

Leon chuckled, because as a temporary joke, you could do that. That's just the accumulated fatigue that fell like a heavy boulder on him did not allow him to rejoice as much as you do.

"You're obviously going to amuse Chris," He sighed. You threw the razor into the sink and froze for a moment when you felt his head pressed against your stomach, relaxing in layers as you run your fingers through his hair "Thank you"

"No problem," you kissed the top of his head, helping him stand up, noticing how he hisses from the pain in his back when he straightens up.

"Fuck." Leon hisses in pain, catching his breath, realizing that maybe he should drink more painkillers and let a loved one take care of him. "I think I'm catching up with my age"

"Maybe. But I think you should rest and follow the doctor's recommendations at least until you stop needing painkillers."

"Until the next mission, you mean?"

You didn't say anything because you didn't know much about his work. After laying Leon on the bed, he finally exhaled with relief after looking at you with secret gratitude. Literally the only person who gives him warmth and comfort, and maybe he should come to you instead of washing down his bitterness in a bar. Thinking about it, Leon even thought that if he had stayed with you, he would not be suffering from his injuries now, however… What would have happened to Chris and Rebecca? But it's too late to regret what happened. He's alive and he's with you now. He lies in your bed listening to the usual chatter while the TV is on in the background and you settle down next to him bringing an extra blanket and pillow.

In the end, you just plopped down next to him, thoughtfully looking at the picture on the TV, pulling the blanket over yourself. Leon moved a little closer to you, hugging you around the waist, nuzzling your cheek, covering his eyes from fatigue. Of course you knew that he works for the government, but never what he does specifically. You saw the "DSO" marking on his gun, but you were afraid to ask him about it, although the fact that Leon has the right to carry and store weapons freely already hinted that he does not work in some average position and his injuries… one is worse than the other.

It is difficult to unravel the thoughts of this person, especially when he is completely immersed in himself. You know that he has some problems with alcohol and a couple of times you even quarreled about it, after which Leon always apologized by coming to you with flowers and other gifts. You turn off the light in the room, turning to him, meeting the tired gaze of blue eyes.

"Thank you. I rarely say this, but I'm grateful for everything you do for me."

"I know."

"Maybe you should find a better guy than me, but" he snuggled even closer and there was fear in his words, as if you could make him leave right now, "but I want to be with you. I can't lead a normal life, but being here with you feels like I'm becoming normal. Who he was before September 30, 1998"

"And what happened on September 30th?" you ask, putting your hand on his palm, smiling, and immediately see how noticeably even in the dark his face changes, becoming more gloomy.

"My first day working as a cop. I overslept and was late for my first day at work"

He could have said a lot and revealed his soul to you without fear if he hadn't been bound by the government. Raccoon City is classified information, and even no matter how much he values you, you shouldn't know anything about it. Fortunately, you do not pry into the truth, leaving his personal border untouched, and for this Leon is infinitely grateful. Maybe in a couple of weeks, when his injuries stop being so painful and his condition improves, he'll even laugh at what kind of mustache you made for him while shaving him again. He will really be happy and he will not need alcohol in this.

[thebottomfromhell]

Hello, I'm not very good at English. Can you do Uppermoons cautch male Y/N got eaten by other demon please.

I like to write fucked up things, let's GOOOO! Again, sorry for how late this came, I hope you like it.

Uppermoons catch Human Male Reader being eaten by other demon

Warnings: Manga spoilers, Cannibalism, Self-harm, Non-character demon death (both explicit and implied), Escesive violence, Emeto (not as a kink, never as that), Reader's death, and Angst.

Gyutaro:

"Ne... what is going on?" Other demons don't hunt in the Red Light District, the other Uppermoons have no business there, while anyone else should be afraid of angering Upper 6. But he looks at you, on the floor, clothes ripped with your flesh, blood spread all over the grown and you, not even breathing, heart giving it's last beats. There are too many injuries, it doesn't matter what Gyutaro does. You will not be able to heal from this.

The demon just sensed Upper Six presence behind him as light leaves your eyes, and tears forming in the bulging and yellow ones. The other demon takes some steps back before starting to run, not making it pass the hallway as Gyutaro not only stabs him from behind, and throws him back in, breaking the spine. Crying, the Uppermoon scratches himself, ripping and clawing a skin that heals seconds after recieving harm, blood staying as dirt within the nails, as he hisses and roars in anger an pain, looking as the definition of monster.

By the time he is done, while still alive, the other demon was all the limbs separated, an open skull in which the brain leaks from, no eyes, tongue out, intestines around the torso, and everything spread across the walls and ground. There is no way that a demon that weak will heal before dunrise, but Gyutaro doesn't care. He just carries your torso and head with watever limb is left attatched, burrying your face in his chest as he walks away in silence with a sense of deja vù, the only difference is the lack of crisp, and the fact that the body smells like a big man, instead of a little girl.

Gyokko:

Gyokko stares at disbelief at first. What the hell? He only left you alone about an hour... HOW DID YOU EVEN GET INTO THIS MESS?! REALLY?! AND THE FACT THAT A NOBODY DIDN'T REALIZE HE WAS THERE! HOW INSULTING! "WHAT THE HELL, Y/N?! HOW CAN YOU BE THIS USELESS!" "Let's him around" Gyokko said, "he won't cause trouble" he said about you. And look now, you are a dead man. You were just suppose to grab some materials for him, not die! What use are you now?

And of course the nobody starts running the second that it realizes it was caught by a better being, of course (Gyokko will not refer to that demon as anything as an it. What respect does that creature deserve in front of Upper 5?) It doesn't even salute or say anything to Gyokko, not even apologizing for the offense. He would follow after and punish the demon, but it's bot worth his time. Instead, he focuses on your body, barely alive. He can at least make something with you. "Gy-... Gyokko..." you do show better manners, but they won't be of use that long. You will not make it.

But... Gyokko is inspired, and there is nothing more to fear than an inspired Gyokko. The agony and the acceptance of your fate in your eyes is giving him some ideas, so he starta to summon more material to make a piece of art. He will keep your body on pristine condition, you can be assured of that. If you would have liked that... he doesn't really care. "Now let's start with my next work, Y/N."

Hantengu:

What... ? What is going on... ? Why are you being eaten... ? In front of him.... "Tch-KYAAAAHHHHHHHH!" He screams, alerting the other demon that they have been caught, standing up as he just swallowed some of you flesh. At first they want to defend their prey before the realization that they are in front of Upper Four strikes. Even if Hantengu is still screching his tongue out of his throat, the other demon recognizes it as a loss battle, so they began to run away. It takes the Uppermoon some seconds to realize your killer is gone, but it's already too late.

He looks at your body, horrorified, scared, even if he himself has done worse. You can still be recognized as someone with the body with a young man, face still able to tell who you are to people to know you, if wiped the blood from your nose and mouth. Still, it doesn't change the fact that is not a nice view to have your stomach open with organs and different fluids leaking out, only having the bones to fully stop the solids from flowing all the way outside. It's a disgusting but a appetizing display.

As he sobs and trembles, part of Hantengu considers eating your body, with the nice smell and flesh set in front of him. Other part is afraid of those thoughts, and the idea you might turn into a spirit and come back for revenge. That hardly ever stops him from eating... maybe just a taste. You always tasted and felt so good, you would not do anything for a little nibble, would you? He takes a bite off your small instestine, slowly, as if fearing you would wake up. The bitter and sour taste is nice against the hungry tongue but... he can't eat anymore. He even throws up besides you at the fact you are dead. And you are not coming back.

Sekido:

He stares at first, disbelief and anger flourishing inside his chest as hia miscles tense up and hia face lifts in a harder frown. "ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?! YOU FUCKING PIECE OF TRASH?!" You get to hear that, still not dead, but the bloodloss not helping at all at staying alive. It's hard to say if Sekido is talking to you or this other demon, who gets startled after hearing what was basically a roar from the Upper 4. This other demons tries to run, but he is trapped in Sekido's thunder.

"YOU ARE NOT GOING ANYWHERE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" He says, but besides that he doesn't move, even when he looks at you. You can barely see him, vision being a blur, you are tired, can feel your ripped arm the same way there is this sting and cold in that missing part, a phantom pain, besides that, your back was clawed, and while it wasn't as damaging as the other blow... you are bleeding out, and fast. You don't think Sekido would be of help, unless you let him turn you into a demon. "N..... o...." you barely mouth as everything becomes black, and hope he understands.

While Sekido accepts your desition.... he doesn't. Why would you prefer to die than becoming like him, is there something you didn't tell him? Do you actually dislike his demon nature that much? "Fucking die!" His anger rises as he makes a bigger blow, one that basically knocks up the other demon before thrusting his staff into his face, taking his anger out on them. He repeats the process several times, making sure to leave enough holes so the limbs fall apart, that way they won't heal until sunrise. "SO FUCKING INFURIATING!" Had the other demon scaped, this might have been you.

Karaku:

Ah? Did he just saw.... ? Oh shit. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Whag the hell? He is mine!" Nope, nope, he didn't just see a demon eating you. Nope he- ok, he did. He doesn't want to accept it, but Karaku knows better than to delude himself. He sees your body, arm torn apart, and you are bleeding from your back. The demon was just munching on the limb when the part of Upper 4 appraches, screaming.

At first this demon takes a fighting stance, only to see Karaku's eyes. The Kanji in said eyes is everything to know about him, enough to have this other predator trying to run, but he is grabbed by the clone, who also destroys their arms by twisting and pulling it. There are no screams, just a second of shock that Karaku takes to use his leaf and make the air crush his enemy against the ground. Truthfully? Karaku is annoyed and angry, but... he keeps loyal to his netore the second he looks at your body, unconscious but alive.

He knows you wouldn't want to become a demon, even if he has a hard time accepting it. He is tempted to just transform you using his blood, better than anything else, including your death. It's really tempting... he doesn't know why he isn't moving, doing it, but in the end he just grabs you to have your head rest in his lap. "Hey, handsome... you really are a mess, aren't ya?" He talka to himself, to make these moments more pasable and then return to his normal self, knowing that it will mean leaving your corpse behind. "Guess I am late for the party."

Urogi:

"Y/N?" He asks for your name weakly while looking at the scene, still having not fully procesed what he just saw. It takes a few more seconds of seeing a demon he has never encountered before ripping from your arm in his hands, instead of having it attatched to your body, each bite making streatching sound as the skin and tissue as forcefully separated from others with fangs and claws, making is easier than it would be with humans. The smell and noise, most of the time, would make Urogi's mouth watter with joy and hunger.

Now Urogi is angry, scared, frustrated, and many other negative feelings that stress him out a lot, all of them against his nature of the joy clone. He doesn't even say anything before attacking the other demon, using the talons in his feet to grab them by the arms and then the ones in his hands to pull the head apart in two. There is a scream of surprise, then of pain, as the face is taken off the skull with the sides and hair, then the arms get pulled and torn. Urogi dismembers the demon as if he was breaking apart his own food.

You don't get to see nothing of it, since the bloodloss got to you first. There is blood spread all over the ground but Urogi doesn't care as he rushes to grab you. "Y/N! Y/N! Please answer!" But you can't. If you are alive or just unconcious, he can't tell due the panic under your condition. "Y/N!" He begins to cry and sob, not knowing what do do, unable to let you ho. As for the demon... they won't heal until after sunrise.

Aizetsu:

Aizetsu looks at you tired, sad, deppressed, but that is his normal face, there is a mix of dissapointment amd acceptance in his eyes as he approached with his spear in his hand. He didn't expect you to die this way, while he wasn't looking. He never deluded himself into thinking you would live as much as him, or the same way he does, but was it too much to ask to be careful of other demons? He can recognize by the marks in your back which make you bleed out... you were trying to run.

"How sad." He says when he gets behind the other demon, who just realizes there is someone behind him. But that doesn't matter, Aizetsu uses his weapon to blow the upper part of his head up, blinding the other creature that was just licking your blood from his hands as they ate your arm. Then, with that same spear, he stabs their stomach and corners them into a tree by pushing until the en of the spear meets another end, position locking the demon against Aizetsu and the surface. Not that he cares as he makes another spear to cut the limbs so they can't scape. "The sun will be the one to end your pathetic life, I almost pity you. But you have made me sad already."

Then he goes towards you and kneels in front of your body, looking at it with the same expression than before. He could save you, to turn you into a demon, you are not gone yet, he can tell as he touches your pulse. There is something left... but he doesn't try anything. If it's out of respect that it should be your choice to make or an attempt to follow his nature and make himself more miserable, he can't tell. "Goodbye Y/N." But that doesn't change the results.

Nakime:

When she summoned you, she didn't expect you to have compaly, something grabbing you eagerly, not willing to let go off your flesh. Not something, someone. She would raise an eyebrow if she could, but even with the hair over most of her face, she doesn't look impressed at all. All Nakime does is wait for this other demon, clutching to one of your legs, with their arms and mouth, biting and ripping the flesh of your corpse, if the hole in your chest and slice on your neck are meant to tell her something, to realize where they are.

This is what happens for trusting men, she guess, specially human men. You told her you would be fine, that you could handdle yourself, and as an idiot she decided to believe you, or rather, pretend she did and let you go. She sighs as some seconds pass and all she can hear is someone chewing on your flesh. Nakime ends up clearing her throat before sending a whole room to move towards the surface, a wall from her point of view, and crush both you and the other demon. She would rather nor havibg to care by the corpse.

The she opens a door on the same surface, making your corpse and the demon fall to it. She will release both of you to the sun at the middle of the day. Besides that, she will distract herself. She already lost a husband, this? This is nothing to her, she will just have to play a different cord, switch her place, and move on.

Akaza:

7 seconds to react. 5 seconds, his eyes are open with dispair. 3 seconds he let's out a sob as tears form in his eyes. 2 seconds, he moves towards you and reaches, leving the last second to a blow in this other demons's head. They don't even have a chance to react as another punch reaches the stomach, thrusting through the flesh, reaching the organs, which are grabbed by the Upper Moon 3 and taken off. As twist and a pull rip off the limbs one by one, then he keeps taking organs and throwing bones. Even a Kizuki would have troubles healing that level of damage and carnage.

But Akaza doesn't contemplate his masterpiece instead he falls to his knees, white pants getting dirty with the red body parts smashed around, still twitching alive as the cells try to heal them together, and he sobs again, having hold avery tear and cry besides the one he had before the assoult until now. He takes a look at your corpse, and he starts trembling as he tenses his body out of anger, having to crawl wherw you are. Humans can't survive a missing heart, demons can, but you?

He crys holding your corpse, just like he did with her, "Y/N!" He cries for you, the second lover he had until he lost Koyuki. Now he lost you too, and he can't handdle it. He promised to get stronger to protect you, and again, his loved one die when he is not even around, but somehow he is to blame for it. He failed you, and he hates hinself for it, as a sense of deja vù takes over him, and nothing matter anymore. Not even his own life, as he has a corpse of a dead man with a whole on his chest and a heart half eating besides Akaza. "I'm so sorry...."

Douma:

Dpuma tilts his head, he wasn't expecting to find another demon inside his cult eating his followers. Specially a male like yourself, confusing him a lot, why not go for a woman? Is this demon like Akaza-dono? Well... that is annoying. It's one thing that he let's Akaza-dono get away with not eating women, but a nobody like this demon? Why else would they eat you over every rich in nutrient ans scent women in the cult if they were going to eat someone from it anyway? Besides, Douma didn't invite this demon to his home or offfered food, and yet here they are invading his territory and taking his things. Now that will not do!

"Excuse me." He starts politely, there is no reason to lose his head over this, not when you already lost yours, quite literally. There is a preassure in Douma's chest, but nothing he knows that it won't leave eventually. "It's quite rude to get into somebody's else house and take their food without asking." The demon, who at first paralyzed on their tracks, still with pieces of your flesh in their mouth, turns around and see Upper 2. "I hope you don't mind if I take it all back." He says before grabbing the demon and start to absorb the body of a protesting and squirming demon.

"Well, much better. Though, I still have to deal with you, Y/N... Oh, I know! Silly me! I will finish to eat your corpse." He talks to you as if you were still alive, then begins to eat. For a male, your flesh is ver nice, not as tender and soft as a woman's, but still very appetizing. His fangs rip easily your skin and tissue, chewing them into asoft, wet and warm texture before swallowing every pieve of you, even breaking the bones and licking the blood on the surface. "Thanks for the meal, Y/N!" He says as he finished, satisfied with a satiated stomach.

Kokushibou:

We wasn't expecting to find you like this, with pieces of flash ripped off by claws and fangs, demon hacing fled the second Kokushibou was visible. No, not even then, because Kokushibou was visible for a long time before the demon even noticing, too focused on ripping off your flesh from your body, licking ecen fro the grown that left it's soruces from a missing leg and claw markings all over your body. You even have a hole in your stomach as that demon started to eat some of your insides, trusting themselves with time.

Even after that demon runs away from the Upper Moon One, Kokushibou just stares as your corpse, having being paralyzed the secons he saw the state of your body, that slowly became worse at the mouth and hands of a mere spawn of a demon. No sound leaves his mouth, even if there is the guilt of the fact that you were probably alive when he first saw you, and yet he didn't do anything to save you. Was it due some shock? Something that sunconsciously wantes you to die? Or was he just too blind to do something just like with his mother desease? Well, it doesn't really matter, but there is one thing he can do for you, so he gives your body a final look before leaving it behind and never return.

It takes him less than a few seconds to reach where that demon is, their speed not comparing to him as Kokushibou takes his sword, sword that used to be a nichirin like any other. "Ichi no kata: Yamidkuzi, "Yoi no Miya." It might be a bit of an overkill to actually use a breathing form but... he guesses you deserve that, as he beheads the demon that was eating you. It's a smotth movemente and a fast swing, and as soon as the head touches the ground, rolling away from him, the body begins to desintegrate. The work is done, even if it was more a slayer's job than his. It's over, that was his closure, the first one he got, so he is satisfied with it... for now.

[thankskenpenders]

There’s been some discussions on Twitter recently about if Blaze’s dimension is worth keeping around and expanding on or if it should be ignored/merged with Sonic’s world thanks to a Bumblekast clip. What are your thoughts on Blaze’s dimension as a story-telling hurdle/ alternate setting? I personally feel like it wouldn’t make a difference if Blaze was a princess from another dimension or a princess from the other side of the world, it would just be easier for her to show up if she wasn’t from another dimension, but I also think it’s be neat to expand on Blaze’s world as a parallel to Sonic’s.

I think there's a whole cottage industry of Sonic fans who just like to take things Ian says out of context so they can rile people up on Twitter, and the fandom falls for it every time, and it's extremely tiring

But also I think Ian is right

This isn't something I've really shared, but I actually have a document where I've kept ideas for what I would do with a hypothetical modern reboot of Archie Sonic where I'm allowed to start from scratch and change anything I want. (I might share some of this someday, perhaps with some character designs, but for now it's just a thing for me. It's not like I'm gonna do a comic or anything.) For Blaze, I immediately decided that all of the elements from the Sol Dimension should be merged with the regular Mobius. I would just say that Sonic and friends have all their adventures on one hemisphere of the planet, and Blaze is from the other. I mean, the Sol Dimension already has a heavy Australia/Oceania vibe. It'd be really easy. This way, there would still be some level of separation, and Blaze would still have her own territory where she gets to be the main hero, but it'd be WAY easier to actually use those elements. Characters can just show up on whatever part of the planet they need to be on for any given story

For some reason people seem to think that Blaze being from a separate dimension isn't a storytelling hurdle at all, and I really don't know what franchise they're following, because it sure as hell isn't the version of Sonic I know. Yes, in theory it could be as simple as just using a warp ring to hop over to the Sol Dimension whenever. There are ways to write around it. I'd love to see that happen so that we could flesh out Blaze's world some more. Give Blaze some more allies and villains of her own! Give her more to do over there, and more reasons for Sonic and co. to visit! But clearly Sega isn't down with that, considering the Sol Dimension has only ever been in one game and, what, two issues of the IDW comics for maybe ten pages total? Sega's just sitting on it, and it's impossible not to see the fact that it's a whole separate dimension as the reason.

Even if we were getting more stories about traveling to and from the Sol Dimension, it'd still be a hassle. You want to use the Chaotix in a story in the Sol Dimension? Wanna use Marine or Johnny or whoever in a story set on the main world? Well, you'd better think up an airtight excuse for why those characters are traveling between the dimensions and pray that Sega approves of it. And right now that seems to be one hell of an obstacle, given how little we see of the Sol Dimension even though I know damn well Ian and Evan would love to explore it more. It's gotten to the point that Blaze is now on an endless "vacation" on Sonic's Earth so that they can actually use her in stories. People have been acting like merging the worlds would completely take away everything that makes Blaze special as a character, when it would just make all of her personal story stuff infinitely easier to work with than it is right now.

"Oh but what about the Sol Emeralds?" There's no reason the Sol Emeralds couldn't exist on the same planet as the Chaos Emeralds. We've already got other magic rocks like the Time Stones, the Phantom Ruby, and the Warp Topaz. "But what about Eggman Nega?" I could not give less of a shit about what happens to Eggman Nega and Sega doesn't even use him anymore, but also he's already supposed to be from Silver's future, not the Sol Dimension. "But what about the plot of Sonic Rush where the whole point was that they had to stop the worlds from being merged because they thought it was a bad thing?" Yes, because Sonic has always been a series that treated canon as sacred an immutable, and Sega would never do something that contradicted a game from almost 20 years ago

Anyway, all of this is a moot point. It's not like this is going to happen. Ian just brought up the possibility on the BumbleKast as an "if I could change literally anything" type deal. Sega is not going to do this. He is allowed to have his own opinions on Sonic things without fans having to take it personally and scream and cry about it. You don't have to agree with him on everything. I've certainly had points I disagree with him on! It's fine! That's normal! He's only human. Yes, Ian is on the Lore Team, but he's just one voice in the room. He's not even the boss of that team. If Ian could get whatever he wanted, we'd have seen the Freedom Fighters and Sticks by now

[jojo-schmo]

hi jojo! im just wondering but ive been wanting to make a comic for a little while but im not too sure where to start 😅. i really love your style of art and your forgotten land roleswap, and i was wondering if you had any tips for beginners?

Hello, hello! Thank you for enjoying my Forgotten Land Roleswap comic, it means a lot! <3

I'm very honored that people have been asking me for tips and advice. All of this is coming from a hobbyist who draws these comics purely for fun outside of my regular day job. Some of my methods would probably deal psychic damage to a professional, LOL. But I'm more than happy to share some things I've personally learned! :)

First of all, the book, "Understanding Comics" by Scott McCloud ROCKS. It literally gave me a new dimension to understand the medium of comics and how it presents ideas and emotions to readers! And I haven't even had the chance to finish it all the way! I'm very happy I own a copy and I recommend having one of your own if you can, but it's archived here if you want to read it :D

I also like analyzing other comics and thinking about how they get information across to me as a reader. It's helped me learn more effective ways to visually tell a story, like what to include in a frame, how zooming in or out affects the feeling from the panel, maybe building a scene by focusing on other stuff if someone is talking a lot... etc.

ANYWAYS-! Some other tips I've learned through my personal experience-

I had to overcome a lot of negative self-talk in order to tackle a huge comic project like this and stay committed. I was a pretty severe self-deprecator for most of my life so far, and getting help has allowed me to catch myself when I'm slipping back into those habits, look in the mirror, and go, "NO, JOJO! You pour your heart into what you make and that is a wonderful thing! You are appreciated and loved and you deserve to have fun making something you are passionate about!!" Some examples of the negative self-talk I catch myself in....

"I'm a noob at writing and making a story interesting... What's the point of even trying?"

When it comes to starting a project, whether it's 2 pages or 2000 pages, is to just jump in and start! It's okay to be a little insecure or nervous about your technical art skills, writing skills, etc... But writing a "bad" scene is better than no scene- because you can always edit a "bad" scene down the line, but what can you do with nothing? Nothing!! I also put "bad" in quotation marks because I am trying to use that term less, and instead call them "early drafts." or "works in progress."

The first Roleswap scene I fleshed-out was the first Bandee boss fight, in May 2022. I made this drawing on an impulse, getting my ideas down on the page without thinking about the technical stuff like comic panel borders. I consider it like a "pilot episode" almost, haha. The final project is going to be very different from how things play out here. But it got me interested in the concept and excited to see where I could take it, and I made the decision to commit to an entire game plot's worth of AU comics!!

Also, what's the point in trying you ask? The point is to have fun! Making a fan comic in my free time means I don't have restrictions like deadlines, nobody's telling me what I can and can't write, and I can make the story as long or as short as I want! I have full control, which means the world I'm writing is all mine to create! Yes, with a fan comic there is a pre-established world with existing characters. But a universe like Kirby has enough open-ended concepts for people to take basic concepts in the world and take them to whole new levels! I think that's why there are so many amazing fan interpretations of Kirby characters and OCs. The rules are so vague, you can just make up your own a lot of the time!! And it's a wonderful exercise to learn skills for someday building an original world with all original characters from scratch! Magical!!!

"I'm not good enough to make a comic. I don't understand perspective or color and other stuff. Anything I make will look bad.

I once read a two panel comic on here. I can't find it anymore but I remember most of it. First panel showed the artist looking at what they're drawing on their tablet, looking defeated and sad. "Man, I don't even know how to draw this....."The next panel was like them smiling and shrugging, I think rainbows and sparkles were coming out of their tablet, ".....I GUESS I'LL JUST HAVE TO DRAW IT SHITTY!! :D "

IF ANYONE KNOWS THIS COMIC I'M REFERENCING, PLEASE TELL ME AND I'LL LINK IT!!! Because it permanently and positively changed my brain chemistry.

No kidding, making the decision to just do my best even if it's not perfect, helped me a LOT. I was always waiting to "reach a certain level" to tackle a huge project because I felt like I'd never do it justice at my current state. Except I had been telling myself that kind of stuff for years and I still didn't start any projects!!

So the day I said, "Oh well! If I draw backgrounds shitty, then it is what it is! I'll learn from it and draw the next background a little better," Was the day I could commit fully to the project. I'll keep studying how to draw them better for my own benefit, but I won't let my skill issues stop me from even trying!

And for my limited confidence in full-color art, I solved that by making the comic in black and white with no-to-minimal shading lolol. Because I can only address one skill issue at a time before it takes me 25 years to finish this HAHAHA.

It saves a BUNCH of time to work with skill issues rather than against them! Because at least experience is gained in other ways, and who knows, maybe that new knowledge will help address the skill issues someday! So identifying your personal skill issues and deciding which one to try to grow stronger, and which one to work around, could help with big projects!

"Nobody will read this. I'm going to put months or years of my life into a dumb little thing nobody will even care about."

Learning how to draw for my own enjoyment instead of somebody else's was one of the biggest breakthroughs I ever made. Enjoying the feeling of being challenged artistically and just doing my best, even if it's not technically perfect, is the reason why I was even able to start this!

And just because someone doesn't directly like, comment or whatever on a post doesn't mean nobody saw it! I used to get really down on myself for the lack of engagement on my art on other websites.

I was a lurker for pretty much my entire teenage years and never posted my own stuff or commented much. But that didn't take away the fact that I really enjoyed the things I saw online. Those positive feelings were real to me, even when I didn't know how to articulate it in words. Granted, I grew up into a Words of Affirmation main, and I use words to tell people the positive things I think about them as much as I can! But I know not everyone prefers words to express themselves. So I think about the people that I don't know enjoy my work- that just because I don't see it doesn't mean I didn't make a positive impact on someone by sharing my stories.

THIS IS GETTING LONG-- UHHH, STORY TIPS!!

If you work best on technology, start building the story in a Notes app, or a Google Doc! If you work best with pen and paper, start a notebook and rearrange stuff as you need to!

Or if you're chaotic like me, a mix of tech and paper!! I bought a notebook with ring binding so I can remove and rearrange pages of drafts as much as I wanted to! Like here's two very rough concept pages of one Chapter 1 scene made months apart.

I'd say planning out the biggest basic plot points and then filling in between as I went was most helpful! I also have separate notes for character motivations, important story-changing events, etc... So I can have my own reference when I'm writing new scenes!

Okay this was a lot, sorry about the yapping! Hopefully it helps even a tiny bit. If you have any specific questions I'm happy to talk about my experience in the creation process! Or elaborate on anything I said above.

And finally, because I'm not a professional there are probably plenty of other tactics that could work better for some people. My ADHD probably doesn't help with the chaos of my process either, HAHA. But thank you for reading this far and enjoying the peek into the rainbow glitter and soap bubbles that inhabit the right side of my brain, heehee.

[esoteric-joke]

Interview with Brooklyn_Babylon

(#Interview3)

Welcome to the next interview of the Dear Writer Project. This Sunday I’m here with Gina (twopoppies here on Tumblr). Thank you so much for participating and supporting my project. It was a pleasure to interview you.

Gina about her writing process, her inspirations and what she finds most challenging about writing:

What does your writing process look like?

Oh, you're going to call me out right from the get-go, huh? LOL! My writing process is that I am a complete pantser. I hate outlining and I'm not good at it (probably why I hate it). I generally get inspired by something visual and then build a story around that. The difficulty is that often, there's a concept, but there's no real story to tell. Or, I can't quite flesh it out enough to make it worth writing. But when something connects, I go bother India (indiaalphawhiskey on Tumblr) who is my beta/BFF/cheerleader and we'll talk through the story idea.

She's super helpful in terms of pushing me to think it through enough that I can write a very basic outline of what needs to happen to get from A to B. Then, I wing it. LOL!

What does writing mean to you?

From the time I was a kid, I've always been involved in doing something artistic--from fine art, to costume design, to writing, etc. I've just always needed some way to express myself, creatively. It took me a long time to get comfortable writing fiction because there are a few people in my family who are highly respected authors, and I felt I needed something of my own to sink my teeth into. But now that I've started, I realize how much I do love it (even when I hate it), and how much it allows me to dig deep into my own thoughts and emotions and be more self-aware. Beyond that, I think I'm at my most comfortable when I feel I'm helpful/supportive/nurturing. I used to write non-fiction that gave me that outlet. It's interesting that I can see those aspects in my fiction writing, as well.

Do you know before you start writing if an idea is going to become a oneshot or a longer fic?

I can generally tell if there's enough of a story to make it a chaptered fic. Sometimes the chapters just separate naturally.

Like, in An Invincible Summer, the story unfolded so that each chapter was a different month. But I had a basic idea of how I wanted the story to progress over that time period. I think, for the most part, I let the story dictate how it's going to flow.

You don’t write (or publish) as regularly as some other writers in the fandom. Why is that and would you like to write/publish more in the future?

Part of the reason is that I have a really busy life outside of the fandom (and writing). I also don't like to write just to fill up space. And I don't want to publish anything I don't think is the best I'm capable of at that moment.

On top of that, I'm just not one of those people who has a million stories in my head. I'm very visually stimulated and there are long periods of time where I just don't feel inspired. I also second-guess myself a lot and often end up shelving my WIPs. And... even when I'm inspired, I tend to write slowly. I like to take time to make sure I'm really saying what I want to say in the best way I can. I want to grow and challenge myself with each story I publish. I just don't see a point in doing it without that sort of intention.

On which of your stories did you write the longest?

I think An Invincible Summer probably took the longest. But it was also one of the easiest for me to write because the story just wrote itself in some ways. I had a much clearer picture from the start of how things were going to unfold. At the same time, there were moments that just happened as I wrote that ended up shifting the story from what I'd originally planned.

I recently went back and re-wrote that fic, adding another 10K to flesh it out better. I'm so much happier with it (even though I loved it before), but I haven't published the updated version on AO3. Not sure whether I will.

Which of your stories came together the fastest?

The first one (Whoever, However). But it's also only 9K. Harry dropped that Beauty Papers spread and my brain exploded. The story was all there. I think Hike Up Your Skirt was probably the next quickest (again, it's not terribly long), but that one I originally wrote for the Anonymous Unicorns collection so there was a lot of freedom in getting to write anything I wanted without fear of judgment. If I could only harness that, I'd be able to bang them out!

What fic of yours was the hardest to write?

I think Literally Making Love.

It was an unusual premise, in that it's about a robot and a human falling in love, but I really struggled with whether I should make it "more" than a love story. It felt like it deserved to be "more", or that it should have more about how AI changes the world and a conversation about loneliness and the way the world contributes to that. So I kept feeling like I wasn't going down the right path with what I was writing, but India reminded me that there's just as much value in a lighthearted story as there is in "serious" writing. We all know the joy of sinking into a comfort fic, or kicking our feet at something really sweet and happy. So I let Literally Making Love be what it wanted to be and I was ultimately super proud of it. And, in the end, I think I did a good job of dealing with the ethical issues, even though I didn't make that the center of the fic.

What inspires you most while writing?

Visuals to begin with. I tend to get inspired by photos or a piece of art. Sometimes song lyrics. But visuals keep me going so I make moodboards for myself and I find quotes or pictures on Tumblr that feel like they belong to the story. I think all of my fics have a link to an inspiration tag on my blog.

And then talking through things with India.

It's so helpful to have someone who gets what you're shooting for and who has the same sense of what makes for good writing. So I'll brainstorm with her when I'm stuck or give her sections to see if it's reading the way I want it to... It keeps me going.

I don't know how writers do it all by themselves. There are times when I've read something so many times that I can't even tell if it's any good. And I do the same for her... helping her get through her writing challenges or brainstorming her projects also makes me a better writer.

In the notes of Literally Making Love you mentioned a 9 month long writers block. What helped you out of it?

Truly it was just that piece of fan art I linked in the note at the start. I'd never seen that artist's work before and this drawing of Louis building an unfinished Harry ended up on my dash and I said, "Well, I'd read the hell out of that." Sadly, no one else was going to write it for me, so I had to do it myself.

While talking about this, I pointed out that I searched a few tags of this particular trope after I finished reading Literally Making Love and couldn’t find more than a handful of fics, which I was surprised by.

Gina thinks people are put off by the idea even if there are so many ways to handle it that could make for a beautiful story.

What do you find most challenging about writing?

I was about to say finding a title, but then I realized that I only had trouble with that in two of the five I wrote.

Hmm. Honestly, I think the most difficult thing for me to write are arguments/fights.

I tend to be really passive-aggressive when I argue, and that doesn't make for very good reading. So I really have to work at crafting a back-and-forth that feels natural but also packs enough of a punch for the scene to work. In An Invincible Summer, the argument scene was pretty pivotal, and one of my betas at the time made me re-write it three times before she signed off on it.

Is there anything you can tell me about future projects you’re planning?

I'm working on another historical fic at the moment. It's slow burn and longer than anything I've written before. So that's a challenge. It's set in the 1880s between the Belle Epoch debauchery and decadence of Paris, and Victorian London's rigid social structure and moral conservatism. Basically, Harry is a French ballet dancer turned sex worker/courtesan. Louis is a British aristocrat whose father has sent him off to Paris to get "the gay" out of his system before he has to marry. There are some twists and turns, and I'm having a lot of fun trying to keep things sexy and exciting for a modern reader while still being true to the time period.

I still don't have a title, and I'm still working on a brief description to sum it up. But... I'm about 60K in and I'm having fun.

When I told Gina that that sounds like you’d have to but lot of research into it, she said:

So much research! But I actually love that part. I get really into the nitty gritty and look up everything. For example, did you know the ice cream cone wasn't invented until 1896 (although not patented until 1903)? LOL! I had to change a scene I was writing because all of a sudden, I thought, "Did they have ice cream then? How did they keep it cold? How did they eat it?" I honestly hate reading something when little details are wrong. It totally pulls me out of a story.

For the next part of the interview, I asked Gina a few questions about her works in particular.

Gina about her favourite scene she wrote, her experience with writing before writing fanfics and being inspired by her own family’s history:

What work of yours is your personal favourite?

Hm. I think Literally Making Love is my favorite because it's the most unique concept, and I'm really proud of some of the writing in that one.

Hike Up Your Skirt is, I think, my most popular one. But that's not surprising because it's complete filth.

Do you have a favourite scene that you wrote?

There's a scene in Literally Making Love when they're walking the dog through the woods, and they're talking about the concept of being lonely, and Harry realizes he's the only one in the world who can understand anything he's experienced. I just really loved how that scene came together. To me it's very visual, and it's got that kind of poetic, dreamy feeling to it that I love to find in fics (and am forever trying to emulate, but I think that might be the only time I've succeeded so far).

I told Gina that this was a scene that definitely made me think about the concept of being all alone with an experience. Here’s what she said about that:

I like moments in a story that make you stop and think about more than just the story you're reading. I think these days, we can much more easily connect with others who can understand most of our experiences very deeply. Although, I imagine if you were the only highly advanced AI robot in the world, you might have some experiences no one else has had to grapple with.

Is there a work of yours that was planned to go completely different than it came out in the end?

There are definitely moments within the stories that I never planned on, and they changed some aspects of how the story ultimately came together.

For example, in An Invincible Summer, the idea for Harry to hold on to memories by getting a camera popped out of nowhere.

In Literally Making Love, the scene of Louis painting Harry's tattoos over his scars came in a dream and that meant I added the aspect of Harry's body dysmorphia. So, little things for sure.

Whoever, However was your first fic you published. Did you write in any form before that?

I did.

I wrote non-fiction for a bunch of magazines and online outlets. I've also ghostwritten three books.

Beyond that, no. Just lengthy blog posts about two gay boybanders.

What were your inspirations for gathered on wings?

There was a photo of Louis in some sort of haphazardly layered jackets and standing in front of these graffitied walls, and it had this caption, saying that he looked like a PhD candidate at the Sorbonne. That was how the idea started.

I had wanted to write a teacher/student fic without the creepy aspect of grooming and inappropriate conduct, and somehow my comment led to Harry having been his intern and them meeting again years later.

Then, the research on all the modern art and the high-end art world informed the rest of the story.

You didn’t go much into detail how successful Harry’s art got after ‘Comrade’ recommended his art for an exhibition at the Marlborough Gallery. Was that the push Harry’s work needed to get the attention it deserved?

It was.

He'd been relying on sugar daddies to pay his way and to give him the connections to patrons. But Comrade vouching for him opened the doors to him being able to do it independently. It's that feeling of, "If I could just get my foot in the door, I could show them what I can do."

That was his foot in the door.

Gathered on wings was my first attempt at writing a chaptered fic, and there was a huge learning curve. There are parts of it I really like and parts I sometimes want to go back and re-write.

Do you think Louis’ identity in gathered on wings always stayed hidden even after they got engaged (and eventually married)?

I like to imagine that as Harry became more widely known, people became interested in his partner. And Louis would then decide to reveal his identity with a new installation that they collaborated on.

Staying hidden when your partner is famous is probably a hard thing to do.

I think so. Especially if you're in the same field. In a way, it mirrors the idea of the two of them coming out at some point.

You said in the notes for An Invincible Summer that it’s inspired by your grandfather’s life. Was that your only inspiration for the story?

It's what set the scene. Other than that, I knew I wanted to write about writing and seeing yourself in a book or feeling understood by someone you never met but who's somehow written about you and your life. The concept of feeling really "seen" is something that shows up again and again for me.

You didn’t go into any detail about Harry’s relationship with his adoptive parents after he left at the end of An Invincible Summer, even though his mother tried to support him as much as she could when he had to leave. Do you think they held contact after Harry was forced to leave or if he/they even went back as a part of H & L’s adventures?

I think Harry managed to stay in touch with his mother secretly and to eventually reunite with his sisters.

When I rewrote the story, I changed the middle sister to a brother to show another way that Harry was treated differently. So I imagine Big Jim and the little brother digging their heels in and acting like he never existed. But Harry and Louis eventually had a beautiful and extensive found family.

The end of Hike Up your Skirt (And Show Your World To Me) is pretty much open. How do you think their relationship progressed and do you think they have a chance of having a normal (as in no power imbalance or manipulation) relationship?

Mmm. I actually started writing a second part from Harry's POV where you see that Harry is also playing a game to get Louis to fall for him. I see their relationship becoming a 24/7 Dom/Sub life. I think they're both way too kinky and maybe a little too depraved to have a "normal" relationship.

Are any of your original characters inspired by people you know in your day-to-day life?

No, actually. LOL! Very simple answer. They're all just figments of my imagination.

A lot of other writers in the fandom have difficulties or are just a little uncomfortable with writing smut. That doesn’t seem to be the case for you. Why’s that?

HAHAHAHA! No, I think it’s actually the easiest part for me to write. I’m not sure why. I don’t have a lot of hang ups around sex, so maybe that helps. And I love the idea of character development through intimate scenes.

How did you come up with the idea for your fic rec masterpost here on Tumblr and how did all of that start?

I think it just started because someone asked if I could recommend some fics in a particular category (If I remember correctly, it might have been dystopian fics). And I had too much time on my hands, so I decided to make a header and write little blurbs about why I liked each one I was suggesting.

Somehow that turned into a deluge of people asking for different things and, for whatever reason, I had the time at that moment. So I made rec after rec.

At some point it was annoying that people kept asking for the same things, so I just made an alphabetical masterpost.

Is there a specific trope or genre you’d like to read more of?

Oh, that's a good question. It's so much easier to tell you what I don't like.

Honestly, to me, it's really more about the writing than about the trope or genre. But I do really like a good enemies-to-lovers fic, and if you can write a new twist on a fake relationship, I'm all in.

Do you somehow track the fics you’ve read? And if you do, can you give me a rough number of how many you’ve read?

So, I only bookmark fics I've really loved. Obviously some I love more than others, but I currently have 655 fics bookmarked.

I've been reading in this fandom for 11 years. Some I won't have read all the way through, but counting those, I'm sure I've literally read thousands.

I've gone through periods where I've just got a lot more free time at one point or another. And when I entered the fandom in 2013 there were literally so many terrific fics I didn't know where to start.

And every time you turned around there was another. It was very addicting.

Are you reading anything right now? If not, what was the last thing you’ve read?

I have a hard time reading when I'm actively writing, so nothing really recent.

The last fic I read that I really liked was Danger I Can't Hide by CelticSky. It's actually a WWII fic but set on the airbase where H is a pilot and Louis is a mechanic. It's just so well written and so well researched. Highly recommend.

For the next part of the interview, Gina answered some personal questions about her experiences in the fandom.

Since when are you in the fandom and what made you become a fan?

Since November 2013.

I took my daughter (who was 6 at the time) to see This Is Us. Did a little research to make sure this boy band was appropriate for her and then fell in love with them. We ended up seeing the movie three times, then bought it and watched it at home. She was a Niall girl.

She was my concert buddy for a while. One Direction at the Rose Bowl in 2014 was her first concert.

The weirdest comment you got?

Oh, I get some doozies on Tumblr.

I think one of my favorites was from years ago when I used to do a lot of NSFW fan art. I got an anonymous message from someone claiming to be Harry's lawyer and they were demanding I delete all of my fan art of Harry. HAHAHAHA! Like an attorney would send an anon. Or even ask for something like that. I still laugh when I think about that one.

Harry or Louis?

It's very hard to choose because they're both amazing. I'm a Harry girl from way back. But I obviously love and support Louis, too.

Harry just really inspires me in so many ways. And his music is more my speed.

Your favourite Harry era and your favourite Louis era?

Oh, that's hard. I think Harry's recent era (Harry's House) might be my favorite because he seemed so happy and so self-assured and confident in who he is as a person. He looked fantastic too. Other eras are special to me because of what was going on with the fandom at the time, or because I liked the way he dressed or whatever, but in terms of just enjoying him, I'd have to say this last tour.

Louis is a little more difficult for me because I've had a really hard time with his image over this last tour and his doubling down on babygate. I'm very happy he says he's really happy and proud of his album/tour, but if I had to pick my favorite I feel like he looked the healthiest and most at ease during MITAM promo. Oh, he looked great during his Walls promo, too.

Your favourite movie with H?

My Policeman. It was a bit uneven, but he really blew me away in some of his scenes. He understood that character inside and out.

Your favourite writer(s) in the fandom?

I actually have so many that I like, although many aren’t in our fandom anymore.

It might be easier to link you to a Favorite Authors rec I made a while ago.

What are your absolute favourite fics in the fandom?

I’m going to make it easy on myself again and link you to a Favourite Fics rec.

Is there a fic that is not necessarily your favourite but still always kind of stuck in your head ?

There are fics that aren’t necessarily the most groundbreaking or complex, but something about them makes me keep coming back to re-read. Don't kill me, but... My Favorite Re-Reads.

I wanted to give you a favorite out of that list, but as I scrolled I was like, oh wait, that one! No, that one! So... sorry, you get them all.

What makes you want to stop reading something?

Hm. So many things, honestly.

Writing where people try too hard to be poetic, continuous spelling and grammar mistakes, miscommunication as the only tension, no tension at all, characterizations that make no sense to me, fics that go on and on and on with no attempt at editing, kid fics, etc. I really have very few squicks, but bad writing is hard for me to ignore (I know "bad" is subjective, so I hope no one takes offense at that... just because I don't like it doesn't mean others don't love it).

Your favourite song at the moment?

Chappell Roan is stuck in my head lately. So, I'll say Casual (although Pink Pony Club is a bop).

Your favourite season?

Fall. Absolutely. SO fucking sick of summer.

The most unusual thing that inspired you?

LOL! I'd have to say the Vintage "Sleaze" novel that inspired Hike Up Your Skirt. It was called "Horizontal Secretary".

Who would you most like to read an interview from?

Well, I'm obviously going to say India because I think she's a great writer. But she's also so well-spoken and interesting.

I'd love to read an interview with CelticSky because I loved Danger I Can't Hide so much and I don't know them since they're on Twitter!

Lastly I asked Gina to give every work of hers a colour. Here’s the outcome of that:

Whoever, However -- yellow

Whoever, However is yellow, because when I think about it, I picture the warm, yellow shade of the wood paneling of the room they filmed in.

gathered on wings -- blue

I’m not sure why gathered on wings is blue in my head. Maybe it’s just because that’s the main color of the mood board I made.

An Invincible Summer -- green

An Invincible Summer is green because the rural Georgia setting became one of the characters of the fic. When I think about it, I see the sprawling farm, the rampant kudzu, blueberry fields, lunch under the oak trees… it just feels green to me.

Literally Making Love -- red

Literally Making Love is red because so much of the story is about what it means to be human and even though Harry’s heart isn’t “real” at some point he says to Louis, “Sometimes I feel like you made my heart too small because it doesn’t hold everything I feel for you. I feel it overflowing everywhere.” Or, maybe it’s because it has “Love” in the title. LOL!

Hike Up Your Skirt (And Show Your World To Me) -- purple

I don’t know. The first thought that came to me was purple because I pictured Harry’s character with love bite bruises.

A huge thank you to Gina again. Thank you for being so open and honest while answering my questions. I had the best time talking to you and was so invested in every work of yours.

[blackfliesinbluesugar]

I really don't understand why the show is paced like this, I just don't? Even if they were told at production they would ONLY have 8 episodes, low chance of a s2, that this was all they'd get - I dunno, how is sucking all of the fun and investment out of your plot the best solution outside of, like, writing what you reasonably can and then maybe trying for a comic book or something? Again, I know that's shit feeling, I know it'd suck, I know it'd hurt. But again, even if this is the only medium you WANT to tell your story in, how is telling it BADLY the answer? It's crashing 50k words of fic into a list of bulletpoints.

I don't care about any of these characters. Not because I'm some spurned anti or someone who went in ready to hate - I've fandomed this show since June 2019. I've been obsessed with these characters and world. I have written nearly half a million words of fanfiction for these guys, including all of the background characters they keep giving love like Molly and Mimzy and Rosie. But that's all fanon, and I know how to seperate that in my brain. Which means I love the idea of these characters - I'm thrilled to see even the little cameos, It feels like fanservice in a way that makes me buzz with energy - but I don't love the characters. In canon, I don't care about Alastor, or Husk, or Charlie. I actively feel disinterest in ones like Camille and Vaggie and Adam. They have no depth, only gesturing at interesting ideas and trauma. Angel, I'm STARTING to care about, but they only gave him a real personality AFTER dropping all of his trauma on us. So great. It's discord group chats all over again.

Just.. why. Is doing 3 seasons worth in 1 season really worth it? Is it, frankly, better than nothing at all? I cared more about these guys when I had the privelege of assuming they'd have deep developed arcs and connections, that the hotel denizens would get a chance to bond and interact and flesh themselves out. Now they're pretty png's standing vaguely near each other, occasionally breaking into song or crying about their past. Big whoop.

I wish s1 had developed the hotel solely - no Velvette, no Camille, no Zestial, no Mimzy, no Sera or Emily or Lucifer or Lilith, and then saved that stuff for s2 when we CARE about our protagonists and can afford to care about other characters, instead of all of them being 'cool, I guess'

I'm sad. I'm really sad. I waited over 4 years for a slideshow.

[comicaurora]

Out of curiosity, how far ahead are you on the comic? I mean, you must have it all planned and written out, but I imagine that you are drawing the future of Aurora even while we're reading it.

So is Arc 2 already illustrated and ready for upload while you're on like Arc 5 or something? I'm by no means undermining your need for a break; I'm shocked that you've been uploading continuously for over 4 years at this point. I'm just interested to know how long it takes a person to make something this great. And also if you change any details in the final edit?

Basically: what's the workflow like?

Also I think you low-key inspired me to pick up painting as a hobby. I'm ready to pour so much money into creating things that I know I'll hate. :)

God, arc 5? That's a very generous assessment of how fast I can draw!

Typically, when the comic is updating regularly, I keep a buffer of 10 to 20 completed pages. Right now, in the interest of taking a break, the buffer is 0 completed pages.

Chapter 1 of Arc 2 is completely storyboarded, meaning it's sketched out, the dialog is all mostly finalized barring last-minute rephrasements, etc. It can be read in its current form, it just looks unpretty. In fact, just for fun, here's a sneak peek!

In the next month I'll go through and finalize as many pages from this chapter as possible - which means locking down the panel borders, fleshing out the backgrounds, lining, shading, coloring, polish, etc. - which will be the process of building up a new buffer for when the comic starts back up again in January. During that time, I'll also be storyboarding Chapter 2 and as much of the following parts as I can manage.

I have the next several chapters and sub-arcs planned out in loose timelines - event A happens at location B leading to consequences C and D, stuff like that. Chapter 2, being the closest, is a little more fleshed-out, with a more detailed bullet-pointed timeline and various character ideas I've had that might or might not make it into the final version.

What exactly the chapter breakdown is going to look like is a little more complicated. Initially I'd planned for Chapter 1 to be low-stakes downtime and Chapter 2 to quickly kick off the high-octane adventure again, but when I started bullet-pointing out the stuff I wanted to do in Chapter 2, I ended up with a big pile of slower-paced character moments I thought were well worth exploring, so the runtimes might stretch a little.

Translating those brainstormed notes into storyboards and dialog is what I would classify as the "writing" part of this process. It happens at an erratic pace largely determined by the whims of whatever muse decides to get me in a headlock that day; sometimes I go weeks with no storyboarding progress, sometimes I hammer out fifteen pages in one day.

It's kinda like weaving, to me. The soon-to-be-arriving parts of the story are the most finalized, the most densely woven. A little ways beyond that, things get looser - some patterns may be locked down, but the actual work that'll hold it together hasn't been done yet. And in the far-flung future arcs, it's just the basic bones of the story and a pile of the threads I've planned to use. I know the shape of it, but in order for it to be fun and engaging for me to make it, I need to give myself room to be creative when I'm putting the whole thing together.

I actually have a file called the "Toolbox" that contains every random character or subplot idea I've had, and sometimes when I'm debating where to go with a chunk of story, I'll crack it open and scan through to see if anything jumps out begging to be used. Lotta fun stuff in there that may or may not ever see the light of day. Dropping stuff in the Toolbox is one of the most fun and freeing parts of the process for me!

[p0ssywhippedcream]

Sooooo, I just found this blog and think your writing is just excellent (especially the PJO!Apollo ones)! I would like to make my own request, something sweet and fluffy (maybe smutty?) to counteract the last one.

I'm thinking something like this:

Apollo x daughterofares!reader with wedding/wedding night shenanigans ;) and preparing to spend the rest of eternity together.

IDK. If you want to change/omit something (especially the parentage bit b/c it's admittedly very specific) feel free. You're the one writing after all. Thanks!!!

The feeling is indescribable. Songs, poetry, the gentle weep of a guitar, nothing could ever describe how this feels.

To be close with Apollo like this, having him fully immersed in you. His moans, his toned body, his love. Observing your lover lose himself in your heat is one thing, but to completely lose yourself in him is far more.

The smack of his hips against yours is where his eyes lay, his hands molding the flesh of your thighs as he rests your ankles on his shoulders. You’re full of him, and it’s much more than just sex.

It’s cosmic connection right at your core, you feel it bounce around your blood. The tingling feeling of a god being so intimate with your mortal body causes shudders to run through you. Your toes twitch, torso flexes and your eyes roll back.

“So good, baby…” He’s so loving and doting, always making sure you feel good but there no way you couldn’t. It’s him, he’s where your life starts and ends and with his cock bullying into your wetness, you’re too in love with him to laugh about the irony.

Your hand reaches up to steal his from your legs and hold on to it with all your strength, which is admittedly not much at this point in time. His pupils flicker over to the chunky sunstone that sits on your ring finger and he groans involuntarily. You hadn't taken it off since the day he proposed to you in his chariot and just the sight of it, the evidence that you were his for as long as you lived brought songs of needy cries to his mouth.

He allows himself to be tugged down to your whimpering mouth in a sloppy kiss that's more panting than lip-locking. "'Pollo, I l-love you."

"Sunshine," He's interrupted with your mouth taking his again and as he tugs his head free, you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, "You are the love of my life."

You giggle and choke when his tip kisses your cervix, "And you, the love of my much shorter one."

He grins bright, "We'll have to make you immortal. I'll carry my perfect-" He grabs your ring finger and lays pecks on it between each adjective, eyes locked on yours. "-gorgeous, darling, lovely wife up to the heavens and demand it."

"Zeus won't ever."

"Zeus will if a deadly plague to raze humanity doesn't sound intimidating enough." You laugh and he follows your lead with soft chuckles.

"Apollo on a warpath over a mortal, what an idea." The words struggle out your throat, your mind distracted by the deepness of his strokes.

"Sunshine, you are my world," He makes sure you're looking at him, and continues with love dripping from each word, "Without you, the sun would have no reason to shine. You're the good of humanity, the reason I wake up to cover the world in light in the hopes you enjoy it."

Your heart swells in your chest. The god of poetry really knows how to flatter. Your hands find his smooth, tan face as your eyes well with tears. "You're my goodness, Apollo. You make life worth living. Not just your music, your words or your healing and not even the sun you bring up in the mornings. It's you that's good, just like this."

He's stopped moving now, his shinning eyes trained on yours as the sincerity of your words soaks in. He knows now he'll never get over you. You are his, forever. You have become the parts of him he loves and taken root in both his heart and mind. He kisses you gently and pulls away with a soft, teasing smile contradictory to the genuine vulnerability in his eyes.

"Couldn't have said it better myself."

[writingquestionsanswered]

How do you explore ideas properly? I often see the advice "explore your characters desires, motives, etc." and "dive deeper into the lore of your world" and similar stuff... but how do you actually do it? I take things literally, so I find this particular wording quite difficult to comprehend. Specifically, when I'm trying to develop my story, sometimes an idea will pop up, and I get that "is this the key to fix my plot hole?" feeling, and I run it through my head, and then my brain is just SO QUICK to disprove it. Like, just instantly lost interest? Sometimes it just wasn't the right idea, but recently it's happened every single time, so I'm starting to lose trust i myself.

So, how can I properly explore and idea for my story to find out if it fits or not, before my brain is too quick to judge it for the worse?

Properly Exploring Story Ideas

Without greater context, it's hard to know exactly what that particular bit of advice intended, but from a general writing advice standpoint, I don't think it's meant to be taken too literally.

Generally speaking, "explore" really just means that once you've done the brainstorming and development to flesh it out for yourself, you need to establish and develop that thing for the reader (so, within your story) and bring it to its natural conclusion. In other words, "explore your character's motives" really just means you need to think about what your character's motives are so that you understand them for yourself, then you need to establish and flesh out those motives in your story and illustrate how they lead the character to pursue the particular goal they pursue. "Exploring" really just means "flesh it out for you and the reader."

When you get random ideas while you're plotting and planning, though, I think most of the time it's usually pretty easy to see whether or not it pertains to the story you're trying to flesh out. For example, let's say you're fleshing out a story about a woman who works for a chain bookstore and is trying to solve the mystery of her boss's murder because she wants justice for them, and also to clear a co-worker's name who is the main suspect. As you're fleshing out the murder (who did it and why, how it happened, how it was discovered, how your character got involved) as well as your character's motives (why it's important for her to try to find out what really happened), if you suddenly get an idea that she's a renowned cellist, I think you can probably pretty quickly determine that this isn't an idea worth exploring--either for yourself or in the story--because right away you can see it has nothing to do with a bookstore, your character's job as a supervisor, her boss's job as the manager, the murder (which turns out to be book related), or the killer (who turns out to be the boss's long lost ex who feels like the guy tanked her small book store.) So, this is an idea you can dismiss. But, if you come to a point during the fleshing out or writing of the story where it would make sense for your character to also be a renowned cellist, then you'll remember that idea and be able to plug it in because it's needed.

So, I guess what I'm saying is you actually should trust your gut. Write ideas down as they occur to you so you can come back to them later if need be, but if something doesn't feel right to pursue in the moment, it's almost certainly because your brain understands it doesn't fit into the story you need to tell. If an idea occurs to you that is the magical thing your story needs, it will be absolutely clear to you in that moment.

Happy writing!

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[sulfurousdreamscapes]

How I Hacked My Short Story Brain into Developing a Novel

I promised I'd make this post, so here it is, but with a proper title and everything so that it'll be more generally helpful to other writers.

Regulars of this blog have probably noticed that I've struggled a lot with long-form fiction over the years, despite having churned out a library's worth of short fiction.

This time though, things are coming together, and it's because I've got a technique down that plays to my strengths as a short story writer.

Step 1: Outline and Draft Something

After writing and abandoning several outlines for my WIP Last Night, New Body, I finally set one in stone and wrote a draft for it this January.

The rough, first, skeleton draft was 30,000 words long - far from ideal, but better than nothing. It was tough, but I got it done in two months.

Step 2: Read Through and Take Notes

Next, I read through the draft and took notes on how I thought the novel could be improved. This included notes on plot, characters, and setting. The notes were all taken in a spread sheet in the following format:

Page Number -> Note Title -> Description -> Category

The 'Note Title' could be something witty or referential, but it has to be short, like the name of an achievement in a video game. So for example, it could be:

23 -> Enemy at the Gates -> Why does Nadia shut the door when she sees that Rhea has come to visit? -> Character

I took these notes freely, writing down any point that I thought could be changed, expanded, removed, or otherwise mused.

Once I was done with these notes, the question arose: what the hell do I do with these notes?

Step 3: Treat the Notes As Writing Prompts

This step is in-progress at the moment, but I'm halfway through it already! The idea is to take each note and write 500 words for it.

This comes naturally to me because I've written hundreds upon hundreds of flash fiction pieces for my blog, each one targetted for 500 words. This means I'm now developing the novel 500 words at a time, based on the notes I took while reading through the skeleton draft.

The process has been beautifully productive so far, and I've come up with so much detail, so many new scenes, and better developed characters. My next draft will be assuredly be much longer than the 30k words I got down before.

So how long will this take? That depends on how many notes you take. I initially took 72 notes, but I've found that as the story develops and changes, I've had to "delete" many notes because they became redundant or irrelevant. I say delete in quotes because I've actually moved them to a 'recycle bin' sheet of sorts, so that I can retrieve them later if I deem them important after all.

Next Steps? Outline and Draft the Thing

I'm generating a lot of meat for the skeleton draft, and I'm dying to put that meat on the bones. To do that, I plan on first constructing a very detailed outline, including as much detail from the expanded notes (the 500-word pieces) as possible.

This done, I'll write the 'flesh draft' while referencing both this outline and the skeleton draft. As excited as I am for this, I do anticipate this process to be difficult, so I might find a way to divide it into small, short story sized chunks as well.

Then come the edits and everything else. We'll cross those bridges when we get there.

[kamisama1kiss]

Hey! I know this will sound like, not something you would expect and I understand that, but could you do headcannons about Morro having a daughter?

I honestly was thinking about how he would be as a parent, but you can also do it if he was still hellbent on proving he is the green ninja and dying, leaving his daughter to live with Wu (bc he doesn't have anyone else).

Wu having to raise his (Pseudo?) Grand daughter and the challenges that come with it.

Maybe even Morro just, coming back on the Days of the departed to spend time with his daughter?

Whatever floats your boat tbh

Completely alright if you don't want to! Have a nice Friday 13th! (Or day, if you see this after that friday)

RAHHH I love Morro!! Also, short note sorry for being gone for so long. I've been needing a mental break from everything, but I'm getting better, which means I'll start writing again!! I love you all sm for the support even when I've been gone 🫶

~~~

Morro's daughter {Ninjago Headcanons}

• Before turning into a ghost, he was the sweetest father to his precious little princess, who was his only light in life. (other than the idea of being the green ninja)

° Instead of spending much time together, he often put her to watch him train under Wu's supervision. Having both of their eyes on the younger child to make sure no harm could be inclifted.

• At some point, his focus fell from you, then more to the dream and goal about the green suit that he oh so wished to wear. Which meant the others at the monastery would take turns taking care of you.

° Feeling immense guilt for not spending time the more he mentally fell into a deep hole of self-destruction.

• Still occasionally reading you to sleep and giving small forehead kisses whenever he passed, tucking you in and just standing there feeling like a failure as both a father and to become the green ninja.

° One day was his last crack he ran away to show his worth in being the best version of himself, but sadly was unsuccessful and died in the process.

[After death]

° Cursing himself out every single waking minute for his mistakes of when he was alive, you cried many night after hearing the news and he made sure to watch over you even if no one could see nor feel him there.

• Seeing that the monks and Wu are taking care of you like their own, making he feel at ease. He trusted Wu with his blood and flesh until he could come back around.

° One time a year, morro was able to leave the real of the cursed and would spend the whole day with you when he was finally being seen.

• Spending the day playing little bored games or playing with dolls, having fun nonetheless, which is all he wished and wanted.

° Tucking you into bed that night and leaving a small note about how much he loves you every year and slowly covers the mirror in your bedroom.

• At some point, his daughter was able to understand how this all worked and looked forward to that one day every year. Giving him small artefacts to bring back to the realm where he stayed in the meanwhile.

° Let's be honest. Wu knows that morro is there even if not visible to the human (and non-human) eye.

~~~

Hello everyone, I'm super excited to be back at work!! Hope you all enjoyed reading the headcanons for today 🫶

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Considering the canon kwami’s personalities, the way the full ML story ended up panning out, and the following proposed powers, do you think that having Tikki and Xuppu as Order and Chaos for the yin-yang duo assigned to Marinette and Adrien respectively would’ve been better than having the canon setup of Tikki and Plagg as Creation and Destruction? Why or why not?

I like the Order and Chaos idea! Chaos would be a much better fit for Xuppu's ability and Tikki's personality feels like it could fit Order possibly even more than it fits Creation. I also like how this maintains the contrasting personalities for the Kwamis as I think that's a key element of Plagg and Tikki's dynamic so you'd want something similar if you replaced Plagg.

However, I don't think that Order is a great fit for Marinette because, mask or no mask, her power is creativity. Creation isn't exactly a synonym for Order. They're two very different things. Creation can be - and often is - chaotic! This would mean that Tikki's power set would need to be reworked as Lucky Charm would feel even more out of place than it already does with the whole "Creation isn't Luck" thing. The restoration power could possibly still work for Order, but that power isn't why Marinette is the best ladybug. Anyone can cast the cure and it's only important so the fights have no real consequences like death or property destruction. Lucky Charm is the important part for the actual fights. I'm not even sure what power Order would grant. Feel free to comment or reblog with suggestions!

So, while I like the general idea and even think that Adrien wouldn't be a bad Chaos wilder (he's already pretty chaotic), I don't think that this beats the canon setup from a powers perspective. I also wouldn't replace Plagg with Xuppu because Xuppu doesn't seem like the kind of character people will enjoy in large doses. During the rare moments where he's allowed to have his own personality, he comes across as pretty annoying. Plagg isn't perfect, but he's not going to do this sort of nonsense:

Kim: Awww! A flying monkey plushie! Xuppu: I'm no plushie! My name's Xuppu, you nitwit! (blows a raspberry at him) Kim: My name's not nitwit! My name's Kim! (he and Xuppu make faces at each other while Master Fu watches from afar) Master Fu: I'm wondering if this was the smartest move after all. Xuppu: (while Kim puts on the Monkey Miraculous) Just say showtime already!

I think that a character like this would get real old, real fast! Plagg may dish out insults, but he's a lot more clever about them and does come across as generally caring about Adrien. Xuppu would need similar fleshing out if he was one of the main Kwamis and, at that point, you're basically going to get something similar to Plagg so I'm not sure it's worth the work. Especially since Xuppu's power isn't super well defined and stories where the powers are used all the time tend to be stronger when the audience has an understanding of what the powers can do. It establishes stakes and makes fights make sense. If a fight if just whatever the writers want to write today, that's a lot less engaging.