#and wanting to expand your stuff more and grow

[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. 😊

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

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@livya99 @cherrygirl444

[sturionic]

hey, you said your inbox is open and I was curious if you have any ideas for someone who can't get involved irl in things like protests and local antifa groups (physically disabled and incapacitatingly severe anxiety), and who can't get involved in online activism beyond reblogging stuff (personal reasons, difficult to explain)?

I've been considering trying to put together care packages for local unhoused people, but I'm poor and I'd have to convince someone to help me put everything together so idk how well that will go.

I don't want to sit around doing nothing.

Hey anon! I am very glad you reached out, and this is a question I get asked a lot by people IRL, so you are very much not alone here.

I think the first order of business is expanding your definition of activism. We have been done a great disservice by having activism framed for us as protests, charity, & singular heroes making speeches and changing hearts through celebrity. In reality, the smaller actions in your community have a much greater impact; and most of all, the things you personally have to offer make the greatest impact.

This diagram is specifically geared towards climate action, but really applies to all activism:

For you to be an effective activist/volunteer/community member, it's crucial to find the centre of that diagram, or else you're on a one-way ticket to burnout. Don't get caught up in trying to judge which is the most "important" activism, because that answer will be different for everyone. The most important thing you can do for the world is the thing you can do.

I've done lots of volunteering and volunteer management in multiple fields, and there really is lots of choice out there for things that suit you; anything from sorting files quietly in a back room to using computer knowledge (often VERY absent in community groups lol) to help with maintaining websites & promoting community events. One of my personal favourite volunteer shifts was acting as a helper to the organizers of a queer electronic music festival, running a "build your own synthesizer" workshop. Literally I was just ticking off names on a registration sheet and doing setup and fetching things, but it was one of the coolest things I've had the joy to be involved in.

The other plus here is that activists in a given city all usually have some social overlap. If you email, say, your local community centre, explain your interests & circumstances & skills, and ask what you could do - they might not have anything right that moment, but likely someone there will know a different group that needs something similar, or they'll have ideas for who you could try next. Even if you're not finding a lot online right away, have faith in the (slightly haphazard) offline community org social scene. Same deal if you get involved with something and realize it's not your thing after all - just be honest, and ask for help in finding something more suited to you. It's so, so common, and no one's going to get angry with you for wanting to help in ways you're better suited for.

Don't mistake me when I nudge you towards volunteering - there's a certain way that well-meaning (usually) liberals treat volunteering, like they're 'donating' their time as charity, and I am not advocating for that. I'm just saying that you really don't have to reinvent the wheel. There are structures in place run by people who know well how to do it. Part of the importance is the work itself; the file-sorting, the computer help, whatever. But another part is building connections with the people around you, and also letting those people benefit from the privilege of knowing you. And that will happen naturally over time. The muscle will grow as you use it more, even if you need to start with something that feels to you like it might not be enormously significant in the grand scheme of things. Maybe you move on to 'bigger' things, or maybe you gain new perspective and realize just how significant your contributions are after all.

[asgardian--angels]

Planet's Fucked: What Can You Do To Help? (Long Post)

Since nobody is talking about the existential threat to the climate and the environment a second Trump term/Republican government control will cause, which to me supersedes literally every other issue, I wanted to just say my two cents, and some things you can do to help. I am a conservation biologist, whose field was hit substantially by the first Trump presidency. I study wild bees, birds, and plants.

In case anyone forgot what he did last time, he gagged scientists' ability to talk about climate change, he tried zeroing budgets for agencies like the NOAA, he attempted to gut protections in the Endangered Species Act (mainly by redefining 'take' in a way that would allow corporations to destroy habitat of imperiled species with no ramifications), he tried to do the same for the Migratory Bird Treaty Act (the law that offers official protection for native non-game birds), he sought to expand oil and coal extraction from federal protected lands, he shrunk the size of multiple national preserves, HE PULLED US OUT OF THE PARIS CLIMATE AGREEMENT, and more.

We are at a crucial tipping point in being able to slow the pace of climate change, where we decide what emissions scenario we will operate at, with existential consequences for both the environment and people. We are also in the middle of the Sixth Mass Extinction, with the rate of species extinctions far surpassing background rates due completely to human actions. What we do now will determine the fate of the environment for hundreds or thousands of years - from our ability to grow key food crops (goodbye corn belt! I hated you anyway but), to the pressure on coastal communities that will face the brunt of sea level rise and intensifying extreme weather events, to desertification, ocean acidification, wildfires, melting permafrost (yay, outbreaks of deadly frozen viruses!), and a breaking down of ecosystems and ecosystem services due to continued habitat loss and species declines, especially insect declines. The fact that the environment is clearly a low priority issue despite the very real existential threat to so many people, is beyond my ability to understand. I do partly blame the public education system for offering no mandatory environmental science curriculum or any at all in most places. What it means is that it will take the support of everyone who does care to make any amount of difference in this steeply uphill battle.

There are not enough environmental scientists to solve these issues, not if public support is not on our side and the majority of the general public is either uninformed or actively hostile towards climate science (or any conservation science).

So what can you, my fellow Americans, do to help mitigate and minimize the inevitable damage that lay ahead?

I'm not going to tell you to recycle more or take shorter showers. I'll be honest, that stuff is a drop in the bucket. What does matter on the individual level is restoring and protecting habitat, reducing threats to at-risk species, reducing pesticide use, improving agricultural practices, and pushing for policy changes. Restoring CONNECTIVITY to our landscape - corridors of contiguous habitat - will make all the difference for wildlife to be able to survive a changing climate and continued human population expansion.

**Caveat that I work in the northeast with pollinators and birds so I cannot provide specific organizations for some topics, including climate change focused NGOs. Scientists on tumblr who specialize in other fields, please add your own recommended resources. **

We need two things: FUNDING and MANPOWER.

You may surprised to find that an insane amount of conservation work is carried out by volunteers. We don't ever have the funds to pay most of the people who want to help. If you really really care, consider going into a conservation-related field as a career. It's rewarding, passionate work.

At the national level, please support:

The Nature Conservancy

Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation

Cornell Lab of Ornithology (including eBird)

National Audubon Society

Federal Duck Stamps (you don't need to be a hunter to buy one!)

These first four work to acquire and restore critical habitat, change environmental policy, and educate the public. There is almost certainly a Nature Conservancy-owned property within driving distance of you. Xerces plays a very large role in pollinator conservation, including sustainable agriculture, native bee monitoring programs, and the Bee City/Bee Campus USA programs. The Lab of O is one of the world's leaders in bird research and conservation. Audubon focuses on bird conservation. You can get annual memberships to these organizations and receive cool swag and/or a subscription to their publications which are well worth it. You can also volunteer your time; we need thousands of volunteers to do everything from conducting wildlife surveys, invasive species removal, providing outreach programming, managing habitat/clearing trails, planting trees, you name it. Federal Duck Stamps are the major revenue for wetland conservation; hunters need to buy them to hunt waterfowl but anyone can get them to collect!

THERE ARE DEFINITELY MORE, but these are a start.

Additionally, any federal or local organizations that seek to provide support and relief to those affected by hurricanes, sea level rise, any form of coastal climate change...

At the regional level:

These are a list of topics that affect major regions of the United States. Since I do not work in most of these areas I don't feel confident recommending specific organizations, but please seek resources relating to these as they are likely major conservation issues near you.

PRAIRIE CONSERVATION & PRAIRIE POTHOLE WETLANDS

DRYING OF THE COLORADO RIVER (good overview video linked)

PROTECTION OF ESTUARIES AND SALTMARSH, ESPECIALLY IN THE DELAWARE BAY AND LONG ISLAND (and mangroves further south, everglades etc; this includes restoring LIVING SHORELINES instead of concrete storm walls; also check out the likely-soon extinction of saltmarsh sparrows)

UNDAMMING MAJOR RIVERS (not just the Colorado; restoring salmon runs, restoring historic floodplains)

NATIVE POLLINATOR DECLINES (NOT honeybees. for fuck's sake. honeybees are non-native domesticated animals. don't you DARE get honeybee hives to 'save the bees')

WILDLIFE ALONG THE SOUTHERN BORDER (support the Mission Butterfly Center!)

INVASIVE PLANT AND ANIMAL SPECIES (this is everywhere but the specifics will differ regionally, dear lord please help Hawaii)

LOSS OF WETLANDS NATIONWIDE (some states have lost over 90% of their wetlands, I'm looking at you California, Ohio, Illinois)

INDUSTRIAL AGRICULTURE, esp in the CORN BELT and CALIFORNIA - this is an issue much bigger than each of us, but we can work incrementally to promote sustainable practices and create habitat in farmland-dominated areas. Support small, local farms, especially those that use soil regenerative practices, no-till agriculture, no pesticides/Integrated Pest Management/no neonicotinoids/at least non-persistent pesticides. We need more farmers enrolling in NRCS programs to put farmland in temporary or permanent wetland easements, or to rent the land for a 30-year solar farm cycle. We've lost over 99% of our prairies to corn and soybeans. Let's not make it 100%.

INDIGENOUS LAND-BACK EFFORTS/INDIGENOUS LAND MANAGEMENT/TEK (adding this because there have been increasing efforts not just for reparations but to also allow indigenous communities to steward and manage lands either fully independently or alongside western science, and it would have great benefits for both people and the land; I know others on here could speak much more on this. Please platform indigenous voices)

HARMFUL ALGAL BLOOMS (get your neighbors to stop dumping fertilizers on their lawn next to lakes, reduce agricultural runoff)

OCEAN PLASTIC (it's not straws, it's mostly commercial fishing line/trawling equipment and microplastics)

A lot of these are interconnected. And of course not a complete list.

At the state and local level:

You probably have the most power to make change at the local level!

Support or volunteer at your local nature centers, local/state land conservancy non-profits (find out who owns&manages the preserves you like to hike at!), state fish & game dept/non-game program, local Audubon chapters (they do a LOT). Participate in a Christmas Bird Count!

Join local garden clubs, which install and maintain town plantings - encourage them to use NATIVE plants. Join a community garden!

Get your college campus or city/town certified in the Bee Campus USA/Bee City USA programs from the Xerces Society

Check out your state's official plant nursery, forest society, natural heritage program, anything that you could become a member of, get plants from, or volunteer at.

Volunteer to be part of your town's conservation commission, which makes decisions about land management and funding

Attend classes or volunteer with your land grant university's cooperative extension (including master gardener programs)

Literally any volunteer effort aimed at improving the local environment, whether that's picking up litter, pulling invasive plants, installing a local garden, planting trees in a city park, ANYTHING. make a positive change in your own sphere. learn the local issues affecting your nearby ecosystems. I guarantee some lake or river nearby is polluted

MAKE HABITAT IN YOUR COMMUNITY. Biggest thing you can do. Use plants native to your area in your yard or garden. Ditch your lawn. Don't use pesticides (including mosquito spraying, tick spraying, Roundup, etc). Don't use fertilizers that will run off into drinking water. Leave the leaves in your yard. Get your school/college to plant native gardens. Plant native trees (most trees planted in yards are not native). Remove invasive plants in your yard.

On this last point, HERE ARE EASY ONLINE RESOURCES TO FIND NATIVE PLANTS and LEARN ABOUT NATIVE GARDENING:

Xerces Society Pollinator Conservation Resource Center

Pollinator Pathway

Audubon Native Plant Finder

Homegrown National Park (and Doug Tallamy's other books)

National Wildlife Federation Native Plant Finder (clunky but somewhat helpful)

Heather Holm (for prairie/midwest/northeast)

MonarchGard w/ Benjamin Vogt (for prairie/midwest)

Native Plant Trust (northeast & mid-atlantic)

Grow Native Massachusetts (northeast)

Habitat Gardening in Central New York (northeast)

There are many more - I'm not familiar with resources for western states. Print books are your biggest friend. Happy to provide a list of those.

Lastly, you can help scientists monitor species using citizen science. Contribute to iNaturalist, eBird, Bumblebee Watch, or any number of more geographically or taxonomically targeted programs (for instance, our state has a butterfly census carried out by citizen volunteers).

In short? Get curious, get educated, get involved. Notice your local nature, find out how it's threatened, and find out who's working to protect it that you can help with. The health of the planet, including our resilience to climate change, is determined by small local efforts to maintain and restore habitat. That is how we survive this. When government funding won't come, when we're beat back at every turn trying to get policy changed, it comes down to each individual person creating a safe refuge for nature.

Thanks for reading this far. Please feel free to add your own credible resources and organizations.

[labs]

Communities closed beta is here

Hello again! We’re back with an update on Communities, a big idea we had last year that we’ve been working on steadily since then. We’re abnormally jazzed to announce that we’re beginning a “closed beta” phase of this new feature, which means many of you will get to play with it soon!

We want to build this whole thing together, with as much input from all of you as possible. We’ve read and re-read the feedback from our previous post, and we’ve been surveying and interviewing people about this idea for a few months now. But it’s time to open this up even more for hands-on testing.

We’ve already begun reaching out to most of you who interacted with our previous post, as promised, with a survey asking whether you’d be interested in helping (check your email!). Over the next couple of weeks, we’ll be using the results of that survey to narrow down who we’d like to help test Communities in these initial batches.

The process is looking a bit like this:

If you received a Communities survey email to your registered Tumblr email address, fill it out! If you’re interested in helping us in this beta test period, that’s your way of potentially getting early access. If you did not receive an email with the Communities survey, don’t fret! Communities will be rolling out to more people as we expand our testing. 

We’ll go through the results and choose a diverse range of community ideas to gather a wide array of feedback.

Selected testers will receive a second survey with more detailed questions about their proposed community. Very practical stuff, like the name, title, and description, whether it should be public or private, the About page contents, its own community guidelines, and more.

We will create the new Tumblr community on your behalf using the information supplied. We’re building the tools that will let people create and edit communities themselves, so eventually you’ll be able to change them without needing our help. But for now, we’re creating and editing them for you, as needed.

After we’ve created the community, you’ll be made its first admin. Everything from here on out is up to you – Tumblr staff won’t be in your community (unless you invite us, of course). You’ll be able to invite anyone on Tumblr to your community. However, your community will have a population cap to start, limiting how many people can be in it and invited, as a way of keeping this beta test somewhat contained and manageable for us. We’ll be able to raise that population cap for communities that are growing and if we want to test further in that direction.

And throughout, we’ll be asking for feedback, both in some special communities for everyone in the closed beta, and via more surveys and the Support tickets we receive.

This closed beta version of Communities is far from finished, and that’s part of the reason we want to start opening it up to more of you for feedback. There are a lot of rough edges and known issues, but we think it’s far enough along that it’s usable enough for testing. We need feedback in order to feel like we’re building the right thing.

The very first public community is called “Communities Feedback” for this reason! We want everyone helping us test out communities to tell us about it, so people in this closed beta will be in there by default. We want to use that space to be more public and real-time about new pieces we’re building, bugs we’re fixing, things we know are broken, and answers to common questions. There is an additional, private community for community admins, to help shape how administrating and moderating these spaces will work. And if you don’t want to use those spaces, you can always use the “Feedback” category in our Support form.

Stay tuned for more, and keep an eye on that Communities Feedback space if you’d like to see how things are changing over time.

[streetlamp-amber]

first kicks

batfamily x batmom!reader

word count: 1.9k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: family fluff, pregnancy NOTES: i wanted to write more batfam fluff this time with jason included. very sorry if jason is ooc, most of my knowledge of him comes from fics lol

Rainy Sunday afternoons at Wayne Manor were usually spent with you and your sons in the living room, occupying the big U-shaped sectional sofa. Sometimes Bruce would join you three, resting his feet on the coffee table as he worked on his laptop. Today was one of those days.

You were helping Dick do some research on the internet for a science school project that was due next week while Jason laid on his stomach on the other side of the couch, reading a Where’s Waldo? book by himself. Your husband sat in the other corner of the couch, doing some research on the latest villain terrorising Gotham. You didn’t mind if the work he was doing was for Batman, as long as he spent some time with the family outside of the cave, you were satisfied. Especially since the Wayne clan was about to expand in a little more than four months. Plus, with your belly growing bigger as the weeks went by, it was becoming harder for you to do some tasks around the house. Tasks that you didn’t want to ask Alfred for help with since it was your husband’s job to be at your beck and call through the pregnancy. Bruce obviously didn’t mind and loved helping you, he just sometimes tended to get lost in his Batman work for long periods of time.

The television was playing in the background, a football game between two teams that you didn’t really care about was taking place but you didn’t mind. You couldn’t work well without some sort of background noise and this was doing the job.

”So Dick, have you chosen which natural disaster to base your research project on?” Bruce asked your eldest while closing his laptop and joining him on his other side, making the twelve year old squished between his parents.

”We’ve narrowed it down to three: the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami, the 1906 San Francisco earthquake and Hurricane Katrina,” Dick answered, clicking on different tabs of each of the natural disasters as he named them. “I want to do my research on a popular one so I can easily find all the information I need.”

”Smart, isn’t he?” You smirked at Bruce as you mindlessly threaded your fingers in Dick’s dark hair who continued scrolling on the internet.

“Never thought otherwise,” your husband said, mirroring your grin. “Jay, have you found all the Waldos yet?” He leaned forward to ask Jason.

“I’m almost done,” the six year old easily dismissed Bruce, not even bothering to tear his eyes away from the pages.

“It’s best not to bother him when he’s searching for Waldo,” you informed your husband in a low volume.

Bruce nodded his head in understanding and redirected his attention back on Dick. “So, how are you gonna make your choice, chum? You could write them down on three pieces of paper and do a draw,” he suggested, leaning his arm on the back of the couch behind Dick, his fingers playing with the neck of your tshirt.

“Dad, I don’t need to write it down on some paper,” Dick sighed, a little annoyed. “You can do that on the internet now.”

“You can?” Bruce asked, surprised. Your husband was really tech savvy when it came down to work related to Batman, but silly, random stuff like a drawing roulette was not part of his internet knowledge.

You leaned your head on your left hand that was propped on the back of the couch and soothingly rubbed your round belly with the other. You watched with a soft smile Dick showing Bruce how to generate a random picking wheel to spin on the internet. Moments like these were the ones you cherished the most, domesticity wasn’t always the norm around here when you had two vigilantes living under your roof so you always tried to savour them whenever they happened.

The calmness in you was interrupted when you felt movement under your right hand.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, eyes round like saucers as you looked down at your bump and raised up the hem of your shirt to make sure what you felt was right.

“What?” Bruce immediately turned his attention to you. “What is it? Is something wrong? Are you alright?”

“I think the baby just kicked,”you said, raising your head to meet his eyes.

“The baby just kicked?” He repeated in disbelief.

You shook your head ‘yes’ just as you felt more movement. “The baby kicked again.”

Bruce rapidly stood up to sit by your side while Dick discarded his laptop before placing a hand on your belly and Jason left his book to climb on your husband’s lap to be closer to you. All had a hand on your stomach, staring at it expectantly, waiting for another kick.

“I don’t know if the baby’s gonna kick again,” you told them.

“Well that’s just not fair,” Jason whined.

“We just need to be patient,” Bruce said. “I’m sure the baby will do it again.”

And sure enough he was right. 

“Oh my God! I felt it! I felt the baby kick!” Dick exclaimed, though he kept the volume of his voice to a low level as if he would scare the baby away if he screamed.

“I wanna feel it too!” Jason cried.

“Here Jay, put your hand there,” you told your youngest as you gently grabbed his wrist and moved his hand to a different area of your belly, closer to Dick’s hand.

“Maybe if we keep talking, the baby will kick again,” Dick suggested.

“That’s true, babies can hear us from inside the mother’s belly,” Bruce agreed with him.

“They can?” Jason looked at you quizzically.

You chuckled at his confused face as you brushed his hair away from his forehead. “Yeah they can, it’s not completely soundproof in there,” you answered him.

“That’s why Dad is always talking to your belly?” Dick asked.

You fully laughed at this. “Yes, that’s why Dad talks to the belly. You can too if you wanna.”

“We can?” Dick perked up then leaned closer to your bump. “Hi baby, I’m Dick. Your big brother,” he said.

Jason also leaned forward. “And I’m Jason, I’m also gonna be your big brother.”

“Yeah but I’m the big big brother, I’m the oldest,” Dick argued.

“But I’m gonna be a big brother too!”

“Boys,” Bruce intervened. “No arguing around your mother. The baby will hear enough of that when it joins our lives, let it have its peace while it’s in the womb.”

A series of kicks started at that moment, making Dick and Jason gasp in surprise at the movements they felt under their hands. Bruce turned to you and the two of you shared a look full of love.

“That’s our baby,” he said to you, almost in a whisper, while Dick and Jason continued marvelling at the fact they could feel their sibling.

“That's our baby,” you repeated in confirmation. Nothing could've erased the smiles on both of your lips.

“I love you,” Bruce said against your forehead before leaving a soft kiss there and pulling away to share a short peck on the lips with you.

“Ew! Gross!” Jason interrupted your moment. Your sons weren’t the biggest fans of you and Bruce’s displays of affection for each other.

You giggled at the boys’ antics but still took a second to say “I love you” back to your husband.

“Someone should get Alfred so we can share this moment with him,” you suggested to the kids.

“Not it!”

“Not it!”

Jason and Dick quickly shouted, the former being the fastest to say it.

Dick groaned before he stood up from the couch and jogged out of the living room. The faster he would find Alfred, the faster he would be back next to you. “Alfred! The baby is kicking for the first time!” Dick called through the manor for your butler.

“He knows he doesn’t need to scream, right?” Bruce asked you. “Alfred can hear the boys break something all the way from the other side of the house.”

“Oh, let him be. He’s just very excited about the baby kicking,” you lightly reprimanded him with the corner of your mouth pulling up in a smirk.

You detached your gaze from your husband down to Jason who now had both of his small hands on your belly, his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’ and his eyes round with wonder in them.

“This is so cool,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Looks like you’re gonna have some competition Jay, that baby sure is kicking a lot,” Bruce jokingly commented as the kicking didn’t stop.

You chuckled as you remembered all the times you’d stop by the gym room to find Jason relentlessly kicking at Bruce’s punching bag. For a six year old, he already had so much anger pent up inside his little body and it worried you sometimes. But ever since Bruce brought him back to the Manor, Jay had been getting better. The amount of vases thrown at the wall had drastically decreased since then, both to yours and Alfred’s reliefs, and he instead would run to the gym room and let out his anger on the punching bag when needed.

“I can’t wait to play fight with you,” Jason whispered loudly to your belly with a smile.

“No,” you immediately said.

“Best you stick to play fighting with Dick for a couple more years, buddy,” Bruce told your son.

Jason pouted. “But he's always pulling some acrobatic shit–”

“Language!” You scolded him.

“But Ma! Dad and Dick say it all the time!” Jason cried out defensively. “That’s not fair,” he retracted his hands from your belly to cross his arms over his chest.

“Well Dad and Dick, and you too apparently, will not be saying words like that around the baby,” you warned. “Capiche?”

“Capiche,” Jason mumbled.

“Capiche?” You repeated, now glaring at your husband.

“Hey, I’ve really been refraining on the bad words ever since Dick joined us,” Bruce argued but you raised your eyebrows in a way that said this wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “Capiche,” Bruce sighed out, knowing he wasn't going to win this fight.

“Master Dick, slow down a little. There’s no need for running,” you heard Alfred’s voice approaching down the hall.

“But Alfred, the baby is kicking!” Dick reiterated.

Your oldest ran in the living room, his hand firmly holding Alfred’s who tried to keep up behind him.

“I heard you the first ten times, Master Dick, the baby will still be there no matter how fast we get there,” Alfred argued.

“Yeah but it might stop kicking,” Dick said and the two sat on the couch to your unoccupied left.

“Don’t worry chum, the baby’s still kicking,” Bruce told him while looking fondly at your belly.

“Please Alfred, feel the baby,” you said to your butler with an inviting smile, grabbing his hand that rested on his knee and gently squeezing it. “We want you to be part of this moment too.”

Alfred’s hand joined the others on your bump and the old man smiled at you and Bruce as he felt the tiny bumps moving around under your skin. “This is sensational.”

“Isn’t it?” You smiled back at him, content to have everyone you wanted to share your baby’s first kicks with.

Your little family of five (soon-to-be six) remained on the couch until the baby grew tired and stopped kicking, much to Dick and Jason’s dismay. Alfred went back to his tasks, the boys to their laptop and book, and Bruce wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you cuddled next to him, watching over your children and just enjoying the normalcy of this Sunday afternoon.

Domesticity used to be rare at the Wayne Manor, but not anymore. And you, for one, were very happy about it.

[lilacstro]

Astro Observations pt 2

1.If you have sun conjunct ascendant//sun in 10th house, people might really see who you really are or your real personality maybe visible to people you choose to interact with.

2. People who's sun and mercury match, they more than most of the time, say what they really mean

3. People who have Sag sun/stellium usually have a strong liking for some kind of mainstream media, like kpop? football? bollywood?

4. The sign of your fifth house can influence how you like spending your leisure time. Example:

Capricorn 5th house might like cleaning as a form of relaxing or spending their free time

Leo 5th house might want entertainment or hanging out with a group of friends, social circles

Gemini 5th house might like scrolling the internet or talking about their favourite shows and dramas

Pisces 5th house might like day dreaming or doodling or creative working

Libra 5th house might put make up on just because, or doing a whole self care routine

Taurus 5th house might just lay in bed and sleep? lol maybe cook something or play some instrument if they please.

5. Jupiter is said to expand. People who may have sun conjunct Jupiter may have huge sense of self or awareness of identity, which is really good in a world where people try to tell you who you are. However, this needs to be checked so it does not turn into a huge ego

6. Sagittarius women could really like dancing

7. 8th house stellium could deal with sleep paralysis or insomnia or some kind of mental health related problem at some point in their life for sure

8. 12th house stelliums could really like day dreaming a lot

9. Most Libra people I have met are usually already well liked regardless of anything. and the ones that aren't, really care about being liked by people.

10. Speaking of this, most libra placements, esp suns, may really be gossiped about or do gossips.

11. Sagittarius placements (sun and rising esp) always have something going on with their teeth. Its either crooked, it may have had an injury and even if its perfect, they might be a little insecure about it at least for a brief period in their life

12. Neptune in 7th house could mean the native has kind of like imaginary ideals about their partner. It could also be that they "like the idea of someone more than the person" or straight up like imaginary characters as ideals

13. Sag mercury women usually are very vocal. May advocate for things like unequal rights, feminism, maybe the first one to speak. tbh sag mercuries overall are the types to take part in global challenges and really take time out to think about it seriously.

14. Sun in 8th house is a mysterious placement. Sun in 8th house won't reveal themselves to you. To be fairly honest, growing up their personality goes through a lot of transformation before they finally get to even know themselves and who they are. They could also be very introspective if not self aware

15. while Moon in 8th house natives are usually said that they won't reveal their true emotions, I'd say that's subjective since they are actually "aware" of their feelings on a deep level. This depends on the sign and degree of the moon imo. However, they may instead absolutely illusion you into thinking "you know everything about them" lol. Also, they could eventually get very emotionally intelligent in their lives with time. They may also never fully reveal their past to someone.

16. Moon in 8th house can have two moods. I know this will happen. See this happened. OR I know EXACTLY why this did not happen lol. Very intuitive.

17. Moon in Gemini degrees can indicate being able to verbalize and intellectualize emotions better than most people. While Moon in Aquarius or Capricorn may suggest otherwise.

18. Idk how but most Aquarius people I have seen have either of these two things. Being extremely different than most people (in a good or bad way) in some way or the other, a different thinking than most. OR, being really really good with Internet related stuff, like maybe freelance? Digital Media? Social Media?

19. Venus/Sun/Moon in virgos will get you the small thing you mentioned in a random seemingly unimportant conversation for your birthday gift.

20. A placement that makes me think of "attractive personality" is Venus in harmonious aspects with mercury.

21. Mars in 5th house/1st house are said to be automatically physically active or athletic. While this maybe true, mars or any other planet at a weak degree or Mars in Earth signs may not manifest that way, even though it may seem otherwise.

22. I think mercury in 11th house is an OG placement for over thinkers or the people who are thinking how would it feel to get married while riding the car/train and looking outside, or being constantly in their head the second they woke up.

23. " I am so stupid in love"- Pisces, Cancer placements.

24. Neptune in 3rd/11th house placements could have a social media or chronically online addiction.

25. Sun in 1st house in SR can indicate getting a sense of identity and purpose and moreover finding yourself again

26. Uranus in 12th house in SR can indicate a change/transformation in old belief systems and thoughts

support me on ko-fi :)

Well, I am thinking of making proper dedicated posts now instead of random notes like that. What suggestions do you have? I would loveee to know.

[tinydefector]

I was just interested if you were a suckered for the clothing and fabric and perfume trope as I am. In the sense where fabrics and a abundance of organic flora was considered more common for higher class cybertronains but that even then it was pretty scarce. Imagine a bot or con after getting over their fears or mild disgust of the squishness of humans so to speak the next few things they notice is how many types of hair there are. How many styles and how many different ways to dye said hair. It drives them nuts the feel such softer fibers all together to make a more denser form. Curled,staight,wavy it all catches their optics. Painted nails almost similar to paint for their frames. Tattoos so intriguing. A human willingly damaging their surface that is more fragile than their metallic frames. It's a living scar. And they can't help but slowly come to love it to when they see how much their human complain does. But fabric? God they almost get drunk off of it. When they get a hug they shiver at the smooth article that brushes on their frame. The variety. So many styles and colors. So many meaning behind patterns and techniques. They can't help but almost grow jealous hearing how far back a simple stich can come from in human history. Humanity dressing itself in plush silks and flimsy polyester but it's all gold compared to what the cybertronains have come to crave. Imagine them having made themselves smaller so they could be inside your living space and they can't help but notice all the fabrics. All the plush surfaces. Their in heaven fully convinced they're going to meet the great primes. And if you had a scented burning candle? Sweet or citrus they can't help but want to inhale deeply to capture the scent. Perfumes? God their drunk whenever a human walks into a enclosed space because all mechs and femmes are fighting themselves to not snatch you up and keep you. If you use scented body wash or scented lotion then can practically taste it on your skin if you are near or hug them. They crave it when it's late at night and they've got you sobbing and thighs shaking as they kiss and lap at your scented thighs. And if theirs multiple humans in a space? That almost has a bot slurring their words as iff they just had the best energon. Just some thoughts haha I'm very sorry it's so long. I'm just a suckered for all these headcanons and just how while they may be disgusted and have hatred for humanity some fo them can't help but swoon for so many qualitys of their human companions that are nothing like their skin. So soft and complaint and so very warm at heart.

So I do have some fics on this stuff one is

Ratchet x reader. Involving perfumes effecting cybertronians like a sex potion or sex pollen.

Then I have

Starscream x reader. Involving the infamous dress and him testing out different outfits on his partner.

This small collection of bots reacting to nipple piercings (was like my first fic I ever wrote here)

_________________

I am quite a sucker for the clothing and fabric and perfume trope. I really enjoy writing cybertronians who adore seeing their partner drapped in shimmering fabrics. Becuase to the human its could just be a satin sheet, but to the cybertronian it is luxury, it showcases so much about you and every chance they get they love getting to just feel or touch the fabrics.

Imagine: your cybertronian is sat on theirs berth which is a mix of almost foam matting(yoga mat/ expanding foam) They don't lay on just metal but it's not particularly comfortable for their human. So one day, they introduced them to memory foam, and its like the bots world has opened up. It becomes a soft, comfortable recharge. But as you start bringing sheets, blankets, and your pillows, it makes the bots feel as if they are falling in love. They love it when you drape the soft fabric over them and make yourself almost a next on their chassis with the soft bedding. To they it feels like a luxury that you are pampering them even if it's just to make yourself more comfortable. It's the fact you leave them in their suite on their berth take makes their spark clench in delight knowing you'll be coming back.

I also tend to write cybertronains have alot more nasal sensors and detectors to the point they can break down the partials to annalise them. The smell of fresh lining is something that effects them almost like catnip with a cat. They will roll around in the fabric optics wide. Engines roaring in delight. As their joints squeak and clank against the walls.

I also love writing that Fabric was something that only the Highest of society had on cybertron, but mainly due to have small the fibers are it is extremely hard for cybertronains to replicate the material, so it fetched for high prices when Imported from organic planets. If you were of the lower classes, you would be lucky if you had a tarp or some sort of soft plastic as it was also still very sort after. So you can imagine how the cybertronains reacted once on earth, even while undercover. Fabric is such a huge part of human culture that cybertronians, when they find even just a pretty scrap of Fabric, keep it as a token. As if to say "frag you" to the universe.

But I can also see a human finding the stash of Fabric cut off's and offering to sew them all together in an almost patchwork like blanket for their bot and you can bet your ass you will have that cybertronian on thier knees worshipping you for it.

______

"Hey, we have hail forecasted," their voice calls out to the vehicle parked in the driveway. The cybertronian is rather quiet as they register what was said to them. "It isn't acid rain, so it won't be anything too bad." they try to argue only to have a large old blanket thrown over them. "Hey, what are you doing?" It sends shock throught their system having something so soft drapped over their frame.

"I'm covering you up so you don't get hail damage, I sadly can't get you into the garage at the moment so the next best thing I can do is cover you up with some blankets and a tarp so you don't get damaged by ice falling out of the sky" they explain as they throw another over the vehicle. Making sure to fully cover the bot before throwing a waterproof tarp over them, too. "Sorry, I don't have anything better than this, but it will keep you dry and our of harm's way." Those words hit their spark in a way they never would have thought it would. They are left almost speechless, cosy, and somewhat warm as the hailstorm rolls in.

________________

When it comes to hair colour, skin colour, and tattoos. It fascinates them so much to see such diversity and colour on a species they originally believed to be quite dull. It gets to the point when making their holoform avatars they love exploring and expressing themselves as if making a sims character. Even going as far as some get custom paint jobs of the tattoos, they get on their avatars because, for them, it's the closest thing they can have to tattoos. But think about you getting a tattoo in a shop right across from where your cybertronian partner is getting their paint job because it was a cute couples day out.

And don't get me started on how much cybertronians love human's hair. The fibers are so different to them and they love the feeling of it, they just have to be very careful when running a digit theought thier lovers hair as to not get it jammed in the joints causing you pain.

Another thing that cybertronians are fascinated by is humans' willingness to injure themselves in the name of beauty. From tattoos, piercings, injections, and surgery. In honesty, it's not that different from frame ulteration, but they don't know how a human can do it. The bots can turn their pain sensors off while humans are just soldier on through it.

I love the idea that the bots also horde car freshners that their humans get them. It becomes a full-on pokemon card situation of them trading double ups, begging their partner to get them others so they can rub it in their friends' faces. But air freshners weren't a thing until Earth, and the bots love how it makes their frame smell different from the oil, grease, and car smell.

But perfumes gods I love the idea that perfumes have a certain chemical reaction to Cybertronian systems to the point to turns them into a raging horny bot who can't get enough of how your skin taste and how desperately they try to literally lick the perfume off your skin as if it were the riches and most expensive high grade energex on the market. It also leads to a lot of personal working with the bots not being allowed to wear perfume/cologne. Deodorants don't affect them the same way, but they also enjoy how they smell quite a bit.

But yes I love the idea of perfumes pretty much working like a pheromone spray and don't get me started on actual pheromones spray, your not leaving that bots berth for atleast 3 days, they will bring you food, water and anything you want but it literally overrides their system protocol and makes them desperate to breed you.

In conclusion, DO NOT wear perfume or Pheromone spray near the bots unless you don't intend to be leaving the berth for at least 3 days if not more becyase they can and will keep you their.

________________

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[sweetimpurity]

Sometimes I have ideas for fics but not enough will-power to write the whole thing out all the way. This is one condensed haha ⬇️

not proofread 🥴

Earth-928

You're out to dinner with your bf Miguel. It's been such a nice night and you've been together so long. You think tonight is the night. He's gonna propose. His job as Spiderman does take him away from you a lot of the time. You tend to spend a lot of time missing him. Wishing he'd make more time for you. Make you his priority. That's the only doubt you'd have when it comes to spending your life with the man but other than that, you know you want it.

He took you for a walk on the beach, then to your favorite restaurant to end the night. You've just ordered your food when his comm watch get's a notification. A red alert emergency. Green Goblin in downtown Manhattan tearing up half a city block and blowing things up. Scaring civilians, injuring many.

"Babe... I'm so sorry... I think I have to go." He says, a growing sense of dread washing over him. And then he looks up to see that look of disappointment in your eyes. The heartbreak.

"You... are you sure, really?" Your voice breaks his heart. He sighs, looking down at the alerts coming in from Lyla. One after the other.

"I'm so sorry... I promise I'll be back as soon as I can..." He says, getting up from the table and kneeling in front of you, taking your hands into his. It breaks your heart even more watching him do that. Seeing him kneel. Except he's not proposing, he's leaving.

"You'll be my number one babe... when I get back I promise..." He says. But the words just make you feel so empty. "I promise... I love you. Wait up for me." He says, letting your hands go and stepping back. Sending an alert to Lyla that he's on the case and he's coming. "I love you babe..." He says again, stepping back and watching you. Wanting to hear you say it back. But you don't. You just watch him go. Heartbroken. Feeling so small, so unimportant. Unwanted.

He eventually has to just let it go and turn to leave. Passing by some people in the restaurant and leaving the restaurant. Trying his best to just keep going. To get this done and then he can be with you. But this has become a pattern as of late.

He gets outside the restaurant, getting to an alleyway and scaling the building, climbing to the top and pressing on the pod to make his suit expand and cover his body. Nanotech glowing up to his jawline and eventually closing over his face in fire red and dark blue.

He swings off to tend to the issue. To stop whatever's going on. Save the city. Again.

You wait for him for an hour. Sitting there like an idiot. Like a fool. Before deciding you deserve better than this. You ask the waiter to pack up the food and pay the bill. Three years you've been with this man. And this sort of thing just happens?

You grab your stuff, getting up to leave. Figuring you'll just go home and eat that ice cream in the freezer. Maybe call your mom or your best friend and get some reassurance or cry. Passing by people leaving the restaurant, you leave the building, walking down the sidewalk a few yards before-

"Baby!" He calls. The familiar sounds of a portal opening accompanying his voice. You look over and there's Miguel walking up to you from the alleyway next to the restaurant. Oh. You think. Here he is? "Hey-"

"You have to come with me. Right now baby. The anomaly, it's worse than we thought. We have to go, this dimension is gonna go!" He explains frantically, his voice slightly muffled by the mask you recognize so well on his face. He comes over, instantly taking both of your hands in his. The cool feeling of his suit on your warm skin. Really? You have to leave now? He said this sort of thing could happen at some point. But the chance was rare because he's always do everything he could before letting the dimension collapse. He's been gone for an hour and now the dimension is suddenly collapsing?

But if he says so, then you'd trust him. "Come on baby. We'll be safe you just have to come with me." He starts walking backwards towards the portal, holding onto your hands. It's not your first time going through a portal with him. It's a weird sort of tingly feeling.

"Okay okay" You nod, shocked by this sudden turn of events; walking with him and looking back on the world you know. The dimension you've lived in all your life. The place you've both shared a life in too. But if he'll be with you then everything should be fine.

He leads you through the portal, his big hand on the small of your back as he helps you through to the other side. The portal closing with a flash of glitching light. The alleyway falls silent. Not a sound.

An hour passes. The restaurant closes, everyone goes home. Your boyfriend swings back to the restaurant. Feeling like such a dick for leaving you like that. Leaving you when he too knew that this was supposed to be a special night. He gets to the restaurant. Finding it closed. "Damn it." He sighs. Pacing back and forth. "Lyla, is y/n back at the apartment?" He says. Walking down the sidewalk a bit.

"I can't track her phone right now. She either lost signal or turned the tracker off herself." She says.

"Damn it." He huffs again. Sighing and staring out at the street. His brow furrowing at what's before him. It's the car. His car. The one you both took to the restaurant tonight. Why is it still here if you're not?

"Lyla. What was her last recorded location?" He asks, staring at the car parked on the street. His mind flooded with possibilities. "Right here. Literally right where you're standing." She says, looking over the data.

He looks around. This doesn't make sense. "Track her again." He says.

"I can't-"

"Try again! Try something else! Street cameras! Surveillance footage! Something!" He yells in frustration and anger. Scowling and look around. Lyla sighs, pulling up the footage from the cameras on this street after hacking into their systems. Scrubbing through the footage.

"Let me see." He demands, looking at the holographic screen as Lyla displays it. There you are, leaving the restaurant. He winces, watching you leaving the place in defeat. Knowing this is his fault. But then he watches you stop, looking down the alleyway next to the restaurant. A flash of glitching light and then it looks like you're talking to someone.

You're definitely talking to someone. He check the time on the footage. It was about an hour ago. An hour ago you started talking to someone in the alley and then-

"What is she doing?" He mumbles, eyes widening when he sees you join hands with someone. The person that's taking up all your attention. "Zoom in Lyla." He demands.

The footage isn't super clear, it never is on these cheap street cameras. But he can see it. When the figure turns around, leading you down the alleyway. It's him. Himself? He can see the red and blue marking of his own suit. He's watching a video of himself leading you down an alleyway into what he can only assume is a portal. A portal to lord knows where. With a version of himself that's pretending to be the one you know.

[rebelfell]

I could tell you this is *really* it, but you’d never believe me… 18+, MDNI 1.7k

older!fem!Harrington!reader x eddie munson

cw: pregnancy/fertility discussions

continued from here, index here

“Did you want one?”

Eddie’s voice barely manages to break through the fog your mind had slipped into.

Tangled up with him in the softness of your sheets, cast in the scarlet glow of your scarf-covered lamp, body shiny with a sheen of sweat and your legs still trembling with the effects of the last few hours, it was a miracle your floaty, dopamine-addled brain had even heard.

“Huh?” you asked, lifting your head the full two inches you were able.

He lifts himself from his place between your thighs, where he’s been the last…twenty minutes? Thirty? It’s hard to say. Time has a tendency to stretch and expand when he’s in this mood. 

When all he wants to do is live down there—not even actively trying to get you off, just letting his tongue glide through your folds and play with your clit. Unhurried and engrossed.

Like he has all the time in the world.

Because at last he does.

It was hardly an ideal time to ask, Eddie knew that. But he hadn’t been able to get the question out of his head since earlier that afternoon. Even now, when he was smack dab in his version of heaven, he couldn’t put off the question he’d been wanting to ask any longer.

So he didn’t.

“Did you want one?” he asks again. And then, when your brow furrowed and your head started to shake in confusion, he adds, “A baby.”

“A…baby?” You repeat it slowly, pushing up on your elbows to look at him.

The doe eyes come out in full force as he looks up at you and nods. Round and open and so, so vulnerable it made your chest ache. Even with all the efforts he’d put into making himself look older—the glasses he’d been wearing more and more often, the beard that he was letting grow in—those eyes always gave it away that deep down he was still that scared, eager little twenty-something puppy come to life.

“Why?” you snicker. “You got a friend who can get one wholesale?”

“No,” he snickers back, smoothing his hand over your stomach. A little higher than where a baby would go, but you don’t tell him that. “I was just wondering if you, you know…wanted one.”

“Eddie, I…” You trail off, not quite sure how to answer. Because you’re slowly but surely starting to realize he’s not joking. With a hard swallow, you ask, “Is this about what you found?”

He doesn’t need to nod for you to know it is.

In the midst of clearing out the closet, making room for him to start bringing his stuff over and slowly move in with you over the last few months of his lease, he’d unearthed something.

It was just a shoe box, something that would typically be totally inconsequential. Something you’d stowed on the top shelf in the far corner the first night you spent in this house. Something that only came out for short intervals during particularly heart wrenching bouts of nostalgia.

You hadn’t labeled or decorated it. Hadn’t put anything on it to indicate just how precious its contents were. Nothing more than a tiny “E” in ballpoint ink on the bottom corner of the lid. 

Small enough to miss easily. But Eddie didn’t.

Inside, he found all his notes from that summer folded back up into triangles. A bottle cap from his favorite beer. A guitar pick he’d left out on the patio table one night you’d sat outside looking at the stars while he strummed “Going to California” on his acoustic. He’d had it stuck in his head for days, ever since you told him how Robert Plant and Jimmy Page wrote it for Joni Mitchell.

All the things you felt compelled to keep without fully understanding why.

Near the top were the more recent additions—the blood-stained rag you’d used to bind his hand the day he helped you move. Then the postcard from Berlin Steve sent you that mentioned his name. The envelope with the foreign postage he’d sent your bear in, a copy of Corroded Coffin’s CD.

And the outer packaging of a pregnancy test.

You hadn’t kept the stick itself. That had struck you as a bit too gross. But the box had lain in your wastebasket for weeks, staring at you from atop a pillow of used tissues and make-up wipes and q-tips and emptied toilet paper rolls. And when it finally came time to empty the basket, you found you couldn’t quite bring yourself to tie off the bag with it still sitting inside. 

So into the shoebox it went.

And when you came back up from downstairs, concerned by the sudden lack of thumping that had been near-constant all day, you found him sitting silently on the bed holding it in his hands.

You assured him it had been a false alarm. That the test was negative and that you promptly got your period just a few days after. That you opted not to tell him because you didn’t want him to worry, as you knew he would. That you knew he would have come running without a second thought. And as much as you wished he was there, you didn’t want to do that to him.

And he could understand all that. He really could.

But it doesn’t make him feel any less guilty that he wasn’t here. That he didn’t have a clue it was happening. And it doesn’t make him wonder any less what might have happened if the result had been different. Would you have told him then? Would you have wanted to keep it? Would you have asked his opinion, even knowing he would support whatever decision you made?

You could see his head was swimming with all these questions, getting lost in the whirlpool of them, and grabbed his face with your hands to pull his eyes to yours. 

Stop it, you told him solidly. You don’t need to feel bad about decisions we never had to make.

And you were right. He knew you were right. He didn’t need to worry about doing the right thing, because he could see it in your eyes that you knew he would have no matter what.

So the package went back in the box and the box went back in the closet. And you spent the rest of the day packing and sorting things into piles—toss, donate, storage—until half (okay, a little less than half) of the closet and drawer space was empty and ready for him.

You figured that was that. He didn’t mention it again or act remotely different as you sorted and talked and cleaned. Or when you finally showered and washed the layers of grime and sweat from your bodies only to crawl into the haven of your bed and fall into that easy and tempered, sort of languid lovemaking you both found you liked just as much as the urgent, desperate, carnivorous, animalistic kind of fucking you were prone to.

It wasn’t until he stopped to ask his question that you realized he was still thinking about it.

“Come up here,” you tell him, tugging loosely on a lock of hair by his ear.

And he does.

He slides up to lay beside you, head nestled in the crook of your neck, his breath fanning across your chest as he nuzzles his face against your chin.

You let your nails skim his back, trying to trace the shapes of tattoos you can’t see but know are there. The broadsword on his spine, the barbed vines that wrapped around his bicep, the D20 above his elbow and the bats beneath it.

“Do you want one?” you ask him after a long moment. Muted and wary.

He doesn’t respond right away, taking a beat to chew on his response. And you feel certain he can hear your heartbeat jump to an uneasy rhythm as you wait for his answer. Because what if he does? What if this is it? The moment you come to a real reason this can’t work—that he has dreamt his whole life of a family only to wind up with the person who can’t give him one?

“Honestly, I don’t know…but I’d love to give you one,” he answers solidly, “if that’s what you want. And I’d love there to be more of you in the world.”

“Ed,” you sigh, “I don’t even know if I can get—”

“What if we tried?” he asks, going on before you can dissuade it. “We don’t have to tell anyone we are, we can just…see if it happens. If it does, it does. And if it doesn’t, then…”

“Then what?” you ask quietly.

He shrugs, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Then I’d still have you.”

He rolls onto his elbow and looks up to see the tears just starting to burgeon in your eyes. His hand comes up to brush your temple, following the curve of your jaw that is clenched in thought. The touch of his hand seemingly melts all the tension there, almost like magic, and you feel yourself similarly melting—looking back at this man who loves you so deeply and definitively.

Because you would love nothing more than for there to be more of him in the world.

“So, when are we gonna start…seeing,” you asked with a shy smile. “Right now?”

Eddie’s eyes widened, the corners of his mouth twitching he was trying so hard not to break out in a stupid-big, beaming smile.

“Maybe not just yet,” he said, the mirth in his voice shining through.

“No?” you ask, your brows lifting in surprise. “How long are we waiting, then?”

“Well, that all depends…” He ducked back down and returned to nuzzling your neck, lowering his voice to a husky murmur in your ear. “...on when you wanna get married.”

You let out breathy chuckles in between the quick, zealous kisses he began to drop on your skin, the ends of his hair tickling as they brushed the side of your face and fell across your chest.

“Ohh,” you laughed, reaching to lace your fingers with his. “Are you gonna marry me, then?”

Eddie pulled back once more and grinned down at you, the skin around his eyes crinkling his smile was so wide, his expression alight and filled with the purest form of mischief.

“Baby, I thought you’d never ask.”

prev┃

Standin’ on a hill in the mountain of dreams, tellin’ myself it’s not as hard, hard, hard as it seems…

[2-dsimp]

I remember hearing from bird owners on the internet never to pet a bird's wings and back due to it arousing the bird, so many bird owners say to just pet their heads.

So, if someone where to "accidentally" brush past a certain Harpy's wings and lower back, or to playfully mess with the feathers a bit, how would said harpy react?

Love to mess with others and want to rile up Lynx a bit heh

Cw: Fem! Reader, NSFW🔞 creampie, knotting, praise, Lynx being a horny birb, overestimation, cum inflation, breeding, exhibition, use of public toilet stall, possessive/obsessive tendencies. Slight degradation.

Synopsis: You decided it would be a good idea to figuratively and literally ruffle the harpy’s feathers and you ended up getting more of a reaction than you bargained for.

☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆☆*:.｡. .｡.:

"My muse~ you know how I can’t bear to resist you on a daily basis.”

The harpy scolded, his voice low and husky with desire. Using his clawed hands to cover your lips in order for your explicit sounds not to escape the bathroom stall y’all were currently boxed inside of.

“So Why would you do that when I was just about to be handed my Grammy?"

The singer could feel himself getting closer, his own pleasure building up inside of him as he continued to pound into you relentlessly. He struggled to hold on, gritting his teeth as he tried to savor the five minutes. That he so desperately asked for, just to momentarily hold off on accepting his trophy for having the best selling album.

Using the excuse that he needed to use the bathroom to get rid of his cold feet. When in reality the moment you ruffled his sensitive feathers. Lynx damned near almost snatched you up and fucked you on stage. But thinking about his managers pleas on not causing havoc. The birdman instead hustled you into the nearest bathroom stall.

“You must’ve done this on purpose. Did you really want me to give you my knot that badly baby?"

He panted, relishing in the harsh wet smacks of his balls against your plump ass. His long lashes fluttered shut as he humped you frantically knowing that time was running out. Twitching sporadically as his fleshy pointed cock. Kept spurting out copious amounts of clear precum which continually fattened you up.

"Fuck! You’re sucha bad girl, getting me all worked up. I can feel your juices splashing on my knot, such a dirty chicky you are~”

The Harpy no doubt felt his impending orgasm threatening to burst from his leaking dick. like a pressurized dam, his family jewels throbbing to unload his hot jizz inside of you. As he felt you squirting on his meaty rod that was hitting all your weak spots.

"Imma stuff you up with so much cum, that your gonna leave a snail trail wherever you go. That way people will know that you’re taken."

Lynx trilled melodically, his tail feathers swishing as his plumaged fluffed up from the sensation of your cunt clenched down on his length that was bullying its way against your womb.

“You’d like that right? My pretty mate? Of course you would!”

He nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck biting and licking at the sweat dripping from your skin. Not even taking not of how you were crying fat tears of overstimulation from being stuffed to the brim with his growing knot lodged inside your clammy walls. His shaft still fucking itself into your weeping quim as he prepared to let go. Since it was almost time for him to get back stage and accept his reward ceremony.

“Don’t worry I’ll take care of you more later on, so for now just open up that cute womb of yours so I can flood it with my hatchlings yeah?”

With a bodily shudder racking through him he pressed his body flush against you. His wings hugging you within a protective cocoon. Whilst he released his hot harpy sperm deep inside of you, filling you up completely with his seed. He let out a breathy, guttural keen of exhilaration as he continued to ride his high inside of you, his knot still expanding in depth within your pussy as he proceeded to ground himself empty completely inside of you.

"Mmm, you feel s-so good, my muse… You think I can squeeze in one more load inside of your pretty pussy?"

Lynx drawled out , his voice scratchy and needy as he slowed down his movements. The Harpy stayed inside of you, his cock still twitching as he enjoyed the feeling of being buried deep inside of you. From hearing your small moans in response his penis already returned to half mast eager to fuck another batch of his baby batter inside you.

[princesssisi]

Initial sketch of an AU for MAWS - “the Monster of Smallville case”

- southern / gothic horror, loads of churches, religious themes, cornfields, quiet atmosphere, small town vibe, abandoned gas station looking sth

- set in the American Satanic Panic

- Clark accidentally spawns a SCP style urban legend by setting off his powers at night -> monster of Smallville / Man with red eyes … any other spooky name

- the town is sent into a frenzy, people are very paranoid, the community becomes Uber religious and Clark is feeling pretty lonely and isolated <- they see him as the weirdo loner on a farm toward the edge of the city (presuming Ma and Pa have passed away early in age and he stayed on the farm and never pursued journalism, or maybe just at the Smallville gazette)

- Lois gets a whiff of this from the big city

- she’s a famous paranormal investigator / monster hunter / will clean up your cursed house - type of woman

- I actually inspired her outfit by Lorraine Warren from the Conjouring movies

- she comes to Smallville and stays at a motel there, interviewing the people. She eventually runs into Clark, who’s reserved and doesn’t tell her much - mostly says he doesn’t believe in paranormal stuff

- they slowly grow a odd friendship as she stays in the town investigating this whole Man with red eyes thing

- Clark slowly goes more and more into hiding … Will he be found out?

That’s the initial idea - worth expanding on? I wanna draw a full redesign eventually, I mainly wanted to simply document my first idea before I forget.

[grimm-writings]

Can I request something (I leave the format up to you) for Chilchuck x reader where the reader genuinely asks Chilchuck for his opinions and thoughts on things? (dungeon related things, union stuff, that sort of thing) Since he mentioned how he would like to be taken serious/respected like Senshi.

Basically reader respects Chilchuck and might have developed a little crush on him as well but doesn't want to make him uncomfortable by being unprofessional so they don't act on it. Maybe it's mutual.

Chilchuck is skilled as fuck and it would be nice if he got some well deserved genuine praise and appreciation for it.

mutual

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, headcanon format, some very very lightly implied maturity difference, marcille #1 wingwoman, reader is taller than chil

…wc! 992

…notes! YOU ARE SO CORRECT he’s genuinely such a valuable asset to the team!! every bit of praise here is well-earned!!!! 

You joined the party along with Senshi at the very start of their journey.  The group was rather small and you’d fear something might happen if they traverse the dungeon on their own.  You felt as if it were your duty to help out, eager to please as you are.

You realised fast that despite the dysfunctional way the group decided to acquire their food, they’re actually much more competent than you thought!

Though this is really you generalising your admiration for the picklock of the group.  Being more combat oriented, the ways in which Chilchuck easily bypasses puzzles and open doors left you rapt with his skill.

Before you knew it, you had acquired a notebook and pencil of your own (that you deliberated on robbing from orcs for a while before caving), and you were jotting down notes like nobody’s business!

(Only when alone or on night guard.  If anyone knew, you’d be so embarrassed…)

When Chilchuck offers a piece of advice about the social behaviours of adventuring parties, you notice.  When Chilchuck offhandedly mentions a tricky aspect of the dungeon, you notice.

When Chilchuck scolds Senshi for treating him like a child, you notice.

You had a feeling he wasn’t a child.  You were sort of observing him unendingly, and he seemed the image of a jaded, experienced adventurer.  You can’t help but feel your admiration for him grow upon realising that. 

It’s difficult not to come across too eager as you’re imploring him for more knowledge.  You’re just curious!  You’re expanding your dungeon knowledge!  He’s happy to tell you anything you need to know, as casually and calmly as any good teacher.

But you know deep down that you’re just really attached to the half-foot.  Maybe too attached…

When someone (Senshi) makes a comment about Chilchuck, even before he could retort like usual you’re standing in front of him telling him what’s what!  Chilchuck is too taken aback to make much of a comment about it afterwards, but he seems… pleased.

(It’s giving “his pronouns are they/them!”)

Marcille and Laios give each other a look whenever this happens.  Not saying you’re being judged, but…

Your earnestness to be the pinnacle of dungeon exploration gives Chilchuck pride in being your mentor.  He’ll make a comment about it occasionally but deep down…

You kind of wish it could be more.

You’re not young necessarily.  You’re years into your adulthood, but even with that in mind, Chilchuck already made it quite clear that inter-party relations are strictly a no-no.

And you just had to go and break rule number one!

It does leave you staring longingly at the half-foot’s peaceful expression when you’re supposed to be on night watch, wishing for a different reality.

It would be part way through your adventure, long after you’ve given up hope on your feelings being reciprocated, when Chilchuck gives you a spot of hope.

Just a run-in with a bicorn can really change your perspective…  Chilchuck actually asked if he could talk, just one-on-one, with you.

You had to contain yourself from exploding when you accepted, following behind him into a nearby corridor.  You pretend to ignore Marcille’s giggles and Izutsumi’s sigh and eyeroll. 

Just had to hold your breath…

Chilchuck turns to you, looking apprehensive.  You do appreciate his progress of trying to be a bit more open to people.  You’re always his number one supporter without even being coddling…  He takes a breath looking up at you.  If you only knew what you did to him with each round of praise and appreciation. …Well, only one way to get there, yeah? He says your name with a weight.  One you’re not able to put to name.  “I haven’t been… entirely honest with you,” he tells you. Your chest tightens and you feel your blood run cold.  “What… What do you mean?” “Nothing bad!”  He’s quick to ease your fears with a desperate wave of his hands.  He’s still working on this, and you can tell from how red his face gets that he’s definitely struggling with this.  You watch his Adam’s apple (small, but noticeable if you stare long enough) (not like you have) bob as he gulps. His gloved hands take yours.  You try your hardest not to blush. “You know how I keep telling you that you should get ahead?  Promote yourself to join the parties of more experienced adventurers?” “Yeah…?” “I was trying to push you away.”  He looks away from you, ashamed.  “So you don’t get any closer.  I also know… how you feel about me.” You’re back to feeling horrified beyond your wits. He's definitely going to reject you.  “I thought you said this wasn’t anything bad!” “I’m getting to it!”  He shoots back with the same increase in volume.  His nerves are getting the better of him. “Then by all means,” you say, “get to it!” Chilchuck’s hands over yours are shaking.  His mouth opens once more, but only a silent quiver of his vocal cords comes out.  He isn’t even looking at you anymore.  You probably think the worst of him by now, after all this time of trying his best to look his best, the image of professionalism. You know what?  Fuck this heart-to-heart stuff.  Marcille’s advice was shoddy from the start. The action is sudden.  Chilchuck unlaced his fingers from yours, and before you could process it, his hands on your shoulders, pushing you down to his height. And he’s kissing you.  A bit feverishly and you really would have thought he’d be a bit better at this considering his experience– But you kiss back, easing into it after your shocked “mmph!?”  He still definitely owes you for putting you through the five stages of grief twice though. Chilchuck breaks apart, and as you recover from your shock, he sighs and smiles slightly.  His face is nearly glowing from the heat; you can feel it quite plainly. “The feeling’s mutual,” he whispers.

[st0nesnglitter]

PLEASE expand more on the Snowjanus/Reader stuff. I’ve been looking far and wide for that exact scenario, you’re a godsend

Thank you darling <3333 I’ll do anything after getting some compliments

I also had this thought.

Both Coryo and Sejanus had such nice, pretty curls. Like the most gorgeous locks of hair you’ve ever seen. And it always felt so soft between your fingers when either of their tongues played with your pussy.

So when you see these gorgeous men with their curls shaved off? Okay, at first it’s hot. It gives them such an authoritative aura, hard angles of their faces accentuated with the lack of soft strands. Even Sejanus’ sweet smile seemed to have a glint of something more dangerous.

But when Coriolanus pretty face is in between your thighs, icy blue eyes studying your every reaction to his movements, frustration sets in. His tongue is lapping at your cunt, prodding into you in an attempt to memorize your taste, and his slutty nose is bumping against your clit. And just as your hands should be met by a mess of snowy white curls you just feel itchy, tiny strands.

“Fuck!” You moan, some pleasure mixed in the frustration, “stupid buzzcut.”

Coriolanus is kind of enjoying your desperate tantrum, your eyebrows knitted into a gorgeous frown. Your displeased mewls mixed with the wet squelch of his tongue is going straight to his cock.

Someone else isn’t as sadistic though.

“Aww, don’t have anything to pull, sweetheart?” Sejanus coos in your hair, voice almost genuine as his big hands splay over your arms.

Your back is against his hard chest, something even harder poking against you, and he’d been occupied with kissing your neck and décolletage. But now with your whines overpowering your moans, lips pulled into a ridiculous pout, he’s pulled his face away from the comfortable crook of your neck to observe the situation.

As Coriolanus slides his hands under your ass, grabbing at the fat to pull you flush against his face, your desperation grow. And poor Sejanus can’t take it.

“Here, darling” he says as his hands grabs yours, “squeeze as hard as you want to pull Coryos hair”.

You hear a disgruntled mumble from your thighs, Coriolanus’s mouth leaving you for a brief moment.

“Spoiled slut.”

[callsigns-haze]

Can you write something with Y/n and Tyler going baby #2 shopping and it's just cute and fluffy with them and Hazel and maybe add some spice but not when Hazel is there hehe. It can be anything! thanks.

Another 2

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Tyler and Y/N take their daughter Hazel baby shopping as they prepare for the arrival of their twin boys, savoring a day filled with love, laughter, and the anticipation of expanding their family.

Warning: Brief suggestive content and fluffy family moments.

The morning sun streamed through the nursery windows, casting a warm, golden glow over the room as Y/N and Tyler stood side by side, watching their three-year-old daughter, Hazel, play with her stuffed animals. The room was a blend of pinks and blues, the latter added in preparation for the twin boys who would be arriving soon. Hazel’s giggles filled the air as she carefully arranged her toys in a row, her little brow furrowed in concentration.

Y/N rested a hand on her growing belly, where the twins were nestled, and exchanged a smile with Tyler. “Hard to believe we’re doing this all over again,” she said softly.

Tyler wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Yeah, except this time it’s double the fun,” he joked, looking down at Hazel with a grin.

Hazel, noticing her parents talking, looked up with bright eyes. “Are the babies coming today?” she asked with the innocent curiosity of a child.

“Not today, sweetie,” Y/N said with a gentle smile. “But soon. We need to make sure we have everything ready for them first.”

“Which is why,” Tyler added, crouching down to Hazel’s level, “we’re going on a little shopping adventure today. You ready to help us pick out some cool stuff for your brothers?”

Hazel’s face lit up at the prospect of an adventure. “Yes! I want to pick the toys!” she declared, bouncing on her feet.

Tyler laughed and scooped Hazel up into his arms. “Alright, little one. Let’s get going.”

The baby store was a whirlwind of colors and options, from tiny onesies to double strollers designed for twins. Y/N held Hazel’s hand as they strolled through the aisles, while Tyler pushed the cart, which was quickly filling with essentials.

“Oh, look at these!” Y/N exclaimed, holding up two identical sets of tiny shoes. “One for each of the boys. Aren’t they adorable?”

Tyler leaned in to take a closer look, grinning. “We should get a matching pair for Hazel too. Can’t leave her out.”

Hazel, who had been eyeing a display of soft blankets, tugged on Y/N’s hand. “Mommy, can we get this for the babies?” She pointed to a light blue blanket covered in little stars.

Y/N smiled down at her. “That’s perfect, Hazel. You’ve got great taste.”

Hazel beamed with pride as Tyler added the blanket to the cart. “You’re going to be the best big sister ever,” Tyler said, giving Hazel’s hair a playful ruffle.

As they moved on to the furniture section, Hazel’s excitement only grew. She eagerly pointed out cribs, rocking chairs, and anything else that caught her eye. Tyler and Y/N laughed as they indulged her suggestions, knowing that Hazel was taking her new role as a big sister very seriously.

After a while, Hazel started to tire out, her earlier enthusiasm giving way to the inevitable crankiness that came with being three years old. Noticing her yawns and rubbing eyes, Tyler suggested they take a break.

“There’s a little café just outside,” he said, adjusting Hazel in his arms as she started to get heavier with sleepiness. “How about we grab something to eat and let Hazel rest for a bit?”

Y/N agreed, and soon they were sitting at a small table in the café, Hazel nestled in Tyler’s lap with a piece of toast in hand. She was quiet now, her eyes drooping as she leaned against her dad, content to let him do most of the eating.

Y/N sipped her iced tea, watching them with a smile. “You know, it’s hard to believe we’re going to have two more little ones soon. It feels like just yesterday we were bringing Hazel home.”

Tyler glanced up at her, his eyes warm. “Yeah, and now look at us. We’re pros at this whole parenting thing.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” Y/N teased, reaching across the table to take his hand. “Twins are going to be a whole new adventure.”

Tyler squeezed her hand gently. “Yeah, but we’ve got this. And we’ve got Hazel to help us out, right?” He looked down at their daughter, who had already started to doze off.

Y/N laughed softly. “If Hazel stays awake long enough, that is.”

By the time they returned home, Hazel was sound asleep in her car seat, clutching the starry blanket she had picked out for her brothers. Tyler carried her inside and gently laid her down on the couch, covering her with a throw blanket. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her little face peaceful and serene.

Y/N set the shopping bags down in the living room and joined Tyler by the couch, watching Hazel sleep. “She’s going to be such a good big sister,” Y/N murmured, leaning against Tyler.

“Yeah, she is,” Tyler agreed, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s waist. “And you’re going to be an amazing mom to three little ones. I don’t know how you do it.”

Y/N smiled up at him. “Because I have you,” she said simply. “We’re a team, remember?”

Tyler leaned down and kissed her softly, his hand resting on her belly where their twins were growing. “Always,” he whispered against her lips.

They stood there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, their future bright and full of love. They knew there would be challenges ahead—sleepless nights, double the diapers, and the chaos of raising three children—but they also knew they would face it all together.

And that was all that mattered.

Later that evening, after Hazel was tucked into bed, Tyler and Y/N found themselves in the nursery, sorting through the day’s purchases. As they arranged the tiny clothes and set up the new furniture, the reality of what was coming began to sink in.

Tyler, always the planner, was checking off items on a list, making sure they hadn’t missed anything. Y/N watched him with a smile, loving how dedicated he was to their growing family.

When the nursery was finally set, Tyler turned to Y/N, a playful glint in his eye. “You know, we haven’t had much time to ourselves lately,” he said, his voice low and suggestive.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “And whose fault is that, Mr. Owens?”

Tyler stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him. “I’d say it’s our combined efforts,” he teased, his hands sliding to her hips. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Y/N laughed softly, looping her arms around his neck. “Neither would I. But I do think we deserve a little alone time.”

Tyler grinned and leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow, lingering kiss. “How about we make the most of it, then?” he murmured against her lips.

Y/N’s heart fluttered, and she nodded, letting Tyler lead her out of the nursery and toward their bedroom. Tonight, they’d savor the quiet, the closeness, and the love they shared, knowing that soon, their lives would become even fuller, even more chaotic, and even more wonderful.

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

@katiemcrae

[allfryam]

the biggest team in the country

Coach Johnson sighed as he watched his football players practice. Their skinny bodies were struggling to keep up with the rest of the teams in the league. They were constantly getting tossed around the field when playing against a bigger team. Coach knew he had to do something if they wanted any chance of winning this year.

at the end of practice, coach rounded all the boys up and took a knee. “Y’all are clearly havin a tough time when playin against the other teams. I’m putting y’all on a new diet to try to enhance your performance.” The players looked around in confusion. The dining halls on campus have given each of y’all an unlimited food plan.” This got the players excited. “Now I want y’all to use this, alright? So I’m going to require y’all to eat at least 5,000 calories per day. No skipping meals. Any player that fails to meet these conditions will have to deal with a separate punishment.” The players had big grins on their faces. They couldn’t be more excited to eat as much as they wanted in the dining halls.

a month after coach started this experiment, he had each player weighed a week before their first game of the season. Matt G. - 155lbs to 169lbs

Jake R. - 143lbs to 160lbs

Steve B. - 151lbs to 164lbs

Jason K. - 149lbs to 170lbs

Mason L. - 154lbs to 171lbs

Dylan S. - 146lbs to 164lbs

Zach B. - 158lbs to 175lbs

Connor M. - 143lbs to 146lbs

coach was seriously impressed with how quickly his team was growing. All of them except Connor. He had only gained 3 pounds in a month? Coach knew he was going to have to give him the special punishment.

after the weigh ins, coach sent the rest of the team home and pulled Connor aside. “Hey Connor.” Coach sighed. “I’ve noticed you only put on 3 pounds this month. What the hell happened?!” Connor’s face got red. “I… umm…” he stuttered. Coach stopped him and told him to meet him at his house in an hour for his punishment.

Connor showed up to coach Johnson’s house extremely nervous. Coach sat him down in the kitchen and put a big bowl of pasta in front of him. “You ain’t leaving till you finish everything I serve you.” Coach growled. Connor shuddered and started eating the pasta. When he was finished with that, coach placed a large cup full of some kind of smoothie. Connor chugged it and his stomach started to look like it was about to burst. When Connor had finished the drink, coach put the final meal in front of him. It was an entire cake. “But I’m already so… full.” Connor moaned. “THATS TOO DAMN BAD!” Coach yelled. Connor reluctantly began eating the cake and about halfway through he started to cry. “WHAT THE HELL YOU CRYIN FOR BOY?! I GAVE YOU UNLIMITED FOOD AND ALL YOU COULD DO WAS GAIN THREE POUNDS?!” Connor cried his way through the rest of the cake until his stomach looked like it was about to explode. Coach sent Connor home and went to bed proud.

By the time the first game came around, Connor had gained a few more pounds because he was terrified of having to go back to coachs house. The boys did better than they ever have. They were becoming heavy enough to rival with the other teams. But it wasn’t enough. They still lost because the lighter teammates were still getting thrown around. Coach knew he had to speed this process up.

at practices he banned the boys from most cardio and stocked the locker room with lots of snacks. Coach continued taking the lightest player to his house to stuff them full of fattening food. Once the boys found out how bad the punishment was, it motivated them even more to be bigger than their teammates. Their uniforms began growing tight around their expanding bellies and thighs. Before the second game, coach took their weights again:

Matt G. - 169lbs to 183lbs

Jake R. - 160lbs to 179lbs

Steve B. - 164lbs to 185lbs

Jason K. - 170lbs to 190lbs

Mason L. - 171lbs to 178lbs

Dylan S. - 164lbs to 187lbs

Zach B. - 175lbs to 203lbs

Connor M. - 146lbs to 180lbs

coach was astonished. His team had really stepped it up, especially Zach, he was over 200lbs now! But looking closely, there was a clear outlier. Mason was the lightest on the team, which meant he was going to get coach’s special punishment.

Mason arrived with an appetite after Connor told him what happened. Coach started with an entire pizza. Mason gulped it down and unbuttoned his jeans to make more room. Coach gave him a carton of ice cream to eat next. As Mason ate, coach noticed his tight shirt start to rise due to his expanding gut. Mason had to take it off because it became so uncomfortable. Towards the end of the carton, Mason decided to drink the melted ice cream left at the bottom. Coach watched as he chugged the creamy liquid spilling a few drops onto his round stomach. Mason set the empty container down and leaned back in his chair. He rubbed his bloated belly and groaned. But coach wasn’t done. He gave Mason a Big Mac as his last meal. Mason could barely think as he slowly shoved the Big Mac into his mouth. His eyes were glazed over and his stomach was screaming in pain. He eventually finished and coach sent him on his way, knowing he learned his lesson.

The second game had finally rolled around and they actually won! The boys were becoming big enough to hold their own on the field. Even though they won, coach still wasn’t satisfied. The team they beat was still one of the smaller ones and some of the lighter boys were still struggling. Coach treated them to a buffet for their victory and made sure they all ate well.

the team continued winning against bigger and bigger teams and coach continued treating them to trips to the buffet. They were a month away from the championship and coach knew they were going to have to get a lot bigger if they wanted to win. He decided to weigh them again so he would have a month to get them as big as possible for the championship.

Matt G. - 183lbs to 218lbs

Jake R. - 179lbs to 208lbs

Steve B. - 185lbs to 230lbs

Jason K. - 190lbs to 236lbs

Mason L. - 178lbs to 227lbs

Dylan S. - 187lbs to 217lbs

Zach B. - 203lbs to 257lbs

Connor M. - 180lbs to 234lbs

coach liked the results he was seeing, especially with Zach, he was easily the heaviest on the team, and he put on weight like it was nothing. But once again, coach also noticed the lightest player, Jake.

Jake knew what he was in for when he arrived at coachs house. He sat at the table ready to eat the insane amount of food coach was about to feed him. Coach started with waffles. A stack of about 15 thick waffles dripping with butter and syrup. Jake tore through them one by one, not caring about the syrup dripping from his mouth onto his rounded belly. Coach brought out a cheesecake next, and Jake took off his tight shirt to make more room. He scarfed down the delicious food, moaning with pleasure. Coach was surprised. Nobody on the team ate as fast as Jake, and they definitely didn’t enjoy it as much as he was. When the cheesecake was gone, coach brought out the final meal, his homemade lasagna. Jake grinned as he began to eat it. Lasagna was his absolute favorite, and coach made a mean lasagna. Coach watched with awe as Jake’s belly grew and grew. Soon enough, the entire tray of lasagna was gone and Jake just let out a big burp and rubbed his bloated gut. “What else ya got coach? I still have some room for more.” Jake said between burps. Coach was stunned. There was no way this boy could still eat after all that food. Coach found a pie left in his fridge and watched Jake quickly get to work. Before coach knew it, the pie was gone and Jake was headed home with his bloated belly leading the way.

in the month leading up to the championship, coach Johnson was doing everything he could to keep his team growing. He mixed mass gainer into their water, treated them to the buffet after every practice, got the school to supply them electric scooters so they wouldn’t waste their energy walking to class, convinced the chefs at the dining hall to give the boys extra food when they ordered, bought snacks to supply their dorms for when the dining halls were closed, and finally bought them bigger uniforms so they had plenty of room to grow. He would constantly call them small and weak, and do his “punishment” with the lightest player every single night.

the night before the championship, coach weighed the players one last time.

Matt G. - 218lbs to 262lbs

Jake R. - 208lbs to 270lbs

Steve B. - 230lbs to 281lbs

Jason K. - 236lbs to 288lbs

Mason L. - 227lbs to 274lbs

Dylan S. - 217lbs to 264lbs

Zach B. - 257lbs to 312lbs

Connor M. - 234lbs to 290lbs

coach was proud. They had all ballooned in the last month with coach’s help. Their round bellies, thick thighs, massive arms, and broad shoulders made them quite the force to be reckoned with.

the day of the game, the team played great. They slammed the other team to the ground with their immense weight. Especially Zach. He had grown to over 300 pounds, and not a single person on the other team could move him. Their smallest player, Matt, (who wasn’t small at all) was the fastest. Zach would push through the team and pass the ball to Matt who would run straight to the end zone and score. Coach and the team celebrated their victory with one last trip to the buffet. Their massive bodies took up the entire booth, and all of their food covered the entire table. They never had leftovers though, if one boy got full, another player would volunteer and eat the rest. The boys cleared the table and revealed their massive new guts.

coach stood up and tapped his glass with a fork to make a toast. “Yall listen up. I’m so proud of yall for stickin with it this season and followin my orders. I know it wasn’t always easy to keep up… but some of you did that and then some. So I wanted to hand out a few awards.” Coach reached into his bag and pulled out a miniature trophy. It read, “most weight gained - Zach B.” The boys cheered and Zach claimed his trophy. The rest of the trophies included:

most “punishments” - Connor M.

biggest appetite - Jake R.

roundest belly - Dylan S.

biggest comeback - Connor M.

coach had created 8 big, heavy, and hungry football players, and he was excited to meet the new freshmen next year to see if they would do as well. ~

I’ve always really liked the idea of a coach fattening up his players. I’ll probably do a part 2 if you guys want it. I already have some ideas on how coach plans on fattening up the new freshmen. Anyways, love you guys! And remember you can always message me with story ideas or a picture you want me to write a story about and I’ll do it completely free.

[alastor-simp]

Such a Tease - Angel Dust x Female Human Reader Part 2/2

❥Summary: Angel never thought he could fall so hard for a human. It was only a few months since you have come to hell, and your actions were driving him insane. It was only a matter of time until he won't be able to restrain himself.

❥Tags: Angel dust x Human Reader, human reader, female Reader, angel dust getting flustered, a bit spicy, fluff and spice, teasing.

Notes: Requested by @lokis-imaginary-friend . Here is the spicy part 2 of this story. Sorry for the long wait, been busy. Enjoy everyone:)

**A Couple Months Later- Angels POV**

"Damn that Y/N!" Angels was lounging on the hotel couch, eyes gazing at you from across the room. You were just casually tidying up the hotel, bending down to pick up some things, causing your behind to pop out a bit, in front of Angel. His face was slightly flushed and his lips, bitten between his teeth. You were driving him insane with your sultry actions and flirts. He didn't think anyone could rally him up as much as you did, and he wasn't even into girls. The attraction didn't occur right away, it builded up over the time, the longer you remained at the hotel. Your kind and positive attitude drew him in, causing his walls he built up to crumble around you, exposing more of his sensitive and true side. He wasn't use to being treated like a normal person, as he was used to others using him up and throwing him away once they had their fun, but not you, which made him slowly fall for you. The more he stayed next to you, the more and more he was met with your lecherous actions

*Flashback*

Angel recalled heading into the kitchen, to grab some grub after a long day at work. As he entered in, he spotted you sitting on one the chairs at the table, with a popsicle in your mouth. You hadn't noticed his presence and continued to lick away at the frozen treat, enjoying the taste. Angel eyes widen at your actions, and he felt something grow down below. He continued to stare away at you, as your lips expanded to place the popsicle in your mouth, letting out a small moan. Turning your head around, you noticed Angel standing in the room, staring at you. "Oh hey, Angel. Want one?" You pointed to the freezer with the popsicle as you continued to look at Angel with a smile. Shaking his head, Angel quickly said "Nah" and sped out of the kitchen.

Another time is when he was dressed to go service a client, and you had spotted him coming down the stairs, giving him a wolf whistle. "Damn, someone looking extra sexy today." Now Angel was used to stuff like that outside of the hotel, but hearing that coming from you, had his face flushed to the point it reached where his ears would supposedly be. He let out a small thanks and hurriedly walked to the hotel exit.

*End of Flashback*

Coming back to the presence, Angel continued to stare at you, as you finished fixing up and started interacting with Niffty, who had sped up next to you, holding up a feather duster. "Lots of nasty cobwebs on the higher levels upstairs. Could you help me?" Angel saw you smile at Niffty, saying "Sure!", as you grabbed one of the feather dusters and began to head upstairs. Angel eyes remained lock on you as you left the area. "The hell is wrong with you? A gruff voice came from behind Angel. Angel turned to see Husk standing behind the couch, beer bottle in one hand. "Ain't nothing wrong Huskie." Angel tried to play it off, but Husk raised an eyebrow at him. "We all know that's a crock of shit. You were staring at Y/N for a good 10 minutes." Unable to come up with a retort, Angel placed his head down, having realized he had been caught. Husk sighed at that, and placed a hand on Angel's back, giving it a pat. "If you need to talk to them about something, just go ahead and do it." Husk smirked a bit then walked away, leaving Angel by himself again. Angel pondered through his thoughts, before a smirk began to arise on his face. He got up from the couch and began to head to where you were.

**Your POV**

"Dang, there is so many webs up here." You were standing on your tiptoes, trying to reach the cobwebs that were covering the top part of the ceiling. It wasn't easy to reach, but it was better then nothing. It had been quite a while since you had landed in Hell, literally, and still remained a human. It wasn't easy in the beginning, since it took a lot of time to adjust to your surroundings and also remain hidden from the other demon folk outside the hotel. Charlie did say that not many demons would care about you being a human, but there were others who would delight in finding you and either: A: kill you or B: eat you, so you decided it be better if you kept a low profile. You did managed to befriend everyone in the hotel the longer you stayed, including Alastor, who you assumed hated you in the beginning, but he grew use to you over time. He made it VERY clear that if you were to ever go outside the hotel, to wear a disguise and also have him accompany you. You had heard about his deep hatred for Vox and he knew that scoundrel would thrive off exposing you to everyone in hell, and he refused to let that happen to a valued friend of his.

Your relationships with everyone was great, but the one you had the biggest one with was Angel. It took a bit, but the both of you instantly clicked. The both of you were sassy to a T, enjoyed telling jokes and adored talking about makeup and fashion. You knew that Angel had a huge barrier around himself, preventing others from getting to close, as he didn't want people to see what he really was behind the porn star persona. It made your heart swell when he broke that down for you, and began to act real with you and tell you how he really felt. It made you furious when he told you about his deal with one of the overlords, Valentino, to the point you were willing to fight him yourself, not caring if you exposed your human self. Angel was happy that you cared so much about him to the point you were willing to beat up his boss, but he rather it stay that way and he couldn't risk losing one of his best friends to a horrible guy like Valentino. Thinking about it now, you noticed that Angel has become a bit more distant from you. It didn't happen right away, but you noticed he would either look away from you whenever you were doing something or walk briskly past you at other occurrences. "Have I done something to anger him maybe?" A thought came through your head as you continued to clean the mess of webs.

A harsh push was met to your back causing you to jump and let out a small shriek. "Wha-" Looking back, you see it was Angel who had pushed you, "Oh, Angel. Whats wrong?" He said nothing and continued to push you towards the door that led to his room, pushing you threw it. "H-hey what is-" Pushing you against the door, with his many arms, your words were lost in your throat as Angel had placed his lips against yours. "!!!!" Your eyes shout open as your hands raised up in shock, not expecting this at all. Angel had his eyes closed, his lips molding into yours, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips. His two set of hands had placed themselves on your cheeks while the other two were placed on your hips, caressing them softly. The more he kissed you, the more you felt out of breath as you had never kissed anyone before. Angel gave you one last smooch before pulling back, causing you to sink to the floor, breathing heavily and face colored pink. "Huff-huff Angel-huff. Wh- Why did you kiss me?"

Looking up at Angel, you noticed the horny expression on his face. He was licking his lips while looking down at you. His cheeks were red and his eyes were glowing with desire. "Don't play dumb with me sugar-lips. You were wanting me to do this to ya. All those flirtatious actions from you, driving me insane." Angel lowered himself to his knees, moving closer to your position against the door. He smirked at you, as he inched closer to your neck, placing kisses on it. Shivers ran down your back at the feeling of his heavy breathing right against you. "What flirty actions?" You squeaked out as he placed another nip on your neck, causing you to jolt. Pulling back from your neck, Angel leaned closer, raising an eyebrow at you. "Licking that popsicle in the kitchen before to set me off and then complimenting nonstop whenever you saw me. You are such a tease, ya know that?" Hearing his explanation, you recalled those moments, but your actions weren't meant to tease him, you were being honest when you complemented his looks and the ice cream thing you were unaware about.

"I wasn't teasing you Angel, I swear." Angel eyes widen a bit, before he continued to stare at you, before he smirked again and leaned closer. "Either way toots, you got a horny porn star right here. I ain't gonna stop unless ya okay with this." Angel leaned closer, holding your face up with his other hands while the other two trailed to your stomach and then your legs. Tongue-tied, you had no idea how to respond to that. You admit you did like Angel, but were those feelings more on the romance scale or no? Angel waited patiently as he saw you close your eyes, clearly thinking on what you were going to saw. Slowly, you opened your eyes and gazed back into his heterochromic eyes, "I-I'm okay with whatever happens." Angel felt like his heart was gonna burst out of his chest, hearing your voice say those words to him. Chuckling, he gave you small peck on the lips. His arms wrapped around you, and he lifted you up bridal style. He carried you over to the bed, ready to indulge in and for you to indulge in him right back. What the both of you plan to do in his room, well...I'll leave that to your imaginations.

-END-

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