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lale-txt · 21 days ago

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𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐄𝐒 (𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ❦ 𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝟎𝟏 ; 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭: 𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚

♫ Nilüfer Yanya - midnight sun

Love is raised by common thieves // Hiding diamonds up their sleeves // Always I did it for you // Never felt so sure // You're my best machine // You're my midnight sun // Always I did it for you

word count: 4.3k

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“And this is the secret snack drawer of our department. Bossman refills it every Tuesday so you gotta be quick if you wanna snatch your favs before someone else does.” “Alright, thanks Bokuto-san, I’ll keep it in mind.”

When they said office tour this wasn’t exactly what you imagined, but you’re not complaining. You trail behind this giant puppy of a man who can barely contain his excitement over showing you around the building. While he gives off the impression that there’s not a single thought behind these unsettling eyes of his, you can tell that he is a sweetheart to his core and you have a good feeling about working together.

It’s been an hour since Kiyoko from HR–the most beautiful girl you’ve ever laid your eyes on–dropped you off in the hands of your future team and so far you’ve seen:

The half-heartedly fixed window on the 3rd floor a certain “Tsum-Tsum” broke during last month’s office party

The girls restroom where Yachi from Marketing could be heard crying (“She schedules her crying session between meetings, it’s normal for her so don’t worry!”)

The cafeteria and which vending machines there to avoid, as well as the ones Bokuto ended up being stuck with his arm in

The rooftop where they hold events during the warmer months (and where you accidentally locked yourself out when the door fell shut behind you–thankfully a guy built like a french door fridge who introduced himself as Meian came to your rescue after twenty minutes).

The coffee shop next door where everyone goes because the in-house coffee is ass apparently and HR cut budget for a new coffee machine

What you haven’t seen yet:

Your future cubicle and the floor your team works on

The IT department where you’re supposed to pick up your work laptop

The showrooms of the latest collection

The Bossman

Still, your nervousness from this morning is easing slowly. When you applied for this position, you wouldn’t have thought that they’d actually hire you considering what a mess your resume is on paper. Moved overseas with your family in middle school and continued living there till a month ago. Dropped out of college to pursue a career as seamstress (all self-taught no less because an apprenticeship meant too much commitment). Then chased that promised record label deal with your band which didn’t happen before you crashed and burned out big time.

Frankly speaking, you were tired.

It’s as if every decision in your life was either taken away from you or led you down a miserable path. Everything you touched just crumbled underneath your fingertips. Sometimes you catch yourself thinking that maybe you weren’t built for this kind of life. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a dreamer.

Something boring. Something stable.

You applied for this corporate job with the hope in your heart that you can find some rest. Putting an end to worrying about bills at the end of the month, and finally knowing which bed you’ll fall asleep in at night, seeing the same old city day in, day out. Maybe a place to call home but then again you didn’t allow yourself to wish for too much. Just a change from whatever trainwreck your life had been prior to this would be nice.

You loved sewing and making music with your entire being, but maybe you never should’ve built a living on it–if you could even call the past few years of your adulthood that. Living. It felt more like surviving. You’ve been missing that joy over these things you used to love the most for a long time now.

So when you got the call that you got the job last month, you didn’t have to think twice. You started packing your few belongings into boxes the same day and gave notice to quit your shabby flat. The money you once saved to go on a world tour with your band now came in handy to fund your move back to Japan. It all happened so fast. In a way it felt like an escape, like giving up; but in your heart you knew this was the right thing to do.

Maybe you had to take your eyes off the things you loved to really see them again.

“Hello…? Yes, she’s with me. What? No, I wasn’t showing her the view from the fire escape ladder. Should I? Why am I getting yelled at?”

You snap out of your thoughts when Bokuto answers a call that obviously makes him go through all emotions in the span of a minute. He gestures something to you and you have no idea what it means, but based on context clues you assume it’s “the bossman” on the other end of the line.

“Meeting room on cloud nine, got it. What? But ‘ninth floor' sounds so boring… yeah, yeah, I’ll bring her. No detours, got it. Not even… no? Okay.”

Bokuto hangs up the phone and you swear his hair looks a little deflated, just like his overall expression. He really was an open book. It was kind of refreshing.

“Did you get in trouble because of me?”, you ask and he shakes his head vehemently.

“No, no! I showed you all the important stuff and Omi-Omi–I mean, the bossman–will show you the boring rest. Like where your desk is and everything. He’s back from his out-of-office appointment and booked a meeting room for you two. I’ll take you there!”

Omi. The corners of your mouth twitch a little when you hear that name, a sweet memory unraveling in your chest. Bruised knees and ice cream dripping down your knuckles, small hands pushing you on the swings and braiding flower crowns made from daisies for you. Plucked out petals. He loves me, he loves me not. Friendship bracelets and baby teeth.

You aren’t any good with names, but you’re sure you would’ve remembered this one during the interview process.

“This Omi-Omi…” you wonder as you follow Bokuto’s lead, “is he a new hire as well? I’ve spoken with a ton of people for my interview but if I remember correctly the team leader was someone called Miya Osamu…?”

“Ohh, you spoke with Myaa-sam!” Bokuto’s eyes seem to light up. “No, he doesn’t work here anymore, just his carbon copy! Quit the job to follow his dreams, he said. He’s about to open his own restaurant just around the corner actually! We should go there for lunch once it’s open!”

A strange emotion tugs on your heartstrings. Following your dreams. Yeah, that ended disastrous for you but still you can’t help but feel a pang of envy over everyone who does it anyway. You try to shove it deep down, far away. It’s long in the past. You’re here now, a new chapter. New faces. New routines. All new. Same old you.

“Omi-Omi got promoted when Myaa-sam left, so that’s why you haven’t met him during your interviews,” Bokuto adds and holds out a door for you. “Don’t worry about him. He can be a bit grumpy at times but he has a sparkly heart or whatever the saying is. You’ll get along just fine!”

Bokuto leaves you alone with your thoughts in the small meeting room. You’re not sure what to do while you wait. The prospect of sitting still seems awful but you also don’t wanna be nosey and flip through the fabric samples someone left on the table or read through the flipchart in the corner, even though you’re tempted, so you end up pacing around the room and looking outside the big windows. Everything outside seems so small from up this high. It makes you feel irrelevant too and it’s a strangely comforting feeling. Being nothing but a name, a small gear in a bigger picture. Maybe if you become a blank canvas, you can find the colors in your world again.

You twirl around when the door clicks open, flattening down your skirt, suddenly now very aware that the moving box with your flatiron is still stuck on some container at sea. Doesn’t matter, maybe you can pull it off as edgy or casual chic with the right amount of charm and charisma.

Behind you, the door clicks open, making you twirl around.

And freeze.

“Sorry I’m late, I picked up your work laptop from the IT department on my way, so we can get started right aw–”

Leather sleeve holders on a spotless white shirt. A black face mask covering the lower half of his face. Dark curls, moving like the sea at night. Hands so large they’d swallow yours easily if you ever get to hold them again. Two birthmarks, right above the eye–that’s where a lover used to kiss you in a past life, you remember saying when you were both kids.

“Kiyoomi,” you hear yourself mutter. It sounds distant, like an echo from the past. It’s been over a decade since you tasted his name in your mouth and even after all this time your hearts still recognize each other.

“Ah,” he says and then, after a pause, “you.”

He looks dumbfounded and just stands there frozen, balancing a bundle of paperworks and a laptop in one hand and two styrofoam cups of coffee in the other. For a few seconds you just blink at each other, trying to process whatever cheap trick the universe decided to play here.

Sakusa Kiyoomi. The boy you claimed you’d marry one day when you were both just eight years old. You remember being so sure about it. How the thought never left you growing up; and how you broke down crying when your parents told you about their plans to move overseas for their work during your first year of middle school, the end of a dream.

Eventually you snap out of your paralysis.

“Ah, you. What kind of non-reaction is that?”, you ask and shake your head, laughing. You take the coffee from his hand and reach out to slowly peel the mask off his face. Despite his brows knitting together, he doesn’t protest it. It’s strange, seeing him. The boy you once promised your heart to in the sandbox and the grown man with the same face, just sharper. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you now.

“Well, excuse me, but the girl who I still have a bite mark from when we were kids just spawned out of the blue in front of me,” Kiyoomi huffs, rolling his eyes like he used to when he was annoyed by your antics. He cups one side of your face with his now free hand and lifts it slightly as if to get a better look at you, his thumb idly caressing your cheek. It feels awfully intimate and you find yourself leaning closer into his touch.

Omi. Your Omi.

It’s as if time stood still between you; as if not over a decade has passed since you last saw each other. Held each other. Murmured promises in each other's ears as you hugged goodbye in the pouring rain. Of course it was pouring that day, it was as if the heavens were weeping over the two of you being separated. Maybe that's the universe's apology for this past dick move, you think, the corners of your lips curling upwards.

Kiyoomi lets go of your cheek and flicks your forehead as if he read your mind. Another habit from back then.

“Still a daydreamer,” he remarks and for the first time since he walked into the room he smiles and it’s like the sun has risen again after years of winter.

When you sit down together, so close that your knees under the table are touching, you find it hard to focus. Kiyoomi explains the applications you’ll work with, your logins, company security policies, which meetings you’ll attend with him the upcoming weeks and the hierarchy of your team, but you don’t follow. At all. You’re too distracted by the flutter in your chest and wondering what the shaved part in the back of his neck would feel like if you ran your fingers over it, as well as what he’d been up to over the past decade, and why he never answered your letters, and…

Your phone vibrating on the table next to you snaps you out of your thoughts. You click your tongue in annoyance when you see it’s the moving company calling you.

“Sorry, I gotta take this. Won’t take long,” you apologize and pick up the phone, leaving the room for an ounce of privacy–it’s not like the thin walls muffle much when you yell into the speaker for five minutes only to hang up in defeat.

Kiyoomi looks up when you return, his eyes looking you up and down with the same intense gaze like he always did.

“Boyfriend trouble?” His voice is bland, seemingly disinterested, but no matter how much he tries to hide it you can still hear the underlying weight of the question. “Or girlfriend trouble. Didn’t mean to make assumptions.”

You slump down on your chair again and sigh in defeat, shaking your head.

“None of that. It’s the damn moving company,” you huff, slamming your phone back on the table. “They mixed up dates and now I’m here but all my stuff isn’t.” You rub the bridge of your nose in annoyance. “It’s been almost a month and my back will kill me if I have to spend one more night on an air mattress.”

Kiyoomi drums his fingers on the table, pondering. You can tell by the furrow of his brows and the intensity of his gaze. Once again you notice what a fine man he has become. His beauty would’ve been intimidating if you haven’t known him since you were little kids.

“Stay with me.”

You look up from your phone where you wrote down the new date they gave you for the arrival of your furniture and blink at him slowly. Not fully registering what he’s saying.

“Stay with me,” Kiyoomi repeats again, noticing your confusion. “Till your things arrive. I have a guest room. It’s a short commute to the job. I cook and I clean.” He shuts his laptop and gets up, running a hand through his dark curls.

“And…?”, you ask, as if waiting for the condition because surely it sounds too good to be true.

“And maybe I’m also worried that you’ll turn out to be nothing but a fever dream if I take my eyes off you again.”

In the evening, Kiyoomi and you stop by your almost empty apartment to pick up your suitcases with a change of clothes.

Sneaking away after work together without the rest of the team noticing was surprisingly easy–Meian had clocked out early to pick up his partner from school (Kiyoomi begged him to clarify that she was a teacher to avoid any future confusion), Bokuto and Atsumu were stuck in an elevator (“They’re not my responsibility after 5pm”) and Hinata went out for dinner with some business partners from Brazil.

When Kiyoomi saw how you were dressed for the chilly autumn weather, he wordlessly turned around and disappeared in the office building for five minutes again, showing up with a scarf that looked suspiciously like the one the mannequin in the showroom wore, from the collection that wasn’t supposed to see the light yet. Nobody has to know, especially not how tenderly he wraps it around you, making sure you stay warm. He always did.

Some kind of protective instinct within him kicks in when you unlock the door to your place. Kiyoomi, who huffed about the lack of security of your apartment complex for the duration of the whole elevator ride and then some more when you let him in, was now checking your windows and front door.

“You’re gonna tire yourself out from all that head shaking and tongue clicking, Omi,” you tell him while you stuff your scattered clothes across the floor back into your two big suitcases. Most of them were absolutely not fit for the season because after spending half of your life abroad. You kind of underestimated how cold Japan could get during autumn and winter. Maybe you could sew a few pieces after work and on the weekends.

“This place is a rathole,” Kiyoomi groans after turning the dripping faucet on and off and making a face of utter disapproval. “You should just move in with me permanently.”

“I’m not moving in with you, I just met you like eight hours ago,” you snarl back and roll your eyes, but maybe, in the back of your mind, you’re considering it.

Kiyoomi crouches down next to you, taking your chin between his fingers so you’d look at him.

“Eight hours my ass,” he huffs. “Don’t act like we spent our childhood glued together. You slept more in my bed than in yours. The memory foam of my mattress kept the shape of you long after you were gone.”

“Now that’s kinda romantic.”

You glance at him, a small smile tugging on the corners of your mouth. Your Omi. How you missed him. His thumb traces the outline of your jaw, and for a fleeting second you wonder if he’s gonna kiss you.

Maybe you really want him to kiss you.

You take a cab to Kiyoomi’s apartment (“What have you packed in these suitcases? Bricks? I’m not hauling these to the other end of the city. Get in.”) and he holds your hand for the entire duration of the ride under the feeble excuse that your hands are too cold. On the outside you watch the city lights pass by, an artificial milky way that unexpectedly lead you back into your first love’s arms.

Kiyoomi’s place is clean and spacious without being cold. The scent of it is making your brain tingle in a strange way, the subtle note of an almost forgotten childhood memory resurfacing again; the boy you once loved still living here but also someone else, someone he grew into without you.

You step out of your heels and shrug off your jacket and the scarf, dropping them carelessly to the ground. Behind you Kiyoomi bends down to hang it up neatly on the coat rack while you waltz inside as if you own this place. Another thing that hasn’t changed since you both were little.

Expensive, you think, recognizing some of the furniture brands and decorations. In one corner of the living room stands a vintage serving cart, crystal glasses and pricey bottles of various alcohols on top of it. His walls are adorned with artworks of all sizes, but otherwise they’re bare, the shelves missing trinkets and personal touches like framed photos of family and friends.

Still, the whole place feels like a home, lived in by someone as quiet and private as Kiyoomi.

“It’s late, I’m gonna order us some food,” Kiyoomi announces when he appears behind you, fingers tapping on his phone screen in one hand while the other unbuttons his shirt a little. He doesn’t look at you, just hands you his phone, gesturing vaguely. “Pick anything you like. My treat.”

Sitting down on the couch with your knees hugged to your chest, you scroll through the food options. Your attention span is fleeting, your eyes darting from the screen to Kiyoomi who carries your suitcases to the guest bedroom. Giving you a place to be, to stay, like it’s the most natural thing to do. Suddenly you’re very aware of the heaviness of your bones and how tired you feel.

You’ve been running for a long time. You’re home now.

Kiyoomi returns with a towel and a change of clothes, taking the phone from you again. He frowns when he scrolls through your food picks, letting out a small sigh.

“You still have the palate of a five year old.”

“You told me to pick anything I like? Just because you were fed caviar and gold dust as a baby… You pick something then.”

“I didn’t say I won’t order it, no? Go take a bath meanwhile. You had a long day.”

A long day. If it was only that.

But you don’t say anything, just wordlessly take the stuff from Kiyoomi’s hands and let him usher you to the bathroom. He pats the counter for you to sit on while he runs you a bath, pouring some bathing essence that causes a mild explosion of bubbles (same as you liked it back then). The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up when he checks the water temperature before turning back to you. He walks over till he’s standing between your legs, his hands coming down to rest on the sides of your thigh.

In the confined space of the bathroom, he seems even taller, wider. Nothing left from his baby cheeks and soft features. There was a time when you could see eye to eye, but now he’s towering over you with ease. Your hands find their way to his hips, subconsciously making him inch closer.

“You don’t have to do all of that for me, you know,” you mumble as you glance up at him.

“I want to. So please, let me,” he replies quietly. His face is so close, you could count his lashes if they weren’t endless. Endless as his adoration for you–still, after all this time. You briefly wonder if you could love each other like you did back then. Or even more. Your heart is drumming, a nostalgic melody you haven’t listened to in a while but one that’s engraved into your being.

It would be so easy, loving him. Like breathing.

Kiyoomi pulls you into a tight hug, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Your arms around him cling tight, as if part of you is afraid that he is just a fleeting illusion, crumbling the moment you let go. It seems like you share the same fear. He shakes his head when your grip loosens slightly.

“Not yet,” he mumbles, his lips brushing over the skin of your neck when he does. “Don’t let go yet.”

Your fingers are tangled in his curls, keeping him close, your bodies pressed against each other. Hearts beating in unison. You silently thank the sun and the moon for bringing you back home into his arms. Only when his neck starts to hurt from the way he’s hunched over you, he reluctantly peels himself away from you, patting your side. “C’mon now. Your bath will get cold.”

He holds out a hand to help you down from the counter, slender fingers wrapping around yours.

“But I wanna keep talking to you,” you pout, earning a small eye roll from him, but the faint smile on his lips is betraying the gesture.

“Then leave the door a crack open. I’ll talk to you, doll,” he replies and flicks your forehead. Before he leaves the bathroom he turns around again, as if there was something else on the tip of his tongue, but he decides to swallow it. For now.

Immersed in the bubble bath, you tell Kiyoomi everything that happened over the span of the past decade. From your life overseas and how lonely it had been, to the missing letters and how you tried finding him on social media when you were older, how much you loved sewing and making music and how it burned you out doing these things for a living. You pour your heart out. Somehow it’s easier when you’re not looking at him, when you can’t see your own sad reflection in his dark eyes.

You can hear him moving around on the outside, not peeking, but always near enough to give you short answers, ask questions or to simply hear him laugh through the small crack you left open. It is strange. Life is strange. One night you’re selling your bass to have something to eat for the rest of the month, then a heartbeat later you’re sitting in your puppy love’s bathtub while he orders you fries and waffles.

That night, you fall in love again.

Or maybe you never fell out of it. But it’s there, tangible, glowing. You're tucked under a thick blanket, a photo album in your lap, and Kiyoomi is hand feeding you nuggets while you look over the slightly faded photos from when you were kids, some you have long forgotten about.

The one where you lost your first baby teeth, grinning from ear to ear to show off your tooth gap. You cried horribly that day and to comfort you, Kiyoomi bought you a small plushie from his pocket money. It still sits next to your pillow when you fall asleep every night.

The one where you wore your middle school uniforms for the first time, not knowing you would be torn apart a year later and never got to graduate together. It’s also when Kiyoomi had another growth spurt and you realized you really, really liked this boy.

The one where you played dress up in your mother’s wardrobe, her wedding dress way too big on you, the veil awry on top of your hair, but Kiyoomi looking at you like you’re magic. It was all play pretend, but maybe in another life he really became your husband if life hadn’t torn you apart.

“I really missed you,” you sigh quietly, your head resting against his shoulder as you shuffle through the photos. The nostalgia is leaving a bittersweet taste in your mouth, the what if’s getting harder to swallow. It’s like the words are clawing in your throat, begging to be let out. Kiyoomi wraps his arm closer around you, pressing a soft kiss on top of your head.

“Missed you too. More than anything.”

It seems like everything leads you back to him. In his arms, his home, his heart. You have a feeling that maybe this could be the beginning of something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.

a/n: i rewrote this chapter SO many times to a point where i wanted to rip my hair and my eyes out so here we are. omi loving demon and me are shaking hands rn, WE MADE IT. thank you so much for reading and loving omi as much as i do. this chapter is for YOU 🌷 ps: meian's partner mentioned is y/n from dodger's oh captain, my captain

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astrogre · 1 year ago

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What gifts to buy for each Venus sign

Christmas is among us, my favourite season and time of the year. Venus is the planet of love, by nature it can display what we like to receive from others but if you don’t know their Venus or the house it’s in you can try to look at the persons Sun sign instead but Venus is ideal.

A gift based on their:

Sun sign will make them feel seen and like you know them well, it will be a gift they may appreciate

Venus sign is all they’ve ever desired it’s the pinnacle of their ideal gift. Especially as Venus represents how we like to receive and experience love

Aries/ 1H Venus

Gym membership, running shoes, thrill seeking experiences like tickets to bungee jumping, rock climbing, a skydiving event, gym outfit, tickets to their favourite artist, tickets to festival, cool lighter, archery classes, tickets to sports games, a shirt with their teams logo or merch from their favourite artists, scissors set, cooking tools, hair styling products like hairspray, hair dye, Fitbit/apple watch, knives set, sports gear, heavy bass headphones, tickets for those room smashing experiences, take them clay pigeon shooting, family destroying board games like Risk or Catan, diy tattoo kit, diy piercing kit, theme park tickets.

Aries Venus are by nature thrill seekers, Aries is ruled by the head and has 1st house influences, they can certainly appreciate something that ignites passion, they are impulsive and quick by nature to pursue what they desire. They need gifts that match their decisive nature and to let out that pent up energy they have in them, I honestly think experiences are the best for them. Or a box of hair dye for their impulsive moments

Taurus/ 2H Venus

Hire a chef or take them to a really good restaurant for a 5 course meal that serves orgasmic food and has impeccable visuals/atmosphere OR you can even arrange a 7 course homemade meal with the finest of recipes! , fine jewellery adorned with a gemstone, culinary experiences, cooking classes, kitchenware, go to fragrantica.com and find a high quality perfume to give, premium home decor, art, antique items, antique furniture, comfortable cosy clothing, hot water bottle, gardening tools, plants, selection of seeds for their garden, diffuser, essential oils, desserts like baklava/ferro rocher, luxury goods, wellness retreat subscription, day at the spa, tea set, comfy velvet winter pillows and bed sheets

Oh my Taurus natives, they know how to break a bank for Christmas and if not they can enjoy luxury on a budget! They enjoy the finer things of life of course Venus ruled, they know how to induge in pleasures and satisfaction. Due to the earthy influence they have a green finger and a natural affinity with plants and gardening, they may love flowers or want to grow plants themselves. Taurus venuses are rather easy to gift, if you know them they usually have a vice, it may be sleep, food or pure laziness, get them something according to their vice and they will treasure it.

Gemini/ 3H Venus

Really cool stationary, Spotify subscription, comedy show tickets, books from their favourite genre, a notebook, Grammarly subscription, cards against humanity board game, Duolingo subscription, multiplayer games, home kit recording studio, language learning stuff, calligraphy classes, kindle, portable car charger, Bluetooth speaker, karaoke machine, suitcase, travel accessories, a musical instrument, sealing wax kit, creative hobby supplies, microphone, podcasting equipment, audio editing software, a car, vr headset, Nintendo online subscription, Netflix/HBO/youtube/crunchyroll subscription

Gemini rules communication, short journeys and social engagement. Blessing these natives with tools to enhance their pleasant hobbies will make them swoon in gratitude, if you want to get them something make it engaging and whimsical. These natives are ruled by mercury and always welcome something that requires the mind.

Cancer/ 4H Venus

A cooking set, baking set, comfort food, commission artwork of the family, family photos, some really nice home decor, a keepsake/musical box adorned with velvets and soft materials that will store sentimental objects, a locket necklace, family recipe book make a recipe book of all their favourite foods and some foods you know they’d like, soft fluffy blanket, the family heirloom, hand crafted quilt, hand painted ceramic mug, animal crossing game, sims 4 game, games relating to the home, bring and fly in family that are far away as a surprise and cook their favourite meal together, household utilities, lush bath products, a personal chef for a day, a personal butler for a day, custom family tree art, ancestry DNA kit (please be careful though once you use them they keep your data and if they get hacked your information is out there), home movie night, comfy slippers and pyjamas, family board games, this christmas make them Christmas dinner this time.

Cancer rules the home and there’s nothing more appreciated by a cancer Venus than things that remind them of this. They are by nature expressive and nurturing, this time let them be pampered!

Leo/ 5H Venus

Hair care products, gift card for their favorite store, make them an edit no joke like a TikTok edit that makes them look really cool, one of those light up mirrors or a pretty handheld one if they don’t have one already, book them a photoshoot together if they don’t like the camera maybe post them on your social media and show affection for these bold natives, theatre tickets, bold sunglasses, luxury watch, good jewellery, VIP experiences like backstage passes or reservation to exclusive invite only restaurants, designer clothing that is a prestigious brand they love, commission style artwork, make them a playlist of songs that reminds you of them, fine wine, personalised fragrance creation that allows them to create their own signature fragrance, personalised makeup makeover, hire a stylist for them

A perfect gift for Leo’s need to have an element of self expression, luxury and incorporate their personality that garners attention from peers. They need a gift that makes them feel special, something tailored specifically for them that cannot be gifted to anyone else. Personalised gifts do well either this placement too. When I think of these natives I just think of that Meghan Trainor music video “Me Too” watch that and you’ll get their vibe.

Virgo/ 6H Venus

Skincare products, a blender for smoothies, lots of cleaning products, multi purpose aesthetic storage containers, Quora or chat gpt subscription (these guys like to be well informed), give them scientifically researched bath products that have all that vitamin breakdown qualities, make them a notion template to help them plan, quality office supplies like a desk organiser or chair, practical fitness gear like a yoga mat, a fitness tracker, get them a personal nutritionist, tailored meal prep services, bookshelf organiser system, a stylish briefcase, home office makeover (BUT PLEASE GET THEIR PERMISSION FIRST), online course subscription, digital subscription to news feed, you can never go wrong with practical things, an ikea haul, Costco membership, minimalist decor, multi vitamins, a precision watch, set of labelling and sorting tools, a neat tidy chess board, get them a nice little pet, honestly for some reason whenever I think of Virgos I think of matcha. Get them something matcha based.

Virgo Venus natives need gifts that resemble their routine and organisation, they can be rather difficult to purchase for since they have such a specific taste in mind. Gift cards are practical for them but they really need something that allows them to be more prepared. Take them out for comparison price shopping like say if you want to get them a sofa tell them you’ll take them out to Costco, Amazon, ikea, and compare the best ones. They are also very clean and efficient.

Libra Venus/ 7H Venus

Trending Make up like the fenty hot chocolit heat lip gloss, Korean skincare products, beautiful piece of art, a wedding ring 😏, bouquet of flowers, take them to a beautiful botanical garden, fashionable accessories like a silk scarf, books and courses on design, take them to a couples romantic date, a couples workshop, write them a love letter, museum date, tickets to an art exhibition, fine dining, an astrology synastry reading, if they’re single set up a blind date with someone who you KNOW they would like (make sure they’re handsome/pretty), couples retreat, love coach Patreon subscription, pottery/painting classes, relationship podcast subscription, relationship psychology books, fine fragrance/cologne

Libra is ruled by Venus and 7th house, all things related to love beauty and pleasure align with this native, even if they are single they have a natural gift for delving into relationships. Make sure that whatever gift you give them it is pleasing and sensual

Scorpio/ 8H Venus

Intimate gifts, a psychological crime documentary playlist like Epstein island documentary or YouTubers who speak of renowned cult leaders, personalised astrology reading, a dark seductive fragrance, dark artwork, dominance and submission guide book, shadow work journal with a lock on it, dark poetry and literature, escape room adventure tickets, monopoly game, dungeons and dragons game equipment, bdsm accessories, personalised erotic art, leather/latex clothing, bonding activities, empowering books like 48 Laws of Power, martial arts training, taxidermy, personal development workshops, intense workout equipment like a punching bag, chess, daggers, locks on their door or for their belongings like installing a lock for their drawers, buy them a ring camera and subscription, wine tasting experience

Give them something sultry and deep, it has to be psychological and empowering. They are not impressed by superficial gifts that mean nothing to them. They really like gifts that allow them to explore their nature and the darker aspects of existence.

Sagittarius/ 9H Venus

A scratch off map that allows you to scratch off countries you’ve been to, a surprise holiday where you take them abroad, Duolingo subscription, a wanderlust journal for them to document their experiences, passport accessories, an electric guitar, drums, take them to a fireworks display or do one at home for them, a telescope, a drone, binoculars, philosophical books or religious books based on their own beliefs and religion, running shoes, horse riding in the sunset experience, musical instruments, motivational and positive affirmations book or make some for them yourself, a book collection of all their motivational and positive messages they have said, a compass, pay for their tuition for a course they’ve always wanted, traveling stuff like suitcases, pillow for travelling, a portable flask, a disposable camera, a Polaroid camera, a tent, tickets to a cultural festival, hiking gear, skiing gear, camping gear, sketchbook, a donation in their name

Sagittarius Venus and 9H venuses love the concept of exploration whether it be in the mind or physically, the best gift you could give them is one that allows them to take in so much culture, information and experiences.

Capricorn/ 10H Venus

Customisable credit card (CUCU is a good site for this), a nice power suit like business attire, vintage pocket calculator, cufflinks or a tie, formal shoes, pay for their CV to be analysed by professionals in their industry, elegant timeless clothing and jewellery, make them business cards, get them a corporate slave (an assistant will do), pay for business class flights for their next trip abroad, project management courses, tickets to Ted Talk event, take them to and big them up at networking and entrepreneurial opportunities, a sleek desk, submit their work for trophies and awards, quality furniture, Starbucks or their fave coffee place gift cards, a fountain pen, personalised desk name plate, professional photoshoot, designer accessories like a Swiss watch, leather wallet, cheque book, pay for a professional calligrapher to design their signature, time management software

Our sweet cap Venuses and 10Hers need their professional acknowledgment, give them anything timeless and a way for them to better themselves. They love being the best of the best so give them things that support their ambitions.

Aquarius/ 11H Venus

A 3D printer, high tech phone, a gamer console, smart home device like Alexa, chat gpt subscription, AI art pieces of them, rubix cube, VR headset, bespoke one of a kind art piece, tickets to a science technology conference or musem, networking events, phone case, futuristic home decor, membership to an niche club their interested in, mini indoor garden like a plant terrarium, pay for an astronomy stargazing experience for them, alt clothing, goal setting journal, a camaraderie for their friendships can be a bracelet for an example, tickets to a unique workshop according to their niche interests, video editing software, a unique invention prototype for the industry their interested in say if it were cars then a mini Tesla or something, volunteer together, design software, film festival tickets, social cause merchandise, unique fashion piece, astronomy kit, an AI boyfriend or girlfriend, take them a Ted talk.

Always remember the specific niche interests of these natives they like things that are very niche and so sometimes asking them is actually the best thing to do. But make sure it’s something they’re passionate about not all of these natives live tech but they certainly are innovative.

Pisces/ 12H Venus

Seashell necklace, watercolour paints, fantasy book collection, their favourite mangas, handmade artwork, stained glass window art, dream interpretation book, flowerpedia book, vinyls, yoga mat, contact lenses, tickets to their favourite artist like mitski or the sort, create a playlist for them that’s about fantasy and imagination, they might like Disney consider taking them to Disneyland, windchime, subscription to mindfulness app, astrology book, go to the aquarium together, windchimes, art supplies, a dream journal, sound healing instruments, pay for their spiritual retreat, zen garden decor, a mystical music box, water fountain, take them to a mesmerising body of water, prayer mats, diary, write them a heartfelt letter of how amazing they are, take them to a nature retreat, wearable art

Dreamy imaginative gifts would be perfect for these people, they need gifts that allow them to appreciate their escape world where they have a reality that’s just better than here. Give them things that are as beautiful as their inner world.

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foldingfittedsheets · 1 year ago

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One of my earlier jobs in life was at a little pizza place. I worked there when it was first starting up. It’s the only job I’ve ever been fired from and it was because a new manager came in and cleaned house. Because my state requires a reason to be fired he said I used too much pepperoni. So now on job applications I get to write that I was fired for “excessive use of pepperoni.” Never fails to get a laugh.

Anyway! For this story to make sense I’ve first got to set the stage. This pizza place started out as the Wild West of management but one of the original investors was super committed to work programs through the prison. We hired a ton of ex convicts and they were all, to a one, super hyped on Christianity. Like born again for the sole purpose of lauding Christ with their every breath.

I hadn’t been working there long but I’d definitely noticed the Jesus bug had gone around, and as I’ve never been religious at all I tried to steer clear of the topic for my own safety.

The day our story takes place, I was folding boxes. Anyone whose ever worked pizza can attest, there’s so much box folding. It’s something that happens at every lull, the pizza machine demands box folding on a grand and epic scale.

On my right folding his stack of boxes was a guy wider than he was tall, made of pure muscle, Corey. He was newer on staff, and due to a stutter he didn’t talk much. All I knew about him was that he got hired through the rehabilitation program and had done time.

On my left folding was a tall middle-aged woman who loved to yell at me, Cindy. She and I rubbed each other the wrong way and had nothing in common, leading to a tense working relationship.

We folded boxes in silence. This was really my best case scenario as a quiet Cindy was a Cindy not riding my ass, and Corey intimidated me.

But the weight of the silence grew too much for Cindy, who finally said, “I really want to go to bible school.”

I folded a box. I had less than no idea what bible school even was and I didn’t want to get sucked into a religious topic.

On my right Corey said, “W-why, Cindy?”

“Well, cause I believe what’s in the Bible, but I just don’t know it all.”

He nodded sagely to this.

Cindy continued, “And every time I sit down to read the Bible I get real sleepy. And I know it’s the devil.”

It’s so hard to convey her tone in written format. It was delivered with the emphasis and exasperation of an inevitable inconvenience. Like, I just know it’s the squirrels eating the bird seed.

I froze in place at this pronouncement. My only exposure to Lucifer was Neil Gaiman’s Sandman comics and I was trying to mentally twist into a frame of mind where The Morningstar cared enough about this one middle aged lady expanding her knowledge of the Bible that he followed her around cursing her with sleepiness when she picked it up.

I think I expected Corey to say, “Well that’s silly,” or something to acknowledge what a bizarre thing Cindy had just said.

Instead he said, “Yeah!” In a tone of complete agreement.

I didn’t look up. I tried to keep my face neutral at this development.

But something must have shown. Corey said, “You don’t believe in God?”

I shrugged casually and said, “If I did I wouldn’t talk about it at work.”

“C-cause it’s t-true. If y-you t-ry to r-read the B-bible on unsanctif-fied gr-round the d-devil m-makes you s-sleepy!”

I made a noncommittal sound and fled into the back room.

Over the next week it drove me crazy though. The logic of it wouldn’t leave me alone so finally one day when it was just Corey and I in front, and the restaurant was empty, I said, “Hey man, I have a question.”

He shrugged and listened.

“I really don’t mean this with any disrespect, I just genuinely want to know about the logistics-“

“J-ust ask.”

“Okay, so if Cindy gets tired when she reads any book, is it only the devil making her tired when it’s the Bible?”

His face went purple with fury and he yelled, “F-fuck you!” at my retreating back as I fled once more into the back room.

It will forever remain a mystery.

#ramblies #story #funny #as a caveat I don’t mean this story with any offense if you’re religious #but I think to assume that you’re being targeted specifically by a cosmic entity who rivals god is an insane hubris #the idea of a devil is already wild cause like he punishes bad people in the mythos so it seems like he's committed to people #paying for bad behavior rather than trying to trick them into it? but everyone treats lucifer like a boogey man which is weird to me #ffs foibles

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hello-there · 5 days ago

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Communities are a new way to connect with the people on Tumblr who care about the things you care about! Browse Communities to find the perfect one for your interests or create a new one and invite your friends and mutuals!

#tumblr communities #communities

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iwritethingssometimes · 2 months ago

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I'm seeing some posting about a feeling of fishiness about the recently completed US Election.

In the attempt to do something more productive than my last post, I'm gonna do an adhoc examination of how feasible I think a "rigged election" actually is, looking at a few methods that could have been used. So, to start with, what is the actual evidence here?

Most of it is... honestly vibes based, which I get, but don't put a lot of stock in, There was a lot of energy around the Harris campaign, and she had some good polls, but Donald Trump has proved nothing else in the past fucking decade, its that the polls literally do not matter for him, and he can outperform them by a hundred miles.

But. There's also some numbers.

None of this has been verified yet, and I want to make that clear, but this year has largely reported record turnout in a ton of states, especially the swing states, and yet, so far.

The number of votes seems much lower this year.

Not republican votes, not democrat votes, all votes. Hell, third party voting collapsed this year--whatever else you take from this election, this was not a case of the left splitting the vote.

Now, it's true that the vote count hasn't been completed, and it's possible that the numbers will make more sense once that's done. It's also true that the states didn't have quite the same turn-out as last year... but it was only a percentage point or two lower.

Add that to the frequent postings about people having their ballots rejected for... questionable reasons, and.

Well. It starts going from a "the moon is fake!" conspiracy to "Epstein had sex slaves" conspiracy.

But, okay, is it even possible for Trump to have faked the vote like this? People talked about it, but it was mostly in terms of legal challenges trying to overturn a Harris victory, or pulling in the supreme court to decide narrow districts. This, by all accounts, seems to be a straight forward Trump sweep.

So if there is shenanigans afoot, how could he have done it?

There's three feasible(ish) pathways, in my opinion:

Voter suppression and manipulation pre-ballot: Yeah this happened. It's also irrelevant to any possibility that the vote counts were tampered with. Look, this election was flooded with misinformation, legal suits, court cases, and election officials doing everything in their power to fuck with people's right to vote. It was filled with ballot boxes being lit on fire. Elon Musk did a fucking paid vote scheme! Of course there was voter suppression! But there always is, and although it was worse this year than many others, it wouldn't cause any numerical mismatch between turn out and votes, and there's not much that can be done now for this election. Even if someone voted because Musk slipped them $100, no court will ever be able to prove they didn't just happen upon $100 bucks and then voted for Trump.

Voting machines were manipulated: A few hours ago I would have said this was practically impossible, but apparently a bunch of election officials and cyber-security experts were sounding the alarm about this a few months ago, so, uh. That being said, I've seen people claiming that Starlink or whatever hacked voting machines, and no. No, Starlink did not hack voting machines. No one "hacked" voting machines. They weren't connected to the internet, or any wireless communication systems, because anyone with any degree of cybersecurity knowledge will tell you that's how you create an insecure system. Now, it's not impossible, technically speaking, than Elon Musk or fucking Russia managed to hire engineers and somehow bribe enough officals to get access to the machines and install hardware that would allow external access, but in that case we live in a Bond movie and somehow have bigger problems. So, if the voting machines themselves were compromised in any technological way, it would have required direct, physical access, which should be basically impossible, unless...

Ballot officials fucked with the vote This is the one I think is plausible. Basically, in this case, what could have happened is that various election officials at different levels of the process more or less lied about the vote count. This could have happened in a lot of different ways--they could have found reasons to reject mail-in ballots, which several states attempted to make legal, they could have found reasons to reject in-person ballots, which several states attempted to make legal. They could have, if the corruption ran deep enough to make this feasible, just... not counted or reported votes that swung for Harris. They could have, if the election machines work similar to the ones up here in BC, seen the results from the machines, then called the central election office over the phone--because remember, the ballot boxes should not be connected to anything. I don't know. There's a lot of options, and it varies from state to state, because remember, each state runs their own elections, and has their own rules and procedures.

So yeah, three explanations, only one of which is really plausible.

Now, I want to be clear, I don't think this election was fraudulent. Not yet, at least, I need to see actual evidence, or this is nothing more than a theory, but I also want to be clear.

...3 makes sense.

3 would explain why urban areas seemed to be underrepresented in this election, while rural areas surged. 3 would explain a discrepancy between voter turn out and votes counted. 3 would fit the strategy Trump and MAGA loyalists have been describing for the last four years, of infiltrating the election machinery and manipulating it to their own ends.

So I'm not saying it's likely that Trump fucked with the vote, not without evidence. Not yet.

But I will say this looks a hell of a lot more plausible than any claims made in the aftermath of the 2020 election.

#us elections #american politics #elections 2024 #2024 recount

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aethon-recs · 6 months ago

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Themed Rec List | 16 Sex Work Tomarrymort Recs 🍑💸

After coming across a couple of sexy amazing stripper/camboy/sex worker Tomarry fics recently, I went looking for more fics along this theme 🤍 See below for a list of recs for all the other horny sickos out there who really enjoy reading about Tom or Harry leveraging their physical assets for pleasure or money or sometimes even reconnaissance, 8 of each:

Sex Worker Tom

A Slice of Heaven by jellybeantarot (M, 3k, complete)

Tom is a sex worker under an agency that masks as a pizzeria, Harry orders a large sausage pizza, and yep, that's a dick in a pizza box.

After Class by osculatrix (E, 5k, complete)

Professor Potter discovers that her star student is a camstar, and what does she do? Jack off and give him money, that's what.

cam and get it by @swoontodeath (E, 3k, WIP)

Harry Potter isn't one for pornography. He's got a perfectly adequate imagination, thank you very much, not to mention a fully functional right hand. One accidental glimpse of Tom Riddle's arse, though, threatens to change everything.

champagne shimmer by @cindle-writes (E, 21k, complete)

Tom has one of the most popular accounts on OnlyFans. Harry, who is Tom’s uni professor, stumbles onto Tom’s stream by accident. Featuring: Spoiled brat Tom, and Harry trying to be as much of a gentleman as he can despite lusting after his barely-legal student.

Corruptible by @hiredhorse (E, 4k, WIP)

Harry Potter goes to Knockturn Alley for a prostitute, under a flawless glamour. When he sees a handsome young man outside the tavern infamous for picking up prostitutes, he hires him before he even asks his price. Tom Riddle isn’t really a prostitute, he was just making a delivery for his employer, Borgin & Burke’s. But Tom has never been one to miss an opportunity, and he sees Harry Potter for exactly who he is.

down to get the friction on by @xodahafez (E, 8k, complete)

Harry follows Tom to Albania, fully expecting to find him up to no good. What he wasn't expecting, however, was to find Tom Riddle dressed in lacy black lingerie, and better known as 'Voldamour.'

Oh my god, they were nemeses by Baryshnikov (T, 13k, WIP)

Tom starts an OnlyFans to recruit for his cult; Harry, his flatmate, has incredibly mixed feelings about it.

That's Money, Honey by @dividawrites, @duplicitywrites (E, 10k, complete)

Tom is a dear friend to many beautiful older women who love to treat him like their beloved son by spoiling him with presents. It is the perfect gateway to the perfect lifestyle—one full of frequent spa days, free holidays abroad, and all of the latest fashions. When Auror Harry Potter claims to be investigating Tom's 'inappropriate' relationships, Tom decides the best course of action is to instigate some 'inappropriate' behaviour of his own.

Sex Worker Harry

Cam for the Money, Stayed for the Fun (part 1) / Cam and Get Me, Won't You Honey? (part 2) by @itsevanffs (E, 12k, complete)

Harry flushed, looking back down. 'Isn't this illegal, sir?' Professor Riddle smirked, leaning back on the couch. 'I'd beg to say what you do isn't very legal, either.'

Dark Adrenaline by @katsitting (E, 10k, complete)

Riddle was a snake—definitely. A conniving man that forced people into corners simply because he wanted to see if he could. He cared little for the feelings of others, using them just as he was using Harry to attract the attention of the political socialites in the Gala. Harry had suspected there was a far more hidden game at play when he had been in the hotel with him earlier, having caught that Riddle had set his machinations on him rather than on prominent figures in the hall. But how the bloody hell was he supposed to know it would end up like this?

Make Me An Offer I Cannot Refuse by lemonchase (E, 3k, complete)

“I’d like to hire you for a blowjob.” Harry nods slowly, ignoring his increasing heart rate. If he does a good job, Tom might become a regular customer, and Harry is always on the lookout for those. With how rich Tom allegedly is, he should be able to afford to pay Harry every other day. This is a chance he doesn’t get often.

Night Walker by @syntheticsoulmates (E, 3k, complete)

Harry knocked on the door only two minutes late. Which was an achievement for him. He had his smile fixed before the door even swung open. “You’re not who I ordered.” Ugh. Rude. Harry kept smiling, perfect. “No. Emergency substitution.” He looked down, traced the client up from the tips of his perfectly overshined leather loafers to the one ridiculous perfect curl falling over his forehead on the left side. He made it obvious, finished it up with a small bite on his lower lip. “You’re lucky enough to get me instead.”

Ride by @hiredhorse (E, 123k, WIP)

Harry lives with the Dursleys, but he has two best friends, a regular bunk at the Weasleys', and a bright future riding horses. It’s unclear whether crossing paths with Tom Riddle, super-rich kid and a skilled horseman himself, is good luck or bad. They crash together on the day they meet with a violent combination of mutual lust and personality conflicts. And yet somehow instead of hating each other they develop different feelings, no less intense.

Secrets of a Wixen Call Boy by @milkandmoon-ao3 (E, 12k, complete)

Echoing in the darkest recess of his mind, Harry heard Hermione lecture on his father complex. How, having never known his own father, he tended to fixate on older men... subsequently resulting in some pretty questionable romantic partners. Really, Harry couldn’t think of a good reason not to fuck or be fucked by them.

Shiver, Lustre, Skin by @monsieurclavier (M, 9k, WIP)

Harry goes undercover as a bargirl at one of Tom Riddle’s exclusive clubs. Tom has her figured out in approximately one second. Or: In which Tom is a badass Wizarding mob boss and an incorrigible lesbian flirt, and Harry—sassy newbie Auror and secret virgin—is just Tom’s type.

Twelve Weeks by @ohyondermemphis (M, 12k, WIP)

“Stand up.” Harry blinks, confused but immediately stands at the request. “Place your hands, flat, to the desk.” Indignation blooms bright in his cheeks, but he swallows, does as he’s told. Thinks with vitriol, prick. “See? Easy.” A bright smile, full white teeth. Riddle leans closer to Harry, his hand traces the curve of his face, the line of his jaw. Harry doesn’t blink. “I knew you could be a good boy.”

#tomarrymort #tomarry #aethon recs #tomarry recs #tomarrymort recs #hp fic recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs

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allfryam · 1 year ago

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the office part 2

Jason was loving his new job. All of the people were great, he barely did any work, and he was never hungry. Speaking of hungry, it was lunchtime and him and Connor were going down to the food court. Jason ordered 3 double cheeseburgers, a large shake, a side of Mac and cheese, and some fries. “Do you want anything?” He asked Connor.

after gorging on enough food to feed a family of three, Jason leaned back in his chair, revealing a sliver of his smooth belly under his shirt. Jason had gained over 25 pounds in the first month working at the office. He had yet to notice because he was convinced he was still perfectly in shape. He tugged his shirt back over his belly and let out a big burp. “I think these shirts shrink after a bit.” He said. “Yeah. Same happened to mine.” Said Connor. “You should come over to my place later.” Connor said. He explained the new x-box game he just got to Jason. Jason wasn’t all that interested until Connor mentioned pizza. “I’ll be there at 6.”

arriving at Connor’s apartment, Jason noticed 6 large pizzas sitting on the counter. His mouth was already watering. They sat down to play the new game and dig into the pizzas. Connor had easily eaten the first pizza, but he was struggling on the second one. “Man I’m full”. He said. “Oh well. More for me” Jason quickly grabbed the box and grabbed two slices at a time, one in each hand, guzzling down the slices as fast as he could. He was like a machine. He didn’t even slow down until after he finished the third box. He hated wasting food so he kept eating but it wasn’t easy. He got another few slices in before he had to take a break. “Yo do you care if I take my shirt off? It’s kinda hot in here”. “Ya sure man”. Jason took off his skin tight shirt and revealed his tight stomach. It was round and soft and sat just on top of his belt. His chiseled pecs were growing softer too. They began to sag and get bigger they were almost all the way to his belly. He took off his belt and unbuttoned his tight pants. His growing gut surged forward with a groan. “Fuuuuucckk”. “That feels so much better”. He burped and grabbed another slice of pizza.

by the end of the night, there were still 5 or 6 slices of pizza left but both boys were stuffed. “Dude I think I can eat them but I need help”. Jason said. “help?” “ yeah. Just help me eat these.” “Ok.”

Connor grabbed a slice and walked over to Jason. Jason leaned back and closed his eyes. Connor shoved the slice into Jason’s mouth as far as he could. Jason mindlessly chewed and groaned as he ate. Connor continued the cycle until there was one slice left. Jason’s belly was taut and red. It looked like a balloon that was inflated too much. “Uuuugghhh” Jason moaned. But Connor didn’t stop. He stuffed the last piece into Jason’s mouth and forced him to chew. After what seemed like hours, Jason finally swallowed and finished the pizza. He had eaten four and a half LARGE pizzas all by himself. He promptly passed out on Connors couch with his stomach grumbling in pain.

A very similar routine would occur for the next month and Jason loved it. He got to steal some delicious donuts from the break room, have an enormous lunch with Connor and then go back to Connor’s place and play video games and eat some more takeout. Jason’s frame was quickly expanding, and he had no clue. He had started to notice a few changes however. He couldn’t fit into his work pants anymore so he would leave them unbuttoned and hire it under his shirt. He had gone through three sizes of shirts since he got the job, but he still believed his dryer was shrinking them. Jason had no idea he was over 50 pounds heavier than he was just a few months ago, and Connor liked it that way.

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jumpandmove · 5 months ago

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Boxing Machine Rental

Rent a top-of-the-line boxing machine for your next event or party. Our Boxing machine rental service provides hours of entertainment for guests of all ages. With adjustable speed levels and a sturdy design, this machine is perfect for beginners and experienced boxers alike.

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#uk #Boxing Machine Rental #Boxing machine birmingham #Boxing machine hire

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kappaboxes · 2 months ago

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HIRING FOR MACHINE OPERATORS!

#HIRING FOR MACHINE OPERATORS!#jobs #hiring #KappaBoxes #customgifts #Packaging #RigidBoxes#Branding #Printing #CustomPackaging4allOccasions&Businesses #ExportQualityPackaging #Follow Us On:#Instagram - @kappaboxes #Linkedin - www.linkedin.com/company/kappa-boxes

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zepskies · 1 year ago

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Strong as Blood - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out?

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

AN: Did you like Part 1? Well, here's Part 2! This two-part fic can be read as stand-alone, but it’s really a bonus sequel to Break Me Down!

(Also, for those of you in the medical field…try to suspend your disbelief on this one. 😅)

Word Count: 6,200

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff overload.

To find the chronological reading order for the series, check out the series masterlist. ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down

Part 2: “One Year, Forty, and a Hundred”

About a week later, you and Ben told your family the good news.

Your mom, Marie, took Ben’s face in her hands and pressed a delighted motherly kiss on his cheek, and then his forehead.

He very narrowly tolerated it with his usual gruffness, but you knew better. You saw the fond glint well hidden in his eyes, even after Marie released him.

It hadn’t taken her long after meeting Ben to start treating him like a son; always asking about his missions with Supe Affairs, praising a job well done when he had a successful report, and offering a supportive word even when they didn’t quite go his way.

Ben maintained his usual stoic bravado, but you knew he secretly ate up the praise, along with Marie’s genuine, nurturing nature.

Every time you saw your mother, she would give you baked goods in tupperware—for both of you, she claimed. But you noticed they were most often his favorites. You had a feeling she’d won him over early on with her macadamia nut brownies. (She still couldn’t cook worth a damn either, but she’d been taking a baking class.)

So Ben continued to help her do the dishes, even though she insisted he was a guest in her home. He claimed he was doing it so you wouldn’t jump in yourself.

And now we’re family, you had pointed out. Then Ben gifted you with one of those smiles, subtle and pleased, just for you.

You felt somewhat lazy, just sitting at the kitchen table with your sister Luisa. She sat close to you with her arm looped around yours, and she rubbed your lower back, which you now realized had been aching more often. For God’s sake, you hadn’t even realized you were late on your period.

I need to take some time off work, even before this kid gets here, you mused.

Realistically though, you should’ve expected this might happen. You hadn’t ever gotten around to replacing your IUD after you’d gotten it removed a few months ago. And God knew, Ben didn’t know how to pull out. (And he certainly didn’t buy condoms.)

“What’re you hoping for, a boy or a girl?” Louisa asked you and Ben, disrupting the path of your thoughts. You turned to your sister thoughtfully.

She still had her reservations about him, but she seemed to be warming up to your boyfriend a bit more after you told her the news. Especially after Ben had explained one of his plans over dinner.

His first thought was to hire Frank and Loco back as your personal security throughout your pregnancy, and likely even afterwards.

It was a rare time when you didn’t argue with him; the idea made sense, especially if you were going to continue working in Surveillance at Supe Affairs until you went on maternity leave. And, it would just be great to see them again. Frank had already agreed to start on Monday, after giving his polite congratulations.

(You and Ben each got a package in the mail yesterday: a box of bonafide Cuban cigars for him, a maternity body pillow for you, and a hand-crafted toy box for the baby. Inside had been a white noise sound machine to help the baby sleep.)

But now, Ben brightened at Louisa’s question. He crossed his arms and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“A son,” he replied. How brow rose, as if the answer was obvious. “I’ll be able to bring him up right. Strong. Not like these beanie-wearing pussies running the fucking Starbucks.”

“Ben,” you warned. He crossed his arms at you, quite literally standing firm on his stance. But your mother just smiled and pat his arm.

“It’s okay, honey,” she said. “I understand what you mean.”

You raised an incredulous brow.

Oh sure, you thought. She didn’t mind salty language when it was Ben, but God forbid you or Luisa bang a toe in your mother’s presence. Nor did it surprise you that she was agreeing with him.

But then Marie turned to him more earnestly.

“The way you take care of my daughter, I have no doubt you’ll make an excellent father,” she told him.

Ben treated her with a charming smile that showed touches of warmth.

Damn, you thought, as you felt the telltale burn of tears in your eyes. But it wasn’t just about what Marie had said. You had hoped for this one day, but it seemed he was finally making room for your family in his heart too.

“Football. A man’s game,” Ben continued. “I’ll teach him, take him fishing. Everything my old man didn’t bother with, I’ll do it all. Bring him up right…”

As your boyfriend chatted away with your mom, you hid a tendril of worry. You wondered what would happen if the baby turned out to be a girl.

With a glance at your sister, her subtle, raised brows told you she was thinking along the same lines. You sighed and got up; once again, it was time to pee.

Louisa followed you into the hall and laid a hand on your back.

“Hey,” she said. “You know how much I care about you, right?”

“And where’s this going?” you quipped. But you turned around and gave your little sister a half-smile. You knew what she was about to say.

“So what are you going to do about that?” she asked, gesturing to your man in the kitchen. “Mr. Macho wants his prized stud. What happens if he doesn’t get him?”

You sighed. “Ben’s wanted this for a long time. He’s got an idea in his head of what it’s going to be like, and…we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Louisa’s lips pursed, like she wasn’t quite satisfied with that answer.

“And what about you?” she asked. “How do you feel about this?”

You blinked back at her in slight surprise, but then your expression melted into a soft smile.

“I’m happy, Lou,” you said. Tears welled up in your eyes, yet again. “I’m really happy.”

Louisa relented then, squeezing your hand. “Good…then good. I’m happy for you too.”

And that was really all you wanted.

“What? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Ben said, peering harder at the ultrasound. The kind OBGYN faltered, though she again tried to point out that what he was looking at was actually a small foot.

“Congratulations,” she told you both. “She’s the right size for twelve weeks of development. And look there, you can even see the umbilical cord—”

“You sure this thing isn’t on the fritz?” Ben asked, bumping the ultrasound monitor with his hand.

“Ben.” You looked over at him with a glare. “Are you serious right now?”

He looked back over at you, and you saw his stubbornness in his frown and knitted brows.

“I’m just saying—” he started, but you didn’t let him get that far.

“You heard the freakin’ doctor. We’re having a girl,” you snapped. “I’m the one who has the transvaginal probe shoved up inside me, so shut the fuck up!”

Ben’s jaw worked as he barely held himself from barking back at you. It wouldn’t be the first time you levied your smart mouth at him, but it wasn’t often that you disrespected him.

“Excuse me?” he still groused.

His anger got waylaid though. He watched you heave a sigh and blink quickly, so you wouldn’t release the well of frustrated tears building behind your eyes.

The doctor looked between you both warily. You turned to her with watery eyes, and you sniffed to keep your emotions at bay.

“Continue, please.”

When the appointment with the OBGYN was done, you didn’t let Ben help you down from the examining table. Nor did you let him touch you, all the way to the car.

An hour later, you both made it back to the apartment you shared in Scarsdale. You stomped up the stairs ahead of him and beelined into the bedroom. You had half a mind to slam the door in his face, but you didn’t have the energy to be that petty.

Frankly, you were exhausted with a tinge of nausea. But you didn’t know if that was pregnancy sickness, or if you were just that anxious.

You sat down on your side of the bed, and you sighed when you heard Ben’s heavy footsteps enter in behind you.

“All right, that could’ve gone better,” he said. “But look at it from my point of view—”

That nearly unhinged you. Your stomach roiled, but you got to your feet and turned around to face him where he stood by the foot of the bed, arms crossed.

“It’s not all about you,” you shot back. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the one carrying this baby. I’m not just a human incubator.”

“I fucking know that,” he retorted, but you raised a hand to silence him.

“And you’re not the only one who’s wanted this,” you said. Against your will, your eyes once again burned with tears as you held yourself. “You know very well what I’ve…that I didn’t have a normal family growing up.”

Ben quieted. His irritation softened around the edges, especially as your voice trembled.

“Don’t you know what it’s going to mean to me to give our child what I didn’t have?” you asked. “Stability, support, and…and love, from both parents?”

Tears slipped down your cheeks. And when he didn’t seem to have anything to say to you, you shook your head and walked away.

Ben let out a heavy breath. He followed you and stopped you in the living room. “Listen—”

“No, you listen,” you snapped, whirling around on him. “I would’ve been content no matter if it was a boy or a girl, and you ruined that today. You really did.”

His gaze briefly fell to the floor, before it met yours again.

“But even with that, I’m still happy,” you said, as your vision became blurry and wet. “I’m so damn happy…and so scared.”

When you finally broke down crying, Ben got a full picture of just how badly he’d fucked this up. He collected you in his arms and guided you to sit with him on the couch. There he held you as you clung to him and wept into his neck.

The longer it went on, the more he felt like an asshole—with the kind of uncomfortable, gut-churning remorse that only you tended to draw from him.

Ben hesitated, but he knew you deserved to hear him say it. (And you probably wouldn’t let this go until he did.)

“Okay, sweetheart, calm down,” he rumbled in your ear. Along with, "…I’m sorry."

The weight of that fell between you for a moment. You nodded, with a sniff, and he slowly rubbed your back.

“You don’t need to be scared,” he said. “My blood’s making you nice and strong.”

Well, technically it was the baby’s blood, and the super genes they held. You shook your head against his neck.

“That’s not it,” you said. “I mean, that’s part of it, I guess. Dr. Baker didn’t do a great job of reassuring me, but she did say that if the strength lasts throughout the birth, she didn’t expect serious complications.”

Fuck. Ben’s hand tightened in your hair. That...was a thought he hadn't considered. It now made his stomach clench, though he remained silent.

He wished you would’ve taken him with you to see Dr. Baker, but he guessed he couldn’t begrudge you for your worries. He knew he'd be having his own talk with the good doctor soon enough.

“I love my mom. She did her best, you know? But I…I’ve had to take care of myself for most of my life,” you explained, with a hand fisted tight in his shirt. “What the hell do I know about being a mom?”

Ben considered that with a frown. He pulled back enough to see your face, tucking his curled fingers beneath your chin so you’d look at him.

“You looked after your sister, didn’t you?” he reminded. “Made sure she was safe, and grew up right. Now you take care of me, like I take care of you… And you got no problem calling me out on my bullshit.”

That got a slight smile out of you. He brushed away another one of your tears with his thumb.

“You’re gonna be great, sweetheart. I never had any doubts about that,” he said, “The truth is, I couldn’t wait to fuck you raw to make this happen.”

You spluttered a laugh then, even though you were still weeping.

“Yeah, I know,” you said with a wry smile, stroking his bearded cheek. You leaned up and kissed the other cheek. He turned his head and went for your lips. The kiss was slow and tender while he held you where you always felt safe.

Ben grasped the hand on his cheek…and an idea flickered through his mind.

He parted from you, only to say, “Wait here.”

Your brows furrowed, and you blinked through wet lashes. “What?”

“Just stay put for me,” he said.

But he didn’t tell you what he was up to as he left you on the couch to duck into the bedroom. You took the time to wipe at your eyes and take some deep, calming breaths.

Ben came back soon after, seemingly empty-handed as he sat down next to you. You gave him a curious look.

He slipped a hand into his pocket. “Just for the record, I’ve had this for a while.”

And he pulled a black velvet box out of his pocket. You let out a shaky breath of surprise. The ring he pulled out wasn’t a flashy, gaudy thing like you half-expected. It actually looked delicate, and vintage, pale gold with filigree around the hexagonal stone. It glittered, even in the dim lamplight.

“Where’d you find that?” you asked. But somehow, looking into his eyes, you knew what this was.

“Besides those old pictures, the only thing I’ve got left of my mother is right here,” he said, holding up the ring for you. More burgeoning tears fell down your cheeks as your heart constricted.

“Marry me,” he said, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand.

Despite yourself, a smile raised the corner of your mouth. “Hmm, I don’t know. Is that a question?”

Ben released a breath. Reluctantly, he smirked.

“Fucking figures that you’d make this difficult,” he said.

“You’re the one who fumbled at the goal line, Romeo,” you replied cheekily.

You then gestured at the ground in front of you. He raised a brow.

But, he obliged your demands, making a show of sliding from the couch, down to the ground. He parted your jean-clad knees so he could move in between them. He knelt one knee on the hard wood, and once again took your hand.

Ben somehow hesitated on the question, even though you both were hanging on his words. With your free hand, you smoothed his hair away from his eyes, subtly encouraging him.

“If I had to go back, do it all over again,” he said, “I wouldn’t have done a damn thing different.”

You frowned at him. “Really?”

“That’s right,” he said. “Because I’m right where I want to be.”

You teared up all over again when you realized what he was really saying. You laid a hand on his chest, where his fiercest power resided. He squeezed the hand he held.

“So what’s it gonna be, sweetheart. Will you marry me?” Ben asked. His smirk was almost boyish, despite his age. And yet, it was so very him.

You reached out with your free hand and slid your fingers through his hair, resting it at the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” you agreed, with a beaming smile. “Let’s do it.”

He slipped the ring on your finger, where it fit well. And it was now the most beautiful thing you owned, not only for its shining beauty.

You pulled him in for a kiss. His hands burned up your thighs, squeezing your hips. But again, he hesitated. His lips pulled away from yours as his hand moved to brush your belly. It was already brimming with life. He’d seen the images, heard the heartbeat.

“Thank you,” Ben said. His voice was deep and gruff.

You smiled. With a nod, you held him to you, laying a sweet path of kisses from his cheek, down to his neck.

“I love you,” you said.

He just nodded in response. His throat was tight at the moment. But you wouldn’t let him get off that easy.

“Say it,” you jostled him in your arms. “I’m only growing a super melon for you.”

It earned you an amused look from him.

“I love you too,” he said. His voice was a bit coarse, and laden with rare emotion. You pulled him into a stronger hug, which soon became him dragging you into his lap when he raised himself up onto to the couch. You took his face in your hands.

“See? We made it here,” you teased. You knew he remembered the conversation you two had a few months ago, about waiting a little while to take this next step in your relationship. To have a family.

“Soon. Not someday,” he’d told you. And you’d agreed.

You reminded him of it now while you stroked his face. “I promised you, didn’t I?”

He snorted at that. “You sure took your fucking time with that one, huh?”

“Excuse me?” you retorted.

Ben pulled you into a kiss before you could truly get going. Arguing with him was one of the things you did best.

But what you two ended up doing on the couch was second to none.

A few months later…

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ben said. His tone was edged, his brows crunching. “What kind of development?”

You curled a hand around his wrist, shooting him a calming look before you returned your attention to Dr. Baker.

“What do you mean, Tonya?” you asked. Your other hand continued to rest over your belly.

At the seven-month mark of your pregnancy, you felt like you were beginning to resemble a parade float as you sat on the medical examining table in the doctor’s office. But you were grateful for Ben’s warm hand spanning the small of your back. It gave you stability as a coil of anxiety began to bloom in your chest.

Dr. Baker reviewed her charts once more. You didn’t like that gleam of scientific interest in her eye while she perused the data, then looked up at you and Ben from her narrow-framed glasses.

“Not with the baby. She’s doing very well,” she said.

That gave you a measure of immense relief.

“The development concerns you,” she clarified, meeting your gaze. “As you know, we’ve been monitoring you very closely.”

You nodded. The weekly checkups and monthly blood panels served to both soothe and increase your anxiety, but you knew that it made Ben feel better, that you were being taken care of in this aspect of your pregnancy.

To government knowledge, no one other than Becca Butcher had ever gone through a pregnancy of this nature. And Homelander had been created in a lab. This was breaking somewhat new ground (which was only in the top five of “things that made you nervous.”)

“I found something…interesting in your bloodwork,” said Dr. Baker. She pulled out two charts from her files and clipped them onto her whiteboard for you and Ben to see. They looked virtually the same, with one graph’s red bars slightly lower than the first.

“What’s that?” Ben asked.

“It’s your wife’s cell regeneration levels,” the doctor replied, pointing to the second graph. “Hers have become almost as high as yours.”

She pointed to the first graph for comparison. You leaned in closer to see as your eyes widened. With the weight of your belly making you off balance, you nearly slid off the examining table. Ben noticed and caught you quick. His arms came around you, though as the news donned on him, his face slid into shock.

“What?” he uttered.

“That’s got to be because of the baby,” you reasoned. “Is it…just temporary? Like the super strength.”

Even that was somewhat intermittent. Some days, you felt your aches and pains and experienced morning sickness and food aversions, like any other pregnant woman. On others, you were able to lift one side of the couch one-handed and vacuum up the dust bunnies underneath it.

“I believe that blood transfusion, as well as your pregnancy greatly accelerated the effects, but no, this isn’t an isolated incident.” Dr. Baker shook her head. “Your DNA has mutated.”

“Are you serious?” you nearly choked out. She nodded. Dr. Baker never joked.

“By my calculations, this process started before you conceived. Over the course of the past year, or more,” she explained. “Do you understand what this means?”

“Y-Yes, I think so,” you said. Your hand squeezed over Ben’s; it was the hand that carried the weight of your gold wedding bands. A lump of emotion rose in your throat. “It means…I’m going to heal from injuries quicker than normal. And…I’m not going to age like a normal person.”

“That’s likely correct,” she replied.

That news fell in the room like a stone. You shared a wide-eyed look with Ben. Neither of you knew quite what to think just yet. Even though he was trying to maintain an even-keel expression, you could see his eyes were beginning to brighten with hope. Yours were too…though you were still confused.

“How the hell is this possible?” you asked. “I mean, Ben gave me his blood for a transfusion. But like you said, that was one time, two years ago now. And you said the pregnancy accelerated this, but that’s not how it started…”

Dr. Baker actually smiled. You didn’t like the wry turn of her lips. She crossed her legs where she sat at her desk and tapped her clipboard with her pen.

“How often would you say you two have sex?” she asked.

That was certainly not where you thought this conversation was going. You couldn’t help but blush.

“How is that even remotely relevant?” you asked.

You glanced at your husband, who merely gave you one of his smug smirks, while his thumb stroked your side. Fucking typical.

“Once a week?” the doctor prompted.

Your face heated up further, and you had to cover your mouth with a hand. Your sex life wasn’t quite as…vivacious as it had been since before you’d gotten pregnant, but it was still a good one, even with your growing size. Ben was nothing if not creative.

And you were still newlyweds, after all.

“Assume we’re doing a healthy amount of fucking, doc,” Ben remarked.

You gasped and hit his thigh, and finally covered your whole face in thorough embarrassment. He just smirked and took your hand so you couldn’t hide. It amused him that you still got like this.

He then pressed a kiss to the back of your fingers.

You sighed and held his hand back. I chose this man. Remember that.

“Again, what does that have to with this?” you asked, your voice a bit higher.

Dr. Baker’s lips flickered at another one of those smiles. “Well, how often did you use condoms over the past two years?”

You and Ben both snorted in response.

“He’s morally opposed to them, doctor,” you said dryly.

She nodded. “I assumed as much.”

Once again, Ben smirked, but Dr. Baker plowed ahead.

“Let me explain it this way,” she said. “Think of how HIV spreads sexually. The infected DNA is transmitted, and it eventually hits the partner’s bloodstream, affecting the entire body. What we have here is a similar case…if for the fact that this was a gradual effect, over the course of several months.”

Ben blinked, and a frown also tugged down his brows.

“Are you saying that I gave her my superpowers…like an STD?” he asked.

Your eyes became as wide as saucers.

Holy shit! you thought, and another one occurred to you. If this all started from the first time you and Ben ever had sex…then that was over two years of being dosed with literal super sperm.

“Not quite,” Dr. Baker said to him. “Just the essence of what sets your DNA apart, even from other supes.”

“Right. Because how the hell hasn’t this happened to anyone else who’s normal?” you asked. “What makes Ben different?”

Dr. Baker finally set down her pen. She folded her hands in her lap to address you with a patience that you didn’t often see from her.

“Remember, the serum he received was still a prototype,” she said. “Vought continued to refine the recipe after the ‘Soldier Boy’ project was successful. For example, the way his cells regenerate is one of those factors that needed to be weeded out, if Compound V was to be a successful product in the long-term.”

You nodded slowly, as that made sense to you. If every supe suddenly lived over a hundred years, it would make it pretty hard to secretly inject that shit into newborns. They had to package it in a more insidious way.

“This is an unpredictable outcome of your exposure to his unique genetic makeup,” Dr. Baker continued, “and there may very well be more to come in the future.”

You weren’t sure how to take that potentially foreboding news, but on the other hand…

“Oh my God! I’m going to live to be a hundred,” you said, holding tighter onto Ben as shock began to make you tremble. His grip was firm and steadying in response. And yet, his face betrayed how he was trying to process this as well.

“Likely much longer than that,” Dr. Baker said, shocking you even further. And she reminded, “Your cells aren’t regenerating at quite the same rate as his…but it is close.”

Again, holy fucking shit.

You let out a halting breath, and you looked up at Ben, a smile growing across your face. You reached up a hand for his bearded cheek. He looked down on you with his usual stoicism, but it was merely a front. You saw through to the true emotions shining in his eyes.

“Well, looks like you’re stuck with me, baby,” you said, even as your own eyes stung with tears. Your heart felt full to the brim, and even overflowing. If this was what it took to be with your husband, then altering your genetics was a price you were willing to pay…at least in this way.

Though you gave him a more teasing smile. “You’re not gonna be able to welch out of that ‘til death do us part thing. So cancel the caravan of blow and strippers.”

Ben chuckled deeply. He held your hand and stroked the inside of your wrist. For a moment, he just looked down at your face. It had become a bit more rounded with your pregnancy—thighs and arms (and ass) thicker too. And to him, you were still perfectly his.

“Fine by me. You’ve got something they don’t, anyway,” he said. He remembered the same words he’d said to you just a year ago, in the bed he still shared with you.

Your eyes gleamed with amusement, and so much more. You played along.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” you asked.

He smirked. “You’ve got a supe STD.”

Your eyes widened at his audacity, but you burst out laughing and hit his shoulder.

“Yeah, from you,” you quipped back. “I should’ve known you were carrying something.”

The two of you didn’t know it, but that was when Dr. Baker smiled to herself. She decided then to leave the room, giving you some privacy as Ben laughed and framed your face with his hands.

His thumbs brushed against your cheeks, catching stray tears as they fell. You bit your lip as your glassy eyes met his once more. Ben became more serious as he let out a sigh.

“It’s not gonna be easy,” he reminded you. “Your family, your friends…they’re going to change, and you’re going to stay the same.”

Your excitement dimmed as that realization hit you. Your hands clenched in his shirt, over his chest. You thought about your mom, your sister, Yvette and Devon, Annie and Hughie and the rest of the team (even Butcher, you would miss).

“Yeah…that part’s not gonna be fun,” you said with a heavy, tremulous sigh. Your heart clenched at the very thought of them growing old, leaving you behind.

But your gaze eventually drew back up to him. You wondered then, not for the first time, how it must’ve been for him. For his parents to grow old and pass on long before him. For childhood friends, old lovers…

“Do you know what I worried about when we got married?” you asked.

Ben’s hands traveled down from your face, down your arms, to finally rest at your waist and thigh. He stared back at you expectantly.

“When you first told me you loved me, you said you were holding back the truth. Because you thought that one day, you’d be alone again,” you said, stroking his chest. “That honestly broke my heart. And it made me wonder if I was selfish to be with you anyway.”

Ben frowned, but you shook your head before he could respond.

“I told myself that after the baby was born, I’d go to Dr. Baker and ask her to find a way to make this happen,” you said. Another smile grew across your face. “But guess what? We figured it out all on our own, super stud.”

Ben smiled then, huffing in amusement as he thumbed at your cheek. You couldn’t really understand the full force of his relief. It might’ve threatened to buckle him into a seat, if he had been standing.

But now, he struggled with the warmth in his chest that for once, had nothing to do with his powers. He moved in to tug you into his arms, and he let out a long breath through his nose.

You couldn’t see how his eyes closed, but you felt his lips press against your forehead. You held him close. Or as closely as you could with your belly getting in between.

You rubbed his back and rested against his chest, hearing the calming, steady sound of his heart beating under your ear.

“And at this rate, I might even live longer than you,” you teased. “After all, you got a head start. Compared to you, I’m still a hot young thing.”

Ben snorted and shook his head. “All right. Now you’re pushing it.”

You smirked into his chest.

“I’ll have to figure out where you rent those caravans.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered. At the sound of your giggle, he couldn’t help but smile.

He still swatted you on the ass though.

A couple more months later…

He smelled like cigar smoke. For which you had no doubt, Ben had been puffing away with Frank and M.M. outside the hospital.

The team of doctors (led by Dr. Baker) had finally left you alone with your husband, allowing you to take your first relaxed breath of the day.

“Your mom and your sister are waiting. Blondie and the others are out there too,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “My girl’s got a whole possy of bitches.”

You assumed he meant Annie and the rest of the team.

You shot him a look, but you were careful not to disturb the sleeping newborn resting on your chest, in the crook of your arm.

“They’re my friends, babe,” you whispered. “And they’re your friends now too, you just don’t want to admit it.”

Ben didn’t acknowledge that, but he laid a hand on your shoulder as he sat down on the edge of your hospital bed.

“How’re you doin’, sweetheart?” he asked. “Got everything you need?”

He’d become even more protective, but also very sweet to you in these past several months. More so than you’d thought him capable of, but it warmed you every time, when you considered how rough, how stoic, and how damn-near emotionally repressed he was not so very long ago.

It seemed that fatherhood was beginning to soften him, even before he began. You quirked a smile at the thought, and at his question.

“Imagine pushing a super melon out of your dick. That’s how I’m doing,” you said, tired but still cheeky as ever.

He snorted a bit loudly at that, and you shushed him, as if it wasn’t your fault he was laughing. He expected nothing less from you.

“But I’m okay,” you answered his second question. “All I need right now is you.”

Ben considered you for a moment, a slightly softer smile curving his lips, and he nodded.

“All right,” he said.

Your daughter woke and began to squirm in your arms, prompting Ben to look down at the bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket. Gently as possible, he brushed the tuft of downy brown hair on her head. His hand shook ever so slightly, touching her small cheek.

How can this little thing be mine? he wondered. His lips pressed into a firm line.

There was a thought, deep and thrumming inside him, that he didn’t deserve this. That just a couple of years ago, he had nothing to lose.

And now, his entire world was in this room. He’d never admit it, but it was a terrifying thought, for a man who’d had everything and nothing.

You unknowingly stopped the path of his thoughts when you raised a warm hand to his cheek. It earned his attention, and he grabbed your hand to keep it there.

You smiled up at Ben with weariness in your eyes. The super strength had drained out of you a few moments after the umbilical cord was cut, which had made for a less painful labor than you anticipated. But it had also been a long and uncomfortable eighteen hours.

“Wanna hold her for a while?” you asked.

The offer caught him off guard. His brows drew together, but he very carefully took his daughter from you, into his arms. Despite your temporary abilities throughout your pregnancy, he didn’t know if she already had his strength, or if it was something she’d grow into. Ben didn’t want to take any chances.

As he looked down at a small face that already had some of his features, he inhaled a faltering breath.

It was the first time you ever saw true tears in his eyes, as one managed to draw a path down his cheek. You smiled, and the pair of rings on your left hand caught the lamplight as you rested your hand on your chest.

Ben held the bundle close in the crook of his arm. One of the baby’s hands was free, and he tickled his finger in her palm. She grasped it on reflex, opening her mouth on a yawn. Despite his red and shining eyes, he smiled, especially when she reached up for a strand of his hair with small, grabby fingers.

He let her get a hold of it, smirking when she gave it a little tug. Just hours old, and his girl was already demanding his attention. He didn’t know if newborns were able to do that this early, or if it was her blood that made her special.

Either way, he knew then that she was going to be a handful. Just like you.

Ben glanced over and found you watching him with soft amusement. He looked back down at his daughter and told her the obvious.

“You know, you’re blessed to have my genes, baby girl,” he said. It elicited a knowing scoff out of you. However, his smirk softened. “But you’re also lucky as hell to have your mom.”

Ben looked back at you, and there was the predictable well of tears forming in your eyes.

“She’s the best damn woman you’re ever gonna meet,” he said.

He knew then that what he said to you before was right. If he had to go back to 1984, or even 1944, he’d do it all exactly the same.

It all worked out pretty damn well, from where he was standing.

AN: I’m not crying, you’re crying. 🥹😭

I sincerely hope you enjoyed Strong as Blood. Let me know what you think! And then you can...

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, get ready for some parenting fluff:

Summary: A quiet moment between you, Ben, and your newborn daughter.

▶️ Next Story: Until Morning

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#Strong as Blood #Part 2 #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben x reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x you #fluff #BMD verse #Break me down verse #zepskies writes

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