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kakujis · 3 days ago

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you only call me on the weekend.

warnings: afab!fem reader, situationship, unrequited feelings, oliver can't admit he loves you, praise, creamp*e, implied multiple rounds, that should be it! not proofread.

ft + wc: oliver aiku hehe. around 1.6k

a/n: THIS IS A REPOST! I'm trying to get back into the swing of things, but alas, I am extremely busy with end of semester stuff. This got fl*gged so I'm hoping this repost can make it to more ppl, mwah to all the new Oliver lovers!!

you hate oliver aiku. you hate the missed calls, the times he’s stood you up, and the amount of times he’s left you on read. but when your phone chimed that night and you saw his name etched across the brightly lit screen of your phone, you didn’t hesitate to open it.

oliver♡: hey baby, you free tonight?

don’t respond. don’t fall so easily. don’t give him what he wants. this is the mantra that you tell yourself every time he pops up, whenever the other girls he pursues turns him down and he tries to come crawling back to you for the sake of getting his dick wet.

but you’re weak for him and that’s why you respond without fail every time.

y/n: i might be. why?

you bite your lip, fuck, you know why.

oliver♡: i miss you, pretty girl. that’s why. let me come over, yeah?

that stupid phrase has your thighs rubbing together and you can feel your resolve, what little you had anyway, cracking.

y/n: mm, dunno.

oliver♡: you don’t miss me?

say no, your mind screams, for once, don’t let him get his way.

y/n: …maybe a little.

oliver♡: be there soon, <3.

y/n: that doesn’t mean come over!

you sigh, frowning and turning your phone off before tossing it to the side. you try to immerse yourself back into the show you were watching, but the prospect of oliver coming made your hands clammy and you’re unsure if it’s due to nerves or excitement.

there’s a knock on your door and your stomach drops, fuck that was fast. of course he was nearby, he knows you can’t say no. and that's the annoying part, that he was waiting nearby, planning, no, knowing that you would let him in.

as you walk over, you steel yourself, you’re gonna give him a piece of your mind this time. if he wants to keep fucking you, then he needs to put a little more effort in. yeah, that’s it, that’s what you’ll say.

but as soon as the door opens, he’s on you. you can’t even get a syllable out before he’s slamming you against the wall and crashing his lips onto yours. he kisses you like he’s starving, like you’re the first meal he’s had in years.

you can barely breathe, the air sucked out of your lungs as he picks you up, your legs naturally curling around his waist, while your nails are digging into his shoulders as he turns and kicks the door shut.

he’s fast, barely stumbling down the hallway as he walks you to the bedroom. throwing you down onto the bed, you’re given a moment of respite, gasping.

“oliver-“ you try, but he’s back on you instantly, slipping his tongue in, while some drool runs from your mouth. he tugs at the waistband of your shorts, before sliding them off.

his fingers ghost your clothed pussy, groaning when he feels the wet patch on your undies. he leaves your mouth to leave sloppy, wet kisses across your cheek before he’s growling in your ear, “you’re always soaked when i’m around, aren’t you?”

you whine out a needy and breathless, “mhm,” mind already hazy and resistance long gone. you tug at his shirt and he gives a light laugh, that makes your heart ache, before pulling it off.

“your turn.” he says and you scramble to take yours off. “god, you’re so pretty.” he hums, hand trailing through the valley of your breasts, making you tremble. you burn under his hungry gaze, trying to look away, but he catches you. your chin caught between the pad of his thumb and pointer finger, “eyes on me.”

you watch as he takes your panties off next, another hum of approval from him when he sees your glistening folds. he was right, you were soaked and eager, your body reacting to every touch or word he gives.

you hate oliver aiku. you hate how he makes you burn with the desire, how every touch of his hand across the expanse of your skin has you whimpering. you hate that he always knows what to say to keep you wrapped around his finger, his words keeping you collared to him.

but god do you love the stretch of his thick cock as it slides into your dripping cunt, mewling as he sinks down, inch by inch. he grits his teeth as he bottoms out, stilling a bit to let you adjust, before he’s driving into you like he hasn’t seen you in years.

sometimes, you think you were made for him. the way no other fling ever brings you as high as oliver does. his cock hits all the right places, your face contorted in pleasure as the slap! of skin against skin reverberates within the room. or maybe, you think like that because he tells you that. “fuck baby,” he hisses, “ah, you were fucking made for me, shit.”

oliver knows you like the palm of his hand. he knows when you want him to talk to you sweetly. he knows when you want him to growl obscenities in your ear. but most of all, he knows you always want him to fuck you stupid.

your whines are like music to his ears, as he thrusts into you, heavy balls against your ass. your head falls back against the pillow, eyes closing as you let the pleasure wash over you. but oliver tsks, hooking his thumb into your mouth and jerking it downward. your eyes fly open as he grunts, “i said, eyes on me.”

“s-sorry,” you whimper, trying to maintain eye contact with him, “ah, fuck!” but you just can’t, each thrust against your sweet spot has your eyes rolling back. you feel his hand on the back of your head, making sure you can’t throw it back, he wants to see it all, every fucked out expression you’ll give him.

it’s part of his ego to see you come undone on him. he loves that such a pretty thing like you lets him ruin you. in fact he craves it so much that he’s basically stopped sleeping around with others. he thinks you’re the cutest thing to cream on his cock, especially when you paw and whine that “ts too much!”

unfortunately for him, he’s not gonna be able to hold back this time. the noises you’re making are too pretty and the clench of your pussy feels too good. he’s sure this is the closest to love he’s ever gotten.

“‘m gonna,” you gasp, glassy eyes gazing up into his, “oliver, i’m-“

“i know, baby,” he coos, “you’re, ah, gonna cum right? cum for me, yeah?”

it’s embarrassing how quickly you do, the legs wrapped around him trembling as you clench down on his cock, vision blurring.

“that’s it,” he praises, fucking you through your high, “good fuckin’ girl.” and it’s not long til he’s coming undone too, groaning as he fills your pussy up, painting it in hot white ropes.

he pulls you in and you squeak, before he’s pressing a deep kiss into your lips. it’s the first time he’s done this and you’re caught off guard by the intimacy. but you don’t fight it, closing your eyes as he gives you kiss after kiss.

“let me stay the night.” he says in between kisses and you pull away, pushing his face back with your hand. you blink at him, perplexed. did he get hit in the head? not only has he not pulled out, but he’s even asking to stay the night?

“… who are you and what have you done with oliver aiku?” but he laughs at your confused expression.

“c’mon, i drove all the way here princess.” he teases and you tilt your head, brow furrowed. it’s annoying, as if you’ve never done that for him before. he’s not sure you notice the way that turns him on, but the blood’s already started rushing to his once softening cock.

you do notice and you frown, “you just wanna fuck me again.”

“what’s so wrong with that?” he asks and you groan, pushing him off hard enough that he slips out of you. you roll over, curling up into your side, feeling his seed drip onto the sheets.

“ugh, just go away oliver. i need to take a shower.” you feel stupid, dumb, and a little used but you refuse to cry in his presence, making a mental note that you really need to cut things off. but settles in next to you, throwing his arms over you and pulling you close.

“that’s not the only reason,” he sighs and your heart flutters, “besides, have i ever told you you’re my favorite?”

“not funny.” you deadpan, it’s stupid but your heart does feel a little lighter. you feel his hands wander over your body and you curse yourself for being so weak, feeling his stubble brush against your skin before he presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“i just wanna spend some time with you, i missed you.” he murmurs, breath hot on your ear. your breath hitches as he finds your puffy clit, rubbing slow, sticky circles.

“fine… but only because i love you.” you whimper as you spread your legs for him again, giving in for the nth time. you hate oliver aiku, but only because you’re so stupid in love with him. he knows, but he bites back the urge to say it back and let you know that you don't have to worry about it. you're not just his favorite, but his one and only.

“good girl.” he growls, before hooking a hand on the back of your knee, spreading you wider. maybe one day he’ll say it back.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk smut #oliver aiku x reader #bllk x reader #oliver aiku smut #pibby's dreams #holy crap its been so long i forgot my own tag system #dividers by @/cafekitsune

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blindmagdalena · 23 hours ago

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just because antony starr posts so much about his dogs ... how would homelander feel if vought gave him a dog to raise? you know, to bump up his numbers or something so he couldn't get out of it haha

i'm firmly of the opinion that Homelander doesn't like animals, and animals generally don't like him. he's the kind of guy who poses with horses and gets bit. cats hiss at him. dogs tuck their tails and give him whale-eye.

the thing is he was never raised with animals. he doesn't speak their language any better than he speaks our social language. they stink, they shed, they're lesser. pets are just another thing in this world that he was denied, and instead of letting that be one of many heartaches, he chooses disdain. he can't be hurt by it if he never lets himself want it in the first place.

it's precisely because of this that i really enjoy the idea of a dog being foisted onto him. especially one that inexplicably does like him. an excitable young golden retriever that was born and raised under fluorescent lights, destined for doom in a lab, but some genetic or behavioral incompatibility with the project caused it to be rejected.

he'd be extremely put out. there's something infuriating about the way it wags its tail whenever he so much as looks at it. he wants nothing to do with it, and yet it still follows him absolutely everywhere he goes. it barks and whines when he shuts it out of rooms he's in. it drives him crazy that the thing just won't take the hint.

"You're pathetic, you know that?" he says, practically seething. not even he's completely sure why.

he fucking hates the way it begs. those big dumb eyes not understanding his rejection. how it reflexively performs little tricks over and over and over for any scrap of approval, no matter how many times he tells it to go away. hell, it even starts to get excited about that because at least he's paying attention to it, and god, that's all it wants.

"Would you shut up!"

it's just too much. the whining, the hair, the constant demand. it overstimulates him.

deep down, what he hates is how much of himself he sees when he looks at it. the desperate pleading part of him that barks and sits and fetches when told to. the part of him that always obeys. that always wants to obey.

"What is it gonna take for you to get it? I don't want you!"

Nobody wants you. You're not like them.

he never hurts it. never lashes out physically. he's been told what to do with it and for better or worse, he's going to do it. albeit the most bare minimum.

but then he comes home one day and there's no scratch of paws skittering over wood floors. there's no wagging tail, no excited yelps. his gut churns and for a second he thinks the thing must be dead. instead he finds the pup curled up in its bed by the window, staring vacantly out at the skyline.

maybe there's something worse than seeing what you hate about yourself in something else. maybe it's becoming just like the people who made you the way you are.

after weeks of rejecting the thing, he has the audacity to be hurt that it's given up on him.

who gave it that right? why is this stupid little animal allowed to give up when after years and years and years, Homelander is still Vought's show pony?

"Hey!" he snaps, all anger and hurt and rejection.

the dogs ears pin. it looks at him. and there's just... nothing there. no hope, no expectation. who knew a dog could look depressed? he finally got his point across.

and he hates everything about it.

so he kneels down next to the dog bed, jaw tight. he stares for a long while before he just... gives the dog a pat. he's bad at it, his touch stilted and awkward through the glove, but he sits and he pets the damn dog.

eventually, that little tail thumps lightly against the bed, and he feels something tight in his chest loosen slightly.

"Good boy," he says quietly, a little surprised by how easily the words come to him.

he's always thought of praise and affection as something difficult. something hard won. his life doesn't make sense if it isn't.

the dejection doesn't go away instantly. it's a slow thing, like a wilted flower coming back after too many days without water.

but one day he comes home to the skitter of paws and a flurry of fur, and for the first time, it makes him smile.

#ask and you shall receive #homelander headcanons #homelander #idk how to tag this it's just stream of consciousness rambling my feelings about homelander and animals #this is probably a lot heavier of an answer than u expected it to be i'm sorry lmao #my writing #kindaaaa

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a-substantial-trash-pile · 23 hours ago

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This morning I said goodbye to my childhood dog, Kody. He was 18 years old. He was my baby. My best friend. My whole heart. I love him so much.

I remember the first time we met Kody at the animal shelter. He was actually named Tyra then because the staff had thought he was female. Then the first thing he did in our meet-n-greet was try to pee on my brother's leg, and the staff member with us at the time was like, "oops I think this may be a boy actually." So of course we had to take him. When my dad was signing the adoption forms, the desk person asked what he wanted to rename "Tyra" to since "Tyra" was actually a boy. My dad, put on the spot, just went, "uhhhhh Tyrone?" We still laugh about it to this day.

So my dog went from being a Tyra, to a Tyrone, and then to a Kody, because that was the name us kids wanted. I remember the way we thought that name up was because we watched a lot of the Disney show "Suite Life of Zack and Cody" at that time. But we changed the "C" to a "K" because in our kid minds it made the name cooler and more unique.

Kody was a weird little guy. He had a lot of anxiety, which meant he fit right into our family. He didn't get along with many dogs unless they were old and calm and it took him a while to warm up to strangers. When he went on walks, he would have to go and pee on every tree we came across, even though he had nothing left in the chamber and was just doing the motions. He liked to climb on top of the couch and the loveseat and nap there. He liked to nap in warm piles of fresh laundry and patches of sunlight too. We always joked that he acted more like a cat than a dog. When I tried giving him bones or chews, all he'd do was roll on them and then go stuff them under the couch or behind a shelf without chewing them. Actually, Kody was pretty picky with his food in the early days. Maybe because my mom kept giving him table food. But as he got into senior age, he got less picky. Kody also loved getting nightly scratches from my dad. He'd lay in my dad's lap and get so relaxed from the scratching. I'd get a little jealous because I couldn't get Kody to stay in my lap as long as my dad could.

The only command we ever managed to teach Kody was "sit" and he was real good at it if he knew you had a treat in hand. However when he got older and began developing dementia as well as gradually loosing his sight and hearing, he lost the command. The first time I realized he didn't know how to sit anymore, I cried. The first time I realized that Kody didn't know how to wag his tail anymore, I cried. Watching him deteriorate from what he once was, watching the shine in his eyes become dull and cloudy, watching as he gradually lost the ability to do more and more things... it was so painful.

Last night Kody came over to me and laid his head in my lap and fell asleep. It was the first time he had done that in months. I just sat there and pet him and cried. Now I can never pet him or hold him or kiss him on the head again. And it feels so unbearably, unimaginably painful. I can barely comprehend it. It feels like I'm in a nightmare. It feels like my heart's been ripped out of my chest. It feels like a part of my world is ending. But I know I will be okay eventually. I have to be.

Kody, you were a very good boy. The best dog/cat/rat in the world. I'm going to miss hearing your little feet pitter-pattering across the floor. I'll miss your barking when the doorbell rings. Your excited whines in the car. How you would roll on your back for belly rubs. The way you would burrow under the blankets or just shove them around until you made a nest. Your snores and funny twitches when you're deep asleep. How your fur was soft on top your head and then got coarser on your back. How big and round your eyes were. I'm going to miss it all so much. I hope you know how loved you are. And I hope we meet again someday. Thank you for everything, Kody. I love you.

#i miss you so so much kody #i don't ever want to forget you #dogs #pet loss #tw pet loss

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unhealthyvendetta · 1 day ago

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ೃ⁀➷ KISS MY CUTE ASS BYE-YE-YE!

✧˚ · . overview. you're trying get home in the rain and bump into nanami. you two hit it off but gojo keeps trying to win you back but you break things off finally(?) part one

⇢ ˗ˏˋ caution. nanami x reader, no use of "y/n", angst, fluff, fem reader, obsessed gojo, persistent reader, flirty reader, clueless nanami, not proofread ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

ding!

You woke up to a notification, but who would text you at this hour? It's like 7AM.. oh. It's 12PM.. how did you sleep in for so long? You checked your phone to see that your manager has requested you to come in.

For some reason you accepted, maybe for the extra pay.. you don't know. But you quickly hopped out of bed, took a shower, got dressed, and walked out of your apartment complex.

You got in your car, turned on your favorite song and was off to work. Today was going to be a good day for you, you'll make some money for a short shift and maybe just lie in bed the entire day.

Your job went by pretty fast and as you stepped out the building, you felt a drop of rain. Your happy mood turned into a sour one as even more droplets of rain fall down upon you. You didn't have an umbrella.

You quickly covered yourself with a jacket and went to go find your car in the parking lot when all of a sudden the rain drops are gone? You look up to see an umbrella above your head, you turn to see Nanami, who also has an umbrella under his head.

Oh dear, did Nanami have to see you like this? You awkwardly thanked him and he just smiled softly.

"I assume you just got back from your job?" Nanami questioned.

"Yeah, I did." You replied and took the umbrella from him, his hands brushing against yours gently. Just as you thanked him and was about to walk away, Nanami spoke again. "Wait, do you have a minute?"

Did you? Hell no. But for Nanami? Hell yes.

You turned back around, "Sure. What is it?" You asked him. "Okay, this might be a little rude of me to ask and It's totally fine if you don't want to talk to me about this, but is Gojo okay? He's looks a bit.. on edge, and I know you two are going out.." Nanami said, although there seemed to be no hint of concern for Gojo in his eyes.

"Oh, uh.. we broke up a week ago actually." You replied. Nanami looked a little intrigued, "Really? I thought saw you two kissing outside of a bakery a few days ago." Nanami responded.

"We did, but I didn't want him to. I pushed him off after a few seconds," You sighed. "Oh, I'm sorry I reminded you of that." Nanami apologized. "Don't worry about it," You replied. "I'd love to chat more, but I need to get home." You replied, hoping he'd offer his number.

"That's fine, sorry for keeping you. I can give you my number if you like," Nanami offered, making you wanna jump for joy.

You accepted his offer and you drove home with nothing short of excitement, you had Nanami's umbrella and his number? This was the best day of your life.

As you stepped into your apartment, you saw Satoru there. So it looks like it was not the best day of your life. "What the hell!? Why are you here?" You yelled.

"I'm trying to change, I am. But you're not giving me a chance. Can't we just start over? Please? I'll do anything.." Satoru begged you.

"Why can't you just give it up? I'm so tired of you." You replied as your face displayed an unimpressed expression. "Maybe I should get a restraining order?" You added.

"God damn it, I'm trying here! Why can't you see that I'm sorry? What else do I need to do for you to take me back!?" Satoru yelled. "Who said I'm taking you back?" You scoffed.

Satoru's face showcased fear and anger, "What do you mean? You wouldn't leave me, right?" He asked, almost begging.

"I already did, get out my apartment." You said, pointing to the door of your apartment. "So you're really leaving me? Just like that?" Satoru frowned.

"Indubitably," You replied with sass.

And with that, Satoru was gone.. maybe? Who knows.

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sorry this is so short :( i'm probably gonna make a part 3! thank you all so much for the support and i'm sorry if this isn't as good as you expected </3

@kcch-ns

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aventurineswife · 23 hours ago

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sunday, aventurine, etc (separately) with an elysia {hi3} personality reader?

i love ur fics btw remember to take care of urself 🤍

Chasing Stars and Sweet Nothings

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Elysia like personality!Reader, Romantic Fluff, Playful Romance, Lighthearted Moments, Mystery, Attraction, Comfort and Warmth, Thoughtful Conversation, Soft Sunday, Flirtation, Teasing, Emotional Healing, Philosophical Undertones.

A/N: I'm not sure if I wrote this correctly but I had to read the wiki for the personality, so I hope I got it right 😪 also thank you, anon! I appreciate and take care of yourself too!! 🤭🫶💖🤧

Aventurine had always prided himself on his ability to read people, but you? You were a mystery wrapped in rose-colored laughter and mischief, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to it.

One evening, as the city lights painted your silhouettes with a glow, Aventurine watched you twirl in the warm night air, a contented smile on your face. “You know, every time I look at you, I can’t help but wonder what you’re hiding.” he murmured, amused but curious.

You laughed, your voice like chimes in the quiet. “Now, why would I hide anything from you, Mr. Big Shot Investor?” you teased, leaning into his shoulder with a playful grin. “Unless, of course, you’re willing to wager a bit more of your time to find out?”

He smirked, placing his hand on your waist, leading you into a gentle sway. “With you, everything’s a gamble,” he said, “but for once, I don’t mind risking it all.” You laughed softly, eyes sparkling with a hidden depth, drawing him in like the cards he played so expertly.

As you leaned closer, whispering sweet nothings and absurd promises, Aventurine found himself unable to focus on anything but you. You were a mystery he would never fully unravel, yet it was in your lighthearted laughter and gentle teasing that he found something he’d never bet on—a sense of peace.

“Stay with me tonight?” he asked, a rare softness crossing his face. You gazed up at him, smiling as if you already knew the answer long before he’d asked. "Only if you promise we’ll make it interesting.” you replied, leaving a trail of laughter as you pulled him into the unknown.

Sunday was used to people who followed his vision, who sought comfort in his promises of a painless dream, but you… you were a delightful anomaly, never quite fitting into any category he’d known.

“You look so serious, Sunday,” you cooed, nudging him playfully. “Why all the gloomy thoughts when you’re with me?” Your smile was radiant, as if the world’s sorrow never even grazed your spirit, and he found himself taken aback.

“Not everyone views the world with such… resilience,” he replied, his tone softer than usual. “Most seek peace, an escape from suffering.”

You chuckled, twirling a strand of his hair as if you’d known him forever. “Ah, but what is life without a little excitement? You don’t think your ‘Sweetdream Paradise’ would get boring after a while?” You raised an eyebrow, your tone teasing, yet sincere.

Sunday’s gaze softened, his golden eyes reflecting an unspoken conflict. “Perhaps. But there’s a kindness in sparing people from pain, is there not?”

You tilted your head, pressing a gentle hand to his cheek. “Kindness, yes, but people need a spark too. Just think, Sunday—if we never knew pain, how could we ever appreciate happiness?” You flashed a cheeky smile and continued, “Even you, my noble dreamer, wouldn’t want to miss out on a bit of thrill, right?”

He chuckled, an uncommon sound for him, but one that felt entirely natural in your presence. “Perhaps there’s merit in your way of thinking,” he admitted, his hand resting atop yours. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “But tonight, I’d like to learn from your world, where joy mingles with challenge. Show me how you see it.”

You beamed up at him, slipping your arm through his. “It’s a date, then! Let’s make this world unforgettable together.” With you, even Sunday’s unwavering dream began to flicker with shades of something new, something alive.

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avoicebehindthestars · 2 days ago

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I'm not so much worried about the movie delivering on the Aziracrow front. Michael Acting-Choices Sheen rests at the heart of this ship. David happily tagged along. Rob Wilkins ships the Ineffable Husbands something insane. And the whole crew know their audience.

BUT

The time restrictions are impossible to bypass. And there is a plot to be told - Second Coming, Heaven and Hell vs Humanity. All this will have to receive decent screentime. As a result, a lot of time Aziraphale and Crowley would have to slowly heal and become an Us will be lost.

And let's not even get started on everything else. We're all aware how many metas have been created on tumblr, how many analyses on yt, focused on the most intricate subtleties of s2. Crowley ticking off all the conditions to ask god questions. The tiny changes to the set that indicate possible time fuckery. Shots imitating tarot cards. I was so, so excited to dive into another round of this detective game, hoping that Prime might release s3 in instalments so the fandom could collectively enjoy trying to solve all the puzzles.

And then there's the fluff - plain and simple! The part that most fans adore the most. All the "do we know a Jim?", "our car", "three tones of voice", "you go too fast for me" - everything that really tells the love story of Aziraphale and Crowley. Not to even mention the minisodes/flashbacks. There's a reason why s1e3 is the highest rated on IMDB. All the through-the-ages sequences have long been the fan-favourite part of Good Omens.

Last but not least, the countless literary references! There's a whole group on fb dedicated to reading and analysing every single book that found its way to Good Omens, whether thrown right in our faces (The Crow Road), shown in one shot (Lord Jim, Pride and Prejudice) or just smuggled in the promo poster (Catch-22, A Tale of Two Cities, Treasure Island...). I'm gutted that now we'll most likely never know what they meant, what hints they were carrying.

Honestly, if I were still at uni, I would be writing my thesis in narratology on Good Omens for all the massive potential it carries. This story deserves so much better...

Ngl, I'm scared about Season 3.

So much of what I loved about Season 2 was all the character development, the "filler" (minus a few moments that felt like unnecessary jokes, but that's a whole 'nother post.) How queer it was, how much it didn't hurry to further the plot like I felt like Season 1 did.

I came into Good Omens as as Gaiman fan, and as happy as I am that he's essentially no longer involved, I don't know what to make of the Pratchet Estate taking on a major role. Yes, I know TP wrote as much if not more than Gaiman when it comes to the book. But it's the show I fell in love with.

All that said:

I know David and Michael, the latter especially, took a fairly platonic script Good Omens Season 1, and made it very romantic.

I know they acted the fuck out of a Zoom call for three seasons and it's still one of the funniest things I've seen.

I saw Michael Fucking Sheen cold read an entire play for a 500 person audience. And he fucking killed it.

I saw David Fucking Tennant play a character that has been played countless times. And the audience still fucking GASPED at a key moment in the play.

I don't know the new producers enough to fully trust them yet. And that's okay.

But I trust David and Michael as actors. And for now that is enough.

#good omens #good omens season 3 #good omens deserves better #rescued 90

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paranormal-peri · 2 days ago

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SCREW IT

PARANORMAL PERI PROLOGUE

“Hey kid, how about we head back? I have a bad feeling about this."

Peri followed behind his godkid through the halls and different exhibits of the museum,

in a human disguise of course.

He hated having to walk on two legs. Even with his wand as a cane, it would be much less exhausting and much more efficient to fly. If only that wasn't seen as "paranormal" to the human eye.

"Not now Peri, I'm so close."

Dev walked at a fast pace, relying on his peripheral vision to guide him as he kept his eyes on the screen of his tablet.

"What are we even looking for again? I could help you search. I can even use my magic to help if-"

"Stop questioning me, you don't need to know, I don't want your help."

"Sigh, I'm just trying to make things go faster."

It was strange to see Dev so set to do things on his own without skipping steps with a wish, especially to be out in a crowded public. He was usually so impatient. Maybe this was a good thing.

Maybe it would be a good thing if it wasn't so risky,

risky for Peri.

The highest possible coincidental inconvenience was at play.

Peri had noticed the strange presence of paranormal investigators at the scene.

They might have been here before they arrived, he wasn't sure, but they were much more prominent inside.

Maybe they are here for something in an exhibit? Surely they weren't here for Peri.

Multiple packs.

They hunted around like excited bloodhounds.

They interviewed passing civilians for clues.

They grazed the floors and walls with their Sci-fi looking technology.

They were so focused on their mission. They didn't hesitate to drop down to the floor or bump past others without a warning, not prioritizing how their obsessiveness and ignorance to social cues may make them look.

The clunkiness of some of their devices only caused more of a clumsy scene.

Nothing about them screamed professional, but they had the passion for success.

A success that led Peri worried.

He was a target.

Gulp

Dev, I highly recommend that I help you search! What is it you need? I can wish it to appear! Let me help!

"I already told you, I don't want your help."

Dev replied with a growing annoyance.

"Dev… in case you haven't noticed, there are… paranormal investigators around… who are looking… for paranormal beings… like… I don't know… Fairy godparents maybe?! With wands, and wings… and floaty crowny things?!"

"You'll be fine, you're in a disguise anyway. I need to get this done now!"

Dev snapped back with a growing frustration.

"Dev, kid… we. need. to. go. I need to go, but I don't want to leave you unattended in a public-"

“Augh! Stop talking to me! You are always over my head all the time! I wish you would just stay put! Stop following me around like a bug in my ear!”

Be careful what you wish for.

“I… sigh, as you wish…”

Wish granted

Magical lock

Left parked alone.

Peri watched in defeat as his godkid walked out of sight.

When did things all go so wrong? What was he doing wrong?

He just wants to do right by Dev, why did it feel like he was failing his kid?

Beeep beep beep beeeeeep

Peri was startled by the sudden beeping next to him.

"Good evening to you! You haven't seen anything strange around here, have you?"

An investigator nudged Peri.

"Haha, Strange? Strange? Uh, no, no, I haven't seen anything strange, why would I know about anything strange? That would be strange! I'm not strange! I'm human! Totally human, yeah, see? Haha..."

Nervous Peri. He needed to keep his cool. He wasn't good at acting human.

"Yeah, that's all good. I hope I didn't spook you. My name's Marcus, Marcus Wells. I work for the Galax Institute (unaccredited). Me and my colleagues are here to investigate a tip we got about some paranormal activity going on here. If you see something, say something. I don't bite, unless you're a ghost, haha!"

"Yeah, oh yeah, I totally get it, I haven't seen anything but I'll call if I do… or not. I mean I'm not a- um… what's that?"

Beeeep beeeeeeep beeeeeeep

"Oh, sorry, that's just my paranormal detection device. It goes off when it senses paranormal activity. I must be close! Very close actually…"

"Haha! Oh wow, yeah, that's weird, really weird, and… strange."

"Strange, Yeah…"

The human shifted into focus. He waved the tech in the air, then away, then to the ground. The beeping changed in intensity.

Oh no no no no, he was so close! This beeping sound was going to give him away! Peri had to hold it together, he had to play it off. He would walk away if he could, but he's not sure if he can. He was wished to stay put. Is there something in the rules about breaking something like that? He had to check the rules, but he can't just magically pull up the book while being inspected.

Marcus grazed the detection device across the floor, chasing the source of the sound until it tapped against Peri's shoe.

BEEEEEEEEEEP

"Holy mother of mac n' cheese! It's right under you!"

Marcus blindly shoves Peri to the side in an excited effort to chase the source.

But in this action, the hand used to shove held the tech against the chest of the purple haired human.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

No no no no no no no

PSHK- BOOM!

The device explodes against Peri's chest.

The two jolt back in pain and fall back from the burst. The ruptured box falls to the ground.

A slow realization filled the room with tension and silence.

It's all over, what is he gonna say? What can he say!? Nothing under this pressure!

"Ah! I know what you're thinking, but that was probably just a malfunction, I mean how old is that tech anyway?! ! I'm not strange or paranormal, I'm not a fairy, I swear!!

Glitchy soul.

Blue.

Red energy.

Magic failing.

Wings exposed.

No no no no no no no

"Ah! T-That's nothing! Those aren't real I uhh.. I'm uhh..."

Peri attempted to poof away his wings, but they wouldn't disappear correctly. Even when he finally got them to poof away right, his crown had appeared.

Poof away the crown-- the wings appear again.

Why wasn’t his magic working correctly?

"I uhh… I'm a… I'm a cosplayer! Yeah, Just a totally normal human doing totally normal human things! I'm not a real fairy or anything, I mean, would a fairy have totally real and normal legs?"

Stuttery sweaty mess.

His crown appears again. He staggers to swoosh it away. His totally real legs began to fail as well.

The fairy stumbles backward to the ground,

out from the locked standing place.

Their form was now fully exposed to the crowd.

Marcus remains silent in a state of shock.

"IT'S A FAIRY!"

Another human called.

No no no no no no no

Lights, Shouts, Camera, Action!

Chaos

No no no no no no no

They see him!

They see him as a fairy!

He is not supposed to-

He is breaking the rules!

What-?!

Peri quickly flies upwards to dodge a butterfly net.

No no no no no no no

Before he could even think about using his magic to disappear—if it would even work correctly this time—there was a sudden LIGHT that shot past him from behind.

Flash!

All he knew after that was falling.

He must have just lost balance.

It took a second, but his body finally responded to the sudden light.

A sharp wave of hot pain rippled through the veins of his wings.

Burning.

His body hit the ground with a sudden

THUD

His wand skids across the floor.

What just happened?!

Something felt so off.

Something felt so numb.

Something was missing.

Peri feels around the area radiating with heat and pain.

What-

My- my wing-?!

Horrified.

Part of his body was missing.

Where did it go?

He looked to the ground to see a spread of black dust and ashes.

His wings—at least most of one and the tips of the other—

De-atomized

“Be careful with that! You almost killed them!"

Marcus exclaimed.

“Isn’t that what we are supposed to do?! Fairies are dangerous! When you see one, you zap em'!”

“Sure, but wouldn't they be much more valuable alive? Think about how awesome it would be if we could capture them alive!”

“That’s a good point, very good point.”

No no no no no no no

He had to fix this.

This is why you always follow the rules.

Where's my-?

His wand was so far out of reach.

Peri buzzes and shuffles to quickly retrieve his wand, but stumbles down quickly in a shock of pain.

He couldn't fly over.

He needed to move quickly.

He needs his cane,

but that's what he is yet to retrieve.

He tries to stand on his own,

shaky from adrenaline and lack of stability.

His little heart was overworking itself in a state of panic.

But just when he thought he had it-

ZZT!

He jolted from a sharp pain in his leg and his body hit the ground.

Was that just his legs being weird to him again? Or was that-

Something else.

He looked back to see a metal jabbed into the back of his thigh, with a tuft of red at the top.

What is…

He pulled out the needle with a twitch of pain.

This?!

It was so big compared to his tiny hand.

This wasn't made for someone his size.

Whatever it was, the effects began quickly.

He could feel the cold foreign substance dispersing through his skin from where it entered.

He flickered his eyes in an effort to blink away the sudden feeling of drowsiness.

The fairy's breathing hitches in realization of what is going on.

What was this magic? What was it doing to him?

No, no, was he dying? If he closed his eyes would he not wake up?

No, he had to stay awake. He had to escape.

He had to get his wand.

His hands shake in panic, but his heart slows.

He struggled to stand, his legs were beginning to give out.

They began to feel numb.

He was stuck on the floor, fighting to keep his consciousness.

His body begged for rest, but he couldn't give it, not until he was away,

Not until he wouldn't be seen,

Not until he wasn't breaking the rules.

His mind was beginning to give out to rest as well.

Thoughts became sluggish and fogged.

His heart was slowed.

He was so close to the peace of sleep.

All he knew was his wand.

All he could see was his wand.

His peripheral vision had darkened and blurred. Shadows of assumable humans crowded around him.

He could still see his wand between the silhouette legs

It felt useless to fight the fatigue.

His head lay defeated against the cold polished floor.

But he couldn't give up.

N-no… I can't…

He tensed for movement and weakly lifted his head

…break…

He reached out to the blurred yellow glow in the darkness for one last try.

…Da Rules…

His hand and head rested against the floor for the final time.

Eyes rolled back and the squint of sight finally glued shut.

Darkness consumed his world.

The last sensation he could feel was touch of hands wrapping around him before everything went numb.

—

What happens next?

Read Paranormal Peri on AO3

—

This was originally meant to be a flashback in one of the newest chapters, but I just decided to cut it out and put it as the prologue because that just made a lot more sense.

I actually plan to turn this prologue into a comic.

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aspionagee · 3 days ago

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Update for fans of A Patchwork Family: I will be uploading chapter 1 of the sequel on December 1st or earlier, and weekly updates will commence from then.

I'm super excited, and I hope everyone else is, too! I'll be doing a title reveal soon, and I'll possibly post some other snippets in the run up to the release.

Since the sequel will be gaining steam around the Christmas season, I've written a little snippet of Harry, Draco and Severus engaged in Yule Ball preparations in honour of that. Enjoy! :)

Despite Severus’ considerable willpower, he was unable to prevent signs of Christmas festivity from invading his living quarters. Even though they had both returned to living in their respective dormitories during fourth year, Harry and Draco had joined forces to bring the yuletide spirit to their father’s rooms. Tinsel hung from the walls; a Christmas tree twinkled in the corner; stockings were suspended over the fireplace.

But as he stood in the bathroom on Christmas Day, Harry was beginning to wish he could banish any evidence of the dreadful holiday from his life. All it did was remind him of the impending Yule Ball.

For the hundredth time, he wetted his comb and raked it through his hair, only for it to stubbornly spring upright. Harry groaned loudly, and smacked his forehead against the mirror. He looked completely ridiculous! What was Parvati going to think? Even worse, what would Cho think when she saw Harry? She was bound to give him a pitying look, while inwardly congratulating herself on picking the right champion…

Severus knocked on the door and asked, “What on earth is going on in there?”

“My hair!” Harry said, dragging the comb through once more. “It just won’t stay down - bloody hell!”

Severus pushed open the door, clearly struggling to stifle his laughter.

“Stop it!” Harry said despairingly. “It’s not funny!”

“My apologies.” Severus’ lips continued twitching. “I’ve just never seen you act so very much like your brother.”

“Watch it!” Draco shouted from the other room. “If he was a bit more like me, Harry might know how to clean up properly in situations like this!"

“Bugger off!” Harry yelled back, whacking the top of his head with the flat end of the comb, hoping that blunt force might succeed where all else had failed.

Severus examined him inquisitively. “Since when does your hair bother you? I’ve spent the better part of a year imploring you to use a comb while you grumble at me.”

“Draco said I look like I’ve been dragged through a hedge,” Harry muttered, patting more water onto his head.

“And I am certain your hair was also a complete bird's nest when you asked Miss Patil to be your… companion. She knew what she was getting herself into.”

“Eugh, companion?” Harry gave Severus a bemused look. “Who even says that?”

Severus sighed, and took the comb from his hand. “Harry, this is a losing battle. It’s time to head upstairs. Miss Patil will surely be waiting for you, and it’s rude to leave a date unattended.”

Harry finally conceded defeat and took a step back to look himself over in the mirror. He felt incredibly uncomfortable in the dark green dress robes he’d been forced to wear for the Yule Ball. They were stiff, and strange, and made Harry feel far too trussed up. Severus’ robes were also much finer than usual, but he was naturally still wearing his customary shade of black.

“I’d take the Horntail over this,” Harry muttered.

Severus rolled his eyes. “It’s a school dance, Harry.”

“Yeah, and I have to lead the stupid dance in front of everybody! It’s so embarrassing!”

“Somehow, I think you’ll live to see another day.” He scanned his eyes over Harry and scowled, reaching out towards his neck. “Why on earth have you knotted your tie like that?”

Harry batted his father’s hands away. “Stop fussing, it’s fine!”

“It’s completely askew -”

He took several steps back and raised his arms in a defensive barrier to avoid Severus’ continued attacks. “It’s supposed to be that way!”

Severus gave him a look of immense disdain. “Teenagers…”

“Harry!” Draco bellowed. “Get a move on, Cecilia is waiting for me!”

Harry pulled a face and began to shuffle towards the door with extreme reluctance. Severus clapped him on the shoulder.

“At least try to look as though you’re enjoying yourself, Harry. You’re going to a ball, not walking to the gallows.”

“Har har,” he grumbled.

#this was fun to write #and honestly?#might turn into a oneshot of its own #but anyways SEQUEL!#a patchwork family #severitus #harry potter #severus snape #draco malfoy

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koolades-world · 2 days ago

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Spellbound Secrets

chapter ten: the human world

synopsis: The House of Lamentation caught fire one night, and you were the only one they recovered from the wreckage. The brothers were in the house as well when you went to bed that night, but they were nowhere to be found. The pact marks are faded, and seem to be getting more and more indefinite by the day. You and Solomon get to investigating but oddly enough, nobody can seem to remember the missing brothers. It’s up to you, with the help of Solomon, to find your beloved demons, lest you never see them again.

authors note: omg oops did not realize a whole month had gone by without an update! my bad lol. for some reason i only thought it was two week? oh well, we're back and better than ever now. did some more work on the plotline too. all i'll say is that i'm a sucker for troupes and hope that you don't mind if i sneak a few in haha. thank you for your patience!

To say you were eager would be an understatement. Upon hearing the news that you'd be leaving for the human world that day helped you shake off the excess sleepiness like it was nothing.

"What time are we leaving?" You sat straight up.

"I knew you'd be excited." Solomon chuckled. When you sat there, staring at him expectantly, he realized he hadn't answered your question. "How does after dinner tonight sound?"

"It's settled!" You hurried out of bed, and quickly began getting ready for the day. While it was a late start, it was still a start nonetheless. You finished getting ready quicker than you ever had before, and made your way downstairs to enjoy a late breakfast. Simeon was in the kitchen, doing the dishes.

"You slept in today." Simeon commented as you made yourself a cup of coffee.

"Everyone needs to have a lazy day." You shrugged. The angels didn't know about your escapade last night, and you hoped to keep it that way.

"It's a great feeling." He responded. "Luke wanted waffles for breakfast this morning, so leftovers are in the fridge. You'll see them when you open it." As he was walking by, he set down the coffee creamer and a spoon next to you.

"Thank you." You absentmindedly prepared your coffee the way you liked it, while mentally buzzing about what your trip might be like.

"Solomon told me about your vacation. Are you excited?" Simeon asked.

"Very. I love the Devildom, and it's amazing in it's own way, but I miss the human world. I miss the rising sun every morning, the food, the atmosphere, and just humans in general." It had been a moment since you'd seen the real sun. Before the fire, you'd had a lamp imitated the sun installed in your room that had been a gift from the brothers. You knew it wouldn't hold a candle to the real thing though.

"I understand the sentiment. I miss the Celestial Realm sometimes too. But, I've enjoyed my time here, and I've learned much thanks to the exchange program." Simeon nodded.

"I didn't know the Devildom existed until the moment I got teleported here." You laughed, recalling that confusing day. While it had been hectic, that was the day you met the demons that would change your life. Thinking of that day invigorated you, and had you more determined to find the truth.

"I remember that day like it was yesterday. Your expressions were so cute." Solomon, who'd presumably just entered the room, chimed in.

"You're just saying that." You turned your back to him to hide your smile.

"He's right. It was a winsome look on you." Simeon agreed. Solomon came up behind you and pinched your cheeks, lifting your mouth into bigger smile.

"You guys are too sweet. We were all in the same boat. Enough about that. Where's Luke?" You were desperate to leave that conversation topic behind.

"He's in the back garden. He's tending to the plants Barbatos gave him, and he's very determined to keep them healthy." Simeon pointed through the kitchen window. If you squinted, you could see the top of his hat behind some of the bushes.

"He doesn't know we're leaving yet, right?" Both men in the room shook their heads. "I should go tell him then." You set your mug down, and moved to head to the door before you were stopped.

"You might want to wait until later. He won't let your out of his site if he hears you're going to be gone longer than a few hours." Solomon chuckled.

"You're right. But, when are we going to tell him then? We can't just vanish on him." You asked.

"We can tell him tonight at dinner. We're leaving after that so we don't have to worry about grocery shopping until tomorrow." Solomon sounded oddly delighted at the prospect of grocery shopping. You, on the other hand, were much less enthusiastic. Cooking for both of you was one thing. Fending off Solomon from helping you was another.

"Alright. That's fine, I guess." You rubbed the back of your neck, picking at the wisps of hair.

"Do you still feel guilty?" Simeon could probably tell from the look on your face.

"Yeah. But, it can't be helped. Solomon, will you come help me pack?" When he raised an eyebrow at you, you elaborated. "I don't know anything about where you live, so I don't know what kind of clothes to bring. Plus, how will we coordinate our outfits?" You needled.

"Alright, I'll go with you." You could tell he'd given what you'd said some more thought. You actually wanted him to come with you so you'd be able to enter your room with his comfort. Solomon had been the one going in and out of your room to get what you needed from in there.

"We'll be back later." You told Simeon.

"Do you want your coffee?" The angel gestured to the cup you'd left sitting on the counter.

"Just leave it there. I'll finish it later." You waved him off. You knew you'd probably forget about it, but at least this way you'd feel a little less wasteful. With that, Solomon left the room and ascended the stairs, leaving you to trail behind him.

You weren't completely sure if you were ready to go back to your room yet, but you knew you had to try. You felt as if you'd made progress since the day you were discharged from the hospital. There was also things to be missed about your space.

As soon as Solomon cracked open the door, memories came rushing back in. You moved to the center of the room, welcoming the rush. While that feeling of everything about the room existing being wrong persisted, the familiar was like a warm hug. Solomon lingered in the doorway behind you. You made your way around the room, inspected things that caught your interest. They felt, and seemed exactly the way you'd last seen them. The only things that had seemed to be touched was your clothes drawers and closet. Everything was messier than you'd left it, but you could tell Solomon had tried his best to keep things tidy. You took a seat on your bed, and spent a while longer in silence, drinking in the sights.

"It's identical. I still can't believe this exists. This shouldn't be here." You hung your head.

"It's so odd. I can remember the original room, but I also remember this room." Solomon said gently. The two of you sat in the stillness for a while.

"I lost almost everything in that fire, and nobody even knows it." A smile filled with self pity formed on your face. Solomon seemed like he wanted to say something, but you held up your hand. "Before you protest, I'm glad I have you though. Where would I be without you?"

"Dead in a ditch somewhere?" He took a seat beside you on your bed, offering his not so helpful opinion.

"Sounds about right." You let out a snort as Solomon patted you on the back.

"Would you feel any better if I told you I had a surprise for you?" Solomon asked.

"Last time you said that, I turned blue for a week." You recalled that day. It was much funnier looking back on it now, but in the moment, you could've have thought closer to the opposite.

"This is a different surprise, I promise."

"If you say so." You tried your best not to sound convinced, but you were already looking forward to whatever he had planned.

"For this surprise, you're going to need a nice outfit." He chirped.

"Are you taking me on a fancy date?" You finally turned to him, interested in his expression.

"You'll see." His eyes sparkled. He had something big planned, and you were hoping it had nothing to do with his cooking.

"I'll get out my nicests outfits, and you can let me know which I should bring." You hadn't opened your closet since the House of Lamentation. You were a bit hesitant, but with everything else you'd endured, especially reentering your room, you felt that you had it in you to do what you needed to. The two of you had fun packing, and while you never fully forgot where you were, it was easier to brush it aside with Solomon at your side. Since it was the beginnings of winter in the human world, you packed lots of warm outfits. Devildom days were sweltering, and the nights were freezing. You were a little sad you wouldn't get to break out your summer pajamas, you were excited to wear all of your day to day winter clothes.

Once you were finished packing, you set the bag in Solomon's room next to his already packed bag. The two of you were ready to go. You were antsy, to say the least. It would be good for you to get out the house, and back to the human world. You spent the rest of the day sitting on your hands. At dinner, Solomon was the one to break the news to Luke. He looked upset, but took the news well. Rather than focus on eating, Luke insisted on holding your hand for the rest of the meal.

When it was finally time to go, Solomon suggested the both of you change to warmer clothes so you wouldn't be cold when you teleported to the human world. You bundled up, and happened to arrive downstairs faster than the sorcerer. Luke and Simeon were standing in the foyer, waiting for you.

"I'm going to miss you." Luke hugged you for what felt like the hundreth time.

"I won't be gone for too long. I'll be back before you know it." You squeezed Luke back as tight as you could.

"Are you sure you have to go?" He pleaded.

"Do you remember what Solomon said?" Simeon asked. You hadn't been told what their secret conversation was about, but you figured it must've been something on your surprise.

"I hope you have fun. It's exactly what I would want if I was you." While he still seemed sad, you could tell he was telling the truth. It made you think that little bit harder about what it might be. Your thought process was interrupted by Solomon plodding down the stairs. His large duffle bag was slung over his shoulder. A thick scarf was wrapped around his neck, and a long overcoat covered most of his body. It almost reminded you of what he usually wore, but it was very becoming of him.

"Ready, my dear apprentice?" He offered his arm to you. After repressing a smile, you took it.

"Stay safe, you two." Simeon waved. Luke joined in after wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. With a dramatic sweeping of his hands, he teleported the two of you to the human world. It was quite different to the teleport he'd made out of the catacombs of the House of Lamentation. They journey was smooth, and before you knew it, you were staring up at the sky instead of a ceiling.

"You're going to love my house." Solomon sounded excited. You looked up and saw house on top of a hill, surrounded by fields. It was dark, so you couldn't tell exactly surrounded the house, but as the two of you gazed at the house, a light popped on. From what you could see, the house seemed cute.

"It's not as cold as I thought it was going to be." You shivered.

"Take a guess as to what I'm growing." Solomon led you over to the nearest field. You leant over a fence, squinting.

"It's winter though." You wracked your brain for plants that could grow in conditions like this.

"Lean closer and take a deep breath." He urged you to figure out for yourself, rather than just tell you.

"Alright…" When Solomon asked you to smell something, it almost never ended well. But, you trusted him. So, you did as he asked. You could smell the crisp air, but once you got past the stinging, you smelt something that was all too familiar.

"Lavender. It's lavender." You glanced back at Solomon to see if your guess was correct. His grin told you more than enough. You reached forward and brushed the light dusting of snow off the plants. You saw the distinct purple flowers. "How are you growing lavender in winter?" When you stared at him in disbelief, he chuckled.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" You realized he was probably talking about his magical abilities.

"Let's talk about this tomorrow. I'm ready to get to bed." You swatted at his shoulder when he laughed at your oversight.

"Follow me then, dearest."

#gn reader #spellbound secrets #obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke #omswd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me! shall we date

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loveandleases · 2 days ago

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Heyyy I assume you're a fan of the entire DA series, right? So what are your first Veilguard impressions? I've heard bad rumours of the game. I'm downloading it right now to test and don't have people to talk about :( (can I ramble about the game with you pretty please? 👉👈)

Hiya, and you would be correct! I'm going to put it under a cut because I will ramble.

So, I've not gotten to play it too much. Just a few hours in, and I won't lie and pretend that 30+ minutes weren't spent in the CC. I'll admit ahead of time I'm a glass-half-empty kind of person. I've played the series since 2009 so…that's to say I have high expectations and I won't pretend otherwise.

I'll also admit that I don't like the art direction. I prefer the dark fantasy look that prior games had. (But updated of course.) I'm a simple gal, as a chaotic bisexual, and learning that Lucanis is also a chaotic bisexual, well that just sealed the deal.

I can't say I like/dislike it just yet since I'm still in the early stages of the game. I hope that I'll enjoy it more..and I'm excited to see the old Gods. I love the DA lore, so this just scratches that itch. I've been on a fantasy kick ( I blame Rogue Cam ) I even recently replayed Origins (which is still my favorite). I love Assan (the griffon). But, I still need to see a Mabari, bring back my Mabari!!!!! Also Varric <3 He is easily my favorite character of the series.

Also, ngl I really really hope Sandal makes an appearance. I'd love to see him again.

Feel free to ramble!

Also some shots of my rook because i spent so long in the cc!!!

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isaidlandowecanbeworldchampion · 2 days ago

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Sparks Fly - Lost the Breakup Part 4

A/n: I'm sorry for the long wait between chapter, I find it hard to write longform style things without jumping straight to the fun stuff and building enough tension.... But we all learn somehow so i hope you bear with me.

Previous Part || Next Part

The cool air hit your burning face as you rushed onto the balcony and began to pace in the small space. The hiss of the shower echoed from the bathroom. You ran your hands through your hair and heaved a deep breath.

What. The. Fuck.

Oscar is just a friend, right? So why do you feel like an electric current is running through your whole body? You slump onto the small chair occupying the space, you head resting in your hands. You need to clear your head. Standing back up, you spot the small notebook on the desk in the corner of the room. Quickly scrawling a note to Oscar.

Gone for a walk, don’t wait up.

–

The cool water of the shower did nothing to wash away the excitement running through Oscar's skin. He had almost done it. He’d almost kissed her. He tilts his head back and lets the water run over his face. The way she looked up at him minutes ago flashed through his mind, was she disappointed that he’d pulled away? Was she disgusted that it had even happened? Oscar’s mind races with the possibilities.

Once he had washed his hair and relaxed from the day of travelling, he stepped out of the shower. Immediately, he realised that in his haste he had forgotten a change of clothes.

Wrapping a fluffy hotel towel around his hips he poked his head out of the bathroom. Y/n was nowhere to be seen but he could see that a note had been written on the pad by the desk.

He stepped out of the bathroom and quickly read the note before getting dressed into pyjama pants and laying on the couch to watch some netflix. If she wasn't going to be here when he went to sleep, she couldn't argue that he deserved the bed more.

–

Oscar thankfully had left by the time you awoke. Now, half an hour later and sipping a coffee on the balcony, you decide to bite the bullet and text Oscar.

Y/n: I’m sorry if I snore

Osc: You don’t, Don’t worry

Y/n: Shouldn't have taken the couch though, I thought I had won it fair and square

Osc: As I said, My mother would kill me if I let a lady sleep on the couch

Osc: Although I can’t say my back is thanking me though

Y/n: Maybe you should come share the bed then…

You fling your phone onto the couch next to you and run your hands through your hair. Your phone buzzes and you grab it, before lowering it back down again. You stare down at it, eyes wide with nervous curiosity. It buzzes again and, your nerves suddenly overcome, you open your chat with Oscar.

Osc: I mean if you’re offering

Osc: We’re both adults right

–

You are settled in bed once Oscar returns from his media duties, having grabbed dinner with his team on the way back to the hotel.

“Hey, How was your day?” he asks after coming through the door, placing his backpack next to the door and pulling his team polo over his head.

Your mouth goes dry at his toned chest. You had seen him shirtless before, but he had really bulked up since joining the team. Everything was turned up, every muscle defined perfectly without Oscar looking strange or too big.

“Y/n?” he asks again.

“Oh yeah” You answer lamely, “ I went and explored a little, I forgot that there's not really much to do around here outside of the race, but I was thinking that while you're at the track tomorrow I’d drive down to Stavelot and visit the Abbey and the Race Museum… If you don’t mind me using the hire car that is?”

Oscar smiled, “I got the car so you wouldn't be stuck at the hotel, it's yours to use. I’ll ask one of the guys to give me a ride to the track.”

You nod, “Okay, it's just Lando didn't like me driving the hire cars, and he always wanted me at the track with him so I never got to go exploring”

“You don’t have to explain.” Oscar grabbed his pyjama pants and his towel, “I’m going to have a shower, do you want to pick a movie to watch?”

–

You burst out a giggle when you look at Oscar. He’s sitting popped against the headboard of the hotel bed, mouthing along with the words of the movie. You’d picked Cars for nostalgia, but watching Oscar remembering all the words to the childhood classic was more entertaining.

Oscar looked at you, his ‘secret weapon’ ice cream bowl abandoned on the nightstand.

“What?” He laughs with you, “I love this movie!”

“Nothing” You hum, curling up tight under the blankets, facing Oscar. Your eyelids fluttering when you realise how tired you are.

“Goodnight, y/n” Oscar murmurs, running his hands through your hair splayed on the pillow.

You mumble a goodnight back before drifting off to the murmur of the tv and his hands in your hair.

–

YN LN spotted in Spa ahead of the Belgian GP. Does this mark a reunion for YN and Lando?

Lando grips his phone as he storms towards Oscar’s hotel room. Rage pumping through his veins. He bangs on the door with his fist, pausing before banging again.

Oscar swings the door open, his hair mussed and wiping sleep from his eyes.

“What the fuck is going on, mate?” He mumbles, leaning gently against the door.

“Where the fuck is she?” Lando asks loudly, making a start into the room. Oscar gently places his hand on Lando’s chest and pushes him back into the hallway. “I know she’s here.”

“Can you chill out?” Oscar hisses, “Yes, shes here”

“ I-” Lando begins but Oscar puts a hand up to stop him.

“Mate, you fucked up. You hurt her and then when she saw you in Monaco, you hurt her again.” Oscar says. “She didn’t come to see you. She came with me. Go to bed.”

“How am I supposed to sleep when you’re fucking my girlfriend?”

“Lando” Oscar gently places his hand on Lando’s shoulder, “ She’s not your girlfriend anymore.”

All of the emotions hit him at once and Lando found himself with tears running down his cheeks.

“But I love her,” Lando sobs. “We can’t-, I can’t, I need her”

Oscar pulls him into a hug, Lando’s face smashing into his shoulder.

“Goodnight, Lando.” Oscar releases the older man, “We can talk more in the morning”

The door to the hotel room clicks shut, leaving a sniffling Lando in the hallway. Oscar rested his head against the shut door. He never wanted to hurt Lando. Just like Lando hadn’t wanted to hurt you. They would talk in the morning though.

Oscar turns and shuffles back to bed, slipping under the covers next to you.

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 days ago

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@zepskies

Hello my lovely friend! I am so happy to hear that you liked this chapter🥰. I was also very excited to read your chapter of "The Honorable Choice" today!

I love how you describe NYC here as Ben tries to figure out between his memories and what he's seeing. It really must've been so discombobulating for him, painful even, to know how much of his life has been eaten away and how the world has moved on without him.

This is exactly what I was going for! I really love that scene in the show where Ben is walking through NYC, but Jensen does such a wonderful job of showing how out of place Ben feels in that moment. Everything he's seeing is brand new with shades of the old world he used to know and he's gotta feel alone. Everyone he knew has either died or tried to stab him in the back. 😬

This feels very Ben, and it's heartbreaking really. He has that hope deep inside, almost immediately by the instinct to stamp it down for the sake of perceived "femininity," as if that equates with weakness. (Obviously for him it does.)

I know 😅😭 I wish that he wasn't this way, but Ben is so conflicted about expressing his emotions and he's not comfortable with those kinds of feelings. But at the same time it's what makes him so interesting to write for and also another thing that the reader can make him comfortable with. I really love that trope, when the reader is the only person that the grumpy guy can open up to and not feel judged by saying what they're really feeling.

And Yes! I always write Ben's mother as the softer parent that comforted Ben when he was a kid. It makes sense in the time period he grew up in, and maybe I'm also thinking a little bit about how Dean Winchester's mother was to him when he was a kid 😂

LOVE the gif of Shaq lol

Also, I love how you described how she's the "amalgamation" of every woman Ben's ever been attracted to, even comparing her to the women he noticed in his youth, and who he hasn't seen ever since. It's a special kind of timeless feeling that gets to the heart of him in what feels like a realistic way. 👌🏽

Thank you!! That is actually one of my favorite bits in this chapter. To me, Ben seems like the kind of guy who really likes a classic look and women who embody the characteristics of "the good old days." I mean, the dude complains so much about how things "used to be" that he's gotta be missing the way women acted when he was a kid lol 😂

Bruh could've at least talked to her and explained himself before he ran away, but nooo. Granted, he's going through a lot coming back to the U.S., and he's already gone through so much and has so much hate in his heart, it's probably for the best that he leaves her for now.

It broke my heart for him to turn his back on her too! But you're right, he should have tried to just be like "I'm your soulmate, tell me your address, I'll be right back." Unfortunately I feel like Ben would have said "I'm your soulmate. Tell me your address. I'll be back in a few days I just gotta kill some people first" LMFAO lol

I also can't stand minimalism. I mean I like things clean, but I need furniture that is actually comfortable lol

Yeep, precisely what I thought would happen, but the self-reflection is good, and the break from frivolous sex lol. Though to be fair, this means he hasn't gotten any since before the Russians got him. Also on-brand that he'd call it "pussy-like" to be pining for his own soulmate lmao.

I was really on the fence about Ben having a problem being with other women, because he is so sexually forward and comfortable with casual sex. In Take A Chance On Me, Ben is having sex with other women, but he's confused why he keeps thinking about the reader, but this felt different because it's his soulmate. So for me it feels right that no one else holds any appeal. Self-reflection is good lol. You're right he hasn't gotten any since Russia, but maybe it's easier for him now because he hasn't been having sex regularly or hasn't in the past forty years? 🤷🏻‍♀️

Also yeah, dude is simping over the other half of his soul and he still thinks that he shouldn't be feeling any emotion lol. The man is perplexed lol.

I had to throw in the Lorena Bobbitt 😂 If anyone had a freaky soulmate it had to be Legend. I love him, but he's got the same vibes as Barry's uncle in Bee Movie who is talking about the cricket with "crazy legs" 🤣🤭

Thank you so much friend! I always love hearing what you think 🤗 Oh and next chapter is going to be... different. Maybe even a little heartbreaking. 😅😬

Chapter 2: I'll Never Let You Go Again Like I Did

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

Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys

Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy

Warnings: Little bit sad, DENIAL, Homophobic Comments (Soldier Boy), Cursing, Mentions of drinking, Mentions of using drugs, Sexism, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of torture (Soldier Boy's Time in Russia) Loneliness, Longing (I mean… as close as Soldier Boy can get to it), Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.

Word Count: 6.4K

Song Inspiration For This Chapter: Until I Found You (chapter title is lyric from this song) and Coming Back For You

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

Internal Monologue Is in First Person And Is In Italics

Playlist for Series (Spotify)

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: Oh my goodness I'm so excited about this series and thank you so much to everyone for all the wonderful love and support so far! It really means the world to me 🥰

One Year Ago: Ben POV

Ben squinted his eyes as he stepped out into the brilliant sunshine of the early morning, shouldering the strap of his worn backpack with a huff. The people on the crowded, gum covered sidewalks shot him odd looks and gave him a wide birth as he made his way down the path, but he didn't care, in fact he didn't notice them. His mind was somewhere else.

He wasn't sure where he was going, just that something in the pit of his stomach was pointing him in this direction. Ben had started walking in what he thought was the way to Legend's apartment, but the streets looked so different than the last time he was in New York and he was a little turned around, but he wasn't going to admit that to anyone.

And there was something in the pit of his stomach, some instinct or gut feeling, that was telling him he needed to go this way.

It was an odd feeling that prickled on the back of his neck, as if he'd forgotten something. Ben wondered what exactly it was that he'd forgotten. He hadn’t spoken aloud to anyone other than the scientists who kept him locked in a cage so he didn’t exactly have a social calendar to follow up on.

I've been locked in a lab for forty fucking years, what is there to forget?

But the more he thought about it, the more it seemed just out of reach.

Ben raised his eyes from the sidewalk with a sigh to look at the people passing by, taking in their new clothing and different hairstyles to distract himself. He frowned at the bizarre groups of people to him that flit by on their merry way, muttering little things under his breath about how things used to be.

Ben had a feeling that he was going to be doing that a lot.

New York City was different, the same, but different. Even though Ben had been gone for forty years, it still felt like the center of the universe. There were still hot dog vendors on every street corner, still magazine stands with freshly printed newspapers that smelled like ink and were warm to the touch, still coffee shops that lined the streets and caffeinated the masses, and there were still cab drivers who wove through traffic as if they were unstoppable shouting at pedestrians as they went.

The memories he had of old New York City merged together with what he was seeing around him and felt himself slipping into the past only to be jolted back into reality by the strangeness of the future.

He didn't like feeling disoriented, but it was there, brimming just under the surface. His body was tense as he walked prepared for anything, unable to relax as he continued on his way to wherever the hell it was he was going.

The morning sunlight reflected off the glass windows of the skyscrapers that worshiped the rising sun and the sounds of the city vibrated against the brick and mortar. There was a buzz of electricity in the air, the low hum of power that Ben could always hear beneath it all. Cars honked sharply, people shouted in colorful language to one another, and the wind rustled through the long strands of Ben's hair crinkling against his ears and scratching against his neck.

He hadn't had time to cut it or his beard and it didn't seem to be as important as finding Legend and getting his affairs in order.

The smell of hotdogs, earth, cologne, and heavy perfume wafted up with the breeze that tugged and pulled at his sweatsuit. The same stained sweatsuit he had found in a rust covered locker before hiding in the cargo hold of a plane headed back to the U.S that was probably almost as old as him. The plane ride had been long, but when he'd been in a lab for the past forty years it seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. He spent the whole time stewing in his thoughts. He'd slept enough and like hell he was going to drift off and let those Russian fucks take him again.

Ben sighed when he felt his memories begin to unravel on the edge of his mind, unfurling and asking to be relived. It wasn't unusual or unwelcome. Ben was using those memories to justify what he was going to do to his old team. As long as the rage continued to burn against his skin, Ben would have no problem breaking each of them down piece by piece.

Ben didn't understand how his team could have done that to him or why they'd done it to him. He thought that he'd been a good leader, a good American, a good soldier, a good hero, and yet they'd all stabbed him in the back. Sure, maybe he'd been a little rough on them, but Ben saw it as the only way to toughen them up. They needed thicker skin if they were going to survive in a world like this.

All I've done is give my fucking life to this country and what did they do? They gave me to the fucking reds.

His hand tightens on the strap of his backpack as he weaves through the crowds, trying his best to keep to himself when all he can feel is his anger and frustration building and burning hot under his rib cage. His new power stirred beneath the surface, energy beginning to travel through his body, tracing his veins and pulsing in the center of his chest.

I should have seen it coming. I should have killed that entire fucking bunch of pussies the second I had the chance. Especially that bitch.

His frowned at the thought of Countess.

Truthfully, when the two of them started messing around it was only because Countess's soulmate had died a few years before and Ben knew he wasn't going to meet his soon if anytime. He'd messed around with plenty of other women for the same reason and well…

Ben's frown deepened as he stepped around a couple that was walking arm and arm, the dates on their wrists flashing gold in the sunlight. He ignores the feeling that comes when he sees them, pushes it down into the deep recesses of his mind as he has done his whole life.

Since he was a kid, Ben wasn't sure that he believed the "soulmate thing." Sure he'd seen hundreds of other people around him find "the one," but Ben wasn't sure that he was made to be a soulmate. Especially not with a birthdate on his wrist so far in the future. He assumed that it meant he wasn't going to get a soulmate and he'd spent the better part of his life pretending that he didn't care about that. He was a man after all, and Ben didn't want to need anyone. At least, that was what he told himself.

Ben had lived long enough to see other soulmates find one another, witnessed the goofy looks on their faces when they locked eyes for the first time, and had the super hearing to listen to what came next.

But instead of focusing on the impossibility to meeting his own, Ben focused on the lie he told himself, that it seemed ridiculous to be intertwined with someone as soon as he was born. Not to mention that Ben wasn't sure that he wanted to be with someone, not when he didn't age and not when he'd have to watch whoever it was, if anyone turn to dust.

Yes, he could see himself settling down with someone, having a few kids, but Ben wasn't sure that whoever was supposed to be his other half was within reach anyway so why care? Ben knew that he didn't age, but he didn't actually think he'd ever get to meet you or that you would actually ever exist. Not when you were born so far away from him and not when he'd been trapped in that lab.

But that didn't stop a part of him from thinking about the possibility of meeting you. When things were quiet in the lab and he was left alone for a few precious moments, he felt his mind begin to slip into the question of what if?

What if you existed and what if you came for him?

He knew that it was a long shot. The only people that knew he was there were the people who stabbed him in the back. And Ben didn't want to cling to some fantasy, it felt feminine to fanaticize about the person who was supposedly meant for him breaking down the thick metal door and pulling him from the lab.

Again, Ben was trying not to believe in the "soulmate bullshit."

Countess had been a way of passing the time as had the numerous other women, but with them were moments when he'd feel something odd settle in his chest, something that he never could put a name to. In those moments he would raise his right arm and look at the birthdate printed on his wrist, the same one that Ben had kept hidden for most of his life, the one that when he was a boy people mocked him for, and the one his father chastised him for having as if it was Ben's fault that some celestial body had decided to single him out.

All of his childhood friends had found their soulmates and Ben had spent the better part of his life covering it up to avoid the conversation that always happened when someone saw the date. No ones soulmate was born so far in the future and Ben’s father had spent a lot of money making sure that word didn’t get out his son was a freak.

His father already made Ben feel like a disappointment and a fuck-up, but Ben was already thinking it himself every time he looked at the date printed on his wrist that seemed impossible. When his mother was alive she would try her best to make Ben feel better telling him that it wasn't impossible, that one day it would all make sense, but after her death Ben stopped feeling comfort, joy, and anything warm. All he felt was the cold shoulder from his father and the words that Ben pretended didn't hurt when his father was halfway through his second bottle of scotch with a third prepped and waiting on the kitchen table.

It made Ben feel like a pussy every time he looked at the mark and thought about his future soulmate, but he did it in private, usually after he'd had a few glasses of something and a few puffs or snuffs of something else to numb his mind. And he'd allow himself a single moment to think of you, wonder if he'd ever meet you, and wondered if you'd ever actually exist. In those few fleeting moments he believed in soulmates, but then he'd snap out of it and wake up the woman in bed next to him to distract him for another hour or so.

Ben's eyes flick to his right wrist covered by the gray and maroon tracksuit, his brow furrowing together. He was trying not to think about you or rather the possibility of you today. He didn't have time for that, not when all he wanted was to make his old team pay for everything they did to him.

But there was a little whisper of something in his ear, a small wisp of hope that he had finally made it to you, the one thing he didn’t think would ever happen, that he lived long enough to be alive the same year you were, and that you were out there somewhere waiting for him.

No. Ben tenses. I'm not going to think about her, not when those butt fucks need to be dealt with. I'm going to go to Legend's and then I'm going to-

He didn't see you in front of him until it was too late to move out of the way. Your body hits his full on in the chest, sending the bagel between your lips tumbling into the street, but Ben barely feels the hit, what he does feel is the dam he built forever ago burst open and warmth soaks into his body. Electricity skitters along his skin, crackling in the air as his eyes lock with yours only for a second. He feels like he's caught fire, as if the pieces of himself deep down inside are overheating and vibrating until there's nothing left, but you and him.

Any thoughts he had of his team and revenge are lost in the flood of emotions that fill the hole inside he tried so hard to ignore with the lie he continued to tell himself: “I don't believe in soulmates.”

And yet, there you were.

He can hear his heart and yours beating together as one, his own pounding so hard under his ribcage as if it wishes to break free and cross the space between your bodies. Seeing you for the first time feels like taking a bullet to the chest, the sharp jolt backwards when it lands and the pinch of flesh against Kevlar. It was worth the bruise if looking at you was the same way each time.

Ben can feel the world slipping away, going silent, and in that silence Ben is lost in you.

Holy Fuck.

You were the perfect amalgamation of every single beautiful woman that Ben had ever seen and fantasized about in his entire life. And yet you weren't what he was expecting. Over the years Ben had bedded many women, the ones who captured his attention for a night, but none of them were anything like you.

In all the ways those women were bold and dramatic you were confident, but not boisterous, beautiful but not haughty, respectful but not prude, and there was a kindness reflected in the warmth of your eyes that Ben had never seen before, but there it was staring back at him unblinkingly.

You reminded him of the women that came arm in arm with men to his parents lavish parties when he was a boy, the ones who were classically beautiful and reserved with the golden dates on their wrists catching in the light. The exact kind of woman he hadn’t seen for the better part of eighty years and the opposite of the women who had thrown themselves at his feet forty years ago.

Your hair falls forward into your face from the force of your body hitting his and Ben itches to push it back, to touch you, to feel his skin against yours to quench the burning that he can feel in his soul.

All of his instincts are telling him to pull you against him, that you're too far away even though you're standing only inches apart. That he needs to breathe the same air and feel the warmth of your skin against his rough fingertips.

The birthmark on his right wrist sears his skin and he knows what it means, that you're the woman he's been looking for his whole life, the woman that always seemed just out of his grasp, the woman that was made just for him, and the woman he thought would never exist.

He watches your eyes widen with the same realization about him behind your round glasses, eyes that are the perfect color and eyes that Ben can imagine staring in to every day for the rest of his life. He'd never wanted to spend more than one night with a woman, never wanted more, but all of that fades into you.

The idea of a soulmate no longer seems ridiculous, no longer seems like something he’d never have, not when he’s looking into your eyes and nothing else seems to matter.

Not when looking at you is like seeing the sun sink into the earth at the end of the day and feeling the hope that it'll rise the next morning.

The lie he told himself for so long is slipping away the longer he stares at you, because although he never wanted to want anyone he knows that he needs you. It's an odd feeling for him. He's never once cared about anyone, told himself that it was weak to, that having a soulmate was a stupid idea and not for him, but all of the things he ever thought about soulmates is evaporating in the heat that is consuming his body by being in your presence.

Why now?

The thought makes the world come back into sharper focus.

I've lived decades without her and now the moment I come back to the U.S I just run into her?

It was laughable .

The moment of clarity allows the fantasies of his revenge to come creeping in and Ben feels the anger and rage ebbing on the edge of the wonderful feeling building in his chest when he looks at you.

You weren't a supe. Ben could tell that just by looking at you. He didn't think he'd ever seen someone so soft and yet someone that he wanted to possess so badly that it almost hurt to stand inches away from you.

I don't want her to be apart of this.

The thought is immediate, stirring some primal urge within to protect what's his. Because you were his. You were the missing piece that he pretended not to need and the woman who always seemed to slip into his mind when he was alone and all was quiet,.

The thoughts of what he's about to do to his teammates come surging up and he didn't want you involved in any of that. Not when he knew that he needed to protect you, that he'd drag you along, and you'd see all the ugly parts of him and see the horror of what he was about to do.

He didn't want that for you, he didn’t want the first time that he met you to be like this, him looking like he'd crawled out from under a rock and full of so much anger, rage, and frustration it felt like he was going to explode, him having a new uncontrollable power that meant he might hurt you, and him being unable to give you his full attention when all he could think about was the team that stabbed him in the back.

What he was, was selfish, he knew that about himself.

But I won't be this selfish.

Ben had made many mistakes his life, he knew that, had done some things that he wasn't proud of, but you wouldn’t be one of them. He didn't want to put you in danger and realized that there was only one way to protect you, because after all, he was the only one who knew that you existed.

His eyes trace your face one more time, memorizing it before he does what he thinks is right. Ben turns away from you and forces himself to keep walking. Each cell in his body is screaming at him to turn around, to run back to you, but he can't. He doesn't want it to be like this and he knows that you deserve better.

I won't do this to her.

“Wait-“ He hears you shout over the sounds of the street.

The sound of your voice is a soothing melody, a warm soak in a hot bath, a steady hand against his back, and a salve over the gaping hole where a piece of him was missing for so long, the hole that he tried to ignore his whole life. He grits his teeth and continues to walk away from you, each step feeling like he's walking through tar the further he gets.

And deep down Ben is hoping that he did the right thing and makes a promise that he'll come back for you.

Present Day Ben POV

Why the fuck am I coming to this thing again?

Ben thought to himself standing outside the closed apartment door holding an expensive bottle of scotch. The same bottle of scotch that he was going to break open as soon as he crossed the threshold to get through this. He didn’t think that Hughie would appreciate it the way he would anyway.

Probably drinks those fucking fruity drinks with the umbrellas.

Ben didn’t understand why Hughie had invited him to this party or why Annie would let him invite Ben to it. Ben knew how much she hated him and the feeling was mutual.

Ben sighs as he stares at the door thinking about walking back to the elevator.

Invited was a strong word. Ben had overheard Hughie talking about it in the break room with MM and when Ben walked in, Hughie felt the need to fill the awkward silence by inviting Ben to the housewarming party.

Ben didn't know why anyone needed a housewarming party, but he chocked it up to another thing about the 21st century that he didn't quite understand.

He thought about all the people inside that he saw at work everyday, the ones that he tried to avoid all shoved in the apartment in front of him and groaned to himself.

Fuck, I should just go home.

Ben frowned at the thought of going back to his extravagant penthouse apartment downtown. The one that was two stories with a private balcony, six bedrooms, five bathrooms, a study, a media room, an exercise room, and overlooked Central Park with a view that would make anyone else salivate. His real estate agent had been surprised when Ben hadn't batted an eye at the price, but Ben didn't think about money the same way everyone else did.

He didn't have to, not with the money he'd earned over the years and not with the money his father, grandfather, and great grandfather in his accounts.

When he'd first bought the apartment he had been happy to get out from under Butcher's eye, who had a tendency to watch Ben like a hawk whenever he thought that Ben wasn't paying attention. But the apartment was large and cold, furnished with furniture that Ben had hired some twenty year old interior designer to buy, who charged him an outrageous amount of money to do absolutely nothing. She'd called it "minimalism," Ben called it "a fucking rip off."

Not one piece of furniture was comfortable to him and being there never felt like home. Then again, Ben didn't have a "home" to compare it to. His family mansion back in Philadelphia after his mother died had been cold and most of the rooms were closed off and the apartment he had in New York before he went to Russia was almost as big as his new one, but it never seemed like home. It always seemed like a way station, a place for Ben to entertain women for a short while before he went to a commercial shoot, a party, or on location for a film.

Even his cleaning lady and housekeeper would comment on the little things about his apartment that Ben tried to ignore. Honestly, Ben thought that she was fucking nosy, but she did her job well so he kept her on.

That and because he couldn't seem to remember her name no matter how many checks he wrote.

Ben didn’t like being in his apartment at all, but he knew that it wouldn't change if he moved. It wasn't where he lived that was the problem, it was that you weren't there with him.

It had been an entire year since he'd seen you and every day Ben walked the same path he had the day he met you for the first time hoping to run in to you. He didn’t have your name or your address or anything that he could have someone at work plug into a computer to find you. He'd tried to "google" you, but there was only so much he could do with the little information he had and he didn't understand how to find you other than the old fashioned way.

So he was back to sitting home alone every night trying his best not to notice how empty the apartment was, the one he bought that was more than big enough for two people. Sometimes he tried to stay out as long as he could to avoid going back to it, but each time he went through the front door it only emphasized how empty it was.

Ben's life was empty. He hadn't realized that before, but nowadays he was hyperaware of it. In the past he would have filled his life with women eager to warm his bed, but ever since he saw you Ben hadn't been able to think about anyone else.

Ben couldn't remember the last time he felt this frustrated and it only made everything harder for him. And as much as he tried to relieve the tension it never seemed like it was enough. He needed you.

And after he spent twelve months trying his best and he was tired of feeling restless he tried to pick up a woman in a bar.

Every cell in his body screamed wrong at the top of its lungs when he spoke to her, using lines that he'd perfected since he was a teenager. Ben knew he was good at that, but he fumbled the ball each time he opened his mouth. He tried to shake off the ghost of you, but when he spoke to the woman leaning against the aged wooden bar with a martini in her hand and wearing a dress that left little to the imagination, he got a flash in the corner of his eye of someone coming in through the door and he'd thought it was you.

He hadn't been expected to feel so ashamed, guilty, and embarrassed at the thought of you catching him with someone else. He'd been sleeping with women longer than you'd been alive and he'd never felt that way, but now that he knew you existed and knew there was a possibility of you running in to him, it was all different.

Ben's outlook on soulmates being "ridiculous" had evaporated on the spot the moment he locked eyes with you. He couldn't pretend that he didn't care anymore and couldn't pretend that you didn't exist.

How could he when you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen? How could he when a piece of him was with you? How could he when you were always on his mind?

He'd never had a woman have a hold on him so completely in his entire life, but you did.

She fucking does and I only saw her once.

It only made him feel worse. He wondered if he'd made the right decision when he turned his back on you.

Sometimes he liked to think back to the moment of when he first saw you when everything was quiet and he was sitting up in his bed staring down at the mark on his wrist that shone a brilliant gold. His mind would slip into those few moments of bliss and he would wonder what would have happened f he just said "fuck it" and didn't go after Payback, if he'd stopped and asked for your name, and allowed you to let him forget everything that happened in the past forty years so he could start his life with you.

Unfortunately, those moments were usually followed by the same self-deprecating thoughts that Ben had, the chauvinistic ones that he'd carried with him over the years, and the ones that his father had impressed on him from the moment he could walk and Ben couldn't seem to shake.

He'd berate himself about how it was stupid and pussy-like to pine over a woman.

Because that's what he was doing, he was pining over you and he didn't like it.

He didn't want to think of you as much as he did, but he couldn't help it. Now that Ben knew you existed he didn't want to miss out on another moment of your life.

Of course, he couldn't find you and that was the problem. Sometimes he wondered if you were looking for him as hard as he was looking for you, if you walked the same way each hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

The dreams didn't make it any better. He'd never heard of someone living the memories of their soulmate when they slept, but every night he was subjected to watching your life and it only made him want to find you more.

He'd never knew that someone could feel so lonely surrounded by people, never knew that someone could feel so out of place, and never knew that someone could be as sad as you were, but each time he relieved a memory of yours at night Ben could feel his heart twinge.

Ben watched the lonely birthdays you spent with a cupcake and a beer for him, saw the jeers of the people in your hometown and the pitying looks from your parents, felt your shoulders shake when you cried alone in your room and stared at the birthdate on your wrist, and he felt you losing hope as each year passed.

Ben didn't usually allow himself to feel emotion like that, but watching you go through it all hurt him more than anything those Russian fucks did to him. He wasn't used to that and he wasn't used to thinking about other people as much as he thought about you.

But something about him felt different after meeting you.

Ben had asked Legend about soulmates, specifically the dreams, but Legend had muttered something unintelligible under his breath and took another snort of cocaine from the mirror on the coffee table instead of answering. Their relationship had been a little awkward after Ben slept with Legend's soulmate forty years ago, but Legend didn’t seem to be too upset about it… anymore. Mostly because Legend's soulmate tried to pull a Lorena Bobbitt one night and Legend caught her before any permanent damage was done.

She was in prison, and Ben didn't understand why Legend still went to see her for conjugal visits, but he figured that she was as much of a freak as his old handler.

Just rip the bandaid off you fucking pussy.

Ben thought staring at the clean white door in front of him.

Truthfully, Ben was tired. He'd been running himself harder for the last month, throwing himself into his work because he was starting to believe that he was never going to meet you again, and it seemed like work was the only thing that could distract him long enough. But he couldn't escape sleep.

When he'd come back from Russia, Ben had avoided sleeping the best way he could and he got through a few days before he collapsed. The first dream he'd had of you had come on suddenly, but clear as day.

You reading on your bed in your apartment smiling down at the pages as if it the book was telling you a secret.

Ben wasn't a reader, didn't see any merit in it if it wasn't a western or a war book. The most he could tolerate was Ernest Hemingway, but he could have sat there and watched you read forever. You looked so peaceful, content, and happy that Ben was afraid to interrupt you even though it was just a dream.

But whenever he thought about you dreaming his memories, something dark settled in the back of his mind, because what were you seeing? He'd done a few things he wasn't proud of and Ben didn't want you to think that he wasn't a hero or that he was a bad guy.

Ben sighs and raises his hand to knock hard against the door with his free hand, trying not to open the bottle preemptively before entering the apartment.

"Ben?" Hughie says it like a question when he opens the door, eyes wide with the same stupid look on his face that always grates on Ben.

Ben forces his signature tight lipped smile that he flashes around the office. "Hey there sport."

"Hey. Wow, you're here." Hughie clears his throat and looks over his shoulder as if he's nervous about something.

Ben raises an eyebrow. "I was invited."

"Well yes but-"

"But?"

"Um-"

"Spit it out dipstick."

Hughie clears his throat. "I didn't think you would come."

Fuck I should have stayed home. He doesn't want me here, neither does his fucking beard.

Ben frowns listening to where Annie groans under her breath further inside the apartment and talks low under her breath to someone that Ben can't see.

"Well surprise and congratulations or whatever." Ben rolls his eyes holding out the bottle of scotch. He was hesitant to lose sight of it, not when talking to Hughie for less than five minutes made him want to down the whole bottle.

"Oh wow this is really," Hughie's eyes widen as he takes in the label and realize how much money Ben spent on the bottle. "Expensive stuff, thanks Ben."

"It'll put some hair on your chest." Ben claps Hughie hard on the shoulder as he pushes past him into the foyer of the apartment.

The entire apartment could have fit in Ben's living room and kitchen. It was made in a similar fashion to his, sleek white walls, sterling silver appliances, large glass windows that let in the light-

Ben stops so suddenly inside the area that leads into the kitchen that Hughie plows into his back, but Ben doesn't feel it.

He can't move, can't breathe, because he's noticed the person talking to Annie is you. This was the last place that he'd expected you to be, but he doesn't care, because you're here and you're more beautiful than he remembers.

You're standing there pouring ice from a large bag into a pink acrylic bucket with an adorable amount of concentration for such a simple task wearing the same sweater you were the day he first saw you. You're also wearing a little more makeup and your hair is longer, and not pulled back into the messy bun as it was that day, but you’re still you and you’re here.

His fingers twitch with the urge to run his hands through the tangled tresses, to feel if they're as soft as he imagined for so long.

Ben's body swells with emotion, goosebumps flicker over his skin, and all other sounds in the room vanish, because seeing you was like watching the sun rise and feeling the world hold it's breath as it basks in the early morning rays.

And Ben wanted to bask in everything you were, every day for the rest of his life. Now that he found you again he wasn't going to let you out of his sight.

Your soul sings to him as he nears you, the cells in his body vibrating so fast that he can feel every single one begging him to touch you.

You turn into him by accident, sending the bag of ice tumbling to the floor, but feeling your body against his sends him into overdrive and he can't hold back anymore. He reaches out to grab your shoulder as gently as he can without hurting you.

Hurting you was the last thing he wanted to do. And because you weren’t a supe he knew how fragile you were.

You gasp under your breath at the contact from his hand, but to Ben it sounds thunderous in his ears. Ben trails his hand across your shoulder, up your neck, to cup your chin and raise your face to look at him. He feels like his whole body is igniting as he makes contact with your skin.

He can feel an odd vibration in his chest as he does so, energy crackling and pulsing around the two of you, but the rest of the room falls silent. He can’t look away from you, not when seeing you again is like staring too long at the sun and he's left with the imprint of your light and beauty on the inside of his eyelids.

Ben can't focus on anything else, doesn’t hear the awkward chatter, doesn't feel the discomfort he had upon his arrival, doesn't notice the way everyone has turned to stare at the two of you, and doesn't feel the air conditioning turn on and blow cool air against his warm freckled skin.

All he knows is you.

Your eyes are wide and he suspects his are as well, pupils blown but still beautiful and hypnotic as they were one year ago. Ben feels a smile pulling at his lips and he lets it go, because standing in front of you, feeling like this, it’s impossible to do much else.

Your skin is warm to the touch beneath the roughness of his fingertips and he touches you with a reverence that he has never graced anyone else with, because you were his. Every part of you was made for him just as every part of him was made for you.

The your soul was calling out to him, weaving a golden cord of energy in his mind that snagged in the center of his chest and made him feel whole for the first time in life.

You reach out to touch him, the soft palm of your hand falling just over his heart and it makes something inside him break open to flood the space between the two of you.

Hope stirs in his chest with your gentle touch and your unblinking gaze, warmth trailing from where your hand lays against his shirt. His eyes drop to the wrist to see his birthdate, a glowing ember against your skin where the sleeve of your sweater has fallen down an inch.

Your eyes lock with his once more, full lips slightly parted, and breathless.

"I've been looking everywhere for you sweetheart." Ben murmurs, trailing his thumb across your cheek with a gentleness that he's never possessed.

Ben was not a gentle man, but for you he would try. He would be anything you wished him to be, for as long as he lived, because now that he found you, he was never going to let you go.

And he welcomed the challenge of anyone who tried to stand in his way.

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

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#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy #lovelyreaders

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