#experienced both. hurricanes are worse.

[andromeda3116]

I mentioned it in my tags, but I think it's worth pointing out in the post proper as well:

Strong hurricanes spawn tornadoes. And particularly in the northeastern quadrant of the hurricane, which is the strongest region of the cyclone. So it's a two-fer, you have the tornadoes hearkening the arrival of the strongest part of the inner bands/eye wall. Like a preview of the fun the next days/weeks/months of your life will be. As a treat.

So it's no contest. Hurricanes are worse, because of *gestures at everything* but also you get tornadoes along with big hurricanes, so you don't even have to choose between them!

I need to settle an argument

reblogs VERY much encouraged, please feel free to prove reasoning in the tags or replies

[thebuttsmcgee]

so. um. 👉👈

hi guysies.

Ig I should just say like. Hi

I haven't been posting here as much cause. Idk. Might be depression? I keep thinking its cause I've been so busy, which also wouldn't be not untrue, but these past, like, 3 weeks I think so far? I've had some free time but I haven't cause. I dunno, then again, I haven't been doing too much in general? I gues, besides very mandatory things, hell I've even been lacking in my regular skyrim hours of playing.

That, and as said, I get super melancholic when I remember just how sad and bittersweet it is that t0h is. Actually legit over. The show and experience, that is.

Oh all that and also becuz my headphones broke! Fuck! That's like number 2 in my bare necessities for when I post, do almost anything really! It's seriously been painful this past month going without headphones holy shit. Dude I've been scratching at the bit for some relief for headphones, I NEED music legitimately. Even right now, as I'm typing this on my phone, my music is on low levels.

But yerp. Its been. Rough. Really rough. I really do appreciate yall, everyone of yall. Have a sweet week everyone, ✌️!

[kissingwookiees]

hurricane prep includes timing when i should wash my hair before i lose power and running water

[yandere-paramour]

Yans During a Hurricane

In honor of a hurricane absolutely ravaging my state, here is some content before my power goes out.

Vivien

Vivien is worried. Like really worried.

He lives in an apartment, so he's not worried about his indoor plants, he's worried about his plot at the community garden. He doesn't care how wet it is outside, he will do whatever he can to try and save those tomatoes.

He's also worried about you and him. Obviously, he wants you to come over, the thought of you weathering the storm alone is physically painful.

He tries to think of everything you both might need from snacks, making sure both your cars are gassed up, and collecting plenty of batteries and flashlights.

It's like he's planning for doomsday, he's really worried. The thought of being unprepared and something happening to you because of his hubris makes his stomach seize up.

He gets stressed and tries to turn that into making things. He does a lot of cooking and baking for the two of you, making enough so you don't have to leave the house for a few days and can just stay inside and wait.

You're going to have to somehow get him to calm down and relax otherwise he will work himself into a state.

His apartment building isn't the best so, of course, you are the first in the city to lose power. You both gasp in unison at the sudden way everything grows quiet.

Vivien nearly cries when the cookies he's baking suddenly stop. The thought of not being able to provide for you is very, very upsetting to him.

You'll have to redirect/cajole him into a new activity that doesn't require electricity like tending to his plants, that always calms him down. Or maybe build a blanket fort, rainy days like this are perfect for blanket forts.

Gently you poke into his side and ask if he wants to build a fort on the rug, and he gives you a quizzical look, wondering if you're making fun of him or something.

When it becomes clear you're serious, his face lights up and he drags every single chair, pillow, and blanket in the apartment.

He is very strategic as he builds, and you just let him do his thing, knowing he needs this to be able to feel secure.

When it's done, your fort is a masterpiece. It is large enough for you both to crawl inside, and Vivien has decorated it with some small battery-operated tealights so there's enough light to see. The many pillows are comfortable to sit on, and you both giggle like excited children as you both do a craft together.

You two spend the night cuddled in each other's arms in, snacking on fresh fruit, talking about nothing, and listening to the melodic rains outside, and finally, Vivien is able to take a breath and know that this storm will pass and you and he will be okay.

Atalanta

Do you really think Atalanta Montclair is going to stick around and have to deal with running out of food and her power cutting out? Get real.

She, her parents, and, by extension, you are getting tf out of there.

Atalanta makes the executive decision to shut down Montclair Industries for a few days. She doesn't want her employees to have to work when they should be with their families, and she definitely doesn't want anyone to get hurt or worse in the process of working.

Whatever happens, she'll deal with it when she comes back.

She even puts Noelle in charge with a promise of a bonus while she's gone (And you know Noelle's taking that shit, there is nothing that could come up that Noelle couldn't handle)

Somewhere where a hurricane is not currently raging, that's where you're going.

Enjoy a nice sunny weekend with your wife and In-Laws!

Lots of normal Montclair activities (beach lounging, fancy dinners, going to the theatre, museum browsing, generally experiencing what it's like to be in another part of the world)

Any worries you have about things back home, Atalanta will soothe and comfort you and generally do everything she can to make you calm down. If it makes you feel better, she can give some employees a quick call to make sure everything is perfectly fine.

She wants you to enjoy the little vacation with her, so just let her send a quick text, and then she'll get you another fruity drink so you have something to sip on while you both walk through the night market.

Noelle

Noelle is mildly concerned, but she is not going to pass up a few days off to spend with her Darling.

Atalanta left Noelle in charge of the company while she's gone with promises of a sizable bonus (and you know if Ata says sizable, she means it), but that's really only for anything big or emergent.

Basically, all she has to do is keep her phone charged and nearby, and check it every once in a while, and that's an extra few thousand on her paycheck.

Noelle is very pleased about that.

You're usually alone during the day, but now Noelle is here with you! You're so happy to spend so much time with her!

To begin your little respite, both of you start with a relaxing bath together, which always turns into a little skincare/spa night. Noelle is so very gentle as she wipes your face with toner, and you get to see her cute puzzled look as she surmises which face mask to give you.

As a little treat, she orders in from whatever restaurant you like best and you both eat on the couch, laughing at a movie you pick. She cradles you in your arms, kissing your arms and hands and hair because she doesn't want to mess up your moisturizer.

After the first movie, Noelle inspects her supplies. Of course, she has everything she needs, but she may need to top off your snack stash if you've been hardcore snacking this week.

Anything you need, she will quickly get delivered so you both can spend the next few days being as comfortable as possible (with a generous tip for the delivery guy for braving the pouring rains).

She lives in a much nicer apartment than Vivien, so her electricity never cuts out so you both stay comfortable and warm the whole weekend.

Noelle spends the entire weekend absolutely doting on you. Anything you like, she is doing with you and making sure to praise you for every breath you take. She will paint with you, bake with you, even game with you (but she's terrible). She knows she's terrible, but she just wants you to have fun.

You catch her watching you with tender eyes many times, and you are just so touched by how much she loves you and how well she takes care you. You in your matching pajamas, clean and moisturized, fed by some chicken and rice Noelle cooked for you, soft and sleepy and ready for her to brush your hair and cuddle you to sleep, humming that little song she always hums for you.

By the time the hurricane has passed, you're severely disappointed that Noelle has to go back to work, but she just kisses and comforts you, saying that if you be a good girl and wait for her, she'll bring you a treat back later.

[izurusstuff]

“Maybe I’m okay with accepting his deal…”

(SPOILERS FOR THIRD SEMESTER OF PERSONA 5 ROYAL!!!)

summary: phantom thief reader (gender neutral) x takuto maruki (but a secret relationship woahhh). yeah this involves guidance counselor x student reader but i’m having the reader be a third year or some sort of teaching assistant because the law and not being morally fucked up is cool!! also this is a bit all over the place so beware

message from izurusstuff: hey guys sorry it’s been crazy 🙏🏼🙏🏼 i’ve been super duper busy with university and i lost all motivation to write outside of academia (boooo, useless writing) but c.ai keeps annoying the hell out of me with “can i ask you a question?” so i decided to say fuck it and do it myself. also my life kinda got turned upside down because a hurricane wiped my hometown off the map so that’s not very fun :((

This all started the day Takuto Maruki was sent to Shujin Academy to console the victims of Suguru Kamoshida. Y/N wasn’t necessarily one of them, but they knew of what was happening since they were assisting some of the extracurricular teachers during that time. Honestly? If it weren’t for the Phantom Thieves, Y/N probably would’ve gone after Kamoshida anyway…

Yet some sort of fate led Y/N to cross the path of the Phantom Thieves— whether it was the work of some cruel deity or sheer bad luck, Y/N figured out the identity of all the Thieves and awakened to their persona after the death of Principal Kobayakawa (they accidentally got drawn in to Okumura’s palace). So when they noticed Dr. Maruki was researching cognitive pscience, Y/N warned the other Thieves. Apparently, Y/N was the last to know. They trusted Maruki wholeheartedly for some reason, which made Y/N even more cold to the poor guidance counsellor…

Then Okumura died. On live television, in front of his only daughter, he became the newest victim of a mental shutdown. Y/N’s trust in the Phantom Thieves went down the drain. Did they really kill Haru’s dad?! Why the HELL would they do that?! He wasn’t the best person, but to execute him in front of his daughter? Who WERE these people that Y/N was working with?

So now, they found comfort in the guidance counsellor they mistrusted at the beginning. Y/N would spend all their free time in the office of the tenured Maruki— and it was the most relaxing thing they experienced. He had snacks, juices, games, beds… everything; obviously he was a good listener too, so that made it easier. But what would never be easy to deal with was Maruki’s approaching departure— he was only contracted to be at Shujin for six months. And to make it worse? Y/N had fallen for him. Hard. But little did Y/N know that he felt the same…

“Takuto…” Y/N murmured, causing him to perk up with his eager brown eyes. And God… that smile… it could melt anyone’s heart…

“Hm? What is it, Y/N?” Maruki responded with a warm tone.

“I’m… going to really miss you. Do you have to leave?”

“I do. I’m so sorry, Y/N. But being a counsellor isn’t my calling… I would gladly renegotiate my contract in order to spend more time with you, but-“ Wait. What? Did Maruki just confess to wanting to spend more time with Y/N?! They remained baffled but pulled him into a close hug nonetheless. Now both of them were blushing with their tears dusting their eyes.

“If I had the chance to change fate so we could have more time together, I absolutely would take it.” Maruki said, pulling them tighter into the embrace while cupping their face. He wiped their tears with the pads of his thumb before leaning into a passionate kiss with them. Ugh. Why couldn’t Y/N have sucked up their disdain for him sooner?! They couldn’t help but blame themself for the reason why they didn’t have more time together; tears fell even faster down Y/N’s cheeks while they reciprocated the kiss— a feeling so great, yet so painful.

“You won’t forget about me here, will you?”

“I could never forget about someone like you, Y/N.”

And that was the last time they had spoken in his office. Of course, they kept in contact while having their love blossom, but it never could replace how much Y/N craved to be held by Maruki again. Yes, he was off doing what he always wanted to, but Y/N couldn’t help how empty it felt without their new lover…

January 1st, 20XX.

While Y/N’s friends got to spend New Years and Christmas with their significant others, they remained lonely in their apartment. Sure, they texted Maruki and video called him multiple times, but it just… didn’t feel the same. So when the new year rolled around, Y/N didn’t feel anything other than the absence of their beloved Maruki.

Until they got a text.

“Hey, my Y/N! <3 I’m outside! I’m not sure whether or not you wanted iced coffee or hot, so I got both!”

It was from Maruki? He wasn’t supposed to be back in Tokyo for at LEAST two more months. Why was he outside? Was this a prank? Y/N rushed outside to see if it was some cruel joke, but it wasn’t. Maruki was in front of them, holding their favorite coffee in his gloved hands. They stared up at him in disbelief for a bit then pulled him in for a kiss. Then another text came in from Y/N’s… friend…? Enemy? What even was he? Not the point. It was Goro Akechi, who they all assumed to be dead since they literally saw his demise in his father’s palace.

“Please tell me you didn’t fall into this false reality too. Someone must be smart enough to tell that something’s off.”

Y/N looked at their phone, then back at Maruki in even more disbelief. This was reality, wasn’t it?

Y/N’s internal question was answered nearly soon after they thought of it— Okumura was nearby with his daughter, Haru.

What had Maruki done?

[pocket-sized-nightmare]

my third entry for @mcyt-yuri-week!

prompt: hurt/comfort

ship: gem/pearl (hermitcraft)

The first few days after coming back from a death game are always the hardest.

Pearl is having an easier time with it than she did after Double Life, but she’s still struggling to adjust to her life on Hermitcraft. The sound of ticking clocks or the shimmer of enchanted items still makes her freeze up, and it takes several reminders from multiple Hermits before Pearl remembers she’s allowed to wear a helmet again.

Luckily, she’s not the only one in that position – all the other Limited Life hermits are experiencing the same problems. False jokes to Pearl a few days after they all get back that she can tell who played the death game by who’s wearing an incomplete set of armor. Pearl is glad to be able to laugh about it again, but she has the sinking feeling that she’s simply burying her trauma under bad jokes. Still, she can laugh off almost anything… except for storms.

If ticking clocks were a symbol of impending death, thunder showed its unavoidable presence. A clap of thunder and a lightning strike accompanied every final death in Limited Life, and Pearl has learned to associate the sound with the loss of someone she loves. She has her strategies for dealing with it – earmuffs, Otherside and Cat on repeat, and trying to sleep through the worst of Hermitcraft’s weather – but they can’t solve everything.

About a week after the end of Limited Life, this turns out to be a problem.

Pearl is mid-flight back to her base when storm clouds abruptly gather above her. She sighs and flies faster, hoping to make it back home before the rain starts.

Unfortunately, the rain starts less than five seconds later.

It quickly escalates from a few drops to a pouring rainstorm. Pearl rolls her eyes, pulls her hood over her head, and tries to keep flying. With any luck, she’ll make it home before the water weighs down her wings.

A few minutes pass, and the rain only worsens. Panic begins to build in Pearl’s chest. She knows what storms look like, and this doesn’t seem normal for one of them. As if to confirm her fears, a beeping alarm suddenly rings out from her communicator. She takes her eyes off the sky for a moment to check the alert.

<Hermitcraft EAS> ADMIN: EMERGENCY ALERT

<xisumavoid> hello everyone

(Despite her anxiety, Pearl almost laughs aloud at the tonal shift.)

<xisumavoid> i’m sure most of you have noticed this by now, but we’re currently experiencing a weather glitch

<xisumavoid> weather commands aren’t working, and the server keeps spawning storms

<xisumavoid> i’m doing my best to fix this as quickly as possible, but until then, it’s only going to worsen

<xisumavoid> everyone needs to take shelter as soon as possible. this is about to turn into a hurricane

There’s a moment of panicked silence, both in the chat and the server at large.

<xisumavoid> limited life people especially i am so sorry. this will be fixed soon

Right on cue, Pearl’s wings become too heavy to move. She glides to the ground and lands painfully in the mud. “Great. No more flying.”

To make things worse, she’s in the middle of an open field. She can just barely see the lights of the Soup Group bases from behind the fog, but her only way to get there is on foot.

An echo of thunder sounds behind her, and she panics and runs.

Pearl stumbles across the muddy field for a few blocks before she realizes she isn’t alone. There’s someone else fighting her way through the hurricane – someone else with bright red hair, deer ears, and antlers.

“Gem!” Pearl screams. The wind drowns out her cries.

Pearl tries to catch her breath against the raging wind. The world feels overwhelming and crushing, and it’s all she can do to hold onto a single affirmation of it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. They’ll be fine. Gem will make it home, and Pearl will make it back to her alien base safely, and they have nothing to be afraid of–

A blinding flash of light and an enormous boom cut through her every thought as a bolt of lightning hits just a few blocks away from her. Gem, startled by the lightning, slips and falls to the ground with an awful thud. Pearl doesn’t realize she’s done the same until she reaches out to steady herself and her hands meet mud and grass. She instinctively reaches for her communicator to check for something, but it takes her a moment to remember what she’s checking for: Who died now?

There's no death message, but it still takes Pearl too long to remember that lightning is a natural phenomenon. She digs her nails into the dirt and takes shuddery breaths as Gem stands and stumbles towards civilization. It's fine. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine…

A glint of shining blue catches Pearl’s eye as it moves slowly across the field in Gem’s direction. Pearl looks up, pushes her sopping wet hair out of her eyes, and freezes. An awful cry of terror fills her lungs and then dies in her throat. She can’t move. She can barely think.

There's a charged creeper after Gem.

Oh, void, Pearl’s mind screams in her ears. Oh, void, no. A charged creeper could kill her so easily, and then she’d be gone. Hermitcraft is supposed to have respawn on, but if the weather can be like this, who’s to say the death mechanics didn’t break too? I can't lose Gem. She means too much to me. I can't lose her. I won't lose her.

Pearl summons all the strength she has left and breaks into a run. The wind pushes her back, but she beats her wings fiercely and fights her way through the storm. Thunder echoes in her ears as she races across the grass, and the rain falls even harder until it seems to form a constant curtain enveloping the world.

The charged creeper hisses and flashes. Gem turns around and finally notices it. She’s experienced creeper explosions before, but a charged creeper is a new one for her. That amount of electricity won’t just kill her – it’ll hurt even after she respawns. Gem shrieks. She tries to run, but she’s fighting a losing battle with the storm. It feels like her feet are frozen to the ground. She’s going to die. Oh, void, she’s absolutely going to die–

Gem’s feet are suddenly swept off the ground as Pearl practically tackles her. As the charged creeper explodes with an earsplitting boom, Pearl wraps Gem in her arms and shields them both from the blast with her wings.

Even once the creeper is gone, Pearl and Gem stay on the ground for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms as they try to catch their breath. Gem buries her head in Pearl’s shoulder and whispers, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Pearl whispers back, trying to hide the pain in her voice.

Gem breathes deeply and pushes herself up to standing, then helps Pearl up. “Come on. We have to get out of here!” Before Pearl can say anything, Gem takes off running, leading Pearl behind her.

Their attempt to make it back to Gem’s house is a battle that seems even more intense than Limited Life. They dodge lightning, try and fail to shield themselves from the pouring rain, and catch each other when they slip on the flooded grass. Through it all, Gem and Pearl refuse to let go of each other’s hands. They’re Hermitcraft’s shiniest duo, the server’s most valuable treasure chest, and if they’re going to survive this storm, they’re going to do it together. (And if Pearl notices that Gem’s hand feels soft and warm in hers, or Gem can’t stop remembering the comforting feeling of Pearl’s arms wrapped around her and wings saving her life, neither of them say it out loud.)

After what seems like an eternity, Gem’s base comes into view. Gem sighs in relief and breaks into a sprint towards the door – only to realize Pearl isn’t holding her hand anymore.

Gem whirls around and sees Pearl collapsed on the ground.

“No!” Gem runs over to her. “Oh, no, Pearl! You took most of the damage from that creeper, didn’t you? Oh, Pearl, no, I wasn’t thinking…” She gently lifts Pearl up and slips her shoulder under Pearl’s arm, supporting Pearl as they both stand back up. “Come on. It’s just a few more blocks to safety. We’re not dying out here. I’ll make sure of it.”

Pearl takes a shuddery breath. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Summoning the last of their energy, Pearl and Gem struggle through the glitching storm and finally reach the safety of Gem’s base.

Gem throws open the door and pushes Pearl inside, then runs in and slams the door. 

Pearl sinks to the floor in pain. “Oh, void, that didn’t go well, did it?”

“It could’ve gone worse. One of us could’ve died.” Gem sits down on the floor next to Pearl. Now that they’re finally in the light, she can finally see the damage Pearl took from the creeper explosion. Pearl’s delicate wings are singed and fluttering randomly, as though there are still tiny currents running through them. From the way she winces when Gem puts a hand on her back, it’s obvious that Pearl’s back and shoulders are covered in even worse burns. Both Gem and Pearl are soaking wet, freezing cold, and covered in cuts and bruises. “I think I’m starting to understand what Limited Life was like,” Gem laughs awkwardly.

Pearl sits back and sighs, wincing with every movement. “Yeah, you’re right. I may have overreacted. I’m so used to associating thunder with permanent death, and then I saw you, and…” Tears involuntarily spark in her eyes, and she does her best to blink them back. “And everything was glitching, and I was worried the respawn code was corrupted too, and…” She can’t hide her tears anymore. “I didn’t want to lose you…”

Gem is about to hug her when she remembers that Pearl’s back is too burned to touch. She settles for cupping Pearl’s face in her hands and kissing her softly on the forehead. “You won’t lose me. You saved me, Pearl.”

“We saved each other,” Pearl whispers back.

They sit there for another moment, too anxious to move, until Gem finally stands up with a determined expression. “Alright, we didn’t go through all that just to die of hypothermia. I have a first-aid kit somewhere in one of these chests, I think. Can I get a health check?”

“Um.” Pearl refuses to make eye contact. “Two hearts.”

“Two?” Gem nearly screams. “Pearl, you have to say these things! I wouldn’t have just sat around here in my living room if I knew you were on the edge of death!” She immediately leaps into action. “Okay, I’m gonna grab you a towel and some dry clothes. I think we’re about the same size. I have some golden apples, healing potions, magma cream… let’s get you fixed up, alright?”

Pearl nods. Gem disappears for a moment, then returns in a new outfit with her hair wrapped in a towel. She carries a small pile of clothes and a purple shulker box with First-Aid Kit written in her signature messy cursive handwriting. “Okay, drink this first.” She hands Pearl a sparkling pink potion. Pearl downs the entire bottle in seconds and sighs in relief as the burning pain in her back lessens bit by bit.

“Better?” Gem asks, taking out two golden apples from the first-aid kit – one for her and one for Pearl. “Here, have one of these, too.”

They eat their golden apples at the same time. Comforting purple sparkles drift around them both, restoring health wherever they fall. Gem wraps Pearl in a towel. “I brought you some dry clothes, if you want to change out of what you’re wearing.”

“That’s really sweet. Thank you so much. It’s just…” Pearl’s voice trails off as she awkwardly gestures to her wings.

“Pearl.” Gem almost laughs. “Do you really think I would hand you clothes I know you can’t wear? Look.”

Pearl unfolds the clothes that Gem gave her. There’s a pair of fuzzy white socks and denim jeans embroidered with sunflowers, but Pearl notices the third item in the pile most of all: a soft blue sweater.

Pearl unfolds the sweater and holds it up. The phases of the moon are stitched into the front, the sleeves are the perfect length, and–

She flips it over and realizes something.

There are two perfectly moth-wing-sized holes crocheted into the back.

“Gem, did you…”

“I had a bunch of time while everyone was away on Limited Life. And also way too much wool. So I thought I’d try to make you something! I was going to give it to you at a more, um… opportune time… but I guess this works too.”

“Gem, this is incredible. I love it. I love it so much, Gem, I can’t believe this. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. I…” She trails off as she realizes what she’s said.

Gem blushes beet red. “I’m glad. I really wanted it to be good.” She chuckles. “Only the best for my– for the precious pearl of Hermitcraft, right?”

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know how to thank you enough for this. I’m gonna go try this on now.” Pearl disappears behind a door as her tears begin to fall again – not from pain, but instead from love.

By the time Pearl returns in her perfectly-fitting moon sweater, Gem already has two bowls of beetroot soup and a pumpkin pie on the table. “Late-night snack?”

“Yes, please.” Pearl happily sits down at the table and takes a sip of soup. “Oh, that’s so good.” “I do my best,” Gem says with a grin.

They sit and eat together as the storm outside slowly lessens. After a few minutes, a message pops up on their communicators:

<xisumavoid> weather glitch should be fixed!

<xisumavoid> i won’t change the weather before the storm stops because i want to make sure it’s totally resolved

<xisumavoid> but it shouldn’t be a hurricane outside anymore

<Grian> THANK YOU X

<ZombieCleo> you’re a lifesaver thank you

<PearlescentMoon> oh that’s awesome! thank you so much

<falsesymmetry> now please get some sleep x

<falsesymmetry> it’s long past midnight

“It is?” Gem asks, looking around.

“Oh, wow,” Pearl says, realizing the same. “I guess I didn’t notice it with the storm going on. I should be going home now, shouldn’t I?”

Pearl stands to leave, but Gem grabs her hand. “Want to stay for the night? The rain isn’t gonna stop anytime soon.”

That’s how they end up curled up together on Gem’s bed, resting in each other’s arms. Every so often, Pearl jumps in alarm at the thunder, but Gem’s quiet embrace is enough to ground her every time. They fall asleep together that way, keeping each other warm and safe until long after the weather glitch has passed.

It almost (not quite, but almost) makes Pearl and Gem wish there would be storms more often.

[tunedtostatic]

Charity Commissions for Vermont Floods

Photo of flooding in Barre by James Buck for Seven Days

As I posted last month, my home state of Vermont (I am not there right now) experienced historic flooding, with many areas hit worse than when Hurricane Irene hit a decade ago. I'm offering short folktale-inspired story commissions in exchange for a donation of $5 or more to the fundraisers below. 💚

The charity commissions I'm offering

Give me a character or two (dragon, evil grandmother, talking plant, &c) and a situation or object (getting lost, a duel, a magic sword, &c) and I'll write a story of ~1,000+ words using both (and also some kind of twist because I read the Deltora Quest books at a formative age).

Stories got more interest in my poll, but I'll also do graphic design with free use images (e.g. unsplash and pixabay), if you want a fanfic cover or fanmix cover: example, second example.

How to donate & commission a story

To commission a story, donate at least $5 to Waterbury Good Neighbor Fund, NEKO flood relief, or message me for a list of GoFundMes (I'm trying to keep an eye out for GoFundMes that are legit and aren't yet close to their fundraising goal; I don't want to chase this post around editing and adding new ones, especially since I don't personally knowing anyone fundraising and how they want theirs shared, but ask me for links!) Then, send me a screenshot of your donation (please crop out any payment information).

I'm not in Vermont right now, which kind of puts a damper on the word of mouth experience. If you're in Vermont, let me know of any GoFundMes you know personally or nonprofits you've had good experiences with and I'll add them.

Like I said in my initial post, I don't want to discourage anyone from donating through the main gateways! They're just not what I'm focusing on for charity commissions donations.

Bad experiences being treated disrespectfully or dangerously by some other Vermont nonprofits (and neighbors and…) make me disproportionately grouchy about this, but I'll go with being a little grouchy being my niche in the Vermont ecosystem at times like this when it's hard not to think about how people treating others poorly in Vermont spreads out like ripples and makes disasters like this more damaging.

Other ways to help

Reblogs will, of course, help!

If you're in Vermont, let me know of any GoFundMes you know personally (or nonprofits you've had good experiences being helped by) and I'll add them.

If anyone else is doing fandom fundraiser things, let me know and I'll link those too.

Photo of flooding in Waterbury by Kevin McCallum for Seven Days

Don't hesitate to ask for the commission once you donate! I know sometimes people feel weird asking the person offering charity commissions to do the "work" of the commission for what's meant to be an act of generosity, but on a practical level each commission functions as advertising and makes it more likely other people will see the post and donate too.

(Of course if you really feel more comfortable simply donating, holyshtgoforit. 😃)

I've chosen something (writing short stories) that's fulfilling and doable, but if I do need to pause, I'll leave a note on this post. Commissions are open indefinitely; would love to get a few going this week as we reach a month since the mid-July flood and people are grappling with the damages.

[rostomanologist]

Coral reefs, tides, whirlpool, and hurricane for Maitiu? uwu (@sunsrefuge)

YIPPEEEE thanks for the ask!!! and sorry it took a while :D

long ass post alert. under the cut

CORAL REEFS - Does your OC depend on anyone? If so, who and in what way? Is this relationship one sided, or do both parties benefit from each other? If they don’t depend on anyone, why not?

matt is pretty much independent. however, he can't live without helping anyone - and his boyfriend relonyl (@el-is-away s precious dude), an ex-courtier, is a perfect target for that.

relonyl was rescued by maitiú, and it was quite... brutal. so matt feels responsible now, not only because of love, but also because of the want to help him heal. and it's two-sided - relonyl, a traumatized and scared soul, needs someone to be near him after all the horrors he experienced in the court from the very beginning of his life.

TIDES - How do they cope with change? Is it something they welcome, or is it something they avoid? Do you have any examples of a change they’ve had (long or short term) and their reaction to said change?

matt is fine with change. he thinks it's a natural way of life, to be constantly changing and transforming. he doesn't seek nor avoid changes in his life, though, as his life is already full of them. but he barely endures them in himself, in his personality. he wants to be - and is - a sort of paladin, all light, all kindness and compassion, but still can't stand that he is a person, too. the one who has flaws. and the one who can change his compassion into vindictiveness and wrath. he hates it and hides it

WHIRLPOOL - Was their ever a point in your OC’s life where they felt like it was spiraling out of control? What caused it? Were they able to recover from the event, or did it permanently change them?

yes, and it's tied (again) to nightmare court.

matt is a valiant. his hunt is to bring back saplings from there, while there's still hope. to do his job better, he infiltrated one of the camps. to understand how they turn young sylvari to them. and he overestimated himself. he met relonyl there, changed his plans, decided to rescue him, and all of that went wrong.

won't dive into the details - it's worth a fic or at least a long-read, - but the thing is that matt started to turn into the nightmare himself, accepting their cruelty in achieving goals. it felt barely controllable, just getting worse with each day there, and eventually, when rescuing relonyl from there, maitiú turned their methods against the court, burning the whole camp down. they fled after that, and it eventually began feeling easier to control. still, he feels this shred of nightmare in him, ready to begin spiraling down again. he recovered partly. and will never do it fully.

HURRICANE - What poses a danger to your character currently? How have they responded to such dangers so far?

i think for now these are just general dangers of tyria. you know. animals. bandits. courtiers sometimes. dragon minions. shit like that. everything an average wanderer encounter. these things are mostly avoided, though matt battles pretty well, especially with relonyl on his side. he just doesn't take too much risks.

also, a bonus. have two of them (in crunchy quality but still)

[ivankahasbeentreatedsounfairly]

The NY Times

By David Gelles and Austyn Gaffney

As Los Angeles burned for days on end, horrifying the nation, scientists made an announcement on Friday that could help explain the deadly conflagration: 2024 was the hottest year in recorded history.

With temperatures rising around the globe and the oceans unusually warm, scientists are warning that the world has entered a dangerous new era of chaotic floods, storms and fires made worse by human-caused climate change.

The firestorms ravaging the country’s second-largest city are just the latest spasm of extreme weather that is growing more furious as well as more unpredictable. Wildfires are highly unusual in Southern California in January, which is supposed to be the rainy season. The same is true for cyclones in Appalachia, where Hurricanes Helene and Milton shocked the country when they tore through mountain communities in October.

Wildfires are burning hotter and moving faster. Storms are getting bigger and carrying more moisture. And soaring temperatures worldwide are leading to heat waves and drought, which can be devastating on their own and leave communities vulnerable to dangers like mudslides when heavy rains return.

Around the globe, extreme weather and searing heat killed thousands of people last year and displaced millions, with pilgrims dying as temperatures soared in Saudi Arabia. In Europe, extreme heat contributed to at least 47,000 deaths in 2023. In the United States, heat-related deaths have doubled in recent decades.

“We’re in a new era now,” said former Vice President Al Gore, who has warned of the threats of global warming for decades. “These climate related extreme events are increasing, both in frequency and intensity, quite rapidly.”

The fires currently raging in greater Los Angeles are already among the most destructive in U.S. history. By Friday, the blazes had consumed more than 36,000 acres and destroyed thousands of buildings. As of Saturday, at least 11 people were dead, and losses could top $100 billion, according to AccuWeather.

Although it is not possible to say with certainty as any specific weather event unfolds whether it was caused by global warming, the Los Angeles fires are being driven by a number of conditions that are becoming increasingly common on a hotter planet.

Last winter, Southern California got huge amounts of rain that led to extensive vegetation growth. Now, months into what is typically the rainy season, Los Angeles is experiencing a drought. The last time it rained more than a tenth of an inch was on May 5. Since then, it has been the second-driest period in the city’s recorded history.

Temperatures in the region have also been higher than normal. As a result, many of the plants that grew last year are parched, turning trees, grasses and bushes into kindling that was ready to explode.

That combination of heat and dryness, which scientists say is linked to climate change, created the ideal conditions for an urban firestorm.

“Wintertime fires in Southern California require a lot of extreme climate and weather events to occur at once,” said Park Williams, a climate scientist at the University of California, Los Angeles. “And the warmer the temperatures, the more intense the fires.”

A third factor fueling the fires, the fierce Santa Ana winds, which blow West from Utah and Nevada, cannot be directly linked to climate change, scientists say. But the winds this week have been particularly ferocious, gusting at more than 100 miles per hour, as fierce as a Category 2 Hurricane.

Fires across the West have been getting worse in recent years. In 2017, thousands of homes in Santa Rosa, Calif., burned to the ground. The next year, the Camp fire leveled more than 13,000 homes in Paradise, Calif. In 2021, roughly a thousand homesburned near Boulder, Colo.

And from the boreal forests of Canada to the redwood groves of Oregon, large fires have been incinerating vast areas of wilderness. 

“In the last couple years we’ve seen an increase in extreme weather events and increasing amounts of billion-dollar disasters,” said Kaitlyn Trudeau, a senior research associate focused on wildfires and the West Coast at Climate Central, a nonprofit research group. “It’s very clear that something is off, and that something is that we’re pumping an insane amount of carbon into the atmosphere and causing the climate systems to go out of whack.”

As the Los Angeles fires consumed some of the most valuable real estate in the world, an unfolding tragedy became fodder for political attacks.

President-elect Donald J. Trump blamed Gov. Gavin Newsom, a Democrat, for the disaster. Mr. Trump inaccurately claimed that state and federal protections for a threatened fish had hampered firefighting efforts by leading to water shortages.

And on Thursday, Elon Musk, the world’s richest man and an ally of Mr. Trump, inserted himself into the debate over the role climate change plays in wildfires.

“Climate change risk is real, just much slower than alarmists claim,” Mr. Musk wrote to his 211 million followers on X, the social media site he owns. He said the loss of homes was primarily the result of “nonsensical overregulation” and “bad governance at the state and local level that resulted in a shortage of water.”

Those claims were rebutted by scientists, who noted that, as humans continue to warm the planet with emissions, extreme weather is becoming more common.

In Los Angeles, residents displaced by the fires watched in exasperation as the unfolding disaster was politicized.

“People are just wanting to blame somebody else,” said Sheila Morovati, a climate activist who lives in Pacific Palisades and saw her neighborhood burn. “What about all the dryness? What about the temperatures? There’s so many pieces that are all pointing back to climate change.”

News that 2024 was the hottest year on record was hardly a surprise. The previous hottest year was 2023. All 10 of the hottest years on record have come in the last decade.

“We sound like a broken record but only because the records keep breaking,” said Gavin Schmidt, director of the NASA Goddard Institute for Space Studies, which monitors global temperatures. “They will continue to break until we get emissions under control.”

But the world is not getting emissions under control. In fact, last year countries released record amounts of planet warming gasesinto the atmosphere, even as the consequences of climate change have become painfully clear. U.S. efforts to cut emissions largely stalled last year.

The inevitable result: more heat and more extreme weather.

In late September and early October, Hurricane Helene, which scientists said was made worse by climate change, roared across the Southeast, unleashing deadly floods and landslides in several states, including North Carolina.

Months earlier, researchers showed that the devastating floods that swamped Porto Alegre, Brazil, would not have been so severe were it not for human caused global warming.

In May, scientists found the fingerprints of climate change on a crippling heat wave that gripped India, and found that an early heat wave in West Africa last spring was made 10 times more likelyby climate change.

On Friday, parts of the South that are not used to winter weather, including Atlanta, saw sleet and snow, disrupting travel and canceling flights. But it’s unclear whether the recent blast of cold air that has led to plunging temperatures across the Southeast and Gulf Coast states was caused by a warming climate.

“We just don’t see robust increases in severe cold events,” said Zeke Hausfather, a climate scientist at Berkeley Earth, a research organization. “If anything, they’re decreasing.”

While Southern California is no stranger to fires, the events of the past week have exposed the region’s inherent vulnerabilities.

As the first fires started, fierce winds pushed the flames through canyons loaded with dried-out vegetation and into homes built in the so-called wildland-urban interface, areas where neighborhoods abut undeveloped wilderness. Both of the areas in the Los Angeles region that suffered the greatest losses, Pacific Palisades and Altadena, were in such fire-prone areas.

Art delaCruz, the chief executive of Team Rubicon, a nonprofit organization that mobilizes veterans and other volunteers to assist after disasters, was at home in Los Angeles when the fires broke out. His house is safe for now, and he is now preparing to deploy volunteers who will help clear roads and distribute aid.

Team Rubicon was founded after a group of former Marines went to Haiti to volunteer after the devastating earthquake in 2010. But Mr. delaCruz said that most of the disasters his organization responds to around the world now are linked to climate change.

“It’s simple physics,” he said. “Warmer air holds more water. The storms are increasing in frequency. The storms are increasing in severity. And the damage is just unbelievable.”

There is no rain in the forecast for Los Angeles for at least another couple weeks. But scientists are already concerned about what will happen when the rains do arrive.

In 2018, the wealthy enclave of Montecito, Calif., just north of Los Angeles, was devastated by mudslides after torrential downpours fell on hills that had recently burned.

“If we get intense rainfall on those burn scars, then we’re going to add insult to injury and have debris flows,” said Alexander Gershunov, a research meteorologist at the Scripps Institution of Oceanography in San Diego.

Heat waves. Drought. Fires. Superstorms. Floods. Mudslides. These are the growing threats of a rapidly warming world, and scientists say nowhere is entirely protected from the effects of climate change.

“We think sometimes that if we live in a city, we’re not vulnerable to natural forces,” Dr. Schmidt said. “But we are, and it comes as a huge shock to people. There’s no get out of climate change free card.”

[yetisidelblog]

Los Angeles is currently experiencing the worst wildfires it has ever seen, with at least five major fires ravaging the area, destroying entire neighborhoods, and creating apocalyptic conditions.

So far, five lives have been lost, around 179,000 people have been ordered to evacuate, hundreds of thousands of people have been left without power, and at least 1,300 homes and other buildings have been burned, with more than 60,000 additional structures at risk.

This is the devastating reality of our climate crisis and our leaders’ unwillingness to tackle it with the bold, urgent action it demands — and it will only get worse.

While we continue to push politicians on both sides of the aisle in Congress to do what is necessary and pass the Green New Deal — which will cost less than the inevitable destruction caused by worsening wildfires, flooding, and rising sea levels — we must come together to help those impacted.

Please make a contribution of whatever you can spare to the California Community Foundation Wildfire Relief Fund and Los Angeles Regional Food Bank to provide desperately needed resources to wildfire victims today →

Let’s help the everyday people hurt by this disaster as we continue to demand those in power stop prioritizing forever wars and billionaire profits and start addressing this crisis with the urgency it deserves.

@upontheshelfreviews

@greenwingspino

@one-time-i-dreamt

@tenaflyviper

@akron-squirrel

@ifihadaworldofmyown

@justice-for-jacob-marley

@voicetalentbrendan

@thebigdeepcheatsy

@what-is-my-aesthetic

@ravenlynclemens

@anon-lephant

@writerofweird

@bogleech

@mentally-quiet-spycrab

[deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist]

Damn, this chapter was just…<chefs kiss>

Her whole exchange with A-Train was wonderful! And the “Ben, really I love you. It’s kind of stupid how much I love you” monologue/humming was perfection! R-rated GI Joe doll indeed!

“Inside your chest, something pounds and beats against your lungs and ribs. Something powerful and bloody and desperate. The slight blur of the world vanishes—you hadn’t even noticed it before—and everything is clear and warm and angry.” and “I fucking do. The thing inside you rages, and you’re not sure if it’s yours or not. You’re not touching anybody, and it doesn’t feel foreign or out of place inside you. But you’ve never felt something like this. It’s focused and pious and entirely made of something monstrous that you can’t name. It’s not dangerous, nothing about it feels dangerous—it reminds you of Ben, and he’d never hurt you—but it’s still the most intensely starved and insatiable feeling you’ve ever experienced.” EEEEEEE!!!!! <stops to listen> Nope, not a tornado warning, that really is me making that noise. YES!!!!

“Whatever. You love me. / I do. /The thing responds to that. It roars and starts to claw up your spine, grabbing your heart with firm but gentle hands and trying to pull it around in your body.” EEEEEEE!!!!!

That scene with Ben & MM…damn as if Ben’s reunion with Her hadn’t already had me near-bawling. “I can’t explain why, shit’s fucking baffling why, but she’ll be happy with you. Just,” MM gave Ben one last look. It wasn’t cold, wasn’t hateful. Just tired. “Try to earn it.” … He hadn’t earned Her. Ben could never fucking earn her. He’d held her and lost her, fucking again.” DAMN, these allergies!

“That everything was worse because she wasn’t at Ben’s side, that everything hurt because he’d fucking failed. She didn’t know what she meant to him. If She knew what she meant to Ben she’d have come home. If he could break the Thing’s stupid fucking code and tell her that vital thing, she’d have understood and come home.” I’ve got to dust in here, it’s driving me nuts.

“She was perfect and she wanted him and Ben hadn’t even told Her how much he missed Her. How he wasn’t sleeping and eating was an act of labor without Her there to throw crumpled napkins at his face and hang around his body while he did the dishes. How she was gone and nothing was good. He hadn’t told Her. And she still wanted him. And Ben breaks.” Who’s cutting onions? So help me, I can’t take this…

“For reasons Ben couldn’t fucking understand, the bellows of pain escaping his body and the endless fucking pain finding its way out of his body didn’t feel useless. It felt good. It felt like a tribute, like he was leaving an offering for Her in this loneliness. This was agony and the worst fucking thing in the world and Ben had to fucking break to prove it. She couldn’t break, she wouldn’t allow herself to, so Ben would do it for Her. He’d shatter on the floor of their apartment and cling to any thought of Her as it made this pain grow. It was a lot fucking better than forgetting.” This isn’t a hurricane, it’s a calima - I only have so many boxes of tissues! “So Ben just cried. He knew she’d come home but he still just fucking sobbed on the couch. Alone. Missing Her, and wanting her, and waiting for her.”

‘We getting through this?’ Really? NO. No, we are not ok - the Onion Ninjas killed me - I am writing this from beyond the grave, and I REGRET NOTHING because I love this so damn hard! It’s not often a fic makes me cry, but I really love it when they do – This did, and I do. BRAVA!! I will be pining like both of them until the next chapter.

Chapter 18 - Something In The Static

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: I’d like to dedicate this chapter to my friend who I finally got to watch the Boys and we’re talking about Soldier Boy and I have to pretend I’m not doing this and be very normal about the conversation.

Also for everyone who's gonna say “why is Ezekiel alive”, Butcher never went all tentacle tumor on us, and therefore Ezekiel is still very much alive. “Well how did Butcher survive their encounter” idk maybe he kissed Ezekiel and then just ran away.

Chapter Title from Not Strong Enough by boygenius

Word Count: 25.7k......

Chapter Summary/Warnings: The Believe Expo is underway, and everyone is dealing with a lot of emotions. Usual warnings, times two. We're looking at angst and smut and (minimal) fluff. Just a hodgepodge of everything.

Read on A03!

Chapter 17 - Chapter 19

Coconut might be the worst smell in the world. Not real coconut, but this fake, chemical coconut that was everywhere in Homelander’s apartment. Everywhere on Homelander. Too sweet and impossible to not think about. It burns your nose, and you’re starting to wonder if it’s some kind of poison cologne. Something designed to make him even harder to stand against, because you always have to use a hand to block the smell from your nose. You’d never smelled it in the white room, but Homelander always went through an airlock before he visited you. This is just him, all the time, and you’re choking on it. 

He still hadn’t touched you. And they hadn’t locked you back down. You think that, between Noir’s sudden and heroic death very vaguely “defending our country” and the the CIA releasing a statement that you’re being held against your will by Vought—you’re surprised Mallory didn’t take the disavowing you entirely path, but here you are—Sage is too busy putting out fires to convince Homelander that you didn’t break that easy. That, after Noir II, you’d gotten back up. Revised your role, changing how you played it, and kept moving. You would not break, not like this, not where Homelander could see it. He didn’t fucking deserve to see you break, really break. He could think he’d gotten you to understand, but you would never allow him to see what you breaking really looked like.

You would break—really break, with screams and sobs and nails in your skin and not getting back up—when you got home. When you could cry into Ben’s chest, and he could keep your nails on his arm instead of your own. He’d pick you up. He’d pick you up in strong, safe arms and carry you to bed, holding you as long you asked him to. Everything would smell like pine and Ben, and you’d be able to break without the freezing cold making you glue yourself together. You’d just break. 

But not now. Not yet.

Not when there was still work to do.

A-Train had found you a few days after Noir II, after the CIA had responded to your speech. An official statement from the director, co-signed by president Robert Singer, stating that Soldier Boy was indeed a CIA operative, that Vought had no jurisdiction to declare him a public enemy, and that the Anomaly was currently being tortured by Vought to comply with their agenda. They didn’t say the whole truth, because according to them you and Ben were co-workers—nothing more—and Homelander had been obsessed with you since you were both young supes but you’d turned him down numerous times. You wish they had just committed to it. Just told the world what Homelander was, what he’d done to you, but the truth did somehow sound more absurd. And right now wasn’t about the truth, it was about doing what needed to be done. You had to trust that Mallory was smart. That she knew what she was doing. 

It would be really helpful if A-Train had a similar leniency. 

“What are they doing?” He’d skidded to a stop in front of you again, in another too-fancy bathroom at another boring event. 

You’d held up a single finger, taking a long, deep breath. You were curled up on the floor, under a hand-dryer that you kept pushing the button of to make the warm air blast onto your head. It was helpful, it made you feel a little more alive and was a lot more sustainable than constant vomiting. 

A-Train had just kept talking, pacing in front of you. “Sage is really not happy, there’s no fucking way I can risk talking to MM now. That was not smart, that shit you did on TV. You know why Sage isn’t here? The Deep went to a fucking Panera last night without telling anyone and Sage is pulling camera footage to make sure he’s telling the truth. And Noir is dead-“ 

“Can you please shut up?” You’d muttered, tapping against your calves. “I know what I did. I knew there would be consequences. I’m willing to live with them.” 

“Well, I’m not!” A-Train’s feet had stopped in front of you, and you’d reached up to hit the button again. Letting the hot air push on the top of your head, calming you as he continued. “This isn’t just about you, you’re not the only one who’s suffering-“ 

“I could say the same to you.” 

“Come on-“ 

“I’m serious,” you’d looked up at him with a scowl as the wind above you stopped once more. “This is good. Ben can help them now, Annie has more fuel against Vought, and Butcher and Mallory will know how to work this.” 

“Fine, but I’m not helping you at all if you keep this shit up,” A-Train had snapped your name. “I’ve got people, I can’t risk my nephews for this-“ 

“Okay.” 

He’d blinked at you. “Okay? That’s it?” 

“Yeah. Okay.” You’d shrugged. “I can’t make you help me. If you won’t, you won’t. I can handle this myself.” 

“You’re really not going to lecture me about being a hero, or doing the right thing?” 

You’d shaken your head, looking back down at the floor. “I don’t really have legs to stand on there. I got Noir II killed, I killed Firecracker, I’ve destroyed at least two buildings and gotten a lot of other, innocent people killed by proximity. I mean, fuck, I’m in love with Soldier Boy-“ 

You hadn’t meant to say that. It had fallen out of your mouth and you’d stuttered to a stop, but it was too late. When you looked back up at A-Train, his mouth was hanging open. 

“You-“ 

“Please don’t tell anyone that,” you’d whispered. “I didn’t mean to tell you that, I’m just exhausted-“ 

“I’m not going to.” A-Train had still been frowning at you. “I mean, I don’t really care about your personal shit. Even if it’s being in love with Soldier Boy.” A-Train had frowned. “Isn’t he technically Homelander’s father?” 

“Yeah,” you’d leaned your head back against the wall. “And I’m aware of how fucked up that is.” 

A-Train had shrugged. “All of this is fucked. I don’t think you fucking Soldier Boy is any less fucked than anything else we’ve all done.” 

“We’ve never actually fucked,” you’d mumbled, because you couldn’t stop now. In no world had you foreseen the I’m very in love with Ben and it’s all impossibly confusing and complicated conversation happening in a fancy bathroom with A-Train, but you had started it and now you were apparently incapable of stopping it. “I mean, we’ve done stuff. But not fucking.” 

“Okay.” A-Train had frowned. “Why the fuck are you telling me that?” 

“Because I’m lonely.” You’d looked up at him with a sad smile. “And you’re here.” 

He’d nodded, then moved away. You’d thought he’d left, just pissed off because he didn’t want to deal with this. But he’d dropped against the wall across from you with a sigh, pulling off his visor to meet your eyes. “How long?” 

You’d frowned at him. “How long?” 

“Have you and Soldier Boy been not fucking.” 

“February. But, uh,” you’d shaken your head. “I think I might have been in love with him before that.” 

“Okay,” A-Train had nodded, and kept going. “Does Homelander-“ 

“He found out after the interview. Sage told him.” 

“And your team-“ 

“I’m not sure. They know we’re close, and maybe some of them have figured out it’s more than that, but I’m really not sure.” You’d tilted your head at him. “Why are we talking about this?” 

“I don’t exactly have a lot of friends either.” A-Train muttered. “I killed the only woman I’ve ever loved because Homelander told me to, Sage is a bitch, and the Deep is an idiot. Ashley’s fine, sometimes, but we don’t exactly talk about things that aren’t life or death.” 

“Oh,” you’d nodded. “Okay.” 

It had been silent for a second, both of you watching each other wearily. 

“Does he know?” 

You’d blinked. “Who?” 

“Soldier Boy. Does he know you love him?” 

“No,” your voice had cracked a little, a lump forming in your throat. “It’s complicated.” 

“Does he love you?” 

“No.” 

A-Train had blinked at your answer. “You said that really fast.” 

“He doesn’t,” you’d let out a long breath before continuing. “I’m okay with it. He just doesn’t and it’s fine.” 

He’d looked like he’d wanted to keep pushing. You’re grateful he didn’t, because if you kept talking about Ben you might have started crying. 

“I, uh,” A-Train had shaken his head, foot tapping on the floor. “When I was a kid I wanted to be a hero. Just, while we’re talking about fucked shit, I wanted to be a hero. A real hero. My brother said I could help people, and I really did believe him. And then I just, I got lost. It’s a shit ton harder to be a hero when it’s not just a word. When you actually have to back it up and nobody around you seems to care. Now it’s probably too fuckin late.” 

“I don’t think it’s ever too late,” you’d watched him carefully, speaking slowly. “You can always change. Humans aren’t static. We’re always changing. It’s a strange kind of exceptionalism to think you’re immune to that. To think you’re special enough to not be capable of being better.” 

A-Train had narrowed his eyes at you. “What are you talking about.”

“I dedicated my whole life before this to studying people,” you’d held his gaze, not wavering on your words. “And you realize pretty fast that concepts of good and bad are different across the world. It’s not something that’s fixed, because people aren’t fixed. We’re not born good or bad. We are who we are, who we’ll be, but we also make choices. I mean,” you’d shrugged. “You can keep doing good things, or bad things, or nothing at all. But you’re never incapable of doing something different. If you think you can’t, it’s because you think you’re too good to be better. But everyone is always capable of being better.” 

“Like Soldier Boy?” 

“Like Ben,” you’d whispered. “He’s better. And he’s good. Really good.” 

“And you really love him?” 

You’d swallowed. “Yeah. A lot.” 

A-Train had nodded. “You think he’ll be waiting for you?” 

“Yes.” You’d answered without hesitation. Ben may not love you, but he’d never leave you. If you knew one thing in all of this, it was that Ben would never leave you. “He will.” 

“Then what?” 

You’d frowned at him. “What are you talking about?” 

“When this is over. If you win,” A-Train had shrugged. “Then what?” 

“I,” you’d shaken your head. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead.” 

“You have to have a reason you’re still going,” A-Train had leaned forward slightly. “It can’t just be because you’re a fucking good person.” 

“I’m not-“ 

“Yeah, you are.” A-Train had rolled his eyes. “You’re better than me, than all of us. Congratulations, you did it. You won the stupid contest.”

“I didn’t-”

He’d kept going, ignoring your protest. “But you have to have something you want. Everyone has something they want. That’s how this shit gets out of control.” He’d sighed. “You get promised the thing you want and never fully get it. Then it’s never enough.” 

“I don’t have anything I want,” you’d mumbled. “Just for this to be over.” 

“After that,” A-Train had snapped. “You’ve got to think of after. Otherwise you’ll just burn out.” 

“Butcher-“ 

“Is a vengeance fueled asshole. That dude might not have an after. I want my family back. So does MM. Hughie and Annie probably want a peaceful, boring fucking life. Ashley wants a year at a spa. What do you want.” 

You’d swallowed. “I don’t know.” 

“Think about it. What did you want before?”

“To do something important,” you’d said softly, rubbing circles against your arms. “Have a job where I helped people, where I was respected in my field. Then go home to someone who loved me, who I’d built a life with. A life that was mine.”

“Then do that. When this is all finally fucking done, build a life.” 

“I can’t,” you’d shaken your head, eyes blurred from tears. “I wanted to get married. I wanted a job. I wanted kids.” You choke slightly. “I don’t, I can’t be sure any of that is even possible anymore. Not after this.” 

“You can do whatever you want.” A-Train’s voice had been sharp. “Don’t let all these assholes control you, change how you live your life. You can do all that, or none of it, but you do it.” He’d sighed. “Don’t let them make you lose people. Lose happiness. They don’t deserve to have that kind of control over you.” 

“Thank you,” you’d smiled softly, and he’d shrugged. 

“Sure.” 

You’d given a dry laugh. “They really just fuck everything up, don’t they.” 

“Fucking everything,” A-Train had nodded with a small smile that had fallen fast. “I still can’t help you. Not like you asked. My family-“ 

“It’s fine,” you’d met his eyes with a sigh. “I’ll find something else.” 

“You’re serious?” 

“Yeah,” you’d shrugged. “I can move things around, find another way. You can still help.” You’d given him a tight smile. “You can be better. But you should leave the bathroom. They might start looking for us soon.” 

He’d nodded and stood, giving you one last look before leaving. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.” 

The air whooshed, and you were alone on the floor of the bathroom again. 

We could go to Rome, Ben’s voice had hummed around you. When all this shit is over, we can always go to fucking Rome. 

I’d love to go to Rome. You’d smiled into the empty air around you. I’d love anywhere, as long as you were there. 

Because you love me. 

Because I love you. You’d leaned back again, hitting the button above you one last time. Ben, really I love you. It’s kind of stupid how much I love you. 

Are you ever actually going to fucking tell me that? 

Maybe. You’d sighed. Maybe one day in a million years I’ll grow some balls and tell you. 

What would you say? 

It doesn’t matter. 

Shut the fuck up. When you tell me you love me, which you will because you’re not a pussy, what are you going to say. 

Benjamin. 

Don’t Benjamin me, I’m fucking helping. 

You’re not real.

So you can fucking tell me. If I’m not real it won’t goddamn matter. 

The air turned off, and the bathroom had still been empty. 

You’d started to hum. A simple love song, just so you could see his face. Look at him. 

He was so fucking handsome. You'd almost started crying because he was right there, tall and broad and standing in front of you, grinning at you but not real. You couldn’t feel him, not really, because your sensory manipulation didn’t extend to emotion. So you could grab Fake Ben’s hand and feel his warm skin but not him. You couldn’t feel Ben, strong and resolved and everything. But you could smell pine, and feel his hand trace along your jaw. You could grab it and hold it there—let Fake Ben trace circles on your cheek with his thumb—and try to pretend it was real. Pretend it was enough. 

I love you. Your words had to stay in your head, because if you stopped humming to talk aloud Fake Ben would disappear and you needed to keep looking at him. I love you like the ocean loves the moon and the sun loves the stars. I love you like the birds want to sing and the caterpillar longs to be a butterfly. I love you like the grass loves the rain and the lighting loves the thunder. Like the flower loves the bee and the snail loves its shell. I love you like you’re music I get to sing and light I get to eat. I love you like the spiderweb loves the spider and the grave loves the flowers. I love you like a mirror loves to shatter and the alter loves the blood. I love you like the devil loves fire and like god loves the devil. I love you, Ben. I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ll love you until all the world is scattered across the sky and we’re both trapped in the spaces that remain between. I’ll love you until my voice is gone and my heart is only still beating because you’re holding it. I’ll love you until everything is burning away and it’s just you and me. If they find a way to kill us I’ll love you as a ghost and my skeleton will keep one hand on yours. I love you because all my bones and muscles fit in with your bones and muscles, and because my soul is mine but it’s stronger when it’s yours as well. I love you, Ben. I love you. 

You’d cried. No sobs wracking your body, but small tears you couldn’t hold in. Tears you’d let Fake Ben wipe away before you’d had to let him go, and then wiped again yourself because they were real, and he hadn’t been. And you’d returned to Homelander, smiled through the party in a green velvet dress that didn’t fit and said words you didn’t mean. Let Homelander herd you wherever he wanted and kept your head together. Taken in even breaths of horrible coconut and smiled with no teeth at people with eyes like monsters. Looking at you like you were a prey that they couldn’t have because the apex predator had decided you were his. 

You didn’t throw up that night. You’d stared into the dark, cold air and talked to the phantom of Ben trapped in your head. 

And you’d sat in the fire. Not alight under your skin, but pulsing in a small, warm ember. Awake. Growing. 

By the time you’re sat in the Seven’s meeting room, with all four remaining members and Ashley, it was stronger. Beginning to smoke along your veins. 

“We’ll all be attending the Believe Expo tomorrow,” Sage’s arms are crossed as she glares around the table. “It’s important to appear as a unified front, and this is our primary base. Many non-christian supporters will be in attendance this year, as the association between Homelander and Christianity is becoming interchangeable in the public eye. Which also means we’re leaning away from actual biblical rhetoric, and into our own narrative. We can’t completely disavow the religious aspect, so we’ll have to walk a careful line between not alienating the new people and indoctrinating the old ones. Everyone will get their scripts tonight.” 

The Deep raises his hand, and Sage rolls her eyes but nods for him to speak. 

“Uh, aren’t they going to notice if a,” he frowns at Sage, looking her up and down. “Muslim is leading the Christ Show?” 

“No, because I’m an atheist, dumbass.” Sage snaps. “And I can recite the bible from front to back. All you have to do is show up, do what I tell you, and not say you’re in love with an octopus again. Understood?” 

The Deep looks at Homelander for an order to say yes or no, but Homelander’s not paying attention. He’s staring up at you, standing where he’d told you to. Silently at his side, like a statue he’d collected. When The Deep coughs, Homelander scoffs and waves a hand. 

“Just do whatever the woman fucking tells you to.” 

“Yes, sir.” The Deep nods, and then gives Sage a nervous look. 

Homelander is still staring at you. 

“Sage,” he says slowly. Not looking away. “I want to see her script.” 

“I haven’t written her one,” Sage glares at you. “Anomaly will be on stage for your speech at the end of the program, and you’ll kiss her. That’s her role.” 

Your nails dig into your wrist, both held behind your back. Breathe. You just have to breathe and get through this and not break. One kiss will not break you. One touch will not open the floodgates. You can’t scream or run because you’ll lose. You can breathe now and fall apart later. 

Homelander says your name, and it makes your skin itch. “Is going to give a speech. The people need to care about her, especially with the CIA and Starlight spewing all those fucking lies about her. About us. 

Sage shakes her head. “Homelander-“ 

He turns, shooting her a sharp glare. “I’m not fucking asking. Write her a speech.” 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Sage says cooly. “Not after-“ 

“I dealt with that,” Homelander’s voice raises slightly, and Sage falls silent. She doesn’t flinch, but she doesn’t keep pushing either. “I am telling you that you are going to write her a speech. You can either do it yourself, or I’ll have those fucking idiot writers do it for you.” 

Sage’s eyes narrow, but she nods. “Fine.” 

Homelander nods, looking back to you. “Sage?” 

She sighs. “What.” 

“Make it about love.” He smiles at you, and nothing has ever been harder than smiling back. 

The first thing you learn about the Believe Expo—something that until two weeks ago you’d been pretty certain wasn’t a thing anymore—is that it’s loud. Everything is so loud. Homelander flies you there through the cold mist and wind of the morning before telling you to practice your speech and shooting back up into the sky. They’re only setting up—workers dressed in black adjusting lights and testing speakers that ring screeching feedback through the air—and it’s already too much. People are moving everywhere, marking spots on the stage floor and arranging seats and trying to get cloth covers to stay on the tables. You’re lost in how loud it is, and almost get run over by a man carrying a large box that spills out cables as it collides with you. 

“Fuck!” You flinch at his shout, dropping down to help gather the wires scattered across the damp grass as he continues. “Goddamnit girl, we’re already behind schedule, I don’t have the fucking time-“ 

You look up at him to apologize, and he freezes. “I’m-“ 

“It’s fine,” he mumbles, almost pushing you away from the mess. “I’m sorry I yelled, ma’am. I promise there won’t be any delays for the event.” 

You blink at him, rubbing his neck and refusing to meet your eyes, but before you can ask any questions someone taps on your shoulder and says your name. 

“Thank fuck I found you, your trailer is ready.” 

“My trailer?“ You turn to see Ashely, holding a clipboard and tapping her foot. Looking around at the stage work with a tense expression. “Ashley, I don’t-“ 

“I’ll show you where it is. And don’t clean that up, it’s not your job.” 

“But-“ 

“You!” She points her pencil at a woman standing off the side, holding a coffee. “Clean this up, now.” 

“Ma’am, I’m uh, I’m on break-“ 

“I don’t fucking care, clean it! And you-“ Ashley’s glare turns back to you, still crouched on the ground. “Let’s go.” 

She grabs your arms and starts to pull you up, and something wraps around your throat and hands, trying to squeeze all the oxygen out of your body. Everything is sharp, too sharp, moving too fast and yet not fast enough. 

You yank your arm away the moment you’re on your feet, half because you don’t think Ashley remembers you can feel her and half because that was completely unbearable. You follow her off the stage, waiting until you’re out of the crews’ earshot to quicken your pace, walking at her side and speaking in a low voice. 

“You shouldn’t touch me, Ashley.” 

“What?” She shoots you a quick glare. “Don’t be dramatic, I was just helping you stand up-“ 

“You touched me. Your hand touched my arm. I felt you.” 

“So? It’s not like I-“

“Ashley.” You stop walking and wait for her to turn around. “I felt you.” 

“What the fuck are-“ Her angry expression falls, her face goes pale “Oh, I, I forgot, fuck-“ 

“It’s fine,” you say quickly. “I mean, it’s not a big deal. You just, uh, you shouldn’t touch me.” 

“I didn’t mean to, I’m- shit! I-“ 

“I’m not mad,” you frown at her. “I’m just reminding you. Don’t touch me unless you’re okay with me feeling it.” 

She nods tightly, hands pulling at her hair, and swallows before speaking. “Don’t tell Homelander I touched you. He doesn’t want us to touch you.” 

You feel the cold bloom inside you again, but manage to push it down. Give Ashley a tight nod. “I won’t.” 

“Can we go to the trailer now?” She looks down at the clipboard. “Fuck, we were supposed to be at the trailer five minutes ago-“ 

“Where is it?” 

“Just over there, but-“ 

“I can find it.” You start to walk away, in the general direction Ashley had pointed, but she calls your name and you stop. “What-“ 

“We’re not supposed to leave you on your own.” She’s tugging at her hair still, looking between you and the clipboard. “I technically should’ve been there when Homelander dropped you off-“ 

“I’m not going to run away, Ashely.” You sigh. “Please, just go do whatever you need to.” 

She looks like she might protest for a second, but looks back at the clipboard and gives a tight nod. “Okay. Go.“ 

“Great.” You start to turn again, but Ashley calls your name again. 

“What-“ 

“Um, thanks.” She mutters, gives you a tense smile. “And please, don’t try to fucking escape-“

“I won’t. I can’t.” You turn, and finally manage to get away before Ashley can see the anguish on your face. 

You could escape, Sunshine. Ben’s voice carries on the wind. Or I could come fucking get you. 

We’ve had this conversation. You can’t come get me, they’ll put you back under. 

I don’t give a shit. You should be home. With me. 

I know, but I can’t. Not yet. 

You fucking should, though. This is some insane, cum guzzling bullshit. And you are not fucking kissing Homelander. 

I’m not exactly thrilled about it either, Benjamin. 

Not for me, brat. Because he’s a fucking pussy who shouldn’t be allowed within a million miles of you. 

You have to stop your internal fight with Ben’s voice, because you reach the trailer and are immediately surrounded by people doing your hair and makeup, shoving Sage’s script into your hands for you to memorize. There will be a teleprompter, because Sage isn’t an idiot who thinks the Deep will remember anything for more than fifteen minutes—let alone a whole script from the time he’s in his trailer to four hours later when he’s on stage—but you still want to read it. To know what’s coming. 

It’s what you expected in its entirety. A lot of propaganda. A lot of lies. A lot of anecdotes that never happened and some musings about love that sound like a sociopath wrote them. I love Homelander because he completes me. I see us in every great romance in history. He is the thing that gets me up in the morning. 

You can hear the crowd outside now. People start to filter into the venue, more and more in larger and larger waves until the trailer feels as if it’s shaking. 

But you manage to keep it together. To keep reading as your finger taps on the chair and a blonde woman you’ve never seen before—and will likely never see again—pins your hair tight against your head and applies chemicals that would probably burn your scalp if you didn’t heal in that same second. 

I want to start a family with him. Lead the best life we can together. 

You put the script down, and once your hair and makeup team is gone you scramble to the trash can and empty the bile of your stomach until you can breathe. 

You just have to get through this. You just have to keep moving. 

They’d put you back in the supe costume. It’s better fitted than last time, but still just hideous. Uncomfortable and impractical and ugly. It feels wrong on your body, not just because it’s showing too much skin and the lace is scratching at your skin but because it’s not you. Supe costumes in general are dumb, because it’s not an outfit on a person, it’s a label on a product. Ben’s lucky he has a stupid handsome face that makes him attractive in everything or you’d have made fun of him ruthlessly about his own. 

You still fucking did that. You said I looked like a Christmas tree that’s been sent to war on the draft. 

And I’ve have said more if I didn’t want to climb that tree and let it fuck me. 

You called me an R rated G.I. Joe Doll. 

You are an R rate G.I. Joe Doll, Pretty Boy. I was being accurate and poetic. 

Brat. 

Cunt. 

You take a long breath, and grab the script again. Just get through this. You’ll break later, but right now you have to get through this. 

I’m excited to lead a great life with Homelander, for our love story to be remembered as one from a fairytale. Because he is my prince, my white knight who saved me from the dark. Homelander you’re my soulmate- 

Soulmate my fucking blue balls. Ben’s voice mutters in your head, and you can almost see his scowl. The pussy doesn’t even like you. 

Soulmates aren’t real, Ben. 

Still, you’re not his damn soulmate. 

Well, I’m not yours. Or anyones. Because soulmates aren’t real. 

But you love me. 

I do. That doesn’t mean we’re soulmates. You don’t even love me, Benjamin. Something hurts deep, deep inside you and against your skull. I think soulmates, if they were real, which they aren’t, are both supposed to love each other. 

Inside your chest, something pounds and beats against your lungs and ribs. Something powerful and bloody and desperate. The slight blur of the world vanishes—you hadn’t even noticed it before—and everything is clear and warm and angry. 

Why are you so fucking sure I don’t love you? 

What? 

You keep telling me I don’t love you. What makes you so damn positive? 

You don’t. 

I do. 

You blink into the empty trailer. No, you don’t. 

I fucking do. The thing inside you rages, and you’re not sure if it’s yours or not. You’re not touching anybody, and it doesn’t feel foreign or out of place inside you. But you’ve never felt something like this. It’s focused and pious and entirely made of something monstrous that you can’t name. It’s not dangerous, nothing about it feels dangerous—it reminds you of Ben, and he’d never hurt you—but it’s still the most intensely starved and insatiable feeling you’ve ever experienced. 

No, even in your head your voice is slow and confused. You don’t. 

You’re not the fucking boss of me.

I am literally the fucking boss of you. I am the government-appointed boss of you. 

I think they stripped that title from you when they realized we didn’t exactly have an appropriate boss-employee relationship, Sunshine. 

Fuck you. 

You did, that was the problem. 

You watch too much porn, Pretty Boy. I’m not a boss fucking her secretary and causing a scandal. 

I wasn’t your fucking secretary. 

Good thing, too. You’d have been terrible at it. I’d have asked you to check my calendar and you’d have destroyed the computer. 

You wouldn’t have been too mad about it. I’d have fucked your brains out on the desk and you’d have forgiven me. 

I would not have forgiven you. Computers are expensive. 

Then I’d buy you a damn new one, then fucked your brains out. And then you’d have forgiven me. Because I’d have told you I love you, and you’d have cum all over my cock, and you’d forgive me. 

You think your heart stops for a second, restarting with the jolt of that strange feeling in your chest. In your head your voice is breathless. Ben, please stop saying that. 

No. 

You don’t love me- 

I fucking do. 

No, you don’t. This feels like a strange hill for you to die on, convincing the phantom voice in your head of the man you love that he doesn’t love you back. But you press on. Stop saying that you do. It’s mean. 

Why the hell is it mean. Saying that I love you is the opposite of damn mean- 

Because I really, really, love you! And it’s mean to lie to me and try and convince me that Real Ben might love me! 

The thing roars inside you. What- 

The door to the trailer opens, and Ashley walks in without warning, eyes glued to her phone. The thing in you flares, and then it’s gone. 

“You’re on,” she looks up, giving you a once over before her eyes land on the abandoned script at your feet. “Did you read it?” 

You kind of read it. You didn’t finish it, but you’ve got the gist, so you nod. 

“Good,” Ashley looks back to her phone. “Are you ready?” 

You nod again, pulling yourself up from the floor, and are about to walk out the door when Ashley holds out an arm to block your path. You almost run into it, and you both flinch back, Ashley nearly dropping her phone. 

“You need to wear your disguise,” she says quickly, pulling her arms back. “People will swarm you.” 

The prep-team had left you a large hoodie with Homelander’s smiling face printed across it, a Vought baseball cap, and black sunglasses. You glance in the mirror after you change, and you look like an idiot. You feel like an idiot. If this all wasn’t so dangerous and precarious, it would be plain stupid. 

But, because the universe is strange and uncaring, this is incredibly important. You have to wear Homelander’s face on your body, because you can’t protest or it will blow everything. You have to wear a stupid baseball cap—which is going to ruin your stupid hair—because people can’t see your face. It’s the same reason you put on the sunglasses that pinch your nose, and make yourself follow Ashley out into the densely packed crowd. You don’t have another choice. 

There are too many people. The first thing you realize is that there are far too many people, and you’re going through them. They’re bumping your arms and legs, brushing against your skin in accidental passing, and it’s going to make you explode. Everything is too bright and loud and everything is like a live wire. Everyone is so excited, and all you’re getting is fleeting passes of their overzealous, stabbing feelings before being plunged right back into your own cold fear. Spreading faster, not fully overtaking the fire but making it grow dim. Pushing it further away. 

By the time you’re dropped off in a small tent—A-Train and the Deep playing cards at a fold-out table, Sage and Homelander nowhere to be found—your blood is rushing through your body and ramming against your throat and ears. Trying to escape your body. You almost immediately collapse into a chair, trying to take long breaths and think about happy things. 

Music. The music playing over the loudspeakers is deafening. Off-rhythm gospel music that’s like nails digging into your brain. 

City lights. There isn’t any life or joy in the light around you. The sun is behind the clouds, and the flood lights are hidden in a mist that makes the whole world just gray. 

Ben. Ben isn’t here. With you. And all you can do is miss him. 

Something claws at your heart, but you can’t spare the time or energy to feel it. It’s loud and tight, almost impossible to ignore, but you manage to just close your eyes and try to find something happy. Try to make something happy. A-Train and the Deep are fighting in the background. It’s so loud, and you’re growing cold again. You can’t see anything but the gray, can’t feel anything but a metal chair below you and the fog around you, and can’t hear anything that’s not angry or frantic. 

Fresh air. The air is fresh and smells like rain. You haven’t smelled fresh air in months, and it’s all just clean and easy. Sharp and bright in your lungs, made of the wetlands around you. Mud and pine and grass, stronger than the cold sweat of the crowd. Fresh air. 

You take one last, long, deep breath. You’re not at peace, but this isn’t about peace. It’s about the world being in focus, and being able to just keep going. 

“Hey,” The Deep says your name, and you just stare at him. “We haven’t really talked yet. I’m Deep.” 

You nod. “I know.” 

“Right, of course you do. I mean, you can call me Kevin-“ He extends his hand for you to shake, and A-Train whacks it back. “Bro-“ 

“We’re not supposed to touch her, dumbass.” A-Train’s not looking at you. He hasn’t looked at you since you sat down. “And she’s not going to call you Kevin. Fucking nobody calls you Kevin.” 

“My friends all call me Kevin,” the Deep looks back to you with a wide, white-toothed smile. “I mean, me and Homelander are real tight-“ 

“No, you’re not.” 

“He likes me more-“ 

“Homelander doesn’t give a shit about you,” A-Train rolls his eyes. “It’s your turn. Play or give up.” 

The Deep gives you one last look like he’s going to say something, but turns back around to their game. 

It’s another ten or so minutes before Ashley returns—this time with both the clipboard and her phone—and you have to move. Interviews. Photo ops. Saying all the right words in the right tone with the right body language for the microphones and cameras. 

It’s so loud. The walk—even through a barricaded area—is full of screaming people leaning over metal blockades and the bass of the music, running into your bones. Ashley is recapping Sage’s talking points—The Deep isn’t allowed to talk about marine animals, A-Train needs to talk about gospel and unity, and you shouldn’t speak at all—As the Deep shakes his body out, practicing his smile and introduction and A-Train still doesn’t look at you. 

The powerful thing returns, as you’re back in the open. It’s still violent and alert, strange but not out of place, and it feels like Ben. It’s just Ben, indescribably Ben. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it was him, because you know him. You know all of him, all his anger and care and vengeful warmth. You know how he is, how his heart pounds and his will moves everything around him, how everything in him is strong like this is. 

It fades when you're pulled into another tent. Not fully dying out, but growing dull. Far away. 

You’re sat next to A-Train—who just stares ahead into the air and lets them start to mic him—with a reminder not to talk. If you’re asked questions, Sage will answer them for you. You just have to sit there, be pretty, and smile. No matter what happens, what’s being said around you, keep smiling. 

Sage doesn’t show up. There’s a seat saved for her, with her name taped to it and water bottle under it, but she never arrives and Ashley makes everyone keep going. A well dressed woman sits across from you, the cameras turn on, the show begins.

Smile. Don’t talk and smile. Ashley reminds every journalist to greet you and look at you casually but never actually speak to you. They just give you a few smiles and glances, and only two or three actually meet your eyes. Most end up going through the motions and trying to pretend you’re not there. 

You don’t blame them. You’re doing the same. For what feels like eternity you’re sat in a chair—just another prop to the set—and as your face starts to hurt from smiling you stop paying attention. You put energy into trying to find the source of the odd feeling still making a home in your chest, but it’s stubborn. You try and pull it up to the surface and it doesn’t budge, you try and poke it and it just hums. 

It’s exactly like Ben. 

After all I fucking do for you. 

His voice is back. It always comes back. It doesn’t make the thing in you rear and push like it had before, but it’s still everywhere. Humming lowly in the mic feedback and where your foot is tapping the floor. 

Go away. I’m busy. 

His laugh haunts the spaces of silence between the voices around you. I’m not fucking real, Sunshine. I can’t go away. I’m a part of you. 

You’re an annoying part of me. Piss off, Pretty Boy. I’m trying to figure something out. 

Figure what out? 

Shut up. 

Fuck me backwards for trying to help you. 

This isn’t something you can help with, Ben. 

Try me. 

Fine, you try not to sigh aloud. I can feel something. Something I’m not sure I should be feeling. 

What, like horny? Are you horny? Do you miss me and you’re horny? 

No, you fucking dumb dumb. Like an emotion that I can’t understand. 

Well I can’t fucking help with that shit. 

I know. That’s why I told you to go away. 

Whatever. You love me. 

I do. 

The thing responds to that. It roars and starts to claw up your spine, grabbing your heart with firm but gentle hands and trying to pull it around in your body. 

What the fucking shit was that? 

I don’t know. Shut up, I need to test something. Ben, I love you. 

It’s going to kill you. This strange thing inside you is going to rip you to shreds, but before you can test anything further, the interviews are at an end and Ashley is ushering everyone away, dragging you around the venue to take photos. You’re handed countless crosses and bibles to hold up for the camera to see, as if people might not have been previously aware of them. The Deep and A-Train shake hands and pose with fans, you’re put in front of lambs and goats and a very unsettling marble statue of Homelander that’s still somehow warmer than the real one. 

The thing is still there. It keeps growing and waning and spreading and pulling back. As you move through the convention it grows wrathful and deafening, and you can’t figure out what it is. It’s not you. You’re certain it’s not you. You’d been pretty sure before, but now you’re certain. It doesn’t feel wrong, it doesn’t feel out of place, but it’s not you. You’re not consuming like this, you’re not… Parasitic is the wrong word, you decide, because it’s inherently negative. Nothing about this thing is negative. It’s big and demanding and so loud, but it’s almost comfortable. Full of want and content and focused attention. Made of something rough that’s been dedicated to whatever feeds it.  

You just can’t figure out what it wants. It’s hungry, it’s full of such a familiar, Ben-like hunger, but nothing seems to satisfy it. You repeat the words, Ben. Ben, I love you, several times, and it always takes them, but it never grows fully quiet. If anything it’s like offering it salt-water. It pours it down deep, and then grows more demanding. 

If you had more time you’d find somewhere quiet to figure out what the hell is going on. But the sun is starting to fall down, and Ashley is herding you to the backstage area. Ranting about speeches and last minute adjustments and don’t fuck up and- 

It’s just a flash. You only see it for a second, moving beyond the barricade through the crowd, but you still see it. 

Black hair. Long, wavy black hair attached to a short woman. 

Lots of people have black hair. You’ve seen at least twenty women with black hair in the past three hours alone. But you still stop in your path and crane your neck up. Trying to see over the crowd, deeper into the fray. 

You see the hair again. And, this time, the side-profile of the woman it’s attached to. Hooded eyes with eyeliner and a focused determination on her face. 

“Holy shit.” 

Your whisper is only heard by the Deep, who turns to you with a frown. “I thought Sage told us not to swear-“ 

“Ashley!” Your voice is almost a shriek, loud and frantic. “I need to go to the bathroom now!” 

“Hold it,” Ashley says your name without looking up from her phone, continuing to move towards the stage. “We’re on a really fucking tight schedule.” 

“Ashley!” You move to grab her, stop her, make her listen and she flinches back with wide eyes. 

“I-“ 

“I got my period,” you say bluntly. “And, uh, I’m wearing a skirt-“ 

She sigh. “Fine, but be fast-“ 

“I will! Super fast!” You run ahead, into the porta potties dropped near all the stage equipment for the crew. They smell awful, and you probably should’ve chosen a spot that’s meant to hold more than one person, but you’re here now. Now is not the time to second guess anything. 

You wait, just long enough that you start to wonder if A-Train hadn’t heard you or didn’t understand, and wasn’t coming. 

Then the air whooshes, and he’s crammed next to you as the door slams. “What the fuck was that about-“ 

“They’re here,” you don’t wait for him to fully gain his footing in the small space before you speak, and ignore his rush of stress and annoyance when your bodies brush. There’s not enough time. “They’re all here.” 

“Wh-“ 

“Butcher,” you hiss. “MM and Frenchie and Kimiko. Probably Hughie, probably not Annie.” And Ben. Ben is here. 

“Are you sure-“ 

“Yes.” 

“Well, why the fuck are they here-“ 

“I don’t know!” 

“Would you stop fucking interrupting-” 

“No!” You’re running your hand over your face, trying to make your brain move faster. To do something productive, and stop just chanting Ben. Ben, I love you. Ben, you’re here and I can see you and touch you and I love you, Ben, I love you- “I need to think.” 

“Think?” A-Train glares at you. “We need to fucking run, those idiot are always blowing everything-“ 

“Shut up,” you snap. “This is a chance. They’re here for a reason. They’re probably planning something-“ 

“Something stupid-“ 

“Shut up!” You’re almost shouting. There’s no time for this, you need to figure out what they’re doing here and adjust, you need to find out how to keep Homelander and Sage—wherever the hell they are—away from them, you need to see Ben. You need to find Ben, now. A-Train is still glaring at you, and your fire isn’t strong enough yet—not here, where the cold is crawling through you once more—so you need a plan. 

You look A-Train up and down, he’s trying to pace in a space where you’re both pressed against the wall to not touch each other, and you’ve got it. 

“You’re leaving.” 

A-Train freezes, frowning at you. “What?” 

“You’re going to go with them. When they leave, you’re going to go with them,” you nod to yourself as you speak. “You’re done with the Seven, you’re going with them.” 

“Are you crazy?! Or stupid?!” A-Train gapes at you. “I have a tracker, they might not even take me, and my family will still be in danger-“ 

“I’ll burn out your tracker, they will take you, and…” You trail, trying to find your way around A-Train’s family. He’s right, Vought knows who they are. They won’t just let him go quietly and bloodlessly, not when he’d be turning to their enemy. But this has to work- 

“If you can’t tell me how my family will be fine, there’s not a chance in hell-“ 

“You’ll die.” 

“What?!” 

“You’re going to die,” you say the words firmly. No room for error, no room for wavering. “They’re going to ‘kill you’,” you make exaggerated air quotes. “And you’re going to ‘die’.” 

A-Train frowns at your hands. “What are those, what are you talking about-“ 

“You’re not really going to die,” you snap. No time. “We’re going to fake your death. They’ll make it look like they killed you and everybody wins.” 

“How does everybody win there?” A-Train’s rolling on the balls of his feet, still glowering at you. “They’ll just twist it, Starlighters are murderers-“ 

“Exactly,” you have an almost maniacal grin on your face. “But the Seven will just have lost its second member in as many weeks. Not a great look for the whole supe supremacy narrative if their best and brightest are dropping like flies. It’s bad for everybody, and that’s why everyone wins.” 

A-Train shakes his head. “What about my family? How do they win?” 

“If you’re dead, if we do this right and Sage doesn’t suspect a thing, then they’ll be honored for your service and left in peace. But we have to do this right.” 

“I don’t-“ 

“A-Train,” you hiss. “This is the something. This is the better, and this is what I’m asking of you. You’re going to leave with them, you’re going to help them. You don’t have to like it, but this is it.” 

“How will I be able to help,” he protests, still pushing and there’s no time. “I mean, if I’m fucking ‘dead’-” 

“You have insider knowledge of the tower. You have insider knowledge of Vought, and Homelander, and Sage. You can help them, you just have to go.” 

“What about you?” 

You blink. “What?” 

“You’re not going to leave? Run away with them into the sunset?” 

You can hear the words A-Train won’t say. You can see them on his face and hear them echo in your head. Leave with Ben. Run away with Ben and be safe and let him care for you until this is just another nightmare. 

“I mean, you can’t just keep-“ 

“I’m going to stay.” You mutter, hating the words on your tongue. They taste bitter and foul, like sour coconut. “I have to stay.” 

“That’s-“ 

“Not up for debate.” You cross your arms, holding A-Train’s glare. “I have to see this through. They’re here for a reason, and once I know what, I can work it into my plan.” 

“You’re still doing a plan?” You don’t love the disbelief in A-Train’s voice. “There’s no fucking way you can keep this up-“ 

“I don’t have to keep it up.” You snap. “I just have to get through it. I’m staying, you’re going, that’s that.” 

A-Train pauses, and you can almost hear his brain trying to find a way to disagree. But you’ve done this well, and he lets out a long, heavy, angry sigh. “What do you need me to do.” 

“Thank you,” you give him a half-smile. “I’m going to find them. I’ll tell Ashley I just need to sit down, because I’m getting cramps or something, and I’ll go find them.” Find Ben. “Find out what they’re doing, why they’re here. I need you to find Ezekiel.” 

“Ezekiel?” A-Train frowns. “I haven’t seen that guy all day-“ 

“He’s here. This is his event, he’s on the program. You’re going to find him, and trick him into walking into them.” 

“Trick him? How am I-“ 

“Tell him they’re here. Tell him they’re looking for new members of the Seven and killing Butcher is a surefire way to get a foot in the door. Tell him Hughie’s here, he hates Hughie. Just get him to fight them. Preferably away from the crowd, but not until Homelander’s speech.” Your fingers are tapping against your arm, making changes to the plan as you speak. “Ezekiel can’t just go alone, he’ll mess up the plan, so you have to make him wait. After you talk to him, say you’re going to find where they are, so you can fight them together, and come find me. I’ll burn out your tracker, you’ll bring Ezekiel to fight them, make it loud, and ‘die’. My team will take care of getting you out, hopefully they’ll kill Ezekiel on the way, and I’ll know what I need to do on my end.” 

“For your plan.” 

“For my plan.” 

A-Train shakes his head. “Are you going to tell me your plan?” 

“No. All you have to do is die.” 

“Fuck.” He takes off his visors, meeting your eyes fully. “You think this will work?” 

No room for error, no room for doubt. “It has to.” 

He nods slowly. “Where am I going to find you?” 

Wherever Ben is. “You might have to look. I’m not sure yet.” 

“You’ll burn out my tracker?” 

“As soon as you find me.” 

“And my family-“ 

“Will be fine.” You give him a close-lipped, tight smile. “Promise. Just find Ezekiel.” 

“Fine.” A-Train put his visors back on. “See you on the other side.” 

He’s gone in a rush of wind, and you’re alone in the porta potty. Just you, the horrible smell of shit, and that thing in your chest. 

Ben. It is him. He’s here, and you can feel him. It’s something you’ll have to retcon later, why you can feel him, what this feeling actually is, but right now Ben is here. And you have to find him. 

You find Ashley first, and tell her you’re throwing up from period cramps in quick, blunt words. 

“Can’t you just hold it?” She begs, and you give her a flat look. 

“Ashley, do you think Sage will be angrier if I rest in the bathroom but do my speech without a hitch, or if I throw up on live TV?”

She shakes her head, running her hands through her hair. “Fuck! First A-Train’s fucking gone, now you-“ 

“He was freaking out about something,” you shrug. “Wouldn’t tell me what, but I think he’s just calming down.” You make a fake retching sound, and Ashley’s face twists. “Can I please-“ 

“Just go!” 

“Thank you!” You make yourself double over slightly, make your words strained. “I’ll be back-“ 

“I don’t fucking care, just be fast!” 

Ashley turns away, and you’re gone. Find Ben. You have to find Ben. This place is massive, and you can’t just push your way through the crowd—not again, not if you want to keep going—but nothing is more important right now than finding Ben. 

Where would you be, you fucking ass. Where would Ben be at the Believe Expo. 

He’d hate all of this. He’d hate the abstinence only sex education—the fuck do they have against a good time—he’d hate the pandering and holier-than-thou attitudes—these pussies aren’t better than me just because they read a goddamn book—and he’d despise all the morality. All the haughty faces and watered-down language and fake smiles. He’d hate all of this, there wouldn’t be a corner of it he’d enjoy, so you have no fucking clue where you’ll find him. 

You can’t just wander and hope you run into him. You don’t have the time to spare just trying to bump into him. But you need to find him. He’s here and you have to see him. Half because of your plan with A-Train, half because you fucking miss him. You miss him so much, and he’s here, and you can’t just not see him. Not touch him. He’s here and you need him and you love him- 

That thing in your chest rolls around. It’s pulling you forward, and you don’t think twice before you let it. And you know. You know where he’d be. You’d find him anywhere, and you know where he’d be. 

Taking a piss. In the VIP bathrooms, because he has no regard or respect for venue restrictions. He’d need to go to the bathroom, and would not care to use the dogshit porta potties—especially not with his sense of smell being so strong—so he’d just walk right into the VIP bathrooms. No one would stop him, because he’s Ben and he looks right everywhere. Even if he’s in disguise, he still walks and talks like there’s not a place in the world he doesn’t belong. 

There are two VIP bathroom trailers. One is near the trailers, and one is across the venue. You should check both, but he’s in the further one. You just know, he’s in the further one. He’d have been staying on the outskirts of the event, and would be in the further one. So you take a long, grounding breath, steal a black Believe Expo Staff hoodie and cap, and move. Trying to run without people noticing, because there’s no time to just walk. He’s there, you know he’s there, so you have to go. 

Of the three bathrooms in the trailer, two are locked. And one is Ben. There’s no way to explain how you know, but one is Ben. It’s the center one, and he’s in there, and you have to wait. 

You can’t wait out in the open. If a staff member sees you they’ll either make you go “back to work” or recognize you and tell Ashley or Sage that you’re here. So you look around, make sure no one’s watching, and rush into the spare, empty bathroom. Lean against the counter and wait. 

Ben. Ben is here. He’s one door down and now you have to just be patient. You’ll see him soon. 

It’s the longest four minutes of your life. You hate this stupid, amazing man, taking impossibly long pisses and making you love him and not just leaving the bathroom. He must not feel you here, not like you can feel him, because he’d be breaking the door down. 

That’s another thing to be confused about later. How this thing works. Right now the trailer is rumbling slightly, because someone just flushed a toilet, and you can just hear a door opening and closing over the noise of the crowd.

Ben. 

You open your door, and there he is. He’s turned away from you, and wearing a baseball cap that covers his hair, but it’s him. You’d be able to recognize him blind and underwater, and that’s Ben. Tall and broad and walking in rough steps with his hands fisted at his side. Away from you. 

“Ben,” you hiss his name, but he doesn’t turn around. “Benjamin.” 

His steps stutter, but he keeps moving. Getting further and further away. 

“Ben!” Your words are still said in a hushed voice, through your teeth, but you’re almost shouting. “I know you can fucking hear me, you cunt.” 

He stops, but still doesn’t turn. Hands curling tighter, knuckles becoming white. 

“Benjamin, if you don’t turn around right fucking now-“ 

You see his body heave from a sigh, hear a low and frustrated sound, and he turns around with a scowl. 

He’s so fucking handsome. His face is tired and angry, half obscured by his hat, but he’s still everything. And when he sees you, glaring at him with all the anger you can muster when he’s right there, his mouth falls open and that strange feeling—his feeling—roars. 

The shock across his features doesn’t even last a second before he’s moving. Sprinting across the grass with no regard for secrecy or not drawing attention. Sprinting to you. He’s here. 

You don’t have time to take a step back before he’s crashing into you, picking you up and slamming the door behind him. He doesn’t kiss you. You’d thought he’d kiss you, but he just raises you off the ground in the most bone-crushing hug you’ve ever experienced. And you can feel him. You can feel the warmth of his body, the care with which he’s touching you—hands roaming you like he’s not sure you’re real and is trying to check—and the strength of him. Really him. Here and touching you and smelling like pine and gunpowder and full of desperation. He’s so tired—you can feel it in your bones—and he’s trying to pull you closer and closer into him, in a way that would be painful if it wasn’t him. If he wasn’t still holding you like you were holy, like you were just a cloud that might dissipate in his hands if he didn’t stop it with firm hands and adoring touches. 

“You’re real,” his voice is soft and hoarse in your ear, and something in you breaks. He sounds exhausted. “You’re fucking real.” 

“Ben-“ 

He kisses you then. Drops one hand below your thighs and hauls you further up his body, swallowing your words. Swallowing you. It’s just you and Ben, and he’s here. He’s real and touching you like he always has and, just for now, you’re safe. You’re safe in his arms, keeping you steadily off the ground, and getting drunk on him. On his hands kneading your skin and cupping your face, on his mouth against yours. Hungry, always hungry, pushing into you brutally. Trying to take all your breath and give you his. Tongue tracing your teeth and pushing down your throat, sucking and biting your lips and groaning into your open mouth. You take it all. Your hands grab at his hair, push his cap to the floor so you can touch him, and lean as far into him as you can without being him. He’s here. He’s here and you love him and he’s everything. You’re letting him consume you, touch you as much as he wants, because you missed him. Because he’s real, and anything he can give you is enough. If he tries to take your heart, reach into your chest and rip it out, you’ll do it for him and feed it to him. If he bites your neck you hope it will, for once, leave a mark. If he gives you any part of him, you’ll dig a hole in your body and keep it there. Anything to feel him forever, anything to never stop feeling this. Feeling Ben. 

When he finally pulls back, it’s only because you can feel the pounding of his heart under your hands. Only because he’s breathing heavily, chest rising and falling in an uneven pattern, and you’re doing the same. You feel a little dizzy, but you want to keep going. You want to touch him until you pass out and he can take him home. Or to Rome, or Hawaii, or fucking Ohio or Texas or California or anywhere where he’s there and you’re together. Where you can feel like this forever, and it’s just you and Ben. Happy. Where he can always set you down this carefully against the counter, and keep his forehead pressed to yours as you both just hold each other. Where you can close your eyes and fall into him and always trust he’ll catch you. 

He mumbles your name, lips brushing yours as he speaks, and you can’t stop the small sound leaving your throat. A strangled noise of Ben. Ben, I love you. I missed you and I love you and I’m sorry. 

You’re crying. You don’t even realize it until you feel his thumb against your cheek, wiping your tears away, and that makes you cry more. 

“Ben,” you’re whispering. You don’t trust your voice to do anything else. “You’re here.” 

“I’m here.” He mutters. “You’re real.” 

You huff a soft, weak laugh. “I’m real.” 

He nods against you, and when you open your eyes he’s still there. Watching you, always watching you. Looking at you so reverently, and that thing is stronger than you’d ever felt it when he’s touching you. He’s wrapping around you, he’s everywhere around you, full of care and affection and something small and bright that’s resting at the base of his throat. His whole body relaxed and washed with relief. You love him. You love him so much. 

“Hi,” you smile at him, and it’s real. It’s sad and you’re still crying, but Ben is here and nothing can stop you from smiling at him. Just for now, just in this moment, you can smile at Ben and get to mean it. “Can you kiss me again?” 

Ben chuckles, and it’s a sound from deep in his body that moves into yours. He does as you ask, and this time he’s gentle. Not pushing for more, just kissing you until you sigh and hum against his mouth. Letting both of you just savor it, sit in the feeling of comfort and each other. 

When Ben pulls back he draws up slightly, studying your face, tracing it under one hand as the other holds you at your waist. “Are you-“ 

“I’m okay.” 

He doesn’t believe you. Ben frowns and his eyes narrow, and you know he doesn’t believe you. He trusts you, you can feel it, but you can also feel that concrete resolve around you both and you know that Ben isn’t going to just drop it. 

“Don’t-“ 

“I’m not lying,” you move your hands up from his chest, resting them on his shoulders. “I’m okay.” 

“I don’t think you’re lying,” he mutters, scanning over your body. “I know you think you’re okay. You always think you’re okay.” 

You blink at him. “What?” 

“You always say you’re okay, and you’re not.” Your eyes meet again, and there’s something painful in Ben’s. You can feel that pain in his body, but when it reaches his eyes it’s somehow worse. It makes him look sad. “You always fucking think you’re fine, and you believe it, but you’re goddamn not.” 

“I-“ 

“Just,” he sighs, squeezing your hips and running a thumb over your cheekbone. “Tell me the truth. Not what you think is the fucking truth, the factual truth. Are you okay?” 

You don’t answer. You try to answer, but words choke in your throat and suddenly you’re crying. Not soft tears like before, full sobs that shake your body and make you fall into Ben’s chest. He catches you, holds you against him until you can breathe again. He lets you wrap your arms around his torso and traces familiar patterns on your skin, resting his chin on your head and humming so fucking terribly. So off-key and out of tune you almost don’t recognize the song. 

When you do, you pull back and frown at him, blinking away your tears. “Rainbow Connection?” 

“Shut up.” 

“When did you-“ 

“Don’t fucking change the topic.“

“Ben,” you move one hand up to rest against his chest, and he holds it. Pulls it up to his mouth and kisses your palm, and your heart flutters through all its sore fatigue. “I’m okay. I’m really okay. I’m exhausted, but I’m okay.” 

“Homelander-“ 

“Hasn’t touched me,” you whisper. “Not like that.” 

Ben doesn’t stop glaring at you. “Swear it.” 

“Promise. No lies.” You smile at him again. “Would be a weird fucking thing to lie about anyway.” 

Ben rolls his eyes. “Shut up.” 

“Make me.” 

You’re wasting time. You have so little time to find out what the Boys are doing here, why they’ve decided being here is worth such a massive risk, but when Ben kisses you again you don’t really care. It’s just him, big and warm and safe. 

Real. 

When he leans back, you’re not crying anymore. You think you’ve just tired yourself out, or that your body knows there will be time to cry later. Right now Ben is here, and that’s all that matters. 

“Are we going to talk about Rainbow Connection?” You smile at him because you can. As long as Ben is here, you’ll always smile at him. “Did you watch the Muppets again?” 

Something flashes under his skin. Sore and hot, embarrassment. That’s his embarrassment. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“You did-“ 

He kisses you again. He won’t stop kissing you, and you’ve never been less annoyed about anything in your life. Today he’s allowed to kiss you to shut you up. Anything that keeps him here longer, anything you can take and hold in the weeks to come. 

Anything that makes you more certain he’s real. That this isn’t a cruel trick of your brain, and any second you’re going to wake up in a cold room that smells like coconut with Homelander across the mattress. 

But he is. Ben is here and real and you can feel it. A dream wouldn’t feel powerful like this, wouldn’t have all the protection of Ben running through your body, wouldn’t have this strange feeling of something pushing from Ben into you when he holds you. 

“You can gloat about it later,” he grunts against you, before standing up to his full height, looking down at you. “We need to fucking go.” 

You sigh. You’d known this was coming, and you’re honestly surprised it took this long. “We’re not going anywhere, Ben.” 

“The goddamn fucking hell we’re not-“ 

“I have to stay here.” Your voice isn’t loud, or firm. It’s soft and shaking and tired, because you’re exhausted. Because every ounce of will and strength in your body is being used for this. For telling Ben you can’t just go, that he has to leave you here and you’re both going to have to find a way to live with that. “You know I have to stay here.” 

“You don’t have to do a single fucking thing but go,” he’s not yelling. His voice is rising and his words are sharp but he’s not yelling. “You’re not safe here, we need to fucking go-“ 

“I can’t.” You reach up, holding his face between your hands and trying not to shatter when he raises his own to keep you there. “I can’t go, not until I see this through.”  

“Yes, you can! You fucking can!” His voice is loud, but Ben’s still not yelling. You’ve heard him yell, and it’s commanding. Ben’s yell demands attention, demands compliance. This is angry and loud but he’s pleading, and it’s worse. He knows you’re not leaving with him, deep down, so Ben is begging you to change your mind. It’s making you hurt, making all your bones and organs shutter and snap, and it’s horrible. All of this is horrible. “All you fucking have to do is go-“ 

“Ben-“ 

“You’re not fucking safe, I’m not going to goddamn leave you-“ 

“You’re not leaving me,” you smile at him, and your heart is starting to fold in on itself. “This isn’t leaving me.” 

“Yes, it fucking is-“ 

“I’m telling you you’re going to have to go without me. Not now,” your words become quick, slightly panicked, because if Ben leaves now you’ll collapse and not get back up. “But when it’s time. When you go, you’re going without me.” 

“I’ll pick you up and fucking carry you out,” he snaps, and you sigh. 

“I’ll scream.” 

“Then I’ll fucking cover your mouth.” 

“I’ll bite your hand.” 

“And I won’t goddamn feel it.” 

“Then I’ll take off your stupid hat and people will see you.” You shake your head, and try to be a little more numb. Try to pretend this isn’t killing you, that you can’t feel it killing him. “I want to come home Ben, I really want to. But I can’t. You know that.” 

“There’s not a fucking chance in hell I’m letting you stay here-“ 

“Ben,” you whisper. “You don’t let me do anything. I’m staying here, but you’re not leaving me.” 

“I fucking am,” he’s furious, you can feel it coursing through you, but it’s like poison. It’s raging and turning every part of Ben against himself, making your heart start to wither for him. For how he’s doing this to himself. “If I fucking go without you, I’ll be fucking failing you again. I’m not fucking failing you again-“ 

“Benjamin-“ 

“I’m not! I’m never failing you again, I’m never leaving you again, I’m never fucking losing you again-“ 

You pull his head down, and he freezes. Ben lets you hold his head against your shoulder, and when you start to run a hand through his hair he falls onto you. Just holds you like you’re going to try and escape, buries his face in your neck like he can climb in you and stay there. 

“I can’t fucking lose you again,” he mumbles your name against your skin, and your heart grows weaker. “I just fucking can’t.” 

“You didn’t lose me.” You say softly. “You didn’t fail me, or leave me, and you’ll never lose me.” Ben. Ben, I love you. “I’ll come back. I’ll always find my way back to you.” 

“You shouldn’t fucking have to,” he pulls back, and his face is so sad. You’ve never seen Ben sad, where his face is just slack and tired and clouded. He’s still angry, but his wrath is made of despair. Low and sunken and almost sick. That thing in him—in you—feels ill. “I can’t fucking stay here with you, I can’t protect you-“ 

“I’m okay,” you lean forwards, and Ben meets you. Heads pressed together, his arms still around your body and your hands still in his hair. “I’m going to be okay.” 

“You’re fucking not-“ 

“I will,” you whisper, and it’s not just Ben you’re trying to convince. “I’ll be okay. You don’t need to protect me from this, Ben. I’m okay.” 

“Please,” he mutters your name, and your heart finally breaks. Pulls itself in two at how low and desperate and hopeless Ben’s voice is. “Please, just come home. Just fucking come home.” 

“I can’t,” you’re crying again, and these tears are slow. Soundlessly falling from you, the only part of yourself that’s allowed to just mourn this. You’re not going home. Ben hasn’t failed you, he could never fail you, you love him and he’d never leave you or fail you or lose you, but you’re not going home. “We both know I can’t.” 

“I don’t fucking know shit-“ 

“I’m aware,” you smile dryly. “But I still can’t come home.” 

“You can,” his protests aren’t loud anymore. He’s just grasping at straws, trying to find one thing that will make you give up and go. “We’ll just fucking walk away, go to Rome-“ 

“Not until this is over. Not until Homelander’s dead.” 

“He will be,” Ben’s hands squeeze on your hips. “The team has a way to kill him, and they can fucking do it themselves-“

Your eyes widen. “They found a way?” 

“I fucking found a way, they barely did shit-“ 

“Benjamin,” you pull back, and everything is urgent again. “How do you kill Homelander.” 

“V. But-“ 

“V?” 

“Compound fucking V. Puts him down for the count, makes him a damn coma patient.” Ben says your name. “But they can do that themselves, we can go-“ 

“How do you know?” 

“We found a file in his lab-“ 

“His lab?” 

“The fucking Homelander lab, where they used my cum to make him grow-“ 

“That’s fucking disgusting-“ 

“Shut the fuck up, you love my cum-“ 

Now is not the time to let that turn you on. Keep going, no getting sidetracked trading easy, sparring words with him or thinking about his cum. “Ben, are you sure this will work?“

“I’m fucking positive, the lab nerds were real clear that even one shot of V throws off his whole body and turns the pussy into a vegetable.” 

“Won’t you still need to blast him with the special sauce?” 

Ben rolls his eyes. “They can make their own goddamn special sauce. Pump Homelander full of V, find their own fucking way to take him out forever. Drop a nuke on him, I don’t give a fuck. We-”

“That’s why you’re here.” Your brain spins, sorting and matching every piece of this together. “Samaritan’s embrace was a V front, and you’re looking for some.” 

“We’re fucking finding some, and killing Homelander, so you can go-“ 

“You won’t.” You pull Ben face forwards, forcing his words to die in his throat, making him listen. “Ben, you’re not going to find any V here.” 

He frowns, momentarily distracted from lightly tugging at your skin and pleading for you to leave. “What the fuck are you talking about. Butcher said-“ 

“Butcher was wrong,” you shake your head. “I mean, he might have been right last week, maybe even this morning, but if there was V here it’s gone now.” 

“Why-“ 

“Sage said she was dealing with a Homelander mistake last week. She must have been talking about the lab, about how you were able to get in and poke around. And nobody’s seen her or Homelander or Ezekiel all day. Whatever V was left, they’ve gotten rid of it.” 

Ben scowls. “So we can just find more-“ 

“Sage won’t leave more.” You tap your fingers against Ben’s jaw, trying to focus and not think about how he’s stilled himself completely to let you talk yourself through this. “She won’t get rid of it, not all of it, it’s too valuable, but she’ll hide it. Any supplies that might be accessible to anyone that could be hypothetically compromised will be destroyed or relocated. She won’t tell anyone, won’t leave any records. It’ll be as good as gone.” 

Ben hums, and you see his question in the knit of his brows. Well how are we supposed to fucking get our hands on it? 

“I’m not sure,” you mutter, frowning. Scanning Ben’s face like you might find the answer in it, and not stopping when you don’t because you just want to look at him. “I’d bet on Homelander, he and Sage don’t really trust each other, not enough for him to let her just bulldoze any plans or intentions he might have with remaining V. But it’s not a safe bet, Homelander’s never a safe bet.” You feel something tight and bitter in his chest, and sigh. “I’m okay, Ben.” 

He rolls his eyes, still not moving under your hands. I didn’t fucking say shit. 

“Yeah, but you thought it.” 

What are you, a fucking mind reader? 

“With you?” You smile at him, and it’s so easy. Even when you’re talking about killing Homelander, it’s still easy to smile at Ben. “I might as well be.” 

Smartass. 

“Fuck you.” 

He grins. Not in public, Sunshine. 

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up. And we’ll just have to ask A-Train when he gets back.” You sigh. “I can’t think of anything else that might work.” 

Your fingers have stilled on Ben’s face—now just playing with the hair of his beard—and he takes it as a sign to speak. “A-Train?” 

“The fast one.” 

“Why the fuck are we waiting for him?” 

“He’s defecting,” you shrug. “He’s leaving with you today, you’re going to have to fake his death by the way-“ 

“Fucking Fast-Man is coming home, but not you?” Ben’s glaring at you, saying your name in a deep, annoyed voice. “I am not fucking trading you-“ 

“You’re not trading me, Benjamin.” You hold his glare. “I’ll come home soon, just not now. And A-Train is going to help you. He helped me.” 

“How the fuck has he helped you?” Ben grumbles. “He hasn’t gotten you out-“ 

“Nobody’s gotten me out, because I’m waiting. I have a plan-“

Ben scoffs, but that strange feeling in him pulses with warmth. “Of course you have a plan.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You always have a damn plan, Sunshine.” He glowers at you. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not have a fucking plan.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “And how is that a bad thing?” 

“It’s not,” Ben mutters. “But I just fucking wish you would share your plans. With me. Let me goddamn help.” 

All the annoyance in you vaporizes in just how much you love him. How much you love Ben, how no matter what he’s there. He trusts you, he knows you, and he’s there for you all the time. He’ll groan and bitch about everything but he’ll still be there. He’ll try and fight your battles for you, roll his eyes and be a grump when you don’t let him, and stay at your side until you’ve won. He’ll be there to do what you need him to and then hold you like this—with so much rough care—even when he’s pissed. He won’t leave. He’ll never leave, not really. And you love him. 

“It has to play out naturally,” you say, gently. Smiling so that his scowl starts to waver. “If I tell you what to do it might not work as well. I’ll come home soon, you just have to let me do this my way. Please.” 

Ben lets out a long, labored sigh that makes his chest rumble, makes your whole body fall into his. “Fine. Fucking fine.” 

“Thank you.” 

He just grunts, and you pull his face back yours. Kiss him long and soft. Never looking for more, just trying to touch him. Just trying to have him while you can, before A-Train finds you and tells you this has to be over. You don’t ever want this to be over, you only want to kiss Ben like you have all the time in the world. Like every moment in this bathroom isn’t being borrowed and running out fast. 

You almost tell him. Right here, in a Believe Expo bathroom with Ben cupping your jaw and looking down at you with affection as his arm cages you to his chest, you almost say it. Ben. Ben, I love you. You’re going to have to let me stay here, but please know that I love you. Please, please wait for me and don’t hate me because I love you. I’m trying to make myself okay with keeping it together and leaving you to go home alone, but I’m so close to breaking. Please just tell me to damn the consequences, damn the world, and bring me home. Or to Rome, or to the farthest corner of the world, but with you. Please pick me up and take me with you because I love you and I can’t keep this up much longer. I’m okay, I’m really okay, but I’m so close to falling apart. I love you, fuck everything else because I love you and I want to go home. 

You’re crying again. They’re not singular, lonesome and tragic tears or shaking screams and sobs of hollow and empty. They’re small, wet gasps as you try to fight the words down. Try to stop yourself from ruining everything just because you can’t do this. You don’t want to do this. You don’t want Ben to go, and he has to go, but it’s going to be the most painful thing in the world. Even if you know you’ll be home soon. 

He mutters your name, deep and firm, and now you’re crying more. You love him. “What-“ 

You kiss him. You grab his shirt and yank him down and just kiss him. You can’t tell him you love him, not like this. Not when you can’t hold him all night and wake up next to him in the morning. Not now, when you have to stay here. But you’re going to tell him, you recognize that impossible to quell instinct of Ben. Ben, I love you, pushing up your throat and you only know one way to stop it. Ben, kissing him and touching him and turning those words into just sounds. Into moans and whines that he won’t understand. So you just pull Ben into you, and hope he’ll do the rest. 

He does. He’ll always do this for you. His hands will always find a firm, natural hold on your body and his mouth will always fit perfectly against yours. He’ll always fill with hunger and adoration, and give you everything he can until you’re—at least for now—whole again. He’ll always make all that noise, all that loud, angry pain in your head that’s trying to find a why, why is this so unfair that you have to stay here and Ben can’t stay with you, why won’t the world give you one thing, just one thing that you don’t have to rage to keep, and why does time have to keep moving when this day is going that have to end without Ben at your side, and he’ll make it go away. Ben will always make all the sounds and rushing thoughts in your head slow until it’s just him. Just Ben. Ben, I love you. He’ll make the whole world only Ben, rubbing circles on your skin and pulling you impossibly closer, pressing his tongue to your lips in a silent question, and taking everything you give him. 

You want to give him everything. Only opening your mouth for him to move deeper into you—to suck and bite and taste—and leaning into him so your hands are scraping at his neck, so his groans run through your body and down into you, isn’t enough. Making high, needy sounds that Ben swallows isn’t enough, grinding half against his torso and half onto the counter isn’t enough, because it doesn’t tell him. It doesn’t show him that you’ve missed him and you want him and need him and love him. Everything you can’t say, not now, you still need him to feel. He can’t feel you like you feel him, can’t understand without words how important he is to you. He can’t feel your love, not like you can feel that thing in him rumbling somewhere sacred in his chest. Bouncing off his ribcage and hungry and wanting for carnage. Wanting you, desperate for you in a bloody and wrathful way that tells you Ben cares. He might not love you, but he’s missed you. That even if he’s furious he’ll have to go without you, it's still about you. You and Ben together, right now, having each other. 

He has to have all of you. He has to have every part of you that you don’t need to see this through, so he can protect those instead. So he can keep some sort of knowledge that walking away from him—even if it’s temporary, which it is, because nothing is permanent except you and Ben so you will always find a way back to him—is impossible. It’s going to keep you up for many nights, haunt all your dreams until he’s there to hold you like this again. You have to, you can’t see another way out of this that doesn’t end in the world destroyed and Homelander the king of whatever remains, but it’s killing you. Ben needs to understand that this is killing you, that you’ve never wanted or loved anything like you need him. And the only way to show him is to give him all of you. 

“Ben,” you gasp against his mouth, and it drops to leave sloppy kisses down your jaw and neck. Letting you speak but not making it easy. Not when he’s pulling skin gently between his teeth and running his hand up your back. “Please.” 

“Please?” He hums, moving back up to look at you fully. Hands still kneading at your thigh and wrapping around your body. “What-“ 

“Fuck me.” You lean forward, trying to pull him back down. He can’t be away from you, not for a second, not now when he’s going to have to go so soon. “Please, fuck me.” 

His eyes widen, and even as the hunger roars inside him Ben frowns. “Here?” 

You nod desperately. “Please-“ 

“Sunshine,” his hold on you has become like iron, and you can feel the enormity of his want, feel his hardened cock pushing into your thigh, but he’s shaking his head. “I am not fucking you for the first time in a goddamn bathroom.” 

“Ben-“ 

“I said I wanted to take time,” Ben leaned down, holding your gaze. His eyes are darkened, and you can feel him. Everywhere you can feel Ben, in your body and around you and running between your bodies where the boundary of Ben or you doesn’t matter anymore. “And I fucking meant it. I am not fucking you when I can’t take a goddamn week off to do it, when there’s not even a fucking bed.” 

“Please, I just want-“ 

“I know what you want,” he growls your name, and you whine. “And fucking believe me, I want it as well. The only thing I want more than to fuck you stupid is to bring you the hell home. But,” he shakes his head, and presses a kiss to your brow, grunting the words against your skin. “You’re a stubborn fucking brat who doesn’t listen, so I’m not taking you home. And there’s not a fucking chance in hell I’m fucking you for the first time in a bathroom at a fucking Christ Convention.” 

You sigh, falling further into him. He’s right, which is annoying because he’s always so smug about when he’s right, but he’s right. Ben can’t fuck you, not here, not now. You can’t tell him you love him, you can’t go home with him, but you also can’t fucking him at the Christ Convention. 

Ben pulls back, watching you with silent eyes that are trying to dissect you. You love when he watches you like this, like he can see you, and you hope he never stops. You hope when you close your eyes tonight, alone in a cold room, you’ll still have the image of him watching you. 

You offer him a small smile. “How are you enjoying the Christ Convention?” 

“It’s fucking stupid,” he mutters. “Dumbest shit I’ve ever seen. Bunch of high and mighty pussies who think they know everything. Butcher said they do this every year,” he shakes his head like that’s an impossible thought. “Wouldn’t have fucking let that slide in my day.” 

You hum. “I mean, evangelical Christianity was definitely a thing in the 80s. And 70s. And 60s. Mass media just inflates connection and audience.” 

Ben rolls his eyes. “Every year is still goddamn insane. The man has been dead for thousands of goddamn years, there’s nothing fucking new to say.” 

You laugh, burying your head in his shoulder. His arms hold you there, safe and comfortable against him, and it takes a lot out of you not to cry again. To just mumble against his skin, “I see you haven’t killed Butcher yet.” 

“Yet.” He grunts. “Fucking asshole’s on goddamn thin ice. Borrowed time.” 

You smile. “Well, I’m proud of you anyway.” 

His arms tense around you, and that thing glows. Somewhere in that carefully tended and protected part of Ben where it lives, it starts to feel ardent and light. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls you closer, but you feel it. Glowing inside him. 

“Has anything changed,” you don’t move from speaking against him, because Ben will hear you anywhere. “Since I’ve been…” 

You can’t finish that sentence. You can’t say that word. And Ben knows, because he doesn’t make you. “No.” 

“Nothing?” 

“We haven’t exactly been fucking team building and circle jerking, Sunshine,” he drawls, and you still smile. You missed him. “We’ve got goddamn jobs to do.” 

“And you haven’t killed anyone? Even when they’re being idiot pussies?” 

He snorts. “They’ve managed not to deserve it yet.” 

“Deserve it?” 

“They’re listening to you.” 

You lean back, and frown at him. “To me?” 

“When you tell us to trust you,” he grunts. “When you go on TV.” 

Something you hadn’t fully realized was there loosens around your throat. “You’ve seen me? You’ve gotten it?” 

“Of course I’ve fucking seen you,” Ben mutters, and his glare is more indigent than anything else. “Green for me to listen. To make sure I know you’re still fucking you.” 

You smile, and it’s all teeth and a little bit of joy. He’s seen you, and he’s been paying attention, and he understands. “Good.” 

Ben rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to do green, I’ll listen no matter fucking what.” 

“It’s a signal-“ 

“I don’t need a fucking signal to know you’re okay,” he snaps your name. “I can see it on your face. When your little fucking act drops and you look like you. I need to know when you’re not okay. When I have to come get you.” 

“Ben-“ 

“I won’t,” he holds your eyes, voice firm. “I won’t come get you until you say. I’ll go along with your stupid fucking secret plan, but I need a way to know if you need me. If it’s gone to shit and you need me.”

You sigh. He needs this. Ben is doing the impossible thing you’re asking of him and only demanding one thing in return. You couldn’t say no if you wanted to. “Blue.” You squeeze his bicep, and give him another smile. “If I need you, which I won’t,” Ben glares at you, but you keep going. “I’ll wear blue. And you can come get me.” 

You’ll never wear blue again. If Ashley or Sage or Homelander try to put you in blue, you’ll spill food or coffee all over the outfit or just fucking burn it. But—likely even when you go home—you’ll never wear blue again. You’ll never wear blue or smell coconut without throwing up, you won’t drink a milkshake for a long time, and you’ll hate the winter forever. You’ll have to stay where it’s warm, you’ll have to keep Ben with you so he can block chilling winds and hold you against him like this. In a way that makes everything hot, makes your blood rush in a way that’s just you and him together. You’ll do anything to keep Ben with you when this is over. You’ll offer him this comfort that there’s a signal to tell him you need him—even if you’ll always need him, regardless of Homelander or Vought or any plan or mission—and whatever else he asks for so he’ll wait for you and hold you when you return. 

“Blue,” he repeats, nodding slowly. “Swear it.” 

“Promise.” You search his eyes, and try not to cry when you can see just how tired he is. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t-“ 

“Benjamin.” You shake your head, and lean back into him. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.” 

“I haven’t done a fucking thing-“ 

“You’re here.” You whisper. “You’re going to let me do what I need to do, and you’re waiting. That’s all you have to do, but it still fucking sucks, so thank you.” I love you. 

Ben scoffs. “I thought I didn’t let you do anything.” 

You huff a soft, sad laugh. “But I’m going to thank you anyway.” You look back up at him and smile. Wide and bittersweet, but still real. This is still real. “Thank you.” 

He watches you for a second, and that thing in him is glowing again. Glowing and burning. Hungry. 

Then he’s on his knees. Ben’s hands move to hold your thighs, and he falls to his knees between your legs, smirking up at you. Eyes still tired and body still washed in distant pain, but the hunger overtaking all of it. The devotion is spreading over all of him, climbing into you. 

“Ben-“ 

“I am not fucking you here,” he winks up at you, and you don’t think your heart is working anymore. It’s gone into overdrive and it’s going to explode. “But I can still make you feel fucking good.” 

Your eyes widen, and you feel heat rush into your face. You feel heat rush everywhere. “Okay.” 

“Say it,” he grunts, and you know what he wants. You always know what he wants. 

“Please,” you grab his face, running your fingers back into his hair. “Please, Ben.” 

“More.” 

“I want you,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to stay stable otherwise. Not when one of Ben’s hands is drawing closer to your center, hovering right over your underwear. “Ben, I want you, please-“ 

His thumb presses right over your clit, and your words turn into a long moan. “All you fucking have to do is ask, beautiful.” He grins up at you. “Say my name and ask.” 

“Ben-“ 

“Whole thing.” 

“Benjamin, please-“ 

He stands up, crashing his mouth against yours as his hand moves under your panties, teasing you gently. Rubbing his thumb lightly while he slides his fingers between you, but never in. Groaning into your mouth when he feels how wet you’ve become, how much you want him.

“Fucking needy, Sunshine.” He mutters, pulling his hand away, taking your underwear with him and dropping it on the floor. “So fucking needy.” 

You only moan, trying to grind into him enough that he’ll just come back, and he pulls his mouth away, grinning down at you. He looks so handsome, with dark eyes and full lips that were just on you and why can’t he just come back- 

His fingers—the ones that had just been touching you—raise into his mouth, and you almost fall off the counter. Almost jump him when he makes a low, satisfied sound and watches you with a cocky smirk. How you’re wrecked and he’s not even touching you anymore. 

“Please-“ 

He pulls his fingers out his mouth and grabs your face, yanking it up to him. His hand in your hair, your taste is in his mouth, his body so strong and warm and Ben and he’s everything- 

“Fucking good,” he mutters against your lips, and you whimper. “You’re so fucking good.” He says your name, and you think you might just cum from that. The impossibly good sound of your name from Ben’s mouth, in his deep and powerful voice. 

“Ben,” your words are just breath, but you know he understands, because he grunts and his hands that’s moved under your thigh squeezes you. “Please. More, please-“ 

He’s gone again, moving you back down to the counter and returning to his knees. You almost whine again, almost make a desperate sound that was probably supposed to be come back, but then he’s everywhere. His hands hook under your knees, and he tugs you forwards. Right into his mouth. 

He’s done this once. It made you scream his name and see stars, but this is better. He’s learning, you realize, because he’s already doing everything he needs to do to bring you up to the edge. After just one time he’d somehow memorized every single thing that made you melt, and now he’s on a mission. 

He moves one hand to knead and bruise your thigh around him, while using the other to brace against your abdomen, keeping you still as he works. 

His tongue is there first. Licking you once until he brushes your clit, flicking it once, feeling your thighs tighten around him, and chuckling as he does it again. 

“You fucking like that?” He mutters, and you just moan and try to roll your hips against his face. 

He laughs and does it again, lighter this time, so feather like and teasing you until you whine. Until it’s too much and you’re aching before he flattens his tongue against you and hums, running it down, up, down, and into you. Ben pushing his tongue into you, and starts to fuck you with him mouth. 

His teeth are brushing against you when he pushes in, letting out a growl when you clench around him that makes his nose bump your clit. You make a strangled sound and he finds a rhythm. His tongue doesn’t stop moving, twisting and fucking you as he squeezes the skin of your thigh, then rises for just enough to nip at your clit and sooth it with a kiss before dropping back down. 

Ben won’t let you cum. He knows exactly when that line is and he’s taunting you with it, grunting into you as you start to shake above him, as you tug at his hair or moan his name. He goes faster, eating you like he’s been starved until you start to tremble, and then he slows down, running his tongue between your pussy and clit, never fully touching either. Starting it all over the moment your breathing becomes steady. 

“Ben,” you whisper, and he looks up at you with so much devotion and affection it almost makes you fall apart just from him. From how relaxed he looks, between your legs. How his eyes are hungry and lustful and full of light. For you. “Please.” 

He hums against you, and you shiver as the sound runs up your spine. “More?” 

“Please.” 

“You want me?” 

“I need you.” 

He smirks up at you. “You need me, Sunshine? Need me to make you fucking cum?” 

“Yes,” you breathe out as his hand moves from your thigh, tracing circles around you and over you but never pushing in. “Ben, please. I need you, please-“ 

Two broad, rough fingers push into you and your words dissolve into a moan. Ben pumps them once, and once more when you squeeze around him. “Like that? You fucking need me to do that?” 

“Ben-“ 

“So fucking tight,” he mutters, gaze dropping down to watch you clench around him when he moves again. “You’re so fucking tight, beautiful, it’s gonna fucking kill me.” 

You can’t speak anymore, not when he moves in and out again, and again, and again. Setting a brutal, demanding pace that has you unable to think outside of Ben. Rough, strong fingers inside of you that are Ben’s and making you feel so good. 

“No smart words from that pretty fucking mouth?” he hums your name, and you whine. 

“Ben-“ 

“There’s one.” He winks at you, and you melt further into him. Try to use your leg to pull him closer. “Let’s see if we can make you scream it.” 

He drops back down and bites your clit. It’s gentle and light, but Ben bites you and you have to move a hand to cover your mouth so you don’t scream his name. You’re trying to grind onto his face, his fingering still fucking you without relent or relief, and you need him to keep going. To bite you or lick you or do something to bring you over the edge. But his arm is keeping you so torturously still, you can only grip his hair and throw your head back as he goes and goes and goes and you’re full of him. He’s in you and on you, his tongue tracing taunting circles around your clit, and it’s all Ben. 

Then he kisses you. He leaves one, painfully soft kiss against your clit as his fingers still deep inside you, and you’re so close. 

“Ben-“ 

You feel him grin against you, and he crooks his fingers in you against that one spot as he pulls your clit into his mouth. He sucks on it and groans, and that’s it. Everything is Ben, flicking his tongue against you with a growl and scissoring his fingers to give friction inside you, and you have to bite your hand as you cum. As everything grows loose and good, the whole world becomes both so big and wide but it’s still just Ben. It’s still just Ben in all the warmth and pleasure, making you feel like you’re made of stardust and more important than the sun as he keeps going through your orgasm until you’re shaking. Until you’re trying to pull him back up because you need to see him. You need him to kiss you again because you love him, and this is going to be over so soon and you just need to see him. Show Ben that he’s done this, that every part of you is his and nothing else has ever mattered like this matters. 

You almost damn it. He’s pulled you apart and put you back together, still going, and now you have to tell him. Ben has to know, he has to know you love him. It’s so impossibly crucial that Ben understands you love him. You say it, you say Ben, I love you, but he’s done his job too well and all that comes out is a breathless, wanting sound. Every part of your body, of your mind and soul tries to say it as well. Ben. Ben, I love you. Ben, I love you. Please understand, please try and feel how much I love you and tell me you understand. But he's still going, even as your thighs start to crush his head, and all you get is a roar. That thing inside him roars, and moves to fully rest in you. You don’t understand it, you’re not even sure Ben understands it, but it’s sitting in you now just as much as him, and it’s the most natural thing you’ve ever felt. It hums when you repeat the words in your head, when you think Ben. Ben, I love you, and pray he’ll somehow hear it, somehow see it on your face when he’s still between your legs. He doesn’t, but that thing always makes another low, happy sound and that can be enough. Everything is light and high, and this strange thing that lives in Ben but feels like it’s yours can be enough. 

Ben, after what might have been a thousand years, stands up. He’s staring at you—still slightly shaking and flushed, words still a little far away—and the look in his eyes is reverent. His face is covered in you and his beard is wet but he’s not moving to wipe it away. He just kisses you, one last long time, and mutters your name against your lips. 

“You’re perfect,” his voice is low and wanting, and you shutter against him. Feel his hard cock twitch against you. “You’re so fucking perfect.” 

In the grand scheme of things, it’s probably a good thing A-Train finds you when he does. Because if you’d been left alone with Ben for about three more seconds the part of you that’s been begging you to just go, go home with Ben and the rest of the world can figure out how to deal with this themselves, just tell Ben you love him and go, would’ve won. 

That doesn’t mean you can’t be annoyed when the room is rushed with cold air and A-Train slams the door behind him. 

Ben’s faster than you—in all fairness he didn’t just have an earth-shattering orgasm and you’re at a disadvantage—and turns to block your body from view, roaring at A-Train. 

“What the fucking hell-“ 

“Calm down, asshole.” Peaking over Ben’s shoulder you can see that A-Train’s facing the wall, back to you both. “This isn’t something I want to see. I’m just doing my job.” 

“Get fuck out-“ 

You reach around Ben’s head and cover his mouth with a hand, staying behind him as you lean over his body to address A-Train. “Are we ready?” 

A-Train nods. “Ezekiel’s waiting for me, I told him I’d find where your team is then come get him.” 

“Okay,” you sigh, trying to focus on running through your mental checklist when you can still feel Ben, when your legs have wrapped themselves around his torso. “I’ll burn out your tracker, and we’ll get going.”

Ben licks your hand, and it surprises you enough to pull back. 

“Benjamin, what the hell-“ 

“Does anyone want to fucking tell me what’s going on?” He snaps, glaring at you over his shoulder. “Or am I supposed to just goddamn stay in the dark?” 

“I did tell you,” you kick his thigh slightly. “A-Train’s defecting, you’re going to kill him-“ 

“Don’t actually kill me,” A-Train cuts in, still facing away from you. “I’m not doing this if this dick is going to actually kill me.” 

“He’s knows that-“ 

Ben shrugs. “I don’t know shit.” 

You pinch him, shooting him a flat look. You’re being unhelpful. Shut up and get me decent. 

He rolls his eyes, and ducks down to pick your discarded underwear off the floor. You keep speaking as he helps you into them, allowing yourself to sit slightly in the feeling of him touching you, hands running up your legs and arms holding you still. 

“They won’t kill you, A-Train. Ben, promise you won’t kill him.” 

“Whatever.” 

“Benjamin.” 

“Fine, I won’t fucking kill him.” 

You glare at him. “Promise.” 

“I swear I won’t kill him.” He glares at you, drawing back up to his full height. “Happy?” 

You smile at him. “Very.” And it’s not even a lie. “A-Train, you can look.” 

Ben steps to the side—you have to shove him slightly, but he does—and A-Train turns around slowly. 

“My tracker?” 

You nod, pushing off the counter and crossing the bathroom. “This might take a second.” 

Ben follows you, standing behind you silently as you raise your hand over A-Train’s extended arm and close your eyes. This will work, this has to work. Ben’s right here, and he’s warm, and right now you’re not afraid, so this will work. 

It takes a few minutes of slow breathing and focus, but you drag just enough up fire. You can do this. 

You glance at A-Train once. “This might really hurt.” 

“Just do it-“ 

The flame forms in the palm of your hand and your eyes narrow. Concentrating it into something like a needle and pushing it into A-Train’s arm. He flinches, face twisting, but doesn’t pull away as you work. Smoke fills the room, all three of you watching the beam of fire twist and scorch A-Train’s skin, burning it with the tracker. Ben’s shoulder nudges yours and you pause, looking up at him. 

“What?” 

“It’s gone,” he grunts. “I heard it, it’s fried.” 

A-Train frowns. “You sure?”

“Fucking positive.” 

“Then,” A-Train looks back at you. “We’re good?” 

You glance at Ben, who gives you a tight nod. “I guess.” 

A-Train looks between you and Ben again, but rests his arm back at his side. “Is he going to tell your team-“ 

“I’ve got it fucking handled,” Ben snaps. “Pretend to kill you, bring you back. Find another way to get V.” 

“V?” 

Your eyes widen. You’d almost forgotten. “Fuck, wait. A-Train where did you find Ezekiel?” 

“He was backstage,” he shrugs. “Most of that time was spent convincing him, he’s annoying as hell-” He frowns at you, cutting himself off. “Why?” 

“We need some V,” you sigh. “But if he was backstage that means they finished cleaning up. There won’t be any left, not here.” 

“Why do you need V?” A-Train shakes his head. “That shit is horrible for you, it almost fucking killed me-“ 

“It knocks Homelander out. We need it to kill him.” You look at Ben, and find him watching you carefully. “You’re going to need to tell Butcher what I told you. You’re not going to find V any way you might have before.” 

Ben scowls. “Well then how the fuck-“ 

“Homelander,” you swallow down the lump and bile in your throat. “He’s the only bet we have. He had to have kept some-“ 

“He keeps some in his apartment,” A-Train interjects, and you turn to see him frowning at you, hands on his hips. “I saw it, even took some for Hughie. It’s in a box.” 

“I’ve never seen it-“ 

“He might have moved it when you arrived,” A-Train shrugs. “But he has some.” 

You nod, chewing on your tongue, and feel Ben’s arms wrap around you. Pulling you back into his chest.

“You don’t have to fucking get it.” He mutters. “We’ll find another way-“ 

You sigh, and tilt your head back to look up at him. “There’s not always another way, Ben. We have to get through this, not around it.” 

He glares at you. Come home. Just fucking come home. 

I can’t. You stand on your toes, leaning further into him, and give him a gentle smile. You have to go, and I can’t come with you. 

His body tenses around you, and he makes a deep, pained sound from his chest. I fucking hate this. This is fucking stupid and I fucking hate it. 

I know. You squeeze his arm around you and force yourself not to cry. You can’t cry now, because you won’t stop and this will never work. I know you do. But I’ll see you again. Soon. 

Fucking swear it. Swear you’ll come home. 

I promise. 

He nods, and turns you around. Kisses you again, and you know this is the last one for a while. He’s not pushing into you or trying to get more, he’s just trying to memorize you and you’re doing the same to him. You already knew all of Ben—and he knows all of you—but you need to have it leave a mark that you can carry when he goes. You need to still remember in a week, still feel how his muscles move around you like he’s still holding you, have his taste remain on your tongue when he’s not there pushing it into you, smell pine and gunpowder and Ben over the coconut. You’ll certainly have how he sounds—you’ll never lose how Ben sounds because his phantom will stay with you—but you want all of it. You need all of it if you’re going to keep going. 

A-Train coughs, and Ben pulls away with one last, gentle movement. 

“We have to get moving,” when you turn, A-Train isn’t looking at you, but frowning at Ben. “Homelander will be back real soon, for his speech.” 

Homelander’s speech. Your speech. You have to go do your speech. “Okay.” 

You have to force every step as you pull away from Ben’s body. He doesn’t let you go, not fully, allowing you to turn before dropping his head down to yours. 

“Come home.” It’s final. He’s still asking, even when he knows the answer, one final time.

“Soon,” you whisper. “You’re not losing me, Ben. You just have to wait for me.” 

“I’ll always fucking wait for you.” He grunts, and your heart isn’t going to recover from this. Not for a long time. “I’ll wait a million goddamn years, as long as you always fucking come home.” 

“Always.” You mumble, and he nods. “Thank you.” 

“You burn, I burn,” his breath fans against your face, and you can feel that thing in him start to riot. Claw up your lungs—Ben’s lungs—and throat. Furious and loud. 

So you just make a small, sad sound because you’re out of tears and sobs and sighs and smiles. “You burn, I burn.” You look up, and meet his eyes. “Can you do me a favor, Ben?” 

He just grunts, and you know he understands. You’re not asking, you’re cashing one of your last favors in. But it’s not for you. 

“Don’t be a dick to Ryan, please.” 

Ben blinks at you. “What?” 

“Ryan Butcher.” You watch him carefully. “Don’t be an ass to him. He’s just a kid.” 

“I haven’t been a fucking ass-“ 

“Yes, you have.” You trace a hand along his beard, resting it at the base of his neck. “I know you, Ben. You might not be being an ass on purpose, but you’re blaming him for this. He’s just a kid, it’s not his fault. None of this is his fault.” 

“You’re only here-“ 

“Because of Homelander,” you shake your head against his. “Not because you lost me, or failed me. Not because of Ryan or even Butcher. Because of Homelander. So please, just be kind to Ryan. For me.” 

He stands up, and holds you against him for one last moment. “Fine.” He pauses and kisses the top of your head, speaking the last words against you in a way that rolls through your body. “For you.” 

“I’ll see you soon,” you whisper into his chest, your words right over his heart. Right over where you can still feel that thing tearing Ben apart. You hope he’ll carry them until you’re home and can tell that thing to rest. 

Ben nods. “Soon.” 

A-Train’s been waiting, and you’re thankful for how he doesn’t say anything. How he lets Ben and you peel yourselves apart, lets Ben pick up his cap, gives you one last curt nod, and doesn’t comment on how you love Ben, or make you say any more promises. You only have room for two promises now, because they’re the most important ones you’ll ever make. Kill Homelander. Go home. You only have in it you to nod back, and try not to fall to the floor and scream when Ben gives you one last look and a kiss on the crease of your brow. When he walks out the door—like you’d told him to—and you have to watch him go. When A-Train leaves as well, and you trust both of them to do what you need them to, but it still shatters you. You’d had him. He was real and warm and here and you’d had him. There wasn’t a world where you kept him—not today—but this is still the most painful thing you’ve ever done. 

He’s lingering. You’re finding your way back to the stage and Ben’s likely still across the venue, but he’s still in you. That impossible to understand thing is still in you where it had been in Ben, and it’s not fading. It’s setting itself into you, and making you feel Ben even when you pull off your disguise and try to fix your makeup and smooth your hair in a backstage mirror. It’s making it hard to acknowledge that doing that—staying there with him for so long and letting him touch you like you’d needed—wasn’t smart, because this is all you’ll have for a while. At least until you revise your plan, until you figure out a way to get your team the V they need. As much as it hurts, you’re praying that this thing stays with you until you’re back in Ben’s arms. It might be the only way you get through this. 

Ashley finds you minutes later, her hair a mess and a wild, panicked look in her eyes. “Where the fuck did you go?!” 

“I was in the bathroom-“ 

“The bathroom?!” She shakes her head frantically. “For almost a fucking hour?!” 

You shrug, looking around nervously. No Homelander. No Sage. “I can’t control my period-“ 

“You know what?” Ashley raises a hand sharply. “I don’t fucking care. You’re on now, move.” 

Your mouth falls open, and the cold starts to creep back in. “Now? But I’m not until-“ 

“A-Train and Ezekiel are fucking missing, and Sage still hasn’t shown up after being a controlling bitch about this all week, so you’re on now.” You’re frozen in place, and Ashley looks up at you with glare. “Now! Fucking go!”

She almost moves to push you, but flinches back at the last second. Your feet start to carry you forwards, moving mechanically through the steps Ashley had drilled into you this morning. A man mics you, and you can barely feel his anxiety over the cold. It’s getting cold again, and the only thing keeping your legs steady beneath you, keeping you upright, is the way that Ben is still there. How you can feel that odd thing from him ingrained in you even when he’s gone, how it’s him. Everything about it is Ben, and it’s making a home inside of you and keeping your mind from clouding with cold. Fogged up cold. 

The man finishes his job, adjusting the mic a little further from your mouth. A woman checks your hair and makeup, and another points out all your marks and the teleprompter as Deep wraps up with large gestures and over-exaggerated laughs. The first woman smooths down your costume once and gives a thumbs up, the second shoves you forward with a clipboard, and suddenly you’re there. On the stage, walking to a red x and being blinded by stage lights that turn the crowd into murmuring shadows.

Words fall out of your mouth like vomit. You sound robotic. You feel robotic. You’re speaking and your voice isn’t yours, you’re smiling and it’s wrong on your face, and your hands are locked behind your back so your nails can tap and dig into your skin. 

“From when I was young, I’ve loved Homelander. Even when we were children, sharing secret moments in the fields behind my parent’s house, I loved him. I loved him enough to follow him to the city before he knew how I felt, before I knew he loved me. I loved him when he made his first save, and he told me how happy it made him.” Swallow the bile, read the words on the prompter. The boring, mechanical, words about love that aren’t yours. Aren’t about your love. “I loved him when he came to me with roses and told me he loved me, asked me to be his one and only. I loved him when he let me stay on the sidelines, when he was forced into PR relationships to keep me safe. I love him now, as America’s greatest hero and my savior.” Don’t break. “I love Homelander because he completes me. I see us in every great romance in history. He is the thing that gets me up in the morning. He makes me happy, and I want to start a family with him. Lead the best life we can together. I’m excited to lead a great life with Homelander, for our love story-“ 

Your words are cut off by a rush of air and shaking of the stage as Homelander lands at your side. Grinning and waving, placing a hand on your lower back as his voice echoes over the venue. 

“Oh, just pretend you can’t see me!” The crowd grows louder with applause, and he laughs. “I’m here to listen to Anomaly, same as all of you! I just have the best seat!” He pulls you off your mark, closer to the front of the stage. “She’s doing so well, isn’t she?” 

He grins at you as the crowd’s noise begins to drown out your own thoughts, and you make yourself smile back. The nerves are real, but you force the comfort onto your face. Make yourself stay on your feet. There’s no other option but staying on your feet and smiling at Homelander like his hand on your own body doesn’t fill you with dread and agony and cold. Pretend you don’t know what’s coming, that you’re going to finish and Homelander will kiss you and you’ll have to not scream or push him away. You’re sweating and the air is humid from the lingering mist of the morning, but you’re so cold. 

“Alright, let’s settle down!” Homelander dismisses the crowd with a hand, and the last few whoops and claps die off. “Keep going, honey, everyone’s listening.” 

You swallow. No way out. “I’m excited to lead a great life with Homelander, for our love story to be remembered as one from a fairytale. Because he is my prince, my white knight who saved me from the dark. Homelander, you're my soulmate, and I love you. I am deeply in love with you, and there will never be another-“ 

Something bangs in the distance, and the part of Ben that’s still in you begins to pound. Drums. Echoes of drums in your chest that fall into time with a spark of lights and another bang. Gunshots. Those are gunshots and the overhead lights are sparking.

Homelander’s hand tenses on your back. “Keep calm, folks! I’m sure it’s just a truck! I’ll go myself and make sure they get that faulty engine fixed. Please, let my lovely girlfriend finish the speech she’s been working so hard on.” He leans down to hiss in your ear, face turned from the crowd. “Keep going until I get back. Don’t stop fucking talking.” 

He’s gone, and another gunshot fires. Ben. Ben might be in danger, Homelander’s going and Ben is strong but they don’t have the V, and Sage hasn’t been seen all day. The gas- 

Ashley’s gesturing at you off to the side. Keep going. 

You have to keep going. There’s nothing you can do but try and cling to that thing in you—rumbling and bloody—that tells you Ben is still awake. Try and raise your voice over the gunshots that mean he’s still fighting. 

“There will never be another man for me. And that’s why-“ The prompter glitches and sparks out, and a flash of light clears the sky in the distance. Then there’s another gunshot, and a whoosh of air, and you have to keep going. You can still feel Ben, so you have to keep going. There are no words left for you to say, you didn’t memorize the speech and can’t remember where it went after the that’s why line. You have to find your own word. You have to just keep going. 

“That’s why I want to share what it’s like to love him.” You take a heavy breath, and hold onto that piece of Ben in you like it’s a lifeline. “Why he’s everything to me.” 

The venue lights flash again, and the phones start to spark out and fry with the cameras. You’re okay with that. This isn’t for the world to remember or see, this is for you to keep talking and find a way to keep going. 

“He’s good,” you smile into the flickering darkness. “He’s just so good. It’s hard, but he’s still good. His smile is the best one you’ll ever see, and his laugh is the only thing you’ll ever need to hear. If you could see him happy like I do, you’d never want to see anything else. And I, I get to do so many things I’ve always wanted to do with him. I get to talk to him and feel heard and to cook with him and share things I enjoy, and he touches me like I’m the only one he’s ever wanted to touch. Ever needed to touch. Ever needed. I get to feel half as wanted as I want him, and I want him. I want all of him.” You can’t stop. Your heart is breaking and gluing itself together every other second, but you can’t stop. “I want the parts you get to see and the parts that get to be mine. I want to laugh at him and with him and see him smile. See a smile that gets to be mine, and keep watching him try. Try to keep me when everything is horrible, and I want to stay with him, I want to stay with him-“ Your words are becoming choked, and you’re pleading to no one. Begging into a silent crowd of people who don’t understand and a night that doesn’t care. Keep going. “I, I want to watch him be better, never stop trying to be better, just be better and be good. Be good to me, he’s so good to me, even, even when it’s hard and I have to miss him and I-“

The whole word explodes. The drums are still rattling around your head as the night is illuminated from a cloud of fire and ash exploding across the night. You almost run to it, run to him, but people are grabbing you and pulling you off stage. You can’t fight, you're frozen, kept from shattering only by the hum of Ben still carved into you. Like an imprint, like a scar you wouldn’t want to heal if you could because it’s telling you he’s awake.

They lock you away. Someone shoves you into the trailer and you hear the door click, but you don’t bother to even try the handle. You couldn’t move if you wanted, couldn’t run if you tried. You’re cracking. Not breaking—not while that thing of Ben’s still shifts inside you and tells you he’s okay—but cracking. Growing weaker, the fire going dormant once more, because you’d let it get away from you. That speech won’t see the morning, nobody had gotten the part that was just you on footage, but people will talk. Sage will hear, Homelander will hear, and the former will know that you weren’t talking from nothing. She’ll see that hand you’d accidentally shown, that last piece she’d been looking for. The only thing that will save you is the latter believing you were speaking of him. That it’s Homelander you need and want and think is good. You’ve never laughed with Homelander, never seen him be better—only worse—and never, ever missed him, but he’ll still think you were talking about him. 

You miss Ben. You’re sobbing on the floor, cracks appearing in your mask because it’s all too much, and you just miss Ben. You’ll get through this. You can feel that echo of Ben still in your chest even as the noise outside dies down, and you know you’ll get through this, but you’ll miss Ben. More than before, which you didn’t think was possible. You’ll miss him more because he’s waiting, and you know home is closer in time but far in effort. Anything goes wrong and home goes away forever. There’s a way to kill Homelander, a way to get Ben the shot to kill Homelander, but this has to go right. You have to do this clever, however you need to, and with no hesitation, because then you can go home and Ben will be waiting. You’ll kill Homelander, and hold each other until this doesn’t feel like pain anymore. Only another shadow in the corner, another skeleton you bury and grow flowers from. 

Ben will be waiting. You’ll pull yourself up and tape every single piece of your mind together to drag yourself home to Ben, and he’ll pick you up. Ben will wait, and he’ll make this better. 

You’ll love him when you touch him again, and forever after that. You’ll love him when he makes this better and you remind him he’ll never fail you. When you get to stay and you never have to break again. Until then you’ll love him here as well. You’ll keep this piece of Ben in you, and worship in the hopes he feels it. 

You hope he feels your love. Even if he doesn’t love you, you still hope Ben gets to feel your love like you feel his strange thing inside of you. Gets to know it’s yours, for him, and feel how easy and natural it is to love him. How he didn’t fail you, could never fail you, because you love him like this. 

You love him until the night is silent. Until it’s just the dark and spreading warmth. Until your tears are dry and you can just feel you and him. You love Ben like there’s nothing else to love in the world, because there’s not. 

No love is worth this holy and infinite one that you have for Ben. No love is worth rage and desolation like this one is. No one is worth what Ben is. 

And he’ll wait for you. You’ll go back to him. You’ll find a way home. 

You’ll always find your way back to Ben.

——————

Ben couldn’t let himself think about it. Not now, not when he was still fucking clean up the mess he and the team had made. Not when the Pussy Mobile had come to a screeching, rattling halt right before Butcher could park it, and Ben was honestly surprised they’d made it the whole damn drive back. The hunk of shit probably should’ve broken down the moment Butcher had floored it and they’d torn away as Homelander dealt with their diversion. Ezekiel’s body strung up across tents—Ben having pulled him apart with hands and hatred—Annie playing haunted house with all the lights, and a bomb of the French Prick’s going off when Homelander destroyed the guns MM had rigged to keep firing. 

He couldn’t think about how’d almost fucking lost it. How they’d been driving away and Ben had been forced to shove the drums down, try to control them and keep the bomb in his chest from destroying the van and the team when the Thing was roaring at him. When the night had exploded and it had shaken the van, making Ben have to just stare and floor and try not to get lost in how much this fucking hurt. He’d done it, he’d done exactly as She’d asked. A-Train was “dead”—Homelander even the last person to see him before Frenchie’s bomb supposedly blew him to bits, which had been Hughie’s idea and didn’t end up being total fucking shit—and they knew they had to wait for V. They knew that had to wait for Her to get them some or find it somewhere else. Every selfish part of Ben wanted Her to get it, because that meant she’d have to give it them. She’d have to come home to give them the V, and this wouldn’t fucking hurt anymore. 

He’d find a way to get Her to stay this time, and this would never be painful again. He’d kill Homelander and she’d get to smile at him somewhere in Rome forever. He’d hear Her cry about normal, stupid fucking things and she’d tease him and tell him what to do, and he’d just kiss Her until this didn’t fucking hurt anymore. Because he’d done it, he’d done the job, and he’d never hated himself more. 

They were circled up in the dining hall. It was past midnight, but this was a lot more fucking important. They had A-Train, and maybe the fucker could help them. Get Her closer to coming home. Sleep didn’t matter, not when Ben had to fucking bring Her home. 

Ben’s at the head of the table. He can’t sit, can’t rest, he can’t stop fucking moving, not for a second. Not when it will be nothing but fucking pain and images of Her in his head. Fresh, like open wounds that won’t just fucking heal. 

So Ben stood, rigid at the head of the table, his fists curling and uncurling. Butcher at his side—the man’s glare almost as violent as Ben’s—as A-Train’s bouncing knee shook the table. Hughie and Annie had gone to bed with small nods—nobody had stopped them—but MM was frowning at A-Train from his seat across the table, and Kimiko and the French Prick were watching the tight silence with nervous expressions. 

“Are any of you going to talk, or just keep fucking staring at me?” 

Ben’s jaw clenched at the fucking sneer in A-Train’s voice. The fucking annoyance, as if Ben hadn’t just fucking given everything, given the whole fucking world, to save his fast, worthless, pussy ass. She’d told him to, and he had, but it should be Her at the table. In Ben’s arms. Not this fucking piece of shit She’d been so goddamn certain could help. 

He could only say half of that. A-Train needed to understand what had been lost to get him here. He had no fucking right to know more about Her. 

Ben leaned across the table, not bother to hide the fucking fury in his voice. “You’re the one who needs to start fucking talking.” 

“About what?” A-Train snapped. “I’m here, you know why I’m here, what else am I supposed to do?” 

“Make this fucking worth it!” Ben roared Her name. “Said you’d help. Fucking help!” 

“How? How am I supposed to help?” 

Butcher cut in right before Ben could rip A-Train’s head off. “Our mutual friend seemed to be bloody certain you’d have somethin for us. MM here seems to think we can trust you. And I’d fuckin wager you’ve got some real nasty shit on Homelander and Vought.” 

“Yeah, but-“ 

“Man, just listen,” MM muttered. “Those two motherfuckers get off on vengeance, and you’re not doing yourself any favors by poking at them.” 

Butcher scowled at MM, and Ben just keeps fucking pushing. She’d said A-Train could help, and she was never fucking wrong, so the pussy better start fucking helping until Ben started finding more creative ways to figure out what she’d meant. 

Don’t kill A-Train, Ben. Her voice hummed in his head. Or at least do it outside. People eat here. 

“What was she planning,” Ben grunted, trying to speak firm and steady over the pain. “She told me she was planning something. What is it.” 

“Don’t know,” A-Train at least had the brains to look a little fucking guilty. “When we talked she’d never tell me. Said she couldn’t risk it or something.” 

“Well, what did she say?” MM runs his hand over his face. “There has to be something we could use.” 

“Nothing,” A-Train’s answer is way too damn fast, and he’s giving Ben a strange fucking look. “I mean, she was trying to convince me to help, and I agreed, and now I’m here. I can’t fucking help more than that-“ 

“That ain’t fuckin true mate,” Butcher sneers. “You gotta have somethin for us. We didn’t fake your damn death just for you to come here and leech.” 

“I’ve got some stuff on Vought, but you can’t really think they were telling me everything? I mean, Sage didn’t trust me as far as she could thrown me, and she’s not that strong-“ 

“There has to be fucking something!” Ben hissed Her name, leaning down to hold A-Train’s gaze. “She had to have said fucking something, anything, that could get her-“ 

“She wouldn’t share her plan with me!” A-Train was still fucking looking at Ben like that. Like he’d fucking dropped from the sky and was speaking goddamn gibberish. “Like I said, she didn’t tell me anything! I asked, and she said no. She didn’t even fucking tell you!” A-Train gestured at Ben with an exasperated movement. “Why do you think she’d tell me!” 

“A-Train,” MM sighed. “What do you know? That shit about Vought, about Homelander and Sage, about anything.” 

“I mean I fucking know all their old V stashes. I know about security. I know Sage, kind of. How she thinks. I know Ashley, and she’s real close to snapping or losing it or something.” 

“That’s good,” MM glanced up at Butcher. “We can get Mallory here tomorrow. Get all his shit down.” 

“Mate, we can’t be fuckin sure he’s even gonna tell us the truth-“ 

“I will.” A-Train frowned at Butcher. “I’m not here for Vought, fuck those guys. I’m here because I’m trying to be better. Because she,” A-Train shot Ben another strange look as he said Her name for clarification. “She said I could help. I’m not going to lie, there’s too much on the fucking line to lie.” 

“Well,” Butcher snapped. “We might need a little bloody more than Vought security protocols and a fuckin Sage profile. That’s all shit we can get our fuckin selves-“

“I can get you their passwords.” A-Train said, words abrupt and tight. “Hughie’s into all that computer stuff, right? I can write down everything I remember about Vought, about all their passwords, and go over what Sage has told me. I can tell you weaknesses, about Homelander and milk, and the Deep and fish-“ 

“How the fuck will that help-“ 

A-Train cut Ben off with Her name, and everything fucking hurt again. “She thought I could help. This is all I can do, man. She knew that, and she thought it was worth it.” 

“Stop fucking talking about her like that.” Ben hissed. “You don’t know her. You don’t know what she thinks, not about this or any other damn thing.” 

“She told me I could help you. So I’m here.” A-Train didn’t flinch away from Ben’s glare. “Don’t blame me for her idea.” 

Ben was going to kill him. He was going to fucking rip his spine out of his back and break both his knees. The pussy didn’t have any fucking right to pretend to know Her, what she wanted. Ben trusted Her with his goddamn life, and he fucking trusted she knew what she was doing because there was no other option. No world where she never came back to him. She had to fucking come back, come home, but there wasn’t a single fucking way passwords and milk was going to help fucking help them. Help Her. 

Butcher placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder, and he flinched. “The fuck-“ 

“In and out, Gov.” Butcher muttered. “It ain’t gonna help shit to kill A-Train, even if he deserves it.” 

“Shut the fuck up, you pussy-“ 

“Trust me, I want to kill him just as much as you do. But he’s got somethin for us that ain’t totally fuckin useless.” Butcher nodded to MM. “We’ll get Mallory here at the crack of fuckin dawn. We got some work to do.” 

MM nodded, leaning down the table to the French Prick and Kimiko. “Can you two show A-Train a room? Doesn’t fucking matter which one, just get him in a bed.” 

A-Train gave Ben one last weird fucking look before he was led out of the room, leaving Ben with Butcher, MM, and the hum of a fan somewhere. 

Butcher sighed, dropping his hand from Ben’s shoulder back into his pockets. “MM, you better be bloody right about him-“ 

“I am,” MM muttered. “He’s here. He’s not going to fucking leave now, not with his family out there. And we can use his info, get the Kid on a laptop and into their servers. Get an idea of what Sage is doing. But we still need V-“ 

Butcher said Her name, and it ached in Ben’s ears. “Said she’d get us some. Right, Gov?” 

Ben grunted with a nod, and Butcher frowned. 

“She good?” 

Ben shot Butcher a glare. “The fuck is it to you.” 

Butcher shrugged. “She’s doin a lot of shit. Want to make sure she ain’t gonna burn out on us.” 

“She fucking won’t.” Ben snapped. She couldn’t. She’d promised she’d come home. “She’ll be fine.” 

She’ll be fine. Ben had left Her but she was going to be fine. 

You didn’t leave me, Ben. 

Butcher was speaking before Ben could respond to Her voice. “You didn’t fuckin pick her up and carry her back?”

“Fucking obviously.” 

Butcher narrowed his eyes. “After all your fuckin peacocking-“ 

“She told me to trust her,” Ben muttered. “And she’d have fucking kicked my ass if I tried to take her.” Ben shot Butcher a cold look. “I’m not in the business of making my woman do shit she doesn’t goddamn want to.” 

He’d said the words before he could think about them. My woman. She was his. He was supposed to hold her and protect her and care for her and help her and- 

Everything was fucking painful. 

Butcher grunted, nodding. “She’ll get through this, Mate. She’s a clever fuckin lady, she knows what she’s doing.” 

Ben didn’t respond. He already fucking knew that, he knew everything about her. She was fucking perfect and a goddamn threat to Ben’s sanity. 

He didn’t even notice Butcher was gone until MM coughed, and Ben realized it was just them left in the dining hall. 

“What.” 

“You were gone with her for a while,” MM said, watching Ben with a blank, unreadable face. “The fuck were you doing that whole time.” 

“None of your fucking business.” 

“It is if she’s-“ 

“It’s fucking not.” Ben glared at MM with all the fucking pain in his body. “It’s ours. Nobody else's.”

MM hummed, holding Ben’s glower. “Ours.”

“You’ve got a fucking problem with that? You hate me so fucking much you don’t trust me with her? When I’m the only fucking one who’s been fighting for her, doing whatever it fucking takes while you pussies-“ 

“I don’t trust you with her, motherfucker.” MM sneered. “She’s a good woman, and she’s too good for you. She doesn’t need you to fight for her-“ 

“Shut the fuck up.” Ben couldn’t fucking deal with this. Not when everything hurt and he could still see Her when he closed his eyes. “You can hate me for the rest of goddamn time, and tell me I’m evil or say I get off on vengeance, or whatever else makes you sleep at night, but never say shit about what you think she deserves, or needs.” 

“What, you think you speak for her?” MM scoffed. “You think she needs you?” 

Something stabbed deep into the Thing, and Ben had to speak through gritted teeth. “She doesn’t fucking need anyone. She wants me.” His head hurt. Something was pulling at his throat and clouding his eyes and a halo of pain was wrapping around his head. Stinging his tongue when he said Her name. “Doesn’t need you telling her what she wants. Or if I’m fucking good for her. She’s capable of making her own fucking choices.” 

Look at you, defending my honor. My right to choose. Keep this up and you’ll be giving lectures at Feminist panels. 

The pain was becoming blinding. 

“You’re a fucking murderer, Soldier Boy.” MM stood from the table, leering at Ben. “Nothing’s going to change that, change the shit you’ve done.” 

Ben’s jaw was going to break. “I know what I was.” He grunted, a lot of his anger leaking out and being replaced by just this inescapable agony. “You don’t need to fucking tell me. But I’d fucking do it again,” Ben gave MM a cold look. “I’d kill a thousand fucking people and be trapped in Russia for a million goddamn years if it brought her home.” 

“And what about those people's families?” MM hissed. “Their kids, like me?” 

“I’d fucking repent.” Ben sighed. He was so fucking tired. “I’d do it and add another hundred years to my sentence for every single body.” Anything. Anything to bring Her home. 

“What about me,” MM was still frowning, but there was something tragic in his voice. Something Ben couldn’t call weak, because he felt it too, felt it in his pain. “What about what you fucking did to me.” 

Ben said the only thing he could think of. The only thing that he could fucking mean and understand at the same time. “Whatever I fucking need to for you just fucking let her be happy.” 

“With you?”

“With me.” Ben felt something hard in his throat. “Or wherever else she wants. Just goddamn happy.” 

MM sighed, and Ben wished he would just fucking leave. Let Ben deal with this fucking pain alone. “She’ll fucking want it with you.”

Ben blinked at MM, something close to shock sparking through his chest. “What.” 

“She’ll be happy with you. When she gets back. I can’t fucking explain it, I defiantly don’t damn understand it, but she’s real happy with you.” MM shook his head. “She sees something in you I can’t understand, don’t even know where she’s finding it, but she’s smarter than most of us. Smarter than me and Butcher, defiantly fucking smart than you. I can’t explain why, shit’s fucking baffling why, but she’ll be happy with you. Just,” MM gave Ben one last look. It wasn’t cold, wasn’t hateful. Just tired. “Try to earn it.” 

It was like MM had fucking shot him. Shot Ben in the fucking chest and left him to bleed out. He stood in the dining hall, alone and in pain long after MM left, and only managed to move when the fan stuttered off and he couldn’t stand the silence. 

He hadn’t earned Her. Ben could never fucking earn her. He’d held her and lost her, fucking again. He’d spent the whole fucking Christ Convenetion feeling the way the Thing was alight, burning and raging inside of him, trying to pull him around and falling into a beat that was so familiar but Ben still didn’t recognize, or know how to decipher. It had been trying to tell him something, it was always trying to tell him something, but it had been fucking feral. Roaring and howling in a language Ben didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. He’d come closer to geting, when he’d seen her. Touched Her. 

Real. 

Back in his arms and fucking real. Making the Thing start to break bones in his body and turn Ben into just a fucking soldier that could bring Her home. Make her smile while she was against him forever, make those feelings of sheer fucking pleasure and ease run between them when he touched her, tasted her, and just had her. 

He’d fucking had Her. She’d been real, with Ben, and he’d lost her. 

You didn’t lose me, Benjamin. I’ll come home. 

He didn’t fucking care. It was all goddamn semantics, because Ben had failed, again, to be worthy of her. He’d listened to her and done as he’d been told, and still managed to fail Her. She wasn’t home. Ben couldn’t breathe because she wasn’t home. He’d failed to bring Her home, failed to convince her she’d done enough. That everything was worse because she wasn’t at Ben’s side, that everything hurt because he’d fucking failed. She didn’t know what she meant to him. If She knew what she meant to Ben she’d have come home. If he could break the Thing’s stupid fucking code and tell her that vital thing, she’d have understood and come home. 

The Thing pulsed, and Ben knew he was wrong. Collapsing on the couch, he knew he was wrong and she wouldn’t have left. He could’ve offered Her the sun and stars and every fucking song in the world and she’d have still told him she had to see this through.

Why couldn’t he have chosen to feel like this about a woman who would just go? Leave? Just fuck the world and come home for Ben. 

Because that wouldn’t have been Her. The Thing ran into Ben’s head, but it wasn’t speaking. It was pushing against the painful haze, and Ben was finding the words on his own. She’d never give up on the world. She’s too good to give up on the world. And it always has to be Her. Nothing is capable of making you feel this pain like She is.

That might be the worst fucking part of this. Was that, somewhere in this pain of Ben having lost Her. He’d left her and lost her and she still doesn’t understand that Ben can’t breathe without Her there, there was something good. She’d trusted him, to do what she needed him to do. She’d cried against him and known he’d pick her up and make it better. She’d touched him and still meant it, still wanted him even after he’d failed Her. 

She still wanted him. She still wanted Ben. She’d smiled at him and laughed with him and known him like nobody ever had. Like nobody ever would, not like she did. Not like she’d pulled Ben into her and tried to tell him everything he’d needed to hear. Found every way to feed the Thing with soft words and pretty looks, and all at once, grow this pain. She was perfect, and she still wanted Ben, and he’d never fucking earn her. 

That’s what breaks the pain. Snaps it open in two, and Ben with it. She wanted him. She was perfect and she wanted him and Ben hadn’t even told Her how much he missed Her. How he wasn’t sleeping and eating was an act of labor without Her there to throw crumpled napkins at his face and hang around his body while he did the dishes. How she was gone and nothing was good. 

He hadn’t told Her. And she still wanted him. And Ben breaks. 

It starts in his chest. Shaking something there and pushing that lump further up into his mouth. The pain tightens around his throat and brow, his eyes feel fucking weird, and the first sound echoes through the dark, empty apartment. Choked. Tired. All fucking pain and hurt. 

The damn breaks, and Ben’s too goddamn exhausted to fight it. He roars into the darkness, even though he knows nobody can hear. Maybe she will. Across the city and bay, she’ll hear how much Ben fucking misses Her. How nothing is as important as Her. Home. Safe. With Ben and happy. 

When he roars again, it’s strangled and he tastes salt. His eyes hurt, and it’s so fucking hard breathe. There are no drums, no violence in him. Just a fucking ache for Her, and he can’t do anything about it but try and pull it out of his brain. Run his hand over his face and through his hair and pull it back to find it wet.

He’s crying. He’s fucking crying. 

Ben hadn’t fucking cried since he was a child. It had been a hundred fucking years since Ben had cried like a pussy. Weak, pathetic, and useless. 

This didn’t feel useless. For reasons Ben couldn’t fucking understand, the bellows of pain escaping his body and the endless fucking pain finding its way out of his body didn’t feel useless. It felt good. It felt like a tribute, like he was leaving an offering for Her in this loneliness. This was agony and the worst fucking thing in the world and Ben had to fucking break to prove it. She couldn’t break, she wouldn’t allow herself to, so Ben would do it for Her. He’d shatter on the floor of their apartment and cling to any thought of Her as it made this pain grow. It was a lot fucking better than forgetting. 

Nothing would hurt more than forgetting Her. Forgetting her laugh and smile and the way she felt. Forgetting her beautiful face and smart fucking mouth, forgetting the way she spoke and looked at Ben. Like She somehow did think he was worthy. 

So Ben just cried. He knew she’d come home but he still just fucking sobbed on the couch. Alone. Missing Her, and wanting her, and waiting for her. 

He’d fucking wait for Her. He’d cry for Her and be haunted by her until She was home. 

He’d always wait. She’d always come home, so Ben would always fucking wait. 

The Thing would keep him company, twisting and screaming in time with Ben’s tears and choked noises of pain. Remind him of every part of Her. Every part he’d lost. Every part that would come back. 

Ben cried until the sun cracked the sky. 

He’d wait for Her until it burned out the universe.

End Note:  End of chapter check in! How we feeling, squad? We getting through this?

Also, if you haven't yet, check out the first one-shot from the reader event! I'm moving through the rest, and I think I'll upload them between chapters to keep you guys fed. No matter what, thank you so much for reading, and I'll see you soon!

If you like this story, reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Taglist

@lordofthunderthr @kritara @sukunassfinger, @justiceforquentin @acciditties

@c1gs-coffee @manicjk @artemys-ackles, @a-cup-of-nightshade, @bitchykittenconnoisseur

@fghj18 @n-o-p-e-never @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @marisha-3 @stvrniolo

@deansbbyx @s0urw00lf @ciuguapa @ilyaasansaif @whimsicalcherry

@sadpods @ahoytothestorm @silverwingxox @criminalyetminimal

[technologycompanynews]

The slow, wet, meandering destruction of Tropical Storm Debby - Journal Today Internet - BLOGGER https://www.merchant-business.com/the-slow-wet-meandering-destruction-of-tropical-storm-debby/?feed_id=159595&_unique_id=66b57e03e702a Tropical Storm Debby, a plodding, waterlogged system that has already saturated four southeastern states, bears many characteristics of a warming planet, climate scientists say. It’s reminiscent of other catastrophic tropical cyclones that have battered the United States over the past eight years.On Wednesday afternoon, the storm was drifting at 5 mph near the South Carolina coast, about the pace of a monarch butterfly. It is expected to pick up speed today as it heads through North Carolina, where a foot or more of rain could fall in the southeastern part of the state and 6 to 8 inches are anticipated in the central Piedmont.North Carolina Gov. Roy Cooper declared a state of emergency this week, warning residents on Wednesday to “be prepared for a deluge.”A warmer atmosphere holds more water; likewise, warmer temperatures accelerate evaporation. “There’s a lot of water in this system that’s just ready to come out,” North Carolina’s state climatologist, Kathie Dello, said. “We’re pulling more of that moisture into the air and essentially supercharging the atmosphere. Or, as I like to say, get a cup of coffee and pour in a few shots of espresso.”Tropical Storm Debby has arrived in what is on track to be one of the top 10 warmest years on record in North Carolina. As recently as late June, 99 of the state’s 100 counties were experiencing drought conditions ranging from abnormally dry to severe, according to the State Climate Office.That pattern reversed in July, when several cities reported their wettest July on record.“Swings between wet and dry are something that we’re expecting with climate change,” Dello said. “The extremes become more extreme.”Tropical Storm Debby is reminiscent of two historic hurricanes that hit North Carolina — Matthew in 2016 and Florence in 2018. Although both were Category 1 storms by the time they landed in the US, they caused disproportionate damage because they stalled over land and dumped historic amounts of rain — as much as 3 feet — in eastern North Carolina. Thousands of people were left homeless and damages totaled in the billions of dollars.Tropical storms and hurricanes are producing heavier rain over the US, an indicator of climate change, according to a study published last month in the Journal of Climate, a publication of the American Meteorological Society.John Uehling co-authored the paper with Carl Schreck III, both of whom are scientists at the North Carolina Institute for Climate Studies.Uehling told Inside Climate News that Tropical Storm Debby is “a classic case of what we’ve seen a lot in recent years,” including with Hurricanes Harvey and Florence, “where we have a stalling storm near the coastline that basically dumps rain over the same areas for an extended and prolonged period of time.”Using historical rainfall gauge data, Uehling and Schreck found that instances of heavy rain associated with tropical cyclones are becoming more frequent and extreme. Major hurricanes — those in categories 3 through 5 — show the largest increases in extreme rainfall.“The real impact that we’re seeing is where the worst events are getting significantly worse,” Uehling said, whereas, in general, “your more run-of-the-mill events are not increasing at nearly the same rate.”The study’s findings could help local governments, planners, and residents prepare for these weather disasters to occur more frequently, Uehling said.That includes inland areas in particular, where the study found the highest increases in rainfall: Alabama and Mississippi through southern Appalachia, including the mountains of North Carolina. Flooding in higher elevations presents different threats — including mudslides and more challenging evacuations — than coastal areas.“Places that have not been used

to dealing with these kinds of threats are going to have to start dealing with them more often,” Uehling said.“It’s important that people keep in mind that our climate is changing, that these sort of events are occurring with more and more frequency, and that the impacts seem to be getting greater,” he said. “We have a duty as a society not only to mitigate against these changes, but to do what we can to prevent them from getting worse.”Debby made landfall Monday morning near Steinhatchee, Florida, in the state’s sparsely populated Big Bend region, so named for the way the peninsula meets the panhandle. The Category 1 storm forged a path similar to that of last year’s Idalia, a Category 3 hurricane that was the strongest to strike this part of the state since 1896.Hundreds of thousands of Floridians lost power and Gov. Ron DeSantis declared a state of emergency in 61 of the state’s 67 counties. More than 9,400 feet of what his administration characterized as flood protection devices were deployed at critical infrastructure sites such as schools, health care facilities, and roads and bridges. For the first time flood control barriers also were positioned around utility substations, to try to prevent more power outages, his administration said.Florida officials feared more flooding later in the week, as water continued to flow south from the rain-soaked states of Georgia and the Carolinas. By Wednesday, the Florida Division of Emergency Management had pumped more than 104 million gallons of floodwater from communities across the state, the DeSantis administration said.“This could take anywhere from three to seven days,” said Kevin Guthrie, executive director of the Florida Division of Emergency Management, of the duration of the flooding in the state. “This is going to be about a weeklong event that we’re going to be monitoring.”Some of the worst flooding occurred about 200 miles from the Big Bend region in Sarasota, a beachy community south of Tampa. As much as 12 to 18 inches of rain pummeled the community as Debby’s outer bands swirled some 80 miles offshore. The totals constituted some of the highest rainfall amounts in the state, said Tony Hurt, a meteorologist at the National Weather Service in Ruskin, south of Tampa. Florida typically receives roughly 50 inches of rain annually.At least 500 Sarasota residents were rescued from flooded houses, according to the police department. To the north, in neighboring Manatee County, 186 residents were rescued, the local government said. Officials characterized the rainfall as record-breaking.“Any kind of event like this you just try to be as prepared and stay as flexible as you can,” said Terry Chapman, minister at the South Trail Church of Christ in Sarasota. “We are thankful that it was not worse.”Some of the church’s parishioners had friends and family members who were affected by the flooding, and the congregation was considering the best ways to offer help. One area that was especially hard-hit was east of Interstate 75, well away from the Gulf Coast.“Those are newer houses,” Chapman said. “Those are houses that were built within the last 20 years.”Warm sea surface temperatures in the Gulf of Mexico powered a rapid intensification of Debby, a phenomenon that is becoming more common because of climate change. The warming climate also is leading to more water evaporation, producing more water vapor that can feed heavy downpours like those experienced with Debby, said James Marshall Shepherd, director of the Atmospheric Sciences Program at the University of Georgia.“For Floridians, the intensity of the rainfall falling from the afternoon storms and hurricanes has likely increased,” he said. “The pump is primed, if you will. I like to say these hurricanes probably are a little juicier because of the additional water vapor capacity.”The atmosphere today holds about 10 percent more moisture, said Brian Soden, professor of atmospheric sciences at the Rosenstiel School of Marine, Atmospheric, and Earth Science at the University of Miami.

“It just compounds the problems you get from hurricanes,” he said. “You have not just the wind but more intense rain events. You have storm surge and higher sea levels, and gradually the sea levels rise higher. That means it takes longer for the rainfall to run off into the ocean in coastal regions, and that further compounds the flooding problems you experience.”Debby was the second hurricane to menace the US this year, after Beryl offered an explosive start to the season as the earliest Category 5 hurricane recorded in the Atlantic Ocean, according to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA). Beryl lost strength before making landfall on July 8 as a Category 1 storm near Matagorda, Texas, between Corpus Christi and Galveston. The hurricane season begins June 1 and peaks in August and September before ending November 30.NOAA had predicted an extraordinarily active season with 17 to 25 named storms, the greatest number the federal agency had projected since the forecasts began in 1998. The agency expected eight to 13 hurricanes and four to seven major hurricanes of category 3, 4, or 5 strength, packing winds of 111 miles an hour or more.NOAA based its unprecedented forecast on a confluence of factors, most notably unusually warm sea surface temperatures, which the agency said could power more storms. The forecasters also cited an anticipated quick transition to La Niña conditions, leading to a decrease in wind shear or atmospheric choppiness that can weaken or break apart storms. The average season features 14 named storms, including seven hurricanes and three major hurricanes.“This story was originally published by Inside Climate News and is reproduced here as part of the Climate Desk collaboration. Tropical Storm Debby, a plodding, waterlogged system that has already…”Source Link: https://www.vox.com/climate/366041/climate-hurricane-debby-drenches-the-southeast http://109.70.148.72/~merchant29/6network/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/pexels-photo-4874232.jpeg BLOGGER - #GLOBAL Tropical Storm Debby, a plodding, waterlogged system that has already saturated four southeastern states, bears many characteristics of a warming planet, climate scientists say. It’s reminiscent of other catastrophic tropical cyclones that have battered the United States over the past eight years. On Wednesday afternoon, the storm was drifting at 5 mph near the South … Read More

[vasco-portable-translators]

Best Places to Visit in The World for Each Month of the Year

Have you ever packed your bags, buzzing with excitement, only to realize that your dream destination is currently experiencing its monsoon or hurricane season? Or worse, a season of tourist-packed streets where you can't even see the attraction you came for? Have you experienced something like that during past few years? Well, fear not, fellow wanderlusters! This guide is your passport to avoiding those travel mishaps, ensuring you know the best places in the world to visit at the perfect time. And let's not dwell on the obvious choices either! We all know Eiffel Tower, Grand Canyon and Banff National Park are great. You could also spend your holidays on private island, taking boat tours, but it's not also why we're here, right? Don't worry, you're at the right place! Buckle up (or should I say, fasten your seatbelts), and let's dive into the world of strategic travel planning where timing is everything. We're about to go through best places to travel by month! In this article, you'll learn what are the best - countries to visit in January - countries to visit in March - countries to visit in February - countries to visit in April - countries to visit in May - countries to visit in June - countries to visit in July - countries to visit in August - countries to visit in September - countries to visit in October - countries to visit in November - countries to visit in December FAQ: What is the best place to visit in January? The best places to visit in January are India & United Arab Emirates, specifically Dubai. Both India & Dubai can help escape the winter blues as both locations offer beautiful weather and pleasant temperatures. What is the best place to visit in February? The best place to visit in February is Japan, which offers an unforgettable winter experience. You can visit Sapporo Snow Festival, Hakuba, which is a paradise for sport enthusiasts, and Jigokudani Monkey Park featuring famous snow monkeys. What is the best place to visit in March? The best place to visit in March is Spain, which welcomes spring in its vibrant colors. You can visit, for example, Barcelona, Andalusia, and Valencia for Las Fallas to experience the celebration of this special festival commemorating Saint Joseph. What is the best place to visit in April? The best place to visit in April is the Netherlands, showing a riot of colors, with tulips and other spring flowers blooming across the rural areas. You can visit Keukenhof Gardens, the largest flower garden in the world, as well as taking a hike through Amsterdam. What is the best place to visit in May? The best place to visit in May is Italy. During that time, the country shakes off the last chill of winter and embraces the warmth and vitality of the approaching summer. What is the best place to visit in June? The best place to visit in June is Iceland. June's the time of almost endless sunlight, which creates a prolonged phenomenon called the Midnight Sun. What is the best place to visit in July? The best place to visit in July is Kenya. In this picturesque location, you can enjoy probably the best national parks in the world. Visit Maasai Mara, Amboseli, and Lake Nakuru National Parks and marvel at beautiful views and wildlife. What is the best place to visit in August? The best place to visit in August is Peru. This month offers perfect conditions for trekking through the Inca Trail as well as discovering the ancient city of Machu Picchu as the dry season provides clear skies and the best visibility. What is the best place to visit in September? The best place to visit in September is Greece. This month offers lesser crowds as well as a perfect mix of warm temperatures with the vibe of approaching off season. What is the best place to visit in October? The best place to visit in October is Thailand. As the rainy season is coming to an end, the temperatures are usually cooler. October also commences many cultural celebrations, offering travelers a deep dive into the heart and soul of Thailand. What is the best place to visit in November? The best place to visit in November is Australia. It's the beginning of spring there, so the temperatures are warm and the landscape is bursting with natural beauty. What is the best place to visit in December? The best place to visit in December is Egypt. This month, the temperatures are way cooler, so visiting Egypt's ancient wonders is way more pleasurable. January: India & United Arab Emirates India: A Festive Start to the Year Why is January the best time to visit India, you ask? Imagine escaping the winter blues to find yourself in a vibrant, colorful festival in the Rajasthan desert or basking in the pleasant sun on pristine beaches near Indian Ocean. India is considered one of the best places in the world to visit for a reason. After cold Winter months it's like a sip of coffee in the morning—absolutely perfect! It's not just one of the best places to visit in January; it's a kaleidoscope of experiences. From the majestic Republic Day Parade in Delhi to the serene backwaters of Kerala, India offers a stunning start to your year. Dubai: A Shopper's Paradise in the Desert Dubai is undoubtedly one of the best places in the world to visit. Especially in January, it is the epitome of opulence, minus the scorching heat. It's the season of the Dubai Shopping Festival, where you can shop till you drop and still want more. The city transforms into a live Pinterest board of futuristic architecture, luxurious shopping experiences, and cultural hotspots. It's a blend of the traditional and the modern, making it one of the best places to visit in the world in January. February: Embracing Japan's Winter Wonderland Japan is widely acclaimed as one of the best places to visit in the world. Whether you're drawn to the serene beauty of snow-laden landscapes or the warmth of traditional onsens, in February, Japan offers an unforgettable winter escape. Best Places to Visit in February in Japan: - Sapporo Snow Festival: One of the world's most renowned winter festivals, transforming the city into a wonderland of ice and snow sculptures. Witness the creativity and artistry that define this enchanting event. - Hakuba: A paradise for winter sports enthusiasts, Hakuba is one of Japan's premier ski destinations, offering world-class slopes and powdery snow. - Jigokudani Monkey Park: Watch the famous snow monkeys as they soak in natural hot springs, an iconic image of Japan's unique wildlife interactions. Additional Tips: - Embrace the Japanese tradition of enjoying an onsen, especially appealing during the cold months. Onsens are scattered throughout the country, offering a relaxing retreat. - It's no secret Japan's one of the best places to visit in the world for its cusine. Indulge in winter delicacies such as hot ramen, nabe (hot pot), and seasonal seafood, which are staples of Japanese cuisine to warm you up from the inside. March: A Burst of Spring in Spain Going through best places to travel by month, we can't omit Spain! March in Spain is a vibrant celebration of spring's arrival, marked by festivals, blooming landscapes, and the awakening of the country's spirited culture. Best Places to Visit in March in Spain: - Valencia for Las Fallas: Experience the spectacle of Las Fallas, where the city is alight with fireworks, parades, and the burning of ninots (large puppet figures) in a unique cultural festival. - Andalusia: Visit the south to witness the blooming orange groves, explore majestic Moorish architecture in Seville, Granada, and Córdoba, and enjoy the early hints of spring. - Barcelona: Explore the architectural wonders of Antoni Gaudí, including the Sagrada Familia and Central Park Güell, with milder weather and fewer crowds. Additional Tips: - Participate in traditional spring festivals, offering a glimpse into Spain's rich cultural tapestry. - Savor seasonal dishes such as calçots (grilled spring onions) in Catalonia, and enjoy the start of the outdoor dining season across the country. April: Tulips in Bloom at The Netherlands' Colorful Canvas April in the Netherlands is a riot of color, with tulips and other spring flowers blooming across the countryside. This small yet vibrant country comes alive with the promise of new beginnings, making it the ideal time to explore both its natural beauty and bustling cities. Best Places to Visit in April: - Keukenhof Gardens: Often referred to as the Garden of Europe, Keukenhof is one of the world's largest flower gardens, where millions of tulips display their dazzling colors. - Amsterdam: Take a canal tour to see the city from its iconic waterways, visit the Anne Frank House, and enjoy the lively atmosphere of Amsterdam as it embraces spring. - The Flower Strip (Bollenstreek): This region between Haarlem and Leiden is the heart of tulip country. Rent a bike and cycle through fields ablaze with color. Additional Tips: - Participate in the celebration of King's Day (Koningsdag) on April 27th, when the entire country dons orange attire, and streets fill with parties, flea markets, and joyous celebrations. - Taste the season with a traditional Dutch herring or indulge in a stroopwafel from a street vendor for a sweet treat. May: Italy's Prelude to Summer May is a magical time to visit Italy, as the country shakes off the last chill of winter and embraces the warmth and vitality of the approaching summer. With comfortable temperatures, blooming landscapes, and a calendar rich with cultural events, Italy in May is a traveler's delight. Best Places to Visit in May: - Florence: Explore the cradle of the Renaissance, with visits to, for instance, the Galleria dell'Accademia to see Michelangelo’s David. Enjoy the Tuscan countryside in full bloom on a day trip to the Chianti region. - Rome: Walk through history at the Colosseum, Roman Forum, and Vatican City and enjoy art galleries. May's mild weather is perfect for exploring Rome's outdoor ruins and enjoying its many piazzas. - Cinque Terre: Enjoy scenic hiking trails connecting the five picturesque villages of Cinque Terre along the Ligurian coast, where the Mediterranean spring offers breathtaking views. These are one of the most famous nature trails in Europe! Additional Insights: - Engage with Italy's vibrant food culture by visiting local markets, such as Campo de' Fiori in Rome or Rialto in Venice, to sample fresh, seasonal produce. - Attend a traditional spring festival, like the Infiorata, where streets are carpeted with flowers in intricate designs, celebrated in various towns across Italy. June: Midnight Sun and Nature's Majesty of Iceland Our list of best places to travel by month wouldn't be complete without Iceland. And so it happens, June's a time of endless daylight, where the sun merely dips below the horizon before rising again, creating a prolonged twilight known as the Midnight Sun. This natural phenomenon allows for extended days of exploration, making it one of the best places to visit in the world for adventurers and nature lovers alike. Though note, it's not the best time to experience northern lights! Best Places to Visit in June in Iceland: - Golden Circle: A popular route that covers Þingvellir National Park, the geothermal area of Geysir, and the majestic Gullfoss waterfall. The extended daylight hours allow for a leisurely exploration of these natural wonders. - Reykjavík: Experience the vibrant culture of Iceland's capital under the Midnight Sun. Enjoy outdoor cafes, music festivals, and art exhibitions that take advantage of the endless days. - Jökulsárlón Glacier Lagoon: Venture to the southeast to witness the ethereal beauty of icebergs floating in the glacier lagoon, an unforgettable sight under the late-night sun. Extra Insights: - Participate in the Secret Solstice Festival, an outdoor music festival in Reykjavík that celebrates the Midnight Sun with world-class music acts and unique side events in glaciers and lava tunnels. - Try traditional Icelandic cuisine, such as freshly caught seafood, lamb dishes, and skyr, a type of Icelandic yogurt, to fully immerse yourself in the local culture. July: A Wildlife Spectacle in Kenya July marks the beginning of the Great Migration in Kenya, an awe-inspiring natural phenomenon where millions of wildebeest, zebra, and gazelle traverse the Serengeti-Mara ecosystem in search of fresh grazing grounds. It's a prime time for wildlife enthusiasts and photographers to enjoy the best National Parks in the world. Best Places to Visit in July in Kenya: - Maasai Mara National Reserve: The centerpiece of the Great Migration, the Maasai Mara offers unparalleled wildlife viewing opportunities, including the dramatic river crossings that are synonymous with this event. - Amboseli National Park: Famous for its large elephant herds and stunning views of Mount Kilimanjaro, Amboseli provides a different but equally rewarding wildlife experience. - Lake Nakuru National Park: Known for its flamingo populations and rich biodiversity, Lake Nakuru is a great addition to a wildlife safari itinerary. Extra Tips: - Engage with the Maasai people, known for their distinctive customs and dress. Many safari tours offer cultural visits to Maasai villages, providing insights into their traditional way of life. - Try local Kenyan dishes such as nyama choma (grilled meat), ugali (maize porridge), and sukuma wiki (collard greens), which are the staples of the Kenyan diet. August: A Path Through Time in Peru August in Peru offers the perfect conditions for trekking the Inca Trail, leading adventurers to the ancient city of Machu Picchu. This time of year, the dry season provides clear skies and the best visibility, making it an ideal period for exploring Peru's stunning landscapes and archaeological treasures. Best Places to Visit in August: - Machu Picchu: The iconic Incan citadel set high in the Andes Mountains. Trekking the Inca Trail offers a rewarding journey through cloud forests and past ancient ruins before reaching this wonder of the world at sunrise. - Cusco: Once the capital of the Inca Empire, Cusco is now a hub for visitors heading to Machu Picchu. Its blend of Incan and colonial architecture, vibrant markets, and rich cultural heritage make it a must-visit. - Lake Titicaca: The highest navigable lake in the world and home to the unique Uros floating islands. Explore traditional communities and breathtaking landscapes. Extra Cultural Insights: - Participate in the Pachamama ceremony, an ancient Andean tradition in which locals offer thanks to Mother Earth. This ritual is particularly meaningful in August, considered the month of Pachamama. - Taste Peru's culinary delights, such as ceviche, lomo saltado, and cuy (guinea pig), a traditional Andean dish. Peru's rich culinary scene is a testament to its diverse cultures and ingredients. September: A September Sojourn in Greece September in Greece offers the perfect balance between the warmth of summer and the tranquility of the approaching off-season. The islands and mainland alike bask in pleasant temperatures, fewer crowds, and the golden hues of early autumn, making it an idyllic time for exploration and relaxation. Best Places to Visit in September: - Santorini: Known for its stunning sunsets and famous landmarks: white-washed buildings, and volcanic beaches. The island's beauty is more accessible in September, with more space to enjoy its charm. - Crete: Greece's largest island boasts a mix of beautiful beaches, ancient archaeological sites, and mountainous landscapes. Visit the Palace of Knossos and hike the Samaria Gorge. - Rhodes: Known for its rich history, Rhodes offers a journey through time with its well-preserved medieval town, ancient ruins, and the Acropolis of Lindos with its breathtaking views. Additonal Cultural Insights: - Enjoy the grape harvest and wine festivals that take place in various regions, celebrating Greece's rich winemaking tradition. - Sample seasonal Greek cuisine, including fresh figs, grapes, and the catch of the day, perfectly paired with local wines or ouzo. October: A Cultural Mosaic of Thailand October marks the end of the rainy season in Thailand, ushering in cooler temperatures and the beginning of the peak travel season. It's a time of cultural celebrations, natural beauty, and culinary delights, offering travelers a deep dive into the heart and soul of Thai culture. Best Places to Visit in October in Thailand: - Bangkok: The capital city is a bustling metropolis with a juxtaposition of modernity and tradition. Visit the Grand Palace, Wat Pho, and experience the vibrant street food scene. - Chiang Mai: Known for its beautiful temples, lush countryside, and the Yi Peng Lantern Festival, which typically occurs in November but preparations and smaller celebrations start in October. - Phuket: The Vegetarian Festival in Phuket is a unique cultural event featuring street processions, ceremonies, and vegetarian feasts, rooted in the island's Chinese heritage. Extra tips to make it one of the best places in the world to visit: - Participate in the Vegetarian Festival in Phuket, experiencing its spiritual ceremonies, which include rituals and acts of devotion by participants. - Indulge in Thailand's renowned street food, where October's cooler evenings make for a perfect outdoor dining experience. Try dishes like pad Thai, som tam (papaya salad), and mango sticky rice. Best countries to visit in November: Cuba November in Cuba is a window into the island's soul, where the warmth of its climate is matched only by the warmth of its people. This month offers a vibrant cultural tapestry, from music festivals to the beginning of the dry season, making it an ideal time for exploration and connection. Best Places to Visit in November in Cuba: - Havana: The heart of the Cuban culture, Havana in November is alive with the Havana Jazz Festival, where the city's rich musical heritage is on full display. Wander through Old Havana (Habana Vieja), a UNESCO World Heritage site, to see its colonial architecture and vintage cars. - Trinidad: A perfectly preserved Spanish colonial settlement where time seems to stand still. Explore its cobblestone streets, visit the Museo Romántico, or enjoy live music at Casa de la Musica. - Viñales Valley: Known for its stunning karst landscape and tobacco farms, Viñales offers a glimpse into rural Cuban life. Take a horseback ride or a cave tour to fully appreciate this area's natural beauty. Extra Insights for why it's one of the best places in the world to visit: - Experience the joy of Cuban music and dance, integral parts of daily life. Salsa is not just a dance here; it's a way of life, so consider taking a dance lesson or simply enjoy the rhythms in a local venue. - Taste traditional Cuban cuisine, which blends Spanish, African, and Caribbean flavors. Try dishes like ropa vieja (shredded beef), congrí (rice and black beans), and a mojito or Cuba Libre to toast your travels. Best countries to visit in December: Egypt Wondering what are the best places to visit in the world in December? This month, Egypt invites travelers to explore its ancient wonders without the intense heat of the summer months. The cooler temperatures provide the perfect backdrop for discovering the country's monumental history and vibrant contemporary culture. Best Places to Visit in December in Egypt: - Pyramids of Giza: Standing as the last surviving wonder of the ancient world, the Pyramids and the Sphinx are especially accessible in December's mild climate. - Luxor and the Valley of the Kings: Home to some of Egypt's most significant archaeological treasures, including the tomb of Tutankhamun and the temples of Karnak and Luxor. Read the full article

[houstonroofing25]

Ensuring Your Home's Safety with Affordable Roof Repair and Quality Roof Replacement in Houston

In the bustling city of Houston, homeowners are no strangers to the harsh weather conditions that can wreak havoc on their roofs. From the sweltering summer heat to the torrential downpours of hurricane season, a sturdy and well-maintained roof is essential. This is where Rite Roof Yes comes into play, offering top-notch services in both affordable roof repair and complete roof replacement.

One of the standout features of Rite Roof Yes is their commitment to providing affordable roof repair services without compromising on quality. Over time, even the most robust roofs can suffer from wear and tear, leading to leaks, broken shingles, or worse. Rite Roof Yes understands that unexpected repairs can be a financial burden, which is why they strive to offer cost-effective solutions that fit within your budget. Their team of experienced professionals uses high-quality materials and the latest techniques to ensure your roof is restored to its optimal condition, providing peace of mind and longevity.

For more extensive damage, or when repairs are no longer a viable option, Rite Roof Yes specializes in Houston roof replacement. The process of replacing a roof can be daunting, but with Rite Roof Yes, homeowners can rest assured that they are in capable hands. The company prides itself on its thorough approach, starting with a detailed inspection to assess the extent of the damage and determine the best course of action. They then work closely with homeowners to choose the right materials and design, ensuring that the new roof not only enhances the home's aesthetic appeal but also provides superior protection against the elements.

Rite Roof Yes’s dedication to excellence is evident in their customer testimonials, reflecting their professionalism, reliability, and high standards of workmanship. Their transparent pricing, coupled with flexible financing options, makes it easier for homeowners to undertake necessary repairs or replacements without undue stress.

[bpbuildercts]

BP Builders LLC

BP Builders is a superior roofing company in Rhode Island and Connecticut compared to its competitors. Do you need a new roof for your home or business in Central Connecticut or Rhode Island? The firm to contact for roofing companies near me is BP Builders. Both residential and commercial buildings can benefit from these services. Central Connecticut and Rhode Island construction companies In addition to storm damage restoration, we offer business and residential roofing services.

Roofing companies near me

Both Connecticut and Rhode Island offer a large range of services. For instance, BP Builders repairs storm damage and roofing for businesses and homeowners in those states.

Replacing your roof with BP Builders is undoubtedly one approach to increase the appeal of your home to potential purchasers. There's no need to look elsewhere because our roofing replacement firm has an excellent reputation in Connecticut and Rhode Island.

Services for Commercial Roofing in Your Company

You must take immediate action and contact an expert if you want your roofing issues to be properly remedied. Our team of skilled commercial roofers will complete the job correctly, allowing you to continue focusing on managing your company. Maintaining everything's flawless operation becomes considerably simpler when you do this.

recovery time following the hurricane

Your home's exterior and interior are both susceptible to storm damage. This kind of harm has the potential to go much worse. These kinds of natural calamities have the capacity to cause enormous amounts of destruction. We are anxiously anticipating your prompt response so that we can begin assisting you and working with your insurance provider. An Extensive Synopsis of What to Expect This is because we provide the longest warranties accessible to our clients.

Make BP Builders your first choice if you're looking for trustworthy roofers in your area. We differentiate ourselves from our competitors by offering the longest warranties in the industry because to our unmatched commitment to quality. Our roofing solutions are frequently selected by customers who want top-notch quality because of our remarkable craftsmanship and meticulous attention to detail. We put forth a lot of effort to make sure that every single one of our clients is happy. We will discuss our outstanding 10-year warranty in this presentation, along with all the other reasons BP Builders is the best option for your roofing job. I will discuss these benefits in further detail in the ensuing paragraphs.

Regaining the Trust of Customers with Roofing Services

Selecting BP Builders means teaming up with a group of experts who are dedicated to doing the work well. Remember this at all costs; the subject is important. In addition to completing demanding training programs, our experienced roofers have a ton of relevant work experience. Our meticulous attention to detail has allowed the technique to be faultless at every point, something we are quite pleased of. Whether you are constructing a new roof or doing repairs on an old one, this is a must. Please do not hesitate to get in touch with us at any time that would be convenient for you if you would want to talk more about our services.

ShingleMasterTM is one of the products that Certainteed Select provides.

After hiring roof repair services, you can unwind and enjoy yourself. Just 3% of roofing contractors have the CertainTeed accreditation, so your business will stand out from the competition. Using our extensive knowledge and experience, we will take your roof project through to completion, ensuring not only excellent craftsmanship but also a sturdy, long-lasting framework. Your roof system will survive considerably longer than anticipated because of the superb craftsmanship of BO Builders and the unrivaled SureStart PLUSTM guarantee coverage. This coverage is unmatched by any other.

We are working with all of the insurance firms on these projects.

Roofing company near me

It's possible that strong winds, hail, or storms destroyed your cherished home. Do you still feel the effects of the horrible things that happened to you? You can be confident that we are your greatest option for any and all roofing requirements. contractors for roofing in Glastonbury, CT Part of our all-inclusive service includes handling your claim from start to finish and keeping a cordial connection with your insurance company. This will ensure that everything goes perfectly. Because of our careful inspections, precise estimates, and unshakable dedication, you can rely on BP Builders to return your home to its previous splendor. Our staff will handle any repairs you may require with the highest care and expertise.

Innovative Methods for Short-Term Financial Transactions The procedure for

We will do all in our power to ensure that the people you care about are protected. That is our common aim. It is often recognized that replacing an entire roof may be highly costly. There are numerous easy and convenient ways to pay, such as cash, checks, and all major credit cards. The roof repair team at BP Builders won't allow you to postpone the job for longer than absolutely essential. We have to get the roof fixed as soon as possible. Do not hesitate to get in touch with us if you need any assistance. We respectfully ask for your cooperation.

Your level of cleanup is impressive.

It appears that tidying up the mess is equally as important as fixing or replacing the roof. We've been made aware of this by someone. We also promise to completely cover your landscape to preserve the curb appearance of your property. We'll see to it that this is fixed so we can keep our word. It will need all of our combined efforts to succeed. After our two magnet runs across your yard, we will remove all leftover staples and nails completely. Whether they forget these details or not, they will still be able to stay up in every aspect. In this manner, you'll be able to unwind to the fullest without worrying about anything. You may unwind and enjoy your garden knowing that every precaution has been taken to ensure the safety of your loved ones.

To restate, who we are

BP Builders provides their Connecticut clients with house upgrades in addition to new building. Additionally, all of the operators and owners are locals. Our crew has a combined 25 years of experience and specializes in home remodeling and roofing. We have extensive experience building for both residential and commercial clients. With our extensive list of offerings, we can assist any kind of residence or business.

Our license as a home improvement contractor entitles us to a five-year labor warranty. Please contact us at any moment if you need any additional information. You may be confident that our contractor specialists have the knowledge and expertise to resolve any problem that may develop on your property if you hire them.

Our dedication to quality and the careful examination of each project's minute details are what set us apart from the competitors. From the initial consultation until the installation, our organization fosters a culture of open communication and collaboration. We can ensure that your preferences and needs are met throughout the process in this way. We treat every roofing project with the same professionalism and care, regardless of size. This covers both little fixes and complete roof replacements. This will always be the case, no matter how the project performs.

[omniswimmingpools]

Unveiling the Beauty Beneath: A Guide to Pool Resurfacing in Miami, FL

How to Unravel the Mysteries of Pool Resurfacing: A Guide

In Miami, FL, where the sun, fun, and sometimes hurricanes damage pool surfaces, you can dive into the exciting world of pool resurfacing. If you're proud to own a pool in this tropical paradise, you know how hard it is to keep it looking so beautiful.

This full guide takes you through the ins and outs of pool resurfacing and explains why it's not just for looks but also an important part of pool care.

Getting to Know the Wear and Tear

The weather in Miami is one of its best features, but it can be bad for people who own pools. The top of your pool can get worn down faster if it is in direct sunlight, is very hot, and sometimes storms happen. Cracks, discoloration, and a rough surface may show up over time, which means your Miami pool needs to be resurfaced.

The Look Good Facelift

In addition to making your pool more useful, resurfacing it can also make your outdoor space look better. People in Miami are very proud of how their homes look, and a worn-out pool floor can really take away from that. If you live in Miami and want to resurface your pool, it's like giving it a makeover. It will look great again and be the center of attention on your property.

Making things last longer and last longer

A pool that is well taken care of is an investment that should last for a long time. Pool resurfacing in Miami is more than just making your pool look better; it's also about making it stronger.

Fixing cracks and other flaws quickly will keep them from getting worse and make your pool last longer. If you do upkeep this way, you can avoid having to pay for expensive repairs later on.

Why pool builders are important in Miami, FL

To start the process of resurfacing a pool in Miami, you need the help of experienced professionals. You can get your pool looking new again with the help of a dependable pool builder in Miami, FL. These experts have the knowledge and skills to look at your pool, tell you about the best ways to resurface it, and then do the job perfectly.

When looking for a pool contractor in Miami, FL, you should look at their experience, qualifications, and reviews from past customers. A good contractor will carefully look at your pool's needs to make sure that the resurfacing process meets both practical and aesthetic standards.

Picking the Right Material for Resurfacing

When it comes to resurfacing pools, there are many different materials to choose from, and each has its own set of benefits. The styles that people in Miami can choose from are wide, from the classic marcite to the long-lasting pebble.

Durability, texture, and color should all be taken into account during the decision process. Talking to the Miami, FL pool contractor of your choice will help you make an informed choice based on your tastes and the needs of your pool.

Thinking about costs and making a budget

It costs money to resurface a pool in Miami, and it's important to set a realistic budget for any renovation job. Resurfacing can cost different amounts depending on things like the size of your pool, the material you choose, and any other fixes that need to be done. You can make plans based on accurate information you get from an honest conversation with your Miami, FL pool builder about the costs.

Resurfacing: Do It Yourself vs. Hire a Pro

Even though it might be fun to do something yourself, pool resurfacing is best left to the experts. Specialized knowledge and tools are needed to get a product that is seamless and lasts a long time. A reputable Miami, FL pool builder will not only give you a good finish, but they will also keep you from making mistakes that could happen if you do it yourself.

In conclusion

If you own a pool contractor in Miami, Florida, you can't say enough good things about resurfacing it. It takes care of both the structure and the look of your pool so that it will continue to be a source of pleasure for many years.

Adopting pool resurfacing in Miami is a smart move that pays off in the long run, whether the goal is to improve the pool's look or fix something that needs fixing. Awaken to a refreshed pool oasis that shows how beautiful and strong life can be in Miami.