‘heartworm’_hamzahthefantastic
tired and sleepy conversations with your boyfriend who doesn’t shut the fuck up .
fluff, suggestive talk about martin, family ideas, cuddling in bed, established relationship.
>_<
one thing you noticed about your boyfriend is that he has many things inside his head, a raging –almost painful– need to tell you everything he is thinking about, and while you thank him for the trust, you can’t help but wonder if he analyses the things he says out loud before verbally vomiting them.
“y/n, are you awake?” hamzah’s voice came out soft and groggy, his low tone dragging in a whisper made you open your eyes almost so quick that it hurt.
“hmm, yes.” you replied, adjusting your sight to the dark room.
“do you…wanna talk?” he shifted on the bed, turning his body to face yours. he had a small smile as he looked at you. you felt warm.
the way his hair was messy, and his face so naturally familiar to you felt almost dreamy.
hamzah’s big sleepy eyes made your heart feel like a cooker bomb. weird comparison but to be honest you could almost feel the way it was going to explode anytime.
and god, you love him so much. unexplainably so damn much. he thought the same of you.
“cant sleep, huh?” you asked, getting closer to his body under the covers, but then you felt how one of your cats, probably blue, squealed. he was probably sound asleep between hamzah’s body and yourself, always looking for warmth. the protection of his cat parents
“mmm, nope, not really.” he sighed. “have so much stuff going on, you know? inside my mind, i mean.” he admitted, one of his hands travelled to your face, and he stroked your cheek only to feel some sort of contact. “so fuckin’ pretty, huh, you’re my pretty girl..”
you leaned into the touch like a needy pet, and he couldn’t help but smile, heart feeling full.
“whats inside your mind, hamzah?” you asked curiously.
although you were extremely tired and sleepy, hamzah always came first to you. soul intimacy was important, not only sex, and you wanted to know what was bothering him or keeping him awake at such indecent hours.
“you. always.” oh. “like, for real, y/n, and i don’t wanna sound obsessed, even though yeah, i am pretty much obsessed with you–,” he paused to swallow. your heart felt so heavy with a feeling you couldn’t quite describe, but only hamzah made you feel. “i am always thinking about you.”
to be reciprocated, to be seen. hamzah made you feel seen, as he pretty much matched your deep feelings for him. –oh, y/n, you match my freak!– his voice filled your head. so nice.
“i feel the same way” you bluntly said. “each day i feel like we have been dating for my whole life, because this crazy funny feeling never really goes away.” by that you meant, the exciting feeling of expectation and young love.
first love.
he giggled, low tone. “right! i know, it’s like, okay, like i feel like i am a kid in love, you know? all silly and nervous around you, but at the same time i feel like we have been married for ages!”
to be reciprocated, to be seen. to be in love.
“i love you, hamzah.” you admitted, your voice suddenly softer.
and he didn’t reply, instead, he lifted the covers all the way up till they were engulfing your bodies, the closeness was comforting, and his arms moved around your frame until a hug was crafted. so perfect and tender. his body was like a boiler, providing you of heat, almost like a heat pad for cramps… but man sized.
he looked at you, big round eyes silently speaking, hoping you hear them, –god i love you, i love you so much you’re my fucking world, i wanna spend my whole damn life by your side.– silent confession.
instead, he says;
“have you ever had tapeworms?” hamzah asks out of the blue.
you blink. blink twice. then three times. and then you sigh, remembering your boyfriend was just, well, just like that. it didn’t ruin the atmosphere though, you enjoyed… whatever the fuck he was trying to say.
“hmmm, i don’t think i have had tapeworms, no” you answer snuggling up to his bare chest.
hamzah hums. “it’s fine, me neither by the way, i just asked ‘cause whenever i think of you my heart feels like it’s got a tapeworm inside of it…”
silly, you thought. lovely.
“yeah. i think i know what you mean.”
“i think it’s in the way we match each other so fucking well, yeah? i never thought i could find a person that just… loves me… for what i am…” he said and you felt your heart skip a beat.
your eyebrows furrowed. “elaborate.”
“for instance, you’re my friend, but also my girlfriend, but also my wife, but also my best friend, and not only that, you’re also like, my life partner, you know?”
ugh, stupid fucking feelings. you felt so deeply about hamzah that your heart felt like it could burst out anytime.
“hey, i love you so much it’s almost overwhelming.” you admitted, melting into his touch. “for so long i thought nobody would ever notice me or listen to me or even just, be my friend. or try to take the time to understand me…” your voice lowered at the end of your sentence.
he groaned at how close you were. satisfaction, of course.
“you’re so beautiful, y/n.” he kissed the top of your head. “like, i also thought that martin would be my only friend forever, as scary as it sounds.” he laughed and you did too.
“hey! martin’s nice!” you defended your friend.
“i mean yeah, i love him too, but it’s different. not in the way i love you, and i know he doesn’t love me in the way he loves mandy.” he explained.
“yeah, i know.” you laughed sleepily, as you leaned onto hamzah’s body. it helped a ton that he slept shirtless because you liked the raw closeness.
“martin is cool, but if i had never met you, i would have blue balls and an empty heart!”
“and gay allegations, still.” you added, laughing.
“but most importantly blue balls..” hamzah said serious, with a sigh.
“huh?!”
“i can’t fuck martin. i can’t make love to martin, though, just think about it.”
“dude…” you said, trying not to burst out laughing out loud.
“i have thought about it, but only before meeting you, it’s just weird!” hamzah explained, with a nervous smile on his face.
“you don’t have to think about that, hamzah!” a smile creeped up on your lips. an awkward one.
“right, i know.” he defended himself-, “i don’t think about it anymore, i was just a lonely man before you, though.” ah, you knew that.
every time they could, mandy and martin made sure to tell you how much of a loner miserable man hamzah was. a painfully single dude. even the slushies would be constantly commenting jokes about it.
“because you’re weird that’s why…” you joked and he clicked his tongue. “that’s why i love you”
“you know, before you; it was my hand, lotion, tissues and me against the world.” he listed as if it was a great accomplishment.
as if it was something super fucking serious. to be fair, it was very serious to him.
“no video?” you joked. it felt so nice and genuine to talk about silly stuff like this with your man.
he stopped to think for a second. “nah, just my imagination. always imagined you though, even before meeting you i always imagined someone like you.” he kissed your forehead.
“wow, how romantic, it’s almost as if you’re not talking about beating your meat.”
as you both comfortably joked and laughed, a nice silence filled the room.
hamzah pulled you closer, which you thought was physically impossible, but still, your body thanked his devotion for physical affection.
his low voice broke the silence.
“y/n…”
“yes, hamzah?”
he sighed, holding your waist close to his own. you could feel him, feel him merging with your body, but it was nice, not really anything more than intimacy.
“i can’t wait to have a family with you.” he said, the weight of the confession leaving his chest felt so good.
your eyes opened wide. and you stuttered to reply.
“we are a family.” you said.
the cats, him, you. yeah, a family as god intended, right? but still, you knew what he meant. and you wanted it too.
“do you think we’ll be good parents?” he asked, the tone in his voice indicating he was being honest, being hopeful. he hoped for you to say yes so badly.
you thought for a moment…
“i think we’ll be okay, hamzah.” yeah.
“we’ll be okay, love.” he said, but it was almost as if he was trying to reassure himself.
hamzah wanted a big family, and he liked thinking about caring for the little humans you’d create together.
and the room filled with silence yet again, as you heard his calm breathing, you realised he had fallen asleep. the comfort of his embrace made you fall asleep as well.
hamzah felt so safe with you, so understood. never judged at all. he said weird stuff, but you always had a smile on your face. never grossed out by him, never angry, always loving.
it was nice. to be reciprocated, to be seen.
the heartworm inside his heart wiggled happy, eating his flesh and leaving a trace of only you.
>_<
hope u liked this. i did. heh.
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Taiyang: So you want to be a Harem Protag, huh?
Jaune, confused: No, not really?
Taiyang: Too bad, The Fandom is making you one.
---------------------------------------------------
RWBY Harem Protag
Supplemental Form
So, you've finally got the nerve to ask that cool drink of water you've been sweet on and she finally talked back? Your childhood friend, whom you haven't seen in ten years (according to the fics), has just come back into town and you're already getting along like you never separated. And your big sister has taken to cooking you some wholesome American Canadian lunchboxes full of jelly donuts, hash browns, and mashed potatoes croissants, maple syrup, and poutine. You're probably feeling pretty good about yourself, huh?
NOW STOP.
Because you've found yourself in a dangerous situation that has spelled disaster for many young men like yourself across this great kingdom of ours. You are now the protagonist of a HAREM ANIME, and if you don't act quickly, it could destroy your entire life.
Now, I know what you're thinking. "How could this possibly be a bad thing? Girls chasing after me left and right? Who could be unhappy about that?" You could, son, because your life is now in a state of karmic imbalance.
For every bit of fortune you experience with the opposite sex, there will be equal misfortune in everything else. You must prepare yourself for a string of disasters that could ruin your life and enough accidental sexual misconduct to start your own hashtag.
By the way, you better be taking notes on this because odds are that you're fucking dense as fuck, and probably the worst fucking character ever written.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
DO NOT PANIC.
This is especially important for you because if you do panic, you're gonna end up stripping or groping someone. The laws of the universe itself are now conspiring to have as many female friends of yours to end up naked in front of you as humanly possible.
It's like Murphy's Law; what can go wrong will go wrong, and anything that can go wild will go wild.
Practice your balance and maintain awareness of your surroundings, especially behind you. If not, someone will bump into you and then your hand ends up down her skirt and your face goes into her tits and then there will be a second girl behind you for you to bump your face into her ass. You might think you can avoid this by never going outside, but if you do, all of your female friends will converge on your location to make sure you're okay.
One will arrive first and the second will arrive just in time to find you both in a compromising and erotic position after you stumble into the first girl while trying to be a good host and getting her some donuts and Canadian beer. This happens every time, without fail.
Don't bother asking your parents for help. They've already fucked off to another kingdom and threw away their scrolls.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
REMEMBER YOUR ABCs.
AWARENESS. BALANCE. CLENCHED FISTS.
You can't strip or grope someone if your hand isn't open. However, this will result in you punching a lot of tits.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
IDENTIFY YOUR HAREM.
Utilizing the prior form, you can identify your harem members by the "Tropes" they exhibit. These tropes will determine their entire personalities. These tropes will graviate to the most boring fucking character in the series, that's you by the way, and will be drawn to your complete lack of character or personality like magnets to a pole.
The first trope to identify is the "Tsundere," who will appear as a cold front that gets warmer over time. This shifting in personality will be the one responsible for the most change in your harem. There is always, at minimum, on tsundere present, though scientists are still unsure as to why. You can easily identify the tsundere by her iconic catchphrase, "It's not because I like you, b-baka." You can also identify her by her being a massive fucking bitch to you, like, all the fucking time. In fact, don't forget to guard your head as most harem protagonists receive some form of massive head trauma as a result of a tsundere retaliation, which results in failure to read social cues or MAKING UP THEIR FUCKING MINDS FOR THE LOVE OF REMNANT JESUS!
However, this danger pales in comparison to the second trope to be aware of, the "Yandere". You can compare the yandere to a tornado, as she will absolutely fuck shit up around her in her attempt to keep you at the center of her world. You can identify her by her too sweet smile or by calling you a pet name like "darling" even though she knows your real name. If you find yourself in this scenario, you only have one option: RUN! AND RUN FAST! You will need to fake your death, move to another kingdom (preferably on a different continent), and assume a new identity there. If you require help, please do not hesitate to view the prior film in this series, "SO YOU THINK YOU'RE A NIKOS?"
Encounters with yandere girls are rare, but once again, because you are the absolute fucking worst person to have ever been brought into this world, the yandere will naturally gravitate to you by shifting from one of the other tropes in your harem because you decided to do something fucking stupid and childish like you always fucking do, you fucking stupid child.
There are other tropes that may enter your harem, ranked in order of the danger they pose to your life.
The "Sadodere" named so for their sadistic tendencies, are the most likely to harm you to derive pleasure for themselves. This can be good fun between consenting adults in a controlled environment with a safe word, but in your day-to-day life it will only cause problems for you. On her own, the sadodere is an annoyance, but her tendency to lie and manipulate others around her can amplify the dangers that may occur in a harem system. Fortunately, the sadodere is easy to identify the instant she stops acting nice, so keep your distance once this happens (unless you're into that), and if any other girls are mad at you, ask the sadodere if she was involved in one way or another, then ask her to clear things up once she fesses up that she did.
(Note: Image of Gillian Asturias not found. Backup himedere image posted in her place.)
The "Himedere", also known as "oujo" or "princess" is almost as arrogant and demanding as the sadodere with the exception that she's not likely to cover her facade with sweetness. You can spot a himedere from a mile way by her haughty demeanor, but if you're unsure, which let's be real you are, you can also identify them by their signature vocal call.
OOOOOOHOHOHOHO~!
In the early development stages of a harem, the himedere stubbornness may prove troublesome. However, she is unlikely to be prone to violence like the tsundere, so your only concern is any servants she may have under her employ, all of whom are likely retired assassins in some branch or another. You'd honestly be surprised by how many hitmen make the jump to domestic servitude.
Next, we have the "genki girl," also known as the Deredere. Warm and sunny, but still quite chaotic. You can identify her by her interests in things like "sportsball" or her cheery, comforting smile. She is the least dangerous of the tropes EXCEPT in the vicinity of the tsundere in which her oblivious, good-natured affection will likely get you punched. REPEATEDLY. There is a possibility the deredere is secretly a yandere, so watch out for tell-tale signs such as use of the word "brave and fearless leader" and frequent disappearances of cats and other small animals when she is near.
Finally, the "Kuudere", literally translating to "cool dere", and "Dandere" are quiet and mostly stick to themselves, one from detachment and lack of emotion with the other out of shyness. Both can be identified by their general lack of speech. When approached, a kuudere will respond cynically and pragmatically, while a dandere will respond by blushing and stammering. Neither pose a substantial threat, though it is advised you check on the kuudere once per day just to make sure she's not dead.
There are further variations of these tropes you may encounter, including the drunken older harlot "Yottadere" and the "Kanedere" who want your money. However, it is highly unlikely that your harem will include either of these two, and if it does, they won't really matter.
By and large, 99% of harems include the girls listed prior on this list, all with just slightly different hair colors and styles.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It should be noted that your sister, either younger or older, may be involved in the goings-on of your harem, even showing signs that match one of these tropes. She may appear as the deredere, kuudere, or the tsundere. This used to be a rare occurrence, but in the recent decades, it has become much more common. Modern scientists are blaming global climate, but regardless of the cause, if this happens to you, you only need to follow one simple rule, one key thing above all else...
(Flip to side B)
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little soldier boy???
I think he'd be small but also have bigger ages? But if you could write about him being a small guy it be much appreciated!
Soldier Baby - Is it Him or the Drugs?
Content warning: not kids’ appropriate media. and has not been censored to be even though it involves sfw age regression.
(if you’ve watched The Boys you have an idea of what to expect from the characters’ vocab and personalities.)
Word count: 3175
Tags/warnings: Regressor Soldier Boy - Ben, Caregiver Billy Butcher, Hughie Campbell, poor hughie’s always bullied, Soldier Boy and Butcher accurate cursing and sexual jokes, general vulgarity, Ben being borderline racist/sexist/homophobic/ OUTDATED THINKING except I didn’t actually wanna make it as bad as he actually can be and I also don’t know how to be, anxiety, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of violence, threats, insults, French fries dipped in frosties, if that’s something that disturbs you idk, my American attempt at writing a British man played by a Kiwi man, first time regressing, confusion, panic, misunderstanding, I don’t know, Ben commenting bad things about The Little Mermaid, Butcher being dumb, Butcher taking charge and being a dad, not beta read. Never beta read. I don’t know who I would be if it was beta read.
Perhaps it was because he had taken too much. Or more likely Butcher gave him something laced since his body filtered out most drugs within minutes and he'd been feeling this way since he’d started yawning a couple hours earlier. His yawns started while watching dumb new century movies, one moment he was bitching to Hughie about how his generation relied too heavily on special effects instead of getting creative (like back in his day) the next he was getting asked when the last time he slept was. As if he was some toddler and not a grown fucking man who can occasionally yawn if he wants to damn it! Hughie might’ve been his “babysitter,” as Butcher titled it, when they were alone but he wasn’t a fuckin child for him to fuss over like some sniveling house wife.
“I’ve stayed awake for over a month before partying, kicking ass, and slinging pussy all while doing my damn job as a hero. Then I was asleep for decades because of Russian scum. This is nothing.” He growled at Hughie, the poor boy shaking like one of those fuckin rat dogs he use to see rich women carrying around at those mind numbing Vought galas. “I am not tired. And you'd be wise to stop assuming I was.”
Although if Hughie hadn't said something about it he probably would've put more thought into it. because… beyond just yawning he was feeling… uncharacteristically spacey, even though he really hadn't been awake long enough to excuse that. He hadn't been here for more than a week, right? Doesn't matter now. He was stubborn and would purposely not give it any more thought because Hughie was a cunt.
...that was until his eighth yawn of the day. It was like he was yawning all the time. He couldn't stop himself and at this point he wasn't even watching the movie let alone making his usual commentary. His mind was just focusing on fighting the yawns and the odd feeling in his mind. He couldn't remember a time he felt so unfocused like this. Even in his most fucked up state at the first Herogasm party he threw, he didnt feel this way.
It had gotten to the point that even Butcher had noticed once he had come back from his food run. However Butcher’s attention on him only fed into Ben’s theory that he’d been slipped something and they were just waiting for him to go down so they could do something to him. Maybe the food he’d brought just had more of whatever supe roofie was inside and they would use it to get a second dose in so they could drag him back to the Russians to be tortured again. Maybe they were working with the evil sons of bitches to turn him into this perfect weapon they wanted and this had all been a ruse to gain his trust.
“The fuck you lookin at?” He snapped out at Butcher but the man only raised his hands in surrender, not even putting up an argument which almost made him feel bad since he… had respect for the guy. He was a badass leader that did–albeit unintentionally–released him from his permanent cyro torture. Even if he was suspicious of him right now… He somewhat owed the man.
Also he was placating him with his favorite things. Drugs, trashy food, his own movies. Only things that would make his time better would be to not be spending it in this shithole hotel unless it was with a woman.
Or a few women.
Aged-like-wine women.
Maybe he was overreacting to this spacey-feeling bullshit.
He probably just needed to do a couple lines to get rid of the yawns and he would be good as new.
“Didn’t say nothin, mate. Calm yer pretty little ticker down.” Butcher responded, glancing down at his chest in warning, reminding them all what would happen if he didn’t get over whatever he was getting so defensive about. “Take some pills, take a nap fer all I care. Whatever keeps this buildin from shambles and our goals within sight.”
The nap line was really all he heard and it was definitely the worst thing to say. The bottle in his hand shattered between his fingers like it was nothing more than a breakaway and Hughie’s face drained of color in time with the beer that dripped down his arm.
Ben stood up his finger pointing at Butcher in a real warning, “Whatever the fuck you think you accomplished–whatever shit you roofied me with–it’s best you undo it right now before I turn your queer side piece into– into…” he couldnt even think of a clever threat. It's like his brain was completely malfunctioning leaving him to just angrily settle for a more embarrassingly simple correction. “Before I fucking kill him.”
The Brit raised his eyebrow as he had to take a second to actually will his mouth to hold back a sarcastic comment about the tongue trip, shockingly actually valuing their lives for once since he was so close to getting Homelander with Soldier Boy in his pocket. “A’right.. hold on now. I ain't got a clue whatcha accusing me of but we ‘aven't done it.” he closed his laptop softly, never taking his eyes off Ben the same way he would never take his eyes off a wild horse. “Why d’ya fink we roofied ya? Beyond the actual roofies yew requested, that is?”
His reaction made Ben second guess his theory again. He never second guessed himself like this. Even when he was wrong. And he sure as shit didn't share his feelings. Feelings were for pussies like Hughie. You didn't have feelings in war or at Vought. Yet…. he felt oddly compelled to answer Butcher’s question honestly and without more threats. He couldn't rationalize this strange compulsion other than maybe it was the way Butcher talked to him or managed to not be afraid of him. Or maybe it was because he was potentially slipped something–he still hadn’t ruled it out!
“I feel… wrong. My head ain't clear but everything I’ve taken should’ve worn off by now.” His hand dipped in the air like a physical indicator of his current lowering confidence and defenses which Butcher–in true Billy Butcher fashion–promptly took a shit on.
“Sounds like someone’s backed up. How boutcha go have a wank in the shower while we plug our ears and pretend we hadn’t noticed yer on edge?” Ben scoffed at the suggestion, his defenses rising back up. Butcher didn't get it. He didnt have blue balls, he had a fucked up head!
“No, you fuckin foreign– guy! ” this was really getting pathetic.. “I-it’s like… like–”
“Like PTSD…?” Hughie nervously piped up from where he was watching, still frozen to the couch. The other two men looked over at him and Ben opened his mouth to shut him down but hesitated. While he was actually kind of glad the little runt was taking him more seriously than Butcher had.. he also didn’t have an answer. He wanted to say no, I've seen shell shock, idiot. I don't have it! He wasn't really sure this time because he really didn't feel normal which was only making him feel more… antsy.
Picking up on his discomfort and hesitation, Butcher turned back towards Ben and watched him for a second, actually deciding to have a good look at him beyond his front of anger. He was tense but his body language was severely lacking its usual arrogant confidence. Like he wasn't comfortable within his own space right now. Once Butcher really looked, even his face, which normally lacked any expression beyond irritation, was practically screaming; I don’t know what’s going on! Someone fix it!
He’d seen that look more times than he could count in his life with his line of work but something about it reminded him more of a little kid than an adult in the middle of a PTSD episode. The look was similar to the one that made him call Hughie “kid” regardless of him being a full adult and insisting on it all the time.
He could see something in Ben right now that activated the part of his brain that had always taken care of Lenny as a kid.
The softer part of him that insisted he help the poor sod’s silent beg for help.
“Oi..kay, kid.” Butcher softened the gruffness in his tone and stood up from his seat at the table, snagging a bag of greasy fries and the frostie he had yet to dig into. “Let's get on then, yeah?” He slung an arm around Ben’s shoulder and led him back to the hotel bed in front of the TV he had long set up shop on.
Although still confused, Ben didn’t stop him. Instead following on autopilot while his mind still reeled with thought until his knees bumped against the mattress.
“No– I'm not tired. I told you I'm not tired–” had he told Butcher that or had he only yelled at Hughie today? “I’m not taking a damn nap–!” christ, he sounded like a whining child! Sleeping wouldn’t kill him for fuck’s sake! If the Russians hadn't figured that out after this many years surely they never would– unless they did. He didn't want to be tortured more– how long would it be before his mind broke for good? Before he died?
“No, y’ain’t so hush and stop yer worrying. Were jus’ gonna sit and eat the food I boughtcha before my money goes ta waste.” Ben looked surprised to have been effectively told to shut up and do what he's told but what he was most shocked about was the fact he didn't immediately get the desire to punch the shit out of him for having the audacity to do so. He just felt… odd. Like there were butterflies tying uncomfortable knots in his stomach. Like… it was almost nice to have a direction to go into so his thoughts would pause.
“Come on. Don’t make me wait. Fries ain’t neva last too long outside the frya.” Butcher pat his lower back, almost like he was a little kid getting encouraged forward and he listened. He crawled up onto the bed and sat in his spot looking at him with big eyes, clearly at a loss with the situation. He felt like he didn't know himself. This was a part of him he’d never experienced and he didn't know what to do, yet Butcher… seemed as at ease as ever. Like he’d dealt with a hundred men with nukes in their chests yelling at him.
Though he knew him longer than Ben did, even all Hughie could do was watch with the same odd mixture of shock and amazement when Butcher sat down beside the supe, tossed the fries between them, then changed the channel. No one had touched the remote since Ben had figured it out just enough to channel surf onto his own films. He had guarded that thing like a kid who found a new toy he didn't want to share.
“I.. was watching that.” Ben struggled to get out in a mumble that had never left his lips before.
“Won't spoil the ending for ya then, just say it ain't worth more than a prostitute that's got the clap.” Butcher casually informed him while he looked through the menu. The hotel, although shitty in every other aspect, actually had a Vought+ subscription, which begrudgingly had a pretty good selection. “Hughie, be a good lad for me an name a tolerable animation that aint Disney.”
“The Little Mer…maid..?” Hughie stuttered out, his brain automatically picking the last Disney movie he’d watched with him, too scared to really absorb the question.
“That’s Disney, Champ. Lookin fer somethin on Vought+”
“Oh. Right. Um..” He racked his brain for a moment trying not to mess this up and get his butt chewed by Soldier Boy later for choosing a movie he would hate sitting through. But the more he thought about everything the grumpy old man complained about when they were alone the less movies he could think of. In fact all he could think of was Ariel. Ariel.. Ariel, save me. Oh wait. “Isn't… isn't there a Disney princess section on Vought+ now?”
“Hn.. There is. Good thinkin.” Butcher cleared his throat a bit as he clicked on the movie then tossed the remote to reach for a fry, not paying attention to the way Ben was currently staring at him like he was an alien. “Redheaded broad it is.”
“Disney.. prin…cess? Like… the films for.. little brats..?” Ben slowly asked out, his voice not really feeling like his own with how insecure and… small it sounded. This all felt like a drug fueled dream. A really weird one, not one of the fun ones. Maybe he’d already fallen asleep and was back in some cyro-coma.
“Mmhm. Hughie likes em. Usually he leans more towards that lil boffin Belle over the glorified sushi princess but–”
“I like Ariel!” Hughie instantly defended but his cheeks went pink as he realized he meant to defend himself in a different way. Like one that might keep his reputation intact or keep himself from being relentlessly bullied by resident tough man, Soldier Boy. “I-I mean–” He gave Butcher an embarrassed, desperate look as he hissed out between his teeth a clear plea. “Butcher..! Come on..!”
Ben’s head swiveled between Hughie and Butcher feeling like he was missing out on something. He felt like that a lot recently since the world was so much different than it was back when he was last in it but this felt like he was out of the loop on something he should know.
“Why… why does Hughie like–” Before he could even finish his question, Butcher had slipped an ice cream dipped fry in his mouth, surprising him further. His reaction time was lacking, he hadn't even seen the man’s hand until it was too late. His senses were dulled. Could only imagine the foul shit his father would say if he saw him now.
“Film’s startin, kid, eat yer food.” Butcher spooned a mouthful of frostie into his own mouth with the grace expected of a grown man whose shirt was stained as much as it was and Ben watched him as he slowly followed instructions and chewed what had been given to him. His gaze flicked over to Hughie still trying to figure out what was going on but all Hughie was telling him was that he’d rather be swallowed alive by the couch than make eye contact with him.
The sound of water splashing alongside loud music on the tv stole his attention away from his less than stellar detective work and he watched for a few seconds as sailors began to sing. His brows furrowed and he turned to Butcher to protest and ask again about why the hell grown men would watch cartoons like this but the moment his mouth opened he was spoon fed some frostie. And while it was more careful than how the Brit had fed himself the action was aggravating. Ben looked at the Brit with an unhappy glare that probably looked more harmless than his usual happy expression if the rest of him looked as pathetic as he felt. But when he was given no attention from it he finally turned away to begrudgingly watch the stupid movie they insisted on making him watch instead of dealing with his problems.
Twenty minutes was all it took for Ben to be fully enraptured, his thought process having melted away with the colorful fish on the screen without his knowledge. Butcher had kept a casual eye on him after he’d realized he was dropping, mildly worried that the loose cannon might start to get anxious again if he broke out of his distraction. It was a little rockier at the start of the movie when he was still incredibly uneasy with the situation and unhappy with having been fed twice without permission; however Butcher was stupid and confident. An that’s what got ‘im this far in life, right?
So sue him if he let himself feel a bit smug as Ben obliviously settled into this new headspace, watching the movie as if it were the most interesting thing he’d ever witnessed. The only time he occasionally turned away from the screen was for the brief moment it would take to be spoon fed another bite being offered. Nothin beat the tried and true combination of an age regression classic an comfort food t’keep someone perfectly satiated in a headspace, eh?
Kid would barely wait to swallow before pointing at the screen to yell something about it because he was trying so hard to listen after having been told “ta swallow ‘is food ‘fore speakin,” but still NEEDED to give his commentary on everything since at his core he was still Ben. He might be acting younger but he was still who he was for better or for worse. And that included movie commentary.
Ben: “That crab is such an ass-munch! I mean look at him! He’s practically makin out with King Trident’s butt.”
Butcher: “His name’s Sebastian, you’ll like him more later on, bud.”
Ben: “I don’t like commies.”
Butcher: “Now why’dja go an call the poor ol bastard that?”
Ben: “He’s red.”
Butcher: “That don’t mean… he’s a crab, mate.”
Ben: “And? Crabs can be commies.”
Hughie: “That’s weirdly the most inclusive thing I’ve heard you say.”
—
Ben: “Hell yeah King Trident!”
Hughie: “You can't cheer for him, he just destroyed his daughter’s most prized collection!”
Ben: “Uh yeah. She didn't do what he said so she earned it. And she was probably kissin on that statue like a weirdo. Anyway he looked cool doing it.”
Butcher: “An how’dja know she was doin that?”
Ben: “I dunno.”
Hughie: “Ariel wouldn't kiss a statue!”
Ben: “Shut up, Hughie, you don't know that!”
Hughie: “Yes, I do! I’ve watched this movie more than you!”
Butcher: “Boys.”
Hughie: “Sorry..”
Ben: “Well I’m not sorry.”
Once the junk food was gone, Ben started his yawns again but Butcher counted himself lucky that his anxiety didn't notice them this time since that was the only thing he could guess set him off earlier. That or he just took too much while he was gone and got paranoid. Supe was a nutcase anyhow and Butcher probably trusted him even less than Hughie did.
Near the end of the movie though was when the brick of a man made himself comfortable against Butcher’s side and without making it a big deal, the infamous bloke wrapped his arm around his shoulder to pull him in tight. He was softer than he looked. Maybe that level of comfort he was providing was why Ben’s aggressive commentary died away before he could give a final scathing review and instead slipped asleep the moment the next movie started. But Ben would certainly deny that to anyone that brought it up. Including his own thoughts. He’d rather blame those supe-special roofies he never confirmed.
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