#i can't wait to see him again someday soon

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

The angst was so real (in the best way)! 😭

She does, she's just afraid to admit it to herself and afraid to have those feelings for someone who doesn't love her back. And it really makes you want to hit her over the head with a frying pan LOL. And thank you! That's how I intended it to be, which is even more heartbreaking 😭

It does make sense, poor thing. 😭 She's so unwilling to believe he could love her the way she wants/needs, while he's hesitating to allow himself to do it. And I'm thinking he's fighting off some self-doubt/self-worth issues as well?

I love this journey of self-discovery for her, both with her brother and past, and with her expanding powers. It's pique Hero's Journey stuff! 💚

Plus, I really think that the creature is adorable, well, besides the murder tendencies. (I guess we could also say that about Ben LMAO)

LMAO factssss. Who could say no to that adorably confused grandpa face?

The reader is killing me tbh. I know I've said this before, but writing slow burn is literally almost as bad as reading it. Don't get me wrong I LOVE slow burn, but oh my stars sometimes it's so frustrating for them to both be in so much denial lol. I shouldn't complain because I did this to myself and now it really is "oh look the consequences of my own actions" lol.

LOLL the slow burn is a killer for both of us! "The consequences of our own actions" is so deeply relatable for the writing process. 🤣🤣

Thank you so much!💗 For me there really is something wonderful about reading/seeing creative chaos in a home, and also looking at creative spaces that people have. I think that there is warmth and comfort in a home that looks lived in. It's why I don't love minimalism, because it looks cold if that makes sense lol.

Aw you're welcome! I totally agree. I love seeing that as well -- it's like getting a window into a person's mind through their living space. I don't like minimalism for that reason either!

Again, I was so on the fence about Soothsayer, but what you said about her being in "an even better position to give her advice when it comes to that man" is exactly why I decided to include her.

Honestly it was a great twist! It makes her friendship with Ben more fleshed out and her own past, and how it serves to help the reader now. Especially now that it seems she's going to help get the reader and Ben together! 😂

I know 😭 She is going to realize it soon and I am so excited about that reveal. Oh plus I do think that she does know deep down that she does love him and care about him, but she's afraid to admit it because she doesn't want to fall for someone who she believes doesn't value relationships like she does.

God I can't wait!! lol And I totally get that. She really does seem to realize how deep her feelings run for him, but she's afraid, for the reasons you said. 🥲🥲

Mayyyybbbbeeeee...😉 Honestly, as much as I love reading fics where the reader isn't a supe, there's always a little part of me that can't help but see the reader growing old and Ben staying the same, and it always breaks my heart. There really is something so intimate and romantic about being able to truly spend your life with someone else, not just your life and then they go on for another few centuries.

Ooooh yesssss. 😏 And totally agree with you there! It's too bittersweet for me when you know one of them is going to die someday and the other keeps living on, carrying the weight of their memory. It's why I had to come up with that twist in BMD loll. Thank you for noting on that! It took some head scratching and BS science (and some inspo from my love of Smallville), but I think the reasoning was convincing enough on how the reader in BMD "caught up" with his longevity of life. 😂 I also love the idea of the plants giving her healing abilities and prolonging her life through that cell regeneration. 💚💚

It's my favorite line too! That and the bundt cake 😂. But you're right, he's afraid of everything that he's feeling and after Countess, he's not sure if he should fall for someone again.

Can't forget the bundt cake!!

Oh yeah, Countess sure fucked him up. 😬 That, along with the torture and years of being treated like a god in all other respects. 🫠

Oh Ben, he'll get there. He just needs some actual love in his life, and someone stubborn enough to not only put up with his shit, but like you said, "take a chance" on him. 😉

It's always my pleasure to read your stories, hun! Giving the feedback is the least I can do. 💕

Chapter 14: Don't Be A Bundt Cake

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

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy, Miscommunication Trope

Word Count: 13.1K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Talks of Death, DENIAL, Idiots in Love, Pining by the Reader (and SB, but he won't admit it) Depressing Thoughts, Mentions of sexual assault/rape (not detailed at all, really just in passing) Talks about weed, Sexist comments, Ben makes derogatory comments, Threatening Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

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

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: I am so sorry this one took me a bit longer. The writers block was fighting me the whole way, but we are very closely nearing the end of this series and the moment the reader and Ben stop being so stinkin' stubborn.

Reader POV

You lean your forehead against the cool window, watching the world flash by in a flurry of color. The wooded forests had vanished hours ago and all that was left were the yellowed sprawling fields of corn and grain and family farms that were laid sporadically along the interstate. Each one a little world that caught the flecks of golden sunlight as the sun began to peak above the horizon.

The bus rolled smooth and steady over the weathered pavement towards it's destination and was filled with an odd assortment of people young and old. There was man with a brightly colored parrot that had been singing "It's A Small World After All" since you left NYC, a woman with a little boy playing with an iPad and who refused to turn down the volume no matter how many times his mother asked him to, a group of teenagers a few seats up that continued to pass around a flask, and due to how far back you were sitting on the bus an uncomfortable smell emanated from the bathroom each time the door was opened.

But you didn't notice any of it.

The only thing on your mind were the events that happened almost twenty hours ago. They continued to circle your mind, playing over and over again like a perverted cassette tape making you sink further into the worn cloth covered seat at the back of the bus. The images were haunting, some new and some old, but all the more still horrible to re-live.

The song "Nights In White Satin" floating into the backseat of your family's car, the flash of unnatural light you knew was never lightning, the caskets at your parent's funeral covered in flowers that were much to pretty to lay on something so morbid, Elijah's body succumbing to the poppies that ripped him apart, the proud sneer on your brother's face when he admitted to killing your parents, Darren's broken and bloodied body strewn in pieces over the street with the creature standing over him with a dripping red maw, the ruined building that housed "Please Don't Die" reduced to nothing more than rubble, and the look on Ben's face when you turned your back on him and fled the scene.

For some reason that particular image seemed to cling on to you and refused to fade. You'd never seen him look that way, almost… helpless and a little fearful. In all the time you'd known him, Ben had never looked at you that way. Sure you'd seen him proud, angry, cocky, lustful, mischievous, but never fearful. And you were sure that it wasn't an emotion that he was used to feeling, but that begged the question… why?

Why was he looking at me like that? Why wouldn't he let me go? And what was he afraid of?

The creature curled in your lap snorts something in it's sleep, turning it’s head further into the cradle of your elbow to shut out the brilliant early morning sunlight. It was now the size of a toaster and had warranted several odd looks whenever you got off to change buses, but you didn't care.

You weren't sure about anything anymore. Everything your brother confessed to you made you feel like you were living a lie and the revelation of exactly what your powers could do- take life from plants to heal yourself, create whatever the hell it was on your lap, and speak to plants… it scared you.

You thought for so long that you knew everything about your powers, that you were in control, but now you weren't sure.

You felt different, as if something had unlocked deep down that you couldn't shut up again.

You'd felt different after you killed Elijah, but this was more alive, weaving and twisting in the pit of your stomach. You felt more connected to the earth, to the world outside the bus even though you were divided by glass and metal. You could feel the energy that thrummed through the body of the creature on your lap, bending to your will, the life force of the plants it was formed from molding with you, becoming a part of you.

You felt so different than the person you had been before Darren entered the shop, so uncertain, and there was only one place you wanted to be when you felt like this… home. You couldn't wait to run up the worn front steps of your grandmother's house and into her arms. She always knew what to say in times like this.

And you desperately needed the comfort of her embrace.

The phone in your pocket buzzes again and you flip the screen to see the ridiculous selfie Annie and you had taken on Halloween last year. The one that you'd both spent dressed up as the two brothers from your favorite paranormal tv show. It wasn't the first time she'd called. Annie had called and texted you more times than you could count over the past twenty hours but you didn't answer her. You didn’t want to.

It was the first time that you didn't want to talk to her, but talking to her meant that you'd have to re-live all of it again and you were clawing at the last shred of sanity you had left to keep it together.

The overwhelming waves of emotion kept pummeling you, dragging you deeper beneath the white surf. Each one brought the memories of what happened surging over you and were followed by everything that Darren said to you. Years of taking care of Darren and doing whatever he wished were tearing at your soul, years of giving up little things in your life to make him happy, and years of taking care of a man who you thought cared about you, but hated you enough to kill your parents and try to kill you too.

It made your skin crawl. Each time your brother told you that he loved you was an even bigger lie and now that you knew the truth and saw him for what he was, it felt like you were drowning. The darkness that ebbed just on the edge was begging you to leap into the abyss, but you were resisting the best you could.

The tears had stopped falling miles ago, but you couldn't stop the memories or the emotion that formed a cold ball in the pit of your stomach.

A sigh works it's way up and you pull your legs on the seat underneath you, jostling the creature on your lap that raises it's head for a moment to blink it's black eyes at you sleepily.

It was surprisingly docile right now, especially considering that twenty hours ago it had ripped your brother to shreds. In fact it seemed to understand how upset you were and had spent the better part of the last twenty hours rubbing it's head against your arm as if trying to bring you some comfort. It was settled on your lap, the weight of it a comfort, almost like a weighted plushy that gave you something to focus on.

"It's alright buddy." You whisper, scratching him under his chin. "We're almost home."

The phone in your jacket pocket buzzes again, but when you pull it out to turn it off, you catch a glimpse of the screen, and you hesitate. Because this time it's not Annie who's calling, it’s Ben.

The picture that flashes on the screen under the contact name "Gramps" is the picture of Mr. Fredrickson from Up. It always made you smile whenever he called you and you saw the picture because Ben did often remind you of him. He was certainly just as grumpy as Mr. Fredrickson and just as out of touch, but you thought it was cute.

Your thumb hovers over the answer button and you think about talking to him.

But what would I say?

You weren't sure what to say to him, or why you wanted to speak to him so badly, why you wanted him to be sitting here on the bus with you as you went home, and why you wanted him to hold you against his chest while you allowed yourself to break, but you did. You wanted to feel his awkward shoulder pat and his awkward version of hand holding and you wanted to hear him try to tell you to "buck up" or whatever he thought that a comforting word should be.

He's really not the best at that.

You smile to yourself at the memory of how he tried to comfort you back at the hospital, but the longer you sit there and look down at the picture on the screen the worse you feel.

Maybe that scared you more than your newfound powers, how much you were realizing that you needed him, how much you depended on him when things got too much for you to bear. The memory of him appearing as soon as you needed him back at the shop, another of him grabbing Darren and throwing him into the street as soon as Darren insulted you comes in a flash, and finally followed by the memory of Ben carrying you out of Elijah's office while you curled into his chest. You couldn't remember too much from that moment, in fact you'd thought that Ben had kissed you on top of your head, but you ascribed that to the haze of pain you'd been in from your broken arm.

What you did remember was how wonderfully warm he was after you'd been trapped in that damn freezer and how nice it felt to be in his arms. Another memory of Ben sleeping on the couch at the hospital bubbles up and you feel something in your chest begin to crack open. And you try your best to tell yourself the same thing that you always do when you feel like Ben might care more about you that he was letting on.

Ben doesn't want that. He's made it perfectly clear. He doesn't want a relationship. He's only wants one night, that's why he goes out with all those women-

You hesitate, thumb still hovering over the answer button as you do, the memory of the week you'd spent at the apartment with him flickering in the back of your mind. The week where he refused to leave you alone in the apartment, where he refused to do any jobs for Butcher, where he took care of you the best way he could, when he sat with you on the couch and made you laugh with his ridiculous movies, and the week where he hadn't had one date.

Your finger itched to answer the phone, but you couldn't, because you didn't want to feel this way about Ben, not when he'd told you countless times that you kept romanticizing him, not when he told you that he didn't want a relationship, and not when you could feel yourself beginning to fall for someone you thought was the wrong man.

For just a moment you tried to pretend that it was different, that he was different, but you didn't want to. It only made it hurt more.

The phone stops ringing, but the pit in your stomach still gapes open at you and for the first time in twenty hours you feel tears begin to fall. You didn't know why you were crying about this, why the thought of not picking up Ben's phone call seemed to hurt more than everything that had happened, but something made it hurt.

The bus driver announces over the overhead that you're reaching your final destination as he takes the exit for your hometown. The familiar buildings that line the streets are sheathed in a honeyed glow from the sun, the long shadow of the bus darkening them momentarily as it rumbles down the small streets to the bus station.

When it rumbles to a stop at the bus station you wait for everyone else to get off, trying to summon the strength to stand, and swipe the back of your hand across your face to rid yourself of the remaining tears.

The bus station was about a thirty minute walk from your grandmother's house, and you still hadn't called her. You didn't know what to say, didn't know how to tell her that Darren was dead and that he was the reason why your parents were dead.

The creature crawls up your body to drape it's warm body over the back of your neck as you stand. It wasn't bothering to hide, besides the people in your hometown already thought that you were odd because you were a supe and you'd always welcomed it. You give him a scratch on top of his head and his warm tongue flicks on the bottom of your earlobe as if thanking you before it curls further into the side of your neck, seeking warmth.

The first few steps on solid ground are shaky, but you find the strength while taking in a deep cleansing breath of the outside world, letting the gentle warmth of the sun and the tickle of the autumn breeze pull at your coat. You hadn't stopped at your apartment before coming here, instead you had stumbled your way to the bus station covered in dust, flecked in blood, and demanded the first ticket back to Illinois. It was lucky that the next bus was leaving immediately, because you didn’t want to spend another second in NYC, not when all you wanted was to be home.

Plus you were worried that someone had recorded what exactly happened outside the plant shop and you didn't want to get arrested.

It was self defense anyway. Maybe Jake would represent me in court.

The thought of Jake makes you twinge. You hadn't checked to see if he was alright before you ran from the scene. Not to mention you'd destroyed the shop he'd put all his life savings into after he stopped being a lawyer.

Oh fuck, what if he sues me? He can't exactly sue Darren…

You hear someone call your name and you open your eyes.

Your grandmother is standing in front of the same baby blue pickup truck that she'd had longer than you've been alive, wearing a long multicolored skirt and a pressed white blouse tucked elegantly into it. Her silver hair is loose and long, curling over her shoulders in gentle waves. She looks the same way she looked one week ago when she left, and you've never seen anything so beautiful in your life.

You're running before you can stop yourself, crumbling into her warm embrace, with more tears streaking down your face, but she doesn't mind.

"Shh. It's alright honey." She whispers, rubbing her hand over your back, her embrace steady and surprisingly strong. "Let's go home."

Her home is the same as it's always been. A two story Victorian house painted in a happy yellow shade, with a white wrap around porch and two white rocking chairs sitting empty on the front porch. You'd spent more nights than you could count rocking silently beside her with a crochet project in your lap listening to the rain fall and soak the world outside, while the plants sang praises with every gentle bend beneath the heavy droplets.

You could barely remember the home you spent in your early years with your parents, not when you'd spent most of your childhood spending the night here and after your parents died living here permanently. There was still a large oak tree were a wooden swing swung in the slight breeze on the left side of the yard, a gardenia bush that stretched as high as the second story on the right side of the house and brushed it's soft leaves against the sunshine colored outer walls, a garden filled with both flowering plants and herbs that perked up on both sides of the front yard as you walked up the path, and a cobblestone path that Annie and you had spent hours of your shared childhood covering in chalk art.

Neither of you were good, but when the rain would fall and smudge the clean lines, you'd jump in the puddles that pooled along the walkway singing the lyrics to ABBA's "Cassandra" not quite understanding what it meant.

Standing here outside your house made you miss Annie and feel worse about not calling or texting her back, but you didn't feel like talking about what happened and you were sure that Butcher filled her in. The only thing that you wanted was to collapse in your bedroom upstairs and curl under the comforters.

Despite everything the house was a welcome sight, but at the same time it was different. You could feel the plants calling out to you, asking for you, bending towards you just to touch your shoes as you walked by. You'd never felt so connected with them before, not even when you were in your apartment or working at the shop.  It was overwhelming.

And although a part of you was frightened by it, another part of you rejoiced in it. You didn't feel alone, didn't feel weak, and you knew that you never would ever again.

The creature nuzzled into the side of your neck with a sigh, soaking up the sun's healing rays as you walked up the front steps with your grandmother following behind you silently. She hadn't spoken since she picked you up at the bus station and you hadn't supplied anything in the ten minute car ride back to her house.

You didn't know where to start and you were still trying to process everything yourself.

The inside of her house was just as cozy and warm as it was the day you moved out. There were photos of your parents and you covering the walls (Darren's had been placed in the closet long ago), half-finished knitting projects sorted in different baskets on both the dining room table and the living room coffee table, spools of yarn were strewn over the couch sorted by color, and the fresh smell of gardenia wafted through the open windows on the breeze.

It was home. This was what you'd been missing the moment everything began to crash over you, but as you stood there in the familiar living room it felt like something was missing. Something tugged at the back of your mind, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

There was something or rather someone that should be here, but you didn't know what or who. And your mind supplied Annie, but you weren't sure that's who you meant.

"Let's have some tea." Your grandmother says from behind you and you feel her soft hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the familiar creative chaos and into the large kitchen at the back of the house.

The kitchen isn't spared from the madness, it rarely was. There are boxes upon boxes of cookies in different stages of being packaged all over the counter, dirty bowls and a measuring cup stacked in the sink, and a large opened bag of chocolate chips spilling over the flour covered kitchen island.

It wasn't unusual to find the kitchen or the house in a state of chaos, your grandmother always said that a house should look lived in and that the mess was part of the fun of any major project as long as you were responsible enough to clean it up.

"Bake sale?" You ask as you sit down in the breakfast nook, uttering the first words that you'd said to another human being in twenty hours.

The next breath that you inhale was supposed to be cleansing, but you can still feel a weight pressing down on your chest, the same one that settled in the moment everything happened with Darren.

You contemplate again how you're going to tell her that Darren is dead and was the reason why your parents died.

Damn it Darren.

"Mhmm." She hums, filling the well used red kettle. "Annie's mother practically cornered me in the supermarket yesterday and begged me to make cookies. I love Annie, but her mother needs someone to pull that stick out of her ass. It's been up there for so long that I'm sure it's rotten."

The creature crawls down from your shoulders and down your arm to sniff at one of the chocolate chip cookies nearest you. It hadn't eaten since…

Darren.

You wince slightly at the thought and hope that you hadn't created something that needed and craved human flesh. The last thing you wanted to unleash on the world was Audry two especially in the wake of Homelander.

Truthfully you were waiting for the guilt at killing your brother to come, but it never had and you wondered if it ever would.

Probably not. He deserved that, he killed our parents, he tried to kill me, he tried to kill Ben.

The thought of Ben again makes a lump form in the back of your throat. You didn't know what was happening to you only that you felt guilty for leaving him like that, for yelling at him to let you go, and just vanishing on him when he probably thought that you were going back to the apartment.

He doesn't know where I am. Maybe that's why he tried to call, because he got back to the apartment and couldn't find me there and he was worried. You press your lips together. Yeah. Worried. Right.

"Honey?" Your grandmother says in a soothing voice

You look up from the box of chocolate chip cookies that you didn't remember picking up. Even the creature is looking at you with an expression that you can only explain as worry.

"Yeah?" Your voice shakes slightly.

She's leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, head tilted slightly to the side, her beautiful grayed hair pulled up in an elegant bun, but in her eyes you can see genuine concern. "Fuck." She sighs after a minute.

You blink in surprise. It was the first time that you'd ever heard her say that word in your entire life.

"I shouldn't have left." She breathes. "I told Ben to look out for you. I told him, that little bastard was bound to show up again and what did he do? He left you at that plant shop alone with no protection!"

You'd only seen her really angry a handful of times in your lifetime. Like you, your grandmother often had a gentle disposition and didn't get angry unless the situation called for it.

I mean, Darren admitted to killing our parents and then got fucking ripped apart. But how does she know about any of that? I haven't told her…

"How did you know that he left me there? Did Ben call you?" You ask putting down the box of cookies.

An odd expression crosses her face, as if she's contemplating something. "No." She hesitates again. "I saw it."

"No." Your grandmother hesitates. "I saw it."

"You saw it?" You repeat, confused.

What's going on?

"Too late of course, but I'm a little rusty. I was able to warn Ben that Darren was coming back. That's how he got there so quickly or rather-" She shrugs sheepishly. "He got there in time to make sure that Darren didn't get you to forgive him. Which you shouldn't have at all, but I know he's always had a talent for manipulating you."

"What?"

Is she saying what I think she's saying?

Instead of explaining further your grandmother walks out of the kitchen, leaving the kettle behind on the stove and you in a state of utter confusion.

Is she saying that she can see the future? Because that would mean that she's a supe and there's only one supe in history that I know of that can do that. A supe that no one has seen in over forty years.

You can hear her open the door to the closet under the stairs and the sound of her sifting through all the junk that the two of you had shoved in there over the years instead of finding the right place to put it.

When she comes back into the kitchen, she's holding a giant cardboard file box that you'd never paid attention to each time you opened the closet to find something. Your eyes shift from the box to her still not comprehending exactly what she was saying.

"I probably should have told you this a while ago, but…" She trails off and nods her head at the box before turning back to the kettle on the stove that has begun to scream. "I kept putting it off."

The box is old, worn at the edges, and theres a musty black fabric beneath a collection of yellowed photographs. You pull out the one on top to examine it.

Ben is standing there in his full Soldier Boy regalia outside of Vought tower and the woman standing next to him is Soothsayer. The outfit she wore was familiar, a black-skin tight suit with a blind fold tied over her eyes.

Soothsayer was a supe who could see the future and who was apart of Payback, a supe that had vanished a year before the mission in Nicaragua and no one knew where she went. There were rumors that she'd died and that she'd been a Russian spy, but you'd never believed them. You'd heard Butcher talk about how he tried to find her when he was trying to figure out what happened to Soldier Boy, but he never had. Said that the trail went cold.

But now you knew where she went, because she was standing directly in front of you.

She's Soothsayer? Holy fuck that's why Ben kept accusing her of cheating in the poker game because he knew that she could see the future.

"You were Soothsayer?" You gasp. "But why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me?"

She continues to measure the tea leaves. "I didn't tell anyone."

"Grandpa didn't know? But he was alive when you were a supe?"

Your grandfather had never spoken about a history with supes that you remember.

"No." She turns to look at you, a hurt expression crossing over her face for a minute. "Well, I know that I said I was going to have tea, but if we're going to talk about this I'm going to need something a little bit stronger."

Your grandmother opens a cabinet under the stove an pulls out an enormous bottle of scotch. Truth be told you'd never seen her drink more than just a glass of wine, to see her like this was about as shocking as seeing a polar bear sunning itself on a Florida beach.

"Do you still want the blueberry tea or do you need something a little stronger?" She looks back over her shoulder at you as she pulls down a glass for herself.

"I think I need something stronger." You answer honestly.

Learning about everything Darren had done was one thing, but finding out that your grandmother used to be a famous supe and that she never told you about it was another thing. It was like looking at another person. You'd always loved your grandmother's gentle way, her care for her community and her family soft, but now you weren't sure you really knew who she was.

She sits down across from you and hands you a glass of the amber colored liquid. There's a heavy silence that hangs between the two of you as she tries to find a way to start. The photo of her and Ben is laying on top of what you realize is her uniform inside the box and she smiles down at the photo, just a little twitch at the corner of her lips.

"I met Ben when I was twenty three years old." She begins taking a sip from the glass. "Legend 'discovered' me. I had the injection of Compound V maybe two years before that, not when I was born, but I hadn't gotten popular. Other powers were much more flashy and by then there were so many heroes coming out of the woodwork that someone with the ability to see the future didn't seem as marketable."

There's something reflected in her blue eyes, the same eyes your father had, that you can't place. "I had just moved to New York, I had no money, and the way I was getting it was by pretending to be a fortune teller and betting on some sports events on the side. It wasn't hard to prove that I could see the future, the past was more difficult, but Legend somehow stumbled into my shop and figured out that I was a supe. And he didn't think I was too bad looking so he helped me get big."

"You pretended to be a fortune teller?"

She snorts into her glass. "Mhmm. People really will believe anything if they're desperate enough and back then there was so much turmoil going on with Russia that people were scared and wanted to feel comforted. My job provided some of that."

"But why did you walk away from it if you were such a big hero." You ask. "Everyone knew your name, you were-"

Your grandmother raises an eyebrow at you and you fall silent so she can continue. "When I got onto Payback that's when everything exploded for me, the films, the commercials, the ridiculous ads." She sighs. "That's also when I met Ben."

You take a sip from the glass in front of you, sputtering slightly. It was stronger than you were expecting. "And you two were-"

Please don't say dating, please don't say dating, please don't say…

"Friends. Just friends." Diana sits back against the back of the breakfast nook, sinking into the navy blue pillows. "But he is almost as charming now as he was then."

You cringe at the thought of Ben coming on to a younger version of your grandmother.

She taps her glass with her index finger deep in thought. "But I think that I was the only person that Ben actually talked to, the only person that he was comfortable being around."

"What do you mean?" You ask confused. "Didn't he talk to Countess and to Legend?"

Her expression hardens at the mention of Countess's name. "He didn't talk to her the way he talked to me. Ben is difficult, he always has been and I think that most of the people he meet him write him off as this asshole with a chauvinistic look on the world, but he's not. At least, not all the time. There are so many people that he's met that are never willing to take a chance on him. To trust that there is really something beneath all of that bravado."

It was what you had been thinking for the past week, that there was more to Ben than he was willing to let people see, but you were slowly realizing that Ben was letting you see those parts. In the quiet moments at your shared apartment when he sat with you while you read or made you laugh or walked you to and from work you saw another side of Ben that you never saw when he was around anyone else. The guilt rises again when you think of how you ran from him, how you turned your back and left him standing there to clean up your mess.

I shouldn’t have done that, but it was all just so overwhelming and I didn't want to talk to anyone.

"I think that Ben is the most loyal friend I ever had. No one ever seems to believe me when I say that. That we were just friends, but nothing happened between us."

"You didn't date? Or sleep together?" You ask cautiously. It was difficult to imagine Ben being friends with a woman and not having a sexual relationship with her.

Well. We're friends, but that's different.

The last thing you wanted to think about was Ben and your grandmother having sex.

I would need so much therapy after that. You sigh. Yeah, because after all the shit I've been through and found out about my life in the last twenty hours, the knowledge that Ben fucked my grandmother is what's going to push me over the edge.

"No." She shakes her head with a small smile. "About a week after I met Ben, I was running late to a movie shoot and I stepped off the crosswalk without looking. There was a car coming and I didn't see it. Ironic isn't it?" She laughs at herself. "I can see the future and I didn't see a car coming, but your grandfather did and he grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me onto the sidewalk, saved my life. And the second my eyes locked with his I saw our future. I saw our wedding, our first house, I saw our son take his first steps and I saw how much I would love him and how much he would love me." She clears her throat for a minute, her fingers tighten on the glass, and her gaze drops to the wedding ring on her left hand. “The future is never set in stone, it’s fluid. It morphs and shapes with your decisions, but in the future I saw, I was so happy. And I didn’t want to lose that.”

Your grandfather had passed a few years ago, but you knew it weighed on her everyday. She had spent the week after he died in her room not saying anything to anyone. And sometimes she'd look out the window into the backyard with an odd expression, but you knew that meant she was thinking of him.

Growing up you'd seen how in love the two of them were, more so than your parents. Seen the flowers your grandfather always brought home just because he was thinking of her, watched him do little things around the house without being asked, saw how they never walked away angry from one another, and seen the soppy expression he'd get when he watched your grandmother move around the kitchen baking with a grace that you'd never possessed.

You reach across the table to touch her hand and she takes it gratefully.

"I didn't want to tell him that I was a supe, and at the beginning I thought I could balance it all, but then Ben started dating Countess." She takes another sip from her glass. "She hated me."

"What? Why?" You ask. The creature crawls across the table to sniff at the glass in front of you, before it snorts and falls into your lap, curling into a ball.

"Countess was a bitch." Your grandmother says mirthlessly, her expression hardening. "She wanted to possess Ben completely. Only loved how famous he was, how popular it made her, and he threw himself at her feet, in his own way, not understanding that love didn’t look that way. He’s never had a good example of it in his life. And she never understood that Ben and I were just friends. By then I had been dating your grandfather for a few months and things were getting serious. It was about a year before everything that happened in Nicaragua."

She presses her lips together as if remembering what happened to Ben there. "She was jealous, possessive, and she came to me one night. Ben was out of town for a film so she knew we wouldn’t be interrupted. She threatened to tell your grandfather who I really was and threatened to kill him.” Her jaw sets. “My powers were never really as offensive as hers were. And she said that Ben wouldn’t ever protect me over her because he loved her and would do anything to make her happy. So I left and I never looked back.”

And here I thought I couldn't hate Countess any more than I did for what she did to Ben.

“You didn’t talk to him ever again?” You wonder out loud.

She left without telling him goodbye?

“There was the occasional phone call. Sometimes Ben would ask me to see who was going to win a ball game or something so he could make a few bucks. He stopped by to say hi a few times because he was in the neighborhood. One time he brought your father a baseball glove that was way too big for a one year old.” She snorts, the memory flashing in her eyes. “I always thought Ben would be a good dad some day. But I think seeing your father was when Ben realized how much he wanted to have kids. And I think seeing the way your grandfather treated me made him start to feel conflicted about Countess. But he respected that I walked away, he saw that I was happy.”

“But what about Nicaragua?"

A dark look crosses her face followed by something that looks suspiciously like guilt. “I saw what they were going to do to him.”

“What? But why didn't you tell him what they were planning? Why didn't you-"

"I tried." She snaps, shoulders tense, but then they drop. "I called Ben, but Stan answered. By then your father was turning two, your grandfather had opened up his practice, and Stan threatened me, he knew where we were and knew everything about us. So I kept my mouth shut and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

You could feel your heart breaking for her.

Ben was her best friend and she had to sit by and watch them do that to him. She saw what they were going to do and they were going to kill her for it, kill my family for it.

The anger that surges in your chest makes the creature in your lap stir and grow a few inches, but you tamp it down before it gets bigger than a small dog.

“Does Ben know?” You ask her to distract yourself.

You didn't want Ben to hate your grandmother for this, didn't want him to hate her for something that wasn't her fault.

She nods. “Yes. I told him everything.”

“When?”

“The moment I saw him in your hospital room. I couldn’t keep it in any longer. I wasn't expecting him to be there, but it all poured out of me. I was so surprised to see him there. I hadn't seen a future where he came back."

“Was he mad?”

I mean… he didn't seem mad when I woke up, not to mention he was upset when she left to come back to Illinois.

“Not at me.” She shakes her head. “He knew how much I wanted a normal life and how much I loved your grandfather. He doesn’t blame me for any of it.”

“Good. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

The glass in front of you is still more than half-full but you don't want to risk another sip of what you're sure is gasoline packaged to look like Scotch. Your grandmother reaches to pour herself another glass.

“I didn’t want to until you were ready.”

“And when would that be?”

Your grandmother shrugs. “Maybe on my deathbed.”

You weren't angry for her not telling you, more surprised, but now that you knew everything about her it was hard to see her the same way you had.

 You snort. “And no one knew?”

“Your dad figured it out.”

“How? When?”

“The moment you made that strawberry plant grow from your high chair.” She shakes her head with a smile. “It skipped a generation. Don’t know why, but you got it all somehow.”

“I was never injected?”

“No. That was a lie your father created. He knew that your grandfather didn't know and he knew that I didn't want your grandfather to know."

“Darren thought I was.”

“I know.”

At the mention of your brother's name, you watch her expression harden and she takes another swig from the glass in front of her, not flinching as the liquid goes down her throat.

“Did you see everything that happened?” You ask in a small voice.

You still weren't 100% sure how it was her powers worked, but you figured that she was able to see some of what Darren did and what he said.

“Yes.”

“You heard everything Darren said?"

“Yes.”

You chew the inside of your cheek for a minute hoping that she didn't take it as hard as you did. “Did you know that he killed them?”

“No.” She breathes, rolling the glass between her hands for a moment. “The night they died, I got a vision a few minutes before the car ran off the road. I was the one who called the police and who told them where to look, but I never saw that it was Darren or that it was anyone causing the accident. All I saw was the three of you in the car. I should have known.” Her voice breaks.

“It’s not your fault.” You squeeze her hand.

“And it’s not yours either.” She squeezes your hand back.

The memories are beginning to float up from the recesses of your mind and your teeth clench together as you try to keep them at bay.

“I know.” You breathe. The memory of the ruined shop flashes through your head. “I didn’t know that I could do something like that.” You gently touch your healed right arm and glance at the creature that is nibbling on the edge of the cardboard box with its sharp splinter-like teeth. “I feel so different and I don’t know how to go back to the way I was.”

“I don’t think you ever will.”

"Really?"

The thought was unwelcome. You were hoping that all of this was going to blow over, but you knew it wouldn't. Your powers had changed. There was an energy that thrummed in your veins now, stretching out of the house to the plants that grew in the garden. You could feel them all if you concentrated.

She frowns. “When you told me that you were working for Butcher I was worried about you getting involved in the supe world. I didn’t want that life for you, didn’t want you to suffer the way I did-“

“Was it really that bad?"

“Not all the time, just at the end. But I think that’s why I loved your grandfather so much. Because he was different than all the supes. He was down to earth, not just normal but-“ She shrugs. “I think Compound V does something to our minds, makes them more susceptible and when you’re surrounded by people using their powers and thinking that they’re gods it’s easy to lose who you are. I was glad I left when I did."

“Great." You huff, thinking about how your powers had grown exponentially since you killed your brother. It was scaring you to think that you would reach a point where you acted like Homelander, where you saw yourself as a god and killed anyone who stood in your way.

As tired as the stereotype of you only being able to make the flowers grow, you liked doing that. You liked healing plants, tending to them, and helping them grow. For you it had never been about using your powers the way that you had to kill Elijah and your brother and had always been about spreading a little more joy and love like your grandmother did with her kindness in her community.

Your mind flashes back to the first night that Ben stayed with you in your apartment and he'd asked you why you worked for Butcher and told you that he thought you "didn't fit."

Before you hadn't. You knew that. You weren't intimidating to look at or fueled by revenge or had a bone to pick with supes. You'd joined because you thought it was the right thing to do and because you wanted to be closer with Annie. She had been so involved in the supe world and you'd felt like you were losing your best friend. When in reality being at "Please Don't Die" was the only thing that felt natural for you.

You could feel yourself changing and you weren't sure that you wanted to and you weren't sure if you were changing for the better. Deep down you still felt like you, despite everything Darren had revealed, but your powers were greater than you'd thought they could be.

“No.” She squeezes your hand pulling you out of your head. “I don’t see you losing yourself in this.”

“You’ve seen-“ Your eyes widen.

“The future yeah.” Her lips twitch up at the ends in a smile. “It is what I do.”

“That’s so weird.”

You hadn't meant to say it, but you really didn't want to know too much about your future.

Well, not all that much. Maybe just a little.

“You of all people have no right to judge what’s weird. Not with Godzilla sitting in your lap.”

"Godzilla" yawns, flashing a mouthful of his pointy teeth, before settling back down on your thighs.

You smile for the first time in twenty hours, but then it drops. “I don’t like losing control. I thought I knew who I was but now I don’t-“ The emotions were bubbling up again, chest tightening, and lungs beginning to gasp for air. “I don’t know who I am anymore or what I am or what I can do and-“

“There’s nothing wrong with not being in control.”

“But what if I hurt someone? What if I kill-“ You body shakes as you think about all the important people in your life, Annie, Hughie, Butcher, Kimiko, MM, Frenchie- and then your mind stutters on Ben.

“Your powers are growing and there’s nothing to be afraid of or ashamed of. If you’re afraid of them it won’t get easier for you. You have to embrace the fear to see the lights that line the path through it.”

"I killed Darren, I killed Elijah-"

"Not because you lost control. You did it because you were protecting yourself and protecting your friends."

"But-"

"Who is it that you're scared of hurting? Annie?" Her expression turns sympathetic. "Annie is a supe and understands what it's like to lose control. None of us are in control all the time and it's ridiculous to believe that you won't lose control at least once."

Your throat clenches tightly, because when she asked the question you didn't see Annie's face, you saw Ben's. You knew that it was probably ridiculous to worry about hurting a guy with a nuclear reactor stuffed in his chest or a guy who'd been through every torture known to man, but you were. And you weren't entirely sure if you meant hurting him with just your powers.

Tears crest and fall down your cheeks as you sit there, throat thickening. "I don't want to hurt Ben."

"He's a little more indestructible than us sweetie." She cracks a smile, but you can't smile back and you don't answer because you're unsure how to.

She sits back against the breakfast nook and sighs, examining your face and slowly realizes what you mean. "Ben is complicated. He always has been. I like to think that most of it, is his father's fault. Has he told you anything about him?"

You shake your head.

"He was a dick. Made Ben think that he was a disappointment his whole life. I don't think that Ben has had someone love him unconditionally since his mother died. And loving Countess only made it worse for him. Her love was jealous, possessive, and I don't think that he's really come to terms with what real love should look like." She lets out a breath, tapping her index finger against the glass. "I never saw him as more than a friend, but I do love him. It's not a crime to love him."

"I don't love him." You say it immediately.

"Why not?"

"What?" You sputter. "I don't know what you're-"

"Tell me why you don't love him." Your grandma says methodically, as if she's trying to talk you through it.

"Because I-" The pressure was back in the back of your throat and you couldn't quite meet her eye. "Because-" You scramble for the answer, trying your darndest to keep your heart from clenching in your chest. "I want what you and grandpa had, what Annie and Hughie have, and what my parents had. A strong relationship with someone who sees all my flaws, the little parts, and the darkness and still choses to fall in love with me anyway. I don't want just one night I want every night. I want something real and Ben has said countless times that he-"

"So you've talked about it with Ben?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Only because he kept trying to sleep with me and I told him that I didn't want to have sex with him." You reply exasperated.

"You don't?"

"Gran!"

"What? He's attractive."

"It doesn't matter. None of it does. Because Ben has said that he doesn't have relationships, that he doesn't care about feelings, or emotions." Saying the words that Ben had told you countless times made something inside begin to shrivel up and die. "And I do. And I don't want to manipulate him into being something he's not or force him into a relationship that's doomed from the beginning. Ben is Ben. He's not changing or-"

"He has." She interrupts.

"What?"

"The Ben I saw in your hospital room is not the one I knew." She says it so matter of fact that makes it hard to breathe. "And neither was the one that I saw in your apartment when I stayed with you. I mean he is in essence Ben, but-"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"He is changing. Not completely, but he's acting differently than when he was with Countess. I mean, I saw all the things he did for her. The way he was around her."

"Why does that matter?"

"Because he loved her."

The words make your heart seize in your chest. "Ben doesn't love me. He's my roommate and my friend-" It was the same thing that you kept telling yourself on repeat to beat back the other feelings that you hadn't quite identified yet. "And he's told me that he doesn't want a relationship and that I should try to meet other people."

That last part was a lie, but you honestly didn't know where she was going with this conversation or why it was getting so hard to breathe.

"Have you thought that maybe Ben doesn't want to love you because he's scared?"

"He doesn't love me and Ben isn't afraid of anything."

"He is. It might not look the same way on him as it does on everyone else, but if you pay close enough attention you can catch it." She hesitates. "And I think if you pay attention to you, you'll see what it is that you're afraid of too."

What does she mean? What the hell am I afraid of? Ben isn't afraid of anything, he's practically shouted that from the mountaintops like Julie Andrews.

"I already told you what I'm afraid of."

"I'm not talking about you hurting someone honey. There's something else that you refuse to admit to yourself because you're scared." She smiles sadly at you. "You should though, because when you embrace it, what comes after is really beautiful." There's a far off look in her eyes and you realize that she'd seen something further ahead that she wasn't letting on.

"And it's all I want for you. To be happy." Your grandmother stands from the other side of the booth "I think you need some rest. You drove all night long and I doubt you got any sleep. And I have to package all of these before Annie's mother calls down the four horsemen of the Apocalypse on me."

"Wait-"

"Please sweetie." She lays her hand down on your arm. "I think you'll feel a little better about all of this when you've had some rest." Her fingers raise to push back some of the hair that's fallen forward into your eyes. "Hmm?"

You didn't want to rest, you wanted to talk about this, but you knew better than to argue with her. Not to mention she was right, you hadn't slept.

"And when you wake up I'll make your favorite for dinner, alright?" She smiles, but there's something behind it that you can't place.

"Okay."

And this time you don't argue with her. You go up the worn staircase that you have your entire life and collapse onto your bed, wondering exactly what it was she saw your future hold, and what it is that you won't admit to yourself.

Soldier Boy POV

There was no light in the apartment save from the burning red tip of Ben's blunt and the bluish glow emanating from the tv that caught the dips and sharp edges of his face. But it was nothing more than background noise.

His hand absentmindedly stroked along Bean's back, his eyes focused on the ceiling above the couch. He hadn't moved in hours. It had been over twenty four hours since everything that happened at the plant shop, since you'd summoned a creature from the depths of the store, since Darren had thrown Ben through the plate glass windows of the bakery, and since Ben had last seen you.

He didn't understand why you hadn't let him take you back to the apartment and why it was that you had to leave. Ben hadn't liked the feeling that stabbed him in the chest when you turned your back on him and ran away. He'd felt the urge to comfort you the way he'd watched Hughie do for Annie in the car a week ago, but you hadn't let him.

Instead all he'd done is stood there and watched you run, still covered in dust, rubble, and blood. Worse was you hadn't let him check you for injuries and Ben hated the thought that you were hurt somewhere and he didn't know where you were.

You were so much more fragile than he was. He was realizing that more every day, was acutely aware of it after everything that happened with Elijah. Honestly, sitting there in the hospital with you laying there asleep with nothing that he could do, but wait for you to wake up had been agony. Not to mention that looking at the bruises around your throat, over your eye, and the bright green cast only made him feel worse. He'd never felt so helpless in his entire life and he hated it. Because Ben wasn't some helpless damsel in distress, he was a man and a man shouldn't wait on anyone or feel out of control, or at least, that's what he told himself.

Ben hears someone walk down the hallway outside the apartment and he perks up to listen, hoping that it's you finally coming home. Ben's mind stutters on the word "home." He'd lived many places in his life, apartments that felt more like way-stations, and the drafty cold mansion back in Philadelphia where he grew up, but neither felt like home. And although he hated how small your apartment was, it was the first place that Ben liked living in. He was starting to understand the word home.

But the feet keep moving past the apartment and Ben sinks into the couch cushions. Even Bean seems to be disappointed. "It's alright buddy." Ben mutters. "She'll come back."

But he wasn't sure.

Ben also wasn't used to feeling this way. It was close to the way that he felt when he went to Boston and was sitting in that damn hotel room waiting for something to happen and he still didn't understand what it meant. He didn't understand why he couldn't stand it that you weren't back yet. It made him feel like a woman waiting for her husband to get home from work when he told her that he was "running late." He'd tried to distract himself by looking at some possible prospects on Tinder, but just like the week after you'd come home from the hospital and just like the date he had in Boston, no one held any appeal.

His mind was awake and roaming around, pacing back and forth. The blunt was supposed to help, but it hadn't.

His phone chirps and Ben picks it up to look at the screen, but it's not you, it's Jake.

Jake: I know that I'm not your favorite person, but thank you for what you did.

Ben huffs and turns his phone face down on the couch once more. "What a fucking pussy."

When you left Ben had realized that Jake was still inside the building and as much as he wanted race after you, he understood that you'd be even more upset if you'd killed Jake. So Ben had tromped back through the building and found him trapped beneath some rubble. Jake was okay, just unconscious, but Ben had carried him out and put him on the sidewalk before he high tailed it out of there. The last thing that he wanted was to be caught with a shredded body outside a ruined building.

I didn't do it for him. I did it for her. Ben thinks to himself, looking down at the text message.

As much as he hated the thought of saving your future boyfriend, he didn't want to see what it did to you if you found out that you killed Jake, so he'd done it to avoid watching you cry again.

Ben didn't understand why he hated watching you cry.

Women cry. They're damn emotional all the time. He tries to reason with himself taking a puff from the blunt pinched between his thumb and forefinger. And she fucking cries way too much.

The image of you crying outside of the shop in the wake of everything that happened pricks something under his ribcage. Fuck.

Ben didn't feel remorse for what happened, well, the only thing he regretted was not getting there sooner and getting to fuck Darren up himself. When Diana had called him to tell him that Darren was coming, Ben had practically ripped the apartment door off in his haste to get back to you. He hadn’t wanted to leave you at the plant shop, but Butcher had told Ben, that he had a possible location for Darren, but it came up empty and Ben had been at Butcher's apartment chewing him out for sending him on a fucking wild goose chase.

It only made Ben more angry to allow Darren to speak to you, but he was trying to let you handle it even though he wanted to handle him. But it had brought him an unholy amount of joy to throw Darren in front of that minivan and to watch that creature tear him apart while the final whitish blue pulses of electricity jumped and crackled down the street making the streetlights shower sparks everywhere.

But Ben was more upset that Darren had been able to land a few hits on you before you killed him.

Ben remembered the giant lizard that crawled out of what was left of "Please Don't Die" and felt his lips quirk up into a smile. As much as he hated the entire situation, Ben couldn't help but feel a little surge of pride at what you'd done to your brother. He'd never seen you look so powerful standing there in the street, your eyes glowing a brilliant green, arms outstretched, and the ground trembling around you as the world begged to be unleashed.

Of course he'd been just as surprised as you were at the fact that you'd healed your broken arm. He wasn't sure if you'd noticed it yet, but you looked different too. There weren't as many lines on your face and your hair was more springy, the few silver hairs that Ben had noticed in passing were no longer there.

He wasn't sure what that meant, but there was something that felt suspiciously like hope tingling in his stomach, hope that you weren't as fragile anymore and hope that it meant you wouldn't die.

When Diana had told Ben that her husband had died, he saw the pain in her eyes when she said it, saw her relieving the memory, and for some reason as soon as she said that he was dead, the first thing Ben thought about was you. Ben hadn't considered his inability to age as much in the past, hadn't cared about outliving anyone before. Seeing Countess as an older woman had made him more aware of it. Looking at the woman who he once thought he loved, had showed him what that was like. Not that he had a problem with daring older women, Ben always thought that women really did get better with age, but it was what came next that Ben wasn't fond of.

And for some reason thinking that one day he'd wake up and see the marks of age on your face or one day he'd wake up and he wouldn't be able to annoy you or hear you yell at him made his chest tight.

Ben takes another hit of his blunt. The longer he sat there the more then unnatural feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach, thrumming through his veins, the feeling that he was trying to avoid. He thought that the joint would calm him down, but he found himself jumping at every creak and footstep in the apartment building, perking up each time and hoping that it was you coming home.

He didn't know where you were. You hadn't answered any of his texts or calls and Ben was ashamed at how many times that he had tried to call you.

Get a fucking grip. He'd thought to himself when he typed out another text message to send you, stopping himself from sending it.

But he'd been so desperate to hear from you that he'd actually gone to talk to Annie who seemed upset that she couldn't get ahold of you either. When Hughie and Annie had seen how upset Ben had been, Hughie had laid his hand on Ben's arm and told him not to worry. Ben had yelled at him that he "wasn't fucking worried and to mind his own business" and had shaken off Hughie's comforting hand before stomping out of the shared apartment.

No one else seemed to be as concerned about finding you. Butcher, MM, and Frenchie were all deeply involved in trying to figure out the cover-up for what happened outside the plant shop. By some miracle no one had caught a picture of your face, but there was little they could do about Darren's body that had been strewn across the street. Annie was having to deal with the repercussions at work, trying to handle what the news was calling a "super villain threat."

Personally, Ben thought that since they froze Homelander, the Seven looked weak and Ben believed that the superhero team that represented America shouldn't look weak. Of course before Ben had also thought that they looked like a bunch of pussies and again felt himself sink deeper into the couch when he thought about what his supposed son had become.

He shakes off the feelings he has about it and his thoughts turn back inevitably to you.

Ben wasn't used to thinking about someone as much as he thought of you, but each time he settled back into the apartment and you weren't there he was hyperaware of how quiet it was.

Maybe I should call Diana. She might know where she is.

As soon as Ben thinks that, his phone begins to ring, but Ben doesn't bother to look at who it is before he answers it. 

"Hello?" Ben huffs out a breath of smoke that hangs in the air in front of his face, catching in the bluish light coming from the television.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The voice on the other side of the line yells at him.

"Di?"

"Yes it's me. Who did you think it was? Santa Clause?" Your grandmother snarks.

"Why are you calling me and why the fuck are you so mad? What did I do?" Ben answers slightly annoyed.

As much as you got under his skin, your grandmother had been the same way. He actually thought that it was amusing that even before he figured out that she was your grandmother that he had often compared you to her in his mind. You had the same mannerisms, the same defiant and stubborn attitude that drove Ben up the wall, and you were just as beautiful as she was.

Ben was okay with admitting that he was attracted to you. To him that felt normal, it was the other feelings that he was conflicted about, the ones that he'd never felt before stirring in his chest that made him feel "too emotional" and "woman-like."

Truthfully, Ben was sure that if your grandmother had given him a shot that maybe he would have felt that way about her too. She was the only person that Ben actually trusted in the 80's, the only person that was brave enough to call him out on all his shit. You did that now. But he liked her husband also, so Ben was content with letting her go. He liked how happy that Henry, your grandfather, had made her. He knew that she wasn't happy as a supe and seeing her so happy and in love made Ben feel something that was close to happiness.

And it was seeing the way the two of them were together made Ben wonder if what he had with Countess was the same thing. Because he did have feelings about her that were different, but each time he went to visit Diana and saw your father playing on her lap he felt that there was something missing in his life.

It was the same way that he thought something was missing when you weren't in the apartment, but Ben hadn't realized that yet.

"Because I don't understand what the hell you're doing!" Diana replies and Ben honestly doesn't know why she's angry with him.

"About what?"

"My granddaughter."

Ben sits up the blunt in his fingertips forgotten. "Is she there with you?"

"Yes." Her voice softens for a moment.

Ben relaxes and leans back onto the couch, sighing in relief. "Good.  That's good." Relief swelled in his chest when he thought about you staying with her, safe.

That's what she meant when she said that she wanted to go home. Home is with her grandmother. Ben stopped the next thought before he could go there.

The thought that home wasn't with him.

Ben was trying not to think about that or think about you hating him. He didn't think you did, well, didn't think you did anymore. At first it really was touch and go, but now he was almost eighty percent sure after you'd told him more than once that you weren't afraid of him and didn’t hate him that you sometimes wanted him around.

"No, not good."

"What do you mean? Is she okay?" Ben's grip on the phone tightens so hard that he's sure that he hears the screen cracking.

"No."

"What happened?" Ben's voice is a growl, the feelings of relief evaporating as soon as they had begun to bloom in his chest. He mentally calculated how long it would take him to get to you.

"Her entire life fucking fell apart and where are you? Not here!"

Oh. Ben relaxed a little bit.

"I don't need to be there." He says on an exhale of smoke.

"Yes you do!" Diana presses.

"No, I don't. She a big girl she doesn't need me there, she's-" Ben takes a puff from the joint.

“If you were any denser you’d be a Bundt cake Benjamin!” She says exasperated.

"What the fuck are you talking about doll? I am not-"

“Let me guess." She interrupts and Ben can imagine her tapping her foot. He hated when she did that. "You’re moping around smoking a blunt on the couch probably with a glass of something that you're hoping to numb whatever the hell it is you're feeling."

Ben's eyes shift to the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table that he hadn't touched in a few minutes.

“I’m not fucking moping and stop spying on me!” He snaps back at Diana.

He hated how well she knew him. She was his best friend in the 80's through all the shit, she had seen him at his worst and at his best too many times to count.

“I don’t have to use my powers to know what you’re doing. I know you Ben.”

"Sorry to disappoint you sweetheart.” Ben grits his teeth, temper flaring hot. “But if you know me as well as you fucking say you do then you then you know that this is-“

“You avoiding your feelings by acting aloof and brooding like a fucked up version of Mr. Darcy.” She interrupts.

She certainly hasn't changed.

“I am not avoiding-“

“She needs you here Ben.” Diana stamps her foot, the same way you do when Ben pisses you off, and Ben can hear it.

“She doesn’t need me! She said that she wanted to go home, that she didn’t want to be here with me! I tried to-“ Ben shouts back standing up. It was the exact thing that he'd been thinking for the past twenty four hours, that you didn’t need him and that you didn't want to be any where near him.

That last thought made an uncomfortable sensation prickle in his gut when he thought it, because all it did was remind him of how you acted when the two of you first met, when you didn't want him to live with you and tried your darndest to make him go away.

He didn’t want to and he wasn't sure why that was.

“Try harder.” Diana interrupts him again and frankly it was pissing him off.

Ben clenches his jaw. “I think that you’ve confused me with someone else baby.”

“Don’t you 'baby' me Benjamin! We both know that you’re doing what you always do when things get hard for you.”

“And what’s that?”

“You pretend not to care and shut out everyone who tries to care for you. Not to mention you drown yourself in drugs, booze, and women.”

“She doesn’t care about me!” He spits.

“She does!” Diana snaps back. “And believe it or not she needs you here and she wants you here.”

"But-"

"Ben please." It was the first time that he'd heard Diana sound softer and almost pleading since the conversation started. "Don't do this to her. She's worth more than Countess and all those other women you've fallen into bed with."

"Do you really think I don't know that?" He roars. The answer surprises himself. "Do you think I don't know that she's different?"

Wait what?

"If you know that, then why aren't you here?"

He hesitates.

Everything you said to him the night of the party comes roaring back. You looking beautiful in a dress that made his throat tight, and you telling him that you just wanted to be friends and that you understood that he wasn't the type of guy to have relationships. He didn't understand why it stung a bit when you said that, but it had.

Ben thinks about the week that the two of you spent together after Diana went home, when he tried his best to take care of you, distract you from everything that happened with his movies, and would sit with you and try to make you laugh. He'd never wanted to take care of someone before.

Not to mention he kind of liked the way you laughed. He wouldn’t admit that to anyone, but each time you did, it made him want to laugh too. That had never happened to him before. But he wanted to make you laugh to forget everything that happened with Elijah. His fist clenches when he thinks of exactly what Elijah tried to do to you and it makes him feel so mad that he feels close to spontaneously combusting. Ben might not be the best role model when it came to women, but he couldn’t imagine the type of man who would force himself on someone else.

It had made him angry when he thought that you were suggesting that he would try something when he first moved in, because he wasn't that type of man.

Ben was trying to be better for you. He wasn't admitting that, but he really was trying to be better. He didn't understand why. You'd told him countless times that you didn’t want to be with him, that you wanted to be with someone else like Jake.

Ben frowns when he thinks about the man he'd pulled from the rubble of the shop. And again thinks to himself that you should be with someone different, someone who was a supe and could understand you. Ben had seen how difficult it was for Diana when she was keeping her supe life a secret from your grandfather and he didn't want you to have to do that with someone.

"Because I'm not-" Ben begins to say, but he holds his tongue. It was too honest, too raw, too unlike him to admit this to anyone.

Because I'm not this guy. Because I'm not the one she wants. Because I'm not some knight on a white horse. Because she's everything right with the world and I'm just a fucking asshole who sleeps on her couch.

"Ben." Diana breathes and he can practically hear her pinching the bridge of her nose. "In all the years I've known you, you've never done what you did for her with anyone else. You carried her out of that warehouse, you stayed with her in the hospital even after she woke up, you took care of her when she came home, you protected her from Darren. You can't ignore all those things."

"I'm not ignoring them. She's my friend." The word sours in his mouth as he says it. "And she would have done the same thing for me." He knew it was true.

She's a good person and she wouldn't let me chase her away if any of that shit happened to me and I told her to leave me alone.

"Yes she would. Because she cares about you." Diana sighs.

"She doesn't."

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Because she's told me what she wants!" Ben shouts so loudly he can feel the room shaking. "She wants to be friends-“

"Because she doesn't think that you want a relationship you nitwit!"

"I don't." Ben spits the words before he can stop them, but as he does something tightens at the base of his throat.

"How is it that it's been forty fucking years and you're still able to dance on the grave of my last nerve?"

Ben chuckles. "I missed you too sweetheart."

She sighs into the phone again making it crackle in Ben's ear. "She needs you.” Diana repeats. “And I think you need her too.”

His temper was flaring again, the thoughts that his father pressed into him surging up before he can stop the words. “I don’t need anyone. I’m Sol-“

“If you say that you’re Soldier Boy, I’m going to reach through this phone and slap you silly.” She snaps. “And you do need her, but you’re still just too stubborn to admit it.”

“I-“

“Ben I know that everything that happened with Countess was fucked up, but my granddaughter she-“ Diana pauses before she changes the thought.  “You say that you know she’s different, but right now you’re treating her the same way you treat all those other women.”

“I’m not-“

“My granddaughter has decided you’re important to her and once that’s happened it’s hard to make her let go. You saw the way she was with Darren and that guy was a manipulative asshole. Imagine what she thinks of you.”

“I-“

“Stop making excuses!”

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say!” Ben shouts.

“And I don’t need to! Think what you want Ben but if you’d stop acting so stubborn and so ridiculously blind to what’s right in front of you. I promise that what comes next is worth the risk.”

“Don’t go all fucking mystical on me doll.”

“And don’t go all macho- no feelings asshole on me! So stop being so damn stubborn, get on a plane and get your ass here.” She retorts. “Don’t fuck this up Benjamin because if you do I’ll fuck you up.”

The line goes dead.

Ben sat there for a minute in the silence still holding the phone up to his ear, listening to what your grandmother said to him ring around in his head for a second.

No one ever spoke to him that way. In fact, Ben had never allowed anyone to speak to him the way that she did, well, not until you came along. You reminded him so much of her that it was astounding and he wasn't going to admit that maybe it's why he liked being around you so much.

Ben frowns at what Diana said, thinking about the unusual feelings that were swirling in the pit of his stomach. He felt wrong and the feelings were odd for him. He hadn't felt anything remotely like this ever in his life, not even for Countess.

And although Ben refused to be afraid of anything, the feelings he was having scared him. He didn’t understand and he wasn't sure that he wanted to. He wasn't sure that he wanted to see where this ended up. He felt like he was in too deep.

As much as he wanted to go to you like Diana ordered him to, he wasn't sure that he should. Something was holding him back, digging it's heels in and refusing to budge.

But why do I feel like-

His phone rings and he doesn't look at the caller ID when he picks up, expecting it to be Diana again, yelling at him.

"Di I-"

But it's not Diana.

"Hello Ben. It's nice to hear your voice again." The familiar voice says, sounding calm and collected.

"What the fuck do you want?" Ben snarls.

 "I thought it was time the two of us had a chat.”

A/N: At this point Diana is really just trying to give both Ben and the reader the kick in the pants they need. And yes I know another cliffhanger, but you know you love it. 🤭😉 We are quickly reaching the end of this series, but that means the confession scene is coming and I am so excited about it!!

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

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[27demos]

everyone adores you (at least i do)

Matt Maltese in Manila, Philippines

Asia & Australia Tour 2023

[slutforleeminho]

heyy, i love your work, i was wondering if you could write a fic based on the song ‘the other woman’ by lana del rey where the reader is the other woman. you could do it about any member :)

this is my first ever request since i’ve been on this app so i hope i did it right 😭

The other Woman • Hwang Hyunjin

thank you so much! i’m so happy that your first ask was on my acc! i hope you like it<3

warnings: suggestive(no explicit smut), arguing, infidelity, toxic relationship, plot twist at the end;)

"I have to go, beautiful." Hyunjin leaned down to kiss your forehead after pulling his pants up and buttoning them. He placed his hand on the side of your face, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. "She'll get suspicious if I stay any longer."

This was normal for you, yours and Hyunjin's little routine. He'd take you out to dinner and treat you like a princess, paying for your meals and anything else you could possibly want. Holding your hand and taking you places you've only dreamed of going, then he'd take you home --your home-- and he'd fuck you like there was no tomorrow. And then he'd leave to do the same things with his wife.

You never understood why he pursued you the way he did when he had someone at home to take care of, but you didn't care enough to bring it up. Why would you? You have everything a young woman could ever want; a young, handsome, rich man who gives you anything you want. But only a few times a week. It's okay though, that just gives you plenty of time to do things that you enjoy like reading and going to museums and admiring the beautiful pieces of art that you wished you could just shove in your bag and take home with you.

"Okay," You said with a tired smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Actually, I meant to tell you, I won't be able to come over tomorrow. Apparently, Violet has a family reunion, and she wants me to accompany her." He stated as he pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his bag from the chair in the corner of your room.

Violet. Such a pretty name for such a lucky woman.

"Oh." Was all you replied with.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, of course not, these things happen," You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into as soon as you entered this relationship, if it can even be called that. "Just text me when you can. let me know when you want to meet up."

"Of course." He smiled.

He kissed you deeply before he left that night, almost making you forget that he had someone at home waiting for him, and you would be left here, cold and alone.

That text that he promised didnt come until a week later.

"I miss the way you feel wrapped around me." Was all that the message contained. You liked to imagine he was talking about your warm embrace, but you knew that wasn't true. He just wanted to feel an unfamiliar body underneath his.

You weren't sure how you ended up like this. When you first met Hyunjin he was sweet and caring, attentively listened to you while you complained about your bad day at work and massaged away all the soreness in your muscles. You can't remember the last time he's taken you out to dinner or bought you flowers. Now you were just his escape from his nagging wife.

You put up with the constant shame and guilt you felt for being with someone who already had their someone, because you thought that maybe his love for you would grow and that maybe someday Hyunjin would realize that you're the one he wants to spend every waking moment with and not someone else. But as your love for him grew your patience shrunk until one day you snapped.

Hyunjin was collecting his things after he had finished what he came here for, which was to get his dick wet and nothing more. "I won't see you again after tonight."

Hyunjin stopped in his tracks and stared at you with wide eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean I deserve more than this. I deserve to have someone's full attention and all of their heart." You held yourself together, determined not to cry Infront of him. He doesn't deserve your tears.

"Baby, what are you even talking about?" He knelt down in front of you and placed his hand on your shaking knees. "Of course, I love you."

"No, you don't," You shook your head. "You love my body, you love having someone at your disposal, someone you can use only for your own pleasure. If you loved me even in the slightest there wouldn't be another woman getting the treatment that I crave so fucking much." All the emotion you've kept stuffed away finally revealed itself in the form of a single tear running down your cheek.

It was silent for a long time before Hyunjin spoke. "I'll leave her." You snapped your head up so fast that it hurt. "If that's what you want than I'll do it." The way he worded it as if it was your choice whether his marriage ended or not made you sick to your stomach, but you couldn't deny that you felt a flutter of hope in your chest that maybe this didn't have to end after all. But you're smarter than that. He says this now, but he doesn't mean it, and even if he did you wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that a woman who did nothing wrong was out there most likely crying herself to sleep while your warm and safe in the love of her life's arms.

"No, be with her. I'll be okay." That was a complete lie but even after everything he's done, you still don't want him to worry about you.

"Please don't do this to me. I love you and I want to be with you. He held on to your legs tighter.

"Funny, isn't that what you told her when you vowed in front of God and everyone that your love for her would be eternal." His mouth snapped shut and his hands left your legs before he stood. He leaned down and before you could register what was happening his lips were on yours. You immediately reciprocated, leaning forward and pressing yourself closer into him. He was so intoxicating, the way his tongue glided with yours so smoothly had you in a trance; you snapped out of it when he placed his right knee on the bed beside you and started pushing you backwards. "No!" you shoved him away. He stumbled backwards but regained his balance quickly. "I'm not doing this with you, Hyunjin. I can't do this anymore, its wrong."

"Since when do you have morals?" His voice was louder this time, he was pissed.

"I've always had them, but I put them aside because I love you!" It was your turn to stand up and look him square in the face. "But the longer we do this the more I realize that this isn't love, its obsession and its toxic. You never loved me Hyunjin you were curious about infidelity, and I was an easy target because my standards were so fucking low that I actually settled for you."

"Fuck this, I don't have to sit here and listen to you degrade me like this." He grabbed his bag and left, but not without slamming the door behind him.

~

The past month has been hell. After laying in your bed for an entire week you decided to pack up all of Hyunjins things and throw them out, the smell of him that was radiating off of them was making you sick to your stomach every time you walked in the room. And then you went to the mall to treat yourself to a new outfit, you wanted something that didn't have any memories of him attached to it. A trip to your favorite coffee shop followed after that. you hadn't been her in a while and you missed the smell of fresh espresso as you walked in the door.

After getting yourself your favorite -a butter pecan macchiato and a small triple chocolate brownie (they were out of doughnuts)- You sat in the best spot in the entire shop, in a little booth in the corner right next to the window, where you could watch the leaves that had no color left in them fall to the ground only to get trampled over by the passing pedestrians. The leaves reminded you a lot of yourself in a way, but you hoped you never had to fall again.

"Hi," a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned to find yourself looking up at a very handsome young man. His hair was blonde, and it came down to his shoulders. he had an apron on, and a big smile plastered across his face, little freckles decorated his cheeks. "I saw you bought one of the brownies, it's a new recipe I tried, and I wanted to ask if you enjoyed it."

"Oh," You blinked up at him. "Um yeah it's really good, maybe my new favorite."

"Oh, thank god," He let out a sigh of relief. "I was worried that it wouldn't be any good. See a couple of the ingredients I use were sold out, so I had to substitute-" He stooped in the middle of his sentence. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I tend to do that a lot."

"No, it's okay," You huffed out a laugh. He was so cute. "Now I'm curious about what ingredients were sold out." You joked.

He smiled widely at you and stretched his hand out. "I'm Felix."

You hesitated but took his hand anyway. "Nice to meet you, Felix."

PART TWO HERE

THANK YOUUU ALL FOR A THOUSAND FOLLOWERS I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO FEEL 😭

taglist: @katsukis1wife @sungprotector @seung-mine @favieee @soephiphanymain @z4hir @minnieslover @kjr-army @caitlyn98s @bangchansbae @fawnpeaks @yumiblogs

[rosyhoneydew]

Bucktommy sickfic | G | 722 words

When Evan sits up around 5:50 Tommy knows he's given up on trying to fall back asleep. He's been tossing and turning for the last hour or so, and trying his best to muffle the sounds of his coughing in the pillows, with little success.

Tommy rolls over and leans up on an elbow, rubbing at Evan's back. He's got a faraway look on his face like his head's feeling slightly fuzzy.

"You feeling okay?"

Evan sniffles and clears his throat lightly. "Yeah." It comes out like a croak and Tommy winces in sympathy. His voice sounds raw and creaky, and not just because it's the first he's spoken all morning.

This isn't really a surprise. Chim had warned the two of them about cold and flu season starting up at Jee's school - not that it ever really ended - so they'd known they were bound to pick up something with all the baking they'd been doing together. Tommy can't wait to have kids, hopefully someday soon, but the germiness will take some getting used to.

Tommy gets up fully, swinging his legs out of bed and grabbing his glasses from the nightstand. He moves to head out into the hallway.

"I think I've got some NyQuil still, it's the capsules though… you're good with swallowing pills, right?"

"Uh, wait, that'll just-" he cuts himself off with a coughing fit. It's dry, but it sounds painful. It's the kind that takes him a minute to get under control again. "That'll just make me more tired," he gets out eventually. "I've got a shift in a few hours."

Not like this, you don't.

"Evan…"

"Tommy," he throws back, petulant.

He and Evan have been together just under a year now. They've been living together for 3 months. They've said 'I love you' and talked about marriage; and if there's any one thing Tommy has learned in this time, it's that his boyfriend wouldn't willingly take a day off work if he were on his deathbed.

He sighs and pauses in the doorway. "Alright, why don't you call Bobby when he's up," he suggests. "See what he has to say about you going in this morning. I'll get you some medicine in case you change your mind."

"Fine," Evan concedes the point, reaching for his phone.

Tommy shakes his head, smiling a little at Evan's stubbornness. He makes his way to the kitchen, snaps off a packet of the blue gel-filled pills, and fills a glass with water from the fridge. It's still dark out, but it's starting to get the kind of green-gray hue of morning light, so he takes just a minute to peek out the window at it.

He's still standing there when he hears footsteps plodding behind him. He gets about a twenty-second heads up before Evan thunks his head onto the center of Tommy's back.

"You get a hold of him?"

"I'm not even that sick," Evan groans. He follows it up with a large, wet sniff that betrays his statement.

Tommy hums and reaches back to thread his fingers in Evan's hair, twisting his head to lay a quick kiss on his temple, contagion be damned. His skin feels hot and Tommy revisits his task of getting some meds in him to break the mild fever and hopefully let him get a little more rest. Thankfully, with the hopes of work dashed, he swallows them down without complaint, nibbling on a few crackers to settle his stomach too.

"Go lay back down, sweetheart, I'll be right there," Tommy says when he's finished.

Evan grumbles a bit but heads back to the bedroom. He's a little wobbly on his feet, and still soft-looking from bed. Tommy can't help but get distracted watching him. There's a fondness that's been present in his chest since they first got together, and it swells in him now. It's almost alarming, the way that it can take his breath away in these moments. Once he hears Evan settle back into bed he shakes himself and clears the counter.

When he enters the bedroom he finds Evan asleep already, snoring softly. He can't help but drop another kiss on his sweaty forehead, thinking of how lucky he feels to be the one caring for this man. In sickness and in health, he thinks and slips under the covers.

-

Happy first day of November! My goal this month is to write at least 2k words every day, so here's the first 700+ I wrote: a teensy tiny BT ficlet.

[gabessquishytum]

Hob is happy serving up good food and feeding people comfort food from his truck -- he's not looking to be famous; Dream is a Michelin star judge who stumbles upon his truck and loves his food.

Dream is used to liking small portion tasting menus with ingredients sourced from yurts or dug up during an irregular moon cycle. Comfort food that "sticks to your bones" is not what Dream eats, even when he needs comfort!

Dream stumbles on this food truck when he gets lost looking for his car after having a forgettable meal at the hot new speakeasy concept that recently opened.

Eating/tasting is a job and Dream is so tired of his function. So when he hears music and people having fun, Dream figures he can at least ask someone where he is and/or get his bearings. What he see when he rounds the corner are people queued up at a funky painted food truck -- laughing, joking?! with someone who is making his food safety hair net look good, and happily eating. The smell hits Dream in the face -- it's so good.

When Dream makes it to the counter, he forgets that he needs directions, hot chef hairnet, is so pretty - engaging smile, the stereotypical tattoos on his forearms, soft doe eyes -- Dream is momentarily speechless. When the chef ask him what he wants, Dream says surprise me (the same Dream who always has a plan when he's eating for his job); he gets a roguish smile and a wink,,,,, and falls a little in love.

Then he tries the food he's handed falls all the way in love.

Oh, this hit me right in the soft spot!! Absolutely love it.

I can so imagine Dream being used to those nouveau cuisine dishes where you get like, a sliver of horseradish, one grain of rice and a sauce made from gold leaf. He thinks that he likes it, that he's reasonably content. But he's never looked at one of those kind of plates and smiled. Not the way he's smiling at the loaded paper plate Hot Hair Net chef just gave him.

He sits a little way from the truck and eats, slowly, carefully. There's pilau rice, delicious curry, veggies that are clearly fresh. Its warm and filling, and Dream can't quite finish it all. But he's still smiling.

And he still doesn't know where his car is. So he goes to the counter again. The gorgeous chef seems to be packing up for the day and he positively beams at Dream. "Back already? I was hoping I'd get a chance to feed you up, but I didn't think it'd be so soon."

Dream blushes and asks for directions, and Hob says that if Dream can wait a minute, he'll walk there with him. His car is over that way too. While Hob packs up, Dream dares to ask about his ingredients, and Hob absolutely lights up while he talks about where he sources his fresh stuff, how much he values his suppliers, and how excited he is to keep building his business. He's got dreams of a restaurant someday, although he dearly loves his truck - maybe he'll do both!

By the time Hob helps him find his car, Dream is absolutely ready to give his heart and soul over on a paper plate. There are spices zinging on his tongue, and Hob has taken off his hair net to reveal an adorable, sexy little man-bun. He's got measuring spoon tattoos on his hands. Dream wants him.

He's back the next day. And the next. He's driving out of his way to get to Hob. Nothing else tastes good. And when he finally, shyly asks if Hob would like to come over for dinner sometime, Hob lights up. "It's about time you cooked for me! I'd love it. And... I'll bring dessert."

When Hob winks at Dream this time, he follows it up with a kiss on the cheek. And Dream’s not hungry anymore. He's just thirsty 😉

[surelynotaspider]

Losing interest

Al-Haitham x gn!reader

-> IN WHICH Al-Haitham loses interest in you and you can't stand it anymore.

-> Wordcount: ~1.1k

Masterlist

Alhaitham has lost interest in you. You knew that. He never confirmed this theory, but you noticed the hints.

Your lover never came home for dinner for the last few months. He's always late, always so late that even after 11pm he's not home. You spent days in your bed alone, even though you two were sharing it. Not even in the morning he had the time to greet you and say goodbye.

He just left. Without a word.

You two didn't have normal conversations either. When you do see him (which would be considered a miracle) he brushes you off. Saying you could talk later. You never did. You never will. He doesn't have time. He has more important stuff to do (What is more important than the love of your life?).

Through your pain you shrugged it off.

He's just stressed.

He doesn't mean it.

Soon everything will be like before.

It's okay, I'm overreacting.

It never did. Matter how much hope you had. It never got any better.

Even the most hopeless romantics lose hope someday.

"Can we talk? It's important." You try your best to communicate with your lover. You woke up before your usual routine just to have a chance of meeting him.

"Can it wait? I have to go to work." Alhaitham again brushes you off with his (now) usual monotone voice. Like he doesn't pay attention to a word you're saying. Just perceive that you're mentioning something not worth listening to.

"No it cannot-" You couldn't even finish your sentence as your partner has already left the house.

It took everything for you to not scream out of frustration. Instead, tears rolled down your face. Uncontrollable sobs escaped your mouth. You covered your eyes with both of your hands as you fell on your knees. What seemed like hours and hours with no end were probably only a few minutes. What happened?

Were you not enough?

Were you a burden?

Did you annoy him too much?

All these things did not matter anymore. You got a new job offer in Liyue a few months ago. Just as Alhaitham's weird behaviour started. You first hesitated. Why would you leave everything you had?

It took everything in you to finally accept the job offer. A break is what you need right now. A new country, a new area and maybe many new friends.

Who wanted you here in Sumeru anyway? It's not like you had any friends.

It was just you and Alhaitham.

Now it's just you and your pain.

Clearly, Alhaitham didn't want you here, so you being gone for a few months shouldn't hurt, right? You leave in 2 days. That's why you wanted to talk to Alhaitham today, but he seemed... busy.

You lay down on your bed and cried into your pillow. Hours passed and you haven't moved an inch. Not even to go drink or eat something. You just laid there and did nothing, but cry.

For the last 2 days you tried to talk to Alhaitham about your leave.

And for 2 days you failed to talk to Alhaitham about your leave.

It was just like the last months. Not one glance. Not one word. Not one conversation. Just you. Alone. Crying yourself to sleep.

You have packed your items for your trip and your transportation was just a short walk away. You didn't bother trying to tell Alhaitham about it.

He clearly doesn't care.

You closed your eyes. Took a deep breath and stepped out of your shared home.

Goodbye, Sumeru. I will see you in 6 months.

And hello Liyue. My new home for the next 6 months.

Alhaitham sighed in relief.

Finally.

He has been busy with so many different tasks and missions of utmost importance for the past months. As the Acting Grand Sage he had now new responsibilities which didn't make it easy for him. Especially after the whole chaos.

But now he was finished. Now he could spend some quality time with his lover. Oh, how he missed you.

He didn't want to tell you about it. He thought it would bring you unnecessary stress and worry. He didn't want that. He loves you with all his being and seeing you sad or mad makes his heart ache to the point it's unbearable. You, his precious angel.

He knew he had been neglecting you for the last weeks. He missed being near you as well. Your touch, your voice, your delicious cooking. Everything.

He was about to make it up to you with a nice date. He knew one date couldn't compensate for all the wrongs he did the past months. But he planned the best date you could even imagine. He even bought tickets for one of Nilou's shows. They were hard to get but Alhaitham knew you liked her so much and used his position and power as the Acting Grand Sage to get the VIP tickets.

"[Name]?" Alhaitham yelled through the house. "Sweetheart I'm home!" No answer.

The Sage looked confused. It was Saturday, you should be free.

Maybe you were asleep? Yeah, that's probably it. You looked very tired the last few times he saw you.

He quickly checked your bedroom. Empty. Weird. You would tell him if you had appointments or meet-up with friends. But you didn't...

In all his worries he asked Kaveh. His beloved roommate.

"Kaveh?" He knocked on the door. As he got permission to enter he opened the door.

"What?" Said roommate looked at him annoyed. Alhaitham however ignored that. It's nothing new between them.

"Have you seen [Name]? They aren't home and I'm quite worried." He announced his worries.

Kaveh stared at him blankly. "Are you serious?"

Alhaitham blinked in confusion. "... Yes? Have I missed a certain appointment today? Was it important?"

The architect couldn't believe it. Was he serious? You left to Liyue and Alhaitham didn't know? He didn't even notice?

"Alhaitham. You're telling me you didn't notice [Name] leaving about a month ago? A month?! Are you serious?!" Neither of them could believe what they were witnessing.

"W-What? [Name] left? Without telling me?" Why wouldn't you tell him? Have you perhaps forgotten him?

"Without telling you?! Are you hearing yourself? [Name] has been trying for weeks to get your attention, but you were oh so busy with work, that you completely neglected them! They left for Liyue about a month ago because they got a pretty good job offer. They tried to tell you but you were so dense you didn't care. Don't come to me and whine about how they didn't tell you because they tried. You can apologise to them in 5 months when they come back. If they even want to anymore." Kaveh scoffed and closed the door right in front of his face.

You left a month ago and he didn't notice?

You will come back in 5 months?

Part 2

Not proofread.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 75 ½ (Where Ash Actually Ages Up!)

He didn't have time to age up in yesterday's episode, so this one's for the legacy's first Gen 3 kid, Ash Landgraab: heir to an empire (but not the legacy). A short post to give him his due, outside storyline.

He went from being a bossy, outgoing, and lovable toddler to a Genius! Take that, Nancy. No private preschool required! This was a random roll, which I'm doing for all the kids who aren't the next gen heir since the heir's traits are pre-selected in the In Bloom challenge.

Ash maxed out everything on his Wabbit Tablet and even used it to learn SSL/ASL (Heather and especially Conrad would have been all for this and I'd imagine the Landgraabs would have been impressed as well), so he immediately started getting annoyed with every TV show that didn't have accessibility options available as soon as he aged up to child.

In addition to being a genius, I don't want to give too much away as to what he's like because all will be revealed in time, but he's five and already has layers to him. He's also about to become a big brother twice over when his mother and stepmother give birth.

We won't see him outside his outerwear for a while because it's almost winter and Brindleton Bay is constantly frozen, so here's a bit of him without his hair under a knit hat. Looks-wise there's a lot of Heather in there though he has his father's eyes (from Nancy!), and I'm so curious to see who he resembles more when he gets older.

He's not the legacy heir, but he is the Landgraab heir, so Watcher only knows what he'll become with a possible centuries-old Landgraab curse hanging over his shoulder. He survived near-death once and it sent Heather and Conrad on a quest to learn everything they could about death flowers, ambrosia, and ghosts to keep him safe, even though they "don't believe" in the curse. Ash is also destined for a lot of money and expectation, and I can't wait to see how he responds to it all as he gets older.

I took some family portraits you might see again in the background on a wall someday, but didn't really serve any particular plot and I wanted to share. From Family Poses by @sunivaa (below). The one above on their patio sofa is from Legacy Pose Pack by Sofi Sparks. They're not for pregnant sims so clipping is my fault, but they worked for what I wanted and thank you for sharing them!

Tomorrow, a quick Harvestfest and life with Ash resumes! We're in the homestretch with nooboo, but Saturday is Heather's due date. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

[saey707]

I SEE YOU HAVE ALREADY SEEN "HEARTSTEEL" I LOVE THEIR INTERACTIONS ON TWITTER AND EVERYTHING (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA) It's cool, just cool :') Well, the point is... could you do a Yone x fangirl!reader? (I've been thinking about an anonymous online friendship and then a BIG surprise when they just meet face to face) Anyway, have a good day <3 -🍄

✿ Prompt: You have a chance encounter with Yone ✿

♡ champion focus: yone ♡ tw: none! ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author’s Note: YES HELLOOO! ૮₍´｡ᵔ ꈊ ᵔ｡`₎ა Thanks so much for requesting! I tried my best to get the premise of your idea in, but I did make some changes to improve the flow of the short and make it more authentic! Hope you enjoy! ૮₍˶ •. • ⑅₎ა ♡

You and Yone met through an online board long before he went off the grid- hell, you met long before Yone even became legendary!

While it wasn't the conventional way to meet someone, you couldn't help but become fascinated by him and all the discussions he participated in. It's not every day you meet a (kind) man so invested in the history of Japanese warriors, DJ'ing, cold brew, and meditating!

You've never met Yone in person, but you figured from his messages alone he was either an old man or a kind soul... Even both. Every email Yone sent you was well punctuated and wise. He always knew exactly what to say, to an extent where you didn't know if he was just researching everything he was telling you or was telling you something based on his life experiences!

The day Yone sent a photo to you was the day you were convinced he was an old man now. It was clear that the photo was printed when he took a picture of it. His long, black hair was neatly kept, and he stood tall and sharp in a suit... Not to mention, there were orbs on the edge of the photo, and his eyes were as red as a demon!

You knew, eventually, your anonymous pen pal would stop replying one day, but it still hurt all the same. For years, you wondered if Yone was okay. You wondered where he was now, what amazing things he was doing. You wondered if one day he would ever email you back again... You wondered if he was dead.

"Hey, Warrior! I know it's been a few years since we last spoke. I know you won't respond, and I don't carry any grudges against you for it. I just can't help but wonder: How have you been? Were you ever able to get that red motorcycle you wanted? Are you still DJ'ing?"

That was the first email in years you sent to him... And you couldn't help but find some comfort in having a one-sided conversation. In a way, it felt like it healed the past few years you were left wondering and waiting.

"Hi, Warrior! You won't believe what happened yesterday: I finally got myself to meditate for 30 minutes straight! I'm still not sure how you can do it for an hour, but maybe someday I can get just as good as you. Hope you respond soon. I miss you!"

It became a regular habit for you to email him, even knowing you would never get a response. But maybe someday he'll be able to see what's going on in your life. Maybe someday, he'll open up his emails and respond to you... It's just wishful thinking.

"Have you seen the new band going viral? They're called Heartsteel! Their producer has the same name as you and even rides a red motorcycle in the music video! Isn't that cool? I know it isn't you, but at the very least I can imagine that it is you. I can imagine it's you out there doing great things with great people. And maybe it makes sense to me now why you won't respond. But just know I'm proud of you. No matter what you're doing out there. I'll email you again in a few days. Bye, Yone."

You sent the email, shutting your laptop now.

Waiting in line for a cold brew, it came as a surprise to you when you saw a man in front of you looking down at his phone, not even realizing that the line had already cut down to his turn to order.

You waited a few seconds... Then another. Then another.

Soon enough, you were annoyed. "Uhh, hey?! It's your turn to order..!" You tapped the man's shoulder, watching as he turned his head to you, confused as he shook himself from the alternate dimension his head was just in.

Your eyes widened as you stared at him for a moment, taking in the intricate details of his face. You recognized the sharp look in his eyes. You were familiar with the shape of his jawline. From the moment you got a good look at him, you knew it was him.

And while it seemed as if he didn't recognize you, the moment you spoke, his eyes lit up. It was you.

"Warrior?"

"Deer..."

[monsterfuckerconfessions]

Part 2 of the minotaur and his chubby wife! :3

Eventually, my husband, my great big beastly husband, will see the fruits of his labors. Those long hours of folding me onto counters, of fingering cum into me in bathtubs, of stopping mid thrust to grab my breasts with hands that could crush me, and savor that they will eventually hold milk. His wishes win.

Someday, he can smell it on me, his nose buried between my legs during a loving session of licking my release out of me, he halts. He sniffs again, he licks once more, and with a grunt, he knows.

What better way to celebrate than to fuck it into me again?

Knowing I'm pregnant and he was the one who put it there unleashes a whole new monster on my body. A kind, loving, and heated monster. He can't help himself. The very thought of knowing what he's done to me has him rock hard each time, and despite the fact that I insist, he worries of hurting me by going too harshly.

I grow a bump quickly, and his beautiful big hands cradle it every chance he gets. His favorite way of doing so is while making sweet love to me. Emphasis on the sweet. His thrusting is nowhere near as feral as before, carefully and tenderly sating a fire in my gut by holding my hips up, hoping to keep me from aching too much as I carry his child(ren). Such a perfect husband of mine, soon he's worshipping everything I do as his 'perfect little wife' and 'perfect mother' for his spawn.

It's barely a few weeks after I give birth to our beautiful sons that he's counting down the days until he can savagely fuck me again.

And that he does.

When I'm healthy and able, he holds my legs apart, ass in the air, as he jerks his fat bull cock against my puffy pussy, watching in my gaped hole, overfucked and overfilled, drinks in the endless cum he pushes in. If it doesn't go in fast enough, If there's not a chance I'm going to bear him more, he tickles at my clit, massaging the lips until I'm quaking. He wants it to take, he's desperate. He needs that pregnant pussy again.

Now that he knows we can make children despite our different species, he wants to populate the world with them.

The moment he comes home, the moment the children are put to bed, and he's certain it's a good moment, he grabs my ankles and pulls them to his shoulders, grinding the flared tip into me with barely any prep. He can't wait. He needs it.

My sweet husband wants it so bad. He wants me to swell, to make more breastmilk, to bear more children, to suck up his cum like a sponge. If he ever thought I'd see an ounce of cum drip out of me again, he'll be eager to replace it with more until he's drained dry.

My poor womb is so full after, I look like he's dumped a bucket into me, bulged out like I'm with child once more.

Only, this time, he doesn't tenderly wash it out of me, he pushes in a plug, somehow wider than his own cock. It burns in my poor little pussy, and I can't get enough of it.

As soon as he's done pumping me, plugging me, filling me, he shoves his fingers against my folds again, searching for my clit as he rubs out painfully overstimulated orgasms out of me. He's read once that an orgasm from the potential mother increases chance of pregnancy, and the sweet feral thing thinks the more orgasms I have, the more babies we'll make.

.

[esmedelacroix]

Christmas Special

surprising husband!miguel o'hara revealing your pregnancy to him on Christmas day⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

1 days til' christmas ← previous part

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You woke up on Christmas morning getting up quickly feeling like you were on top of the world. You got up about to practically skip out of your bedroom smelling the sweet breakfast and coffee Miguel was making.

Until you didn't feel like you were on top of the world and you felt like you were spinning downwards. You had gotten up way too quickly and ate a heavy meal the night prior and now you had to vomit.

As you hurled almost all the contents of your stomach, you heard Miguel's rushed steps and soon he was by your side with a glass of water. You leaned against him feeling a bit distraught that you would have to go through this until you got used to having smaller meals throughout the day and not guzzling water when you were feeling thirsty which was all the time.

Not the best start to such an amazing day but the breakfast that Miguel had made was a great pick-me-up. The two of you went over to sit in front of the tree and open gifts. Miguel had gotten you a whole closet of new clothing, jewelry, a watch, and three new pairs of shoes. The gift that spoke volumes to you was the handmade card that Miguel had made for you.

He always had this skill of being able to make you cry and feel like the most loved woman on earth with a simple handmade card. You wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling your face in his neck. He caressed your hair just happy to see you so happy.

In his card, he wrote about the past week and how all he wanted was for you to be happy during your favorite time of year. About how he loves you so much and is happy that he can call you ‘my wife’. He wrote that he hopes that someday soon you can share your secret with him.

Afterward, Miguel opened his gifts from you. A watch, some cufflinks, a cute apron, shoes, and random clothing had been bought throughout the holidays because you can't stop buying things that remind you of him. He read your Christmas card that explained your struggle with finding him the perfect gift for the holidays but you finally found it. The card alluded to the final gift under the tree. The small rectangular box

Under the tree amongst the torn wrapping paper and gift-wrapping ribbons, sat that same red rectangular box wrapped in dark green ribbon. You picked it up and handed it over to Miguel. He slowly pulled at the ribbon untied the bow, and looked up at you raising a suspenseful brow. He slowly opened the box and put his glass down from the top of his head to the bridge of his nose.

Once he could make out what was in the box he dropped it. He looked up at you, eyes nearly popping out of his skull. He did a double-take looking back down at the box covering him hung open mouth with his hand. "Baby, you're pregnant?" he asked as you could almost hear the tears in his voice.

"Yes, Merry Christmas," you said as you held his arms out to him.

He immediately hugged you, kissing your forehead and peppering kisses all over your face. In between each kiss was a breathful, "Thank you," You had never seen a gift bring him to tears until now.

"I'm going to be a father," he stated aloud forcing himself to believe the words coming out of his mouth.

You knew in any second he was going to ask you to pinch him so you went ahead and did it. "We're having a baby!" Miguel exclaimed as he hugged you again making giggles rise in your throat.

"This is what I've been hiding from you, I wanted to surprise you," you admitted, running your hand through his hair.

"You have no idea how happy you've made me," he mumbled into your chest as his bare warm hands found their way under your tanktop and caressed your stomach. You weren't really showing yet but he couldn't wait to take care of you and see you swollen and carrying a baby he put in you.

"Hi baby," he whispered as he touched your stomach.

"You know I actually had a feeling you were preg—" Miguel started.

"Oh shut up you," you said laughing at his little joke.

This would be you and Miguel's merriest Christmas. You knew the next seven months would consist of Miguel hovering over you and extra princess treatment but you honestly didn't mind. This Christmas wasn't spent as a couple, it was spent as a mom, dad, and child. It would be your first Christmas dinner for three.

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. . .

the end <3

a/n: I hope you all liked this series. I hope you enjoyed your holidays as well. Don't be shy to send me a lil request if there's any other content you'd like to see.

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taglist: @aripet22@to-the-endoftheline@sad-author-san

[thornsnvultures]

mouth to mouth

steve rogers x plus size!reader

summary: steve's technically a new recruit at shield and that means he needs to take the mandatory cpr class. based off of this list of things that steve rogers would historically be unfamiliar with. thanks @itistimeforusalltodecidewhoweare for encouraging the silliness 💗

cw: none, just steve thinking about smooching a little too much

>600 w, divider by @/saradika

"Okay, so after the chest compressions you're going to give two breaths."

Steve watches intently as you pinch the mannequin's nose shut and tilt its head back. The chest inflates as you press your lips to plastic and breathe once, twice. Steve tries not to stare at your lips, pretty and plump. He must have head trauma from being in the ice. Pull yourself together, soldier.

"Remember, thirty compressions, two breaths."

"Right, got it."

You wipe the dummy clean with cleansing wipe. It's protocol but something in Steve's gut wishes you hadn't. Steve squashes that thought as quickly as he can. It's not appropriate. You're doing your job, teaching him how to possibly save someone's life someday. It's important and he shouldn't be thinking about how sweet you'd taste, how soft your skin would feel if he held your cheek in his hand.

"Oh, wait," you stop Steve after his first breath. He freezes when he feels you move in close, your hands on his over the dummy. "The chest didn't inflate. You have to tilt the head back a little more," your hands guide Steve into the correct position and Steve swallows down the whimper in his throat. He feels like a lost little boy all over again. The strong hand of an experienced, pretty woman guiding him, showing him what to do with his clumsy hands.

"Sorry," Steve chuckles. He hopes you can't hear how his heart is racing in his chest.

"It's fine, you're doing great," you smile at Steve and encourage him to try again. He does even better the second time and soon he's finished the short CPR certification course everyone new at SHIELD is required to take.

"You did great, Steve! Hopefully you'll never need to use it," you wink and Steve swears his heart stops. "But it's good that you know the correct technique."

Steve beams at your praise, ducking his head to hide the way his cheeks and how red the apples of his cheek turn.

"It helps that you were a great teacher."

He busies himself with helping you pack up the dummies so he doesn't have to see the way you smile at him. He might just kiss that smile off your face. Would it be inappropriate to ask you on a date? What did people do on dates anymore anyway?

Before he can muster up the courage to ask and screw it all up, you're heading towards the door.

"It was nice to meet you, Steve," you say, lingering a bit at the doorway. The strap of your bag falls and Steve's eyes fall to your pretty fingers, pulling it back up. Images of more inappropriate straps sliding off your shoulders flash behind Steve's eyes and he clears his throat. You're pathetic, Rogers.

"Where 'ya headed next? I can walk you."

"Oh just to the canteen, it's time for lunch. You don't have to, Steve." Your hands fidgety awkwardly, thumbing in the direction of the cafeteria, but your small smile makes Steve brave.

"I don't mind. Maybe we could eat together? Being the new kid at school is tough, no one to sit with at lunch."

You laugh and nod your head. Steve follows you down the hall, doing his best to not sound too excited as he makes small talk with you.

His new phone buzzes in his pocket and he fumbles with it for a second before reading the text from Natasha.

"She's cute ;)"

The two short words make his head whip around until he locates her, laughing at the other end of the hall. Steve's phone pings again but Steve ignores it to answer a question you asked.

"Have fun practicing mouth to mouth, lifesaver."

[strongheartneteyam]

[ credits of the Neteyam pic go to cinetrix ]

Champagne Problems

Part 7

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader

CW: loads of angst, sexual tension, reader apologizes to Neteyam, fluff, Neteyam yearning for reader, physical contact between Neteyam and reader, some humor in Kiri's and Neteyam's interactions, Neteyam and reader miss each other, wounded Neteyam, reader's strong romantic feelings towards Neteyam, jealous reader, Neteyam talks to reader about the na'vi spirituality, reader is slowly starting to trust Neteyam, TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of a deceased family member and reader's feelings about their absence in her life, Neteyam comforting reader. Tell me if there's more, pls.

Again writing in the am... That's one of the only periods of the day I actually have some peace and quiet, so… 🤷🏻‍♀️ what can I say? Your girl does what she can. lol hope y'all enjoy this. Comments would be very appreciated 🤍 ps: there's just so much angst in this damn fanfic that I can never write it without getting emotionally destroyed 🥲 send help

Slightly proofread. There might be some mistakes along the way. I can't do more than that now bc it's past 5 am, I still didn't get any sleep and I'm dying 💀💩 love y'all ❤ bye I'm gonna try to sleep now

Part 6: I tried to hide but I still believe

𓇼

So many questions but I don't ask why

Maybe someday but not tonight

Hush hush, now

Don't you ever say a word of what you ever thought you heard

Don't you ever tell a soul but you know

I tried to hide but I still believe that we were always meant to be

And I can never let you go

No

Hush Hush (Avril Lavigne)

𓇼

You weren't quite sure what to do now. Your heart was pounding as nervousness covered you and there was an ache, a burn inside your chest.

You decided to close your eyes again and pretend to be asleep. You didn't know if Neteyam had noticed you there or not but you were praying he hadn't.

"Brother? Why are you back early?" Kiri questioned as she held a wooden green bead between her index finger and her thumb. All Kiri could think about was "Oh, Great Mother, this is gonna get really awkward really soon."

"Hi to you too!" Neteyam joked and Kiri rolled her eyes at him "I got bitten by an animal. No big deal, though." He tried to calm his sister down when he noticed the concern in her features "But as it was in my arm, I couldn't really go hunting with my friends for at least two days because it's swollen, so… I'm back early. There's no fun in being there for longer if I can't join the hunting competitions with the boys." Neteyam laughed it off but the bite was still hurting in a pungent way that bothered him a lot.

Kiri laughed "Yeah, I see. And I bet grandma was healing you with those herbs that make the wounds burn even more that you hate so much and you couldn't wait to get on your Ikran and fly back here, right?"

Neteyam frowned but he was chuckling too.

"Yeah, you got me." He scratched his head. It was a habit of his. "By the way, can you help me out with the bite, sister?" He asked

Kiri sighed in disappointment "Why didn't you send for Ronal? I'm kinda busy here." She signaled with her head towards her hands that were holding her necklace

"I don't wanna disturb her sleep. She might try to drown me." Both siblings started to laugh "Plus, you're a great healer." Neteyam defended himself and stroked his younger sister's ego

Kiri let out a grunt.

"Ok, then. Sit down and I'll help you."

"Thanks, teylu." He teased

Calling each other "teylu" was Neteyam's and Kiri's favorite way to insult one another. You know, it's a sibling's thing.

"You're the teylu here!" Kiri snapped back but in a playful way "Bothering me in the middle of the eclipse… did you know I have guests? Be quiet, they're asleep." Kiri said in a hushed, low tone as she gathered the medicinal plants she kept in her marui and the water she needed to mush together to make a healing substance and apply on Neteyam's wound

"Who are you talking about?" He chuckled "Is Tsireya and some other friend of yours spending the night here?"

As soon as Neteyam heard your name come out of Kiri's lips, his mouth got dry and he felt his heart skip a beat. Neteyam gritted his teeth, his jaw tensing up. He couldn't believe you were there. He couldn't believe he was gonna see your face again. Neteyam had started to wonder if maybe you had found a way to not come back to his tribe because of your job ever again after your team started to show up there without you multiple times. He didn't know if he should be sad or happy that you were there in his sister's home. To tell the truth, there was a mix of both emotions moving in an agonizing little dance inside his chest. He missed you like crazy and he had been dying to see you again but he knew that as soon as he looked at you again and saw your small frame and smelled your unique scent, he would find it utterly hard to resist taking you in his arms and kissing you. Yes, Neteyam was still hurting a whole lot and he was still a bit angry at you, but, Eywa… he felt like a piece of him was missing ever since you left. The yearning to feel you against his body again was bigger than the wound in his ego. So, Neteyam had to make a big effort to keep himself together and not run to the tiny but hugely beautiful girl he now recognized as being you, sleeping in one of the mats on the floor of his sister's marui. 

Neteyam had no idea you were actually awake and listening to the conversation he had been having for some minutes now with Kiri.

𓇼

Kiri had now taken care of Neteyam's wound. It was on his biceps.

"Damn, it must have hurt a lot… Poor him…" You thought.

You breathed in deeply and breathed out, trying to gather courage to do the next thing. You got up from your mat, your legs carefully avoiding Adeline and Kate, as their bodies were lying right next to where you were lying before. 

You walked towards where Neteyam and Kiri were. She was finishing putting away the healing materials in a straw basket while squatting. 

"Hi." You sheepishly greeted Neteyam "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

His feline yellow eyes lingered on you for a second, like he was trying to find a way to respond, but it was difficult to do so.

"Sure." It was all he could say

Kiri gazed rapidly at the both of you "I'm gonna give you guys some privacy." She could feel what you guys were gonna talk about. 

All of you were keeping your voices down so your conversation wouldn't wake the girls up.

Kiri quickly got out of her marui, leaving you and Neteyam "alone" (Technically, Kate and Adeline were there too, even if they were asleep, nothing could guarantee that they wouldn't wake up).

You sat down next to him on the floor, feeling awkward and guilty.

"I'm sorry I was rude to you that morning after the party. I didn't mean to be. I didn't mean to… I don't know, to be so blunt, to be so… cruel when turning you down. I really am sorry. I understand if you're mad at me. I deserve it." 

"I wasn't mad, I was… hurt." Neteyam admitted 

"You were a little mad." You insist with an awkward smile

"Yeah, my pride was hurt. As I said, at the end of the day, it wasn't anger, it was pain." There really was pain in his face, even now

Damn, now you felt even worse…

"But we can just forget about it. It's in the past now. I accept your apology." Neteyam smiled to hide the part of him that was still screaming at him to ask you once again to be his mate. Maybe this time you'd say "yes"... Damn, who was he kidding? He knew it was just stupid wishful thinking.

"Thanks for being so nice to me even after I was such a jerk to you… You didn't have to forgive me, you know." You gave him a sad smile

"Of course I have to. You deserve it. You deserve so much more." He smiled back, sheepishly 

You sighed internally. Why did he have to always be so nice? That only made your heart hurt more and more for rejecting him that morning after the beach party. But it was for the best. It's better if you and Neteyam share nothing but a friendship. You would never wish to taint him with all the turmoil of negative emotions and traumas you carry around wherever you go.

"So… Can we… be friends?" You asked, fearing the answer that was coming

"Of course, tawtute." Neteyam confirmed as he smiled kindly at you "I'd love to have you as my friend."

A few seconds of some awkward silence later, you tried breaking the ice.

"So… I saw you talking to Munì. How's she doing?" The words left your lips before you realized it, leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

Way to go, (y/n)! Worst possible way ever to break the ice!

Neteyam's hairless eyebrows frowned. 

"I don't know. I haven't talked to her since that morning."

"Really?" There was way more anger slipping out of you than you had anticipated. "I saw the way you two were smiling at each other. You really did not talk to her after that morning?" Why were you questioning him like that? Jesus…

God, you didn't even have the right to be angry! Neteyam wasn't your boyfriend or anything like that. But still, jealousy was eating your insides.

Neteyam laughed at the question, realizing you seemed jealous and bitter about it. But it seemed too good to be true. Did he really still have a chance to win your heart? Eywa knows he would never give up on trying to get you if he knew he had even the slightest of chances with you.

"Tawtute, I was just talking to her. You have to stop assuming things about people!" He smiled at you showing no teeth while shaking his head from side to side, showing you how silly your bad habit was "Actually, I was trying to be nice to her to not break her heart too much because yes, she was flirting with me but I wasn't interested."

You felt blood run to your cheeks.

"But you guys seemed so happy…"

"I was just being nice to her." Neteyam reinforced "I promise. Do you trust me?" He asked gently 

Unfortunately, the first instinct that came to your head was "Don't believe him. He's lying to you. You saw what you saw." but this time you were able to actually think a little more, be a little more rational and wonder "What did I actually see? Neteyam was really just talking to Munì. I didn't see him touching her or kissing her or anything. OK, she was smiling and clearly flirting with him, but that doesn't matter. Just because she was trying to charm him, it doesn't mean he was being charmed by her. All I saw was him treating her nicely and smiling at her and Neteyam is usually nice to everyone. He's right… I should trust more freely."

You looked at Neteyam and breathed deep.

"I do." You gave him a coy smile and he smiled back, this time revealing his big sharp fangs to you as his lips parted.

Damn, why was he so freaking hot? Ugh!

𓇼

After some time spent talking to each other, Neteyam took something out of a small dark brown pouch bag.

"I made this for Tuk" Neteyam said, holding an oblong piece of wood with an image of a Viperwolf (or a Nantang, in na'vi) carved in it. "She loves Nantangs."

"It's beautiful. You're talented." You smiled at him

"Thanks." Neteyam smiled back, his golden eyes squinting slightly at you 

The gift Neteyam had made for Tuk reminded you of the gifts you and Tracy would give each other. You used to make colorful bead bracelets and give them to her. She would get so happy and smile widely at you. Your heart would feel warm. After she grew up a bit and wasn't a small toddler anymore, she started to make you some and give them to you too. It became a sisterly tradition for the both of you.

God, how you missed her… Your chest started to hurt and a lump was now in your throat, making it harder to breathe.

Neteyam noticed.

"Are you OK?" He asked, concern all over his beautiful features 

You started telling Neteyam how your little sister had died in the car accident. You finally let your defenses down to the point that now you felt comfortable to tell him not just that but also how you felt agonizingly alone and lost after her passing, as you both had a strong, pure bond. Tracy used to be your best friend.

"I loved being her big sister, giving her advice and taking care of her. I miss all the nights we would stay up eating candy and watching stupid teenage movies because she loved them so much." You reminisced through tears

Neteyam related deeply to you, on how it felt good to be the older sibling. All he could do was thank Eywa that he still had all his siblings alive, safe and sound. Thinking about losing little Tuk, Lo'ak or Kiri like you lost Tracy made his chest hurt profusely. He could only imagine your pain. He knew he could never actually know how much it must have broken you in pieces to see your little sister for the last time, paler, no longer breathing, but he felt so, so much empathy towards you.

All Neteyam wanted to do was hold you tight and make all your pain go away. He knew he couldn't get rid of all your sorrows but he would surely make his biggest effort to fight away all the demons he would be able to. 

"Eywa, (y/n)... I'm so, so sorry about that. I can only imagine how much you must miss her. I know I would if I lost any of my siblings…" Just the thought of that made his chest hurt a little bit "You know, my people have a saying about death: All energy is only borrowed, and one day you have to give it back. I don't know if it gives you any comfort but I think it's a good way to view the passing. It's not the end. Your sister's body helped plants grow on the ground she was buried in, did you know that? A part of her still lives inside the leaves or the flowers or the grass there. I'm assuming Earth's ground works like Pandora's ground does." He chuckled slightly, trying not to seem disrespectful 

"Neteyam, that's actually… really comforting. And beautiful. Thank you so much." You smiled at him and felt an urge to touch his hand to show him your gratitude but you thought it was better not to do it.

Eventually you fell asleep, back against the marui's wall. Neteyam carried you to your mat in his arms, carefully, just so he wouldn't wake you up, even though you seemed to be in deep sleep. He softly laid you down on your mat and felt the urge to kiss you goodnight but he knew he couldn't. And it broke his heart not to do it because he loved you with all his body and soul.

Neteyam quickly left Kiri's marui and headed to his family's home, trying hard to forget your beautiful sleeping face all the way until he got there, trying hard to forget your unique and addictive scent, the way your lips felt just like the inside of a rose when you both had kissed, the way it felt to mate with you and feel your soft human skin against his… It didn't matter how much he tried, he would never be able to forget you. Your name was tattooed on his heart.

𓇼

Taglist:

@iman-lu

@leaveitbythewave

@creepytoes88

@live-laugh-neteyam

@swaggygurlbae

@neteluvr

@layla2-49

@a-blog-name-2003

@lala-1516

@jakesullyfatjuicypeen

@yeosxxx

@iaratezaewa

[yumeka-sxf]

I was surprised we got another Yuri-focused chapter so soon, considering we just finished the Mole Hunt arc...but it was a good chapter nonetheless!

Chloe is a great character to help with Yuri's development, the reason being because she not only knows his true identity, but she also has known him for many years, as this chapter reveals. Unlike his superiors, Yuri seems more comfortable with Chloe, probably because she doesn't have authority over him, but she's also not afraid to point out his flaws. So yeah, I'm glad she's becoming a reoccurring character. Yuri really needs someone he can talk to with whom he doesn't have to hide anything from, but who also sticks with him despite knowing how cringe his personality is. I do hope we'll see more of Chloe bringing out Yuri's relatable side in the future.

Speaking of which, Twilight has Franky (and Sylvia somewhat) who fills this role for him - someone he can talk freely with who knows his true identity, but they also sense the goodness in him that he tries to hide. Yor, however, doesn't have anyone like this, at least not yet. Olka filled that role well during the cruise arc, but it's very unlikely we'll see her again. While McMahon and Shopkeeper know Yor's true identity, their relationship with her has been very business-like, not casual like Twilight/Franky and Chloe/Yuri. It almost seems like Melinda could fill that role for Yor, except for the important detail that she doesn't know Yor's true identity...OR DOES SHE???

Anyway, back to today's chapter, we find out that Yuri can also withstand getting hit by vehicles, and both siblings can smell/sense the other's presence!? And yet, a slap from Chloe hurt Yuri more than getting hit by a truck?! I would say that's too much, but I guess it's not that unusual for characters in shonen series 😅But I have to agree with Chloe on this line...

I also find it a bit sad that Yuri thinks Yor wouldn't like the idea of him having a girlfriend. I wish they discussed more about this, but it just goes to show that, as close as Yuri and Yor are, there are some very obvious things about each other that they don't know. Of course we as well as Chloe know that Yor would be happy if Yuri is happy with a girlfriend, or any friend really. But to Yuri, it seems like having an intimate relationship equates to not being diligent enough at his job, maybe? Or maybe he thinks Yor would see it as a betrayal of his dedication to her? Either way, he's flat-out wrong about that obviously. Hopefully he'll realize it someday.

I cracked up when we got the glimpse of all the Yor photos in Yuri's house 😂 I hope Anya visits his home one day...would love to see her expression about this! (also he names his attacks after Yor too, I can't 🤣)

Even though Yuri misunderstood what Chloe meant when she told him not to be so reckless, by the end of the chapter he did have a thought on his own about how getting rid of Loid would make Yor sad. Of course he tries to deny that by bringing up the gripes she supposedly had with him, and of course Yor, who's always so flustered about her feelings, can't straight up tell him that she likes/loves Loid. So back to square one I guess...?

But even though this chapter may turn out like the last one and just be a standalone that doesn't lead to the next big arc, I can't help but think it's hinting at a "Yuri discovers who Twilight really is" scenario. For all we know that could be the first identity reveal of the series. It makes sense since, unlike identity reveals among the Forgers, this wouldn't necessarily result in the series heading towards an end. Even if Yuri discovered Twilight's identity, he could choose to keep it to himself for a while and nothing else would change. I don't like to speculate too much, but I feel this is a possibility with all the "Yuri vs Twilight" mentions we've had lately.

As always, just gotta wait and see!

[mooncalf87]

I could talk about Hetty and her death for hours. I could. And I have. And I will. Hetty rant under the cut if you please DFSDGSFDDS

I honestly don't even know where to begin with this. I have so much to say about Hetty to the point that I woke up at 4a.m today because I couldn't stop thinking about her.

Hetty is an absolutely magnificent character. First off- She is a Victorian Woman. Women back then wernt treated like people. They were thrown around, used and abused, before being thrown away. Hetty was forced into a marriage (with her cousin, none the less) and was forced to be the perfect high-class image her entire life.

She was probably forced into having Thomas, but even though all that, she cares about him. She killed herself to try and secure him a safe future. She thinks Thomas must hate her- resent her for what she did to herself and how she treated him- but you can tell the opposite is true. Even after Hetty is long gone, Thomas still went to her for advice. He asked her if he should marry a lady he was seeing, and he didn't know, but Hetty was there and she cared.

Hetty had all these windows put up around her for all her life. Windows specifically because you can see her, but you can't touch. You can admire, but you can't love. You can see the display version of her that was put out to see, but you never get to see the Real Henrietta Woodstone.

Until Hetty died, and met the Ghosts. Slowly, one by one, they broke down these windows and Hetty was finally able to become herself. She allowed herself to enjoy the afterlife- to indulge in everyday things like TV, smelling foods, sex, jokes and laughing, and so much more that she wasn't ever allowed to do when she was alive.

She allowed herself to love and to be loved.

She made connections with the ghosts, she had a best friend, she had arguments and betrayals, she allowed herself to feel real love for Trevor. She did this all because she knew she had nothing to fear, that no one would be able to come back and hurt her.

But then Elias came back. Actually, it turns out he had been there the entire time. Waiting and listening the entire time, underneath the very house that Hetty was haunting. Though all the years she felt safe and at home, her terrible husband was there waiting the entire time.

They were able to get rid of him, but I can only imagine how terrified Hetty must've still felt. All this time that she felt safe, he was there.

But still, she allowed herself to live, even after this. To change and grow, even though she is a hundred and fifty years old. We have watched her experience new things, we have seen her get a chance to live again through the Arondakers and their BnB.

Then, Flower got sucked off. Or so they thought, anyways. The house wasn't the same without her, whether they liked it or not- they were incomplete. Until they found out Flower had been down a well this whole time.

Desperate to get Flower out and back to the group, Hetty revealed her deepest darkest secret. Her death- suicide. She killed herself to try and save family, but then she finally let the secret of her death out to do the same thing. She saved family.

No one knew, either. Pete knew they had a telephone, Hetty even talked to him about it. When Hetty told him about her phone, all along, she had those cords tight on her neck underneath that dress. And no one knew.

Her and Trevor were having sex for MONTHS, and they probably will again someday soon. But still, he had no idea. Not once did he see those marks or that cord, not once did he ever ask any questions.

I imagine that Hetty was glad. Glad that her shameful secret could hide safe under her collar. But I think she was also hurt. Hurt that a man she has spent countless hours with doesn't realize that there is a secret under there. She works hard to hide it- the fake story made up about her Morphine induced death, so Trevor would truthfully no reason to question it- but Hetty is only human.

She feels real sorrow and real pain, but she still hides some of it. When she pulled down that collar, you can see that she is looking at Isaac. Isaac watched her grow up and pass him in age, Isaac knew her from when she was just born, Isaac is her best friend.

She looks away and looks at the ground, you can see the fear in her face. Fear that no one will treat her thr same anymore, fear that all she will be shown is pitty and apprehension. But that's not what happens. They don't pitty her, but they try to help her. She is their friend, and they don't care how she died a hundred years ago, all they care about is who she is now and if she is okay.

...

...

...

OUGH HETTY MY BABYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY AUSGHHHH

[argentisbeloved]

Late Night Thoughts

pairing(s): gepard x gender neutral reader

cws: gepard talks down about himself a bit ):

notes: first post!!! I hope you guys enjoy!!

word count: 514

Gepard opens the front door to a quiet and dark house, the light from the moon and nearby streetlights illuminating the room, but only slightly.

As he walks to your shared bedroom, he can see the light through the cracks of the door. He sighs, you must've stayed up late waiting for him again. Pushing the door open, he sees your curled up figure sleeping on top of the fully made bed.

It never sat right with Gepard whenever you insisted that you were okay staying up late for him, because it was clearly tiring you out the later into the night his shifts were. Seeing you like this made him feel guilty that he wasn't there with you, sometimes even for the entire day.

He quietly gets changed, removing his armour and being extra careful to not drop any of it so that you wouldn't wake up. Once he's done changing, he returns to you, gently picking you up and pulling back the bedsheets to set you in comfortably. Once he's done that he goes to his side of the bed and settles himself in, not before turning off the lights.

Gepard brings your sleeping body into his arms, cuddling you closely and burying his face into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

The guilt from earlier resurfaces into his mind as he picks up on how your body relaxes against his. You must've been cold waiting for him, so why didn't you get into bed? Were you waiting to go to bed together? that thought made Gepard feel worse.

He wanted to spend more time with you, going on dates and cuddling each other, as well as many other things. But he couldn't be home as much as he'd like to be, as his job was very taxing for him, and whenever he had a day off he'd never be in the greatest mood to do anything fun with you.

You always insist that it's fine and that you don't mind, but Gepard just can't help but put himself down for being such a bad boyfriend to you. Even if you don't mind that he's not in the mood to go to a new cafe that just opened up, or that you don't see him all day for majority of the week.

He doesn't deserve you, you're way too good for him.

Gepard cuddles you closer, tangling your legs with his and leaving no space in between you both. He stares at your peaceful expression as you sleep, tracing the outlines of your features with his fingers. He moves to hold your hands, to look at your empty ring finger.

He'd really like to put a ring on there someday.

But for now, he'll fall asleep with you and pray that he gets a day off anytime soon. To shower you in the love and affection that you deserve and the love and affection that he hasn't been able to give you recently.

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, whispering a goodnight and finally drifting off to sleep.

[differenteagletragedy]

Based on what happens when you have feelings for Baxter in Step 4 but turn him down when he confesses his love for yooooou :)

Nights had always been hard for Baxter. They were when he felt most alert, sure, but being alert also meant being aware. And for Baxter, that meant being aware of how alone he was.

But ever since he reconnected with you, nights had become something he looked forward to.

It had been a few months since you and Baxter had run into each other in the days leading up to Jude and Scott's wedding. It had only taken days for him to fall back in love with you, or rather to admit that he'd never actually fallen out of love with you, but you were more hesitant.

"I'm sorry, Baxter, I can't," you told him after he confessed his feelings to you. "Maybe someday, but right now..."

"I see," he'd replied, and he did see. It hurt, of course, but he understood perfectly why you weren't ready to jump into a relationship with him.

But you'd left the door open for a reconciliation. And he wasn't going to miss his chance again.

Things started out slow -- after your late night conversation in the office, he took you back to your apartment and walked you to your door like the gentleman that he was. The next day, you'd invited him to hang out with your friends, something he was so thankful for.

He didn't want to come on too strong, to appear too excited to actually have people in his life, so he waited a few days to ask you out for coffee. He sent you texts sporadically, and when you answered he agonized about how long he should wait to reply.

But as the weeks went on, you spent more and more time together. The natural flirt in him came out more, and he started noticing you being more responsive to it. It was a wonderful feeling.

Soon, you spent more nights together than you did apart. Not full nights -- though he was desperate to have you in his bed, to hold you, to wake up with you in his arms -- but evenings. When you were both done with work, you'd come over to his apartment and he'd cook dinner for you, or he'd come over to yours and take you out. Sometimes after you'd go dancing, sometimes you'd watch a movie.

As time went on, the dances got more and more intimate in tiny little increments. You sat closer together when you watched TV, and paid less attention to plots and more attention to each other. It took longer to say goodnight.

One night, you were over at his place for another homecooked meal. He was by the counter, putting the finishing touches on a dish before he put it in the oven, and you took the opportunity to put on some music, looking back at him just in time to see him smiling.

Baxter slid the pan into the oven, set a timer, and turned to you. With a dramatic flourish, so silly it made you laugh, he bowed and extended his hand to you. When you took it, he pulled you in close. Closer than people who were just friends would dance.

"May I let you in on something?" he asked softly after a few minutes. You pulled back to look at him and saw that his cheeks were pink, but he was still wearing a small smile.

"Of course," you answered.

"I just wanted you to know -- it felt important to let you know -- that while my feelings for you remain the same, I'm not doing all of this because I'm expecting any sort of return," he said.

"What do you mean?"

He paused for a moment, the same smile, almost pained, remaining on his face. You felt him give your hand a squeeze, then he said, "If you were to one day return my feelings, that would be wonderful. But I'm not spending all of this time with you because I want to woo you. This means ... you mean more to me than that. Even if no romance were to ever blossom between us again, these moments with you have meant more to me than I can possibly say."

You took a beat to consider what he said. You took him in, the consummate gentleman in front of you who you'd fallen in love with all those years ago and who managed to work his way back into your heart after breaking it back then. He was being sincere in saying that all of that -- you knew that. And it meant more to you than you ever could have imagined.

"Baxter," you began, moving your hand to toy with the collar of his shirt. He hummed in response, and you said, "What if I want you to though?"

"What if you want me to what?"

"Woo me."

For the first time since he began talking, his smile faltered. His feet stopped moving, so you stopped with him, and slowly, the hand that had been holding yours moved to cup your cheek.

You gave him a small nod, and he closed the distance between you.

Baxter hadn't been lying when he told you that he'd become quite the impressive cook, but that night the dinner he'd prepared for you went to waste. By the time his timer went off, clothes were strewn around the kitchen -- he barely remembered to put on mitts when he pulled the dish out of the oven, shirt off, hair a mess and pants unbuttoned and hanging loosely around his hips. It set on the counter, forgotten, as he led you towards his bedroom, but you only made it as far the couch before your hands found their way back to each other.

He'd had to wait for you to be ready to welcome him back into your heart, but that was fine with him. He was a patient man. And the next morning when he woke up, still pressed against you, feeling your warmth, he was overcome with emotion. For this, he would have waited a lifetime.