#i'm still not at home but i am at least in one place?
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They were probably talking about people not being able to afford heating or having a decent place to live. Like, I know everyone - but the people who actually lived through it/had talked with their grandmas and grandpas about their childhood and youth - believes USSR was some kind of paradise, ditto with communist China. Nobody talks about slavery, about not having enough food to eat - and I am not talking about the famous famines/Holodomor even, just the scarcity of food, unless you are in the party elite - about how people were forced to live in barracks (not like military type barracks, but the cheap flimsy dirty cold type of communal housing with no central heating, no water, not even an indoor toilet)
"oh but USSR gave people free flats" unless you are talking about flats former owners of which, say, Jews, other minorities and types of enemies of the people, were arrested and shot or imprisoned in slavery labor camp prisons (to escape which people even resorted to cannibalism at times... This remark is directly to people who compare USSR prison system to the US one and even find the US one more harsh. How to put it? Prisons in most countries formerly occupied by Soviets are way better than back then, and excluding some more EU oriented countries, the inmates are pretty jealous of the US' prisons conditions, let's put it this way) - so their flats were freed up and up to grabs.
And sure, some people would get those flats, but not everyone.
This is called socrealism not because it realistically and truthfully depicts what's going on: a woman from lower class with a lot of children gets to have amazing luxurious flat, leisure and conditions to grow houseplants, raise a cat, buy a deficit radio or bike - all thanks to Stalin. That wasn't the reality of most of USSR citizen, especially working/farming class (which her hairstyle suggest she's from). That's a carrot they hanged before your nose.
The reality was, even if you got an apartment built by the government, this could have taken years. My family, for example, worked for thirty years before getting a 2 bedroom for six people. And my gran was what they called then, an invalid of childhood (meaning, she got a work-impairing disability from the childhood, thus she was supposed to get more social help from the government. Yeah, right). She didn't have a light job either. She was working full time. My dad, on the other hand, was doing one of the most difficult and health threatening jobs ever.
But hey, you will say, it's still a free flat! I'm in the goddamn capitalist corporate hell America, and I am paying thousands of American dollars to rent!
I feel you, Buddy, I don't have a home of my own either. With the war, I never will - I am pretty sure I will die faster than I can save for a downpayment.
But free flats weren't really free. You were still paying for them, with your labour being the least of it, bc your labour was underpaid. Like, you guys have 401K or something, right? Well, imagine you from now on have to get a pay cut, with your employer keeping most value of what you created, to themselves, and using some of it for a housing fund, where you may or may not get a flat for your grandchildren somewhere down the line. If you don't die earlier or become an enemy of the state or just being not very liked or socially adept person. "Capitalists still do that! We work, they enrich themselves! And now I can't afford to buy a flat!" so yeah, you're basically saying that there's no difference between capitalism and communism, you're still exploited in communism. You get that, right?
So yeah, you would have to pee a lot because you don't have money for charcoal or access to the market - and will be thrown into jail and or short for buying it on the black market - under maoism. And you would have to live in flimsy housing with lotsa spiders because you have to work dozens of years to build a whole apartment building by the cost of your labour, before you get even one room there.
(and that's if you don't piss someone who is sitting on the apartment distribution channel, because oh well. No housing for you, comrade)
I'm glad you two at least did not make fun of settler colonialism.
to be fair i dont know much about communism but i dont remember ever heard of something like that being part of their beliefs if im being honest with you
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Jeez Louise This is a Mess
Sleepy King (Nenna edition) Master Post
Apologies in advance, I'm not very familiar with John Constantine, trying to do anything from his perspective is definitely an unwise decision. I have chosen it anyway. He's almost definitely OOC.
---
John watched the Fentons and the mayor just saunter through the brand new hole in the mayor’s wall like this was just a normal Friday for them. Considering how weird the town was as a whole, it probably was. And he meant that by the old meaning of the word and as literal as one could possibly interpret it. He’d never been anywhere where the veil was so thin over such a large area, with æther so thick in the air of course it was affecting the locals. Probably had something to do with whoever or whatever had cloaked the whole town.
John turned to Tall Dark and Broody, “So, what happened to all the bugs and trackers you put on them originally?”
Batsy frowned, “Danny’s are still in the Fenton residence, expected since he clearly changed his clothes. His parents’ trackers and bugs all went offline not long after arriving home, the ones I placed inside the residence are malfunctioning.”
“And that’s not the least bit suspicious?” John asked.
“It’s incredibly suspicious,” Batsy said with a completely straight face before turning and also walking right out the brand new hole. “I suggest you actually use the comm I gave you earlier, they’re explaining the situation to Masters.”
Unfortunately Mr. Gargles Gravel for Breakfast had a point, John sighed and did put in the comm, though he knew it would be spotty with the use of magic to follow the group. Batsy and Wonder Woman could follow however they liked, John did not have the energy for that.
The comms were staticky, cutting in and out even without John’s abuse of the thin veil to quick step around town. Not surprising, the amount of pure death magic radiating off the two dead-alive people in that tank would be enough to mess with most electronics even if the veil weren’t practically non-existent.
“Somehow this place feels cozy,” Boston commented as he followed John.
“You would think so.”
The conversation on the comm was getting worse, the bugs were clearly slowly giving up the ghost. John only caught a few words here and there, and those were only because they were Ghost Speak, something that shouldn’t be possible for flesh and blood mouths to speak. It’s just bits and pieces, names and titles mostly, but if he’s understanding this right…
“Huh, that may change the situation a bit.”
“What are you going on about?” Boston asked.
“It sounds like Pariah isn’t the Ghost King anymore. But Batsy’s bugs are losing the war against æther, so when we get there you’re gonna need to go spy on them.”
“Will that work?”
“Try to keep out of sight, but even if you get caught the worst they’ll do is kick you out. Undead solidarity.”
Boston grumbled, but when John met back up with Batsy and Wonder Woman staring through a window right to where the group was talking, Boston did as he was asked and slipped right through the wall and inside. John cast a quick spell to spy through Boston.
Boston floated slowly into the room, seemingly becoming braver as the Fentons looked right past him without reacting. Unfortunately, he got a little too close to the one person in the room that could definitely see him. The kid jumped out of his seat in surprise.
“Don't sneak up on me like that!” The kid whined as he picked himself up off the floor. Then he froze, eyes glaring at Boston. “How did you sneak up on me? You didn't activate my ghost sense at all.”
“Oh, you can see me? And ghost sense?”
“You don't know who I am?”
“Uh… Daniel Fenton?”
“Well yes, but ghosts don't usually call me that.”
“Then what do they call you?”
“How about you tell me your name first?”
“I’m Deadman.”
The kid burst into laughter. “Are you for real?”
“Danny, is it Youngblood?” The sister asked.
“Huh?” The kid looked to his older sister, then back to Boston. He gestured, “You can't see him?”
The Fentons all shook their heads.
The creepy mayor came back into the room holding a cardboard box, knocking a thin layer of dust from the top. “Here it is!” He looked up and frowned. “Who are you, and why are you in my home?”
“I’m Deadman and I’m uh… lost?”
“He didn't set off my ghost sense,” the kid added. He turned back to Boston, “Are you even a ghost?”
Batman, who’d spent the last few minutes getting into the perfect position while he waited for the most dramatic moment chose then to crash through the window. John started cursing as he rushed to climb in after the loon, already prepping a spell. The moment he had a clear line of sight he shot off the revelation spell at the kid.
It did… well not much.
Really about all it did was give the kid a couple extra accessories. He expected them, but he also expected it to somehow reveal the kid’s undead status too. Make him look all glowy and ghostly like he had when he’d first arrived last night, because John was pretty sure the kid hadn’t been kidnapped after all. Or at least not how they originally assumed, he was pretty sure some spirits considered an unwilling summons a kidnapping.
Still, there the crown was. Just floating over the kid’s head, toxic green æther flames around it like a death energy aurora. And like any teenager the kid seemed completely oblivious, having to be told the crown was even there. Once he got a hand on it though he said something odd, “Okay, crown retrieved.”
John just tucked his hands in his pockets, waiting to see what they were doing. Why did they think they needed to find the crown?
“We may have a problem,” The creepy mayor said as he pulled an identical crown from his cardboard box.
“What.” The kid looked back and forth between the crown in his hand and the one in the creeper’s. “Why are there two?”
And, well, John agreed. Why the fuck were there two? He already started muttering an identification spell as the kid turned to him.
“What did you do?!”
“I didn't do anything,” John protested, “that was purely an identification spell, it can't duplicate things!”
“Well clearly you did something wrong,” The kid’s mom said while glaring at the him.
Of course things got dicey after that, the kid and the creepy mayor got into a fight over the second crown, things turned into a right mess, and John was quite content to let them squabble among themselves. He moved to go stand next to Batsy and Wonder Woman, Boston with him, waiting to see how this went.
Of course the tussle then turned into fighting over the ring on the kid’s finger, still blaming John for just revealing the crown and ring the kid had apparently had this whole time.
“Alright, that’s enough. Shut up!” John may have put a bit of intent into that, and it worked beautifully. The whole group stopped and stared at him, finally shutting up. The parents managed to get between the kid and the creeper, each one still with one of the crowns.
The crowns he now knew were both, somehow, legitimate.
John pointed at the kid, “Just call the crown, it’ll listen.”
The kid gave him a disbelieving look. “Oh sure, I’ll just,” he hunched forward a little bit, clapped his hands, and whistled like he was calling a dog, “here Crowny, Crowny, Crowny.”
For a brief moment nothing happened, then the creeper mayor jerked forward as the crown yanked itself from his hand. It went to go join the other crown floating over the kid’s head, one of them grew wider so the other could nestle inside it, both spinning in place but in opposite directions.
Everyone was staring at the display.
“What uh… what are they doing?” The kid asked nervously.
“They… like each other?” The sister asked skeptically.
“Great, wonderful, fabulous, just what I need in my life.” The kid sighed and turned to glare at John. “What. Did. You. DO?!”
“I didn’t do shit,” John replied, much to the parents’ combined horror. “Looks like somehow they’re both legit, my best guess is one of them isn’t from this timeline.”
“Oh,” the sister said, grabbing everyone’s attention. “The Nasty Burger explosion happened after the fight with the king, right?”
“The what?” the kid’s parents asked.
“Oh,” the kid responded, “I’m starting to see why the council of eyeballs hates my guts.”
And wasn’t that a concerning sentence. John desperately needed a drink, thankfully he had a flask on him and chose that moment to take a swig. “Alright, so there should be a second ring too, no point leaving that on Dark’s finger in case he gets out again.”
“Vlad did it,” the kid said while pointing at the creeper.
“Excuse me!” Creeper actually put a hand to his neck, like some fainting Victorian lady.
“Vlad tried to steal the ring and crown, so he let Dark out of the sarcophagus and I had to go clean up his mess, like always.” The kid glared at the creeper, it was starting to paint a really concerning picture.
“I’m sure Vladdie was just trying to keep these powerful artifacts safe,” the kid’s dad said loudly and happily. Yeah, there was the concerning picture again.
“I’d believe it if all he took was the ring, but the crown was safely sealed away with Pariah and he let the guy out to steal it.”
“Just call the ring,” John said gruffly.
“Here Ragey, Ragey, Ragey.” The kid whistled and clapped his hands again. The ring showing up on the kid’s other hand was expected, the glowing green hell hound that came sprinting through the wall and practically tackled the kid wasn’t. “Cujo! Hi! Who’s a good puppy?!”
Keeriest, John needed a stiffer drink.
#nenna writes#sleepy king#dpxdc#danny phantom#fanfic#fanfiction#dc comics#dc stands for disregard canon#justice league
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Page 84
Next 💜 Back 🖤 First
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(Author's Notes)
Panel 1: Everything is suffused with the softness of morning light. Imogen wakes up, smiling in contentment at her surroundings. Laudna is still asleep beside her, hair sleep-tangled and falling in her face, eyes and mouth a little open, bedraggled cat doll on the pillow, dead rat tucked under her chin. All of this is precious to her.
Panel 2: Carefully she brushes her hair back from her face, revealing her scarred throat and one maimed ear.
Panel 3: Imogen leans down and kisses her ear tenderly.
Panel 4: Laudna opens her eyes to find Imogen leaning over her. Reaching up, she caresses her cheek with the backs of her fingers and Imogen leans affectionately into her touch like a cat.
Laudna: Everything all right, love?
Imogen: Mmm-hm.
Laudna: No bad dreams?
Imogen: None at all. I haven't had a nightmare in weeks, come to think of it.
Laudna: Maybe they're gone for good!
Panel 5: Laudna starts preparing breakfast while Imogen pours water for tea.
Imogen: Wouldn't that be somethin'? I feel like gettin' out of Gelvaan's done me a world of good.
Laudna: You look happy.
Imogen: I am! I feel better out here than I have in years. Makin' our own way, and no one's mind pressin' up against mine except for yours.
Panel 6: They sit on the stoop with their tea. Imogen leans her head against Laudna's shoulder.
Imogen: Are you?
Laudna: Oh, yes. I'd be happy anywhere with you. I'm afraid it's quite a bit more humble than your old home, though.
Imogen: Darlin', I'm happier in this li'l hut with you than any other house I've lived in. You're here. That's what makes it home.
Panel 7: Wider view of the surrounding woods. The trees are more autumn-colored than they were last time we saw them.
Laudna: It doesn't have to be for always. If we don't find the answers you're looking for here, we can always keep going on to that fancy academy in Jrusar.
Imogen: I don't mind stoppin' here until spring, at least. Glad we found a snug place to stay before the snow comes. To get to Jrusar we'll have to go through the Kaal Mountains, and that'd be hard goin' once winter sets in. Then it's north for a long stretch through the Hellcatch Valley on the other side and into the Oderan Wilds. {sigh} Long ways off, still.
Laudna: We'll get there. One step at a time. I'll follow wherever you lead.
#critical role#critical role fanart#critical role comic#laudna#imogen temult#imodna#southerngothic#comics#webcomics on tumblr#a long road home#mintywolf
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Text recounting of the full events below but oh my god please watch this person explain the wildest thing happening to them
[image text]r/trueoffmychest post by CptnSpaceCase
Today my aide cooked what should not be cooked
I have to get this out, because today feels like an actual nightmare I keep expecting to wake up from.
I'm disabled, and need help with stuff around the house. Today was the second day with a new agency and new home health aide, "Tina." I set it up so she would come by in the morning while I'm sleeping (insomnia is killer), and I texted her last night what I would need done today.
One of those things was to roast some precut squash I'd gotten so I could have it with my salads and pasta. I was very clear in my instructions: what it looked like, where it was in the fridge, how to use the oven, how to cook it. I also have a roommate who was up and told her she could ask them for help if she couldn't find anything. Or come get me if truly necessary.
Now, I have three pet ball pythons. They eat rats that I thaw from frozen in the fridge in a reusable plastic bag. Yes, that's where I'm going with this.
Tina couldn't find the squash, and so, obviously, that meant she should roast the first other thing she could see that was technically also encased in plastic, in a completely different area of the fridge. The FUCKING RATS. In butter and salt, in my nice baking dish.
And like, that's insane all on its own, but if you're going to cook any animal, you should at least clean and skin it first, right??? Like, do the crazy, disgusting thing properly so I can respect the effort, instead of sticking them in as is. Fur and guts and all.
And the smell. Good God baby Jesus the SMELL. It woke me up and had me gagging the moment I opened my bedroom door. Definitely not squash. Or food-smelling for that matter. At first I thought the squash had spontaneously rotted overnight and she'd tried to cook it anyway. That would have been slightly less insane and much preferable.
I had to pull it out of her what she was cooking instead when she said she couldn't find it (it was in plain sight), had to open the oven and see my snakes' dinners in place of my own and still couldn't process what the fuck was happening, what I was looking at and smelling. I don't like yelling at people and generally avoid it. Today was a day for exceptions. And at the end of my half-crazed, dissociative rant, I told her to get the whole dish and its contents and herself out of the fucking house. And to not come back.
Suffice to say, I've contacted the agency to report it and am requesting a new aide. Now I'm sitting at a cafe trying to calm down and eat something despite the scent memory that's taken up permanent residence and turning my stomach. The whole house reeks like musty, sewage-dipped pork that had been left out for a whole day before being cooked in rancid oil, and I'm not sure Febreeze is gonna cut it. I don't want to go home. 🫠😭
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🔱 THE GODS HAVE CHOSEN THEIR HERO! 🔱
>> about au >> au tag >> discord
By the power vested upon me (lol), I am now announcing the official winner of the Hermits and The Olympians Fanfiction Contest :] !
Once again, to remind everyone, the winner was chosen through amount of kudos/votes/likes and can choose from either prizes; a comic based on their submitted work or requested rendered art.
All submissions have been acknowledged to be amayzin' so I encourage everyone to read everyone's works nonetheless if they won or not :)
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FIRST PLACE 👑 OFFICIAL WINNER (42 kudos)
I will protect you (at least I'll try) by @star-cluster-nyx & @tallassredwood
Officially congratulations to our winners for the contest! Your fanfic has genuinely been a heartwarming experience. Grian and Pearl had nothing but each other, but sibling relationships aren't always that pretty. You showed that relationship dynamic really well in a very fun style and pacing.
Do tell me which one will be your point person so I could discuss about your prize :p ! ───────── ⋆⋅ 🔱 ⋅⋆ ─────────
SECOND PLACE 👑 RUNNER UP (32 kudos)
like roots, burrowing by @unreliable-bean
Our first submission and one of the works that won over our Mumscarian hearts </3 (after wrangling it around with angst for a few scenes /j). A mix of Minecraft mechanics and PJO mechanics is always fun! You fused them really well with such a nice pacing. The use of Scar's abnormal origins was a good touch to provide solutions to the conflict. Exciting writing as always :D
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THIRD PLACE 👑 RUNNER UP (17 kudos)
I’ll always be there (sparkling and shining) by Munchkin1156
Always a joy to see Grian-centric fics, thank you for submitting this! With the addition of the watchers to an unseemingly normal PJO AU, you've written the journey of Grian under their influence really well! A shame that the image still won't load on the link, but I would also like to say that your friend's art was amayzin'! An amazing drawing paired with an amazing work :]
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ALL MY (as well as the secret judges') FAVORITES :>
The Saint of Apollo by Nerdking14 Thank you for participating, genuinely. I know you've been writing about this even since before the fanfiction contest was announced and I truly commend you for putting your time, effort, and wonderful writing for our darling Empires campers. The way you adapted the previous small drabbles and headcanons to your story was exciting and I was happy those were done justice. You did justice to Camp Empires and I'm sure the gods would commend you for that too.
Oracle of Delphi by ethotek Mod [Hyunjin Yoon] expressed personal favorite to our dearest oracle. Extremely in love with how you adapted Gem's little complicated background into your writing. Lovely work that captured Gem's confusion and inner doubts really well :) This would've been a joy to delve deeper into through a comic, but let's return to it another time!
You were able to settle Gem into her home! But is she truly there?
It had always been just a game by Linny Heartwrenching, but captures well the realistic losses demigods would inevitably go through in a mythological world as teenagers. Gruesome, but filled with love for your ships' dynamics. Very good work :]
Again, thank you everyone who participated and even supported/read everyone's works. Although it pains me that I cannot give anything to everyone to show my gratitude, I simply wish you continue to enjoy your time here even if I cannot be much!
From the depths of the Underworld, to the vastness of the Seas, to the freedom of the Skies── Thank you very much for checking out Hermits and The Olympians! GGs to all participants!
#Hermits and The Olympians#Emperors of Olympus#HaTOFFContest#hermitcraft fanfic#empires smp fanfic#hermitshipping#goodtimeswithscar#grian#ldshadowlady#pearlescentmoon#smallishbeans#geminitay#skyblings
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✟The Witch Hunter!
pairing: witch!hunter! Katsuki Bakugo x fem!'witch' reader.
cw: arguments!, mentions of death!, female reader!, possibly a little angst?, flirting/teasing.
2.1k words.
not proofread... I was too excited to post it...
⊰𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓 ⊱ »»————> Resentment.
"drakthar."
"ferai?"
"oh i know! tira'shal!" you spewed suggestions at the little lizard on your neck. only to get head tilts as a response.
"y'tryin' to cast a spell 'er some shit? the fuck're ya sayin'..." the disheveled blonde cringed at the foreign words rolling off your tongue.
"trying to give him a name, no thanks to you." you huffed, mumbling the second half before you asked, "do you... have a name?" and he stopped in his tracks causing you to bump into his back with a "oof".
"stop it." he muttered, still faced away from you.
"hmm? did I say something wrong?" you tried walking in front of him to see if you could read his reaction or expression... but he just bowed his head, shying away from looking at you.
as you were led further into forest, the hunter cast irritated glances over his shoulder now and then, while you kept pace with the tiny dragonet nestled on your shoulders, each small, nervous chirp making the hunter frown deeper.
then you stumble upon another village left in ruins... empty houses sat shrouded in shadows, their broken roofs and warped doors left to the elements... the clearing was surrounded by lush grass and overgrown vines, that reached for the rotting wood of the houses.
"are all villages like this in Solgrad?" you asked, eyes scanning the area curiously, hoping to see at least one other person...
the hunter's hand instinctively dropped to his sword, as his eyes narrowed,"I know this place..." he muttered, "an' 's got witch stench all over it," looking back to glare at you.
you raised a brow, looking between him the silent homes. "what's that supposed to mean?" you huffed, crossing your arms.
"tch. yer kind left this place like this." he started forward, stepping over broken mud tiles and splintered wood.
oh... "maybe they were protecting themselves. or protecting others." you glanced at the dragonet, who nuzzled against you, leaving little coos in your ears.
he shot you a glare over his shoulder. "yer awfully fond o' defendin' 'em, witch. what kinda fool d'ya think I am?"
you returned his look, expression softening, just a bit. "someone who's already seen enough pain to understand why people might lash out when they're afraid..."
"i don' care why they lash out—only that they do. 'n that's reason enough to end it." he paused, squinting at the distant remains of a once-grand hall, where charred beams and stone foundations were all that remained. "tell me, then—what's 'protectin' in yer world? 'cause from where i stand, 'protectin' means leavin' scars like this."
you stopped, the weight of his words settling over you as you took in the deserted hall, the way its emptiness seemed to echo the hunter's distrust. "protection isn't always easy," you said quietly. "and I'm sure neither is hunting."
he clicked his tongue and looked away, irritation crossing his face as he muttered, "yer preachin' don' change facts, witch. wouldn't trust ya' not to leave one o' these places in ruins if ya' had half a mind to."
"that's what i've been trying to tell you." you countered, voice steady. "i wouldn't."
a bitter laugh was his only response, amused at your convincing, and he looked back at the dragonet clinging to you, "draggin' that scaly nuisance with us don' mean it'll be grateful y'know. world ain't exactly praisin' life to his kind either." contempt lingering in his eyes. "showin' it 'mercy' is gonna get ya' in more trouble."
the dragonet let out a timid chirp, burrowing closer as if sensing his hostility. "i'm already in trouble for just being alive..." you stroked its head gently, offering it silent reassurance. "no one can stop me from helping him. not even you, hunter." you replied, your voice calm.
he scoffed, "don' come cryin' to me when it turns on ya'." he turned back to the path ahead, his tone half-challenging, half-resigned. "hell, wouldn't surprise me one bit."
your gaze softened as you watched him stride through the abandoned village, with his broad shoulders filled with tension. you could see the pain in him—layered under his sharp words and pride. it was a pain unlike the scars left on the broken homes around you. he still lived in it, raw and unmended.
the path through the village ruins seemed endless, each step muffled by thick layers of ash and decay and you watched his captivating, vermilion eyes swept over the deserted little houses.
"this is what yer kind brings." his voice was low and bitter, as he glanced back at you with forced narrowed eyes. "yer no different. just another danger, waitin' to strike."
"is that so?" you hummed, sidling closer. "the more you speak of my people, the more you sound like you're trying to convince yourself something." you leaned in just enough to catch the faintest flicker of his discomfort. "guess you can't help yourself, hm?"
"tch." he scoffed, looking away sharply, his grip on his sword tightening for stability. "yer full of shit, witch." he paused, his voice dropping to a rough murmur. "an' yer damn lucky that's all yer full of."
you laughed softly, "so you keep saying. but somehow, i'm still here," you countered, keeping your tone light despite the ache forming in your chest.
his jaw clenched, "witches = curses." he spat, as if the words themselves were poison. "this—this's the toll yer kind leaves behind." he gestured around, his voice laced with bitterness, "all that power, an' for what? t'leave towns like this 'til there's nothin' left." he shook his head, gaze hardening as he looked at you. "if yer really so different, then prove it." he whispered, almost to himself, the slightest sound of desperation replacing his usual bite... " 'cause all i see 's another risk i shoulda put down the moment i caught ya'." and he averted his eyes, as if the sight of you was hurting him.
you swallowed, biting back tears as he stood in front of you. "maybe if you stopped looking at me like a hunter, you'd see that I mean you no harm." you forced your voice to stay steady, refusing to let his words cut deeper than they already had. "some of us—most of us—don't want anything to do with this kind of ruin." you didn't know why you tried so hard to convince him. or why you felt his words hit you where it hurts. and your dragon nuzzled your cheek.
he snorted, turning away again. "say that all ya' want, but i ain't stupid." his voice was low, cold. "ain't no witch ever just 'wants peace.' it always ends in the same damn thing—trouble." he shot you a sidelong glance. " 'n yer just waitin' fer the right moment to cause it."
"is that why you're keeping me so close?" you retorted, "is that why you took off my chains?" you raised your hands, "for me to do something that proves you right?!" raising your voice, like you were mocking him. "are you hoping i'll break under the weight of your words?" your tone lowered again.
"watch it." he growled, stepping closer to look right down at you. "yer nothin' but my next bag o' coin, witch. 'n that's all ya' ever gonna be."
you forced a laugh, though it felt more bitter than anything else. "or maybe, you're just afraid i'm right." you tilted your head up, meeting his gaze with a taunting smile.
his scowl darkened, flickering between you and your dragon, but he said nothing, his silence louder than any argument. his gaze lingered on you, hard and searching, as if daring you to slip, to reveal some hidden malice. you stared back, heart pounding, refusing to break eye contact.
he huffed and turned away from you, walking off and heading out of the deserted village, back into the dense forest. you walked for hours, until your feet was beginning to feel like it would fall off. but your little friend was as bright eyed as ever, running through your feet with each step you took, chittering like giggles escaping his snout.
and finally, after what felt like forever, you heard the faint sound of indistinct chatter... the hunter found a small town. a cluster of wooden buildings nestled between rugged hills, with the faint flicker of lanterns casting a warm glow against the stone paths. people scurried the streets, rushing to their homes and shutting their doors. and the hunter's hand stayed firmly on the hilt of his sword as the two of you inced closer.
"tch. they're prob'ly hidin' from yer witchness." he muttered, in an attempt to tease you, as his gaze scanned the town. "it's best we don' linger long."
"was that a joke?" you said, rolling your eyes. "they're probably, just as likely hiding from you, you know. you don't exactly scream 'friendly visitor'."
he side eyed you, "the hell would they be scared o' me for?"
you raised a brow, smirking. "please, with all that glaring and stomping around with your hand on your sword..." you gestured around dramatically, letting out a playful sigh. "i'm innocent compared to you." and you giggled, looking at his weirded out expression, with your dragon hugged onto his leg, excited chirps emitting from it as he tried to shake him off.
he scoffed, failing to shake him off, "ain't nothin' innocent 'bout ya," he muttered, looking at you up and down, though the faintest hint of amusement flickered in his eyes before he turned his attention back to overgrown lizard, still clinging to his leg.
"aww," you laughed, watching the baby snuggle his leg and make 'puppy eyes' up at him.
he aggressively pointed at it, "well, don' jus' stand there cacklin', get it off me."
"he likes you." you cooed, as you stepped closer, adding an exaggerated sway to your steps. "he's got horrible taste in people already." and he jumped off the hunter, and scurried onto you, making himself comfortable around your hips, like a cute belt.
"c'mon. we better get a room before it gets any later." he said, motioning to follow behind as he walked toward the first inn he saw.
"you really can't help yourself around me, can you?" you winked, teasingly striding behind him into the inn.
"keep talkin' like that, 'n we'll see how I help myself with you sleepin' outside," he grumbled, but he didn't pull his gaze from you, his eyes narrowed with an exasperation that almost, almost, bordered on something softer.
inside the inn he chose, was dimly lit, with a smoky warmth that smelled of old wood and stale ale. a few patrons looked up as you entered, but most quickly returned to their drinks.
the innkeeper eyed you both curiously as you approached the counter. "need rooms, or just passin' through?" she asked, gaze lingering on you until your captor cleared his throat.
"two rooms. just fer the night." his tone was clipped, giving no room for conversation.
"aw, two rooms?" you pouted, giving him a mockingly disappointed look. "afraid you won't be able to keep your hands to yourself this time?"
"don' flatter yerself," he grunted, ignoring you as he tossed a few shards of your armour on the counter. "two rooms."
you let out a soft, exaggerated sigh, leaning close just enough to keep the innkeeper's attention. "he likes to pretend he doesn't want me around." you shook your head, then nodded to him standing next to you, "should've seen him last ni-"
"shut it." he cutt you off, resting a hand on your lower back, "now where're our rooms?" his attention shifted to the innkeeper.
she looked between you two, brows raised, "upstairs. an' try to keep the noise down." she smirked at you, winking. but he merely glared back, shoving you away and up the stairs.
"don' go causin' trouble for me." he huffed, hand still on your back. but you didn't remind him to move it.
you flashed him a wicked grin. "you really think i'm capable of that?" and sarcastically gasped.
"i know ya' are. 'n i ain't dumb enough to trust yer ass not to curse me while i'm sleepin' or some shit." he looked you up and down. a gesture he's started doing more often than not.
"mhmm, suit yourself, blondie," you murmured, turning on your heel and making your own way up the stairs, the key clinking softly in your hand. but before you disappeared, you cast him a quick look over your shoulder, voice dropping to a playful whisper. "don't miss me too much."
his jaw and fists tightened, scowl deepening as he watched you go. "yer full o' it, y'know that?" and he slammed his room door shut behind him.
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A new ladder - Reader x Curly
Previous - Part 3 - Next
"What would you like to do today?"
You leaned against the back of the sofa to look at Curly, who was attentively watching the news.
Curly: "Is there something we can do?"
"We could do something like physical therapy... is that what it's called? So that you can use those prosthetics, wouldn't you like to be able to walk again?"
Curly: "You look enthusiastic."
"I'm bored"
You let out a sigh of pure sincerity as you lay down on the sofa, head bowed, barely four days into being with him and hardly ever leaving the house.
Curly: "We can chat."
"Seriously, don't you want to do something?"
Curly: "Of course, but... I don't want to bother you, you're already doing too much."
"You could ask me to tap dance on the table and I would do it just to laugh at something."
You raised your head and stared at him, waiting for some kind of response.
Curly: "What do you want to do?"
"Have you ever ridden a horse?"
Curly: "....No?"
Before he could realize it, you had already made the trip in your car to take him to a field outside the city.
There you had met with a friend of yours, who welcomed you warmly and guided you to an area where there were several horses.
Curly was able to see how your friend helped you get on one of the horses, you had a huge smile, and then he helped him get on with you, ending up in front of you.
Immediately, you put your hands around his waist to hold him close to you, while the horse began to gallop slowly around the meadow.
Behind him again, I could hear your little laughs, this time more relaxed, just a sound of the pleasant moment you were having.
Curly was observing his surroundings, feeling the movement of the animal. The place was beautiful, the trees, the bushes, the flowers, the sky, the clouds, for a moment he had forgotten how incredible the world was, feeling a lot of tranquility.
You spent at least half an hour riding and walking around that field, and at one point you almost fell off the horse because there was a little colt that wanted to bother the one you were riding, until its mother arrived and scolded it.
When you returned to the car, after thanking your friend for the experience, Curly felt that the day had ended and they were going back to monotony.
But he realized that the path you took was not the same one to return home.
You drove up a small hill and parked where the car wouldn't cause too much trouble.
"Do you want to climb?"
Curly: "Do you think I can-?"
He couldn't finish the sentence because you had surrounded him with your arms, forcing him to get out of the car. The prosthetics on his legs barely kept him standing, and he leaned against your body to avoid falling.
You closed the car door with your foot and waited patiently for the man to stand up.
Your arms were still around him, preventing him from falling completely. He tried to hold onto you as he straightened up, finally standing, swaying and looking at your face.
Curly: "Don't do this to me..." He sighed, lowering his head.
"Am I hurting you?"
Curly: "Emotionally"
You felt how he rested his forehead on your shoulder, standing there without moving, with your hands clasped together, forming a ring around his waist.
Curly: "I can't... I don't deserve it... All this... The surgeries... The attention... The prosthetics... I don't deserve to stand up again or take a step forward myself-"
You let go of him at that moment, causing him to fall to the ground, sitting and looking at you confused.
You crouched down to his level to closely examine his face.
"It's going to relax you to walk a bit, let's go again."
You said to him with a smile and helped him stand up again, this time putting his prosthetic arm over your shoulders and keeping your arm around his waist.
He felt strange being accompanied in that way, it made him feel so vulnerable, reminding him of the fragile condition he was in.
You didn't stop holding onto him for a second while you took short and slow steps, being as careful as possible.
It was just a few meters to reach the top where there was a beautiful meadow, but it took you several minutes to get there due to the pace you were going.
You made Curly sit among the grass and tall flowers of that place, soon you sat down beside him, reclining there immediately.
He kept looking at you, how you just lay there with a smile on your lips, your eyes closed, and breathing deeply.
Slowly, he lay down beside you, observing the sky; the clouds in that place looked different from those in the city, it seemed that by raising your hands you could touch them.
Curly: "Why did you bring me here?"
"A place so beautiful must be shared, so more can appreciate it."
Curly: "...Why are you doing this? You should just give me my medicine, you could leave me locked up at home if you wanted, and go out on your own."
"You think too much. Just relax"
You placed your hand on his chest to give him a couple of pats and then put your hands behind your head, enjoying the sun on your skin.
The warmth of the afternoon sun, which would soon set, was pleasant on his wounded skin. Despite having received a graft, his skin remained too sensitive, but those gentle rays of sunlight provided a pleasant warmth.
He decided to listen to you and relax; maybe that was what he needed.
#mouthwash#mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing x reader#captain curly#curly mouthwashing#captain curly x reader#curly x reader#mouthwashing curly#A new ladder mouthwashing
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@zepskies
Girl, I am so excited to read what you thought of this chapter!
The aftermath of her trying to piece together her memories of her parents' death and her brother's betrayal is so heartbreaking. 😥 Like she's realizing that the narrative of her life was a lie, in a way. Hopefully she'll be able to reclaim the part of her past that was good and true with her parents, vs. the love and care she still has in her life through the people around her.
Exactly! It's almost like she has to start over and it's like nothing is the same. She is surrounded by people who love her, people who will ADMIT it and people who WON'T ADMIT it lol.
Lol GIRL. You KNOW WHY. You're just refusing to see it! But I could really see this moment in my head like a movie -- that look on Ben's face, watching her walk away. 💔
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 😭
That little creature she created is interesting though. You really get a sense that she tapped into something in her powers that was before yet unexplored -- like she broke through a barrier without realizing and unlocked new depths within herself.
That's what I was going for! The reader is really discovering new things about herself and I think that's why she's afraid of what comes next. She thought that she was in control of her abilities and knew everything about them, but now she's realizing that she's on the precipice of something that she's never considered about her powers. Plus, I really think that the creature is adorable, well, besides the murder tendencies. (I guess we could also say that about Ben LMAO)
Loll he's really not. But the thing about Ben is, when he does make those gestures, you know it's coming from a place of sincerity because he doesn't soften himself easily.
Yes! Ben is never like that for anyone. He's not doing it because he feels obligated to, it's because he genuinely cares about the reader, even if he won't admit it to himself. 😒
Aww I love her grandmother so much! At least someone in her family is in her corner. 😭
Honestly I love her too! I was so on the fence about introducing her into the story, but I'm glad I did. And yes, the reader needed at least ONE living relative that genuinely cares about her. 😅
I think we ALL know who you meant. 😂
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.
I also love how you describe the "creative chaos" of her grandmother's house. The imagery in those paragraphs are so descriptive and lovely to imagine. I love especially: "boxes upon boxes of cookies in different stages of being packaged all over the counter." It's so grandmotherly and yet feels unique at the same time.
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.
Discovering more about her past as Soothsayer, as well as her friendship with Ben was so very interesting! I didn't see it coming and that's the best thing of all, but now it's a way her grandmother can relate to her even more -- as well as be in an even better position to give her advice when it comes to that man.
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. But I think that the reader needed some sage advice from someone who sees through Ben, understands him, and helps the reader come to the same conclusion, that there really is more to Ben that meets the eye and that the reader should "take a chance on him." (Pun intended 😂)
Heart...breaking... 😢 She's such a sweetheart. How can she not realize how much she cares about him (loves him)?
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.
GRANDMA YESSSS, TELL HER!!! GET IT THROUGH HER HEAD! lolll Ben isn't incapable of fear (or love), no matter how much he'd like to pretend. The way it comes out of him might "look different," through snappish anger and denial and rigidity, but it's still fear.
Again, Grandma for the win lol.
And YES you said it! It's not that Ben is some emotionless lump who doesn't care about anyone and feels nothing, he feels everything, but he just refuses to show it in the healthy way that people should. He's been so conditioned to see expressing emotions in a healthy way as something to be "frowned upon" so instead he has all these explosions of unhealthy angst that really don't help anyone.
Come on now, Ben. You're over 100 years old! Surely you get what's happening to you by now! 🤣🤣 You're simping for a girl you care about!
He really should know better 😅😂
Oooh the plants are keeping her young, huh? 😏 Maybe enough to sync up her lifespan with Ben's???
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. It's why I don't write too many readers that aren't as indestructible as him. I always try to write in a contingency plan that kind of saves Ben that heartbreak. But that is not to say anything bad about the fics were the reader isn't a supe or able to live as long as him. There are so many of those that I absolutely love and are so well written!
Side note, I did like how you handled it in BMD, when I read that forever ago. It was a good way to save Ben that heartbreak.
LMFAOO. Again, I love her. Kick his ass, Di! Get him in gear! "Try harder" -- INDEED.
Di is really giving him the kick in the pants he needs and is saying the things to him that we've all been saying from the beginning.😂
I'm deeeeeadd! I loved this line so much. 🤣🤣🤣 Benjamin is testing my patience too, good Lord. I can see why he's scared. He's on the verge of admitting he loves her -- and finally doing something about it. After his experience with Countess, that'll put anyone off of trying again to delve into a proper relationship (not to say their relationship was a proper example of a loving one, because it wasn't, obviously). Especially for someone like Ben, who struggles with real intimacy and dealing with his feelings, it makes sense that he'd digging his heels in now -- no matter how frustrating it is. 🙃🙃
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. In relationships you do have to be vulnerable, open, and be emotionally available and for him those two things seem pretty daunting. This whole thing really makes me feel worse for him, because Countess messed him up, and made him afraid to have those feelings for someone else.
But I'm so happy you liked it!! And thank you for all of your wonderful comments. It really is so nice to hear your feedback friend💗😊
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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2019 debut year <> you do too much
word count: 3.7k TW: body image, overworking, swearing, angst italics are in english, bolded words are in mandarin
౨ৎ ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ
Cyana never meant for it to get this far.
It had started off pretty mild, she'd wake up earlier than usual, take a morning run to the company and get a head start on practice. She'd stay later than the others too, insisting they go home without her and that she'd join them a bit later. Just one more time, she'd say, as she cued up the song once again. Just one more time, she'd say again after that, and by then it would already be close to midnight.
She stared at herself in the mirror, shaking with frustration and fatigue. Her chest heaved harshly as she tried desperately to calm her breath.
Hoshi shot her a worried glance. "Nana, take a break."
She shook her head. "I'm fine."
"Practice is done anyways. The car's ready, pack up." He grabbed her hand to drag her towards their things.
Cyana shook her hand out from his grasp, shooting him a tired smile. "You can go first, Soonie. I'll stay a little bit longer. I want to try Getting Closer again."
Hoshi frowned at her words. "We've already stayed late, nana-yah. Everyone's already left. And you've been staying late for the past two weeks. Let's take a break, okay?"
She shook her head stubbornly. "It's fine, really."
He looked at her apprehensively, not quite believing her. Sighing, he reluctantly agreed, knowing there was no stopping her. "Please be home by at least two am."
She nodded absentmindedly, already turning back around to cue up the track. She made sure Hoshi really had left before continuing, concentrating on perfecting her angles and facial expression. She had failed the company test - when the higher-ups came and decided she wasn't good enough - her ego burned from the hit and she vowed to work even harder. The members had told her she was already amazing, but she couldn't believe them if the company officials didn't think so.
She hadn't told any of the boys she hadn't been returning home. Most of her essentials were stored safely in one of the drawers in their practice room - saving her both the time and energy it took to return home. This way she could wash up and change before immediately getting back to practice.
"Oh, Jeonghan oppa." She answered when he called her phone.
"Nana, where are you?" His voice sounded muffled and tired. "Hoshi texted and said you're still at the company."
She checked the time. 3:26 AM. "Oh. I decided to crash at Mingyu's place." She lied, wincing. She hated lying to him whenever he called to check in. It was pure luck that no one really ever confirmed with Mingyu that she had actually been staying over. "I'm about to go to sleep. You should too, oppa."
She heard Jeonghan sigh in relief. "Okay, good. Goodnight, Nana." He hung up, probably way too tired.
Placing her phone back down on the floor, she glanced once again at the time. It was late. Her body was sore and she was starting to feel a little dizzy. Dragging her feet towards the connected washroom, she was glad they'd installed showers. Cleaning herself up and changing, she returned back to the practice room and crashed on the couch. Just a couple hours, she thought to herself.
"Cyana."
She opened her eyes, squinting at the brightness and letting out a groan. "What time is it?"
A very confused Dino stared back at her. "7 AM." He helped her to sit up, frowning when he saw her wince. "Why are you sleeping here?"
Her eyes widened when she remembered where she was. She inwardly kicked herself for oversleeping. Usually she was able to wake up, get ready and change before everyone else began arriving. They always just assumed she had been the first to arrive. "I-" Feeling rather caught, Cyana could only stare up at Dino wordlessly.
He seemed to catch on rather quickly. "Cyana." He looked at her, disappointment written plainly across his face. "Have you been living here?"
"No!" She protested, knowing he'd 100% tell Jeonghan if she admitted to it and Jeonghan would 100% kill her. "I was just practicing last night and fell asleep, that's all."
He gave her a weird look. "Alright, just-" He sighed. "You really don't need to be pushing yourself so hard. You're already ready."
Cyana gave him a hard stare. Perhaps it was the pain or the lack of sleep, but her nerves were wearing thin. She pushed herself off the couch, walking to the washroom. Splashing water on her face, she attempted to wake herself up.
"Please don't tell the others." She begged Dino once she returned. "Please please please." He looked unconvinced. "Please." She said again. "They'll kill me and you know it."
He sighed. "Fine." He pointed a finger at her, his poor attempt at being stern. "But you've got to promise me it's the last time."
"Got it." She promised, although she knew she'd probably end up breaking it. "Thanks, Chan."
He laughed softly, wrapping his arms gently around her waist, frowning when he felt how skinny she had gotten. He was about to comment on it when the practice doors opened and a hoard of members rushed in, all still slightly half-asleep.
"Aigoo~" Seungkwan cooed at the position they'd caught them in. "Our maknaes are so cute."
Dino flushed, trying to pull away but pausing when he realized Cyana was leaning on him, her eyes closed.
"Is she okay?" Jun mumbled, sipping on his ice coffee and glancing at the girl.
"Hm?" Cyana opened an eye, jumping a bit at the sudden appearance of so many people. "Oh! You're all here."
"Yup." Vernon walked over, ruffling her hair. "You ready?"
She sighed, reluctantly detaching herself from Dino, shivering at the loss of his body heat. "I guess."
Jeonghan had thought something was off from the way Cyana sounded over the phone. She sounded sick and incredibly out of it, her words slurring slightly as she spoke to him. He would've pressed the girl for more answers, but Hoshi's text had woken him up mid-sleep and he was aching to the state of passing out.
Even as they started practice, Jeonghan's mind drifted from the choreo over to Cyana. His mental list of things wrong with her had been gradually growing over the week and he was getting concerned.
Jeonghan's mental list with things that are wrong about Cyana:
She's been saying over at Mingyu's a suspicious amount. Sure, he could understand, the Minwon residence was easily the quietest out of the bunch, and Mingyu was Cyana's closest friend. He figured Wonwoo was in his room most times anyways.
The amount of canceled plans the boys have been complaining about to him was increasing. It felt like every couple days, at least one member would approach him requesting a therapy session, where they just complained about how Cyana was ditching them for their usual hangouts.
He rarely ever saw the girl anywhere but the company. Under any other circumstance it would've been normal, but Cyana had expressed before she hated the feeling of captivity the company gave her.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her eat something.
He could've continued listing reasons in his head, had it not been for the loud thud and a piercing screech that followed it. He froze mid dance move and spun towards the noise.
Cyana was on the floor, Woozi a mere step away from her as he crouched down to examine her. DK was apologizing for the loud scream, although he continued to panic loudly.
"I think she fainted." Woozi concluded, voice calm. His furrowed eyebrows were the only sign he was worried.
"Fainted?" DK gasped out loud.
Mingyu reached down and scooped the girl into his arms, depositing her on the couch. "Yeah, she's out."
"Is she injured?" Seungcheol asked, hovering over her as Mingyu checked. He sighed with relief when Mingyu shook his head. "It was a loud thud."
Jeonghan let out a groan of both realization and disappointment.
"What." Seungcheol whipped his head around at the sound of Jeonghan's groan. "Do you know something?" He pointed at Cyana, who was still laying limply on the couch, head supported by Mingyu's large hand. "Why is she like this?"
Jeonghan raised his hands in defence. "I only suspected. I mean- I thought it was weird she was sleeping over at Mingyu and Wonwoo's so often recently but-"
"What?" Wonwoo cut him off. "She hasn't been over since-" He flushed at the memory. "Since she hurt her ankle."
And all at once, the pieces seemed to fall into place in Jeonghan's mind.
"She's been living here, hasn't she." Dino beat him to the punch, stating what he had just realized. "I found her here asleep when I came in this morning."
They all turned to Seungcheol, who seemed to be at a loss for words, staring at Cyana.
Cyana awoke just in time to see Seungcheol leave, the practice room door swinging shut behind him. She struggled to get up, as strong hands grabbed her and situated her to lean back. A bottle of water was shoved wordlessly into her hands by Vernon, already opened.
"You scared us." Mingyu muttered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
She was vaguely aware of the other boys standing around her. Her ears still rang but she could faintly hear Woozi talking to Jun.
"I swear I tried to catch her. I didn't let her drop on purpose." He was defending himself to a wary Jun. "I'm not that mean."
She would have smiled at how defensive he sounded had it not been for the glowering face of Jeonghan, who was staring holes into her skull.
"Everyone out, please." Jeonghan signalled the others to give them the room. He sat down next to Cyana, letting out a loud sigh once everyone had left.
She knew she was in for it now.
"You wanna tell me what's been going on?" He said quietly, rubbing the seam of her sleeve between his thumb and index finger. "No lies this time."
She felt a lump form in her throat. "Jeonghan-"
"I'm not mad, Cyana." He looked at her sadly. "I just want to know why you haven't been taking care of yourself."
On any other occasion, she would have argued that he was mad. He hadn't used 'Nana' when saying her name.
"You haven't been staying at Mingyu's, I know that for a fact. And you've been canceling plans with the members. You also haven't been eating well. Jun says you rarely take the breakfast he sets aside for you." He continued, frowning when he saw her eyes well up with tears.
"I'm sorry." It was all she could muster.
"I don't care that you lied, Cyana." Jeonghan wiped her tears away with the pad of his thumb. "Just tell me why. Are we doing something wrong?"
She shook her head frantically. "No." God no.
"Then why?"
She finally looked up from her lap to see him, feeling an ache in her chest when she saw how desperate his expression was.
"The company officials-" She paused, and Jeonghan nodded for her to go on. "they said I wasn't good enough. Not quite good enough to debut with seventeen. They said they had a lot bet on me but I was disappointing them."
She got worried when he stayed silent. "Oppa?" She whispered, reaching out tentatively to shake him.
He laced his hand in hers before she could reach him. "I'm sorry they said all that." He turned to look at her, a serious expression taking over his face. "But you know they're wrong, and even if you think they're right, you shouldn't have risked your own health like that."
Cyana nodded. "I know. I just-" She tried to find the words to explain. "I just wanted to debut so badly. I wanted to look good onstage next to all of you." It was a lame explanation but it was the best she could give.
"I know." Jeonghan nodded. "And you will." He pointed at the large mirrors on the wall in front of where they sat. "I watch you dance with us everyday through those mirrors. And you look beautiful. Full of talent and raw power."
She let out a shaky breath.
"Is that why you haven't been eating your meals?" He asked, looking back at her. "Did they say something about that too?"
She nodded. It was perhaps the comment that had hurt her the most. "They said I looked too heavy. That I was supposed to be a girl member. Not a boy."
Jeonghan let out a huff. "Who the fuck-" He muttered, almost to himself. "Give me the names of the people, I'll talk to them."
Cyana smiled despite the heavy setting. "They're higher-ups, Hannie. You can't do anything."
"Psh." Jeonghan waved away her concern. "Still. I'll write their names down and get rid of them once we're big enough."
She supposed she admired his optimism. "Okay." She relented. "I'll find their names and text them to you."
Jeonghan leaned his head on the crook of her shoulder, slouching a bit to reach it. "You know we love you, right?"
She didn't say anything.
"You don't have to believe it now." He said softly. "I know you're a bit weird about stuff like that." He squeezed her hand firmly. "Just need you to hear it."
She nodded. "Okay."
They sat in silence for awhile, and Cyana's ears stopped ringing. "Where did Seungcheol-oppa go?" She whispered, curious but not wanting to ruin the peacefulness of the moment.
Jeonghan cracked an eye open from his spot on her shoulder. "He's dealing with it his own way."
"Dealing with what?"
He sat up straight to look at her. "You fainting. He's our leader, he's going to feel the responsibility."
She frowned. "It's not his fault though."
Jeonghan shrugged. "It's just how he works. He's going to blame himself for not noticing it all sooner either way. Even if it's not his fault."
She stood up, swaying a bit before steadying herself. "I'm gonna go look for him, is that okay?"
She could swear Jeonghan was smirking a little. "I think he'd like that."
She found him in one of the empty studios. Seungcheol was sitting on one of the chairs when she walked in, head in his hands. He got up quickly once he heard the sound of her footsteps.
"Cyana." He breathed out, thankful she was okay. "How are you feeling?"
"Better." She whispered, sitting down and motioning gently for him to join her. She watched him hesitate before he sat down next to her.
"You shouldn't have pushed yourself so hard." Seungcheol scolded her.
"I know."
"And you should've told someone you weren't going back to the dorm. You should've let me know how much you were struggling."
"I know."
He let out an exasperated sigh. "Tell me what happened. Everything leading up to today. I assume this has been going on for awhile."
She could tell from his face he meant business, so she told him without a fight. She recited everything - the skipped meals, the ditching hangouts, the sleeping in the practice room, the toothbrush and skincare hidden in the drawers - all of it. She saw his face twist in pain when she got to the part about the company officials.
"You should've told me." He whispered, once she was all done.
"I thought perhaps you didn't want to know." She admitted.
He looked astonished she would even say such a thing. His mouth opened and closed again as he reconsidered his choice of words. "I'm your leader, Cyana. I care about this team."
"And I'm doing my job." She said, not getting what he meant. Wasn't SEVENTEEN doing quite well? And the team would do even better if she was perfect for the comeback.
Seungcheol didn't know if he wanted to strangle her and cry. "Let me reiterate." He looked at her. "I care about you, Cyana. Not the comeback."
She blinked. "Oh."
He felt more like crying, Seungcheol decided. She looked so fragile and confused at the mere thought of him even caring about her. A burning sense of rage fuelled through him. Who on earth had taught her to be so skeptical of care and love?
Cyana panicked when she saw the tears in Seungcheol's eyes. "Please don't cry." She whispered frantically, not knowing what would happen to her if she saw the dependable and strong Seungcheol break down.
"Our maknae~" Seungcheol whispered back, reaching over to brush his hand against her cheek. "Maybe I didn't do well enough, to show you you belong here. I tried being a strong leader, guiding everyone through the comeback, letting you adjust to how busy life in SEVENTEEN can be. But maybe you needed more of a gentle touch? Something more personal?" At this point he seemed to be talking to himself. "I know I didn't really take the time to connect with you on a deeper level like the others did. I was so focused on guiding you through work. I must've done something wrong, if you felt like you needed to hide this much from me. Push yourself this far."
Cyana's lips trembled as she desperately held back tears. "It's not your fault."
"It is." Seungcheol corrected her quietly. "I always strived to be a leader you could tell anything to." He paused, looking at her with sad eyes. "I'm sorry you felt the need to break yourself so much to make this comeback happen. I'm sorry the company said such harsh things. I should've noticed."
Cyana felt the sudden strong urge to give him a hug. It confused her. She only ever felt comfortable enough to initiate any sort of contact with Jeonghan, Dino, Joshua or Mingyu. Yet, when Seungcheol finished his speech and looked at Cyana with those sad, wide eyes, she decided perhaps she could make an exception. She leaned slightly in his side, stiffing slightly when his arms wrapped around her frame.
"It's not your fault." She managed to say again, telling herself to relax into his hold.
"I know it's not logical."
Cyana let out a breathy laugh. "I am sorry I lied to Jeonghan."
"I know." Seungcheol pulled her a little closer. "Please don't ever do this again. All of it. You're much more important than a silly comeback."
She nodded. "I won't."
"I'll talk with the company about the whole test thing. They shouldn't have done that, or said those things. And you need to start eating." Now that he was hugging her, he could feel just how malnourished she was. He felt as if he could accidentally snap her just by moving the wrong way. "I'll talk to the stylists too. Everyone needs a good reminder that you're part of SEVENTEEN forever."
Cyana's face flushed. "I'm sorry." She mumbled again, feeling bad for making him so worried. "I didn't know it'd hurt you so much."
Seungcheol let her go, giving her a sad look. "I hated seeing you like that. You were so pale and fragile."
She didn't know what to do with the amount of loving words she was receiving today. She looked away awkwardly. "I'll be more careful now, I promise."
She could hear the smile that overtook his face despite not looking at him. "Good." He said. "Start getting it into your head that you're important."
Both Jeonghan and Seungcheol monitored her as she cleared out her drawer and any other sign that she had been living in the practice room. She promised them both that she'd return everything back home and that she'd keep them there.
"You scared me." DK whined. "I thought you'd died."
Cyana was grateful at how lighthearted the atmosphere was once her and Seungcheol had returned to the practice room. Everyone was still obviously worried, but they seemed to have all decided not to sour the mood further. Everyone had noticed the watery eyes from both Cyana and Seungcheol as they returned but pretended not to.
"I'm sorry~" Cyana smiled at DK's dramatics.
"Ah, hyung- it was your scream that scared me the most." Dino butted in, cackling at the memory. "I was mid move and I heard a blood-curdling cry. I thought I was in a horror movie."
The others laughed along, each of them relating to the younger boy.
Joshua sidled up to Cyana amidst the chaos Dino's remark had brought, holding her waist to support her as his eyes roamed her face for any sign of lingering fatigue. "You sure you're alright?"
Cyana nodded, grateful for the warmth radiating from his body. "Yeah. Sorry."
He shook his head. "No more apologizing. Just join Hoshi, Seungkwan, Myungho and I for dinner later today, okay? We're going to check out this new restaurant Hoshi found online."
"Okay."
From the other side of the room, Seungcheol clapped for everyone's attention. "Okay! We're resuming practice!" He looked at Cyana. "You're going home." He pointed at her. "Don't argue with me."
"What?" She protested. She was feeling fine. "I'm fine!" She insisted.
Her remark was met by a roomful of protests, even Woozi and Wonwoo joined in as everyone told her to get the fuck home.
"No really!" She protested again once the noise died down. "Please, Coups-oppa. I won't push myself too hard, promise."
She watched him think it over. She could practically see it as he fought himself. "Fine." He finally relented. "But-"
She paused her celebration.
"You're sitting out for practice. You can watch and take notes, but no dancing."
She sighed, but she knew it was the best she was getting out of him. "Fine."
As she sat on the couch, notebook in hand as she took notes on the performance, she couldn't help but glance towards their leader. He was working hard, giving 120% like he did with everything he put his mind to. She felt a glow of gratitude towards him. For a second, she allowed herself to believe that perhaps she did belong here, with these people. And perhaps him and Jeonghan were right - those people had just been mean and she was already good the way she was.
author's note: wahhhh thank you so much for reading! this one was quite a ride - writing about scoups as the leader always sends tears to my eyes, we truly don't deserve him. next fic is cyana's debut fic (finally!)
#seventeen ot13#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen imagines#svt#svt imagines#seventeen 14th member#svt fluff#seventeen#idol oc#idolverse#female idol#kpop x reader#kpop oc#kpop imagines#kpop#seungcheol x reader#jeonghan x reader#dino x reader#joshua x reader#hoshi x reader#svt carat
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I'm so tired ughhhhh for the past whatever months basically everyone who I've ever helped out with petsitting decided to take vacations one after the other so I've been running around doing that, and although I do love (most 😅) of the pets it's really not my favorite to stay at other people's houses. all my stuff is at home :( so that's exhausting.
I'll put some good things first:
-saw some snakes finally! I haven't seen as many this year as I used to. this one wanted to be a square I guess?
-SMOL CRAB
-took care of a friend's cat and he is an AFFECTION MACHINE so that was sweet (Sophie is not very affectionate. I mean she can be, but only in her own way, and because of that I really truly appreciate when she shows me any scrap of kindness lmao. but I miss having a cat that wants to just hang out with me…)
-despite being all over the place I have managed to play dragon age thank u gaming laptop - I'll do another post for that :D
cut for the less fun stuff~
some annoying/angry-making things that just all added up:
-phone had a spicy pillow battery situation, luckily nothing exploded or caught on fire (tho it got SUPER FUCKING HOT - thankfully I had a backup phone of the same model bc I'm not ready to give up my headphone jack)
-but when I transferred all my shit, an app I use for my job got cranky and I have no idea why! I've switched phones before and it's been fine! and this is the exact same model!
-the weather (hot)
-tendon in my elbow got mad when walking a new-to-me dog that likes to pull
-elderly neighbor had a health situation that I was the first one to discover (she's fine but. it was stressful)
-there are a lot of small flying bugs swarming everywhere. I keep walking into them
-elderly neighbor nearly fell multiple times when I was on a walk with her and her dog and I had to dive to catch her so she wouldn't faceplant
-which made muscles on one side of my back and the opposite shoulder very angry
-inevitably: swallowed a bug
-I walked a mild-mannered dog I'm familiar with but when some unleashed (friendly-looking) dogs approached her she started FLIPPING THE FUCK OUT snarling, lunging, barking (while my muscles were still sore from elderly neighbor incident)
-owner was like "oh I thought I told you. yeah she's started reacting aggressively to random dogs sometimes" ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ OK THAT SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING TO BE CONCERNED ABOUT
-🤬
-also angry at people who let their dogs off leash in public areas
-people who don't pick up their dogs' shit
-… people
-there were guests of that dog's owners staying at her house so I had to coordinate by text every time I went to walk her and… I know this is like. a dumb first-world social anxiety problem but. it was just exhausting. they were nice and it was fine but two weeks of texting strangers multiple times a day was just ONE MORE THING
-said dog apparently stole a bunch of muffins from them so while on a walk with me she had diarrhea. to put it... mildly. (she's a golden and has plenty of butt-fur) fun!
-allergies
-headaches
like. can i not be so tired anymore. that would be nice.
#life things#i know i basically disappeared from the internet lmao sorry but i have just been wiped#i think september will be calmer#i'm still not at home but i am at least in one place?
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It always seems a bit unbalanced on The Great Food Truck Race when there will be multiple teams who are cooking a wide variety of complex dishes with 10 different components and a bunch of prep work, and then there's that one team who like... exclusively serves plain crepes with some premade nutella on them, or plain waffles with just some whipped cream and cut up strawberries lol...
#AND then they'll be the winning team or whatever and its like... wow... imagine that... I wonder how its possible that they can get#more dishes out faster than the other teams... hrrmm.... lol#Not that they aren't still doing work like. obviously it's still hard and there's still a sales component and other stuff to be done#but It's just kind of unbalanced seeming when one group is serving like grilled shrimp sandwich with 3 homemade sauces and a#slaw and two sides and the other people are like... slicing fruit and drizzling a bottle of hersheys chocolate syrup on top of some thing#they just threw in a waffle maker for a few minutes#You see the footage of the teams cooking and everyone is like prepping a ton of different things and meat and vegetables and they have#boiling pots and pans and fryers going and tossing stuff in bowls and compiling these multi component dishes#and then That One Team is always just casually slicing bananas or doing some whipped cream in a bowl gbjhbhj#They usually dont even make their own caramel or chocolate sauces or anything. Nutella out of a jar babey!#So all you're really Making is like... whipped cream. and some sort of batter (waffle. crepe. etc)#If I got placed in a competition like that and I found out one of my opponents just sold waffles or pancake sticks or etc#like that I would just be like... okay.. I'm out then. bye. OR I would pivot and be like.. right I shall remove all complexity from my menu#whatsoever and just start selling plain balls of fried dough with powdered sugar or plain fries with nothing on them or something lol#update: OH my god.. one of these teams on a newer season is selling a 'bonus add on' where you can add#cinnamon sugar and caramel syrup (possibly not even home made by them???? just from a bottle) for $5 extra on your order#If I bought a $12 waffle from a food truck and they were like 'hey do you want to upgrade? for only $5 we'll drizzle a teaspoon#of caramel and sprinkle a little sugar and cinnamon on there!' I feel like I would cancel my order and walk away.#that is a $1 add on at MOST.. for a freaking DRIZZLE of caramel sauce LOL#and of course this team is in the top 3... squirrel.... come ON...#Which I know all these shows are fake and bad and whatever. I dont watch them seriously. I think I liked the first few seasons#but then anything past like season 4 (or whenever they started having established people who already ran food trucks on there#instead of taking a bunch of peope who had never run a food truck before and giving them one - which is a much more equal footing#premise to me) I have just been increasingly annoyed at and I really just have the show on for background noise#whilst doing chores or something and am not genuinely paying that much attention but... my god.. At least try to pretend its fair lol#WHICH I KNOWW... you can say 'well the other teams could do similar if they wanted.' or blah blah. tehcnically it's THEIR choice to#make stuff from scratch and not sell a bunch of packaged frozen chicken wings dropped into a fryer over a shitty 6min waffle or etc.#but... I will never respect a $5 for 1tbsp of caramel sauce type of situation.. even if they win.. you will always be losers in my heart#So many teams with real cooking skill & good concepts go home to the 'slap nutella on fried dough' people... how...
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going to a comedy open mic tomorrow mostly to watch my friends (it's at a cool venue that my improv troupe performs at once a month and a few improv troupe friends are doing standup there) but when these friends were asking if i'd be interested in coming they were like "btw there's usually a ton of open spots on show days if YOU want to do something... and they're not strict about it only being standup either, people have done character pieces and sketches etc like they embrace the weirdness... and they're not strict about time limits you could probably do anything between three and eight minutes... sometimes if there's not enough people signed up they'll even let you go twice..." and i'm like god damn it i thought i was gonna take a break from aubrey but this setup is like tailor made for an aubrey appearance lmao
#still on the fence about it bc the burnout i experienced at the beginning of may extended to aubrey#especially bc so much of my aubrey stuff is comedy about gender and my brain was more in ''set everything on fire'' mode#and i think i've gotten to a good place with that burnout but i still haven't worked on any aubrey stuff since i got home from college#but even still even tho my mental health is better than it was a few weeks ago#recently i have had this horrible insomnia where i haven't been able to fall asleep at night in over a week#(i've made up for it with naps but still i am not mentally 100% rn. i've tried so many things and nothing has worked.)#so that's my justification for *not* doing aubrey tomorrow. however.#i reeeally need to get more performance experience bc there's only so much you can develop a sketch character without performing them#and this venue is so good. it's an art gallery like an hour away that's designed to be part gallery and part performance venue#especially for comedy. like the venue owner is this veteran comedian who used to work with bobcat goldthwait and a lot of other big names#and it's a low-pressure environment bc everyone there has seen me do comedy before with my improv troupe#but they still haven't seen me do aubrey at all so it's bringing a new side of my comedy to some of my main collaborators#like this is so much better than my previous aubrey performances bc they were all either#1. shows in CLASSROOMS with a bunch of my classmates who generally don't get my comedy (very clique-ish)#or 2. a guest spot on a show at a coffee shop where everyone knew each other except me#plus the biggest thing for me is the lack of a strict time limit. like as much as having a good 3-minute monologue can be#i think aubrey is a character you need to get to know a bit longer than 3 minutes. and a lot of my stuff is long while also being very tigh#like not every monologue is like this but my best aubrey monologues are almost like aubrey is telling you a sitcom storyline#and removing too many lines makes the whole narrative jenga tower fall over#and as much as i want to figure out how to make every monologue a good starting point#having the chance to perform multiple monologues if i get to go twice so that they can build off each other would be perfect#idk i'm not sure how often the open mics are there. at least monthly tho i might be missing next month's depending on when i'm in toronto#so like this wouldn't really be my only chance. but yeah i'm on the fence about whether to bring aubrey back for a performance tomorrow#i probably wouldn't do new material. i'd do the 5 minute version of my uncle reg monologue bc it's the one that's worked best so far#and if i get to do multiple. maybe i'd do the ''nom de plum'' monologue bc i think it's also very strong#and it has a good callback to uncle reg#but idk i also think doing the song would be very fun and on-theme since it's pride month and the song is a satire of rainbow capitalism#tho i'd probably have to rework the monologue that leads into the song bc even tho i loved the concept i don't think i articulated it well#or i could write an entirely different lead-in and make the previous monologue (''C/H/M'') a separate thing to revise later#which would probably go better and somehow be less work to write. but even so i don't know what the venue's sound setup is
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:-)
#I've spent the past week organizing in the play's wake - sorting and laundering huge numbers of costumes#some to return to those they belong to and some to come home to my costume storage room which had become chaotic over the last few#months#so a complete spring cleaning for the storage room became part of my task list too. Now the play's been over for a week#and the emails are starting to come in from admin about next year. As some of you know I did a lot of discernment this semester#about what next year should look like and I have decided a mix of continuity is best. I won't be working for my 'main' schoolboard anymore#but I will continue to teach and direct for the one program in the city (the one I did the play for) and possibly with a new home school#enrichment program that may go ahead this year if there are sufficient numbers. Otherwise I am going to spend a semester#tutoring and running workshops f I can get it off the ground. Then we'll see.#Anyway - admin wants me to get new syllabi in to them within a month's time so my thoughts are all in that direction!#I get to teach 19th/20th century Canadian history to the middle schoolers and Late Antique/Medieval Church History to the high schoolers!#Also direct another play and do a humanities course centred around an epic in the spring (the last couple of years we've done Iliad and#Odyssey - they want Aeneid this year but I am trying to talk them into another option. The Aeneid is valuable but I am not sure it's the#time or place with this group of students. The result of all this is that I am spending far too much time doing Internet research for ideas#and then taking breaks on tumblr - which isn't good for my eyes or mental health. What with the play and end of term#I fear I've been out of the reading habit. I'm still hyperfixating on the Book of Romans so there's that at least#but I lost the novel I was in the middle of and am not feeling so motivating with out books. It's a proper reading slump! I need a kickstar#of sorts. Feel free to yell at me that I should pick up a book!
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been shitting myself over joining one of these outdoor socials but I was rly brave + showed up to one of them but there's no one HERRREEEE
#AM I IN THE WRONG PLACE???????? girl help I'm still new to [city] idk my way around that well 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#at least its not as embarrassing as it could bc cuz the parkrun just ended so theres tons of ppl milling around in gym gear#i blend right in...#this is so sad tho i was hyped now im gonna have to go home tail between my legs and do a weight workout instead :^(((((#i think they normally meet in other places so hopefully next time. ill show up the right place LMFAO#I swear theyre in the wrong place tho. like this is the exact postcode and building they put in the ad????????#wish I had one of their numbers so i could text and ask where tf they are. or if it got cancelled#AUGHHHHHHHHHHHH#ok well. at least i tried that was so brave of me <3#.diaries
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The plan is to stay in this hell job until I get public service loan forgiveness but damn if I'm not having a month that's making me consider just quitting right now and having all $50,000 of that debt fall right on my head just so I don't have to be here one single solitary second longer
#this job has made me the villain to hundreds people's stories and the worst version of myself#and I am still very very very bad at it#I've crushed so many people's dreams and at least once a week someone tells me I'm destroying the only way someone can feed their families#I'm ashamed to tell my parents what I do for a living. I'm ashamed to tell anyone what I do for a living. I'm ashamed to be alive.#I'm not helping anyone and all I'm doing is hurting people. I feel like I've been hired by hell to stab the damned.#I don't want to be here. I don't want to do this. I've been crying every day.#And they just put the pitchfork back in my hand and tell me I'm not stabbing hard enough. I'm a bad person and I'm bad at my job.#personal stuff#local beloved holiday festival might shut down because of me. They didn't realize their licenses weren't good here.#Maybe it's not all my fault but I'm the one they're going to pin it on. I can't even go places to eat anymore. People recognize my face.#Had a lady greet me with “Oh‚ look who's here! Great to see you! BYE! ...ha ha. I'm kidding. Obviously. Come in.”#It's like...even when I quit‚ can I still live here? Everyone recognizes me‚ and they hate me. I don't know if this can still be my home.
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sibling situation
simon 'ghost' riley
cw: smut & plot, mactavish!reader, size kink/difference, missionary sex, unprotected sex, marriage & babies (at the end), romance, simon's found family
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simon knew that johnny had a sister. you had been brought up in conversation tons of times. after the death of your parents, you and johnny were really all each other had. but johnny left for the military right before turning eighteen and you struggled to put yourself through university. it wasn't the easiest life and simon could understand, he had his own scars of his childhood.
"so, why are you dragging me out here again, johnny?"
"get ya out of that shoe box flat. got a little more leg room where i am."
johnny had driven the car all the way to edinburgh with a promise that a little time away would do wonders for the other man. simon had his ear talked off about how london was just too big, and while edinburgh was a city. it would be a break from the intense metropolitan of london. if need be the two of them and you could go on a getaway to the countryside.
"this better be good, johnny."
"ah, don't worry! i promise, you'll have the time of your life!" johnny reached over and slapped his friend on the back, "plus, you have to meet my sister."
the flat that you shared with johnny was well kept. of course it was, your brother was out most of the year with an automatic deposit for rent and when he was home, it was so ingrained with the military that things were kept tidy. and you on the other hand enjoyed tidiness as well.
even if cleaning the place in his absence felt a bit much sometimes, you still at least picked up your socks off the floor, put the clean dishes in the cupboard and washed out the carafe of the coffee maker. but you had worked over time to make sure everything was perfect, not for your brother (he could clean himself), but rather the mysterious guest that he was bringing.
you didn't want his lieutenant to think you lived like animals!
when the knock on the front door came, you happily welcomed them. your gaze was captured away from your grinning brother and rather the larger man beside him. he wore a black medical face mark, but you could see the tiredness in his eyes. the mop of blond hair and a slight scar over his eyebrow.
"oh, kid, this simon. simon riley, my lt." johnny smiled, patting his fellow solider on the arm.
you shot him a glance, "i'm almost thirty, johnny. i'm far from a kid." you were a bite fiery, simon liked that.
johnny beamed back at you, "but you'll always be my little sister. gotten into trouble while i was gone?"
you let both men in and replied, "well except for yelling at those stupid kids from the secondary school about smoking in front of my window. nothing else really happened."
johnny dropped his bags on the hardwood floor and kicked off his boots. he put them correctly by the door before he stretched his arms over his head, "where's that guy you were seein'. teddy or somethin'?"
simon stood a little straighter. of course you had a boyfriend, look at you!
you waved your hand, "oh, he's long gone. i guess cousin nikki's words are true." you looked at your brother, "never date a man in finance. turns out he had more than one bonnie in his pocket."
johnny dropped his shoulders and remarked, "never liked the guy anyway. seemed a little uptight, would never survive a gathering of the mactavish's." he laughed.
simon felt odd in the space. seeing the siblings interacting. he thought of his own brother for a moment. instead he just followed suit and took off his heavy boots as well.
you looked at simon, "i hope it's okay that you take the couch. this place is only two bedrooms. the couch." you gestured to it, "does pull out so hopefully you'll have enough room. but, if you don't, tomorrow my lovely brother can give up his room."
"my room!" johnny replied loudly, "i've still got sand in my crack for the mission and you're givin' my room!"
you shot your brother a glance which johnny coward from. no words had to be said. johnny knew that it would be the right thing to do. after all, simon was his guest.
the afternoon went by slowly, and you and johnny moved through the small kitchen like a team. johnny was good at dicing and you were good at keeping an eye on the sauteeing vegetables.
"simon." you said which made simon look up from his spot at the small dining table. your eyes met and you pushed some hair out of your face, "two things. one, there should be a headband on the table it's soft and used for make-up. i need to get this hair out of my eyes. secondly, johnny never said that you had any dietary issues. is there anything i should avoid? i just sort of got our normal grocery order."
simon perked a little bit more, "oh i don't have any allergies or anything, ma'am." he gave a small nod, "i could eat anythin'."
you nodded, "okay, excellent!"
the blond found in endearing. it was almost hypnotic watching you put together the vegetables with the hearty pasta sauce. you worked a stove top like no other. the only problem was that your brother kept getting in the way of his sight of you.
been a while since a woman cooked him a meal.
simon got up quickly and gave you the headband. it was soft and pink colour with two sewn on cat ears made of the same material. you put it on and simon's heart skipped a beat. you were just so beautiful.
dinner of pasta, toasted buns and salad were served with a bottle of grocery store wine. the three of you drank, ate and chatted. you and johnny had most of the conversation while simon enjoyed listening.
he figured out that he could listen to you talk forever.
"well, i'm tired." johnny said as he rubbed his eyes. he finished the rest of his wine before he got up. he patted you on the top of the head, "i'll do the dishes in the mornin'. thanks for dinner, kid."
you rolled your eyes, pouring yourself another glass, "i'm not a kid."
johnny chuckled then looked to simon, "she'll get ya comfortable for the evenin'. i'll see ya tomorrow." before his tired steps headed towards the bedroom. soon the door closed and the sound of his body hitting the bed could be softly heard.
you leaned back in the kitchen chair, one leg draped over the other with your arms crossed. you admitted, "it must be hard to date. finding someone who understands your world."
simon stretched out a little more in his chair. he eyed the empty wine glass in front of him, "i try not to think about it so hard."
"i've heard stories about you. the terrifying ghost. there one moment, gone the next." you then reached across the table to drag a finger down the inside of simon's wrist, "i wonder if i had you in my bed tonight, if you'd be gone by morning."
your admission made simon's dark eyes grow a little wider. he said, "well, i have nowhere else to go."
you smiled a little, "must be lonely. i know it's lonely for me. to feel close to someone."
simon asked, "do you want to sleep with me miss mactavish?"
you chuckled lowly, as to not awake your brother in his room. you leaned back a little once more and gazed at him. you were definitely johnny's brother. the look in your eye said it all. you tilted your head a little to the side and asked, "is it that obvious, mister riley?"
the sound of wooden chairs against the floor as the two of you made your way to the bedroom. you took simon by his tattooed wrist and got him into your room. the door was shut a little louder than you hoped. you turned on the light and simon was already working the belt of his jeans.
you were quick to get your t-shirt off and you saw simon's hungry gaze on you as you became free of your clothes. his eyes raked the exposed skin and thought you looked like a dream.
"like what you see, simon?"
he nodded, "more beautiful than the photos, ma'am."
you covered your mouth while you giggled, "no need for the formalities. if my brother is underranked by you, then i'm sure as hell as a civilian."
simon got a hold of your waist, "you deserve a little more respect than your brother." then pulled you in for a soft kiss. even with his scars that you had seen over dinner. you thought he was beautiful.
it made you warm all over as you pulled the dark t-shirt on his shoulders. he helped you get out of it. and your hands pressed against his chest. you admired the scars, the tattoos, the overall beauty of him.
"i wish my brother had said his lt was hot prior. i would've tried to get with you sooner."
simon picked you up by the waist, your legs wrapped around his waist as he brought you to the bed and sat you down. he then started to work at the button of your jeans. once they were off, he cupped the bulge in his pants.
you slipped out of your simple purple panties and the white bra you wore. you then laid out on your bed with your hands behind your head and you giggled softly.
simon was absolutely smitten by you. he had come to the conclusion that when they were talking about the beauties in scotland. they meant you. and only you. once you were both naked, he got onto the bed.
the bed was a bit smaller than he had hoped, but you two could fit into it thankfully. he was worried that his large, bulkier frame would inch you off of the mattress. but it was a lot easier when he got between your legs. his achy erection, bright red at the tip, begged for attention.
you swallowed a little, "i wonder if it'll fit."
"then you tell me if it does. got it? you mactavish's have a habit of not showing pain." simon gave you a pointed gaze.
you covered your face for a minute, "okay. talk about my brother ends here. i don't want to hear about him while you're balls deep inside of me."
simon chuckled lightly and leaned in for another kiss. he said softly, close to your lips, "if it's anything, love. you're much more a looker than he is."
you held onto his blond locks and pulled him in for a hot kiss. you made a small noise when he shifted your hips up against him. to get a better angle of his cock inside of you.
"simon."
he said softly, his voice still gravely, "beautiful, beautiful girl. i don't know what that last boyfriend of yours was thinkin'. why want another when he could have you. but, i guess that means more for me."
your cheeks grew hot and simon pressed his cock up against you wet slit. you felt your heartbeat race at the anticipation of what was to come. you tensed up at the feeling of his cock being pushed into it.
"i got ya, i got ya. you feel so good there, love."
you nodded, "it's been a while. sorry if i'm too.. tight."
simon loomed over you like a comforting shadow. he gazed down at you, but there was a softness to his tired eyes. you didn't realize how pretty his eyes were. a deep dark brown, that lured you in while in the soft lighting of your bedroom.
he started to move against you and you let out a small moan. the bed squeaked a little bit. thankfully the frame didn't hit the wall. you two had to be somewhat quiet. even if your brother could be heard snoring in the room next to yours.
the sex between you two was quick, but not rough. the idea of bruising such a beauty made simon feel disgusted. you were meant to be cherished. he wanted to know everything about you.
"you are quite handsome, simon."
"thank you, love." he said softly as he held onto your thighs and moved against you. even in missionary you looked beautiful. the slight bounce of your breasts in time with his movements. he wanted to kiss all your soft parts throughout his visit in your sweet home.
he could get used to a warm meal and a warm cunt to bury himself into every night. maybe johnny was right, staying with you was better than being in london.
maybe he could get used to scotland.
he knew he could fit easily into the chaos of the mactavish family. if he could handle johnny, then he could handle you. at least he could fuck one of you quiet.
you felt your heart hammering at the feeling of it all. your noises were so sweet that it made simon need to bury himself deeper inside of you. he needed to feel all you could offer.
call him a sick puppy, but his brain was now wired to need you. you were a hit of a feeling that simon was so painfully unfamiliar with that it almost scared him. but as he admired the sight of you under him.
those soft lips partially opened, your eyes closed. you looked like an angel, and he swore he found heaven.
"beautiful." he said softly, his rugged voice made you feel like honey. gooey and warm, filling.
you came with your hands in his shaggy blond hair. your back arched as you felt the heat through you. you moaned a little louder than you hoped for as he continued to thrust up into you.
panting breaths between heavy thrusts as you laid spread out on the bed, letting simon move quicken his pace to reach his climax. he could feel it on the tip of his tongue. and with a few more heavy thrusts, he finished inside of you. his cheeks flushed and his mouth hung open in a heavy pant.
"fuck, simon."
"beautiful." he said absently. not able to think of much else besides your beauty. you were the kind of woman that simon was into.
he pulled out of you and rested down beside you on bed. you chuckled softly, your head still a little full of post orgasmic bliss. you got the covers on top of you and cuddled him naked.
clothed would be a worry in the morning.
when morning came, simon tried to slink back to the couch before johnny woke up. but when he exited your room and entered the main living space. he found johnny sitting there at the kitchen table. he was leaned back into his seat. simon caught sight of the pistol on the worn wooden table.
"so, si." johnny said, looking away from his paper to look at his fellow solider, "what are yer intentions with my sister?"
it had been a very long time since simon felt the stone of dread in his stomach. he tried not to show it across his scarred face. simon could instantly recall every military statistic that johnny had. there could be a million and one ways that the scottish solider could kill simon. and it wasn't like simon could do anything, he couldn't kill your brother.
there was a brief moment of silence between the two of them. neither made a motion or noise. simon wondered what was to come next. no amount of training could've prepared him for this.
but johnny broke the silence with laughter, "i'm just messin' with ya! the gun's not even loaded. just wanted to scare ya." he leaned forward in his seat. he looked at simon, "i don't care how my sister sees, but i have to be a little bit intimidating, don't ya think so, si?"
simon chuckled nervously.
johnny's suddenly expression dropped and he put down his paper in favour of the unloaded pistol. he pointed the front of it to simon, one eye closed as if he was going to shoot the blond in front of him. he said, "but if you break her heart there, simon. i won't be so forgiving."
the doorway to your bedroom opened with a loud creak and your voice rang through the apartment the three of you were in, "I swear to god! john michael mactavish! you better not be intimidating him!"
-
"you're seriously crying?" you asked your brother as you watched him gently take a hold of your newborn. your brother was a military man for christ's sake. he was weeping like a baby.
simon loomed over his colleague, protective over his newborn. his stern brown gaze read simply, "don't fuck it up, soap." he was ready to jump in if johnny fucked it up.
you were resting back in the hospital room, you just had your child with simon. you two had been married for a little over three years. it became habit for simon to come with johnny post-missions. the drive up to the city and you waiting for them.
a hug for your brother, a kiss for your lover.
now you were watching your brother cry at the sight of his nephew. the chubby little boy bundled up in a blanket. unaware of his weepy uncle. you looked at him with a slightyl stunned expression.
you probably cried less when you finally pushed him out. you didn't want to tell him the news because you thought he was going to cry more. while your son's first name was oliver, his middle name was john. after the crying mactavish in the hospital room.
"he really takes after us." john remarked when his cries died down.
you chuckled, "he sure does, johnny. now hand him over before you drop him." <3
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