#idk why i never thought about it this way

[littlemillersbaby]

"sweet treat"

request: so um WTH UR JOEL FIC WAS SO GOOD!! It was. A great mix of serious and smut oml- anyways I wanted to request for him again I see alot of Joel x baker reader ? Gathered this is when they’re in Jackson but you could spin it to where reader was a baker and they meet outside of Jackson etc IDK I just need another fic I beg ty ty word count: ? warnings: +18 minors dni, really sweet sex, joel being flirty and grumpy. please let me know if i have missed anything!

even after the many years you've spent here, jackson still smells like rain-soaked wood and smoke this time of year. you’d been pacing the bakery’s wide-plank floors for ten minutes now, tracing little loops in the flour dust, waiting for him. and he’s late, of course. because joel doesn’t rush for anybody, especially not for something as "unserious" as baking, as he likes to say.

you glance at the tray of eggs you cracked, the mountain of sugar, the softened butter, and the dog-eared recipe cards you scrounged from behind the counter. miss shelley, the older woman who usually runs the place, trusted you to lock up for the night. “just don’t burn the place down, sweetheart,” she said with a wink, and gave you a key.

you weren’t going to do it alone. not for the town’s spring celebration tomorrow. you’d begged him for this—him of all people—joel miller, resident brooder, secretly gifted with his hands in ways most people never got to see, but you had. *wink wink*

“there’s nothin’ complicated about cookies,” he’d grumbled that morning, folding his arms.

“i want them to taste like something, joel,” you’d insisted, poking a finger into his chest. “not like regret and disgust.”

he’d snorted, mouth twitching at the corners, and after a minute, like it physically hurt him, he agreed.

breaking you out of your thoughts, the door creaks open, and you don’t even have to turn. the sound of his boots on wood is enough to make your spine straighten, a ripple of awareness climbing up your back.

“you bakin’ or throwin’ a damn science fair?” he mutters, already peeling off his jacket. his eyes move over the counter, then to you. you pretend not to notice the way they stick to your legs, the hem of the dress barely grazing mid-thigh.

“just tryin’ to impress the town,” you say sweetly. “or you. which ever’s harder.”

his brow arches. “you ain’t got to dress like that to impress me.”

you flash him a fake innocent look. “like what?”

“like trouble,” he says, low, making you glance away with flustered cheeks.

he rolls his sleeves up, exposing those forearms that should to be illegal. thick-veined, tan, dusted with salt and pepper hair.

you hand him the bowl. “start creamin’ the butter and sugar. use the wooden spoon.”

“bossy tonight, huh?” he grumbles, but he does it.

you watch the muscles flex as he works, the way his wrist moves in slow circles.

“did you ever bake with sarah?” you ask, casually. you two have spoken briefly about his relationship with sarah. he was very hesitant to tell you how she died, but after a couple of beers, he poured his heart out.

his jaw tenses, but it’s a soft thing, not offense or sadness.

“yeah...when she was little. she’d make a fuckin’ mess of it, but.... thankfully made the place smell like cake for a week.”

you don’t answer, just let the silence sit between you. it was kinda nice working in silence with his comfortable presence.

he looks at you after a moment. “you know what you’re doin’?”

“not really, it's a new recipe,” you say cheerfully. “that’s why you’re here, to try it with me.”

“should’ve known this was a trap,” he mutters.

you laugh, and you’re leaning over to grab the flour, one foot off the ground, hips tilted just enough that the dress pulls up—and you feel a smack.

a puff of white explodes against your ass cheek. you yelp and whirl around. joel’s holding a fistful of flour, smug as sin.

“did you just—”

“you bent over like that in front of me, ‘course i did.” he shrugs, not even sorry.

you grab your own handful, lob it at his chest. “you’re such a child.”

he lunges, making you squeal and dart around the island, heaving a laugh that feels good echoing in the high ceiling of the bakery.

“you think you’re fast, huh?” he growls.

“i know i’m faster than you, old man.”

“fuckin’—”

he catches you by the waist, spins you, lifts you onto the counter. your thighs part around his hips automatically, your breath caught in your throat. his eyes burn into yours, all the humor gone.

“shouldn’t tease me like that, darlin’,” he says. his voice is grainy and mean.

you stare up at him, pupils blown wide. you whisper, “do something about it, then”

his lips crash into yours too quickly to even comprehend. the kiss was completely savage. no sweet build-up or gentle asking, his hand cups the back of your neck, fingers threaded through your hair, tugging until your mouth opens wider under his. his tongue licks into you like he’s starved for it, like the taste of you is the first thing he’s allowed himself to want in years.

your legs hook around his waist, heels digging into the meat of his ass. he grunts into your mouth, grinding forward, and you feel the thick, heavy line of him through his jeans.

“fuck,” he mutters against your lips, voice thick with gravel. “you planned this, didn’t you? struttin’ around in that little thing—bendin’ over like you wanted my goddamn hands all over you.”

you nod, panting, lips kiss-bitten and tingling.

“yeah?” he hisses, gripping your thighs and dragging you closer to the edge of the counter. “then you’re gettin’ what you asked for.”

his mouth dips to your neck, licking and biting. his salt and pepper beard scrapes the sensitive skin as he drags his lips lower, working open-mouthed kisses along your throat, your collarbones, the tops of your breasts.

“take it off,” he growls, tugging at the hem of your dress.

you lift your arms, and he peels it off slowly, but the second it’s over your head, his control breaks.

“jesus,” he mutters, staring at you in nothing but a lacy bra and matching panties, flour dusted across your hips. “fuckin’ look at you.”

he sinks to his knees.

that's a sight to see, joel miller on his knees.

your hands scramble for something to hold onto as he spreads your thighs, dragging you forward until your ass is barely balanced on the edge of the counter. he kisses the inside of one thigh, then the other.

“you know what’s the best part of bakin’?” he asks, voice dark and close.

you shake your head, too breathless to answer.

“gettin’ to taste what you made.”

his mouth presses against the damp cotton of your panties, tongue laving up the center, making your hips jerk.

“you..fuck—joel—”

he hums against you, fingers digging into your hips to hold you still. then he hooks a finger into the waistband and peels your panties down, dragging them over your knees, off your ankles.

he looks up at you from between your legs, eyes firey, lips already wet with you.

“keep your fuckin’ eyes on me.” his tongue slides between your folds, slow at first, savoring you; he licks broad and flat, then teasing, flicking over your clit just to hear you whimper.

your thighs begin to shake.

“more,” you beg, voice breaking.

he gives it to you. sucks your clit into his mouth, rolls his tongue around it like he’s drawing circles on your spine. his fingers join the party—one thick finger sliding into you, crooking just right, then a second stretching you open.

his beard is slick with your arousal. he groans like he needs the taste, like your pussy is the only thing that’s ever mattered.

you claw at his hair, hips bucking wildly against his mouth.

“you gonna cum for me, baby?” he asks, tongue fucking back in before you can answer.

you cum with a choked cry, thighs clamped around his head, heels drumming against his back.

he doesn’t stop. just continues to lick you through it, makes you ride it out until you’re twitching and whimpering his name like a chant.

he finally stands, face soaked and shining with you. he drags the back of his hand across his mouth, but doesn’t wipe all of it away.

“never tasted anything sweeter,” he mutters.

then his hands are on his belt. the worn leather creaks, and the somewhat rusted zipper hisses. he pulls his cock free and it’s thick, long and heavy with a flushed red tip.

“joel—”

he shoves your knees up, crowding in between them, one hand wrapped around the base of his cock.

“look at this mess,” he growls, dragging the head through your folds. “so fuckin’ wet for me. you wanted it, now take it.”

he pushes in, instantly. his cock splits you slow, and wide continuing to drag along walls already swollen from his mouth.

you grip his shoulders hard, fingertips digging into muscle. he’s not even all the way in and your pussy’s already fluttering, already trying to squeeze around him like it’s too much—like he built it for you and you’re still not ready.

“joel,” you gasp, voice strangled, “fuck—fuck me—”

he stills, deep enough that your breath catches in your throat.

“you feel that?” he growls, hand cupping your jaw, angling your face up so you have to look him in the eye. “how tight you are around me? like you’re tryin’ to keep me in.”

you whimper as his cock pulses inside you.

“this what you wanted, sugar?” he grits through his teeth. “havin’ me take you right here? bent over flour and cookie dough?”

“yes,” you whine. “wanted it all day, wanted you—”

he starts to move. slow grind, hips rolling, his cock dragging against every single hypersensitive nerve like he’s trying to reprogram your body from the inside out.

“say it again.”

“wanted you,” you cry, fingers fisting in his shirt. “wanted your hands, your mouth—your cock, joel—”

he groans and slams into you, the counter creaking, your breath punched from your lungs.

“that’s it,” he growls, picking up the pace, fucking you deeper now, hard and mean and perfect. “you know how long i been thinkin’ about this? thinkin’ about takin’ this sweet little body—watchin’ that mouth beg me for more while you come all over my fuckin’ face?”

you can’t even answer him. you’re a complete mess, legs trembling, mouth open, just a mess.

he leans down, forehead to yours, panting against your lips.

“you don’t even know, do you?” he says. “how fuckin’ crazy you make me. God, the way you look at me, the way you talk—all that smartass mouth—and i been wantin’ to shut it with my dick since the day you showed up.”

“then do it,” you whimper, dazed and desperate. “joel, please—please—”

he pulls out and grabs your throat. not choking you—just slightly guiding. his cock taps your lips, stil wet with your arousal.

“open up.”

you moan around him as soon as he pushes in, filling your mouth.

“gotdamn,” he groans, head tipped back. “that’s it, baby...suck it like you mean it.”

you swirl your tongue around the tip, lips stretched wide. your hands grip his thighs, your throat working as he fucks your mouth slow.

“look so fuckin’ good like this,” he mutters. “slobberin’ all over me.”

you pull off with a wet pop. “want you back inside me,” you whisper, spit and precome slick on your chin. “please—want you to ruin me, joel.”

his hands are on you in a second—turning you, bending you over the counter, yanking your ass up. he slaps it once, the crack loud in the quiet bakery.

“ask me nice.”

“joel, please—fuck me. hard.... don’t stop till i’m cryin’.”

he drives into you in one savage thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

“you asked for it,” he growls, and starts pounding into you, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise you. the counter shakes beneath you. something falls off the shelf, shatters on the floor. yet neither of you care.

his balls slap your clit on every thrust, your juices loud and wet and obscene.

“you hear that?” he snarls. “that’s how wet you are for me. so desperate, so fuckin’ needy.” you can't help crying at the immense pleasure—tears dripping off your chin, mouth open on a moan that never ends.

“you gonna come for me again?”

“yes, yes—joel, i’m—fuck—i’m gonna—”

he reaches around, finds your clit, rubs it in tight messy circles. “then do it....cum pretty,”

your whole body spasms, toes curling, back arching, choking on a scream as your pussy clenches tight around him, milking his cock.

joel snarls, fingers digging deeper, hips jerking once, twice—then he comes. spilling inside you with a guttural moan.

you feel the heat of it, dripping out as he keeps fucking into you slow, like he doesn’t want to stop.

you both sag over the counter, chests heaving.

“...still think bakin’s for suckers?” you rasp, voice shot.

he huffs a laugh against your shoulder.

“depends what i’m bakin’ in.”

special tags: @inbred-eater , @wintfleur , @555aturn

[eddiegettingshot]

guyyyyyyyysssss no… look when bobby slammed his subordinate buck as well as a bunch of other people up against a wall it was different Because he was so sad :((( he was just sad and his mental health was bad But i could just feel the violence simmering in eddies veins when he grabbed bucks shoulder and pointed at him. like it just felt sooo violent like he was about to beat buck up because hes aggressive i was so scared and bobby just isnt menacing like that :( And when buck body checked eddie and sent him to the doctor because his ankle couldve been fractured the vibe was just different like you could tell he was being a big goofy baby he was just confused……. I mean he thought someone else was going to abandon him he couldnt help it.. The way eddie did it though he literally might have been holding a weapon he clearly was planning on knifing buck or shooting him.. he wanted to shed blood i could just tell based on his aura. Buck was just jealous because he wanted tommy so bad and it was just a game guys he literally felt so so so horrible about it . would YOU be able to apologize right away if you were buck and eddie had been so mean to you by not taking you to karaoke trivia??? He needed a kiss from tommy to show him who he is…plus tommy was endeared by buck maiming eddie whereas when buck is crazy in front of eddie, i just feel like eddie is on the verge of punching him or committing a Violent Crime of some sort for some reason. This is also why it was worse, when eddie Pointed angrily at buck, because while buck’s frustration was borne of an innocent heart, it almost seems like eddie is biologically wired to act like that idk… Or maybe he learned it from his dad?? you know what that culture is like. and Tk strand???????? okay don’t even get me started never say a bad word about my little baby Tyler kennedy…….. have you considered Carlos also has a sort of darkness lurking inside of him???????

[alientiime]

yapping about this (lore n thoughts)

- sonic’s jacket is mainly inspired by my oc adilenna’s outfit

their vibes are pretty similar and i’ve also drawn them swapped a few times

other inspos

- final destination (never seen it so idk why i was thinking about it) and madoka magica - omen valorant and hollow knight for shadow’s design - my oc stories: reapers are a big part of my oc stories’ lore, each reaper is in charge of one world and they all have their own methods of reaping a soul (e.g. one of them plants a seed in the body, buries it in the ground, and the soul will grow out of the person) but there is a reaper who just decapitates people for it so shadow's method may be similar to that, considering his scythe is just chaos energy

i lied there is some extra lore tidbits - nothing concrete on what it is yet, but sonic does eat an item of shadow's so that he can't reap his soul nor return to the underworld i guess - eventually shadow becomes disillusioned with his role because the Unnamed Reaper Organisation TM aren't actually guiding the souls back into the cycle of reincarnation, or they're doing something just as unfair as sonic escaping death many times. so sonic and shadow start to work together in a way, while other reapers are still being sent to get sonic's ass - there's a madoka inspired plot bit here where sonic's defiance of his death dates is similar to homura reversing time to save madoka, which inadvertently makes her become stronger in each timeline. do u know what im talking about. here it's about sonic's soul (also related to this is that there's a dlc plot point about sonic and reincarnations but that's not part of the main story and not........canon....to the au. as of now)

anyways im drawing a mini-comic for this let's hope i can finish it

for anyone that actually read this, an early look at some new drawings for this

[soangelbaby]

can you do one with bigbro rafe where topper and kelce find out, but they lowkey fw it??? ily your writing btw !!

😏 this was kinda chaotic buttttt nonnie u literally read my mind n tysm bb ily TW ; INCEST don’t like, don’t read 💋 might be sum typos too idk 😞

“ugh rafey — it’s so hot in here! why do you never have the ac on when your gross friends are over?” you whine, arms crossed above your head, chest pressed out, top rising above your hips. topper and kelce are slouched on the sofa, legs spread, controllers loose in their hands as they fumble around with the controls. rafe’s sat back on the recliner opposite of them, he glances to you briefly, eyes scanning over your outfit, stopping on your bare thighs barely covered by black spandex. exhaling through his nose, head snapping back to the tv, “get the hell out,” he mutters, loud enough for you to hear and deep enough to send a shiver up your spine, because he was giving you the exact reaction you wanted. you bit your lip to hide your smirk, stepping deeper into the den, pushing hair back that was sticking to your face, “i’m serious rafe!” huffing, hands flying to your hips, stomping at the floor like a child throwing a tantrum, “everytime you have them over—”

kelce leans over muttering something to topper with a smirk on his face as both their eyes trail down your frame. rafe’s jaw clenches and he rises from his seat, still trying to mask how much you’re affecting him, “i said get. out.” he repeats stepping closer to you, pointing towards the door. your breath catches in your throat, blinking up at him, he’s so close and so angry, you could literally feel the heat radiating from his body. “make me,” you say, voice full of challenge and defiance, tilting your head up and crossing your arms. rafe watches you for a second, tongue poking into his cheek before he reaches out snatching your wrist, “you wanna act like a slut? keep testing me,”

now he was making them watch, tugging your little shorts and panties down to your ankles, kelce and topper were in shock, but not because they didn’t think rafe was capable, they knew he was sick and fucked up. but the way you practically begged for it from the start? that’s what got them going, “you wanted this huh? acting like a little whore in front of my boys, wanted them to see you get ruined?” you tried to shake your head, whimpering ‘no’ but rafe doesn’t appreciate that, reaching up to slap you hard across the face, “don’t fuckin’ lie, say you wanted it, slut” you can already feel his dick lining up with your slit, daring to push in. and you do, crying out for your big brother’s dick in front of his friends.

“what the fuck is going on in this house?” kelce choked out under his breath, despite his eyes being glued to where rafe’s cock teases your cunt. topper’s already slipping his hand into his sweats, no shame, rubbing at his throbbing shaft, “bro, you’re sick” kelce mutters to topper, shifting in his seat. topper groans, “you’re watching too — don’t pretend you’re not into it,”

rafe shoves into you, no preparation, tip kissing your cervix as he bottoms out, “ah — fuck rafe!” you whine, trying to move up the couch, hands pushing at his chest, but he grips your hips tighter, slamming into you again, “don’t run baby, you needed this remember?” slow and deep, making sure you feel every inch, you clench so hard around him, release already building in your gut, “rafey — please, s’too deep,” you’re trembling under him, furniture rocking against the wall, and his friends are still getting off to you being split by him. rafe laughs low, “too deep?” grunting, driving in harder, hips flush against yours, “should’ve fuckin’ thought about that before you strolled in here like a bratty little bitch huh?”

your mouth falls open in a silent cry, head dizzy as your brother bulldozes your poor little cunt. topper groans, thumb rubbing over his glistening tip one last top before he spills right in his sweats, sticky cum soaking through the fabric. kelce isn’t far behind, leg bouncing and hips bucking against his denim jeans, just enough friction to make him bust at the sight of his best friend fucking his own little sister, “fucking shiit—“ he hisses, eyes fluttering shut for a second. rafe just laughs, reaching up to grab a fist full of your hair, yanking your head back just for them to see your face. “you see that? see how pathetic they are for you?” his hand comes in contact with your ass, sharp sting of the smack sending a jolt through you.

“gonna cum in this stupid little pussy — maybe next time you’ll think twice before acting out,” rafe thrust into you so hard the couch actually slides across the floor, scraping the tile, your body locks up as your orgasm washes over you, body going limp under him, whimpering as you scream rafe’s name. and then you feel it, thick hot ropes staining your walls, animalistic growls falling from his lips as he bites down on your shoulder, “fuck — that’s my girl,” he pants, not pulling out, cock still twitching inside you. his gaze snaps to kelce and topper, “next time she’s gonna ride me, wanna see how fucked out she looks on top,” and the way they nod? you knew he was serious..

[towasdandelion]

HAI AGAIN <333 I KNOW I WAS JUST HERE . SO PLEASE tell me if i am pitching too many ideas i feel like im in your inbox a lot (┬┬﹏┬┬) THANK U FOR ALL THE WORK U DO (∩^o^)⊃━☆

this is an angstier one so if u arent in the mood PLEASE SKIP SKIP SKIP

what about,,, reader and the ghouls just had an argument, and immediately after they split up to cool off reader is texting them about how they're so sorry and how they want to make up nd they hate fighting with them. like reader is really sensitive to rejection so much so that they're crying at the thought of the ghouls not loving them anymore because they saw the Bad sides of reader T0T

IM SORRY I GAVE THIS TO YOU IDK WHY MY BRAIN MADE A HARD ANGSTY TURN. if u feel uncomfy about it feel free to delete (づ￣ 3￣)づ

(if you do decide to write this you should do whatever characters you want!! i dont want you to get tired of ritsu LMAO) have a good day youre the best (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Hahaha you can stay in my inbox as much as you want! Some coffee or tea? I have cookies too! (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ I like the idea, as angsty as it is heh. I decided to just pick the ghouls randomly and Ritsu just so happened to be one of them, what a coincidence right? (I really don't mind writing for him!)

They see your bad side during an argument

Jin didn't expect to see this side of you but he's aware how strong emotions can affect the way we behave. He doesn't feel any resentment towards you, if anything he's happy you reached out to him. Of course he wants to make up too. As soon as possible. But first, he needs to tell you how much of a dumbass you are for thinking one petty argument is all that's going to take for him to break up with you. You really don't realize how much you mean to him huh? Well, then get ready to be showered with most expensive gifts a man can find. (Yes, he prefers that over saying it out loud I guess he's not that good with words after all.)

Jiro's eyes widened when you just stormed out like that after coming to an agreement to cool off a bit. The whole argument definitely touched you more than usual. Instead of getting angry, he's going to focus on the causes of your behavior. He feels a bit of relief when you text him. But still, he needs to get to the bottom of this. He needs to feel that he understands you completely. Him not loving you anymore? Just where did you get that idea? Looks like he really needs to have a talk with you. And a cuddle session of course. He's not going to leave until he makes sure you know he will never stop loving you.

Romeo is too stunned for a moment. He never thought you could reach this level of anger. Usually he is the one with a bit of... anger issues stronger reactions. Just as he was thinking about this whole argument, a text from you pops up. Weird or not it makes him smile how you seem to be so embarrassed about getting angry. You're so silly it hurts... But how dare you think he's going to leave you!? He's going to abandon this whole 'cool off' thing just to storm over to you and demand an explanation. Though once he notices you cried, he will soften considerably, offering to hold you until you're ready to talk.

You're scared he's going to leave you after seeing you angry? Then imagine Rui. That guy is terrified. You're so going to break up with him aren't you? And after so much effort put into breaking his curse and finally being able to hold you... A message from you appears and it's all it takes for him to break down, but also to feel incredibly relieved. So you just want to make up too. He's surprised when you tell him you're scared he's going to leave you. How can you think about such thing when you're his whole world, and the reason he pushed forward to break his curse? After you talk it out he will come over and hug you tight.

Ritsu is taken aback but not for long. He will now sit and analyze which words of his were the most likely to make you feel this angry. He almost reached the conclusion but then a 'ping' pulls him out of his thoughts. It's a message from you. Naturally, he's ready to make up at any moment. And it's not only because he possesses good conversation skills. He just hates getting into arguments with you. He'd rather have your daily study session instead of wasting time on petty arguments! Wait, you thought he's not going to love you anymore? I guess carrying mock forms of marriage certificate in his briefcase means nothing hmm?

Sho is already used to Leo's nasty personality, so your outburst doesn't affect him as much. Sure, he doesn't like to argue with you but things happen and he's not going to be hung up on that. You're too precious for him to stay mad so he'd rather focus on making up with and- oh, a text from you. He's relieved to see you're on the same page but then you say something unexpected. You're afraid of losing him. Over an argument like that, really? He will really need to remind you that your relationship and his feelings for you are stronger than that.

[askoverkill]

ok i know what the Odile anon is talking about. in the old lady scene she says "Odile, young enby." and idk abt anon but this ENTIRE time i thought what she meant by that was "I am Odile - a young non-binary person" but uh. your last post suggests that she was just addressing Lupus 😭 so i see my (and probably anon's) mistake now but its funny that it happened twice. i kept thinking abt sending an ask theorizing why Odile's age AND gender changed in this au LMAOOOOO anyways hope u have a nice day <3

Omfg that's a hilarious misunderstanding and totally understandable! Yeah, like, I grew up with "now listen here young [lady]" and swapping to enby is unfamiliar so i can see why that'd mask the original phrase in a way that'd be confusing.

I also saw people misread the party's reaction of "old?!" "Lady?!" to imply odile isn't a woman but rather non binary. Truly the most accidental gender reveal post of all time!

The funniest part of this situation is that I DO subscribe to the idea that odile is trans and nonbinary. Like that is correct with me as an artist. Odile (and i) just have never been questioned on it and never brought it up. Like yea she's enby in my eyes. We can make that canon here idgaf.

Also I hope u have a nice day too ^^

[coolwyous]

┈─★ 𝙎𝙋𝙀𝙀𝘿. [ch 2: the first ride]

   ➴ wc + a/n: 3.4k. i like my hot girls a lil crazy idk about y'all! enjoy <3

   ➴ taglist: @urmom2314 @iisayfa @s-p-e-c-t-r-e-s @mei2yok @xochitlisbest @ccchuro @mannslvr @kristalag

   ➴ prev. masterlist. next.

you let yourself into megan’s apartment, still rattled by the whole interaction. 

“hey, are we ordering in, or are you trying to cook?” you call out, kicking off your shoes by the door. “i’m exhausted, and lowkey hangry.”

you enter the living room, and staring back at you are several pairs of eyes, most of them looking visibly irritated by your invasion. one girl is laying on the floor playing video games, three are draped over each other on the couch, and another two are standing with megan as they stare at what looks to be a pile of papers on megan’s dining room table.

“y/n,” megan says quickly, clearly caught off guard by your entrance. 

“sorry, i didn’t know you’d be busy,” you say quickly. 

one of them, a girl with dark choppy hair, shoves megan by the shoulder and quickly snatches up the papers. “dude, what the fuck?”

“no, guys, y/n’s cool,” megan waves them off. whatever you’ve interrupted, they’re clearly not happy about it.

“i didn’t know you had other friends, meg,” you try to say, eager to diffuse the tension or get some idea of what’s going on.

“never mentioned us?” a green-haired girl from the couch deadpans, and you can tell it’s clearly sarcasm. 

“no,” megan grits, visibly irritated by their treatment of you.

“sorry to interrupt,” you say quickly, eager to get out of there. “are you doing anything tonight?”

“she is,” a taller dark-haired girl cuts in.

you try not to take it personally, but the invitation truly had you picturing bringing megan along, getting a chance to spend more time with her and hear her ramble about all the cars. megan was the car guy, not you, and the idea of showing up to this thing with just a stranger instead of your best friend sent a rumble of frustration through you. 

wasn’t megan the one who promised you a summer of time spent together, making up for your time apart?

“okay.” you stand awkwardly, waiting for megan to clarify. 

she groans and points to each girl. megan can be awkward, sure, but never in this prickly, caught-red-handed way. why is she being so weird about introductions?

“this is jurin,” megan reluctantly names them. “that’s maya, zuha, haerin, and hinata.”

“who’s the kid you’re letting play your playstation?” you ask, motioning to the younger girl laying on her stomach on the floor, staring up at megan’s tv as she plays grand theft auto, unbothered by the commotion around her.

“that’s yoonchae,” megan answers, her lips pressing together tightly.

“government names for everyone, i see,” the shaggy-haired girl, jurin, sounds increasingly frustrated, clicking her tongue with a seething glare.

you pull megan into the kitchen, lowering your voice. the others may be hostile, but you’re not about to be rude back. 

“dude, what is this, and who are they? are you inviting junkies into your home?” you question her, trying to piece together the dots.

“it’s not like that, y/n,” she shakes her head quickly, avoiding your gaze.

“then how come i’ve never even heard you mention all these girls you’re supposedly such good friends with?” you dig further, grabbing her by the sleeve to keep her from slinking off. “they’re looking super annoyed that i’m crashing your guys’ hangout.”

“we game together, sometimes get up to some stupid shit, but they’re good people,” she reassures you, her eyes avoiding yours. “i guess i never thought you guys cross over, so i never thought to introduce you.”

“something is off.” you glare at her, pointing an accusing finger in her face. “i know you megan.”

megan’s always had this guilty look when she’s keeping something from you. when she first started getting detention in middle school, when she first snuck out of the house when she was supposed to be grounded, when she first stole her family car to go take it for a joyride without telling anyone. she could lie when it called for it, but never to you, and what gave it away always was those stupid puppy dog eyes. she could never bring herself to look at you, stammering and stuttering over herself to the point that she was better off just being silent than trying to lie further to you.

you hated her habit of trying to bend the truth, but you know each time she’s done it is to try and spare you from worrying about her. you get the sinking feeling tonight is going to fall into that category. 

“we shouldn’t be whispering around them,” megan warns, pulling you back into the living room. “it’ll look bad on you.”

you’re in pure disbelief at whatever she’s insinuating. you nearly chew her head off then and there, but someone else’s voice cuts you off.

“you might need to start knocking instead of letting yourself in,” haerin says simply.

“y/n can stay here whenever she wants,” megan pushes back quickly.

“haerin’s right, megan. it’s in everyone’s best interests,” jurin says firmly. whatever the dynamic of this group is, you can tell that jurin is at the top, calling the shots. “everyone’s best interest, megan. ours, yours, and y/n’s.”

“i’m sorry for whatever it is i’m interrupting,” you say to the group, clearly able to tell you’re not wanted. you slip your shoes back on and go for the door. “i’ll see you later, megan.”

you see her jaw go hard, but she lets you walk out without another word. you go to your place and mull it over, finally deciding to get showered and dressed. you order an uber to the pier, and try not to hold your breath the whole drive there. 

you wonder if you should have given daniela your number.

the parking lot of the amusement park is absolutely packed with people, all kinds of cars and music blasting from different sound systems. there’s girls in barely-there clothing standing up against the cars, there’s all kinds of people arguing about their rides, there’s people shining their hoodlights and admiring themselves in their chrome rims. 

and the revs. the engines are insanely loud, as if everyone’s competing to rumble over each other. there’s one in particular, one that feels familiar, like a prowling jaguar slinking up behind it’s prey. you’re surprising yourself, but you could swear you recognize it. the one from the parking lot outside the auto shop at night. the mustang, growling, calling to you from the end of the pier. you let yourself wander and feel your breath hitch as you spot the car, far too familiar at this point, and the driver, proudly leaning next to the popped hood, talking to a handful of random people about it.

as if she can feel you staring, that hazel gaze comes up to meet yours in an instant. the smile that breaks out on her face feels paralyzing.

“y/n,” she says simply, taking you in. “hi.”

“hi,” you breathe, trying to remember how to will the air back into your lungs. “thank god your car is that loud. i didn’t know how i was supposed to find you with all these people.”

“i’m hard to miss,” daniela says simply, grinning at you. “but yeah, a phone number would make sense.”

she reaches over and takes your phone out of your hand without asking. whoever she was talking to about her car has clearly left her mind, as she doesn’t even bother to dismiss them, simply switching her focus to you.

“i owe you something,” she tells you, nodding as if she remembers something. she shuts the hood of her car and moves to the passenger’s seat, swinging the door open. you feel your chest tighten as she motions for you to get in. “i owe you a ride.”

“i just got here,” you say, surprised by the offer.

“it’s a quick loop around the freeway. we’ll be back in 10 minutes. it’ll be quieter, easier to talk,” she says, much too easily, much too calmly. her confidence is unnerving, the way she can disarm you with just a look. “i want to know you.”

your mouth goes dry at her directness. as if you’re possessed by something you have no control over, you slip into the passenger’s seat without further protest. daniela closes the door on you and gets in the driver’s seat, a few quick revs of the engine to signal for the crowd around her car to part, and without further fanfare, you’re disappearing into the night with a near stranger. 

daniela asks all the basic questions, but does it with an intensity that you’ve never seen matched before. it’s almost like an interrogation, like every question might be her last, like you may shut her down without further thought. her car is a manual, her left hand draped over the steering wheel, right hand shifting the gear smoothly and easily. you’re mesmerized by the movement, the grip of her manicured nails on the gearshift moving it with a smoothness as if it’s a part of her. you realize you’re staring at her hands much too long for someone you’ve only just met, and clear your throat trying to focus on the road. 

“did you grow up here?” she asks, as the two of you get onto the freeway. it’s late enough that most of the traffic has died down, with the exception of a few cars here and there. daniela weaves through them easily, her gaze flickering from the road to your eyes back and forth with expert confidence, both in her words and in her ability to not crash.

you nod. “you didn’t, though. where are you from?”

“atlanta,” she tells you. the quiet bass of a rap song she’s playing, paired with the hum of the motor, fill the beats of silence with comfortable noise. “i moved here to LA like a year ago.”

“more like two years,” you correct her, remembering when she transferred.

her brow arches, a smirk playing at the crease of her perfectly glossy lips as she steals a look at you out of the corner of her eye. “you were payin’ attention to me like that?”

“i guess that is sort of weird that i knew that.” you wrinkle your nose, feeling the heat flush the back of your neck in embarrassment. “you came in halfway through senior year. everyone noticed you.”

“you didn’t,” she says quickly, too easily, too confidently. she’s staring at you now, flicking her gaze back to the road intermittently. “not until that day in detention.”

“how would you know that?” you ask, furrowing your brow.

“maybe i noticed you first,” she answers back instantly.

you feel your fingertips tremble. how does this girl have such an insane effect on you?

before you have another moment to overthink it, daniela’s eyes narrow with something unreadable in them. you see her tooth gem gleam in the tail-lights of the other cars, the way her grip tightens on the wheel as her smile turns devilish.

“y/n,” her voice is low, almost challenging. “you ever hit the speed limit?”

“on the freeway?” you question, feeling uneasy in her gaze, but she simply glances once more at you, a silent challenge. 

“you ever forgotten the speed limit?”

you shake your head nervously, and you can tell this is her invitation into something more. you could tell her no, you could ask her to take you two back, and to end this all here.

but part of you is eager to see what she has in store, what she’s hiding up her sleeve, what hides behind those perfect teeth and those intense hazel eyes. daniela is terrifying, in a way you’ve never encountered before, and you’re locked as her prey for the night.

her eyes focus back on the road, and in seconds, she’s shifting the gears up and you feel the car roar to life beneath you, as if it’s woken up by daniela’s expert maneuvering. your body sinks back in the seat as the mustang speeds forward, the girl’s fingers reaching forward to turn the music up to a deafening level. the engine merges into the bassline, and with each pulse of the music, you hear the motor roar as if in response.

you see the spedometer lurch forward, faster, faster, inching towards the 100. you’ve never dared to go past 85, much less push 110 the way daniela is doing so.

“daniela,” you warn, grabbing onto the handle above the door, watching as the lights turn into mere blurs. your pulse starts to race as you see her hit 120, the butterflies in your stomach turning to terror. “daniela.”

she simply throws her head back and laughs, and the two of you are blasting past each car on the freeway. you have no idea how she’s driving around all the other cars, and you’re grateful that everyone else is staying out of your way, but as you start to hear people lay on their horns as you blast past, you realize just how absolutely dangerous this is. daniela is setting the two of you up for a fucking death wish.

“daniela, please slow down,” you plead, in disbelief that someone hasn’t called the police yet. she’s still laughing, as if you’re kids on a rollercoaster, and you feel your stomach drop as you see not a single ounce of concern as the engine only roars in response. her eyes are wide, dark and fixed on the road, and you wonder if she’s high prior to all this. 

a thought comes to you, mildly disturbing, but even worse is the thought that you might like it. 

(is daniela high off of the rush alone?) 

she slips around a car and you feel your heart in your throat at this point. you don’t know where on the freeway you are, and she’s going so fast, you can barely make out the buildings around you or the exit signs. 

you finally let out a scream as she shifts quickly into another lane without warning, your nails gripping into the skin of her thigh to try and get her attention somehow. your voice is absolutely desperate, your grip on the handle and her leg the only thing feeling like it braces you as you blast down the freeway, seemingly chasing death.

“dani, please, please, please,” you plead, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

you see her gaze flicker quickly to your hand on her leg, and you retract your hand with an apology ready. before you can manage to say anything, she hits a hard turn, the tires skidding against the road. your body lurches forward, and despite the rough stop, you’re grateful to see the speedometer drop instantly and bring you back to a speed that won’t instantly kill you should anything go wrong.

“back,” she says simply, yanking the car into a stop and pointing outside the window. you finally take in your surroundings to realize she’s pulled up back into the parking lot, back at the car meet, a full circle. you look at the clock— 10 minutes, almost to the second, just as she had promised. 

you quickly unbuckle and stumble out of the car, your legs wobbly from the pure fear pulsing through you. daniela is quick to step out and circle around the front to meet you, her grin unwavering, as if she didn’t just take you on the most terrifying joyride of your life.

you shove her away from you as she tries to approach, still wobbly on your feet as you try to get your bearings. 

“holy fucking shit— you could have killed us. are you serious? are you fucking crazy?”

“yeah,” she laughs, as if you’ve said something worth laughing at. her eyes are still wide, crazed, but now she’s fixed on you, her head tilting to the side as she takes you in. “totally fucking crazy.”

“not funny,” you shake your head, but your heart is racing, and you’re not sure if it was the drive or the way she’s looking at you.

“funny to me,” she quips back instantly.

“i’m glad you got a kick out of it,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“sorry for scaring you.” she pauses for a second, her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip before she grins something like a devil. she glances at the way you’re leaning on the hood of the red mustang, trying to stabilize yourself, before she takes a step closer to you, same devilish grin as she invades your personal space once more. “i liked the way you said my name.”

you feel your neck burn at the tone her voice takes. low, raspy, extremely tempting. if you weren’t so terrified from her whole stunt, you’d wonder if your legs would give out then and there. “i-”

“you liked it,” she cuts you off, telling you as if it’s a fact. “the adrenaline felt good. look at you.”

“i almost had a heart attack,” you push back, trying to stand up straight.

daniela, out of nowhere, takes your hand and puts it against her chest, letting you feel her pulse. you can feel the racing beats through the thin material of her top, and it nearly matches your own racing heartbeat. how can she keep her composure if she’s just as wired out as you are? 

what the fuck is this girl’s deal?

“playing with death makes you that much more grateful to be alive,” she says simply, her eyes staring dangerously into yours. she’s close enough that you can feel her breath against your arm as she keeps your hand in hers, the touch of your skin igniting you alive. 

you open your mouth to say something, but her gaze changes ever so slightly. she pulls her phone out of her back pocket and brings it to her ear, and you realize it had been ringing. either you didn’t hear it, or you did, and blocked it out, but she gives an annoyed huff and leans back, answering with a less than enthused expression.

“what, manz?” she says sharply, dropping your hand. you hear the person on the other side say something quickly, loudly, and almost instantly, you hear a loud commotion as a few cars at the car meet honk and peel out of their parking spots quickly, as if spooked by something. you watch in shock as people start to scramble, getting into their cars, chaos ensuing. whatever dani’s call was about is probably the exact thing that is panicking all these people.

you see dani hang up and meet your gaze, watching the chaos of the car show begin to fall apart. she grimaces angrily and grits her teeth.

“fucking zooks,” she growls, putting her phone back into her pocket.

“what’s a zook?” you ask in confusion, but you can tell her mind is elsewhere.

she grabs you by the arms and moves you out onto the sidewalk, out of the way of the parking lot, glancing you up and down. “did you drive here? do you have a car here?”

“i ubered,” you answer quickly, caught off guard.

“text me when you get home,” she says simply, as if it’s an order, before her face softens into a smile. she lets you go and starts walking towards her car.  “i had fun. let me see you again? tomorrow?”

“you are very straightforward,” you blurt, in shock by the complete change in her demeanor. she’s gone from predatory to angry to eager all in the span of just a few moments. 

“i could die any second,” she shrugs. “why not be about it?”

“where are you going?” you ask, dumbfounded, watching as she gets into the car and revs the engine up, pulling around to talk to you out of her window.

“don’t worry about me,” she waves you off, reaching out the window for your hand. “just know that i owe you, for scaring you.”

“quit doing stupid things and you’ll stop owing me,” you finally bite back, finally able to say something after feeling frozen all evening. 

daniela only grins in response, licking her lips playfully. she rubs her fingers along your knuckles before dropping your hand.  “aw, but where’s the fun in that?”

and with that, the red mustang pivots onto the street, disappearing into the night. 

barely a split second after dani leaves the parking lot, you hear the revving of several engines, much sharper and higher than the car revs you got used to hearing. if dani’s car is a cat, purring, roaring, the motorcycles are yipping and barking to each other, howling through the night like a pack of wolves. 

the motorcycles hover over the edge of the streetway, and like a park of apex predators working in perfect sync, hone in on chasing one car down. daniela is long gone, and you see the red mustang disappear in the opposite direction. you look around to spot the rest of the car owners scattering, pulling out of the parking lot and rushing to get out. whatever these motorcycles are up to, the drivers are clearly just as eager to get out of there and not fall victim to it. you wonder if the motorcycles are all police, maybe.

you’re frozen watching the figures, dressed in all-black, matching black helmets, even the bikes don’t have a single defining feature, all looking terrifyingly monochromatic. it’s like one driver, split in 5, or 6, or however many it is. you get dizzy trying to count them, the way they dip and dive around the street with expert precision.

realizing you probably shouldn’t stick around, you order the uber quickly, hoping it’ll be there sooner rather than later. you feel a gaze heavily on you, and when you look up, you spot it— a rider still on their bike, staring at you from the top of the hill. 

their visor is down, obscuring their face. you feel frozen, but considering dani had parked in a secluded spot of the parking lot, you know it’s just you that the figure is watching. the figure shakes their head and disappears onto the street, catching up easily behind the rest of the wolfpack. 

you try to shake it off as the uber finally pulls up and takes you home. still angry with megan about how she handled everything from earlier, you go straight to your place, not wanting to intrude again on her and her new mystery friends.

daniela’s devilish smile doesn’t leave your mind, even as you make it home and collapse into your bed. her smile doesn’t leave you as you feel your pulse keep racing for the rest of the night, replaying the events in your head. daniela’s smile doesn’t leave you, even when you close your eyes.

[pitconfirm]

Everybody says lance is a bad driver when he's literally been in a car that falls apart easier than a Jenga tower falls. Like did nobody see the whole steering wheel of the car pop off. Aston Martin is probably gonna be a team to watch out for in 2026 from what im hearing.

Idk how but this turned into a long rant from me about his driving and media perception LOL. tldr I 100% agree; more below the cut:

Honestly I’ve been thinking a lot about the way people have been talking about Lance lately on socmed despite having a really solid run of races. Cause I feel like it was never this consistently bad in the past except when things were at low lows, like the mid-2023 nightmare period where he just wasn’t clicking with the car at all. And I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that there’s been a pretty huge influx of fans who come into F1 only seeing the RPM-style hatred of him, and the jokes on TikTok about there being ‘19 good drivers and Stroll’, and people see this and genuinely think Lance is the worst driver to ever drive.

And it just makes this circlejerk of fans who don’t get that he’s a good racer because they don’t look at anything below the top 5. And then they see Lance in the top 10 in the championship and go “Omg? How did that happen?? I thought he couldn’t drive???”. I even see some newish Lance ‘fans’ sometimes saying “I know he’s a terrible racer but he seems cute 🥺”. But anyone who’s actually been paying attention to the midfield for longer than like. 3 races. can tell you that Lance isn’t the bad driver people pretend he is.

I think he just has a very specific skill set that can really shine in the right car and the right conditions. Like people call him ‘inconsistent’, but even though the 21-22 Aston was slow, he actually had two really solid and consistent years, just didn’t have the points to show for it cause he was always chilling around the p10-11 spots IIRC (but all of this is based on my personal and probably biased memory so… take it with a grain of salt LOL). He’s made some boneheaded mistakes in the past, but they get blown massively out of proportion compared to other drivers. And this year, he’s made fewer mistakes than most of the grid, which is why he’s still up in p10.

I think he’s a mediocre qualifier but a really really solid racer, especially in tricky conditions where others flail (Ann has a really good post here about why that is). I don’t think he’s really meshed with the Aston under the current regs, but I’m hoping the 26 car can give him the right stuff to prove something.

[ikyunho]

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[17:30] Myung Jaehyun ~ Boynextdoor

Pairing: idol mc!jaehyun x idol mc!reader

Warnings: lovesick Jaehyun, Idk I have no plot just a dream, this mildly devastating

A/N: I have never watched an ep of MCountdown without being overwhelmed and turning it off, Sohee I miss you.

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Anxiously, you flipped through your script and analyzed every highlight, note, and comment. You’d never done anything remotely similar to MC-ing for one of the most popular music shows in the country, so why did you agree to be their guest host? Simple. Myung Jaehyun.

He’d been nagging and begging you to accept the offer for weeks. When MCountdown announced they were in need of a temporary MC, the first person Jaehyun thought of to fill the position was you. What could go wrong? It was good promotion for you, and you could finally be with each other after being apart for so long.

There was one issue that both of you seemed to have forgotten. Your relationship wasn’t public, nor did your companies want them to be public any time soon.

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After nervously fixing your hair and committing your lines to memory, you and Jaehyun walked into the area where you would be spending the next several hours. His hand reached for yours to calm your racing nerves instinctively, only for staff to cough in warning from behind the cameras. The two of you gave each other a look before stepping apart to avoid a rise of suspicions and dating rumors per company request.

Seeing how quickly Jaehyun deflated into himself had a sad sigh falling from your lips. But as quickly as it happened, he put on a smile and acted like he wasn't disappointed. The usual puppy love filled look in his eye replaced with displeasure and frustration.

He had it all planned out. He was supposed to be with you, hold your hand, and finally spend more time together than the short sleepovers that resulted in someone being gone when the other woke up. You weren't supposed to steal glances at each other every time the camera cut hoping that no one caught you.

You both walk backstage for a moment under the guise of needing water. You're concerned and Jaehyun is visibly upset, effecting the usual fun and happy environment of the show.

"Jae... What is up with you?" You question, hands reaching for his worry covering your face.

"This wasn't how I planned for things to go. They don't care when Sohee and I hug or even get close to each other. I wanted to be able to actually be near you, not on opposite sides of the room," He answered, looking at the ground with a devastatingly cute pout on his face.

You let go of his hands to cup his cheeks, lifting his gaze from the floor to you. "I know this isn't what you wanted it to be like, but we can make it work. Now, let's go back out there, stand next to each other, and maybe I'll let you hold my hand when we aren't live," you responded with a slight giggle before dragging him out of the room, both of you smiling more than when the show started.

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The audience of fans quickly noticed the change in demeanor. Jaehyun was practically glued to your side, grinning and giggling like he was back in kindergarten. He didn't care about spreading rumors anymore. They weren't even rumors if they were true, right? All he cared about was you and the smile on your face that he loved so much.

The rest of the show was significantly better. Morale was high and both of you were beaming with joy. Your lovesick puppy was back, and you wouldn't have it any other way. To say the fans were obsessed was an understatement. Tweets with screenshots and clips of you together were going viral, the viewer counts skyrocketed, and it did wonders for publicity. All because Jaehyun loved you and was able to show it how he so desperately wished to do.

But if he asked you to come back as a host, everyone, staff and all would say no. He was happier than ever and views were up, but productivity was down seeing as Jaehyun was too busy staring at you with hearts in his eyes when the cameras weren't rolling.

It was safe to say that your first (and last) time hosting a music show with Myung Jaehyun was one for the books.

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[zepskies]

lol Totally tracks that she'd be questioning her life choices of how she got to this point.

A huge fucking pile of steaming hot shit, basically.

Again, couldn't help myself on the JP references 🤣

But what about Ben? Were you leaving him behind, too? Realistically, you knew it was the smartest choice. As wonderful, otherworldly, and addicting as that newfound, blooming feeling in your heart was, you knew it wouldn’t lead anywhere but into turmoil. This relationship didn’t have a future. Period.

Aw man, I get why her instinct is to flee -- and how ironic that relationship line is 😭 -- but I also get the feeling that her instinct in tough situations is to run from them rather than face them. There was a line in the previous chapter of like, "you hated facing consequences," and in a way, her powers kind of help her do that, even if they have consequences of their own. Reminds me of the old Once Upon a Time theme, "Magic always comes at a price." Feels very similar when we talk about V in The Boys world.

Dottie gifted you a warm smile. “Yeah, I’ve heard how you talk to him. I also overheard what you said that night about me at dinner. You stood up for me. Just wanted to repay the favor.”

Idk why, but here I almost worried that Dottie was setting her up for a future vindictive fakeout somehow, but I'm so glad that she was genuine here and reader earns her support. 💛

“And Grace got with a Kennedy?” you asked, not resisting the curiosity bubbling inside of you and seeing Dottie nod. “Which one?” “I think it was the oldest – Jack,” she replied. You gaped at her. “John F. Kennedy?!”

Still cackling over this and all subsequent Kennedy references! 🤣🤣

You shook your head, forcing yourself to look at him. “‘Cause you’re not a bad guy, right?” you said a little louder, feeling the drops of venom like castor oil on your tongue. And Ben picked up on it, his brows drawing together, facial muscles twitching as he tried to solve what triggered the change in mood. What happened between now and the moment you’d shared in the drawing room only a few hours ago? You knew you were being indecisive. You knew you were being unfair. But you couldn’t let go of that feeling. That tiny, tingling thing that kept gnawing at every bit inside of you. The feeling that kept screaming at you that something was amiss. It was there – right there.

Aw geez, it's like it's getting harder for her to distinguish between future/present and past/present, which, fair enough. 😭 On one hand it is unfair to current Ben, but in his words and behavior are early shades of what he'll become, and it's really hard to set that aside, especially when she can't explain any of this to him.

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck Dottie told you, but this-… this isn’t some game to me. You think I do this with everyone? That I’m using you because I’m bored? That I’m just some spoiled rich kid who gets whatever I want?” He stared at you, disappointment, incredulity, and betrayal swimming in his eyes. You shook your head, your heart thumping painfully in your ribcage. “I didn’t say that. But Ben... I don’t know what I am to you… what this is.” “You don’t get it, do you?” He scoffed bitterly, running a hand through the disheveled, dirty blond locks. “I’ve told you things… things I’ve never told anyone before. I’ve let you into parts of my life that I don’t show anyone else.”

Ben's not "wrong" here, but she also has a really valid point that he hasn't made it clear what they're doing, other than having fun and going on dates. This argument is just so damn compelling on both sides 😭😭

Ben rubbed his mouth with his fingers, head bobbing in thought. “Look, maybe I haven’t made my intentions clear enough with you, but I care about you. I don’t know everything, but I know that I want you. I want this. All of it. The whole damn mess, alright?”

Aw there we go! The first real confession...albeit drunk, but I can live with that. 😂

Ben cupped your cheeks, the kiss on your temple an oath. “I’ll make it work, okay? I don’t know what else to say, but I promise I will. I’ll find a way out of all this... for both of us. But I need you here. I need you with me. I can’t do this alone. I don’t wanna go back to that life without you in it. I just need you to trust me, okay? I need you to believe in me.”

Ok, he would've broken me there for sure 😭😭😭

“Well, thank fucking God you didn’t sleep with him,” Ben muttered as he tightened his arms around you. “I hate that guy. Total fucking pussy.” “Didn’t he graduate Harvard?” you muttered, feeling Ben’s jaw grind on top of your head. Yeah, you weren’t doing JFK any favors now.

lmfao how did we go from crying and heart-wrenching to teasing jealous Ben? I love it so much 😂😂

“Not everything is so simple, Dottie. Mrs. Brooks has always been a lady – always. She’s tried for years, but the man she married–” She sighed, her voice dropping. “It broke her. And now she watches the boy becoming just like him. It’s no wonder she retreats.”

I forget if we ever learn how Margaret met Richard in the future chapters, but it makes me wonder if it was arranged for her, or if she genuinely loved him at first. Or at least, the idea of him, or maybe a facade he used to charm her. Though he strikes me as a man to get married for duty's sake and not for love, considering all his side pieces. 🙄

“You’ve never been?” she asked, her tone a mixture of surprise and mild disbelief. You shook your head. “Oh, my dear, it’s almost a must for a young lady to experience. A proper tea room, with all the delicate china and the soft music in the background – it’s simply marvelous.”

I love her lol. She's so classy and lovely. And I love that we're already seeing the sparks of life in her returning! 💖

She had imagined, for so many years, that one day she would have a daughter to share these moments with. Unfortunately, that hadn’t come to pass.

Hmm, I wonder if it wasn't for lack of trying, or if Richard just couldn't be bothered to be with his wife. Both make my heart ache for different reasons, if only for Margaret's potential happiness to have a daughter. ❤️‍🩹

“Well, that’s nice,” Grace pressed through her teeth, her polite mask finally crumbling. “But you don’t get it, do you? You’re just the latest distraction, darling. Someone to amuse himself with, and as soon as this little rebellion ends, he’ll come crawling back to someone who knows the rules, and you’ll be just another notch in his belt.” Jesus fucking Christ, why did he always have to date the biggest bitch in the room? And you’d once thought Crimson Countess was a piece of work. But you grew up in a trailer park in fucking Jersey. If a girl like Grace thought she could scare you off with a few words, she had another thing coming.

lol honestly feeling scared for Grace at this point. Classic rich bougie bitch meets broke cutthroat city girl. 😂

Mrs. Brooks gave a gentle laugh, her gaze growing even more distant. “I was just a girl back then. I had no idea what awaited me. But when I met Richard, everything changed.” She paused, her voice darkening slightly as she pushed away the memories of her childhood, like the warmth they brought was something she couldn’t bear to hold on to for too long. “He was everything I’d never known. He was wealthy, educated, and had the kind of connections that I could only dream of. He swept me off my feet. He promised me a life of comfort, luxury, and security. And I thought, ‘This is it. This is everything I’ve been working for.’”

Ahhhh here we go!! It's so fucking sad. You'd think this would be her Hollywood happy ending, but it was just the beginning of her nightmare. 💔 I find it interesting that Richard pursued her, even though she wasn't part of the upper class. Makes you think that he had a glimmer of a heart once too (doubtful), or maybe he was just attracted to her and wanted her, thinking he could mold her into the woman he needed at his side, just like he's trying to mold Ben. His "love" is hard and cold as steel. 😥

Also we've talked about how heartbreakingly sad it is, how she talks about Ben as a child here, and how she's essentially given up on her own son due to Richard's influence.

Her eyes softened, her hand reaching over to clasp yours on the table in a sad understanding. “I know you do. But that’s the problem, dear. When you love someone like him, you’ll always be fighting a battle you can’t win.”

Out of everyone, Margaret's warning to the reader rings the hardest. That she doesn't want him to put out the reader's fire like her own husband has for herself -- it's really not fair to Ben, or to Margaret herself. I love that we see her later "reclaiming her fire," in a sense. 💕

Just so you know, I have read ch. 11 and have THOUGHTS. I will comment over on Patreon soon (and catch up with the latest chapter of Somebody I Used to Know because I need to know what happened after that awful "surprise" 😭), but I just want you to know that I love how much depth you've layered into this story. I'm getting something new with every reread, friend! 💛🩵

Time After Time – Chapter 7

Summary: Unable to control your abilities, you’re stuck in the present with Billy Butcher, his team, and America’s first asshole. At this point, you’ve become Soldier Boy’s personal punching bag. But when an accident leaves you stranded in 1942, you run into a familiar face and suddenly rely on your future tormentor’s help as your only hope.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x supe!Reader

Warnings: 18+ for language, reader is a supe with chronokinesis (time manipulation), 1942 says hi, SB being a nice and kind human, freely invented historical gossip, major angst alert & a bit of fluff

Word Count: 10.5k

Posted on Patreon April 11, 2025

A/N: Three angsty converstions in this one, three women, and one very upset Ben! Plus, a deep dive into Mrs. Brooks! If ya can't tell by the word count again, I clearly loved writing this part 😂🫶 ✨ Chapter title comes from The Wizard of Oz (1939)

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 7: Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My!

It had been an agonizing hour of pacing, second-guessing, and questioning everything that had led you here – to this strange, impossible life you had stumbled into.

A huge fucking pile of steaming hot shit, basically.

You hadn’t been able to sit still since Ben’s parents returned, your thoughts racing in a thousand different directions. Each time your footsteps neared the door of the guest bedroom, they became anxiously quiet and soft, however, not wanting to alert anyone to your presence. Every moment in this mansion felt like a misstep, a mistake you couldn’t undo.

The knot in your stomach twisted tighter.

You should’ve left a long time ago, but you had gotten too comfortable here – too cozy and snuggly with Ben, like he was your goddamn security blanket. But you cared about him and cared about what would happen to him, so the last thing you wanted at this point was to cause any more trouble for him, especially with his father.

So, you decided to leave.

You started throwing a few outfits from your closet onto the bed, only wanting to take the most necessary items before realizing you didn’t even own a bag big enough to stuff it in. But you had your magical remote control back, so your plan was to hit pause on the whole fucking mansion, grab a suitcase from somewhere, sneak out, and maybe rob a bank for some pocket change on your way out of dodge.

Yup, good plan.

But what about Ben? Were you leaving him behind, too?

Realistically, you knew it was the smartest choice. As wonderful, otherworldly, and addicting as that newfound, blooming feeling in your heart was, you knew it wouldn’t lead anywhere but into turmoil. This relationship didn’t have a future.

Period.

Either you’d lie to him for the rest of both your lives – however long that would be – or you’d hurt him. There was no other option.

Could you tell him? Could he handle the truth? Vought didn’t even exist yet. Right now, the Nazis were working on Compound V. To Ben, people gaining superpowers would be an alien concept.

‘Hey, uh, by the way, I have superpowers that let me control time, and I’m also from the future, and we don’t actually like each other there. And oh, yeah, you’re still alive in 2023 because some crazy Nazi geneticist will inject you with this serum that turns you into an invincible asshole.’

Nope, you couldn’t imagine that conversation going over well. He’d be either incredibly mad or not believe you at all. Then what?

Fuck.

With fingers trembling, you moved toward the window, glancing out at the muddy street, knowing the path to your escape lay beyond the mansion’s high gates. You were in a mess of your own making – a mess that had to end before you caused any more disruptions. His father was back, and that in itself was a disaster waiting to happen.

It had all been doomed from the start.

But then, just as you were about to gather your courage to finally get the fuck out of here, a knock at the door startled you from your thoughts and broke the tension in the air. Cautiously, you approached it, hand hovering on the knob as you braced yourself for the inevitable.

However, as you twisted it and opened the door a crack, your eyebrows shot up in surprise as you spied your visitor. It wasn’t Ben, his father, or even his mother.

“Dottie?” Your brow furrowed in confusion before you noticed the silver tray with a plate of food and a cup of tea in her hands.

“I brought you something to eat,” she said as she stood in the doorway, her expression one of tentative curiosity. You quickly wiped your palms against your skirt, standing a little straighter as she entered and set the tray down on your nightstand.

“Did Florence or Frances send you?” you asked warily. You knew you weren’t her favorite person, but she shook her head.

“No, just figured you were hungry since you’re missing dinner. I didn’t think Florence wants you starving up here,” she replied, her lips curling into something between a smirk and a sigh. “You dodged a bullet there, by the way. Family dinner is a bit… tense tonight. Lots of awkward silences and judgmental glares. Not that it’s something new per se…”

You were close to a migraine the way you strained your brow, blinking at the young maid in bemusement and shaking your head. “Thank you, uhm… I honestly didn’t think you cared about me… or even liked me,” you noted with an uncertain smile.

Dottie eyed you with a hint of mischief and approval in her gaze, a secretive smirk playing on her lips. “You’re not like the other girls who have come and gone through here. They fall over themselves trying to impress Ben, you know? But you don’t play that game. It’s… refreshing. You’ve got some fire in you. I respect that.”

“Fire?” You cocked an eyebrow, sitting down on the edge of the bed to nibble on your food. You were almost too nervous to eat with your ever-knotted stomach.

Dottie gifted you a warm smile. “Yeah, I’ve heard how you talk to him. I also overheard what you said that night about me at dinner. You stood up for me. Just wanted to repay the favor.”

Your lips hiked a smile. “You’re welcome. And thank you… again.”

Your head bobbed, your fingers playing with a piece of bread roll. You were unsure if you should be flattered you were considered special or uncomfortable with the apparently long list of girls that had waltzed through this house.

Dottie seemed to notice your unease and plopped down on the mattress next to you. “Anyway, I thought you might need someone to talk to. We all like you, you know? The whole house. Especially George. He thinks you’re the smartest woman he’s ever met. You’re different.” She shrugged and sent you another encouraging smile.

Cheeks blushing, you swallowed thickly and met her gaze. “So, things are tense downstairs?”

“Oh, yeah. The old man is furious because Grace’s father called him in upset, saying his daughter had been crying all night because of what Benjamin did to her,” Dottie told you and rolled her eyes back, scoffing. “All fake, of course. Charlotte, the maid of the Du Pont’s, said she was completely fine and consoling herself with one of the Kennedy boys when they were visiting in Cape Cod.”

“Whoa, hold on…” You vividly shook your spinning head and held up a hand, blinking at Dottie’s waterfall of information. “Du Pont? As in the chemical industry empire?”

“That’s the one,” Dottie sang in bitter nonchalance, a bit of judgment swinging in her voice. She clearly wasn’t a fan of the people she worked for – the elite families that not only excluded people like her and you but also disregarded you as human beings altogether.

“And you guys talk among each other? I mean, the staff?”

Dottie snorted a laugh, heavily nodding. “Yes, we gossip a lot. These people always think they’re better than us, but they got more shit on them than you can find in a pigsty.”

You weren’t as shocked by the revelation as you probably should’ve been. In this house, the gossip was as much a part of the walls as the portraits and velvet curtains.

“And Grace got with a Kennedy?” you asked, not resisting the curiosity bubbling inside of you and seeing Dottie nod. “Which one?”

“I think it was the oldest – Jack,” she replied.

You gaped at her. “John F. Kennedy?!”

Dottie giggled at your reaction. “Yes, I believe so. Do you know him, too?”

Innocently, you pursed your lips and shook your head. “No, no, not all. Just heard of him, you know?”

Jesus fuck, Kennedy might have gotten around as much as Soldier Boy. And if those rumors of The Legend were true, did Soldier Boy kill the future president for personal reasons?

Now you understood why the Kennedy assassination had attracted so many conspiracy theories. Well, you could check, theoretically, and see for yourself…

Nope. Don’t open that Pandora’s box!

“Look,” Dottie said after a pause, chewing softly on her lower lip in thought, “I’m sorry if I’ve been a little cold toward you. It’s not personal. I just don’t like the way Ben’s been acting recently. It’s... complicated.”

Your brows drew together as you watched the young woman next to you. “Complicated?”

She let out a dry laugh. “Honestly, complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it. You don’t know the half of it. You’re not the only one who feels out of place here, you know?”

“What d’you mean?”

Dottie leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a quieter, more intimate tone. “Ben’s a good guy, but he’s got a bit of a soft spot for… the wrong things. Florence talks about him like he’s still that little boy who needs his daddy’s approval. I know how it happened, you know – how he ended up with Grace? It wasn’t his idea. It was his father’s. And you know what? Grace wasn’t exactly an unwilling participant in that either. She begged her father to arrange the engagement.”

Her words hit you harder than you expected. You’d known about Grace, but you’d never heard the full story. “She begged?”

Dottie’s lips twisted into something halfway between a grimace and a smile. “Yeah, she begged,” she confirmed, hazel eyes glinting with a mixture of bitterness and amusement. “She thought she could change his mind, get him to fall for her. They had a fling, sure, but she knew Ben didn’t want her like that. They had a big argument about it a few days before. She stormed off, screaming he’d regret it.”

The weight of Dottie’s words pressed down on you, but before you could respond, she carried on.

“His father then announced the engagement at one of his parties here before even telling Ben about it. I mean, he didn’t even ask,” Dottie shared in exasperation. “Ben couldn’t stand it, so he rebelled in the only way he knew how. He found me, we got drunk and pissed off and then ended up in a closet together,” she said matter-of-factly, her tone flat and almost casual, but you could hear the bitter undertones of a scorned woman. “Ben had always been nice to me, you know? We’d gotten along, so when he came to me that night, I thought it was different. But he started ignoring me after. Couldn’t look at me – like I didn’t even exist... So yeah, I guess you could say I’m a little mad at him.”

You hesitated, studying Dottie’s face, looking for any hint of malice. But there was none – just brutal honesty. And you knew what this was by now. Just like Florence on your first day here, Dottie was warning you before you stepped off the ledge and fell.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Dottie said when you still sat in silence, “I’m not trying to paint him as a bad guy. I’m telling you because I care, alright? I just think you should know what’s going on around here. Ben’s got his demons, and his family is a nightmare. He can’t escape what his father’s set up for him. He’s got a leash on Ben, and the pressure’s never going to let up.”

Her words cut through the haze of your thoughts like a sharp blade. You nodded slowly, unsure how to respond. You’d seen bits of that pressure already.

“No, I get it. I appreciate it, Dottie. Thank you,” you said softly. “But Ben’s not like his father. At least, he doesn’t have to be.”

Dottie shrugged, as if the truth was somewhere in between. “Maybe. But Mr. Brooks got a tight grip on him. The kind of grip that can make anyone do things they don’t want to. Even Ben.”

A pang of sympathy reminded you of Florence’s story once more – and all the other cruel acts you’d witnessed in your dreams. Were you blind or just foolish for believing he could change the path he was on?

“Ben’s not as immune to his father as he pretends to be. He’s not as strong as he thinks. Don’t get it twisted. His father’s got his claws in him,” Dottie emphasized. “You’re not the first distraction Ben’s found. Just-… be careful, alright? You don’t know what you’re getting into, but if you’re going to be a part of it–,” she paused, her eyes flicking back to your scattered clothes all over the bed, “–you better be sure about it.”

“Thank you, Dottie.” You nodded with a heavy lump in your throat.

She gently clasped your hand on the bed in a comforting manner and then sent you a kind smile, pulling out a deck of cards from the pockets of her apron. “How about we distract you for a little while, huh? You know how to play Gin Rummy?”

Your lips rose to a smile. “I haven’t played before, but I’m willing to learn.”

Dottie giggled, shuffling the cards in her hands. “Alright, how about I teach you the rules if you tell me about college?”

“Deal.” You grinned.

The clock read past midnight, the only sound coming from the shuffle of cards and the occasional giggles and whispered stories between you and Dottie. The minutes stretched on as you tried to forget what was happening downstairs, Dottie’s words of warning still running on a loop through your mind.

It couldn’t be a good sign that two people in this house have warned you now, could it? Shouldn’t you listen at some point?

An abrupt knock at the door ripped the two of you from your game and disrupted the fragile peace, Dottie’s eyes widening in panic. You both knew who it was.

“Shit,” Dottie muttered and hurried to gather the cards from the bed, stuffing them back into her apron. She hid in a blind corner of the room as you moved to answer the door, not opening it more than a crack.

“Hey,” you said softly and feigned an innocent smile as you met Ben’s gaze, noticing immediately he wasn’t alright. His usually shining emerald eyes carried a glaze, his smile turning lopsided as he took you in with a leer, but the distinct smell of whiskey that clung to him like a second skin was the dead giveaway.

“You’re still awake. I was hoping you’d be. Came to check up on you, sweetheart.” He smirked with shaky pupils.

Before you could stop him, he stumbled forward into the room on unsteady legs and fell straight into your arms. His large hands found purchase on your hips, dragging you closer against his body. He captured your lips, eager, hungry, and with a sloppiness that told you he had a few glasses too many.

You were close to pushing him away, hands already softly pressing against his chest before noticing Dottie trying to sneak past him, so you deepened the kiss instead, your arms winding around his neck, causing a groan to rumble through him. But on her last step, the door creaked on its hinges, and Dottie froze as Ben’s head snapped up.

Glassy eyes wide, he warily turned to the young maid, brow wrinkling into more creases than a crumpled letter. “Dottie? The fuck are you doing here?”

You placed your hand on his arm, forcing him to look at you and ground him at the same time. “She-, uh, she brought me dinner. Florence sent her. She didn’t want me to starve. You know how she gets about food,” you deflected with a giggle.

“Right.” Ben nodded, eyes flickering back and forth between Dottie and you.

“And you know, I guess I got a little nervous, so she’s been keeping me company. We’ve been playing cards,” you added with a reassuring smile, already anticipating his next question as you watched the cogs in his head turn.

“Oh.” Ben licked his lips for a moment and then looked at Dottie. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Dottie said, sending you a quick look of gratefulness.

“And, uhm, Dottie?” Upon Ben’s call, Dottie halted in the doorway, shoulders tense on her way to freedom. “I’m sorry…” he said, surprising you both as you shared a raised look with the maid. “About what-, uhm… what happened, you know?”

“It’s-, uh, it’s okay,” she replied, eyes flicking toward you, clearly unsure of how to respond. You gave a slight shake of your head, and she subtly cleared her throat. “I mean, it’s not okay… but I-, I forgive you.”

You gave her a quick thumbs up, and as Ben looked over his shoulder at you, brow knitted in suspicion, Dottie quickly fled down the hall and closed the door behind her.

Yeah, you might’ve been coaching her a little in those last few hours on how to deal with assholes like him in the future (which you realized was super ironic). But if you couldn’t save yourself from that man’s charm, at least you could save the rest of your gender.

“Didn’t know you and Dottie were friends,” Ben noted, turning his full attention to you now.

“Oh, uhm, it’s a new thing,” you said quickly, and it wasn’t even a lie. You gave a shrug of your shoulders. “I like her.”

“Yeah? What’s she been whispering into your ear, huh?” His voice was rough, his fingers gentle as they brushed along your cheek.

“She didn’t say anything, okay?”

Ben’s lips curled, clearly not believing you. “You know, I didn’t mean to… hurt her.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt those people.”

“Heard that one before,” you muttered, scoffing under your breath. You averted your eyes to the floor, the motion causing Ben’s hand to drop from your face.

“What?” There was no anger in his voice, only confusion.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to look at him. “‘Cause you’re not a bad guy, right?” you said a little louder, feeling the drops of venom like castor oil on your tongue.

And Ben picked up on it, his brows drawing together, facial muscles twitching as he tried to solve what triggered the change in mood. What happened between now and the moment you’d shared in the drawing room only a few hours ago?

You knew you were being indecisive. You knew you were being unfair. But you couldn’t let go of that feeling. That tiny, tingling thing that kept gnawing at every bit inside of you. The feeling that kept screaming at you that something was amiss. It was there – right there.

And you still couldn’t fucking grasp it.

Ben contemplated, then smacked his lips, taking a step closer to you and ironing out his brow a little. “No, I-… Well, I’m no Boy Scout, but you know me.”

Your mouth opened and closed, lips trembling. You didn’t know how to respond. He was both right and wrong. But it all sounded too fucking familiar. It was that maddening feeling of déjà vu all over again.

One long stride of bow legs, and Ben was only mere inches away from you, warm palms cupping your cheeks like you were a precious gift, rough thumbs stroking along your cheekbones, and hot breath tickling your skin like a whispered breeze in summer heat. You melted in his grasp in a matter of seconds like an ice cube on hot asphalt.

“I didn’t mean to freak you out earlier,” he said, deep voice only a low murmur against the shell of your ear as he tucked a strand of hair behind it, careful like you could break in his hold. “Just hadn’t exactly broken the news yet that you’re staying here, y’know?”

“Ben–” You sighed, trying to clear the fog from your mind with a shake of your head.

“But I did now, okay?” he cut through that first brick in your wall of defense. The tip of his nose dragged against yours, coaxing. “I want you here, alright?” His lips ghosted over yours, a faint brush, barely there but enough to make you feel the heat crawling into your lower belly. “Had kind of a rough night. Thought you could make me feel better.”

He claimed your lips with a bruising force before he’d even breathed out his last word. The scent of expensive whiskey and nicotine enveloped you and clouded your mind. He smelled like he drank a liquor store and smoked a pack, but you couldn’t resist the pull – the desire, the chemistry. Your head was floating, but doubt still kept your feet tethered to the ground.

“Ben, don’t,” you said quietly, trying to keep your voice steady, but it wavered despite your efforts. “Not like this. You’re drunk.”

“Don’t give a damn. Maybe I need to be drunk to feel something real for once. I need this. Need you,” he muttered, words slurred, voice rough.

He leaned in then, plump lips sinfully trailing down the column of your throat. The world seemed to stop spinning on its axis, your heart racing in your chest as he slid his hand to the back of your neck, tugging you closer.

For a moment, you gave in and almost let yourself go, forgetting every drop of worry and fear that plagued your mind. His hands moved to your waist, grip tightening as he pushed you flush against his blazing body. But the blinking red alarm inside of you reminded you of the lines you didn’t want to cross.

“Ben…” Your hands pushed against his chest, gentle but firm.

He stopped then, breathing ragged and confusion gleaming in the lush green of his eyes. His gaze drifted to your face, lingering there, as if searching for something he wasn’t sure he’d find. “I want you. Don’t you want me too, hm?”

The air thickened around you, sharp and overwhelming, threatening to suffocate you as you wrung for words. His thumb traced over your bottom lip, heavy against the soft, pink flesh. His pull was magnetic, his need evident.

“I don’t wanna be just another distraction for you,” you said quietly, voice shaking slightly, heart hammering in your throat. You tried to sound firm, but the way his eyes held you made your breath hitch.

Ben stepped back, hurt flashing across his freckled face like you’d just knocked the wind right out of him. His presence felt too large in the room, his emotions pressing down on you.

“A distraction?” His eyes hardened, his expression twisting with frustration and something darker. “That what you think you are? What Dottie told you? She’s been filling your head with this shit, hasn’t she?”

You flinched at the mention of Dottie’s name, not wanting to drag her into your mess. You hesitated with a thick swallow, tension creeping into your shoulders. “It’s not about her.”

“Damn right, it isn’t,” Ben huffed, shaking his head. And then, his eyes landed on the bed – on your clothes spread out, half-packed. He froze, demeanor shifting immediately, color draining from his face. “What the hell is going on here? Are you fucking leaving me?” The baritone voice was suddenly sharp now, carrying an edge that cut through the haze of his drunkenness.

“I don’t wanna cause more trouble for you,” you confessed quietly, panic rising in your chest.

“So that’s it? Just like that? You’re just gonna fucking walk out on me?” His voice was jagged with emotion, gripping a handful of his hair in disbelief.

“No, but I-… I don’t belong here, okay?” you argued, your tone laced with desperation. What else could you say?

“Dammit, you think I don’t fucking know that?” His jaw tightened, and for a heartbeat, there was an unsettling silence between you two. “Look, I don’t know what the fuck Dottie told you, but this-… this isn’t some game to me. You think I do this with everyone? That I’m using you because I’m bored? That I’m just some spoiled rich kid who gets whatever I want?” He stared at you, disappointment, incredulity, and betrayal swimming in his eyes.

You shook your head, your heart thumping painfully in your ribcage. “I didn’t say that. But Ben... I don’t know what I am to you… what this is.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” He scoffed bitterly, running a hand through the disheveled, dirty blond locks. “I’ve told you things… things I’ve never told anyone before. I’ve let you into parts of my life that I don’t show anyone else.”

“I know. I just–”

But Ben cut you off, his frustration spilling over. “I’ve been nothing but honest with you. And this is how you repay me? By fucking running away? You’re not walking out on me. Not like this.”

Your heart stuttered, the words cutting deep and tightening your chest, aware he was right in a way, knowing he’d put himself on the line for you – more than you’d ever expected him to. But you couldn’t ignore the doubts that rose inside you.

“I’m scared, okay?” you admitted, your voice only a whisper, and it made his eyes soften slightly. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

Ben shook his head, huffing a humorless laugh, almost amused. “Oh, you think I can’t be trusted? That I haven’t given you enough reason to?” He stepped closer, his look pointed. “Kinda ironic, don’t you think? I don’t even know your real name. I don’t know a fucking thing about you, and yet, here you are, accusing me of being dishonest. You really think I’ve been fucking lying to you?"

You didn't respond. Silence.

"If you want to walk away, then go. But don’t you dare tell me you’re just a distraction. That’s insulting. I’ve been nothing but honest with you. I’ve given you everything I can, and you think I’m just trying to fuck around?”

You stood there, speechless, caught between the weight of his words and the fear that still clawed at your heart. Ben stepped closer again, his features softening just slightly, as if trying to calm the storm inside both of you. The promise of something more, something different with him, tore at the part of you that had been holding back.

“How do you know I’m the right person for you? You don’t even know what you want. And you’re right, you know? You don’t know me. Not in the way it matters. Not in the way you should,” you said, barely above a trembling whisper, the tears pricking your eyes.

“Then tell me,” he demanded, voice softer now, almost pleading. “Tell me who you are. Tell me your real name. Anything, really.”

Your breath caught in your throat, head shaking. “I can’t. I never meant to keep things from you, but I can’t tell you either. I’m sorry.”

Ben rubbed his mouth with his fingers, head bobbing in thought. “Look, maybe I haven’t made my intentions clear enough with you, but I care about you. I don’t know everything, but I know that I want you. I want this. All of it. The whole damn mess, alright?”

The raw emotion in his voice made you falter, but you couldn’t let yourself be swayed. You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be telling the truth. That there was something worth fighting for here. The vulnerability in his green eyes made your knees weak, cracking both his armor and your walls.

Ben stared at you for a long moment, the hurt, confusion, and anger warring on his face. Then, without warning, he took a step toward you, closing the space between you two for good, and you swore you could even feel his wildly beating heart in his chest. He searched your face for something, a connection to hold onto, his hands slightly outstretched like he was reaching for you.

“Maybe it’s not meant to be.” The words stung as they left you, the first tear slipping down your cheek.

Ben’s resolve crumbled then and there. He pulled you into his embrace, softly kissing the top of your head as you sobbed into his chest. And then he just held you like this for a moment. You’d never felt fucking safer while your heart was breaking.

“Hey, look at me.” Gently, he lifted your chin, wiping your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t want to change things?” He held your gaze, eyes intense as the weight of his words hung between you. “I can’t just walk away from everything, but I’m trying. I swear, I’m trying to figure this all out, but you have to let me.”

“How?” Your voice cracked, the fear of getting too close, of falling too hard threatening to crush you.

Ben cupped your cheeks, the kiss on your temple an oath. “I’ll make it work, okay? I don’t know what else to say, but I promise I will. I’ll find a way out of all this... for both of us. But I need you here. I need you with me. I can’t do this alone. I don’t wanna go back to that life without you in it. I just need you to trust me, okay? I need you to believe in me.”

You could see it then, clear as day – he was afraid of losing you, the desperation brimming in the green seas of his eyes. You were his lifeline, the last thing that held his head above water and kept him from drowning in his father.

“I swear I’ll take you with me, wherever that it is. I’ll take care of you. I’ll fight for you. I’ll protect you. All I need is a little more time. Can you give that to me? Can you do that?”

The heaviness of a decision almost decimated you, but for the first time since you’d entered his world, the fear of losing him was stronger than the fear of staying.

You nodded, hesitantly at first before it became stronger – certain. “I’m not leaving you. I’ll stay.”

The space between you evaporated then as he closed the gap, pressing his lips to yours with a force that left you breathless. His mouth was desperate, clinging to the assurance that you were still here. Still with him.

The kiss wasn’t just a kiss – it was everything. It was apology and regret. It was yearning. It was fear.

Ben was kissing you like he never wanted to lose you again, as if each second was a prayer that you’d stay. He pulled you even closer, his hands threading through your hair, his body so tightly against yours like he was trying to make sure you were real. To make sure he hadn’t just imagined this moment.

You melted into him, your hands gripping his shirt, your heart beating faster than it had in days, weeks, months, maybe years. The kiss deepened, grew more urgent, as if he was trying to tell you everything in the language of touch, in the frantic meeting of lips and breath – everything he could never say out loud.

You felt the warmth of his skin, the blazing heat of him, and you realized you both were clinging to the fragile thread that held you together, afraid to let go.

When he pulled back, both of you panting, there was a quiet between you that spoke louder than any words ever could. His eyes searched yours, his thumb caressing your cheek, forehead resting against yours.

Ben licked his lips, still holding onto you as he shut his eyes for a beat, his chest still rising and falling with the remnants of the kiss. “Look, uhm, I hate doing this to you right now, but my father wants me to leave with him for two weeks,” he told you, voice heavy with exhaustion before a dark scoff escaped him. “Wants to show me how business is really done.”

You cupped his cheeks softly, looking up at him. “Don’t let him get to you, okay? You’re smarter than him.”

Ben’s lips twitched with a small smile, nodding like he understood. “My mother’s staying here with you, but don’t worry about it. I doubt she’ll bother you. She doesn’t really care about anything. I told them you’re a friend from school, so just go with that.”

“What school did you go to?”

“Choate. It’s in Connecticut,” Ben replied, a hint of amusement in his smile, noticing how carefully you were solidifying your alibi. “But it’s an all-boys school. You would’ve gone to Rosemary Hall.”

You grimaced. “So, total sausage fest, huh?”

Ben snorted a loud laugh, throwing his head back. “Oh, you have no idea, sweetheart.” He chuckled and pulled you against his chest, resting his chin on top of your head. “You know, sometimes I wonder what school taught you all those words.”

You giggled, burying your face into his dress shirt. “Oh, college taught me those. You would know if you’d gone.”

“Ouch.” A deep and amused laugh rumbled through his chest.

“Didn’t John Kennedy attend Choate as well?”

Ben’s head tilted slightly. You could feel the movement atop of yours. “How do you know Jack?” He inched back slightly, peering down at you with a raised look. “Something you wanna tell me, sweetheart?”

You snorted into his chest, shaking your head. “No, nothing like that, I swear. I just heard of him.”

“Oh, so it was just me you were immune to, huh?” Ben retorted, but you recognized the playfulness in his voice. It was your favorite side of him.

“Guess so,” you teased, giggling.

“Well, thank fucking God you didn’t sleep with him,” Ben muttered as he tightened his arms around you. “I hate that guy. Total fucking pussy.”

“Didn’t he graduate Harvard?” you muttered, feeling Ben’s jaw grind on top of your head. Yeah, you weren’t doing JFK any favors now.

“Well, he didn’t make it into the Army. I can tell you that much,” Ben blew right past your point, making you stifle a chuckle. “Heard he got a placement in the Navy, though.”

“Huh. Kinda sexy,” you quipped. Teasing. “He’ll probably learn a lot of sailor talk.”

Ben’s lips pursed in amusement as he looked down at you and was met with your grin. “Yeah, also probably gonna be a real sausage fest on that boat.”

You let out a crippling laugh, burying yourself in his chest as he joined you. Of course he’d only learn the things you didn’t want him to learn.

Ben’s fingers then snuck under your chin, lifting your lips to meet his. The kiss was soft, gentle – a goodbye. “You’re gonna be okay here?”

You nodded reassuringly. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be here when you come back.”

Ben didn’t say anything, but his Adam’s apple bobbed with a thick swallow, eyes gleaming with a mixture of relief and gratitude before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. It was a tender, almost reverent gesture, and it made your heart swell.

Exhaling a long breath, he let go of you and turned to leave, his shoulders slumping more with every step he took toward the life he didn’t want. He paused at the door, his hand on the knob, and for a moment, he seemed smaller, more fragile, like the weight of everything he’d been holding in was finally starting to break him.

“I’ll never stop fighting for you,” he said with conviction as he looked at you one last time, raspy voice laden with words he couldn’t say. A promise. “Never.”

And deep down, you knew then that no matter how hard things would get over the next decades, you’d never let go, either.

The door closed for the last time that night, and then, Ben was gone.

The mansion felt quieter the next morning, Ben having left with his father for DC before the break of dawn. After getting dressed properly for breakfast for once, you descended the grand staircase, your footsteps quiet on the polished wooden floors.

You spied Margaret Brooks, Ben’s mother, sitting in the sunroom, but before entering, you decided to make a quick pit stop in the kitchen, where the faint murmurs of the staff seeped through the door.

As you stepped inside, the three women were busy at their tasks. Florence was bent over a pot on the stove, her movements brisk and efficient. Dottie was humming to herself as she arranged flowers on the counter. Frances, a bit more weathered and stern, was dusting the shelves, her eyes darting disapprovingly at Dottie, who had a tendency to daydream more than work.

“Good morning, ladies,” you said softly, your voice low enough not to carry too far.

“No breakfast in the kitchen, young lady,” Florence reminded you swiftly, which you countered with a knowing smile.

“Don’t worry, Florence. I’ll be outta your hair in a minute,” you said, making Dottie snort a giggle. “Just-… Before I go in there, can you guys give me the down-low on Mrs. Brooks?”

“The down-low?” Frances cocked a brow at you.

“Yes, the details,” you corrected. Half of your vocabulary was practically useless in 1942. “What’s her deal? Why is she so… withdrawn?”

After Dottie’s revelation last night, you thought you might as well make use of the love for gossip in this house.

Florence didn’t look up from the stove, her hands moving quickly with purpose. “She’s always been quiet,” she replied, her voice neutral but not unkind. “But over the years... well, she shut herself off. Hard to blame her. Her husband isn’t a good man, not to her or to Benjamin.”

Dottie, who had been nervously twisting the flower stems in her hands, let out a little sigh. “Yeah, Mr. Brooks is awful. He treats her like she doesn’t matter. And now she’s kind of… well, I think she just gave up. You know, stopped trying.”

Frances, who had been listening intently, fixed Dottie with a sharp look. “Not everything is so simple, Dottie. Mrs. Brooks has always been a lady – always. She’s tried for years, but the man she married–” She sighed, her voice dropping. “It broke her. And now she watches the boy becoming just like him. It’s no wonder she retreats.”

You could feel the undercurrent of sadness in the house, a grief that wasn’t just tied to the past but to the present, too.

“I see,” you said quietly, your mind racing as you thought of what you could do. You glanced at the three women. “Well, I think I’ll go see if I can say hi to Mrs. Brooks this morning. She must be lonely.”

Florence gave you a distracted nod, her attention still on her cooking. Dottie shot you a hopeful look, while Frances simply grunted in acknowledgment, not sure how much help you’d be.

You sauntered into the sunroom, the air cool inside and the glass panes still thick with the chill of winter. Outside, patches of snow clung stubbornly to the ground, a few spots melting into sluggish pools. However, along the edges of the garden, the first hint of spring dared to show – croci pushing up through the soil, small and defiant against the lingering cold as they waited for the thaw.

It only reminded you of how long you’d already been here. It felt like an entirely different life at this point. Had Ben been serious last night? And what did it even all mean?

He said a lot, but you weren’t sure your head woke up any clearer this morning.

The future was an unknown, and you weren’t used to that feeling.

As you entered, Mrs. Brooks sat at the small round table by the window, her face drawn, her green eyes distant as she stared into the steam rising from her cup of tea. She didn’t seem to notice you at first, and when she finally lifted her gaze, it was with a quiet recognition.

“Good morning, Mrs. Brooks,” you said, smiling softly. “I’m not sure if your son has mentioned me. I’m a friend from school. Benjamin’s been kind enough to let me stay here for a while.”

“Oh, I believe he mentioned something like that, yes,” she said in a soft, tired voice, her lips curling just slightly at the corners. “You’ll have to excuse me. I wasn’t listening to everything last night. I was quite exhausted after the long travel, and that boy never knows when to stop.”

“Yes, I know what you mean. Ben does have a way of going on, doesn’t he?” You smiled gently at her words and sat down across from her. “Ben did tell me a little bit about all your wonderful tea parties, though. He said you liked going to tea rooms as well. What are they like? I have to admit I’ve never been to one myself.”

At the mere mention, Mrs. Brooks’ posture seemed to shift ever so slightly. Her eyes sparkled, and you saw something like life stir behind them, as if your words had opened a door she hadn’t realized was there.

“Oh, tea rooms,” she repeated, her voice soft and reflective. “I used to love them. So charming. So civilized, you know? A proper place to spend the afternoon with a good cup of tea. I haven’t been to one in ages, not since...”

She trailed off, her gaze becoming distant again, but then something changed – her eyes brightened just a little, like a light flickering on.

“You’ve never been?” she asked, her tone a mixture of surprise and mild disbelief. You shook your head. “Oh, my dear, it’s almost a must for a young lady to experience. A proper tea room, with all the delicate china and the soft music in the background – it’s simply marvelous.” She sat up straighter in her chair then, the flicker of a genuine smile appearing on her lips. “I should take you, shouldn’t I? There’s one in the city I adored. It’s been years since I’ve gone, but I’m sure it’s just as lovely as it was. Would you like to go? This afternoon, perhaps?”

You couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope inside of you, seeing that flicker of light in her. “I’d love that. Thank you, Mrs. Brooks,” you said with a warm smile.

“How wonderful! Then it’s settled. We’ll go!” She clasped her hands together with joy. “Do you have something to wear? I could call my seamstress, Ms. Vivian, for you.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. Benjamin already did that,” you replied, hoping for dear life you didn’t have to endure another makeover. You were already sacrificing yourself like a lamb for slaughter by agreeing to this.

“Well, good.” She nodded and sipped on her tea, muttering, “Seems like I’ve done something right with that boy, after all…”

Well, judging by that statement, you were surely in for an interesting afternoon.

The soft tinkling of porcelain cups and quiet chatter filled the air of the elegant, well-lit tea room as Margaret Brooks looked across the table at you, her plump lips curling into a rare smile. She had almost forgotten how much she enjoyed these outings – the delicate atmosphere of the tea room, the soft hum of conversation. She had imagined, for so many years, that one day she would have a daughter to share these moments with.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t come to pass.

Instead, you sat across from her, eager eyes wide as you took in the ambiance. Mrs. Brooks noticed the nervousness in your posture, the way you clutched your teacup a little too tightly and stared at the other girls, feeling utterly out of place.

“Isn’t it charming?” Mrs. Brooks said, her voice light, almost affectionate. “I’ve been coming here for years. There’s something about the smell of the Earl Grey and the clink of silver spoons that makes you forget the world outside. You’ll grow to love it, I’m sure.”

You gave a nervous nod, your lips curving upward in an awkward imitation of a smile. “I’m not really used to places like this.”

You hesitated, glancing around the room at the white-gloved waitstaff and the carefully arranged plates of scones and finger sandwiches, wondering how many distractions Ben had found here and hoping you wouldn’t run into any of them. You could certainly feel the occasional looks and quiet whispers directed at you.

Mrs. Brooks chuckled softly, her gaze warm as she met your eyes. “One gets used to it. It's like breathing. I’ve been doing this for years, and there's nothing wrong with forgetting the world in here, just for a moment.” She leaned in slightly, her tone dropping conspiratorially. “Don’t be nervous, Cindy. It’s only tea and gossip, and we all need a little of both.”

Something in Mrs. Brooks’ tone calmed you slightly. It was as though she was slowly pulling you into her orbit – offering more than just a tea outing, but a sense of belonging, of understanding.

“Look over there,” Mrs. Brooks continued, gesturing subtly with her gloved hand, clearly eager to share more. “Do you see that woman sitting by the window? That’s Mrs. Berwick. She’s very fond of trying to climb the social ladder, always inserting herself into the right circles. Her husband’s a banker, but don’t let that fool you – he’s a dreadful bore."

You snorted a laugh and leaned in, intrigued despite yourself. You couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. Mrs. Brooks had a certain warmth now that softened her more formal edges.

“And there,” she carried on, “that’s Mrs. Hadley. She’s got more money than God, but she’s also got a tongue that can cut glass. No one dares to cross her, but I’ve never cared much for her. She’s the type who never forgets a slight.”

“Seems like they all have their… quirks,” you noted, amused, remembering Dottie’s words.

“Quirks,” Mrs. Brooks repeated with a smile. “Yes, one might call them that.” Her eyes twinkled as she leaned in closer to you, lowering her voice. “But there’s one thing they all have in common: They love to gossip. It’s their favorite pastime. And I’m sure,” she added, giving you a knowing look, “they’ll be more than eager to talk about you.” You stiffened, but Mrs. Brooks, oblivious to your discomfort, sipped her tea and continued. “Don’t mind them. They’re all still talking about Benjamin, I’m sure. The whole lot of them think they have some sort of claim on him. But they don’t, do they?”

At her little wink, your heart almost dropped to the sparkling marble floor. Did she know? But you figured it was easy to suspect if she knew her son even a little.

“Well, if it isn’t Mrs. Brooks! I haven’t seen you here in ages.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized the familiar voice. You’d heard it once before, even if it had been louder and more upset than now.

Grace.

Mrs. Brooks’ expression flickered momentarily before settling into something more controlled. “Grace, dear,” she said with a polite smile, turning her head toward the speaker. Her tone was cool, masking any warmth. “You’re looking well.”

Your stomach dropped when you saw the woman standing at the table: tall, blonde, impeccably dressed in a way that screamed money and status – poised and perfect. By now, you’d heard plenty about Ben’s destined fiancée, but seeing her in person was another matter.

Her blonde hair was sculpted into a flawless wave. She wore an elegant dress with the subtle sheen of luxury and a sharp gaze that seemed to take in every detail of you with calculating precision.

Grace gave a sly smile, icy blue eyes flickering to you. “I couldn’t resist coming by. I simply had to see Benjamin’s current project.” She tilted her head slightly, a deliberate gesture, and leaned down to examine you like you were a specimen under a microscope. “Interesting choice.”

Did that bitch just call you a fucking project?!

You didn’t flinch under her scrutiny, however. You’d been dealing with bitches like that your whole life. The only tragedy about this was that you couldn’t rant about her to your friends – the hot blonde, the gay redhead, and the mute Asian chick.

Fuck. Why the hell couldn’t you remember their names? You swore they were on the tip of your tongue. Was it Andy, Mabel, and Kim? No, that sounded wrong. Dammit!

“I think I’ve seen you before, right? And you are?” Grace asked, her voice dripping with feigned sweetness as she looked at you.

“Cindy,” you replied with a slight edge.

“Ah, Cindy,” Grace repeated, like she was tasting the name. “Such a... simple name. How quaint.” She smiled then, a thin, shark-like smirk, and you were blood in the water. “I must say, I’m surprised to see you out and about. Benjamin has always been so... difficult to predict. But I suppose you already know that, don’t you?”

Unbothered by her baiting, you took a casual sip of tea. “Oh, I know exactly who he is, Grace. Better than you.”

Grace’s smile tightened. “How refreshing,” she said, then looked over at Mrs. Brooks. “I do hope Benjamin’s settled down by now. I hear he’s been a bit of a... free spirit lately. He always had a rebellious streak. He gets bored rather quickly.”

Mrs. Brooks stiffened slightly, but she recovered quickly, placing her teacup down with a slight clink. “My son is a grown man, dear. He’ll make his own decisions, as he always does.”

“Of course,” Grace replied smoothly, though there was a clear, sharp edge to her words.

“‘Sides, aren’t you a bit of a free spirit as well?” you quipped with an innocent smirk. “I heard about you and Jack Kennedy in Cape Cod. How’s that going?”

“Oh, you are seeing Jack?” Margaret chimed in with delight, but you could tell her smile was as taunting as yours was.

Grace’s face fell abruptly. “Yes, it’s… going,” she replied quickly, subtly clearing her throat. Her eyes narrowed slightly, her lips twisting into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes as she leaned in, her tone almost too sweet. “I imagine you must be enjoying the novelty of being with someone like Benjamin. Here you are, in the lap of luxury. It’s a bit of a thrill, isn’t it, darling? But you know, I should warn you – Ben isn’t exactly the most reliable partner. I do hope, for your sake, you’re not just a phase.”

You were about to slap her harder than she’d slapped Ben at that diner. Would it matter to history if you choked her right now?

You forced a tight-lipped smile as you ground your teeth. “Thank you for the warning, but I’m not here to judge him for his past.”

If anything, you were judging him for his future.

“Well, that’s nice,” Grace pressed through her teeth, her polite mask finally crumbling. “But you don’t get it, do you? You’re just the latest distraction, darling. Someone to amuse himself with, and as soon as this little rebellion ends, he’ll come crawling back to someone who knows the rules, and you’ll be just another notch in his belt.”

Jesus fucking Christ, why did he always have to date the biggest bitch in the room? And you’d once thought Crimson Countess was a piece of work.

But you grew up in a trailer park in fucking Jersey. If a girl like Grace thought she could scare you off with a few words, she had another thing coming.

“You think you know everything, don’t you?” You looked at her challengingly, not an ounce of fear in your voice. “Here’s the thing – Ben’s not a puppet for his father. He makes his own choices. You’re not his future, Grace. You’re the past. Trust me on that one.”

Grace’s eyes blazed with a venomous glare. “Well, we’ll see how long this lasts, darling. I do hope you won’t make a fool out of yourself.”

You were about to open your mouth again before Mrs. Brooks cut in, her tone suddenly sharp, a protective edge in her voice. “Enough, Grace. We all know about Benjamin’s history. You’ve made your point, and it’s getting tiresome.”

Grace’s eyes fixed on Ben’s mother, a muscle twitching in her jaw. She clearly hadn’t expected that. “Well, it’s so lovely to see you two getting along. I mustn’t take up too much of your time, Mrs. Brooks. It was nice running into you both. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.”

With that, Grace stormed off, her heels clicking on the sparkling marble. You exhaled a slow breath, slumping back into your chair. But as you glanced at Mrs. Brooks, you saw the faintest glimmer of approval in her eyes.

“You handled her beautifully, dear,” Ben’s mother said, her tone soft but genuine. “Don’t let women like her make you question yourself. They thrive on making others doubt their worth, but you’ve got something she doesn’t – confidence and a damn backbone.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Brooks,” you said, your heart swelling with gratitude. “That woman really knows how to lay it on thick, doesn’t she?”

Mrs. Brooks rolled her eyes in exhaustion. “She’s always been like that. Charming when it suits her and venomous when she feels threatened. I’m almost glad Benjamin’s been so awful to her. God knows I couldn’t have endured another dinner with that girl in my house.”

You snorted under your breath, chuckling.

“You know, I was just like you when I first arrived here – someone who didn’t quite fit in.” Margaret leaned back in her chair with a faint smile, the faraway look in her eyes sharpening, a subtle sadness creeping into her voice. “Before I met Benjamin’s father, I came from humble beginnings, you know? My parents were good, hardworking people. We didn’t have much money – just a small house in the lower part of town. My father was a carpenter, working long hours, and my mother would sew clothes for other people, often staying up well past midnight, just to make sure we had enough to get by. But there was a beauty in that simplicity. I used to take walks through the alleys, admiring the flowers growing between the cracks in the sidewalks. We didn't have wealth, but we had love, you know? And we had each other.”

You listened intently, your heart breaking a bit for her, knowing that wasn’t what she had now with her own family.

“I remember,” she continued, a slight smile tugging at her lips, “how we’d all gather in the kitchen at night. It was small, but it was ours. My mother would hum while she worked, and my father would tell me stories about how he built his first house with his own two hands. He was proud of that. And I was proud of him.”

You couldn’t help but notice the way Mrs. Brooks’ voice softened when she spoke about her parents. There was a sadness there, a longing for something simple and real that had been lost somewhere along the way.

“I can’t imagine you like that. It sounds so different from who you are now,” you said softly.

Mrs. Brooks gave a gentle laugh, her gaze growing even more distant. “I was just a girl back then. I had no idea what awaited me. But when I met Richard, everything changed.” She paused, her voice darkening slightly as she pushed away the memories of her childhood, like the warmth they brought was something she couldn’t bear to hold on to for too long. “He was everything I’d never known. He was wealthy, educated, and had the kind of connections that I could only dream of. He swept me off my feet. He promised me a life of comfort, luxury, and security. And I thought, ‘This is it. This is everything I’ve been working for.’”

Your brow furrowed. “But it wasn’t?”

Mrs. Brooks shook her head slowly, the distant melancholy returning to her features. “At first, it was. But over time, I realized something. The life Richard offered me was a gilded cage. It wasn’t freedom – it was control. I was expected to fit in, to play the part. When I married him, I entered a world where every inch of my life was dictated by money, status, and image. It’s strange how quickly you can forget yourself when you're surrounded by wealth. People like this–,” she gestured with a faint nod around the room, “–don’t care about character. They care about who you know, where you’ve been, and what you wear. And even then, it’s never enough. You always have to be more.” She leaned forward then, her expression softening as she saw you swallowing thickly. “I know it sounds harsh, dear, but it’s the truth. High society is an illusion. People want you to smile, to wear the right clothes, to speak in a certain way, but it’s all just a performance. Your soul gets lost in it.”

“So, you never wanted this life?” you asked quietly, your heart breaking for her.

“I didn’t know what I was getting into. These women here, they’re not your friends,” she replied, her fingers curling around her tea cup. “They’re rivals. Each one of them trying to prove they are the best at being the most perfect version of a woman they can be. It’s exhausting. And no matter how hard I tried, I never truly fit in.”

“You said Benjamin was different when he was young,” you said gently, wanting to know more. “How was he before everything changed?”

Mrs. Brooks’ eyes softened, and for a moment, you could see the mother she had been – a woman who adored her son, who once had hope for his future.

“Benjamin was always sensitive,” Mrs. Brooks said, her voice full of tenderness. “He was a sweet little boy who loved to ask questions about the world. He was curious about everything. He’d sit with me for hours, just asking me how things worked, why things were the way they were. And he had this soft smile that would light up a room. I’ll never forget how he used to look at me, with such trust in his eyes. He would bring me flowers and tell me stories from his little world, and I would see the softness in him, the kind of softness a mother always hopes for in a child. People always said he was a ‘dreamer,’ and I thought he would always stay that way. I loved that about him. But Richard didn’t. Richard thought it was a weakness.”

Mrs. Brooks’ voice cracked slightly, as if the memories were too painful to recount. She looked down at her cup.

“Richard did everything he could to ‘toughen him up.’ He took him hunting, made him go to boarding school at an early age, sending him far away from me,” she continued, her voice drowning in sadness. “He wanted to shape Benjamin into something he could control. He had a vision for his son – one where Benjamin was a carbon copy of him. Strong. Cold. Ruthless. My husband’s world is one of steel, and his love is just as hard. My sweet boy never stood a chance.”

Your heart sank. “And Ben – he didn’t want that?”

“No,” Mrs. Brooks said, a slight bitterness creeping into her tone. “Benjamin didn’t want any of it. But he was young, and he couldn’t fight his father. So slowly, he started to change. He stopped asking questions. He stopped dreaming. And one by one, the things that made him unique faded away. I watched my son slip away from me, and there was nothing I could do about it.”

You wanted to reach out to comfort her, but you felt helpless. How could you fix this? Could you fix him?

“I’m so sorry,” you said softly. “I had no idea.”

Mrs. Brooks gave you a wistful smile. “It’s not your fault, dear. You’re not here to save him. You can’t save him, not from himself. But you might be able to remind him of who he was before the world changed him. I think that’s why I like you so much.”

Your heart tightened as you listened. You could see the sadness in Mrs. Brooks’ eyes, a depth of loss that you hadn’t expected.

Ben’s mother let out a sigh, soft and weary, as though she had been holding it in for too long. “You know, from the moment I met you, there was something about you. Something I never had the chance to share with Benjamin.” She paused, gathering her thoughts as if she hadn’t shared this kind of honesty in years. “I’ve always wanted a daughter for many reasons, you see? I dreamed of having someone who could see this world as I see it. A confidante. You remind me a lot of myself when I was younger. You have a fire in you – a light. And I don’t want my son to put it out.”

Your heart halted its beats abruptly. You were taken aback by her blunt honesty, shaking your buzzing head lightly, trying to make sense of her words. “What d’you mean?”

“You don’t know what your getting into, either. You’re not like them. You’re not meant for this kind of life. That’s why I want to warn you, dear,” she said, her gaze sharp.

Oh no, not another warning… How many was that now? Three? Four, if you counted Grace?

Great.

“Benjamin might love you now, but he’ll be just like his father in the end. Cold. Hard. Empty,” she said harshly, the weight of regret in every line of her expression. “The man you think he is, may not be the man he turns out to be. Benjamin isn’t the boy I once held in my arms anymore. He’s not the man you think he is. I see his father in him more every day. I can see it in the way he looks at the world, in the way he reacts to the people around him. I don’t want you to end up like me. You’ll be the one left behind. Trust me.”

You felt a knot in your throat, your heart pounding with an ominous sound like an ancient war drum. You didn’t know how to respond. Your thoughts spiraled in every direction.

You swallowed hard, tears pricking your eyes like salt in a wound. “I don’t know if I can walk away. I think I love him,” you confessed quietly, barely audible over the chatter of the tea room.

The words shocked you. You’d never said them out loud before, but they didn’t seem to rattle his mother at all.

Her eyes softened, her hand reaching over to clasp yours on the table in a sad understanding. “I know you do. But that’s the problem, dear. When you love someone like him, you’ll always be fighting a battle you can’t win.”

▶️ Chapter 7: Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My! – MAY 9

Ooof, looks like not even Ben's mother has much confidence in him... What did you think of all the warnings? And if Ben was already this upset now, then well, imagine what he feels like when it really happens. Choo-choo, all aboard the angst train! Get ready to meet the man of the hour next week 😉

(Fair warning: Chapters never really got any shorter. I don't know what to tell ya, but half of the next one is smut, so there's that 😂🤷‍♀️)

Coming Up:

“I remember you mentioned a girl from school staying here.” The patriarch of the steel empire carved into his roast with casual violence, sipping his wine like it was penance, a pair of almond-shaped, glacier blue eyes zeroing in on his son. “Didn’t think you meant still staying here.”

You managed a polite smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mr. Brooks.”

He gave a short nod that might’ve been a grunt, reaching for the wine glass before saying, “Likewise.”

Ben’s mother – composed in a deep jade green dress that complimented the glint in her eye – broke the tension with a dry, almost teasing, “She’s been keeping me company. And sane.”

You glanced at her in grateful surprise, but she didn’t look at you. Her gaze was squarely on her husband, almost daring him to challenge her.

Oh fuck. You had a feeling that dinner would derail soon enough. You still remembered how your own mother always looked when she wanted to pick a fight with your father. You could see that same desire in Mrs. Brooks tonight.

Richard’s eyes flicked to you as cutting as a scalpel. “Rosemary Hall, was it?”

You smiled, knowing your alibi by heart. “Yes, sir. We, uh, crossed paths with Ben’s group at Choate once or twice. We’ve stayed in touch.”

“Mmm.” He sounded unconvinced, like he already had a list of questions and was working through them in his mind. “And what is it you do, exactly?”

You gave an innocent shrug of your shoulders. “A little of everything. Read a lot. Try to keep busy.”

Mr. Brooks leaned back with a hum, wine glass in hand. “You read. Anything useful?”

Ben’s hand tensed slightly on the table. You felt it even without looking.

🚀 Read up to 4 chapters ahead on Patreon now

Tag List Pt. 1:

@alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@lori19 @lacilou @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444 @syrma-sensei

@perpetualabsurdity @yoobusgoobus @jessjad @dayhsdreaming @hunter-or-the-hunted

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@supernotnatural2005 @stoneyggirl2 @kr804573 @m0e0v0v @youroldfashioned

[frownyalfred]

Idk how much of these ur planning to explore outright in the fic since we haven’t really had dans pov at all so I’m gonna ask some questions I’ve been really wondering about and would love to hear ur thoughts on

1) is he the kind of alpha who wants pups pretty soon? Or is it like with lex, where it’s something he’d like but didn’t really consider it to be in the cards for him because of his past

2) does he have any particular insecurities that have been affecting the specific choices he’s been making when it comes to lex and this situation? I’d love to hear a bit more of the reasoning behind his personal goals here. I know he’s chill and and ready to handle anything he’s needed for by someone he cares about, but it’s so interesting that he became committed to caring about lex so quickly, and I think that says a lot about the kind of person he is in the idea of “needing to be needed” or needing to have some important task to focus on in order to be fulfilled.

3) is he a lifelong gothamite, or does he originate from metropolis or somewhere else?

4) did he have any expectations for who this mysterious pack he was helping lex to protect are? Was he thinking about a really young pup and that’s why he was so ready to help? Does he have any sort of internal “what the hell” when he realizes the “pup” is actually very clearly a grown adult, and of course he doesn’t really have the context or understanding yet of who Jason is or the ways he was “stunted” by his life.

5) does he like vigilantes and hero’s at all? Was his goon/Merc lifestyle simply because it was something he was good at, or did he have some other particular interest that got him into that field.

I don’t expect you to answer all of these I just had some questions I’d love to hear your thoughts on if you have time!

I think he wasn't against the idea but it didn't come up until now as a possibility. He's a bit of a wilder alpha so I think deep down in his instincts he really wanted an omega who could keep up with him to have pups with. Lex makes Dan keep up with him so that helps.

He's very deferential to the existing pack hierarchy and admires it. We see this several times with him - he respects Clark's boundaries as Pack Alpha, he doesn't go into territory he's not invited onto, etc. He respects that Lex belongs to the Pack before Dan has any claim on him. I think an insecurity for him will be accepting that he has a place in that hierarchy and didn't just barge his way in. He's a bit of a solo alpha but deep down I think he really likes the older fashioned Pack dynamics. He never imagined settling down with just a mate, a house, and 1-2 pups. He does best when he's helping, and in the context of multiple alphas even. He doesn't need to be the top alpha in any situation, and maybe even deep down being in a pack is a relief for him because he doesn't want to be the one in charge setting rules all the time. He's a bit more independent than that.

Lifetime Gothamite, but my personal hc after some asks on here is that he did a brief stint in the military or some service organization where he traveled for a bit

He really respects Alfred ("Mr. Pennyworth") and was always under the assumption that his client was wealthy and private and that that was none of his business. Lex told him eventually that the pup was an adult but Dan still got it, that's the pack pup, it's different. He might be presented but he's still the youngest and the most vulnerable, esp as an omega. I think by this point in TNW he's put together who his client is (Bruce Wayne's pack) and that Clark is Superman (kind of hard not to after that rescue) but not the Batman part (yet).

I think Dan did some questionable jobs but mostly stayed out of that world. I like the Merc/former henchman idea but not sure it fits the main TNW storyline. Heroes and villains aren't his business, but we do see his disgust for Joker and anyone who helps him hurt people. He's got a strong sense of justice when it comes to protecting the vulnerable, like omegas and pups.

[theangelstar]

This is me and analyzing the characters in a more wordy way, cause I'm bored:

Chase Hollow

First appeared in episode 1-A Beautiful Maiden

Episodes he appeared in: A Beautiful Maiden, A New Job, A Mysterious Key, An Honest Talk, A Leisurely Week, Cinderfella 1, 2 and 3, Silver, Your Greatest Wish, Hidden Toadstool Grove, Rules of Engagement 1 and 2, Flea Market 1, 2 and 3, Bronze, Toffee Break 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6, We Need to Talk About Buddy 1 and 2, In the Tower, Beach Boys 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6, Dreams by Day, Sick Day 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5, Dreams by Night, All that Glitters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6, Honor Among Thieves 1, 2, 3 and 4, The Book of Deacon, Requiem of Blood and Moonlight 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5, Friends and Family, Still Waters 1, 2, 3 and 4, All Good Things (Season Finale)

General rate: 8/10

General character analysis: I like Chase, not as much as other characters, but I still love him. He's funny and he's just a cutie patootie. Like I wanna be friends with this dude. There was never a time I was like, "Ew I hate this dude" Because who could hate this guy. He has all the good traits, and I feel like he's good for Buddy. I can't wait to see him in season 2. I feel like he is such a good character. And a good main character. He brings out the comedy in this webtoon. Punko did such a nice job

(I don't really have time to reread each ark so I'm just gonna skim thought it so bare with me here)

Chase in Cinderfella rating: 7/10

So this ark was early on. So there wasn't really good Chase parts. I loved the ark, but I felt the ark more for Buddy then for Chase. I guess what I'm trying to say or type lol, is at this early on I only had eyes on Buddy. I didn't really realize I liked Chase until after season 1 ended. I liked this ark but this was not Chase's slay ark.

Outfit rating: 5/10

So this is just his plain outfit, and why I rated it a 5/10 was because we always see it. So its nothing special. Its not that its a bad outfit, I love it, its just his default setting.

(I'm not really sure why this next ark is called this)

Chase in Rules of Engagement: 8/10

I loved this ark! It's my favorite early on ark. I loved Chase in it and the fact he had to dance with Buddy. Yes. JUST YES! Dance with your husband Chase....oh...I mean enemy.

Outfit rating: 9/10

I loved this outfit, it suited him. Dude I would wear that outfit. Omg! Like Silver did such a nice job, like wdym a key made that. A KEY MADE THAT! Like Chase is slay in any outfit, disagree with me and I'm coming to your house so we can fight (joke)

Chase in Flea Market: 4/10

So the reason I rated it a 4/10, not really because of Chase, but this ark was my least favorite. But its an important ark. And most important arks can get boring. I just was not feeling the ark. Lots of information tho.

Chase in Toffee Break: 8/10

Toffee Break is a goodie. It really is. Like the, "Oh, you gotta be kitten me." Was spot on. I love Chase and his jokes and idiocy. Also we see him getting flustered about Buddy for the first time. That pose was hot Chase don't blame yourself.

Outfit rating: 7/10

I thought I hated the outfit because of the colors. But I looked at his outfit and changed my rating higher, cause like Chase slays with those colors. That outfit was yes. Just yes.

(idk if this is an ark but its a group of episodes)

Chase in We Need to Talk About Buddy: 6/10

So this ark is about Buddy. But Chase does appear and its a ark about Buddy, so he didn't slay?

Outfit rating: 9/10

I loved that outfit though. Like Silver please make me outfits. Like girl is slaying with those.

Chase in Beach Boys: 10/10

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! BEACH BOY ARK!!! A GOODIE GOODIE!! LIKE A VACATION ON THE BEACH YES!! GETTING HIT WITH A SPEAR BY YOUR HUSBAND!!! no. BUT YES!!!!

Outfit rating: 7/10

Not really into his outfit in here. Just a swimsuit dats all.

Chase in Sick Day: 9/10

Sick Chase. Yes. I love how determined he is to help his cousin. Chase just go to sleep please. Let Buddy pet your hair.

Outfit rating: 8/10

Hear me out or don't.

Chase in All that Glitters: 10/10

*Breathes really hard* LET THEM MARRYYY!!! PLEalSEELSLELSLEWLSLWLSKLWKSLWQSLWLSZKLSKEslksollk3slakwlakowl,a

Ahem sorry about that anywho, great ark! Loved it, would read again (would read the whole webtoon again)

Outfit rating: 7/10

I just love Chase and his red jacket that's boyfriend sized.

Chase in Honor Among Thieves: 15/10

I'm sorry Chase but I love you in this ark. The amount of Buddy simping going on is so good. But not only that but the humor. I just loved it. It was so funny.

Outfit rating: 100/10

I WOULD FRICKING WEAR THAT!!! LIKE CHASE WEAR MORE PINK PLS!!!! AHHHHHHHH!! HE LOOKS SO GOOD!!!

Chase in Requiem of Blood and Moonlight: 9/10

I just love how he is simping over a guy that wants to kill him. The humor was great like not like Honor Among Thieves. It was great. Chef's kiss. I love how he comforts Buddy through his panic attack. Like Chase Buddy likes you.

Outfit rating: 5/10

Wasn't really feeling that outfit. Sorry Chase...or Silver or whoever...wait those ribbons are pretty cool... and those socks...idk

Chase in Still Waters: 7/10

I liked how he freaked out and his wording of things for example, "Buddy, the house is full of water! Well it's happening all over the floor! And I DIDN'T DO IT!" Was so funny. idk if that was supposed to be funny but it was.

Outfit rating: 20/10

LOVED HIS OUTFIT AAAAAAHAHAAHHAHHHHHAHAHAHAHA IT WAS SO GOOD!!! LIKE I SAID HE LOOKS SO GOOD IN PINK!!!

First quote (idk what the point of this is but I'm gonna do it, each quote is the first one in each episode he appears in):

"Onnnne sec..."

"Wuh-"

"Hmmmm..."

"Come on..."

"Ugh...this is taking FOREVER."

"Hey, I do just fine!"

"Okay Chase. You can do this. Totally. Not even a big deal."

"Mm hmm."

"It fixed the crack in the key..."

"YEAH, YEAH, I'M COMING!"

"It's fine. It's...it's just fine. I just...want that narratonin really fast."

"Okay Silver, I got a ton of new books."

"NO WAY!"

"Ugh...why are we selling preserves under the name 'Hollow Farm?' Our house hasn't been a farm since like 1978."

"DEACOOONN! GO HELP GRANDPA BRING THE STUFF IN FROM THE CAR!"

"Would you just calm down and listen?!"

"Can't believe your folks ask to see the receipts, dude."

"Ugh..."

"Ughhhh I'm so hungry my teeth are gonna turn around and BITE MY BRAIN."

"STUPID DORKIN...RRRGH...It's my whole story thing, but noooo, we have to do it HIS WAY. CAN'T JUST TRUST ME TO KNOW WHAT I'M DOING FOR ONCE! Where IS that stupid princess lady anyway? I'VE BEEN ALL OVER THIS IDIOT GARDEN! TWICE!"

"This is...kind all my fault, isn't it."

"Awwww noooo..."

"It's not my fault, man! That guy was supposed to catch it, that's how the story goes! Not my fault he didn't get the memo!"

"FASTER! FASTER! IT'S RIGHT BEHIND US!"

"All right, what're we doin' here, Chasey...looking for the princey guy. Just like last time, duh. Not hard, you already did this a few times...just dance with the big oaf, leave your shoe, piece of cake."

"GRANDPA!"

"...so that's when I threw the whole thing out the window-"

"You are SO not supposed to be here!"

"How is this not what you asked for?"

"Buddy!"

"Buddy...y-you..."

"Sigh..."

"Hey, Silver? You ok?"

"Ughh...I feel so gross."

"MMNNNFF..."

"For the last time, I'M FINE."

"UGH, FINALLY."

"Mmmmnn..."

"N-no way! NO WAY!!"

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP AND LOOK AT ME!"

"Deacon, the script says the heroine goes out riding! Do you want me to go by your stupid notes or NOT?"

"Un."

"OH MY GOD, HIS HAIR IS JUST PERFECT."

"PRUNELLA!"

"BRAND NEW! IT WAS BRAND NEW, DORKIN!"

"Oh, yeah, well...I've been helping Grandpa around the house...chores and stuff...looking for a summer job..."

"Woah..."

"Ughhh...."

"W-wait...there's a problem with the story?"

"Ngggh....ngh's doesh' ev'n have cat e'rssss..."

"Ugh. I'm here and all my chores are done and I'm ready and I PACKED A HEALTHY SNACK FOR PRUNELLA'S BOOK TODAY, YOU'RE FLIPPIN WELCOME."

"Yeah, up here. He said it was in the east wing."

"Yeah? And I did that, Dorkin. Minus the dress."

"So I was like, 'it wasn't that flat when I got here. You didn't follow the recipe.' And he just stormed out."

"There, there..."

"Forget it, Kid. He found your notebook in my pocket. He knows we know you."

"Really, Deacon? I think the weather is perfect."

"Guys, I'm trying to be sad here, can you not?"

"Ohhhh nooooo...no no no no nooo, this isn't happening..."

"Buddy come on, keep up!"

"BUDDY! W-WE CAN'T LEAVE THEM! DEACON AND PRUNELLA-"

What do you think of Chase?

Buddy is next post maybe tomorrow!

[chevelleneech]

Learning Ryan and Zinzi envisioned Stack as the caretaker of the twins, whereas Smoke was the protector, really furthers my headcanon that Stack is queer.

Obviously stereotypes aren’t the only things that matter, but he is naturally more open and expressive which could be read as generally more flamboyant. He was the one who liked style and flare, and he was a pimp (or pimped himself, depending on how that sentence is taken), but he was also the one more abused by their father.

Idk, I just keep thinking about how in IWTV, Louis’s mother knew he was gay long before he came out. He never even came out to her, but as we know, she thought it in her head, and that was decades before the setting of Sinners. Louis was grown in 1910 when she was thinking that, meaning, it’s not crazy to assume another parent one state over would be thinking the same thing at that same time.

No, these universes aren’t connected, but they’re set in the same era. They have the same vibe, and seemingly work along the same set of historical fantasy rules.

So yeah, I’m honestly really invested in the idea of Stack being bisexual, and Smoke being aware on some level if not completely aware, and doing his best to protect him. In life in general, but also because he always feared this “proclivity” would bring more harm to him than Stack would be able to handle on his own. Which in my headcanon, is partial fuel for why he let Stack go in the end.

One, he couldn’t kill him because that his “little” brother. Two, he maybe saw his immortality as a way for Stack to always be protected now. He could finally rest without fear that Stack would be in need of his help, no matter what.

[vanillahealer]

dear followers, this is NOT an agere post

it's a CRK post, so... if you dont want that, dont worry about it! /gen

beast yeast ep 9 spoilers!! also it has angst also this is a VERY LONG post. specifically, below the cut is 3,834 words and 21,377 characters.

cw/tw: cognitive and emotional dissonance, emotional abuse (from a leader and/or mother figure), brainwashing?, cult, the word "pill" and a large part of this revolves around a metaphorical/emotional illness/disease

So I have a lot of thoughts about this episode. Things that I haven't seen talked about yet so I wanted to bring it up for the more-into-crk-lore-than-I-am-people if they see this.

Most people have mentioned or are aware of the things going on with Pavlova Cookie, Sugarfly Cookie, and Eternal Sugar Cookie. I think most believe that Pavlova Cookie and Sugarfly Cookie are and have been being abused by Eternal Sugar Cookie in some way. Some may even think Eternal Sugar Cookie is a cult leader. I've heard that suggestion be tossed around. Some may view her as an abusive mother figure. And all of that, in this post, will be posited. This is the basis of this post.

First, I'd like to point out something that I noticed quite early on in this episode, after everyone got to the Garden. The Sugar Angels—the ones who help heal the other Cookies—didn't seem to ever hate their job. I'm in a line of thinking that Pavlova Cookie, Sugarfly Cookie, and the Sugar Angels are different types of Cookies. I have no idea if there's any evidence to this, but I just sort of get that vibe. Which could mean a bunch of things. We could be seeing a type of hierarchy. The Sugar Angels are the most common type of Cookie there. They could be the main population, for lack of a better term. Pavlova Cookie and Sugarfly Cookie seem to be more-directly-under Eternal Sugar Cookie's commands and orders. Which is... "weird," in a sense—At least, it seems weird. Raspberry Cookie's line of (paraphrased), "Wow, a Cookie from House Raspberry would never shirk off their duty to another Cookie!" comes to mind for Pavlova Cookie. If Pavlova Cookie is as close (in terms of order of command) to Eternal Sugar Cookie, why would he act childishly? Why does he not like his duty? Why isn't he more loyal, like Sugarfly Cookie?

I think it's complicated. I think he actually does like his job. His job is to give Happiness to all, and by proxy, lead everyone to the Garden. And with all that he talks about Love—and his fascination on Love—and it really seems genuine. He DOES want to help all Cookies. He does want to spread Love and Happiness to all. Who wouldn't? I mean, he's been told all his life that Love and Happiness is good. But something's interesting. "Pain and sorrow are not allowed in the Garden." This leads us to, again, multiple things... One, Pavlova Cookie likes pain and sorrow too. The first time we meet him, he talks about a love tragedy. And how that love tragedy is apparently deliciously interesting. It seems that a "normal" Cookie of the Garden (idk what else to call them,) would be crying and deeply hurt about a love tragedy. If Pavlova Cookie shared this news to everyone else, he would be the bringer of bad news. He would make everyone in that Garden sad. But then again, sadness is unacceptable. Pavlova Cookie, being (assumingly) one of—or the only—Cookie of the Garden who can go to the Outside World, is the only Cookie of the Garden who actually sees pain and sorrow. He resonates with it. He understands it—and he loves it because this is the only place where he is also understood. It's very unnatural—and rather impossible—for someone to be happy all the time. Even Eternal Sugar Cookie expresses more emotions than just happiness and bliss in her own Garden. But anything other than Happiness is bad. Any other emotion is bad. Is horrible. Is needed to be snuffed out like a candle's flame. In the Garden, you are not allowed to feel anything other than this one thing. But what causes Happiness? In the game, Eternal Sugar Cookie literally says that Happiness is going after what you want. And that doesn't sound bad at all.

...Except it is. And it is to her, as well. Why else would she get upset at Pavlova Cookie? When he wants Hollyberry and everyone else to stay, he is doing what he wants. In fact, he's doing his job. He fully believes that this is apart of his duty as a member of the Cookies of the Garden. He believes this is what Eternal Sugar Cookie wants of him. And he's right. He is to bring Happiness to all Cookies, which means they are to stay in Eternal Sugar Cookie's Garden. This is what she wants. However, despite doing exactly that, Pavlova Cookie gets scolded by Eternal Sugar Cookie. He is told that this is now wrong. Yet another thing is wrong——exactly what Eternal Sugar Cookie wants is wrong. Now, there was no reason for Eternal Sugar Cookie to get upset at him like how she did. I feel like diffusing the situation would've been nice, unless she did and I just don't remember. Anyway, he objectively did nothing wrong as per her orders. But she fixated her eyes on him, filled with cold, piercing daggers. She told him that she would re-educate him. She does not understand him, and he does not understand her, in a sense. ...Or we can say it's one or the other, simultaneously. She does understand him, and he doesn't. This can be the case because she knows he wants to help, but he doesn't know her plan. Simple as that. Now let's say she doesn't understand him, but he understands her. He knows what she wants. Obviously, for he's acting all of this out and he's doing what he thinks is best. She thinks he is "going against her" by doing this. He is in the way of her plans. Both of these are true. ...They both know that she is leading the Cookies straight to danger. They both know that "pain and sorrow is bad for all Cookies." (Pavlova Cookie can still not know about the plan here. Any Cookie going out of the Garden is bad enough——he knows that himself. Just an added layer onto this.) But somehow, "pain and sorrow" is being allowed by Eternal Sugar Cookie. ...The outsider cookies are free to feel pain. They are free to express how hurt they are. They are free to tell her, "I'm not feeling okay." They are allowed to leave the Garden, get hurt, and come back and be treated with kindness and healings and benevolence. Pavlova Cookie, Sugarfly Cookie, the Sugar Angels, and other Cookies/Desserts of the Garden do NOT have this freedom. To add onto this, the outsider Cookies—Hollyberry, Wildberry, and Raspberry Cookie—judge him too. They judge Pavlova Cookie. Hollyberry Cookie tells Eternal Sugar Cookie that he seems to only prioritize what he wants. (I hear Pavlova Cookie argue, "This is Happiness. This is Eternal Sugar Cookie's blessing! And in doing this, I am helping other Cookies get Happiness too!!") Wildberry Cookie and Raspberry Cookie mock him, telling him he shouldn't pawn off his duties to another. ("Stop it! No one understands! My mother figure tells me I'm wrong when I'm doing exactly what she wants! You outsider Cookies don't understand me either! The only one who understands is Sugarfly Cookie!" I hear Pavlova Cookie vent out his frustrations.) Sugarfly Cookie seems like a sibling to him. They are happy to take the jobs for Pavlova Cookie. They understand how emotionally hurt he is, for his job is to go to the Outside World and view how much pain and sadness is in it, only to be constantly denied his own pain and sadness. He is in the world where this should not happen. He is meeting the Cookies that can help him. He sees where they live, he knows the creatures of the land. He knows pain and sadness exist here, freely, without constraint. If there is one place where he could be understood, it is here.

And he isn't. And even so, he has a job to do. He is to spread Happiness to others. The Happiness that he doesn't fully know. The Happiness that confuses him. The one that he doesn't know if it's bad or good. He doesn't know why he feels sadness. Why he feels hurt. This is the place where pain and sadness does not exist. The Garden is where all Cookies are cared for. He should not feel this way. He, while feeling these emotions, is betraying Eternal Sugar Cookie herself. He can't admit it to others, let alone admit it to himself. But he still likes giving Happiness to outsider Cookies. Because who doesn't want to be happy? Happiness will be good. Forever. It is impossible for Happiness to be a bad thing. Happiness is good. Happiness is right. It is the way of the Garden, and it is the way of his mother figure. Its importance has been passed down and spread all across the Garden. He would be a fool to say Happiness is bad. Everyone would laugh. Maybe even Sugarfly Cookie. Sugarfly Cookie does not know the Outside World. It's debatable if they once knew it. But as of now, they do not. If they did, it's been far too long for it to mean anything to them anyway. Because they are Happy now. They are in the Garden of Delights, where nothing can hurt them. What Eternal Sugar Cookie does is not hurtful. It is not painful. Her actions cause no pain. Pavlova Cookie complains only because he visits the Outside World, where pain and sorrow reign and reside. He is affected by the outside influences. It is natural that he needs to come back to the Garden and rejuvenate himself.

("But he tells me he experiences Happiness there, too. He says pain and sorrow give him Happiness. He tells me that love tragedies are wonderful. That broken hearts cause his heart to fill," I hear Sugarfly Cookie try to reason with their confused thoughts. "He is sick. He needs help more than anyone. But he tells me—and I understand—why he cannot tell the Sugar Angels. Word will get to Mother. And Pavlova Cookie has tried so hard to keep all of this away from her for so long. However... I still don't know what it is that causes him this odd Happiness. I want to see it for myself. I want to understand him.") And they tell Pavlova Cookie they want to go with him one day. They trust him. They want to help him. They want to understand him. And so they go. They see it with their own eyes what grants Pavlova Cookie this odd Happiness. ...And this could go in so many different directions. The only thing we know for sure (at least this is assumed for this post,) is that Eternal Sugar Cookie found out. However... I think it to be like this. Sugarfly Cookie is terrified. Upon knowing the truth, Pavlova Cookie's situation is more dire than they expected. Crying creatures are granting him inner peace. Tears. Anger. Fits of frustration between lovers. Heartbreak. Violence. Emotions that are not allowed in the Garden is causing Pavlova Cookie "Happiness." This odd Happiness that he calls "Understanding." ("He tells me that he wants to do this. He wants to look like them. He wants to... cry. They are in pain. Their hearts are hurting. Pavlova Cookie... wants pain?" Sugarfly Cookie questions. "He is sick—He is very, very ill. I must tell Mother. I must tell her so she can heal him.") They tell Eternal Sugar Cookie about what transpired. Sugarfly Cookie is mortified of the Outside World. Eternal Sugar Cookie sees how hurt Sugarfly Cookie is—and promises to them that they will never again have to visit that place. They will be safe in the Garden. Forever. The new armor is wonderful. It's a bit heavy—Sugarfly Cookie can't exactly fly correctly, or fly at all. At most, they can hover, but that is alright. Being closer to the Garden is better. Having direct contact with the sweet clouds will surely help. No wonder it takes so long for Pavlova Cookie to heal. He can fly. But Mother did not give him new armor. In fact, she did not change anything about him at all, it seems. At best, she talked to him, and that was all. She told everyone she taught him a new lesson.

("But still, Pavlova Cookie is hurt. He still goes to the Outside World. But he has to. It is his job.... I feel bad for him. He is the only one who can go into the Outside World. He is the only one who can escort the outside Cookies to the Garden. He must witness the pain and sorrow from that world, and must go directly to Mother so she can help him. The Other World is cruel. But it must be this way. Pavlova Cookie is suffering. He mistook his Happiness. He wanted to cry not because he felt understood. He wants to cry because he is a Cookie of the Garden. And we are not to look upon or feel pain. And yet he does. He is the only one who does... While thinking about Pavlova Cookie, something happens to my heart. Something blooms within it. It is not Mother's Happiness. It feels like it droops lower than my wings with this new armor. This.... This is from the Outside World. This... is the disease that Pavlova Cookie is ill with. I contracted it, too, when I went to that sickly place. It... hurts. But in due time, because I am forever in the Garden, I will heal. Pavlova Cookie still has jobs to do. I will happily do anything he asks me to—I must help alleviate his pain. ...Oh, Mother has the same look upon her face when she taught him the new lesson. Pavlova Cookie will get too close to the Outside World—That is why he does not want to lead the outside Cookies back to their world. He does not want to get more sick. I understand. I will escort them for him while Mother reeducates him.")

...

"Pavlova Cookie? Come closer to me," says Eternal Sugar Cookie. "...Yes? You called for me?" responds Pavlova Cookie... ...with fear in his voice. He knows that he was wrong. Pain and sadness can be felt by Outsider Cookies. Of course they can. It originates from their world, of course. ("I hope 'Mother' will heal me this time. I hope it's not just telling me things I already know. That her plans are absolute, that her plans are very planned out. That she knows what she is doing. All I want is for 'Mother' to heal me like Sugarfly Cookie believes. But not like the sculptures... And don't restrict my flight.... And don't ban me from ever visiting the Outside World... No. No, that is impossible. I am useful. I am the only one who has this job. I am useful. I must be kept in this job. I must be doing well. Mother will pardon one mistake. She will keep me in this role. She will. She has to. It is..... healing me. It makes my heart full. Surely, she knows that. She understands me. ...

I keep thinking about Sugarfly Cookie and I's exchange before those outsider Cookies left. I asked if they remembered the pain that cannot be healed... They did, they do remember it. Because we both have it. We both have the disease that came from the Outside World. But... that's what Mother says. To me, I think it's not a disease at all. It helps... It... helps. And no one understands. No one but Sugarfly Cookie, and even they are on the fence about it...") There's a crazy amount of dissonance here. Of ambivalence. I hope you guys are getting what I'm putting down. It's sort of hard to explain to be honest. ...I want to talk about this.

[Image ID: A screenshot of Pavlova Cookie's dialogue from Cookie Run Kingdom. There are two sides of the image, left and right. Left side says the word "Victory." Right side says three quotes. In order, the first is: "Love always wins!" The second is: "Ahh, the power of love!" and the final one is "With love, Pavlova Cookie!" End image ID.]

I want to talk about that last one. "With love, Pavlova Cookie!" Who says their own name? Why would you do that? It's because he's quoting someone else. "With love, Pavlova Cookie!..." said Eternal Sugar Cookie, during one of the "reeducating sessions." It's like she's telling him, reinforcing into him that he is not doing any evil. He is not doing anything bad. Spreading Happiness can NOT be bad. Ever. Shooting arrows at others is not bad. Killing monsters is not bad. Winning, even if the "stubborn Cookies" resisted, is not bad. You won. You achieved victory. And you did it with love. I see a lot of posts talking about the statues/sculptures. I want to add to this.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Name of decor: Tender Dream Raspberry Jam. Visual Description: A statue of a Sugar Angel ontop of a raspberry jam jar. Has a small amount of jam on its right wing and head. In-game Description: "May your slumbers be happy in the Garden of Delights! Eternal Sugar Cookie herself has crafted these intricate jars of jam to keep Cookie protected from pain and suffering for all eternity. It is said that this jam tastes like the warmest memory of your life. Those splatters of jam on the statue…? Don't you worry, sweetest!" End image ID.]

I want to focus on the end part. The splatters of jam. So... this is just pure confirmation that these transformations are painful. They bleed. They are in pain when these happen. Have another one.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Name of Decor: Sweet Slumber Blueberry Jam. Visual Description: A statue of a Sugar Angel on-top of a jar of blueberry jam. A blue tear comes from its right eye. In-game Description: May your slumbers be happy in the Garden of Delights! Eternal Sugar Cookie herself has crafted these intricate jars of jam to keep Cookies protected from sorrow and suffering for all eternity. it is said that this jam tastes like the fondest memory of your life. Why does the statue look like it's crying…? Those are happy tears, sweetest!" End image ID. ]

The fact that there's two of them—different ones—with either jam or tears... insinuates that there's different types of "petrification"? One that gives physical pain and another that is emotional? That's just a theory though.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Decor Name: Sugar Peacock. Visual Description: A purple peacock with seven tails. The peacock's eyes are closed, but eyes are on the ends of the tails. One eye per tail. In-game Description: These majestic birds with feathers of sleek, shiny candy walk gracefully around the Garden of Delights. With their eyes constantly closed, it may seem as though they are dreaming—but make no mistake: their real eyes are on the tips of their tail plumes. Day after day, these eyes witness happy faces. But… what happens if a face is not happy?" End image ID.]

"What happens if a face is not happy?" Another case of "any emotion except for Happiness is bad" in this place. And apparently, peacocks symbolize beauty, divinity, power, confidence... and "the beautiful things of life." Wow.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Decor Name: Mashmallow Candy Pillars (Top). Visual Description: Two pink pillars hold up a small part of a pale white ceiling. The pink part looks soft. In-game Description: A soft marshmallow wraps around a sturdy candy pillar making it completely harmless in the event of a sudden collision. The sensation of its plushy embrace upon impact has some Cookies dreaming of turning this pill-ar into the pill-ow of their dreams… but will they ever succeed?" End image ID.]

Ohhh man. The "pill" part of those words are getting singled out. This inspired the whole "sickness/illness/disease" things above. Like, of course this society would have parallels to sicknesses. They literally heal others... but I didn't expect this in this description.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Name of Decor: Winged Tree. Visual Description: A tree with purple angel wings as its leaves. In-game Description: "No one is ever busy in the Garden of Delights! Why soar in the sky when you can slumber in the shade of this tree? Legend has it that is how this tree gained its wings—the previous owner no longer needed them." End image ID.]

"The previous owner no longer needed them..." ...What does this mean. What does this mean??? Does Eternal Sugar Cookie just straight up... you know...? I mean, I guess it makes sense. You can hurt your people as much as you want because they are in the realm of healing and stuff. It won't matter how much pain you experience because you can just get all of that wiped away.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Decor Name: Swimming Tooth Rock. Visual Description: A tooth that can…swim… Apparently these are creatures in this world. In-game Description: This Toothling has rotted from drinking too much grape juice flowing through the Garden of Delights. However, it still will not stop, despite the pain… Perhaps, it lives as a testament to the phrase, "All is good in moderation." End image ID.]

...So are we just going to say that everyone in the Garden is raised to be masochistic...? The phrase "All is good in moderation" and like there's no moderation? They genuinely think it's good for them? Is this what this means?

But, yeah, anyway. I think this is crazy. Not to mention the music. I find it absolutely fascinating that the boss battle theme is a remix of the like, main theme of the place, I think. I know that makes sense, but... something about the boss battle theme just seems so... conflicted. The good that you know suddenly becomes bad. Everything you've ever lived for twists itself into disparagement by Eternal Sugar Cookie in-front of your eyes. It feels like the truth is coming out, yet you have a vague idea of said truth... It feels like you don't know which one to believe in.

But anyway. Sorry for this whole very extremely long post. Maybe I'll come back to this again and/or start posting my other ideas about stuff. I didn't even talk about Hollyberry or Eternal Sugar's relationship. My thoughts on it are probably.... different than others. I'll just say I like Eternal Sugar more than Hollyberry. ...Which..... is interesting, given that I don't exactly *like* like Eternal Sugar. Anyone else think Pavlova Cookie and Sugarfly Cookie see each other as siblings btw? Anyway. I'll stop rambling. This has gotten long enough.

[just-animaxiz]

Today marks the anniversary for "Escape From Scrap City!"

And I'll tell you why this episode means so much to me:

Summary: During an airship fight, Ninja and McFist accidentally crash-landed in Scrap City, a junkyard created by McFist to store his old robots after they failed destroying the Ninja.

I'll focus on the "A" Plot of this episode more, because it has so much underlying tones and implications.

It is shown in this video that Scrap City is created by McFist to "Protect Norrisville" when he is the one who created them (Viceroy created them but you know McFist.) He trapped them inside a circular wall that is made to be indestructible, and no one will be able to get in or out.

It is noted that all of the robots in Scrap City are ALIVE and CONSCIOUS, but they have nothing but rust and broken pieces. They're not DEAD, but living to SUFFER.

After McFist and the Ninja crash-landed, they go their separate ways to find an escape route. Ninja tried to ask the Nomicon for help, but he didn't find anything useful other than an lesson.

When Randy woke up, he meets a robot titled "Q.T Bot" (Idk what Q.T. actually means other than Randy thinks it means "Cutie"). The bot used their bit eyes and "beep boop" noises to lower the Ninja's walls, which easily works.

Then the robot leads Randy to a place where he thought would be the way out, but then it is revealed to be an arena.

He saw McFist in a throne, who claimed that "Spiky" (The Red Punk Bot Which I dubbed him Spike) picked him up and told McFist the robots are still loyal to him.

It is also revealed Dale's a prick betrayer.

However, just as McFist mocks Ninja for his idiocy, falling for a trap -

- Spike revealed McFist fell for it too and threw him down with the Ninja.

Spike revealed that McFist and Ninja are guilty for the crimes of Robo-manity, leading to them to fight each other after they tried to blame the other for the cause.

The robots cheered, hooted, and roared as the two fight, and when Ninja takes the upper hand, Spike said this:

"That's right - FINISH HIM!"

At this part, I learned more of Scrap City's characterization: They're not only going after McFist and the Ninja, but they wanted to KILL McFist.

We never see McFist's side, but knowing what he said about Spike and the betrayal, it shows how deeply hated he is to the Robots.

For the Ninja, it's easy. Use the robot with the bit cute eyes to do the work.

For McFist - He's tricked by ego. Spike and the Robots made SURE McFist is seen as superior, vowing submission to him and letting him take the throne -

- WHICH ACTUALLY TURNS OUT TO BE SPIKE'S.

Spike's the one who found McFist and gave his throne as a lure to pull McFist in.

He WANTED McFist to feel the last piece of glory before he threw him out.

It shows his cunning, observant and manipulative side. How much he WANTS Mcfist DEAD by pretending to be on HIS side before tossing him down. How that quote holds so much weight because he is so EXCITED to see the Hero destroying the one thing that created them and left them to ROT.

Back to the story.

The Ninja realized this wouldn't help their situation and recalled his lesson, saying he's not killing McFist and teamed up with him.

Spike didn't like that so he has another robot to do the job.

A Destruco Bot made SPECIFICALLY in Scrap City.

SUMMONED by Spike HIMSELF.

And the robot doesn't look like it's made with new materials. Look at its teeth, the design, the colors -

It's made out of the robots themselves.

It shows another implication of Scrap City, that they're not in a place of repairs. All of their junk are limited and no one's coming to repair them from damage. Not even McFist or Viceroy.

Because they left them in Scrap City.

It is also evident when the Destruco-Bot ONLY goes after McFist, aiming to kill him.

It didn't care or see the Ninja. It just goes after McFist.

After the Ninja destroyed the bot and opened an escape, Spike ordered all bots to chase after the two.

See this image?

Spike takes the lead, but he's faster than the others. Even when the Ninja blocked their path, the Punk Bot leader still keep on going.

Suddenly, Mort and Howard came to rescue them on a Pterodactyl-Van ride. McFist and the Ninja entered, but when they're about to fly away, Spike jumped onto the door.

"You're not living Scrap City THAT EASY!"

Spike didn't want them to leave alive, but it has more to it.

He didn't want them to leave easy.

That place is the only area where no one is able to go in or out, but imagine the people who made you suffer escaping the place with an easy route.

Doesn't it make you mad?

The bots in Scrap City are villains of the story, but they're tragic beings made to ROT everyday and never leave. While the people who made them and destroyed them to suffer are able to get out scot-free.

That's why the episode holds so much for me, having so much potential in it. Scrap City is more than a place of broken robots, but robots who didn't have anything. Their freedom is limited, purpose vanished, and lives walking in loneliness and anguish.

And the MOMENT they see the two reasons that got them into the place there - They had enough.

They wanted revenge.

They wanted to avenge Robo-manity.

They wanted the pain to stop.

[rhonissancee]

STARNOTES SPIDERMAN AU! (or what I like to call....starwebs—like....constellations)

Some HCS (because I can't take my writing seriously atm + I think koue requested this when I was taking a break + this has been in my drafts for quite sometime)

FIRST MEETING: I'd like to think that they were childhood friends (as in their parents are best friends and they'd spend the day flying kites or finding bugs by the creek etc.) before Dan Heng got a scholarship to study abroad, and being ever supportive ofc Cee pushed him to take it (they drifted apart shortly after but they both still have a place in each other's heart)

Oh and some random thing I thought of, here in the Philippines we have these things where we catch spiders and make them fight each other (I'm so sorry to all the spiders in the world. Idk if it's just my family that does that) but it's a big thing here especially if you're like young (I remember my dad and my uncle doing it and watching hehe) + anyways that. Dancee would do that but I don't think either of them would want harm to come to the spiders so it's more like + cee would catch a spider and Dan Heng would tell them it's type, its name, what it eats etc. (he's a huge spider nerd)

They're very province x city actually. When Dan Heng chose to accept the scholarship his family saw it as an opportunity to move as well (they're still in close contact with cee's family and would have fiesta together!) so Dan Heng lived a provincial childhood but ultimately changed into a quiet reserved city boy, cee stayed the same chaotic burst of energy.

How did Dan Heng get the spiderman powers? I'd say the typical way that all the spidermans got it hehe, 'i was bitten by a radioactive spider and now I save the city ig' + but some backstory on it is, during his time abroad (I'd say like senior high age so around 17?) + while he was on a field trip exploring a rural area of some place he felt a wave of nostalgia seeing the tranquility of the fields and the forest (because it reminded him of his childhood and his best friend) soooo he kinda slipped away from the group for a bit and went to hunt spiders (like they used to when they were kids!) + except out of the two, it really was Cee who had a knack for catching them without triggering or alarming them sooo ultimately our poor nerd got bit by a spider that he's never seen before (bam! Spiderman the next day)

So how did they end up roommates? Pure. Coincidence. Because why the heck not. Dan Heng's family wanted him to move back to the PH after his SHS because they missed up, so he did lol! He's now a scholar in a very prestigious school here and that school just so happens to be the one that Cee got into as well. Cee didn't attend the opening ceremony for freshmen since they wanted to spend as much time with their family before moving away so when they did arrive at the flat to find it already lived in they were pleasantly surprised to see familiar ebony curls and watercolor eyes hunched over a small succulent by the windowsill (miwa hi ily btw)

First thing they said to each other? "You got glasses." And yes cee was the one to say that because GLASSES DAN HENG IN THIS AU. CHEER EVERYONE CHEER. IDC. HE HAS SHIT VISION, HES WEARING THEM CONSTANTLY.

Dan Heng did 'save' the city he lived in during his time abroad + but I like to think that it was in a more....casual way, like if he witnessed something on the street he'd step in type shi. But he wouldn't be awake at 1am fighting crime because no. He's 17 let him sleep 😭

BUT IN COLLEGE IT CHANGES. he takes it more seriously because not only is that prestigious school he's in so politically inclined and all about justice and fairness (To my filipino moots idk if you can figure out what type of school I'm hinting at ahakdhsjw) but he witnessed one of the people he cared about get hurt because of bad people so he kinda made a vow to always help out now. So imagine being a scholar + journalist and spiderman all at the same time? (Bro has some crazy time management)

Last yap! Because I feel like I've been talking too much and this is still on the basics of everything TT?courses? I'm not really sure where I want the two to end up- I'd imagine cee would either be in a biochemistry or fine arts (the contrast between the two help) and Dan Heng would be in like something history related? I'm still figuring it out pls don't flame me

Their love story? Oh god think childhood best friends to strangers to roommates to friends to lovers type shi- with a mix of miscommunication trope and yearning +pining in the mix. Gonna hate to say it but miraculous ladybug vibes, cee has no idea about Dan Heng being spiderman, and falls for Dan Hengs spiderman form instead of his regular self 😭 (who has to witness his bestfriend falling for him- but not HIM. you get what I mean TT?) + don't worry though cuz Cee doesn't stay completely oblivious and the upside down iconic spiderman kiss will eventually happen teehee.

Small side note on aesthetics ! I've been disappointed in myself because I don't think I have been portraying Cee's whimsicalness accurately? So I'll try to draw them in different outfits every time I post about starnotes hehe! Like they're so whimsy and warm and hungry caterpillar coded and I hope that everyone saw them as such TT.