#no but really i'm SO happy for you that you get to stay on your high horse and keep your moral purity as you watch the world burn

[cherrygirlfriend]

touchy subject II pairing: reader x exfiancé!rafe synopsis: seeing your ex-fiancé after four years. warnings: heavy angst. some fluff. miscarriage/stillbirth. vehicular accident. wc: 2k part 2 of touchy subject. part 3 / the final part coming soon. click here for part 1

you could feel your heartbeat in your throat, raw with unshed tears, the vision of your ex-fiancé with another woman blurred by nothing but the tears brimming at the edges of your vision, so different from the ones that ran down your cheeks the day you'd said yes to him.

"of course i'll marry you." you pulled rafe to stand up, your arms around him before you could even think about what you were doing, rafe letting out a sigh of relief. "wait, wait, i gotta ask you something." you rushed out, pulling away from the hug, his hands still staying on your waist.

"what is it?"

"is this just because i'm pregnant?" you ask, rafe's brows furrowing in confusion, yet you left him no time to respond, "it's just- i want to marry you, but i don't want you to feel like you have to ask me just because i'm pregnant, and if you want to wait until the baby's-"

you could feel how tired rafe was getting of your rant by the intensity of his lips on yours, using it to interrupt you, his fingers sliding under your jaw to help hold it up to meet his; and just like always, he didn't need to say one word for you to understand what he was communicating to you.

the moment his eyes found yours, it felt as if all the air was punched out of your lungs, like the entire planet just stopped spinning. it didn't matter that the jewelry store's display was separating you; it felt like the first time he looked into your eyes and told you he loved you.

you wanted to run, to make sure you wouldn't have to face him, to have to hear what his voice sounded when you'd already managed to forget how it was to hear it in person, but it was like your feet had rooted to the ground within the few seconds that he spotted you.

and you begged to whatever entity that once you saw him approach the exit to the jewelry store, the other woman long forgotten, that your fight-or-flight instinct would kick in, but luck was never really on your side, because there he stood, his face the same as the last time you saw him, with a few lines added here and there, and a part of you couldn't help but ache at the thought of having missed the moment they appeared.

you looked up at him, into the same eyes you'd once imagined your daughter would have, the thought making the bout of nausea in your throat even worse. a part of you wanted to congratulate him, to tell you that you were happy for him, but it felt like the words were choking you, like they were burning in your throat. but the choice to even say something was taken from you, when you heard the bell above the door to the jewelry store let out a cheery ring.

"rafe…?" the red-haired woman called out, her brows furrowed in question, and the moment your ex turned around to face her, you took the opportunity to turn the other way, begging that your feet would take you away before you threw up on the spot.

"i saw him yesterday."

"it was the first time you saw him in person since you left, correct?"

"yes. i sometimes checked up on his social media, but seeing him like this... so close to me i could touch him... it was pretty jarring. it felt like no time had passed, but also like i hadn't seen him in decades."

"and how did he look?"

"handsome." you chuckled softly, your hand going to fiddle with the locket around your neck, sliding it up and down the golden chain, avoiding looking at the zoom meeting displayed on the laptop screen. "he looked just like he looked with me. he looked happy."

"happy anniversary, rafe." you smiled softly as you pushed the gift box at him, your fiancé letting out a small tut.

"you know you didn't have to get me anything, right? you're enough for me already. both of you are."

"yeah, yeah, stop being all cheesy and chivalrous and open it already." you urged, watching as he lifted the lid of the gift box, his eyes widening as he looked down at the present, but before he could say anything, you stopped him, "look at the back of it!"

rafe rolled his eyes, picking up the steel watch from the box, and you could see his gaze soften the moment his eyes spotted the engraving on the back of the watch, the edges of his lips almost automatically twisting up at the words 'evelyn cameron'.

"is it bad that it makes me feel bitter?" you asked, chewing at the inside of your cheek, "that it's been four years, and i haven't been able to move on, but he has? that he's managed to be happy, but i haven't? that i don't know if i ever will?"

"the loss of a child..."

you couldn't help but tune out the words of your therapist like they were nothing but background noise, not knowing if it would be worse if she tried justifying your anger or if she tried to get you to understand why rafe had managed to move on, your eyes instead focusing on the heart-shaped locket you'd opened, the faces of the couple staring right at you.

"rafe, where are we?" you laughed softly, your feet hurting from the heels you were starting to regret wearing, the blonde having parked his car in front of a random house.

"you didn't think i wouldn't get you an anniversary present, did you?" when you didn't immediately answer, he pressed his hand to his chest in mock offense, shaking his head, "come on. lemme show you."

the two of you got out of the car, your heels clacking against the stone pathway leading to the house, rafe's muscular arm keeping you close to him, helping you walk.

when you got to the door, he let go of you, and you watched as he took out a set of keys without saying anything, twisting them in the lock and pushing open the door, looking to you enthusiastically, extending his hand to you.

the moment you stepped over the threshold, you were enveloped by warmth, rafe flicking on the light next to the entryway before turning to you as your eyes got used to the light, sliding his hands onto your waist, pulling you as close to him as the growing child allowed.

you looked into his eyes, yours filled with confusion while his were filled with nothing but sincerity, his thumb stroking your waist. "rafe, what's this?"

"it's our home." he said, bringing his hand to your bump, "i know it's not much, but it's got enough room for our family."

"rafe, this is-"

"this is my anniversary present for you. i won't take 'no' for an answer." he brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, tugging it behind your ear, "i want us to build our own home. our own life."

you kicked the radiator in frustration; it seemed like no matter what, the place wouldn't warm up. you'd called a maintenance guy, but they told you that it'd take at least a week for them to get someone there, and in the middle of winter, your only option was to light the fireplace in the middle of the living room while you waited for your mom to arrive with a portable radiator she told you she'd borrow you.

you sat in front of the blazing fire, your fingers fiddling with the frayed edges of the worn-out ultrasound picture you'd looked at a million times, your voice coming out weak from the sobs you were holding in your throat.

"hi, evie." you said softly, looking to the small urn next to you, engraved with the name of your daughter as well as today's date, only five years before. "happy... happy birthday."

"hi, baby." rafe's voice called out from the speakerphone of your car, the windshield wipers wiping away some of the rain falling down on you as you drove through the dark streets lit only by the yellow streetlights above, "are you almost home?"

"i am." you chuckled softly, "seeing my mom was so nice, even though she kept being all cheesy about how big i'd gotten. i swear, she almost cried."

"come on, she's gonna meet her grandkid in a month, of course she's gonna be all cheesy. if my dad had a paternal bone in his body, i'm sure he'd be ecstatic."

"yeah, well, you're not the one whose stomach is constantly getting pawed by people." you let out a snort, looking out into the road, "listen, i'm gonna drop by the store cause little evie's craving chocolate, do we need anything?"

"nah, just need you two home as soon as possible."

"aye aye, captain. see you soon, baby." you laughed, hearing the noise that signaled that the call had been ended, eager to get home and off your feet.

but before you could even realize what was happening, you were faced with a second pair of headlights that was approaching you, another car lit up by your own yellow headlights. and you swerved.

maybe it's a part of the so-called mother's instinct to blame ourselves when something happens to our child. no matter how many people told you that it wasn't your fault, that there was nothing you could've done, every bone, every cell in your body couldn't help but beat yourself up over what happened.

rafe ran down the hospital hallway, the smell of disinfectant mixed with the feeling of his heartbeat in his ears making him feel nauseous, the man sure that it was beating 200/bpm, but finally, when he reached the hospital room the reception had guided him to, a sense of relief took over him.

a nurse walked out of the room, startled by the man, her eyes widening at the obvious sense of urgency he was displaying, "can i help you?" she asked.

"no, no, i'm just here to see my fiancé." rafe said, his hand going for the door, only to be blocked by the nurse.

"i'm sorry, but the patient has told us that she doesn't want any visitors."

"what?" rafe let out a dry, humorless laugh, his brows furrowed, "you have to let me see her, that's my fiancé. that's- that's the mother of my child."

"i'm sorry, but the patient-"

"hey!" rafe pounded the palm of his hand on the door, the hospital bed visible from the rectangle of glass on the door, the man able to see your mother hunched over your bed, holding you. "let me-"

"sir, if you don't calm down, i'm going to have to call the guards and they'll remove you from the premises."

"that's my fiancé!" rafe shouted as the nurse pushed him further from the door, "i have to go see her! you have to let me see her! just tell her that i'm here, she'll want-"

the door to your hospital room swung open, rafe meeting the crestfallen eyes of your mother, her lips pulled into a straight line. "rafe, she doesn't want to see you."

when you heard the doorbell ring, you wiped away the tears that had ran down your cheeks; you didn't want to make it obvious to your mother that you'd spent the last fifteen minutes crying, and even if she could tell by the redness of your eyes, you knew she wouldn't mention it.

you pushed yourself off the ground, placing the small urn and the ultrasound picture on top of the fireplace as you straightened out your sweater, your feet cold against the hardwood floor as you walked to the front door.

but when you pulled it open expecting to see your mother, it felt like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs, like your heartbeat shot through the roof just from the sight of his downcast eyes.

"rafe."

[peppermintquartz]

Buck volunteers for the Thanksgiving shift. When Maddie asks, he apologizes, saying, "I don't really feel festive right now. But keep some leftovers for me?"

On the day, firehouses around the country all have similar calls to deal with: kitchen grease fires from frying turkeys, sprains in backyard games of football, people injuring one another because "did you hear what she said about our Emma/Francis/Kailey?". Buck is kept too busy to think, and it's nice having the time to catch up with Ravi, who's thinking of going to school to study law.

Their brothers and sisters in uniform also drop off dishes at the station, so between calls, they get pretty good food. Captain Graham gives them an hour offline after four consecutive calls. Buck collapses into a chair and serves himself pasta salad and a delicious honey baked ham, while his dinner rolls warm up in the oven.

He's scrolling through his phone, diligently avoiding the messaging apps, when a message preview pops up.

Tommy.

Buck almost drops his fork. He scrambles away from the dinner table, even though no one on C shift will try to take his phone from him, and finds a spot in the stairwell to read it.

Tommy: hope you have a good & safe Thanksgiving

As he's reading, another bubble appears and Buck's heart skips several beats, but this time it doesn't disappear. A second message arrives, followed by a third.

Tommy: don't know why I texted that

Tommy: guess I just wanted to say something to you

Tommy: you don't have to reply

Tommy: anyway. Happy holidays

Buck feels a slight loosening of the vice around his heart that has been there since that night. With a smile on his face, he types, deletes, types again.

Buck: happy Thanksgiving to you too

Buck: how many kitchen grease fires you got this year? We had 3

Tommy: you're working today?

Tommy: 4, but one of it was in the backyard

They're having a conversation. They're having an actual casual conversation, as easy as they used to on calmer shifts. Buck wants to cry. But he has to answer Tommy's question or have this conversation end too soon. Thinking about his options, he decides that he has nothing to lose anyway.

Buck: I didn't wanna sit around and smile and pretend I'm thankful for everything

Buck: it's better to keep busy

Tommy: I know that feeling

Tommy: I'm sorry

Buck: I'm sorry too

Buck: I wish we could've celebrated together

Buck: I would've said that I'm thankful for you

Tommy: I would have said that too

Tommy: I'm still thankful for you jsyk. I'll always be grateful to have got to know you

Does Tommy think he can't stay in Buck's life just because they broke up?

Buck: I don't think you know me well enough

Tommy: sorry

Buck wishes he'd run after Tommy that night, or done something since to show that he wants Tommy. Well, here's your chance, his brain reminds him. Do something.

He takes a deep breath. Then he types.

Buck: I want to meet. If I come over after Thanksgiving shift, will you please be home?

Tommy: is that a good idea

Buck: idk. But I can't stop thinking about you, and I miss you, and I wanna know what I did wrong. I wanna meet.

Tommy: I miss you too. You didn't do anything wrong, I just didn't want to... Idk. I didn't want to get my hopes up too much.

Buck: we need to talk in person. Texting is not good enough.

It isn't. He needs to see Tommy again. Tommy with his storm blue eyes and tender smile and broad shoulders and soft clothes. Tommy whose crinkly smile drives Buck a little (a lot) insane. Tommy whose lips he now knows the shape of by touch alone, whose body he has mapped out in detail, who knows how it feels to be inside Buck in the most intimate of ways.

He waits for a response. Hopes there will be one. It comes several minutes after, like Tommy had to really think about it.

Tommy: maybe not immediately after Thanksgiving shift

Tommy: are you off on Monday

The relief that crashes into Buck feels almost as overwhelming as the tsunami he was caught in years ago.

Buck: yes

Buck: your place this time

Buck: I'll bring cake

Tommy: you don't have to bribe me to open the door

Buck: no I just baked too much stuff is all. I'll explain when we meet

Buck: I'm really thankful you texted

Tommy: I'm thankful you replied

Tommy: have a good rest of the shift, Evan

It's Evan again. Buck can't hide his smile at all. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he goes back to dinner. Monday can't be here fast enough.

[1d1195]

The Lottery I

~3.7k words

From me: I thought I would close out 2024 with a mini-series. I'm hoping for shorter parts but I should be able to post on a regular basis (Mondays). You should see MANY similarities to my favorite show. I have been planning this one for over a year. I really hope you enjoy 💕

Warnings: angst (?) fluff

Summary: Small towns have the biggest romances and the best view of the moon.

“I don’t know how you ended up there,” Bailey shook her head.

“Bails,” she laughed. “I Googled it. It’s cute.”

The little town was adorably cute. The kind of place where the Christmas-hating CEO female lead in the movie would fall head over heels for the place in a month because of the small-town charm. It was about thirty minutes outside the city but with traffic it could take up to an hour. It was quaint. The exact kind of place she could envision her little dream.

“Your house is good?” Bailey asked. She nodded, flipping the camera to show her the little place she found to live in. Two stories. But the second floor was small. A bedroom, a bathroom, and a small room for storage. Maybe in the right light it could be a small office, but it would be better holding all her books. The bottom floor was open. Living room, dining area, and a kitchen. Down the hall was another bathroom and her bedroom. Right now, it was filled with boxes and no clear markers for any of the rooms. Her furniture was misplaced—the table in the living room, the TV on top of it, the couch was near the kitchen, and the lamps were atop the counters in the kitchen.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was home.

Moving in was second to her priorities. So the boxes would stay, her clothes haphazardly falling out of boxes, the iron on top of the island in the kitchen to get the wrinkles out of her blouses. “Neighbors are good?”

“I’ve only met Edith and David. They’re about sixty-five years old and hilarious. Edith is insistent on having tea by the end of the week and David wants to set me up with his grandson.”

“I can’t imagine you outside the city,” Bailey sounded wistful.

“It’ll be good for me to be away from all the big lights. I missed the stars... and the moon,” her voice was filled with fondness. Like the moon was her old friend she hadn’t seen in a while.

“We could see the moon in the city,” Bailey reminded her.

It wasn’t just the moon, it was the stars, and silence that the city never allowed. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

“You know babe...” Bailey trailed off. “You look... happy.”

She was. Really happy. The kind of happiness that couldn’t be faked because she was supposed to be happy. The kind of happiness that would make anyone jealous. And why shouldn’t she be happy? She was young, basically fresh out of college, ready to start her own business, and do everything she wanted on her own.

“I am happy,” she nodded and looked at her best friend through FaceTime. “I know everyone thinks I’m crazy. Try not to let them be too mean to me. I’m... I’m good,” she promised. “This is good.”

“You know,” Bailey grinned and shook her head. “I think you’re right.”

*

She wore her lucky dress—the one that she is certain got her a scholarship—and chose a pair of flats over heels because in her quick self-tour of the town she noted the brick sidewalks were likely to take out her ankle. She made sure every single strand of her hair wasn’t out of place. She wanted this to be a good impression. All her books and shows told her that small towns were lovely, but she was an outsider. It was possible that they wouldn’t love a newcomer and so she didn’t want to make it seem like she was changing everything.

But since it was her first night in her new home, there was nothing to eat. Nor to cook with even if she wanted to. Maybe if she had a loaf of bread, she could find her toaster in one of the boxes. Moving on her own was tough but she was proud of herself. Another check she could mark on her to-do list.

Her first order of business was securing her business. However, that couldn’t be done on an empty stomach. She locked the door to the little home she now owned. The trim needed a coat of paint, and she desperately needed to buy a lawn mower. Some of the windows needed to be replaced. She tried opening one of them and nearly threw her back out. The bushes in front of the little porch needed to be trimmed or taken out altogether.

But it was home, and it was lovely. She was excited to do it on her own. It made her feel proud.

Her family was far away. Honestly, it was for the best. They thought it was a terrible idea for her to move, maybe because they couldn’t depend on her any longer. If she thought too long about it, she got upset. But this was good. She was doing what her grandma believed she could do. What her grandpa wanted her to do.

With a family far away, her place was filled with boxes. Hardly anything was unpacked. It was a miracle she found her lucky dress but perhaps that was why it was so lucky. With the distance between them, it was easier to ignore the group chat. Easier to not feel obligated to help her family.

They’re adults, honey. They’ll figure it out.

She hoped her grandma was right.

Her friends were still in the city. Completely shocked she left the hustle and bustle for a small-town place. Their lack of support or what they passed off as worry made her nervous all the same. How would it survive? But she researched the perfect place and took plenty of time setting up everything she needed so she was ready to go when she graduated.

The only thing she wished could be different, was that her grandparents got to see her.

*

The main part of town felt like a city. But way friendlier. People shouted in the middle of the road. Kids ran across the road to the school. There were very few cars but even the ones present parked illegally and the officer strolling the sidewalks didn’t pay any mind to it. It was adorable. It felt like she was in a Disney movie, and she wanted to sing.

The center green was being set up with seats and banners. People were on walkie-talkies directing more items about the area. The space was warm and cozy. Like where she could spend the day reading in the grass and have a picnic with herself or a friend.

God, she hoped she made some friends. It seemed possible. Everyone was so nice. They all knew each other. That was evident. It was so comforting, exactly the change she wanted and needed, and she prayed they wouldn’t hate her for trying to bring something new to their little place.

As her stomach reminded her once more of its presence and emptiness, she approached the diner on one side of the main street. Squished between the post office and a shoe store. Someone was exiting as she opened the door, so she gestured for them to exit before she proceeded. “Thank you, darling,” the man tipped his hat to her.

With one deep breath, she entered.

It was like she was the new girl at school. The second she crossed the threshold of the diner, everyone stared at her. There wasn’t a voice to be heard, the only sound coming from behind the counter in the kitchen. “Uh... hi,” she swallowed. Quietly, she made her way to the counter and situated herself at the end of it away from everyone else.

Sure, she wanted to be part of the community and wanted to be liked, but she didn’t want to force it. The place continued to be quiet, although the murmuring began. No doubt everyone whispered about her. “No newcomers lately, I guess,” she mumbled under her breath and pulled out her folder of paperwork to go over it again.

You’re going to crush it! Bailey’s message read. She smiled gratefully, feeling her heart slow. She was wearing her lucky dress. It was going to happen. She was going to be happy no matter what.

“Shit!” It was paired with the distinct sound of something shattering. She turned directly to the sound as did everyone else in the place and she was on her feet immediately. It wasn’t anything major, a coffee mug on the floor.

“Jesus, honey, watch it!” It was an older woman who scolded her husband with a light thwack on the arm.

“I didn’t mean to, Alice!”

“Harry!” Someone called.

“Jus’ a second,” the voice was from the back, low, almost like it didn’t want to be heard. He must have been cooking or something because there was a commotion in the back behind the kitchen door. She didn’t think much of it because she was worried that poor Alice and her husband were going to get hurt picking up the broken shards or slip in the mess of spilled coffee on the floor.

“I can help,” she offered and crouched near the older woman—Alice—as she struggled to grab the pieces. “Here,” she grabbed a rag off the counter even though she had never been there and it wasn’t her place to do so. Gently she pushed the broken pieces and coffee into a neat little pile sopping up the mess as best she could.

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” Alice chimed. “Thank you.”

“Happy to help,” she smiled politely.

“Did you just move here?” She asked. Perhaps that would satiate the whispering.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where are you living?”

“Oh... um... Oak Street,” she stammered. It probably didn’t help her newness that she stammered. But her new address was new; she was still getting used to it.

“Oh, Holliston’s place! It’s a lovely home,” someone called from across the room.

“Y’don’t have t’do that,” it was the same voice that called from the back but now right next to her.

“Oh...” Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him. Did time seem to stop? That couldn’t be right. She wasn’t going to have a crush on the first guy she met on her first official day as a resident of the small town. “I don’t mind,” she said quickly looking up at him from her crouched position. “Happy to help and...” She stopped speaking again as he stared at her. His eyes were pretty, even if he looked grumpy. His mouth was set in a frown, and she noticed that once more everyone stopped speaking. “Sorry,” she said and stood, scooping the mess as best she could in her hands. Coffee dripped from the rag into the puddle at her feet. She could feel the splatter on her ankles, and she was nervous to look if she had ruined her shoes. It didn’t bother her, but she wasn’t sure she’d have time to head home and change before she went to the town hall.

Harry held out the tray for dirty dishes and she placed the rag, broken pieces of mug, and all into it. He dropped it on the counter about two spaces down from where her folder and purse remained. “Are you okay, ma’am?” She asked softly placing a gentle hand on her arm in a comforting kind of way.

“Alice, Ed, y’okay?” Harry—she presumed—was quiet. It almost rubbed her the wrong way that he repeated her, but he knew them, and she didn’t. So, she returned to her seat quietly after offering one more smile to Alice.

“All good, Harry,” Ed said in return.

Harry went back around the counter and fiddled with the coffee pot. He refilled a new mug and brought it over to Ed.  When he returned behind the counter he stood in front of her silently. Waiting. Not offering a word nor question.

Harry looked to be roughly her age. Handsome. If this was David’s grandson, she would have reconsidered his offer. But his scowl was to be desired. Made her uneasy. She wondered if this was how he always was or if it was something about her.

But she wanted to be liked. People generally didn’t dislike her. It would devastate her if he did. As grumpy as he seemed, she wasn’t going to shy away from her own personality. “Do y’want something?”

“What’s your favorite?” She asked glancing from the menu to him.

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a favorite.”

She blinked. He worked here. Did he own it? That would be crazy, he was so young. But she was young and about to own her business too. So who was she to judge his age? “How can you not have a favorite?”

“I like it all,” he shrugged.

“You seriously don’t have a favorite?”

“Since I own the diner,” he was explaining it like she was a toddler, “everything is good.”

“Well...” she took a deep breath. It wasn’t that she was one of those people who assumed everyone would like her, but it was... different to work for friendliness. Bailey told her she had the kind of face that would work wonders in sales. Everyone just opened up to her.

But not Harry. Harry was stoic as could be. It barely looked like he was breathing. Other than the irritation in his eyes, he had a really nice face. Smooth skin, angular jaw, and just pretty features that were probably wasted on someone so grumpy. But she could see something flicker in his eyes. Something that she wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to see which is why it was merely a flicker.

Was this grumpy man amused? By her?

“...Do you have a recommendation then?”

“Anything. It’s all good,” he was clearly over this exchange.

She thought she could get him to budge but it didn’t seem that way. This was the fast track to nowhere. Not the impression she wanted to make on her first official day in town. Sighing, she glanced at the specials board. “You have peach pancakes?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have white chocolate chips?”

Harry sighed, exasperated with the conversation, and she hadn’t even ordered her coffee yet. “Yup...” he was staring at her like this was going to kill him. Or he was going to kill her.

“Can I have one of each? Peaches and white chocolate chip?”

“What?” He seemed surprised. Which was interesting because surely it couldn’t have been crazy. Peaches and white chocolate chips had to be popular if he had them. He shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?” She frowned.

“Because s’extra work t’make a whole batch of peachpancakes and chocolate chip. One or the other.”

Maybe it was his tone or her frustration. The nerves of heading to town hall after breakfast. The piss-poor impression she was making at the extremely local diner where everyone seemed to know Harry. Even though he was grumpy they still ate there. It was obvious this wasn’t their first day being there. They still called out for him when the mug shattered even though she was more than capable of helping.

But she didn’t want to take no for an answer. Maybe if he had placated her or smiled. Or if he just didn’t look at her like she was the bane of his existence she wouldn’t have pressed. “But... I don’t want one or the other. I want one of each.”

“Get ‘em mixed together or don’t have ‘em,” he shrugged.

“But if I get them mixed together, the peaches will sink to one side or slide off all together. The chocolate chips always sink to the bottom. So the ratio in each bite will be off. I’ve tried it before; it just doesn’t blend well.”

“If I make y’one peach and one white chocolate chip, then all m’ratios will be off. I’ll have t’purchase different quantities of peaches and chocolate chips.”

“That seems a little dramatic for one plate of—"

“S’my diner! Jus’ order what’s on the menu or order four pancakes.”

“That’s absurd! I doubt I’ll even eat one whole pancake!”

Harry swallowed hard, his jaw flexing tight. Briefly he looked at the ceiling and then back at her. His voice was quieter when he spoke. “Order what’s on the menu or don’t order at—"

“Fine! Two peach pancakes!”

Honestly, she has no idea why she was arguing in the first place. It was idiotic and childish but there was something about the grumpiness that was off-putting and made her uncomfortable. Perhaps it was solely because he didn’t seem to like her, and she was trying really hard to fit in and he was the only person she had met so far that was close to her own age. If she could get him to like her, then maybe she wouldn’t be friendless and lonely.

With another large sigh (like it was painful for him to be standing near her) he rolled his eyes and headed to the back to make her breakfast. She wouldn’t be surprised if he poisoned them.

The diner was still quiet, and she could feel eyes flicking over to her repeatedly, their gazes heating her up with knowledge she was being watched. To keep her cool, she continued flipping through her paperwork folder and scrolled on her phone.

About ten minutes later, Harry returned holding her plate. It was practically silent again. The show that ensued was not forgotten by the other customers. Harry failed to hide his interest in her paperwork and failed to hide the fact he was reading whatever was in front of her. It didn’t bother her, honestly. She wanted to be an open book. Especially in a small town and especially with the guy that looked beyond irritated with her.

Trying again was insanity. But she was nothing if not one for perseverance. “Do you know what time the town hall opens? I tried to find a time online but—"

Harry snorted. “Town Hall doesn’t do online. S’whenever Sutton gets there t’unlock.”

She blinked. Small towns. “When’s that?”

“Usually before nine-thirty.”

“Usually?”

Harry shrugged, placing the plate in front of her. She could smell cinnamon and maple. Of course, the peaches were starting to caramelize as well and so it really looked utterly delicious. “Sometimes he forgets his alarm. Then s’before ten-thirty.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Alright,” she nodded. “Hey,” she called quietly as Harry turned to leave. “Do you do tabs? I’m probably going to be here every morning before work. It’s fine if you don’t. Just... figured it would easier.”

Did it get even quieter? Harry had a way with sighing. Heavily. Like talking to her and thinking were the two greatest and hardest tasks he’d ever been given in his life. Her eyes quickly darted around the place. There were enough tables to seat about twenty people plus five seats at the counter. It was busy—not crowded or full, but busy. It was just after the morning commute group had left; she had to imagine. The hustle of the nine-to-five crowd was long gone. “Sure,” he shook his head. “Every Friday.”

She was certain she didn’t imagine it that time. The entire place was silent for another ten seconds before the low murmur picked up again.

“Okay, thank you. I just... moved into town and I had no food at my house.”

“Whose house?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Whose house did y’buy?”

“Oh... uh... the Holliston’s?” Was that the name someone said a few moments ago? It had to be because no one corrected her, and it was apparent everyone was listening to her to talk to Harry.

“Nice couple,” she supposed she got it right then. “Do you want coffee?” He asked.

Was this him warming up to her? It was interesting. It wasn’t exactly warm, but it wasn’t arguing. Which she liked. Although arguing with him was kind of... fun in its own way. But she needed a friend before she argued with him for hours on end.

“Oh, yes,” she nodded quickly. “Please. Thank you.” Was it hot in there? Harry was attractive—even if he was grumpy. A sour face usually turned her off immediately. But with Harry... it didn’t seem so grumpy anymore. Especially now that he stopped arguing with her. The crease between his eyebrows disappeared. His frown turned to a more neutral expression. She swore that flicker of amusement was back again. “This is a really cute town,” she remarked.

Harry ignored the comment as he poured her a mug of steaming coffee and placed a little plate of cream and sugar packets beside it. “What brings y’here?” He asked. She did hear his skepticism like maybe he was going to kick her out before she unpacked if she wasn’t good enough for the clique-y village.

“Oh,” she swallowed. “I’m hoping to open a book shop.”

Harry tilted his head at her, surprise all over his face and she couldn’t figure out for the life of her why that would be. “Oh?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded. Approval? Was she in the club? “Alright, well... welcome, I guess. Let me know if y’need help with the water at y’house. It always gave the Holliston’s trouble in the winter, and I’d have t’go over and fix it. Don’t want y’pipes t’freeze.”

That was it. He walked away. She watched the grumpy, attractive man tend to the tables, cleaning, and serving all by himself. The others were patient. There was no rushing to get to work like it was Starbucks and everyone quietly waited their turn. There wasn’t a lot of small talk with Harry, but people smiled at him. Like they knew him from the time he was a baby. Maybe they did.

She hoped he would warm up to her. It would be nice to have a friend like him.

Turning to her breakfast, she cut into both pancakes stacked on top of one another, brought a bite of the two little pieces to her mouth after drowning it in enough maple syrup to make the man look at her suspiciously from across the room.

There was no way someone was that concerned about ratios of one patron. He could be grumpy all he wanted, but Harry was dramatic too. (Even if it was way more syrup than she needed, and he probably had a point in worrying about syrup—especially if she was going to be there every day.)

But as the bite hit her tastebuds, she had to look down and see it for herself.

One pancake was peach and the other was white chocolate chip.

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissitnhekitchen @boopookie @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204

@angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf @lizsogolden @me-undiscovered @you-sunshine

@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo @inlikea-coolway @theseaview @lunaharrygurl

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[ultramaga]

Yes and no. If someone's starting point is that reality is a social construct, then there is really no way to communicate with them. It's just collectivist solipsism. Most people find their own way out of such things or they stay until they die, but it difficult to push them out when the State is happy to foster the delusion for its own ends.

If someone thinks that you are just an illusion, there's nothing stopping them hacking you to tiny pieces. Equally, if someone is sociopathic, they might be aware I'm real in the same way an accordion is. They like the funny noises people make as they die. You cannot reason with a sociopath beyond convincing them that harming you will result in more pain for them than the pleasure they get from remembering your agony. But yeah, before leftism, I used to debate people from all walks, and that meant feminists, communists, and monarchists. The funny thing is I found religious fanatics were still more reasonable than Leftists. The religious want to save you, the Leftists want all trace of your existence purged. That's not hyperbole. Look at what BBC UK was doing to rewrite history to remove the whites, and look at Netflix Cleopatra which removed Cleopatra, as well as the egyptians. A lot of Leftists seriously think Wakanda was real - that a global civilisation of all black people lived in perfect harmony until an evil nonblack spontaneously appeared, and Wakanda can only be restored after the total obliteration of all other races. In Australia, for example, the government had an official spokesman whose role it was to go from school to school explaining that The First Nation ruled here millions of years ago, from coast to coast living without wars or anything bad, just giving each other hugs in between perfectly living in harmony and certainly not burning forests so they could scavenge the half dead animals they found afterwards. It's a lie, but this is a state funded lie, and you better be careful contradicting it because that is misinformation, and potentially a jailable offence.

I am deeply distrustful of anyone who cares so much about adhering to their political alignment and to the letter of theory that they no longer see people as individual human beings, each with complex and different lived experiences, and instead sees them as homogeneous blobs or as a means to an end. "I'm a leftist," "I'm right wing," "I'm a liberal," "I'm a communist," "I'm a socialist," and so on and so on.

Yeah, but do you still see people who disagree with you as people? Or as the automatic Other? Do you care so much about having the "correct" beliefs that your humanity and the humanity of those around you fades into unimportance?

[pinkyqily]

We'll help you through it [Ingrid engen x mapi lèon x r]

Contains : mention of depression

A/n : this a repost of my fics, my request are open

Least to say that you we're struggling life sucking every single one of your motion to keep living it felt like you lost all hope in your self you didn't know what it was but your mental health decline took a toll on you.

Every day felt like a struggle to be alive and keep on breathing. but thanks to your amazing girlfriends who were able to notice what was wrong with you.

It all started with when they had to leave a lot for away machetes you get that it was apart of their job but sometimes you felt lonely and jealous about what the two could be doing without it.

You doing what you do best overthink the whole situation but nevertheless you were able to push back.

You stopped answering there calls and texts whenever they sent in one. Just wachting the phone ring away without trying to pick it up.

Feeling worthless and unimportant as life would have been better if you just stopped living you thought to yourself.

But you never get close to doing it. It's been weeks since you last saw them as you've been ignored them.

You had a new routine now wake up work sleep and eat. And well repeat totally ignoring your other aspect of life.

Mapi and Ingrid had obviously noticed the pattern in your behavior and decided to vist you as soon has they could.

"Ingrid you think all this is enough". Mapi asked Ingrid showing her comfort bag that they brought for you filled with your favorite snacks to everything that you like.

three different brands of your favorite chocolate, huge ass blankets you wanted to get but didn't they had it your favorite movies had it makeup,dresses, accessories they had it all but mapi over here was still worrying that it wasn't enough.

"Mapi it enough or maybe to much". Ingrid questioned.

"Let's just go". she said to her girlfriend

They finally got your place with the spare key and weren't really expecting to see you in the condition that you were in.

With just one look at you it was quite obvious that you weren't getting enough sleep nor eating enough.

They both immediately dropped the things they had rushing to your side. It hurt them to see you this way like you were waiting on death.

Ingrid was the first to speak up. "Baby I'm so sorry we haven't been there for you".

"Nothing is your fault I'm particularly to blame".

"No don't say that about yourself".she told you

Mapi on the other hand didn't know what to say so she just pulled you three into a hug. you all stayed like that for a while before Ingrid started cleaning.

the whole place and convinced you to go take a bath so you could feel more relaxed. mapi was changing your bedsheets and placing the things that they got you.

By the time that you were out your places was looking better than it was before.

Ingrid made you a bowl of spicy soup putting it down and helping you with your hair and clothes on. You ate what Ingrid had prepare with mapi feeding you and not missing a single drop.

After that they both convinced you to leave the house for some fresh air. And that what you did getting in the car mapi first went back to there place to pick up bagheera to join you guys.

Having bagheera join you guys on the beach was perfect the cat being there made you perceived and calm. It wouldn't have been your normal couples walk if mapi didn't start talking you and Ingrida ears off.

Something that you missed even though she could go on for hours she was recently yapping about. how patri and pina were quite obvious about each other but to afraid to confess and how she was going to play cupid.

Let's to say you felt happy and a little better all you need was come comfort and love from you girls which they understood.

[kookooluvr]

Teach Me How To Love - Part 2

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

warnings: we meet jk's friends and tae makes his first appearance (we'll be seeing a lot more of him in future), oc is sick with a cold, jk is a simp and drops everything to make her feel better, lots of fluff, nothing explicit in this one, we find out some more of oc's rules, SATC mentioned, some marvel talk, talk of jk having a nice ass, mostly just lots of soft feels in this one <3

word count: 2.7k

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

author's note: i'm so happy to see the amount of love part 1 got !!! part 2 is a bit shorter, but i think it's important to see their dynamic outside of the whole fwb thing. i'm aiming for the upcoming parts to be longer, i promise. i hope you enjoy all the feels in this one, and don't be shy to send me your feedback 🫶🏻

find tmhtl masterlist here

Jungkook sits at a table in a rather fancy restaurant, half-listening to his friends as they joke about something over dinner. They've been meaning to get together for a while but they've all been so busy with work and their personal lives that it just never worked out until tonight. Well, it worked out tonight because Taehyung practically forced everyone to come.

"Yo, earth to Jungkook."

He looks over at Jimin with raised eyebrows, realizing he was caught staring at his phone in his lap. He knows he should be paying attention to the conversation happening around him, and he knows that it's rude to be on his phone while he's in company, but he hasn't heard from you all day and usually you would've exchanged words (or funny memes) by now.

It's not that he MUST speak to you all day, every day to survive, but it just happens. If he sees a funny video of a cat on TikTok, he sends it to you. If you forgot how to do something on Excel, you text him and he replies within two minutes to explain how to do it. Sometimes he even goes through the trouble of doing it himself, screen recording it and sending it to you to give you a step-by-step guide. That's just how it goes with the two of you.

"Huh? Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I was just asking if there's a special someone in your life," Jimin says with a little grin, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

"Actually, what he asked was if you're still on track to die alone," Namjoon quips, Jimin waving him off with a little "eh, same thing".

Jungkook rolls his eyes, flatly denying any romantic relations. It's not like he's lying. He just can't say that he might have started developing feelings for the woman he's casually sleeping with, so he just settles on, "Naah, I'm too busy with work." It's easier.

They know their friend is a terrible liar, but they also know that he would tell them if he really wanted to, so they don't pry. They've heard your name once or twice in passing, a little comment here and there like 'y/n likes that movie' or 'y/n uses this perfume'. As far as they know, you're his work friend. That's it. Even Taehyung doesn't know much about you, and he works at the same university as an English Literature lecturer, which brings us to rule #2.

Rule #2: It stays between us. It's just less complicated if less people know, and Jungkook knows that if his friends knew about it, they'd be pestering him about you all night and he doesn't need that right now, especially when his eyes drift back down to his phone and there's still no text from you.

You're in bed, surrounded by snotty tissues and a sleeping Miso, who really couldn't care less that you just underwent a violent coughing fit. You're about to doze off, when your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You check the notification, and when you see who it's from, you swear you feel your heart rate rise, but maybe it's just from all the coughing.

prof jeon |7:50pm]: hey, you. prof jeon 17:50pm]: haven't heard from you all day... prof jeon [7:51pm]: are you mad at me bc i said sex in the city was boring??? 👀😭😭

You [7:51pm]: first of all, it's sex AND the city 💀 You [7:52pm]: and it's not boring, you're just a nerd who can't watch anything other than marvel

He laughs, knowing he should've expected that response. Your next message comes through shortly after.

You [7:53pm]: sorry for the radio silence You [7:53pm]: i have a nasty cold 😵‍💫 You [7:53pm]: feel like i was hit by a bus You [7:53pm]: took some cough drops and slept for most of the day

He really shouldn't feel the need to immediately rush to your aid, but he does.

prof jeon [7:53pm]: want me to come over?

You [7:54pm]: you don't have to do that, kook You [7:54pm]: i don't wanna get my germs all over you 😕

prof jeon [7:54pm]: don't be silly   prof jeon [7:54pm]: i’ve had your bodily fluids on me before, who cares about a little snot 😂😂😂   prof jeon [7:55pm]: i can be there in a little bit 

You [7:56pm]: you're gross 🙄 You [7:56pm]: and really nice

prof jeon [7:56pm]: see you in a bit x

He excuses himself from dinner with the excuse of a family emergency and promises his friends to hang out again soon. He grabs his coat and heads out to his car, making a stop at your favourite Thai restaurant for some pho before driving over to your place.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and dragged yourself back to bed as soon as he texted you to let you know he's on his way up. You hear the door open and in walks Jungkook, looking very handsome you might add.

"You're dressed awfully fancy to take care of my cold," you tease with a little smile, your eyes drifting down to the plastic bag in his hand, a bag you know all too well due to countless trips to that specific Thai restaurant. "And you brought food?"

He smiles as he removes his coat and walks over to the side of your bed, placing the pho on your nightstand before sitting down on the edge of the bed, clearly not bothered by the array of tissues scattered around the duvet. Miso sees him and gets up from her spot on the bed, sauntering off to the living room, almost as if she knows her mom is about to get folded like a pretzel again. But Jungkook's not here for that tonight.

"I was actually out at dinner with some friends when I texted you. And I thought you might've been too lazy to get up and actually eat dinner, so I brought soup."

The thought of him dropping his plans with his friends just to come over and take care of you fills you with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Maybe it's just your high temperature. Maybe it's the fact that he's just so kind to you. Whatever the reason may be, you're too sick and weak to fight the soft smile tugging at your lips.

"Thank you, Jungkook."

"Don't thank me. I just didn't want you to drown in your own mucus."

Your laugh makes his heart feel funny, even if it barely managed to escape your sore throat.

He opens the lid of the steaming hot pho and holds a spoonful to your lips. If you were your usual healthy self, you would've told him that you're fully capable of feeding yourself, but you're sick and vulnerable and he has that soft look in his eyes, so you let him feed you the soup. It's warm and a little spicy, and it instantly makes you feel better as it slides down your throat. It's just that good. That, and the fact that he bought it for you and drove all this way to feed it to you.

He makes sure you take any necessary medication and even helps you flip over to lay on your stomach so that he can rub some VapoRub on your back, his hands giving you the comfort you didn't know you so desperately needed.

You aren't used to being taken care of by such a gentle man. He blows on your soup for you so that you don't burn your tongue. He wets a cloth with cold water and lays it on your forehead to bring down your temperature. He touches you like you're some delicate porcelain that could break at any moment. When he lays down with you and runs his fingers through your hair, you don't fight it. When he presses a soft kiss to your cheek, you don't protest like you normally would because rule #3 is no kissing outside of sex but you don't even care right now. You let him take care of you when you normally wouldn't. You allow yourself to be taken care of because it feels too good to overthink.

Jungkook feels a bit selfish for relishing in your current state because it allows him to care for you in your time of need. He would do it for any of his friends because that's the type of person he is, but this is different. This is you, and he would drive for hours and hours to get to you if you ever needed him. He would put everything on hold to be there for you. Hell, he would run into a burning building if you were in there. Because it's you.

He props his head up on his elbow and looks down at you, taking in your fevery flushed cheeks, your heavy-lidded eyes, your stuffy nose, and he thinks that no other woman will ever be as beautiful to him as you. He's not Taehyung. He doesn't teach literature and he doesn't have the best way with words, but he could spend hours writing poetry about the sound of your laugh or how animated you get when you're really passionate about something. He could sit and watch paint dry all day if you sat by his side and did it with him.

Jungkook takes the tv remote from the nightstand to turn on Sex and The City, clicking on a random episode from season 6 and getting comfortable next to you.

"What happened to Sex and The City being boring, hm?" you chuckle, giving him a teasingly pointed look.

"What, you want me to turn it off?"

"No, I just thought you didn't like it."

"But you like it."

You turn your attention back to the tv as a smile threatens to break out on your face, your head turned so that he doesn't see how much that simple response affected you.

He barely remembers the characters' names or much of the plot, but you enjoy the show, so he watches it with you, making comments here and there and even asking questions just so he can listen to your voice as you explain why Carrie Bradshaw does what she does. He mentally pats himself on the back for getting through a good handful of episodes before inevitably getting bored.

When you get up to go to the bathroom, he just can't help himself and turns on one of the Avengers movies, offering you a sheepish grin when you come back and see what's on your tv.

You roll your eyes and get back in bed, watching Iron Man perform a monologue for the millionth time. "Captain America's better."

He gives you a look like you just killed his dog or something, and you already know what's coming.

"Are you insane?! Iron Man is so obviously the best Avenger, y/n."

"He doesn't look like Captain America, though."

"He doesn't have to," he scoffs, looking back at the tv. "He's got that whole rich CEO thing going for him. Plus, he's like, a genius."

"Nerds defending nerds, I guess," you tease with a faint smile.

He grins, a hint of smugness in his expression. "Are you saying I'm like Iron Man? Because if you are, that's a huge compliment."

"Iron Man's a bit more of a bad boy," you chuckle, narrowing your eyes at him as you try to think of who he resembles in the Avengers. "You're more...boy next door, kinda like Spider Man."

"Wha- excuse me, I can be a bad boy too if I want," he quips, trying to sound offended, but when you mention Spider Man it kinda makes up for it. "I guess I'll take Spider Man. I do have a nice ass."

You laugh, giving him a puzzled look. "Who said anything about Spider Man's ass?"

"He's like, known for having a great ass. Have you seen him in his suit?"

"So, that's it? That's why you'd make a good superhero? Because you have a nice ass?"

"Well...not just my ass. I'd make a great superhero because...y'know...great power, great responsibility and all that other stuff."

You scoff, shrugging like you can't argue with that.

He's quiet for a while, a full-blown fight scene playing out on the tv, his mind starting to wander a bit.

"You'd be Black Widow. You've got that badass, independent woman vibe," he murmurs, looking over at you with a soft smile.

"You think so?"

"Oh yeah. You're smart, confident, you don't take crap from anyone. Plus, you'd look really hot in the tight outfit." He just can't help himself.

You roll your eyes, softly swatting his bicep. "Of course that's what you think of."

He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, feigning innocence. "Hey, what can I say? I'm a man, I like what I like."

And I like you. He can't say it out loud, but acknowledging it is enough for now, and when the cough syrup starts taking effect and your eyes slowly start to droop, he feels content with just having your head on his chest.

His phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket to see a text from Taehyung, and your eyes are barely open when they land on the screen. You didn't even mean to look, it was kinda just an instinctive thing, but you're not interested in his private texts from his friends. What catches your eye is the photo on his lock screen. It's a photo of the two of you from a year ago, both of you making silly faces at the camera. It's a cute photo. If anyone else were to see it, they'd think you're a couple.

“I didn't know that’s your lock screen,” you mumble, your voice a lot sleepier than it was an hour ago.

“Are you snooping?” he teases with a little scoff.

“I didn't mean to look, your phone is kinda in my face from this angle,” you murmur through a soft chuckle, looking down at the photo.

“I like this photo of us.” He smiles when you tap the screen after it goes black, wanting to get another look.

“Coulda used one that I actually look pretty in,” you murmur jokingly, and as the cough syrup drains the last of your consciousness, the last thing you hear is a soft, “But you’re always pretty, y/n.”

The next morning, you wake up feeling a little bit disorientated after taking all that cold medicine, blinking a few times to clear your vision. You slowly sit up in bed and check your phone, seeing that it's 10am. You almost think you overslept for work, but you realize it's Sunday. You think back to the night before, the way Jungkook came over and fed you soup, the way he gently put VapoRub on your back and made sure you were well taken care of. You turn your head to find Miso in the spot that Jungkook was in last night, and you would feel disappointed that he’s not there anymore if Miso weren't so damn cute. It's not like you expected him to still be here this morning. After all, staying the night is another boundary you don't cross, and he respects that, which explains why he left a little while after you fell asleep.

You feel that fuzzy feeling in your chest again when you take a better look at what's on your nightstand. Your water bottle stands tall, which Jungkook filled before he left last night, along with a little note from one of the notebooks on your desk.

The note says, 'Hope you're feeling a bit better. Get lots of rest and drink your fluids. Don't worry about falling asleep, Miso made sure I saw myself out. Hope to see you at work tomorrow xx'

You read the note again, and then again. It's simple but thoughtful. He didn't have to write a note. He didn't have to come over last night to tend to your illness, but he did, and you aren't surprised because he's him. That's just what he does.

You think about last night until you have to consciously stop yourself from smiling so much because your cheeks feel a bit stiff. You grab your phone from the nightstand and scroll to his contact, your fingers quickly sliding across the keyboard.

You [10:23am]: thank you for coming over last night, kook You [10:23am]: i owe you fr

prof jeon [10:25am]: you really don't 🙄 prof jeon [10:25am]: i just wanted to be there for you prof jeon [10:26am]: it's what spider man would've done 👀

You [10:26am]: 👁️👄👁️ You [10:26am]: nerd

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Viktor x Reader Headcanons

Pronouns for reader: Gender neutral, AFAB undertones if you squint

Relationship type: Platonic to Romantic

General Idea: Some silly little headcanons I have for Viktor because he's still my silly little princess. Even after the whole glorious evolution thing.

Content Warnings: S1 Viktor, no S2 spoilers, But there as little bit of s2 viktor's mindset, I'm projecting a little bit (a lot) but it's fine.

~☆~

I honestly see Viktor as asexual with light aromantic undertones (kinda like demiromantic, I guess??). He rarely ever developes romantic feelings. Like its a once in a blue moon thing.

Like... he has to know you for YEARS before something in his head is like "Oh... hey they kinda cute?"

However, when he DOES develop feelings that go beyond friendship, Viktor HEAVILY struggles with coming to terms with them. Not in like a "I don't DO feelings" type way, but more in a "Well... no... it could be this" type of way.

Oh, his heart rate speeds up a little bit when you two accidently brush hands? It must just be his nerves.

When he does realize that he has feelings for someone, it's kind of like that scene in Gravity Falls where Dipper is like "It's not like I stay awake at night thinking about Wendy" and it cuts to him laying awake thinking about Wendy XD

If he likes someone romantically, he talks about them a lot. Like as if trying to bring them up as much as he can. Like "Oh (Y/N) mentioned something about that book, said they really liked it" Or "(Y/N) actually said something similar about that topic" If he could yap about you for hours, he probably would.

Even if you're being PAINFULLY obvious about your romantic feelings towards Viktor, he will firmly believe you're just being friendly.

Why he does it is a mix between two things: one is that he's just not awesome with people. And second is that he firmly believes someone like you could never love someone like him back.

One night, Viktor had been constantly working without break, so you practically dragged him to his room by his ear and forced him to get some rest.

Viktor has a strong habit of having his workspace FILLED with old mugs, sometimes days old. He doesn't really mean to, just too wrapped up in Hextech to really notice.

He also struggles with meals too. Just like above, because he literally just gets too wrapped up in his work.

If Viktor actually confesses feelings, it's such an interesting experience. Because he doesn't just flat out say "Hey I have feelings for you". He stumbles over his words and rambles about something random in the middle of it. So you gotta help him out a little bit.

Viktor's love language is quality time. He'll make sure his seat is next to you when it can, he always yaps about what he's uncovered about Hextech.

Speaking of Hextech, if you just sit there and watch him work? He'd about die of happiness on the spot. If you, someone he really loved, took an interest to something he truly loved DOING? Perfect.

He used to get really flustered about physical affection. Like you held his hand one time and he about combusted. He was red in the face for hours. He got better with it overtime, of course. But for the first few months, he was pretty much bright red the whole time.

Dates are rare, neither of you have the time for it. But when you two do have dates of some kind, they're mostly stay at home type things.

You know that thing kids do? Like playing their own separate things together? Parallel play, I think it's called? Yeah you two do that a lot.

Viktor will be reading some papers and you'll be reading a book, your feet in his lap.

Speaking of, Viktor is such a reader omg He doesn't read a lot anymore due to his constant workload, but when he does, he reads a lot of like... old books. The ones with yellowing pages and smell nice? Yeah... those ones!

If you two slept in the same bed, he'd be all like... giggly and nervous the first few times. Just like affection, he'd get used to it. But it's still cute.

When you two are cuddling, run your fingers in his hair. He'll melt right into you regardless of the situation. It's like an instant relax button for him.

Him laying his head on your chest, and you running your fingers through his hair? Something about it just... works. It calms him down a lot and makes him feel at peace.

His favorite place to kiss is the crook of your neck. Especially if you're around his height (he's like... between 5'7 and 5'10. I don't remember exactly).

Or your temples. It's simple, it doesn't attract a lot of attention. And let's be real, it's underrated as hell.

He's not big on PDA, but he'll hold your hand in public. He likes holding onto just one of your fingers, like your pinkie or something like that. It, just like temple kisses, is simple and discreet.

He doesn't often say "I love you". He feels bad about it, but you don't mind. He often says I love you without saying it. Things like holding you while you sleep, kissing your forehead as you two read in each other's arms, weaving your fingers with his while he works.

He gets self-conscious a lot. He thinks you could do a lot better than him and that he's not perfect.

Please kiss this poor boy all over and tell him he's perfect as is 😭😭

~☆~

A/N:The Arcane brainrot has gotten to me... This is how I'm coping with the finale. But I've wanted to write Viktor or Sevika stuff for a HOT minute now. I've been in the Arcane fandom for YEARS (a fanfic writer even longer) but this is my first Arcane fic... wild XD

For more fics: my masterlist!

~Squeed

[auroras-zenith]

what doesn't kill you // part 3

you had your whole life planned out for you; start an agency with your best friend, scale the charts and make japan your bitch. but when a tragic accident leaves you incapacitated and out of a job, you find you just need to start fresh. you cut ties–and for two years, you've all but disappeared. until they need you again and come knocking at your door.

bakugo x retiredpro!reader

prologue ✧ previous ✧ next

"They say there's a chance you could learn to walk again." He offered, trying to be as optimistic as he could. Lord knows you didn't need another thing to feel bad about.

"How big a chance?"

He flushed, looking away.

He had caught you after you had passed out, moving to sit beside you afterward.

The nurses were beginning to bustle about. You had caught a few pitying glances already–each one only making you wish your bed would swallow you whole.

"It's been done before."

"I know you know the stats." You said with a sigh.

He sighed too, squeezing your hand. "I just... I don't want you to feel like you can't. I know you can."

"Izuku."

He winced. "One in a hundred."

You sunk a little lower beneath the sheets at that.

The silence stretched on, neither of you knowing exactly what to say after that.

"Sorry I'm late." The door quietly swung shut behind the heterochromic boy as he moved to take a seat beside you; saving both of you from the awkward tension. "I couldn't get out of the press conference."

Right. Because for the rest of them, hero work went on.

You pushed the thought to the corner of your mind, adding it to the list of things you'd think about later.

He pulled a chair over, blank eyes softening as he saw you. He leaned over to give you a quick hug. "I'm happy you're okay." He said softly.

"How'd it go? Have you guys found him?" You asked, ignoring the last comment for no reason beyond its awkward nature.

You had learned from Midoriya that you had been out for two weeks, but he hadn't any other information. Apparently, he had spent most of his time here with you.

Todoroki nodded. "Bakugo did. The day after the incident." He informed you solemnly.

Your heart clenched oddly at the name.

"He got to the fucker before the authorities could. Beat him up pretty bad. For a second it looked like Bakugo was going to be charged with assault because the villain could barely walk after, but... given the circumstances..." He looked down, shaking his head.

You flicked a piece of lint off your blanket glumly. "Suppose he's been pretty busy then." You muttered bitterly.

That was the next question you had grilled Midoriya for. Turned out, in the half a month you had been in a coma, Bakugo hadn't dropped by once.

Todoroki looked at you, blinking slowly. "Y/n, it's not like that."

You scoffed but said nothing.

"It really isn't. He was so angry. He is so angry. He didn't go home that night. He stayed up until dawn looking for the villain and didn't stop till he found the guy." He told you. "He's just processing."

You sighed, turning to look out the window. "I guess." You just wished that he could process here. With you. And maybe some better food.

"He'll visit soon."

It was like that for the next couple of days. All of your friends, acquaintances, even a bunch of people you knew only by name–all showing up to wish you a speedy recovery and look at you with their pitying gazes that made your skin crawl.

And yet through it all, Bakugo never showed up.

"Are you up for another visitor?"

You looked up, slightly surprised to see a purple haired girl standing in the doorway. Jirou, as you recalled from high school–or rather, Earphone Jack she went by now.

You shrugged, nodding sulkily. What did it matter, really?

"Thanks for coming." You spoke quietly. So unlike your usual self.

She stared at you for a minute as you stared firmly at your lap. Everyone's pity was starting to drown you alive–and you had concluded that the only way to survive it was to pretend it wasn't there.

"Hiroshi and Yutaka Kota." She finally broke the silence.

You glanced up, confused. "What?"

"The children you saved." The girl answered. "Those were their names."

You shook your head. She must've been confused. "I wasn't able to save them." You whispered, hands clenched tightly together in your lap. "I was too slow.

"You're wrong. They were a bit banged up, but thanks to you they had just enough time to escape before the building really collapsed."

That couldn't have been right. And yet you wished so dearly that it was. You felt tears welling up in your eyes again–whether because you were happy or sad you weren't quite sure.

"I'm really sorry that this happened to you." She said quietly.

But there was something off about her tone. It wasn't pitying. Didn't feel like nails on a chalkboard as most people's did so often nowadays. It was... understanding. It was actually quite nice.

"But I thought it'd be nice for you to know that it wasn't for nothing. Including those two, 326 people accredit their lives to you, Cordelia."

You looked away, feeling the tears leak down your cheeks now.

"Thank you." You whispered. "It was getting really tiring hearing people tell me how 'at least I didn't die,' or some other unrealistically optimistic bullshit."

She snorted. "That's lowkey a weird thing to say to someone."

"Tell me about it."

She looks at you, and smiles.

Why had you two not been close before? You had both gone to UA together–hell, you two had more mutuals than you could count. And yet, you had never found yourselves in the other's company; and even after you both graduated, you never saw her on the field.

"Are you going to go to the hero gala?" She asked after a beat of pause.

Right. The hero gala. In the grand scheme of things, it just seemed so trivial now. "I didn't think I was still invited." You said honestly, letting your shoulders rise and fall.

"Of course you are." She corrected. "Cordelia, if anyone can learn to walk again? It's you. And even if you can't, that doesn't change your legacy. You're amazing, dude."

You smiled softly down at your sheets. "Yeah, I guess. Maybe. I'll think about it."

"Do. It's in three days. I'll see you there, okay?"

"Wait." You called as she stood before she could make it all the way to the door. "Why did you visit me?" You asked at last.

She smiled to herself, as if thinking upon a fond memory. "You're awesome. I always see you on the news. You're revolutionizing the space. Paving the way for women. It's amazing. Honestly." She told you proudly. "You're amazing, Cordelia."

For the first time in weeks, the load in your eyes lightened slightly, and you felt your lips tug into a small smile. It didn't erase the ache in your heart or bring back feeling to your legs, but it was something.

a/n: istg my tags are broken 🥲 sorry if ur tag doesn't work

taglist:@floverisland @biancatomlinson @rosaryia @highlandhyena @sarashu @rednicotine @emmaiscool22 @your-mum3000 @whoreforfictionalmen18 @sikuthealien

permanent tags: @phtmmsqrde @pikachuzhc

[aayakashii]

Helloo Aya love your content as always and I have a request if you want to do it😊

Could you write "how would the Vagastrom and Jabberwock ghouls(+jin cause he's the only one I care about from frostheim lmao😭) propose to you/mc"😩

Anyways either way I love your fics and headcanons pls never die❤️

I love when ppl say "pls never die" to someone and now I feel elated that I'm on the receiving end of that too LMAO thank you for enjoying what I write <3 and thank you for helping me get out of my writing slump holy crap 😭

Warnings: none. Just tooth-rotting fluff, I might need a shot of insulin after writing this.

proposal headcanons

Jin

It depends on you, first and foremost.

If you're introverted, he'll make sure it'll be just the two of you, in the dim light of candles, with a dinner catered entirely to you.

Gentle music will be playing in the background as you two talk, and he tries to calm down his nerves by holding your hand tightly throughout the night.

You barely feel when he slips the ring into your finger, only noticing it when a precious gemstone glints brightly as he kisses your ring finger and murmurs the question into your trembling hand.

If you're extroverted, he'll throw a party just for the occasion. Whatever theme you like, you can consider it done.

You'll have the prettiest dress, the tastiest foods, the most delicious drinks with all the people you love surrounding you, despite you not knowing what warranted such a grand celebration.

Laughter and happy conversation suddenly quiet down as Jin brings you to the center of the room and gets down on one knee and the guests swoon over your fairytale romance.

Either way you prefer will be more than perfect for him, as long as your answer to his question is "yes".

Alan

Oh, he's so nervous. Almost can't look at you in the eye for an entire week before he gets the ring ready.

However, Alan isn't the type of guy who would prepare a special event for the proposal (but if you love him, you know this would never be his type of thing).

He does, however, want privacy to say whatever he needs to, if his heart finally decides to pour out of his mouth.

So, he takes you to a small hike.

Once you two can't hear anything besides the sound of leaves crunching under your feet and birds singing, he holds your hand tightly and turns towards you.

It's quick but soft and brimming with emotion: Alan only needs to tell you, through stutters and endearing mumbles, that you mean everything to him and that he wants to spend a lifetime with you.

He doesn't even need to ask whether or not you'd marry him. You're already hugging him so tight that you vanquish all of his anxieties in a fell swoop.

His heart thumps loudly in his chest, right under your ear, and he buries his face in your hair. You stay like this for a while, grounded and almost merged into each other.

You two only let go only when he finally remembers to slip the ring in your finger.

Leo

It's a show for the ages. It's not surprising at all that Leo would plan the fanciest, flashiest, trendiest proposal.

It will all be going straight to his TikTok right away.

But you already knew that. You know all the things that come with dating Leo. You know that his online career is way too important for him. You're fine with letting millions of fans ogle at him as he winks and vlogs and dances for them.

Because they will never see what you see.

They'll never really see how Leo's eyes look brimming with tears, nor how his hands tremble a little bit as he puts a ring on your finger.

They can't hear the little crack on his voice as he rests his forehead on yours and quietly asks you to marry him.

And when he turns to the camera, internet persona covering the tender little parts of him that he only lets you see, a smug smile on his face after you said yes, you know that you're the only one who truly knows him.

You're the only one who will marry him.

Sho

You're in for a ride, quite literally.

You don't suspect anything when he invites you to ride his motorcycle with him – Bonnie is his baby and you're his favorite person, it's more than common for him to get the two of you together.

Sho, however, can barely hide his anxiety. The dark blue band in the ring box feels like it weighs a ton, tucked deep in his pockets.

You notice his uneasiness. Of course you do. Your mind races with awful thoughts, and, as you two get off Bonnie, you immediately hold his hands, begging him to please let you know if you did anything to make him upset.

Sho feels like a dumbass. He thought he was hiding his emotions well, but it was silly of him to expect that you, of all people, wouldn't see straight into him.

But it's such a pretty day, and the air feels crisp, and the sunset paints you with orange rays of sunlight, and you look prettier than ever in his eyes.

He sighs and pulls the ring box out his pocket, putting it on your hand. His face burns with embarrassment as he says the words out loud, squashing any doubt you could ever have about the strength of your relationship with him.

You say yes as tears of relief escape your eyes, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, a small laugh bubbling out of your mouth as you feel how warm his skin is.

Haru

From the moment he saw you holding Peekaboo in your arms, Haru knew what he wanted.

He waited and waited, wondering when it could be considered socially acceptable to ask you to marry him.

Oh, if only Bahnti could make him run fast through time as well.

He tells you so once he finally decides to propose, holding the ring box he had bought right after meeting you. It was now old and muddied after all those long, agonizing months in which he kept it hidden inside his pockets.

He tells you of all the times he thought of buying other rings, one exponentially different than the other, because it was so hard not to think of you whenever he saw anything bright and pretty.

It's easy for him to see his future with you, and he promises to also make it easy for you to live with him.

He doesn't expect you to tend to his wounds nor work like he does. No, he would never even think of having you break a sweat for him.

Haru only wishes to be on the receiving end of your caring hands as well.

When you accept his proposal, you pull him onto your lap, fingers threading into his hair, and he sleeps, knowing he would wait it out all over again if it always meant you'd be his.

Towa

It doesn't take long for Towa to propose. In fact, he probably proposes every single day ever since you two got together.

But it's always light-hearted, like another way for him to say "I love you" without actually saying it.

He's given you countless rings made of flower stems, which you keep tucked safely inside a box, despite all of them withering way too soon.

When he's serious about it, however, you know.

There's not playfulness nor mirth in his eyes – just deep, infinite adoration. A seriousness on his face that shakes you to your core.

When he slips yet another ring in your finger, you notice: this one was made to look like a flower stem, but it was made of a silvery, hard band.

"This one will never wither," he says under the night sky you two had been watching. "It's a proof that I want to be with you forever".

His proposal is more of a statement than a question. You will marry him, he knows and you know as well.

And you couldn't be happier.

Ren

He hates the idea of proposals. Hates how much attention is drawn to a couple during marriage, hates the huge parties, the self-importance of couples who think the world should clap for them for just being together.

Therefore, he really doesn't expect to have marriage popping up in his mind every time he looks at you, a little into your relationship with him.

It's more of a reassurance than a romantic gesture to him.

Whenever you laugh at his jokes, spend time watching his awful horror movies, listen to his ramblings about games–

Whenever you look at him, kiss him and say his name–

Whenever you exist next to him, he wants, needs the reassurance that you won't simply go away in the blink of an eye. You won't leave him behind, back into a solitude he doesn't think he can handle anymore. Not after you.

So when he asks you after a binge of awful movies, if you'd like to spend the rest of your life with him, he does it out of desperation.

If he likes it, he needs to put a ring on it, right? Or whatever it is that someone said some time ago.

Your smile when you say you do is almost blinding. He nods and looks away, noticing his reflection on his notebook's screen seems awfully flustered.

"We'll go out to buy rings tomorrow, then." He murmurs. You lean onto his shoulder, agreeing and he sighs.

It will definitely feel good to see the proof that you're his right there, glinting on your finger.

[spiderb00]

Fam out 2 - Sophia Laforteza

Sophia Laforteza X Reader 

Synopsis - Sophia still loves when you're caring, she REALLY loves it! 

Genre – Fluff, still a little suggestive at the end ;) 

a/n - Thank you anon who asked for this, I wasn't going to do second part but I loved it, so here it is <3  request

Part 1 Part 2 part 3

MAMA 2024 happened, the girls on stage, the bright lights, the well-executed choreography, the excitement, it all happened very fast. One moment the girls were on stage and the next Sophia was in your arms. The Filipino girl seemed happy and relieved that it was over, the comfort of your arms helped Sophia's breathing to calm down and everything seemed perfect.   

Until you hear unregulated breathing. But not like that one when you're just tired, no, that one looked different. Moving away from Sophia slightly, you can see a Yoonchae seemingly hyperventilating. And then it was like everything got a little murky. 

"Yoonchae, are you okay?" You said, your hand linked to Sophia's as you dragged the black-haired girl closer to the youngest.   

Panic set in when the younger girl didn't respond verbally, just looking at you with tears in her eyes. It seemed that Yoonchae's legs would give way at any moment, and that's exactly what happened. Your sixth sense helped hold the girl before her knees hit the ground. 

"CAN SOMEONE BRING A CHAIR, PLEASE!" You screamed.   

"There's a sofa in the dressing room, can you take it?" A staff member says as he points the way.    

You gently took Yoonchae in your arms, carrying it in bridal style. As you followed the staff, you could hear Sophia trying to calm the girls, who were coming quickly after you. 

"Yoonchae, dear, keep your eyes open, breathe with me, I'm here, okay. It's going to be okay." You repeated it like a mantra. 

"It's going to be okay," was what you kept repeating in your head, knowing that staying calm was best in this situation, because that way you had a better chance of calming Yoonchae down faster, and wouldn't leave the Kats in total panic.   

Laying Yoonchae on the couch, you asked someone to get some water, Megan quickly stepping up. Daniela tried to stay calm along with Lara, the two wondering if they could do something to calm the situation.  

"Yoonchae, here, I'm here. Breathe along with me, okay?" The younger girl shaking her head.   

Yoonchae tried to imitate the speed of your breathing, holding your hand, the younger girl looked into your eyes. Megan had handed the bottle of water to Sophia, who was now looking at the scene with a heavy heart.     

As Yoonchae's breathing calmed, everyone's nerves were lowered. Still holding your hand, Yoonchae drank water, receiving scratches on her head, from Sophia. Your girlfriend now looking at you, when your eyes met, you felt relieved, the comfort of knowing that you managed to handle the situation.   

As the leader of Katseye, sometimes Sophia was called to meetings and things like that, you didn't know much, but you knew that whenever Sophia came home, all she wanted was to sleep clinging to you.   

So today, you decided to go to the Kats' house to wait for your girlfriend to arrive, greeting the girls when you arrived and going to the room that Sophia shared with Yoonchae. You knocked before entering, even though Yoonchae was probably asleep. But the biggest surprise was when the younger girl opened the door.   

"Hey Yoonchae, I thought you were sleeping. I brought you some things." You said lifting the bag so the girl could see.   

"What did you bring?" She asked, dragging you inside.   

"Nothing much, just a few snacks." you said.  

Minutes later you and Yoonchae were lying in the younger one's bed, a movie Yoonchae chose playing on TV while you and the younger one devoured the snacks you had bought. 

When the door to the room was opened, none of you noticed. Sophia, who had finally arrived from a meeting, quickly got a warm heart watching the scene. The movie was still playing on television, but you and Yoonchae had been asleep for a long time. The younger girl's head resting on your shoulder, by this time Yoonchae had a blanket wrapped around herself, while you froze to death. The bag of snacks was almost empty, only one package of candy was closed, Sophia recognized that, they were her favorites.  

The Filipino girl wasted no time, taking a picture of you and Yoonchae and making a mental note to post later on her Instagram. Lightly kissing your cheek, Sophia went straight to the shower, she couldn't wait to join you two. 

Olivia Rodrigo's concert seemed like a dream for Sophia and Yoonchae. They were both extremely excited and even if you couldn't keep up with their excitement, it was great to see your favorite girls so happy.   

 Now, you've always been a calm person, few people had really seen a more aggressive side of you. Today, you didn't expect to be stressed, despite the huge queues and the large concentration of people in the same place, you were happy because Sophia and Yoonchae were happy. But now, you were no longer sure about it.   

Forgetting your wallet in the car seemed like a normal thing, at least boring, I mean, people forget things all the time. Leaving Sophia and Yoonchae in line, you quickly went to your car and grabbed your wallet, oh, how you wished you hadn't done that.   

As you walked closer to the girls, you can clearly see a guy hitting on Sophia. Normally this wouldn't make you so angry, but the fact that the guy was trying to hold Sophia against the wall made his blood boil. Getting closer you can hear Yoonchae say something, but all your decency was thrown into the air when you heard him reply "Shut up brat," while still holding Sophia to the wall with his arms. 

Coming up behind the guy, you can see the look of relief on your girlfriend's face, which soon turned to concern when you grabbed the guy by the back of the sweatshirt he was wearing.   

"Stay away from her, you fucking idiot." You said, holding on tight as the guy struggled.   

Looking at the boy's face for the first time, you can see how pathetic he looked. He was a little shorter than you and slightly taller than Sophia, he looked like he was about nineteen and had horrible bangs.   

"Sorry, please, I thought she was single." The boy said, it felt like he was about to start crying.   

"I said she had her girlfriend you idiot." Yoonchae said glancing at the boy.   

"And I told you to shut up!" The boy answered without thinking.   

"HEY!" By shifting the grip from the back to the front of the boy's sweatshirt, you pulled him up to your eye level. "You'll never talk to her like that again, do you understand?"  

The boy quickly shook his head. 

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't know she was with you, please let me go."  

Not wanting to get in trouble with the security guards and also not wanting to ruin the girls' night even more, you let go of the boy with brutality, which made him trip and fall on his butt on the floor.   

"Get the hell out of here before I change my mind, you asshole."  

The boy ran away making you snort with such mediocrity.   

 "Wow, I had never seen that Yn side of you, it was always the calm Yn." Yoonchae said, while laughing.  

Sophia just looked at you with a smile.   

"Sometimes idiots make me mad." 

Finally you could enter the stadium to find your seats. With Yoonchae a little in front, without leaving your view, you felt Sophia grab your bicep as she leaned close to your ear.   

"That guy was an idiot, but I kind of enjoyed seeing you all mad..." The Filipino girl said as she bit her lower lip.   

"You liked it, did you?" you asked, seeing Sophia shake her head positively, knowing exactly where this was going.  

"I'll show you how much I enjoyed it when we get home."    

____________________________

damn, I have to stop making the endings always seem suggestive (I won't stop)

[icarusredwings]

After Logan was given a piece of the girls clothing, he gave a funny look to the officer.

"... did she own rabbits?"

"Awww bunnys!!" Wade coes, interrupting the conversation. He couldn't smell the scent, but he could tell just from the shirt alone that there was animal hair on it. White, slightly dark tipped.

The officer gave a scrunched up look. "About that... she IS a rabbit.."

"What?" Logan growls, about to rip this man a new one when a woman came to him with big watery eyes. "She's not a rabbit! She's a shifter! S-she just got her powers a couple of weeks ago a-and now my baby girl is lost in these woods!"

"So is she a rabbit or not? Because she sure as fuck smells like one."

"Dang Logan, She lost her daughter, it's not her fault." Wade whispers to him, knowing how frustrated he must be but he didn't want him snapping at the poor woman, whos shirt was already soaked (and starting to freeze) from tears, her hair was a mess, the bags under her eyes suggested that she hasn't rested since she's found out her child was missing, and her skirt was hand stitched, patched in some spots.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to calm down." The officer said.

"Don't tell him to calm down! There's a child missing, and so far, you've done jack shit!!" Wade pipes up, stepping forward and pointing a finger at his nose, actually touching it, only for his hand to be slapped away.

"We've tried tracking her down but..." he starts as the mother sobs into her apron.

"Buuuuttt??" The bald man in 2 different hats questioned, not ready to freeze his ass off for this, but he would want someone to do this if his daughter was missing.

Oh.. those were the days. Logan and him arguing over parenting choices, having dinner together, sleeping soundly at night knowing their family was happy and healthy. But now they were empty nesters.

Heh. That must have been the best 20 years of Wade's life. The only good thing about this is that his daughter having his genetics, so she could stay 16 forever if she really wanted too. Each time she died she regenerated back into that mouthy little girl, though it was odd to watch a 25 year old woman turn into a 16 year old again, especially when remembering that she's 21+ by now.

'No way, young lady, you can't drink your underage!!'

'Dad, i'm 25...'

Man... they grew up so fast.. And they were so proud of all of them. Even the adopted ones along the way like that little rascal Leo who apprently was doing quite well for himself now that he was all grown up. Poor guy ended up having a hairy back and a mane so large that it almost mirrored Sabertooths... so much for being a 'late bloomer'

The sweet thoughts go away when the man gestures to three dead rabbits next to them on the side of the road. "The dogs keep going after our suspects.."

"Woah, Hold on a second. You're having a problem with your highly trained shepherd dog's prey drive so you got THE WOLVERINE?? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard and I once googled if I could put a fork in my toaster because half my toaster strudel fell out instead of just unplugging it!" He shouts, arms going up. "Who's in charge of this operation!?"

"You didn't find that out before agreeing to come!?" Logan growls at him only for Wade to roll his eyes. "Oh, calm your knot, Jacob. I didn't know our helpless little girl was actually a single rabbit lost in a forest wonderland!"

Logans brows furrow with that 'Who the fuck is Jacob?' Look, his face showing more confusion then anger now.

"Alright. So here's what we're gonna do." Wade starts.

"Yeah, No. You already ruined your chances at this, it's my turn. You litsen to me, now!" He says, making Wade's hands go up. "Ooh~ Yes sir."

"Shut up!"

"Ok-"

"I'm taking this. I need a coms, give me a couple of hours and a med kit. The kid might be injured, so I might have to fix'em up before carrying them back here. They'll be weak, so maybe some food too. What does she like? Actually, never mind, get me the file." Grabbing the clothing, he decided it would be better to

"OOh fuck- I'm so wet right now." Wade mutters under his breath, getting a 'what the fuck' glance from the officer.

____

By the time Logan collected all that he needed to leave, Wade (of course) was strapped.

"I told you not to bring those. If anything, the gun powder will scare her, and she'll run off." Logan muttered.

"You never know when you'll need to shoot something, Loagie. Besides, I have flares too. And the snacks." He says, opening the bag as they walked, rummaging through it. "Why is there so much deer jerky in here?"

"I like deer jerky." He grumbles, slightly annoyed as the air was pricking his nose.

"I know that but is that the only thing they packed?? Aren't rabbits herbivores?" He says, still looking with a frown. Maybe he should have taken Ro up on that soup...

Not to mention, while he had one idiot in his ear, he had another in the other one.

'Logan, you should be coming up to where-'

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I can smell it." Glancing over, he saw that the puddle of blood from the other rabbit half way already covered with a new layer of pure white.

Squinting, he breathed slowly and smelled deep.

"There's a storm coming.." he says over the mic.

'We know, that's why this is so important.'

"Wait a second, you sent kurt out here KNOWING there was a storm rolling in!? And then you dragged me out here knowing damn well I've never stepped foot in these woods!?"

'He volunteered, and we called you first. You just refused to pick up. And yes you have, you have a cabin somewhere out here.'

"No I don't!"

'Other Logan did.' Scott mutters.

"How many times to I have to fucking tell you that I don't have his memories!? You sent me into unknow-"

His nose twitches, stopping as he got a whiff.

"Oh, he's got something. Whatcha smell boy? Show me!" Wade coes, giggling a bit as he pats his knees, causing Logan to growl, blushing, embarrassed at the puppy talk.

Walking off, he changes direction, leaving the premade path of boot tracks and paw prints.

'What are you doing? Stay on the path!... Logan? Logan! Now is not the time to go all lone wolf! Loga-'

The Wolverine gives a snarl of annoyance, trying to both pinpoint and smell with the nagging in his ear. Taking the head set off and turned, dropping it in Wade's hands, who made a 'Oooh!' Sound, putting it on instead with a big smirk.

"Hiya! You're on air with us at red and yellow radio station! What's your question caller?"

'What? Wade! Give it back to Logan! If he goes off track, we won't be able to-'

"Aht, i'm gonna have to cut you off, caller, This is our mission, our gig. Don't worry, I won't lose the big guy. Right now, he's looking at a tree. And now hes sniffing. Oh now he's glaring at me, and now hes-"

"Wade!! Hush!"

"Sorry caller, gotta go-"

'Wade? Deadpool? Wade!! Don't you dare go rouge! Wade!!!'

Thinking about old Worst Wolverine being called by each of the X men individually after they have a falling out because Logan injured a child very badly to the point the only reason they didn't die is because another classmates healing abilities all while he just... walked away.

Well- ran.. away... leaving a child to die. He's tried to explain thousands of times that he blacked out, that he didn't remember doing any of this. He tries to say that maybe it was someone else, that mystique did this shit all the time in his universe.

"Yeah, well!? This isn't your universe! Because the REAL Logan would never do this.." Scott screams at him as Logan leaves the Mansion for the last time. He doesn't come back. He didn't even get to tell his Xkits goodbye. It got to the point where Laura dropped out, taking Gabby with her, wanting nothing to do with the school anymore.

So now, here he is. In Maine, an old fisherman, part-time hunter, and the only people he lets around him have healing factors.

He lives with Wade, who still- by the way- doesn't have any grey hairs (maybe because hes bald but- yk)

One night, while Logan is out, making himself feel useful by feeding the small town they're in, providing for more poor families, feeding their children's hungry mouths and asking nothing in return but respect. (It gets to the point that the children cheer when they see Logan, wanting to hug him, but he growls at them to get off, too afraid of hurting them) Wade finally awnsers the ringing phone.

"What." There's vemon in his tone, but soon his eyes widden, and he frowns.

Walking outside he stands there a moment, knowing Logan can hear him.

He ignores him, looking at the fish, litsening, his breathing slowing as he skewers some with his claws. Its not exactly spear fishing but- close.

"What?" His voice is almost annoyed, as if knowing what his long time Husband was about to ask him.

"Logan.."

"No."

"Logan-"

He shakes his head. "Don't care."

"...She's missing."

He pauses, turning after scraping the dead fish into a bucket. "Who's missing?"

"There's a little girl missing."

"So?"

"Logan!"

"I'm not helping them, Wade. That's final." He growls.

For a moment, Wade frowns, but he didn't learn to obey thy husband like the bible said.

He never did.

"Logan, there's a 6 year old out there. All alone. Cold. Probably going to be eaten by wolves!" He shouts from the back porch, knowing his place enough to stay here and not come near his fish. Even after all these years, Logan was still finicky over his food. "And all because some old fart won't help her!"

The silence thickened as Logan thought about it, the hero side of his brain yelling 'We'll find her!' And the hurt old part of him saying 'That's not my buisness.'

".. You find her then." He compromises.

"I can't! And if anyone knows those Canadian woods, it's you! You said you knew those forests like the back of your hand!" Wade protests. "If I could smell someone through miles of freezing snow, I would. But I can't. So here I am, asking The Wolverine to go do what he does best."

He grunts, glaring. "And that is?"

"Helping a little girl get back to her mommy..." Wade says, knowing that he was sold. He knew he was sold the moment he told him to do it himself. "She doesn't have much time, Logan." He sighs, putting a cherry on top.

The greyed man huffed, grumbling under his breath for a moment. "Who will stay here with the dog?"

"Gabby can! She loves gabs." Gott'em.

"What about Laura? Why can't she find her?"

Shit.

"Logan, Laura has barley been in those woods. You've lived in them for years. So. What will it be. Pull up your panties and go save a little girls life? Or do it anyway when our baby girl gets lost too?"

Logan scoffs, disappointed. "..She wouldn't get lost.."

"She would if the scent kept being blown away.."

Wade adds, seeing the 'god damn it, he's right.' look on the old mans brow.

He lets out a large sigh. "...I don't want any help."

"Oh well too fucking bad bucko, I'm gonna go pack my snow suit!"

"No! I mean... I don’t want any help from THEM.."

"No promises. I'm not letting poor Susie die just because you have a grudge. Now put your fish in the freezer and lets go! They're coming to pick us up-"

"I ain't flying!!" Logan snarls, watching as his lover ran off, having a deep feeling that he would be in the air shortly..

[aryesdanger24]

I'm done with comparisons here.

I need everyone to understand right here and right now.

Everyone had a good ending that befitted their character arc!

Spoilers below for the ending of Season 2 of Arcane, be advised.

We can be mad about Jayvik dying and not getting an absolute confirmation (though some may argue it is pretty clear) .

Some can be mad that there wasn't enough verbally said to add that romantic nature to CaitVi (once again, some may believe they have done more than enough)

IT ISNT A CONTEST!

I personally we are fortunate to have an ending that truly feels complete in some way. It was a good ending overall for everyone expectation wise.

Most of the time we get a physical show of love to confirm anything gay whereas lesbians often say some soft confirmation of love to be 'official' but this gave what media needed.

Lesbians showing a very physical and verbal show of their love while men are having their soft confirmation through verbalizing their love.

It's wonderful, even if you are unsatisfied by the ending for your ship (if you have one) that's why we have fanfiction, to explore what could have been.

You got a problem with the finale, write a what-if spinoff or write how it should have ended or what happened after the official ending.

Stop comparing Jayvik, CaitVi, and Time bomb. It's a waste of your time when you could be writing what you wished would happen in fanfic.

Be happy that the ending is something you can work with, be happy the possibility exists with a solid world built to utilize.

Heck, don't like the world? Build an AU (alternate universe) for them! Make them coffee shop owners, have them be military personnel, make them crazy European tourists!

Do something constructive and add to your Fandom instead of tearing down someone else's.

Getting mad at someone else's ship or flaunting about your own having a better ending is a waste of time and just literally detrimental to the show itself. Respect Arcane and what it was able to accomplish without push back, it is able to walk firmly because previous shows and their small steps.

So, in short, behave yourself. This may be the internet but your words stay forever. Don't try to bolster the status of your ship by pulling down someone else's.

If you feel called out by this, evaluate your recent behavior.

If you feel offended by this, really think about why you feel this way, because it probably isn't because of my language.

Yes yes, I know comparing shows is how we understand and make progress, but I am specifically talking about unhelpful dissertations or memes that specify a ship.

It's fine to write a logical explanation of why you prefer a different ship. It's absolutely fine to explain how something could have been better or evaluate the show and what it has done and could do better.

What's not fine is bashing it because your ship didn't have what you deem a good ending.

Not all people have good endings, not all characters will achieve their good ending despite how good they may be. That's simply the truth of reality and sometimes an author wants their story to mirror their idea of truth.

Respect the show and the work people put in it, and respect that someone else's joy does not deserve your anger just out spite.

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 15

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Scar's pov*

Cub has called you... He said it was something really important so you did your best to make it as fast as you could...... He hasn't really been very happy with you after the Mother Spore incident so you didn't expect him to be the one to ask to see you... You are a bit nervous...

Wait! What if he's quitting?!? You could never manage to do your work without his help! You'll have to beg! You will do it if that is what it takes.

You sigh ...Here goes nothing.

"Mayor Ren and Martyn have been taken hostage"

What? What does he mean they were taken hostage? Doesn't he have bodyguards to protect him??

"How? When? Where is he?"

"Oh he's still in his office"

Come again? What is Cub on about then?

"But you said he was-"

"Yes, it seems it is the office that's holding him hostage"

..."What?"

"Specifically, the mechanical door and windows have all been locked by an unknown attacker. The defense system has been turned into a threat on his life."

"Oh"

"We believe either an hacker or a villain with power over technology might be at fault."

You see, what you don't understand is why you were called for this. It feels suspicious.

"Do you want me to go after this hacker -"

"No. Not now at least. The mayor needs you to get him and his vice out of the building unharmed. The defenses he installed are quite dangerous when made into weapons so be careful"

"Am...am I going to work alone then?"

"Yes. Ocean Queen water manipulation could backfire around so much electronics and the building is too cramped for Sheriff's wings."

You think you understand, you nod at him, he looks at you.

"I'm ready"

"And don't stay out too long"

Cub wasn't kidding, as you dodge a literal laser you wonder just how paranoid the mayor must have been when he set up this defense system... This is a level of security you would think to find in a super secret governent base, not the mayor's office.

You don't have much time to wonder though as another laser almost hits you in the face and w- IS THAT A MACHINE GUN!?!?

You sigh as you take out one of your explosive arrows, you'll have to fight fire with fire if you want to get anywhere... hopefully the mayor won't mind a bit of property damage.

You really don't want a lawsuit right now by the mayor...or exile! Wait could the mayor even exile you if he wanted?

... You should ask Cub later.

*Martyn's pov*

You have been trapped in this office with Ren for what feels like hour now... It might have been, It's not like you can tell with the windows blacked and no clocks in the entire office... Why does Ren have literally 0 clocks in his office!?

Your thoughts are suddenly interrupted by Ren shouting in your ear.

"We are doomed Martyn! Doomed I tell you! I knew they were coming for me and now we are going to die here!"

Who was coming from him? This is news to you.

"I ... I'm sure they must have sent someone to save us Ren. You are still the mayor, pretty important guy if you ask me."

"Who knows how long that will take my dude, we might have to stay here to starve for days! We'll have to result to cannibalism to stay alive!"

Ok what, how have we got to this point.

"Woah there, how about we *don't* do that actually? How does that sound mate?"

"Right, right... I am sorry Martyn."

...You stare at eachother... Without his voice in the background things are weirdly akward... He's always seemed so confident, you have never seen him this worried before...You hold Ren's hand, he seems surprised for a moment.

"It's going to be alright, I'm here with you"

"Yeah... Yeah, you'll protect me!"

Uh... You don't remember saying that but telling him no would just be too cruel.

"Right, you can count on me Ren."

"Of course dude! I trust you more then I would trust myself!"

Ren's face is suddenly so close to yours, right in front of you. You didn't expect it so you scream and fall back.

"Ah??!"

"Oh sorry dude! I didn't mean to jump at you like that... I got excited"

"It's...it's fine Ren"

"Are you sure?"

You are staring into his eyes and he is staring into yours... It wouldn't be too hard to just lean in and-

"Hello people! Hotguy here to save the day! Is everyone ok?"

...Motherfucker.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?

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

Summary: All you wanted was for Ben to have a nice Thanksgiving, but when your daughter brings her new boyfriend over, all hell brakes loose! This one-shot takes place in You Call It Madness But I Call It Love universe! Reader is described as "Curvy."

Tropes: Fluff, Awkward Situation Over The Holidays, Bringing A Boyfriend Home For The First Time.

Word Count: 9.1K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing, Heated Kiss (a few), Sexual Innuendo, Implied Sex, Flirting, References to Sex (it happens quite a bit), Ben loves his wife, Ben REALLY loves his wife. Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). SOFT Soldier Boy. Soldier Boy might be a little OC.

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

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: Truthfully this is a lot of fluff and soft Ben, having a proper family Thanksgiving (well sort of). Really, just Ben showing how much he loves his wife... AND I had this completely unhinged idea forever ago, but everyone say thank you to @anna6307 for reminding me to write it. ❤️

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Soldier Boy POV

Ben reaches out his arm to your side of the bed as he wakes up without opening his eyes, but his hand finds cold empty sheets instead of your soft warm body.

His eyes blink open, the light from the open windows at the foot of the bed brilliant as he looks out at the view of the backyard, seeing the peaks of the thick trees that point upwards to the sky and just a glimpse of the sea beyond, sparkling in the early morning light.

It was Thanksgiving, Ben's first since he came back from Russia and despite his numerous insistences that "it wasn't a big deal" you weren't listening to him.

Honestly, what was new? Ben thought to himself with a sigh.

Holidays for him were always bittersweet.

When he was a child and in his teen years he spent the holidays at the elegant parties your parents threw in your family home sneaking eggnog and sips of whiskey from the flask in his coat while the two of you avoided his plastered father, and while he was with you he had a good time, but it was the quiet that came when he went home to the cold shell of his father's house that left a chill behind.

Truthfully, Ben would have just stayed at the boarding schools during the holidays if he hadn't been so eager to get back to you. He liked going to your family's parties, liked standing next to you and taking the brunt of your mother's disapproving glances. When he wasn't there he knew that she turned those looks on you and knew that she was less likely to make a comment about how you looked when he was a worthy target, and he was more than happy to take it, if it meant that he would get to see you smile and enjoy yourself.

Ben didn't care much for holidays, hadn't since his mother died, but he knew how much you loved them and he knew that you had sacrificed that love for them when you came with him to become a supe.

Your mother had banned you from your home the minute you told her that you weren't going to marry Howard and that you were going with Ben, and despite your father's insistences, your mother refused to let you return for Thanksgiving and for Christmas. Which meant that you were left with nowhere to celebrate and nowhere to go for the holidays you loved so much.

Ben did everything he could to make sure that the two of you celebrated in your own way. The early Thanksgivings were spent eating turkey sandwiches in Central Park, while Ben tried his upmost to make you smile, but the later ones were spent at the lavish parties that Legend threw. And no matter how many women tried to pull Ben away from you, he stayed beside you making sure that you were having a good time, but even at those parties you never seemed as happy as you had when you were back home in Philadelphia or when it was just the two of you.

It always made a sick feeling settle in the pit of his stomach, because it made him believe that you regretted coming with him.

But today would be different.

It would be the first Thanksgiving that Ben had spent with you since he left. You told him that Rosemary, Lou, and you always spent the holidays in the house in Maine and Ben didn’t complain. He liked the house and he liked how happy you seemed there, how you seemed to leave any anxiety you had back in the city.

And despite all the other Thanksgivings the two of you had spent at Legend's blowouts soaked with booze, Ben saw that you were genuinely excited and happy this year to celebrate, and it made him feel like he'd done something right for once.

But of all the things that Ben had learned about you after he came back, the fact that you liked to cook and knew how was still astounding to him. Sure, he had some dated ideas about what women's roles were, but when you'd still been a supe with him in the past Ben hadn't seen you cook once. The only time you'd gone into the kitchen in the past was to make coffee.

And hearing that you were going to cook Thanksgiving dinner almost made Ben start to look for pigs flying around outside.

He and you had come to the house in the Maine countryside early to get everything set up while Rosemary, Lou, Ryan, and Rosemary's new boyfriend were coming today to stay for a week. Ryan's school didn't give him the full week off, and Rosemary's boyfriend was working up until Thanksgiving day.

Ben frowned when he thought about Rosemary bringing home a man with her for Thanksgiving. He already didn't like the thought that Rosemary was bringing some random guy around Lou that Ben didn't know anything about and despite Ben not being around for forty years, he didn’t like the thought of some creep dating his daughter. Ben might not have been a huge influence in Rosemary's life, but the thought that some asshole was just screwing around with her made Ben furious. He knew exactly what men wanted from women and like hell some dipshit was going to get it from his daughter.

When he told you that you'd kissed him on the cheek and told him that he was "being cute" and that Rosemary was old enough to make her own decisions. But at least you hadn't seemed too keen on meeting the guy either.

When Ben had asked you if you knew anything about Rosemary's boyfriend, you'd said that Rosemary hadn’t told you too much, wouldn't even tell you his name because she didn't want you to "stalk him" so all you knew was that he worked at Supe Affairs, and that he was nice. Lou had piped up and said that whoever this guy was brought by flowers for Rosie each time he showed up and always made sure to bring Lou a sunflower because he knew how much she liked them.

Ben had tried to get Lou to tell him who this guy was or at least what his name was by bargaining with ice cream, but Lou had refused, said that she "made her mommy a promise" and that she "wasn't a snitch." Ben was proud of her for holding her ground like that and took her out for ice cream, but it didn't make him any less frustrated when he tried to figure out who it was that Rosie was bringing here for Thanksgiving.

Ben was racking his mind trying to remember a moment that he would have seen her and her boyfriend together at work, but Ben hadn't seen Rosemary talking to anyone new at the office, just the team.

Not to mention, Ben didn't want to be trapped in the house with the guy, listening to him rail Ben's daughter. There were moments where Ben wished he didn't have supe hearing, and that certainly seemed like a moment he wouldn't want it.

Rosemary felt the same way of course. She also had supe hearing and had woken up in the middle of the night the last time she stayed with Ben and you at the Maine house and had witnessed something that she said was "grotesque." Personally, Ben was no longer embarrassed about that kind of thing, not to mention he liked how loud you were and how loud he could make you, but you certainly hadn't been able to look your daughter in the eye for a week when you realized exactly what she'd heard.

And then you had made the rule of no sex while Rosemary was around.

Ben hated that rule and it was difficult for him. He didn't like going too long without touching you, not to mention he liked it immensely when you touched him, so last night Ben had tried to get it all out of his system and give you a little bit of stress relief from all the meal prep and cleaning. He hated seeing you so stressed.

Of course the rule also meant that Ben could tease you as long as he wanted to. And that usually lead to you dragging him out to the car to run “errands,” when the two of you ended up parked a few miles away running errands in the front seat of his car.

The window was open, allowing the chill in the wind to creep through the opening, the leaves on the trees beyond were burnished gold, red, and orange, and Ben could hear the crashing of the waves along the rocky shore.

He enjoyed being here as much as you did. Walking along the shore holding your hand, barefoot while the waves lapped at his feet, sitting on the couch in the den with you in his lap listening to music, watching you paint in the screened in back porch that you'd turned into your studio while he read his newspaper, and falling asleep with his body curled protectively around yours pressing kisses into your bare shoulder as you drifted off with a soft smile, holding on tight to the arm that was wrapped around your waist. He didn't think that his life would ever look like this, sure he'd thought about what it would look like to be with you, but he didn't know how he'd gotten it and he wouldn't trade it for the world.

Ben turns his gaze to your side of the bed to confirm what he already knew, that you're not there and he sighed.

Ben didn't like waking up without you, he also hated going to sleep without you, but waking up in an empty bed only made him think of all the mornings that he spent away from you, the mornings when he was away on a film shoot and to remedy how much he missed you he called just to hear your voice, other mornings when he'd wake up to a cold bed after whoever he'd slept with had left, and other mornings from his youth where he was away at another boarding school and he missed the weight of your body next to his.

Usually as you slept, you would subconsciously curl into him, and he would wake up with you on his chest, your head over his heart, your left arm curved over his torso to hold him closer to you. He liked that, because even if you woke up before him you didn't move. Instead you would stay there, pressing a kiss over his heart, running your hand up to stroke his cheek, or push his hair back because you know how much he likes it. It was a nice way to wake up.

With you there, smiling at him, looking at him as if he's all you see, as if you can see through him, through bones and flesh into his soul. And you never look away no matter how much you see. You accept him as he is, all the parts that Ben worked so hard to hide from the rest of the world like his father taught him, the other parts that he isn't proud of, and yet you love him.

You'd worn many titles over the years. His best friend, his teammate, the woman he loves, and now his wife. And at every stage, every ascension to a new name place, Ben still didn't deserve you and everything you did for him.

He never had and he knew that he never will. He'd never met someone so happy to love him, so eager to give him all of you even after all the shit he'd done to you, and so excited to spend the rest of your life with him. Ben's eyes drop to the ring on his left hand and he smiles to himself. It had been three months since the two of you stood in front of a small group of people, you radiant in white and holding a bouquet of lavender listening to him make a promise to love you and protect you for as long as he lived and him listening to you promise the same thing. It was the one thing the two of you should have done ages ago, but all Ben cared about was that he had you, that he wasn't going to lose you ever again, and that you were his and wanted to be his for the rest of your life.

And he couldn't have been happier. Ben had never been this happy in his entire life and he knew that it had everything to do with you.

Funny, if someone had asked him in the past if he was happy he would have said yes without hesitation, but now he knew that he wasn't. This was happiness, being with you, spending the rest of his life making up for the past, making you smile, and feeling the unconditional love you had for him each day as you eased any worries he had about expressing too much, when he'd spent his life expressing the bare minimum of emotions that he usually locked away.

But waking up in bed without you made him unhappy.

He frowned and sat up, the blankets falling away from his bare chest with the movement as he looks around the room for signs that you were there, but the bathroom door stands ajar and the bedroom door is cracked open.

Ben focuses his hearing and hears you downstairs banging around in the kitchen. He sighs again.

How long has she been down there?

He thinks with a groan getting out of bed and trying to find his sweatpants. Ben wasn't sure where you'd thrown them when you ripped them off of him last night, but after he finds them halfway under the dresser he makes his way downstairs. His fingers run through his hair, brushing it back away from his face, his bare feet padding down the hardwood stairs.

The smell of turkey, fresh bread, cinnamon, and cloves wafted up the staircase and there was a warmth in the large open kitchen that came from the oven and from the wide open bay windows above the sink where the rising sun bathed the room in a honeyed glow. Ben could see you swaying to music where you stood at the sink, trying to wash some of dishes that were stacked high over the lip of the marble countertops.

You had flour smudged on your right cheekbone, and stuffing in your hair that was tied back from your face with a bandana and you were wearing one of his oversized shirts and the pair jeans that Ben loved on you, the ones that hugged your curves just the right way to drive him crazy.

Truthfully, Ben was happy that you were getting more comfortable wearing things that actually showed your curves again, especially after all the years you'd spent being swaddled in monstrosities of lace, choked by shape-wear, and stuffed into clothes only created to hide the curves that drove Ben mad whenever he saw them. Even in your years as a supe, you'd been hesitant to wear anything form fitting, still feeling the cold disapproval of your mother almost decades after she'd been put in the ground. If anything Ben liked how curvy you were, he liked that you had just a little more that he could hold on to and squeeze.

And like hell Ben was going to let his wife feel insecure in her own body, especially in one that made him feel like he was a damn teenager again whenever he got his hands on you.

There were remnants of potato peels, bundled plastic wrap, and tops of carrots scattered like fallen leaves over the kitchen island. Not one piece of countertop was spared by the destruction of your preparation for Thanksgiving, only sweeping chaos left behind in your wake.

Ben expected that. Your art studio back at the apartment was the same way, and whenever he teased you about it, you'd only roll your eyes at him and say that "there was no point in a creative space without having a little chaos."

The speaker in the kitchen is blasting one of your favorites, "You're All I Need To Get By" by Aretha Franklin. Ben personally didn't like her work, thought that she catered more to a feminine audience, but he knew how much you loved her. He had taken you to a private concert once for one of your birthdays, sat through the entire thing trying not to  grimace, but each time he almost did, he'd look over at you and see how happy you were and he'd smile instead.

You were singing it to yourself, swaying your hips along with the melody in a way that reminded Ben of exactly what you'd done with them last night.

He couldn't understand how he got so lucky and again he wondered how he ended up here with you.

Ben leaned against the doorway to watch for a few minutes, trying not to make a face when you'd screech. You were never the best singer in the world and Ben had been subject to your singing more than once in all the time he'd known you, more often on nights when the two of you would go out for drinks at the bar down the street from your childhood home in Philadelphia. You would belt songs as loud as you could on the drunken walk home, wobbling on your feet, while Ben tried his best to keep you walking in a straight line and keep you steady to avoid you falling on your face and busting your lip open on the curb.

He steps forward into the room, creeping up behind you, reaching out to grab you when-

"If you're trying to scare me that's not going to work." You say, scrubbing at one of the stainless steel bowls in your hand with a scrub brush.

Ben snorts and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. You smelled like him again. "Didn't think you'd be able to hear me over the screeching."

"What screeching?"

"You trying to sing."

"I don't think you're exactly Frank Sinatra."

"Fuck, I miss that bastard. And the Rat Pack, we had some good times-"

"Yes. I remember something about you destroying a suite in Vegas and me sweet talking a cop to get you out of it." You hesitate, pulling your hands out from under the warm water. "Sinatra was quite the charmer, voice like velvet, not too bad looking and-"

"Just like me."

You laugh and lean back into his embrace, while Ben begins to sway you to the music. "I'm not too sure about that."

"Hmm." Ben sighs into your shoulder. "Why weren't you in bed when I woke up?"

"I'm sorry." You turn to kiss him on his bearded cheek, lingering for a minute longer in a way that makes Ben feel his heart thud an extra beat.

"What time did you get up?"

"5."

"Why the fuck have you been up for six hours?"

"Because I had to start cooking."

Ben can see the anxiety thrumming beneath your skin, settling over your shoulders, at the thought of how much you had to do. He didn't like it so he began to press his lips along the slope of your neck, feeling you sigh and relax in his arms as he pulls you closer against his body.

Fuck, you felt good.

You were always warm and soft in all the places that Ben was muscular and hard. You always fit so perfectly against him, in a way that made Ben refuse to believe that anyone else did. You were his in every possible way, had been his in every way since you were kids even if he was too afraid to admit it.

"I had to chop the carrots, boil the potatoes, make the pumpkin pie, stuff the turkey-" You continue with a sigh.

"You've been talking about stuffing that damn turkey for two days. Why don't you let me stuff something for a change?" Ben murmured, beginning to kiss down your throat, and moving his hands that were on your waist up under the oversized shirt you were wearing, trailing over your warm skin.

"You're a disgusting old man." You groan, but Ben can hear the smile in your voice without opening his eyes.

"You knew that when you married me Sweetheart." Ben smirks.

"Unfortunately."

"I think it's what you love most about me."

"No, I'm pretty sure it's how humble you are." You laugh at your joke and Ben squeezes you in response.

Ben moves his hand higher underneath your shirt stopping just below your bra, nibbling on your earlobe. "Come on Sweetheart, I want to have you one more time before Rosemary shows up."

"Ben-" You groan, your hands braced against the counter he'd pinned you against. "I can't I still have to-"

"By the time you finish arguing we could already be getting to the fun part."

You smirk at him over your shoulder. "Maybe I think the arguing is the fun part."

"Oh really?" Ben feels his smirk grow and this time he doesn't stop his hand from reaching past the edge of your bra and you gasp softly.

Ben couldn't get enough of the way you responded to him when he touched you, the sounds you made into his mouth when he made love to you, the little gasps, cries, and moans of his name that he replayed for himself whenever he was away on a mission and the ones he loved to recreate when he returned home to you. "Are you saying that you didn't have fun at all yesterday? Or last night?"

"No-" You say, trying to keep your voice even, but Ben can feel the tremor that courses through your body when the memory of what the two of you did comes roaring back.

"You're lying." He breathes into your throat. "You know I can tell when you lie."

"Ben really-"

Ben fits his lips over your mouth,  swallowing whatever excuse you were going to say whole. “As much as I like you in my clothes, I think it’s time you take this off.” He tugs at the bottom of your shirt.

"Ben I've still got to-" You try again, but this time Ben begins to suck a mark just under your jawline, next to the other one he left last night.

He liked doing that, as if the ring on your finger wasn't enough, Ben felt a primal urge to mark you so anyone who sees you knew that you were taken, and that you were his. He also knew that you liked it too. He could practically taste how much you wanted him against your lips, could feel it buzzing through your skin everywhere he was touching you. Ben loved that after all these years, he still had the same effect on you.

You sigh, reaching back to tangle your still wet hand in his hair. "You're fighting dirty." You say in a pout.

"By now you should know it’s the only way I know how sweetheart." Ben laughs against your skin, and he can feel your resolve begin to waver.

You groan again, tightening your hands in his hair and pushing your body back against his chest as his hands roam over the curves he loves so much.  "Fine." You mutter in utter defeat. "You get ten minutes, but if anything burns, Benjamin I swear I'm going to divorce you."

"I'd only convince you to marry me again doll." Ben chuckles. "And I only need 7."

*Exactly 27 minutes later*

Reader POV

"I'm going to get the divorce papers as soon as I take this turkey out of the oven! You said 7 minutes Benjamin!" You shout reaching for the oven mitts that you left haphazardly on the counter before Ben dragged you back to the bedroom.

Well, dragged is a relative term given how he carried you up the stairs with your mouth locked with his and your hands tangling in his hair.  And you might have complained about how long the two of you were upstairs, but you don't think that you would ever complain about anything Ben did to you.

You couldn't. Not when you still couldn't quite feel your legs and could feel your heartbeat thudding hard against your ribcage while you tried to catch your breath.

You take a step on shaky legs towards the oven, but Ben intercepts. "Let me do that doll." He gives you a knowing smirk that makes you weak in the knees. "Wouldn't want you to drop it."

"I hate you." You mutter under his breath when Ben reaches in to pull out the turkey, not bothering to put the over mitts on. You didn't need them either, but you liked using the oven mitts, they made you feel normal.

"I love you too sweetheart." He winks as he puts the turkey on top of the crowded stove. "Looks good."

"I love how surprised you are that I can cook."

"You weren't exactly Julia Child before I went to Russia." He says surveying the different foil covered dishes on top of the stove.

"I had to learn how to cook after I had Rosemary, toddlers get kinda hangry if you don't feed them, but Melanie helped. Taught me everything I know. I owe her so much." You smile at the memory of the older woman who welcomed you into her home when you felt so lost after Ben broke your heart and was taken to Russia. The woman who was more of a mother to you than your own flesh and blood. It was Melanie who brought you back from the darkness that threatened to consume you in the wake of what Ben had yelled at you at the premiere after you walked in on him and Countess.

Something that you no longer stung as much as it had. Ben had made it up to you, and despite how many times you told him not to feel guilty over what had happened, and that you had forgiven him, he refused to stop making it up to you everyday. And you'd never been so happy in your entire life.

"I do too." Ben murmurs pulling you close to him again and dragging his fingers over the plains of your face to push back your hair.

You knew that he still felt guilty for not being there when Rosemary was a kid, but you believed that the relationship that he was building with your daughter was making it better. Although it had a rocky start, Ben and Rosemary were getting along a lot better than they had been. You attributed that to how close they were working together, but you knew that Ben was becoming more optimistic about their relationship.

 "And why couldn't Rosemary help cook some of this shit? Why does it have to be just you?" Ben frowns.

“She’s bringing some things. I just didn’t want to make her bring too much because she’s got Ryan and Lou.”

“And that asshole.”

“We don’t know he’s an asshole.” You snort.

“He’s a guy.”

“You’re a guy, Ben.”

He frowns, and you couldn’t help but think that it was cute how protective he was acting. “So? He’s probably some pompous jerk.”

“It’s her life. And trust me, after everything that happened with Charlie, Rosemary is definitely making sure that  he’s not a creep.”

“But why won’t she tell us who the fuck he is?”

You press your lips together into a tight line. You’d also thought it was weird how close lipped Rosemary was being about the guy she’d been dating, but whenever you tried to bring him up she refused to talk about him. You didn’t understand why she was being so secretive, but the last time you'd asked her why she wouldn't tell you she said that she didn't want you to "scare him away."

Honestly, it's like she thinks I'm Ben or something. And I was nothing but supportive about Charlie and look what happened to him!

But you trusted her to make a good decision, figured that everything that happened with Charlie made her more wary about who she fell into bed with.

You fight the wave of nausea when you think about Rosemary having sex with her boyfriend.

Please let them not have sex in the house.

You think with a shudder.

The last thing you wanted to hear was Rosemary and her boyfriend having sex in the bedroom next to Ben and yours. It had been embarrassing enough when she heard Ben and you the last time, before you instituted the rule that Ben barely followed.

To be fair you hated that rule as much as he did.

 Of course, you knew they were sleeping together. Whenever she'd come home late from a date and practically floated into her apartment on nights Ben and you babysat, you could smell him all over her.

What was even weirder was that the smell was familiar, but you couldn’t place it.

But you liked seeing how happy she was, she deserved that after everything that happened with Charlie.

“I don’t know, she probably doesn’t want to say so you won’t show up and do whatever this is that you're doing." You reply.

"And what the fuck do you think I'm doing?"

You smile and pinch his cheek, making his frown deepen. "Being absolutely adorable."

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? You are. I love it that you're going full protective dad mode." You smile.

"Don't tempt me doll."

"Oh baby." Your smile turns more into a smirk, working your hands up his bare chest and feeling a groan vibrate through the palms of your hands. "We both know how much you love it."

Ben's eyes darken in a way that reminds you of exactly what the two of you had just been doing that almost resulted in the burning of the turkey.

You arch up to kiss him, but right before your lips touch his, you pull back. "Go get dressed. I'll be up in a bit to change before they get here-"

"I was going to wait for you to do that." Ben's eyes are still dark when you turn to the stove to find the meat thermometer.

"Why?" You ask leaning over the turkey to inspect it.

Ben pulls your body back into his. "Because I figure you're going to need a shower and I thought we might as well save some water."

"You're insatiable."

"Only for you sweetheart." Ben's lips press against your ear, the warmth of his breath making goosebumps skitter over your arms. "We both know how much you love it." He murmurs using your own words against you.

One of these days, he's going to make me spontaneously combust.

But you did love it. You loved every minute you spent with him, loved the way he looked at you, loved the way he touched you, and loved the way Ben made you feel loved. The way you imagined this life with Ben when you were younger, was nothing compared to the real thing.

"Give me thirty minutes." You whisper kissing him once more.

"I'll be waiting."

Reader POV

You fidget with the collar of the oversized black sweater, hoping that the edge is thick enough to cover the collection of marks on your neck that Ben left behind, while listening to the car come to a stop at the end of the long driveway outside the house.

Ben catches your hand to pull it away from the top of your sweater. "Why bother hiding it Sweetheart?" He purrs with a smirk, his dark hair still wet from the shower and hanging into green eyes that shine with mischief. Just as they did when you were kids, and even after all of these years, it still does the same thing to you. It still makes your heart beat an extra beat, still makes a warm tingle travel down your spine, and still makes your chest just a little tight.

"Because I'd like to not be covered in hickeys when I meet Rosemary's boyfriend for the first time."

He shrugs. "It's not like Rosemary doesn't know what we were doing before she showed up. He might as well learn early. And you never try to cover the marks you leave on me-"

"Because most of the ones I leave on you aren't as visible when you're wearing this many clothes." You roll your eyes, but give his hand a squeeze where it still holds yours. "And aren't I a little old to be having hickeys?"

"You're never too old for something like that doll." Ben leans down towards you, the mischief flickering into something else, morphing into the love that he'd shown you the minute he came back into your life. "Especially not when you keep me young."

"Well, you are older than me."

"Only by a few months."

"It makes all the difference. How does it feel to be old and rickety?"

Ben chuckles under his breath. "You didn't think I was old an rickety earlier."

The front door knob jiggles, stopping whatever you were going to respond with when Lou comes running into the room like a shot out of a cannon.

“Grandpa!” She crows and runs past you to leap into Ben’s arms.

As adorable as you thought it was how much that Lou loved Ben and how much Ben loved her, you couldn’t help but be a little bit jealous that Lou didn't say hi to you first. But the look on Ben's face when he hugs his granddaughter back makes all of that go away.

You remember how afraid you were to tell Ben about Lou and Rosemary, but each time you saw how genuinely happy Ben was to spend time with his granddaughter made your heart feel like it would burst. Because all you saw was the man you loved and the boy you grew up with. There wasn’t one shred of the persona Ben adopted as Soldier Boy and it made you love him more.

“Hey Louie.” Ben smiles picking up Lou so he’s not bending down. “How’s my favorite girl?”

“I missed you Ben!” Her little arms hug around his neck tight.

“Guess she didn’t miss me.” You mutter under your breath giving Ben a pointed look.

He only smirks at you over Lou’s shoulder.

“I missed you too grandma!” Lou says, her own supe hearing picking up what you whispered. “I just figured that Ben needs more hugs.”

“And why is that?” You laugh.

“Because you’ve been here longer and Ben has missed out on so many.” She reasons hugging Ben tighter.

The look in Ben's eyes when she says that shifts to something softer as he holds her close to him, hugging her back as tight as he dares. “Thank you honey.”

Ryan comes in next, holding a brown paper bag that must hold the sides that you asked Rosemary to bring with her, but she and her boyfriend still haven't made an appearance in the kitchen.

"Hey grandma. Happy Thanksgiving." Ryan smiles. "Where should I put this?"

"Just on the table is fine, but can I have a hug. I'm feeling a little left out." You joke throwing another glance at Ben and Lou.

Ryan hugs you half-heartedly. He was getting into his teen years, so things like hugs were always going to be a little awkward for a while, but you didn't care.

You liked that he was adjusting to his new life. He'd made a few friends at the school he attended, and Butcher would come by to make sure that Ryan was still doing his homework and to hang out with him.

You felt a little bad that Butcher would be spending Thanksgiving alone, you'd asked Ryan to invite him to come with them so Butcher could have a place to go, but Ryan had said that Butcher had "plans" and you'd missed the smile that Ryan hid when you turned away.

"Where's Rosemary?" You ask him when he pulls away.

"She's getting the bags."

"And you're not going to help her?" Ben raises an eyebrow at the teenager.

"But she's a supe-"

"That doesn't matter, go on." Ben nudges his head in the direction of the front door, a stern look on his face.

"But-"

"Don't argue with Ben." You say, gently pushing Ryan towards the door.

"Fine." Ryan mutters.

"I can help too Grandpa!" Lou cries, squirming so Ben knows that she wants to be put down.

"No sweetie." Ben puts her down, but she keeps a tight hold on his hand. "The only thing I want you to worry about is giving your grandma a hug."

Lou grabs on to you so tight that you're sure there's a bruise somewhere, but you don't care. You love your granddaughter even more than Ben, which was saying a lot, and Ben didn't need to know that.

I mean… he already knows.

"Happy Thanksgiving Grandma." Lou breathes.

"Happy Thanksgiving baby." You say, holding on to her.

You were happy to see your granddaughter, but you could feel the thrum of anxiety beneath your skin. You were a little nervous about meeting Rosemary's boyfriend. Maybe it was because you knew absolutely nothing about him, but for some reason it was making you more anxious than making a giant dinner for your entire family.

"Hey mom. Hey Ben. Happy Thanksgiving." Rosemary smiles at the two of you, holding a giant multicolored cornucopia of flowers. You'd told her that you wanted a centerpiece and despite being an artist for most of your life, Rosemary was better at merging together different flowers and textures to create truly awe-inspiring centerpieces.

You didn't know she did it, but each time she managed to surprise you with something that altered your brain chemistry.

"Happy Thanksgiving." You pull her in for a one armed hug. "Wow you've really outdone yourself with this one." Your eyes skate over the Sunflowers, red Daisies, orange Mums, and dark blue delphiniums in her other hand. There was a strong smell of cinnamon in the air, coming from the looped cinnamon sticks that she had woven in around the blooms.

"Thanks." She beams.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Ben asks, leaning against the counter. He'd be the picture of casual if you couldn't see the frown on his face, that he didn't even bother to hide.

"He's helping Ryan with the bags." She steps around you to move the centerpiece into the dining room, squeezing Ben on the arm as she walks past.

It makes you smile to yourself. Rosemary and Ben still had a long way to go before she was up for hugging him, but you could see that she was trying to get more used to him being around. You think that Ben marrying you helped. Not that Rosemary was old fashioned, but you think it solidified something in her head that Ben wasn't going anywhere and that he wasn't going to leave you again. You also think that Rosemary seeing the gentle way Ben was around Lou helped too, that Rosemary saw another side of him other than the side she'd seen in all those ridiculous movies, music videos, and pictures of Soldier Boy she'd seen growing up.

But you could also see the way it was making Ben feel better. When they first met he had been so discouraged by that way Rosemary treated him, but now when they spent time around one another you could see how happy Ben was and it warmed your heart.

You wanted Ben to feel like he belonged, it was his family too, not just yours. And every day you saw how Ben was starting to believe that more and more.

Ryan comes back into the room, loaded down with bags, but the man who comes in through the front door behind him isn't Rosemary's boyfriend, it's Billy Butcher.

He stops just inside the doorway, looking from you to Ben with an odd expression, as if he's not sure what to say.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Ben frowns at the man.

Ben barely tolerated Butcher, after missions he would come home and complain to you about something that Butcher ordered him to do. Personally you never thought that Butcher had Ben do anything that sounded like something Ben should complain about, but you knew that Ben had always had a problem following orders.

Weirder still was that Ben often said when he exploded on Butcher, it was Rosemary who would step in to try and calm Ben down. You didn't know why that was.

Honestly, you didn't hate Butcher, but you were wary of him. You thought he knew too much about your family and were often worried that he would sell all of you out for the right price. It did make you happy to see Ryan so happy with Butcher, but you weren't sure if you could trust him. He was one of the only people who knew what Lou could really do, one of the only people who knew what your power really was, and one of the only people who knew that Lou was the one who took down Homelander.

But at the same time you were happy that he was there. He was the closest connection that Ryan had to his mother, and you were glad that Ryan could have another person in his life who loved him. You'd seen what had happened with your own son and what happened to him when no one loved him. And you didn’t want that to happen to Ryan.

You elbow Ben hard in the stomach.

"What'd you do that for?" Ben asks.

Butcher clears his throat to say something, but you speak before he can.

"Please ignore Ben. I'm so glad you decided to join us. I was worried that you were just going to spend Thanksgiving holed up in your apartment. Ryan always talks about you when you're not here."

"Uh-" He clears his throat again and it's the first time that you’d ever heard him sound nervous.

You smile widely to make him feel more comfortable, taking his awkwardness as a reaction to what Ben said. "It's a good thing too, because I think I made way too much food."

"Right." Butcher clears his throat. "These are for you." He holds out a large bouquet of Lavender wrapped in crinkling brown paper towards you.

"Oh wow. Thanks." Surprise flits across your mind when you try to reason why Butcher brought you flowers, but you still take them. Ben seems to also consider this because, he frowns at the flowers as if he's debating whether or not to throw them away or if he should take it as a threat.

"Rose said they were your favorite." Butcher cracks an awkward smile.

The nickname makes you pause.

Rosemary hates it when anyone else other than us calls her by a nickname…

"And this is for you." Butcher holds out a bottle of whiskey towards Ben, who takes it, also confused by Butcher's sudden generosity.

"Thanks." Ben grunts, but he doesn't smile.

"You didn't have to bring us anything." You look down at the flowers, inhaling the fragrant blooms. "I mean, the invitation out here for Thanksgiving was not contingent upon gifts."

"I thought it was a good idea." Rosemary says, reentering the room with Lou following behind her. Butcher glances at her like a lifeline.

"Why?" You ask hesitantly.

A sick feeling begins to bubble in the pit of your stomach. You had a sneaking suspicion of where this was going, but you were still holding out for a miracle.

Ben looks past Butcher towards the front door of the house, looking for the boyfriend who was supposed to be getting the bags out of the car, but no one appears in the doorway. "How long does it take to get bags out of the car? Is your boyfriend hiding outside like a fucking pussy or something?"

Rosemary steps even closer to Butcher and this time she takes his hand.

Oh. My. Fuck.

"No. He's right here. Mom, Ben, You guys both know Will." She smiles up at him the same way that she used to smile at Charlie, when she was head over heels and nothing could drag her away. Her whole heart open and you can see the flicker of the same feeling reflected in Butcher's eyes when he glances at her.

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room, the awkward silence hanging over you all like a anvil choosing a target.

If Rosemary had come in here and announced that she was pregnant with an alien's baby you would have been less surprised than what she has just admitted. It was so far out in left field that you felt half-way to China. You had no idea how on earth this had happened or why it had happened.

There's a high pitched cracking noise, followed by an audible smash, as pieces of what was the whiskey bottle rain down from Ben's hand. He'd crushed the whole thing by just flexing his fingers.

"Surprise!" Lou grins ear to ear, swinging from Butcher's other hand, unable to read the room.

There's an awkward silence hovering over the room in the wake of their confession. Honestly, you're not sure what you’re feeling. Sure, you felt a little bit betrayed that Rosemary kept it from you for so long, but the feeling racing through your veins was unnamable.

"Lou go upstairs with Ryan." Ben growls in a low voice.

You had no idea how to respond to this. The only voice in your head was screaming "WHY HIM?"

Because really, why Billy Butcher?

"But-"

"Listen to Ben sweetie." You say in a tight voice, your eyes not leaving Butcher and Rosemary.

Rosemary's smile falters for a minute, as Lou goes up the stairs and no one speaks again until you hear her bedroom door close.

"No." Ben states calmly, wiping his hand with one of the dish towels.

"No, what?" Rosemary asks confused. She's still holding on to Butcher's hand, who looks as confused as she does.

"No. You're not allowed to date this British Fuck!" Ben shouts.

"Calm down mate-"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down!" He takes a step forward and you hold out your arm to stop him. The heat of his skin is burning through his clothes where your arm makes contact with the front of his shirt. "And get your hands off my fucking daughter!"

"You cannot tell me what to do Ben! I am a grown woman and-"

"I don't give a single fuck. You're not going to date this Son of a Bitch." Ben's eyes narrow, pointing with one finger.

"And I don't give a single fuck what you say! I'm forty years old and you don't get to tell me who I can and cannot date." She shouts back.

"I am your father-"

"You're just the guy who got my mom pregnant!"

"Hey!" You shout interrupting the retort that is about to come out of Ben's mouth. "We're not going back to that."

"But he's being absolutely-"

"Rosemary." You clear your throat, interrupting her. "How long?"

"I don’t see why that matters-"

"How long?" You say again, interrupting her.

"Four months." Rosemary replies.

Butcher still looks like he's unsure what to do or what to say.

"Four months…" You nod methodically, and then you lose your last shred of composure. "Four MOTHER FUCKING MONTHS?!" You shout. "Are you insane?"

"Mom-"

You hold up a hand. "No. No. You had your chance. You've been sneaking around with William Fucking Butcher for four months! Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because I knew you would react like this."

"React completely justified to finding out that you're dating the guy who has killed countless people and tortured others to-"

"Look who's talking!" Rosemary spits.

Ben's body goes taunt next to you and you can practically feel the air heat with the force of his anger.

"Don't you turn this around on Ben!" You snap. "We're not discussing him right now. We're discussing you and him." You make a wild gesture at Butcher who looks even more uncomfortable now that you've started shouting.

Probably was just expecting Ben to freak out.

"I don't care-"

"Well that appears to be seen." You sigh heavily and pinch the bridge of your nose, trying very hard to make the images of Butcher and your daughter rolling around in bed together dissipate.

They weren't and there were so many.

"I can't believe that you did this. That you're-" You can't even get the words out of your mouth.

"Will you just listen to me for one fucking minute?!" Rosemary screams over you.

"Don't talk to your mother like that!" Ben seethes.

"And don’t you talk to Rose like that you arrogant wanker!" Butcher mirrors taking a step forward.

"That's it!" Ben tries to step around you, but you shift to intercept.

"You're not going to kill him in my kitchen." You say to Ben.

"Thank you-" Rosemary begins to say.

"Let's take him outside and kill him there." You continue.

"Good idea sweetheart. Less mess." Ben agrees.

"No!" Rosemary is now standing between Ben, you, and Butcher, shielding him from the two of you. "I love him and I'm not going to let you touch him!"

Her words make you freeze.

Sure, Butcher was hot and sexy in a rugged unwashed sort of way but you'd never believe that Rosemary had fallen in love with him. You weren't even sure that Butcher was capable of falling in love with anyone else after everything that happened with his wife and yet here he was standing in your house, in your kitchen, holding on to your daughter's hand, looking into your daughter's eyes as if he had fallen for her.

Since Charlie, Rosemary hadn't been on one date, hadn't spoken about anyone or made a comment about someone that she met at work. Before Charlie, Rosemary had only had a handful of dates. He was her one big love, the one that she fell head over heels for, the one who swept her off her feet, and then shattered her heart.

You had not once seen Rosemary look as happy as she did in the years since Charlie, except on nights that she spent coming home from a date with Butcher. You wanted her to be happy, you wanted her to find the same love that Ben and you shared, you wanted her to find someone who understood her completely the way that Ben understood you.

"Mom." Rosemary breathes. "You once told me that love shouldn't be a burden or something that I'm ashamed of. That it's not prideful or selfish, it's about giving pieces of yourself to someone else and receiving pieces of them so the two of you become something wonderful together." She sighs. "I spent months pushing Will away because I didn't want what happened to me before with Charlie to happen again. I-"

Butcher's hand finds hers when he senses how upset she is, and the motion makes your throat thick, but you let her keep talking.

"I thought that I was in love with Charlie, that he loved me, but I wasn't. And when Ben came back I struggled for a long time to understand why you let him back in after everything that happened, after he said those things and did those things to you. But then I fell in love with Will and I understood." She looks at Butcher with a half-smile. "I love him. And sure maybe he annoys the shit out of me and maybe he has the maturity of a teenage boy and-"

"You're not exactly making me feel better love." Butcher murmurs.

"And maybe he's not the most patient man in the world." She snorts with a shake of her head. "But I love every part of him, even the parts that make me want to throw him out the window. And I understand now why you couldn't let Ben go. Because I'm not going to let Will go. And if the two of you hate that, then it's too damn bad. Because he's not going anywhere."

"I'm not." Butcher re-affirms. "Even if the two of you throw me out I'm going to keep coming back."

"Like a damn cockroach." Ben murmurs under his breath. He'd drifted closer to you, so close that you could feel the warmth of his body against your back, a comfort right now.

"Exactly." Butcher flashes a shit eating grin.

You can’t help but respect him for that. His confidence in the face of certain death was admirable, and you could see some of the traits that Rosemary found so lovable. In fact, you could see a few of them in the man you loved with all your heart.

The four of you stand in complete silence listening to the what she just confessed, her words still ringing in the air of the warm kitchen.

"Mommy can we come down yet?!" Lou shouts from upstairs.

It breaks through the awkward tension and makes you smile.

"Fine." You say after a minute, extending your hand towards Butcher.

He takes it surprised, his other arm wrapped around your daughter's waist.

You yank him forward. "But if you break her heart, I'm going to make you wish you were never born. Understand?" You smile as widely as you can, with Ben glowering over your shoulder for effect.

"Yes ma'am."

When they go upstairs to put the bags away you sigh heavily and lean back against the counter, your head spinning. Ben is almost deathly silent, watching the two of them go, with an unreadable expression.

"What?" You ask him.

"Nothing." He shrugs, his dark hair falling forward into his face. "Just thinking of all the ways I can kill him if he breaks her heart."

"Good. We can make a list together and compare notes."

"And just when I think I can't love you anymore, you go ahead and say something like that."

"It’s a gift." You snort, placing your hand over Ben's heart and looking into his green eyes. "Well, I wanted your first Thanksgiving back to be memorable, but I didn't expect it to be like this."

"Honestly, I thought that it would end in a fight."

"The day is still young."

"It wouldn't be a normal day for us without a few surprises."

"I hate to admit it, but you're right."

"Always am."

"No you're always full of sh-"

Ben pulls you in for a kiss, his hands curving up over your hips, thumbs brushing beneath the hem of your shirt against your skin. "Happy Thanksgiving Sweetheart." He murmurs into your mouth.

"Happy Thanksgiving Ben."

A/N: Again, just a little holiday fluff from the fam!

Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments, are not required, but are always appreciated! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series/universe, please let me know! 😊

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126 @simplyfixated @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444

@lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn

@lifeonawhim @liuope @brynanna @carpenterswife

@xxannyxx

@babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit @valryomen @cassieriddle713 @shaggzthatsnottheworm

@lil-soup @ej13928 @topstory21 @boywivlove

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@vivre-dans-la-nuit @megara0224 @daisy-the-quake @thesilmarillionblog @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@libby99hb @peachhiz @tinydancer40 @tinystarfishgalaxy

@jvanilly

@livya99 @lunaticgurly @i-am-typing @52ndstreeet

@anna6307

@pixviee @soldiergrimes @ladysparkles78 @ahoytothestorm

@octoazzy @modiddys-blog @marmie-noir @practicallylivesonline

@impala67stellawinchester

@everlove @dangerousgardenchild

[skeletboi]

InTRIdimensional AU part 27!

First /// Previous /// Next

----------

Stan smiled in response. “I'd like ta know you.” he said, scooting closer. “What's your name?”

“Axolotl above, you're kidding, right? My name's Cam. And you're Stanley, I'm guessing, considering the five fingers.” Cam said with a put-upon sigh.

Stan blanched for a second, but quickly composed himself and smiled again, opening his mouth to speak. Cam started talking before he could.

“Your brother push you in the portal and you're trying to get back, or did he side with the Euclidian?” They asked, tilting their head in mock curiosity.

“Side with-” Stan started, but got distracted when the door to the bar opened.

“Oh.” Cam said, finally cracking a smile as they watched Fiddleford and Ford enter the bar. “I've only seen this once before. That's actually interesting. Y'all really fucked up, huh?”

Stan glanced back at Cam and frowned. “Wait, what is that supposed to mean!?”

Cam smiled as Fiddleford and Ford came up behind Stan.

“Stanley, did you really find the only other person with a mullet in this bar?” Ford asked tiredly.

“Hey-” Stan started.

“Yes he did.” Cam said, cutting Stan off as they narrowed their eyes at Ford. “How'd you fuck up so bad that all three of you ended up here?”

“How did I- what? Do I know you?!” Ford asked, a mix of incredulousness and fear in his voice as he studied Cam's face.

“Nah. But I've had the misfortune of meeting a few different versions of you. I'm assuming, by the whole gang being here, that you didn't side with whatever Euclidian you had. Hope you killed him, or you're really fucked.” Cam responded nonchalantly as they sipped at their drink.

“Different versions of me?!” Ford asked, his eyes lighting up in excitement. “How curious! But, no, we didn't have the chance to kill him yet. I'm still reeling about how he betrayed me.”

“Damn, fresh out the womb, huh? Portal-womb, I mean. That sounds gross. Forget I said that.” Cam replied with a grimace.

“There are others of us?” Fiddleford asked, nervously tapping his foot as he glanced around the bar. “How do ya know them, then? And whadaya mean ‘misfortune’ of meeting a few versions?”

“A lot of the versions of Ford that I've met have been the type to side with the Euclydian. We run in the same circles, you could say. Though, there are some less psychopathic versions I've run into.” Cam replied, then smiled at Fiddleford. “I've met a version or two of you, as well, and Stanley. I'm usually a fan of you, Fidds. You're clever.”

Fiddleford frowned, not happy with that vague answer, and Cam laughed.

“Look, a bit of free advice- and I don't give that often, so count yourselves lucky or some shit- stay away from other versions of yourselves! Especially the Stanford that wears the blue visor glasses, and the Fiddleford and Stanford with the blue snake-like Euclydian that try to sell you bath bombs. They are all bad news.” Cam explained.

“But wouldn't talking to them help us get further in our goal of defeating Bill?” Ford asked.

“They'll kill you before you get the chance. Well, the blue visor guy will, the other's will probably ignore you if you ignore them. The other version of all three of you might be helpful, but they were about as lost as y’all are now last time I saw them.” Cam said thoughtfully.

“That ain't helpful, and what in tarnation is a bathbomb?” Fiddleford asked.

“It's like for baths… You know- nevermind. Just stay away from them. If you end up in a dimension with other versions of yourself, don't touch them. It’ll destroy both of you and the universe they're in. That's all the free advice you get. So don’t die out there. Or do. Fuck if I care.” Cam said, turning away and sitting on a bar stool.

“Wait- wait. You obviously know some shit, and you're just going to leave us to the wolves here?!” Stan asked.

“Don't take it too hard. I like the versions I've met of you, too Stanley- but I got shit to do, people to kill, etcetera. Figure it out for yourself. I'm not the one who made a deal with a demon.” Cam said, not bothering to look away from their nearly-empty drink.

“Didja jus’ say people ta kill?!” Fiddleford asked, sounding nervous all over again.

Cam just huffed out a laugh in response and downed the rest of their drink.

“Do you know how to kill Bill?!” Ford asked.

“A way for you to kill Bill? I don't know. I could probably kill him, he's like, a lesser god or whatever. You'd need some type of dimension disrupter? Or get him to go in your head and then die? I don't even know if that would work. Probably not.” Cam mumbled, half to themselves as they frowned down at their now empty drink.

“A lesser god?” Fiddleford asked at the same time Ford said “Dimensional Disrupter?”

“Yeah sure those things.” Cam said, waving down the bartender and asking for another drink in a language Fiddleford and Ford didn't understand.

Stan took the dimensional translator out of his pocket and gave it a cursory glance before sighing and sitting down on one of the bar stools next to Cam.

Cam glanced over at him and gave a half smile.

“Or, take a page from Stan and my book and just drink about it!” Cam said, glancing over their shoulder at Fidds and Ford as they lifted their newly filled drink.

Fidds and Ford glanced at each other with matching frowns.

“That don’ sound like a good plan.” Fiddleford said.

“Agreed.” Ford added.

“Did building an interdimensional portal for malevolent god-like trigonometry sound like a good plan? I don't think you're one to talk.” Cam said.

Stan laughed and fist bumped Cam.

“That's…” Ford started, then sighed, “Fair enough. Maybe one drink.” He finished, taking a seat on the other side of Cam.

Fiddleford sighed and sat next to him.

Stan took out the translator and used it to order a drink for Ford and Fiddleford.

“Translator. Good start.” Cam said.

“Not much of a start without knowing where these next rifts lead.” Ford mumbled.

“Here. I know where this one goes.” Cam said, taking a knife out of a a belt on their side and slicing the air in front of them.

Ford looked on in interested wonder as a small rift opened in front of them.

“Wow, do you have another one of those?” He asked excitedly, reaching his hand out towards the rift.

“Fuck no.” Cam said, swiping the blade back up and closing the rift. “Humans can't go through these rifts anyway, you'll disintegrate. They're my… personal rifts.”

“Are you not human?” Stan asked.

Cam sheathed the knife and lifted a hand, a small flower bloomed in their palm.

“Fascinating.” Ford said with an excited smile. “What are you?”

“That's a rude question.” Cam responded, flicking their fingers out, causing the flower to burn to ash in their palm.

“What… species are you?” Ford tried.

“No.” Cam responded.

“Not even a hint?” Ford said, his excited smile turning to a frown.

“Check my wanted posters. There's probably a hint there.” Cam replied, then downed the rest of their drink and stood.

“Wanted posters?” Stan asked, his eyes lighting up at the prospect in a eerily similar way to his twin's expression from just minutes before.

Cam just laughed as they set some alien coins on the bar, then walked towards the door.

“Good luck out there.” They said, taking the knife from their belt and separating it in two.

They turned, swiped both blades across the air, and walked through the rift the blades created.

Stan, Ford, and Fidds watched until the glow of the rift faded, then turned back to their drinks.

“What in god's name jus’ happened?” Fiddleford asked after a moment.

“I'm not sure.” Stan said, glancing towards the bartender, who was distracted by another patron at the end of the bar. “But we can't pay for these drinks without weird space money. So I hope they left a good tip.” He took the money Cam left and pocketed it.

“That don’ seem smart. That Cam person looked like they could kill us all in a second. Prolly not a good enemy to make.” Fiddleford said nervously.

“It's a big universe. Hopefully we never run into them again.” Ford said with a shrug. “Better the enemy you know, or something.”

“I can practic'ly hear my gam rollin’ in her grave.” Fiddleford said, burying his face in his hands.

“What did they say to the bartender, anyway, Stan? Right before you also sat down and ordered a drink?” Ford asked.

“They said ‘I'm going to need another to deal with this lot. Ax save them, they'll be here awhile.’ Whatever the fuck that means.” Stan said, taking out the translator again and putting it on his wrist. “Looks like I'll be needing this more, so might as well wear it.”

“I don't get why you weren't wearing it before.” Ford mumbled.

“There wasn't a lot of different language going on in farm land.” Stan said. “Didn't want to risk losing it in one of those boxes or some shit.”

“Makes sense ta me.” Fiddleford said, downing the rest of his drink with an ease that peaked Stan’s interest. “We should take ‘nother one of those rifts out there. I gotta find the supplies ta make more a those watches.”

“Agreed.” Ford said, leaving his drink mostly full as he stood.

Stan nodded, downed the rest of his own drink, and left one of the multiple coins he had taken on the bar. Ford watched him, but didn't comment. They would need some type of money, and wasting it here wasn't a great option.

They all got up and high tailed it out of the bar before the bartender got the chance to see how much they left.

-----------

Bye, Cam, it was fun!

Don't @ me, I love them. They're so sassy. I might actually bring them back for a minute later on, but for now they just get this cute little cameo.

Anyways, the other au's mentioned here are as follows:

@aeli-tan-art 's Overlords AU

@squatch-and-stretch 's Mystery Trio Through the Multiverse AU

And

@orxinus 's MM!Ford from... an AU I unfortunately forgot the name of.

If you haven't already, go check them out! I love them.

Thanks for reading!

The next part with be Cam's wanted poster because I do what I want- then there will be more of these three being ridiculous!

Edit: Cam's wanted poster here.

[aventurineswife]

Hello!! I saw your requests were open and was wondering if I could requests how the brothers would react to and treat an MC with chronic illnesses that cause them to need mobility aids like a cane, rollator and wheelchair to get around depending on how they feel (I mostly have to use a rollator and it's a pretty pink) but it also causes them to have dizzy spells really easily so they may have to randomly sit while out and about, leaves them with very little energy most days but they push through cause that's life but there's some days where the chronic fatigue and chronic pain keeps them bed ridden (and thus unable to attend RAD). I've been struggling for a year myself and I just really am turning to my boys for comfort. Even if you can't get to this or don't feel you can write for this I really appreciate just reading it! I'm excited to read more from you truly! Hope you have a good day!

“Rest Easy, Love, We've Got You”

Tags: Obey Me Brothers x Reader [Lucifer. x Reader, Mammon x Reader, Leviathan x Reader, Satan x Reader, Asmodeus x Reader, Beelzebub x Reader, Belphegor x Reader], Chronic Illness Representation, Disability Awareness, Mobility Aids, Fluff & Comfort, Slice of Life, Caregiving Dynamics, Emotional Support, Empathy.

Warnings: Contains themes of chronic illness, fatigue, and pain, Depictions of caring/supportive relationships, Mentions of mobility aids, Focus on emotional comfort and well-being.

A/N: First of all, thank you so much for your request! I really hope this piece brings you some comfort and makes you feel supported. I know that living with chronic illness can be really tough, but please remember that you’re strong, and you deserve all the care, love, and support in the world. I’m sending you so much warmth, and I truly hope you get well soon and take care of yourself! 🫂💖✨ Thank you again for sharing your request, and I’m wishing you nothing but health and happiness! 💖

Lucifer was never one to show his emotions easily, but seeing you struggle with something so beyond your control weighed heavily on him. His stoic demeanor often concealed the concern that lurked beneath.

When he first noticed you using a rollator, he didn't flinch. But the moment he saw the one you picked out, he couldn’t help but offer a small smile—a rare sight for the others, as if approving your choice.

"Let me know if you need assistance, MC." he'd offer, his voice calm and gentle. "You shouldn't feel the need to push yourself too hard." His eyes softened when you mentioned feeling dizzy or fatigued, a far cry from his usual commanding tone. He'd always make sure to walk beside you when you were out, offering his arm for support or using his influence to make sure no one bumped into you.

If you had to miss RAD for the day, he'd send you a tray of your favorite food, made with care. He'd also stop by with paperwork, though the way he would look at you was soft with understanding, as if telling you that his pride in you never wavered, even if you couldn't be there today.

"I don’t mind handling things here. Rest as you need."

Mammon, while initially unsure how to react to your condition, soon became your most fervent protector. He had a big heart, even if it was wrapped up in layers of greed and bravado. When you first mentioned you had a mobility aid, he was quick to say, "Oi, if anyone tries to mess with ya, you tell 'em I’ll handle it!"

He wasn’t always the most graceful about it, but his intentions were always pure. If he saw you sitting down because you were too dizzy, he'd immediately rush to your side, wrapping an arm around you to steady you.

"Ya don’t need to push yerself, ya know? Ye’re gonna hurt yourself!" he’d say, not fully understanding what it meant to push through chronic pain, but he’d do everything in his power to help.

He would try to pamper you on days you had to stay in bed, coming in with snacks, blankets, and random trinkets that he thought might cheer you up. "Ya deserve all the best stuff, so don’t feel bad about it!" he’d grumble, sitting by your side, even if he wasn’t the most delicate at times.

Leviathan was the type to do a lot of thinking and worrying in silence, so it took him some time to come to terms with how to best support you. His first instinct was to ask you if you needed help, but his anxiety often made him second-guess himself. He was nervous about saying the wrong thing, so he focused on actions rather than words.

One day, you were struggling to get from one place to another, and before you could even say a word, Levi appeared with your rollator, offering it to you with a shy but earnest smile. "I-I saw you needed this... I thought maybe this would make it easier...?" he’d say, voice awkward but full of sincerity. "Y-you don’t need to go anywhere by yourself! I can help... I can even carry your stuff if you want!"

His heart would ache every time you mentioned a day when the fatigue hit you hardest, and when you stayed in bed, he’d be there with games, movies, and all the comfort items he could think of. He'd worry about you endlessly, but it came from a place of deep care.

"Please, MC, take it easy... You don't have to do everything." he’d say, hoping you knew you could rely on him for anything you needed.

Satan was one of the few who could immediately grasp the depth of what you were going through. With his intelligence and empathy, he had no trouble understanding chronic pain and illness, as he had dealt with his own inner turmoil for years. When you talked about your mobility aids and dizziness, he listened intently and asked all the right questions to understand how he could be of help.

"Your well-being comes first." he’d remind you, offering his support without hesitation. If you were feeling fatigued, he wouldn’t insist on anything. Instead, he’d suggest the most calming ways to spend the day together, whether it was reading or simply relaxing by your side.

If you had to miss RAD, he'd make sure to bring something comforting—be it a book, tea, or a quiet space to rest. He was always gentle in his approach, never pushing you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with.

"I don’t mind handling things in your stead. Take care of yourself, MC." he’d say softly, his gaze full of respect.

Asmodeus was quick to fall into a protective role when it came to you. He absolutely adored your pink rollator, often calling it "fabulously cute" and making sure it was always in the best condition. He had a tendency to fuss over you, but it came from a place of deep love and care.

"Sweetie, you must be more careful! I can’t have you looking so tired all the time, can I?" He would go overboard on pampering you with lavish gifts, massages, and all the luxury his power could provide. His eyes would soften every time you told him how much energy it took just to get through the day, and his heart would ache for you on the days you were bedridden.

"You deserve nothing but the best, darling." he'd say, fluffing your pillows and pampering you with as much comfort as possible. He’d always remind you that he was there to help with anything—whether you needed someone to talk to, someone to hang out with, or just someone to make you smile.

Beelzebub’s approach was simple: he just wanted you to feel as comfortable as possible. He was incredibly perceptive when it came to your needs, and if he noticed you were struggling, he'd make sure to do whatever it took to help. He was quiet, but there was a deep tenderness to his actions.

If you needed to sit down because of dizziness, Beel would sit beside you without a word, making sure you had a safe space. He'd always keep an eye on your health, ensuring you had everything you needed, whether it was food, comfort, or just some time to rest.

He was also the type to sneak in with snacks or meals when you were bedridden, always making sure you were well-fed and comfortable. If you couldn’t attend RAD, he wouldn’t push you, simply reassuring you that he’d handle things and give you all the space you needed.

"Don’t worry about anything. Just rest." he’d say quietly, always the gentle giant, putting your needs above his own.

Belphegor, ever the laid-back one, wasn’t always the first to jump into action, but he was incredibly in tune with your emotions. He knew what it was like to struggle with energy, and while he’d never outwardly admit it, he had a quiet, empathetic understanding of your chronic fatigue.

On days when you couldn’t get out of bed, he’d quietly slip in, laying beside you, offering his warmth and presence as a comfort. If you needed a cane or rollator, he’d be there to grab it without question, lazily moving about the house to ensure you weren’t uncomfortable.

"Don’t worry. Take a nap," he’d whisper with a sleepy grin. "I’ll make sure the others don’t bother you."

Belphegor might not have been as vocal about his concern as some of the others, but his gentle actions showed his love and dedication. He’d take care of everything else while you rested, making sure you had one less thing to worry about.