#so i can just work 8 hours stage acting

[aimfor-theheart]

ik its good that i’m going to all these auditions and callbacks but oh my god cielo is Tired

[moonstruckme]

hiiiiiiiii mae <3 i have an idea for thawing out series. what about if reader has a 'moment' w one of them and the other boy gets slightly cranky bc of it but then is also confused bc he doesn't know if he wants r or the other boy.........and then EPIPHANY 😈

Thanks for your request! The mood of it got altered some but I hope you like it :)

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12

cw: modern au, chronic pain, some hurt w/o comfort but dw we'll fix it down the line

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2.6k words

“Pads!” Remus shouts across the ice. “Focus!”

Sirius’ cheeks pinken slightly as he tears his stare away from the Russian soloist practicing her quads. You laugh and say something to him that makes him pinch your waist meanly, as if you’ve been acting any better. 

You and Sirius are completely starstruck. Remus wants to be irritated at your distractibility, but it’s sort of adorable. You nearly fall on your bum watching the Austrian team run drills, Sirius is too busy eye-flirting with a Swedish skater to remember he’s supposed to be going into a turn, and you both stop your routine entirely when the Canadian duo steps out onto the ice. 

You and Sirius draw plenty of stares yourselves, though naturally only Sirius appears to notice. He shoots a wink at a skater admiring him and a glare at another looking too closely at you, his hand possessively on your lower back anytime you’re not running your routine. 

Altogether it means you have to spend a couple of extra hours learning to work through this specific brand of stage fright and running your drills again after you all get your heads turned multiple times, but Remus lets it slide. He remembers being just as dazzled during his first Olympics, seventeen years old and feeling like he’d somehow snuck into the hall of fame, an imposter among legends. 

Part of him hopes that the embarrassment of having to do a half-ass death spiral in front of so many professionals will make Sirius finally go all the way, but no such luck. He keeps you firmly above where you ought to be, expression impassive even as Remus can see you pleading with him with your eyes. Still, the rest of the routine goes well, and Remus tries not to let it get under his skin. He hopes you’re right and Sirius really will pull through in the final hour; your faith in your partner is absolute, and Remus finds it easy to put his faith in you. 

He lets you loose to spend the afternoon as you’d like, but it comes as no surprise when he sees you both on the ice again. Remus knows you’ve likely got plenty of nerves to work off. It’s one thing to compete in your home country, another entirely to represent your home country while competing amongst the best figure skaters in the world. He calls you off the ice before one of you can overexert yourselves and pull something. Sirius swears up and down that his ankle hasn’t bothered him since the day after he hurt it, and Remus hasn’t seen anything to make him suspect differently, but he knows better than to take risks with a healing injury. You spend the rest of the afternoon playing cards and gambling for candies in Sirius’ room. 

Eventually you disperse to go to bed. Remus’ hip has been bothering him since the flight the previous day, so he goes on a walk to stretch it out. It’s odd, he thinks, how easy things have come to feel between the three of you. When he first arrived, Remus had every intention of setting up strict professional boundaries, of knowing you only as your coach and seeing you only during practice times. And then you started practicing together, and it seemed like his boundaries wouldn’t even be necessary. Sirius hated him, and besides that the two of you existed in a bubble no one could penetrate, intimate and trusting only each other. Now, after learning about what your former coach did to you, Remus understands why that was necessary. You were protecting each other, safeguarding your partnership and your careers. It would have made sense for you to keep Remus at more than an arm’s length, taking his coaching with grains of salt and keeping him well away from your private lives. 

But then there have been days like today. Still bickering with Sirius, still watching the two of you interact with a familiarity only years of history can grant, but feeling warm and welcome despite it all. It feels easy, to tease Sirius and let him snipe back. To let you lean your shoulder into his and not move away. It feels good. 

Remus’ hip is feeling fairly good too by the time he gets back, sore from the exercise but not so stiff. As he makes his way to his room, passing Sirius’ and then yours on the way, he sees light sneaking through the crack underneath your door. 

He frowns. It’s late, and you’re meant to practice again early tomorrow morning, your last day of practice before you compete. You should be well rested. As he approaches your door, he hears sound coming from inside. Low, crackling voices, and a song that tugs at the fringes of his memory. Then a sound he knows too well, the shushing of skates on ice.

Remus knocks. The door is thin enough that he hears your little gasp and a quiet snap, and when you say “come in,” it sounds like a question. 

He suppresses a smile, opening your door cautiously in case you didn’t really mean it. 

You’re sitting on your bed, one hand atop your shut laptop. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” he says, leaning against the doorway. “It’s late.” 

“I know.” You look almost shy. Between that and the pajamas you have on, plaid little shorts and a bulky sweatshirt, Remus has the urge to pinch your chin between his fingers. “Sorry, I was just watching some, um…”

“Figure skating videos.” Your lips part, and he says, “I could hear them from outside.” 

“Oh.” You laugh. It’s a nice sound, one Remus can happily say he’s come to know well, but this one is woven through with nerves. “That’s embarrassing.” 

“Why is it embarrassing?” he asks honestly. “It’s normal to want to study your competition. And they’re fun, I still watch them all of the time.” 

“It’s not…” You give him a tentative look, then scoot over on your bed. “Do you want to see?” 

Remus can’t imagine you’re watching anything he hasn’t seen a million times, but he is curious which are your favorites. He’s careful to sit on top of your covers, a few inches between your leg and his. The bed doesn’t allow for anything more. 

“Fuck, did they really have to go back to making them out of cardboard?” 

That gets another nervous laugh out of you as you open your laptop screen, playing the video. And Remus knows then where he’s heard the music before. It’s his music. You’re watching his old routine, a niche one from a small competition back in Wales. Remus was fourteen when this was filmed. 

He glances at you, and you’re watching the video with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, the colors of the screen dancing across your eyes. 

“I’ve always admired how tight your form was,” you say. “You were so young, but it was obvious you were putting the work in.” 

“I practiced a lot,” Remus agrees. “Too much, really.” 

The nostalgia he feels for figure skating is bittersweet when he watches videos like this. He remembers spending all his time in the rink, every hour he wasn’t in school or at home, nothing spared for friends or hobbies. He did love it, but in loving it he forgot to build a life outside of it. Life was constant motion, training and competitions and awards whirling around him like the rink during a spin; by the time he had his accident anyone that might have been his friend had their own friends, and Remus realized he may have been lonely for years. 

“I’m really glad you agreed to coach us.” You’re still watching the video, young Remus doing a camel spin. “You’ve made us a lot better, both of us. I know Sirius is going to end up fixing the spiral, and I’m going to try my best, and…I really hope we can make you proud.” 

“You will,” Remus says, instead of you already do. It feels wrong to take any credit for how incredible you are, either one of you, but that is what he feels when he sees you out on the ice. Proud. He looks at you carefully. “You’ve seemed wound pretty tightly lately.” 

Your eyes drop, no longer looking at young Remus but not at the older one either. 

“It’s alright to be nervous,” he says gently, “so long as you know that you deserve to be here. You’re going to do great.” 

You rub your lips together. “Were you nervous during your Olympics? Is it okay for you to talk about?” 

“Yeah,” Remus says, a bit surprised, “it’s fine. I was nervous. I was…” he chuckles “I was freaking out, honestly. But when I got out there, it was really just like any rink. The music and the routine were the same, so I just let myself get lost in it. I almost forgot where I was until it was over, and people were waving flags at me and all that from the stands.” He feels his lips curve with the memory. Bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “It’s not so bad. Anyway, I think it’s got to be better to go through it with someone else. I was on my own, but you’ll have Sirius with you.” 

You give him a little sideways smile. “And you, right?” 

A fond warmth blooms in Remus’ chest. “And me.” 

“Has it been difficult for you to coach us?” you ask him tentatively. “I mean, to come back?” 

Remus takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” he says after a minute. “At first, it really was. I’m not proud of it, and I don’t think I really knew it at the time, but I was jealous of both of you. Anytime you did something differently than I would have, I got so frustrated that you were throwing away these opportunities I would kill to have again. It was easy to look at either one of you and wish I was in your place.” 

You’re nodding, not a trace of hurt or offense in your expression. You look at him like you understand. 

“But that stopped a long time ago,” he says. “After I worked with you for longer, it became clear you’re both very different skaters than I was.” You huff a laugh, and Remus nudges your shoulder admonishingly. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing. I think early on I wasn’t a very good coach to you because I couldn’t see your individual strengths. But now I think I can, and it’s really a privilege to watch you skate together. It’s lovely. And I’ve loved getting to know you and Sirius, too. So, yeah, it was difficult at first, but I’m really glad I came on. And I’m glad you were patient enough to let me stay.” 

That got a bit more earnest than he intended. Remus feels heat rise to his face, but you’re still nodding, thoughtful, like you’re trying to wrap your head around it. He sees you rub your lips together again. 

“I really want to do well,” you say softly, “but I’m not the skater Sirius is. I don’t have his natural talent, and I don’t flourish under pressure the way he does. I—that’s usually when I mess up.” Remus’ chest aches at the vulnerability in your voice, his hand moving unconsciously to cover yours on the bed. Some of the tension goes out of you at the touch. “I’ve tried my whole life to keep up with him, but I’m never quite there, and you guys, you’ve both been these incredible, talented skaters…” Your eyes meet his, timid and ashamed. “I’m afraid I’m going to let you both down.” 

“Are you kidding?” You drop your gaze, and a surprised little laugh trips off Remus’ tongue as he ducks his head to follow, holding your hand more securely. “I’m sorry, that was rash, but really. How can you think that? You’re one of the most talented skaters I’ve ever seen.” 

You’re still avoiding his gaze. He takes your chin in his hand, gentle, an encouragement more than anything, but you let him turn you towards him. 

“I don’t care how much of it comes from natural aptitude,” he says firmly. “You’re an incredible skater. Even when I didn’t know you at all, it was obvious that you care about this more than Sirius or I likely ever have. That’s important. You can see it in how hard you train, and in how you move on the ice.” Remus shakes his head, expelling a breath. “It’s mesmerizing. You’re beautiful to watch.” 

You’re not shying away from him now, but Remus doesn’t let go of you. Your expression is wide open, diffident but curious. He goes on.

“The way you skate, it’s not just about the motions or the art of it, it’s joyous. Anyone can see how happy you are out there. That’s what makes you so good. You really love it.” 

“You did, too,” you murmur. 

His voice softens in kind. “I did. But not the way you do.” 

Your eyes lower, but this time he allows you it. Remus is suddenly acutely aware of your leg where it's pressed up against his, of his own heartbeat. He’s still holding your hand. 

You wet your lips. “Do you really mean all that?” 

“Why would I give you a whole speech I didn’t believe?” 

You crack a smile. “Some coaches call it a pep talk.” 

“You’re beautiful to watch,” he says again, voice dropping to a murmur as he realizes you’re staring at his lips. He breathes in, and the distance between you lessens. “You’re beautiful.” 

Remus knows he’s judged you rightly when your hand comes around his waist, pressing into the softness of his jumper to glean an impression of the skin underneath. You kiss like you skate, with a sweet eagerness, ready to explore and wanting to learn. Your lips part, inspiring a similar parting in Remus, and you let out a breath with a soft humming sound. 

Remus' nerves are alight underneath your hand on his side. He angles his torso to get you closer, free hand coasting up your thigh. Your fingers bunch in his jumper, kisses picking up heat as he lets his hand settle at the small of your back, an echo of how Sirius touched you this morning when—

Sirius. 

Remus draws away from you so suddenly he hears you gasp. He still has your face in his hand, can feel the flustered warmth of it before he removes that too, putting distance between you. 

“Sorry.” His voice is hoarse. Guilt burns in the back of his throat. “Sorry, it’s not you. I just, I—”

Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. 

“I didn’t think that through.” He can feel his heartbeat in his mouth. Sirius is in love with you. Remus is only just starting to feel like a part of your team, but this could send you all back in time. Kissing one of his skaters, who the other is in love with? His stomach hurts. “I’m your coach, and you—we have a big competition coming up. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

He edges off your bed, looking at you while he does. Your lips are still parted, eyes wide. 

“It was a really shit idea,” he says, “and I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.” 

You rub your lips together. Remus feels it like you’re still moving them against his own. “It’s fine,” you say on a breath. “We can forget it.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he says again. 

“It’s okay.” You’re shaking your head, and he’s backing away, both of you like deer caught in headlights. “You’re right, it was silly. We’re professionals, we can get past it.” 

Remus feels himself nodding, feels the handle of your door in his hand. 

“Practice in the morning?” you ask weakly. 

He pushes out a breath as he opens the door. “Yeah. Six thirty.”

[notlhecxzsa]

Hidden Love - Scarlett Johansson

Warnings: Very very angsty (only in the start), very mean Scarlett (she gets better, I promise! little miss doesn't know how to handle her feelings ≧⁠▽⁠≦), death, very sad reader, almost drowning

Sum: How can a cold hearted CEO handle her newfound feelings towards one of her employees? Will it be wonderful or a disaster? (This is 8889 words, oh god)

CEO!Scarlett JohanssonXFem!Reader

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°

Y/n's POV:

"Don't worry, Ma. I'll try to send you more money than usual, just rest and do what the doctor's says, okay?" I said on the phone with gentle voice to my mother.

I only have my mother, and unfortunately, she was diagnosed with stage 3 cancer. I never knew my dad, and i didn't really grew up having everything i want, and well, need. My mother needed to work 24 hours, and only having a payment that is good for our 2 days food, but she's so strong and determined, that even that's our life situation, i managed to finish my school.

Now, im working, trying to work hard enough to have enough money to take my mother in a chemotherapy, i've been actually saving up for it, and for her operation, which is not really doing well.

She has so many supplements needed that is already half of my payment, and i still have so many bills to pay, from my rent payment, to my electric and water bills, same goes to the house of my mother that she currently lives in right now.

I'm working at J.Corp, short term for, Johansson's Corporation, i work here from 6 in the morning, then to 7 in the evening, then after that, i have my shift to a convinient store from 8 in the evening, to 3 in the morning. Sometimes i don't really eat in order to save enough money, because i really want my mother to go to therapy already.

She's all i have left, and what more could i lose if i lost her too?

"Don't worry about me, darling. I promise you, i will be just fine. Don't forget to eat, okay? Take care of yourself." She said her voice lacing with the comfort that i missed everyday.

"Yes, i know Ma. I'll try to go there when i have enough money-" I was cut off when the voice of my boss rang through the air from the intercom.

"Y/l/n."

I rolled my eyes before bidding my goodbye to my mother, telling her that I'll just call her back later.

Ughh, what does she needs right now?

It's already break time, that means no work. I only hope she's just calling me right now for another free food, because if not, hell will lose.

My work here in this company has ups and down, well, the downs are mostly caused by my very own boss, Scarlett Johansson. I don't know what i did to that woman, because there's not a day where she wouldn't yell at me for completely nothing, or just gives me tons of works, that i know, is supposed to be for the others to work on.

The ups are because of my friends, well, sometimes, it's caused by Ms. Johansson too though. She's just so random sometimes, like in first, she would act all devil to me as if i did something very horrible to her, then the next, she's inviting me to have a lunch with her, sometimes dinner in a very expensive restaurants, which is im very grateful for, but it's all just confusing.

I mean, why me of all people that is on this building, that is probably much more worth her time?

She always manages to get in my nerves, but in all those bad things she does to me, i can't helo but catch feelings for the woman because of every little kind things and gestures she do to me, which i probably found weird, like...she's always mean to me and all, but i mean...she's beautiful, and sometimes can be such a gentlewoman, that so many people here has a crush on her.

But, i always just take those feelings and thoughts aside. Because, well, she always -not just being mean to me- but sometimes, she get on my nerves that it hurts my feelings already, but all i did is to listen to her hurtful words towards me, while wondering what i did wrong.

It's just all exhausting and very rude of her, that sometimes i just find myself crying in the dark while walking to the convinient store. I already have so many problems, and she still adds up, confusing me and hurting me mentally, and it just gets all to much.

But, even if i want to quit already, i can't. This work is what gives me money to survive and help my mother, ofcourse i wouldn't waste it even if i have to go through hell in the process.

"Come in." I heard her say from the other side of the door.

"Yes, Ms. Johansson?" I asked while looking at her, standing just beside the door.

She looked up at me with a stone cold face, she looked at me up and down, almost looking like she's judging every part of like that made me shrink on where i am standing.

I just only hope for one thing, for her to not yell and shout at me, because dude, i am not really having a very good day. I still haven't eaten breakfast, or even lunch, and it's now dinner time, and im trying so hard not to feel weak because i still my have my shift in the convinient store. Then my mom, and...just all.

The payments of the bills will be coming next week, along with my mother's, and thank god, my payment here will be given to me tommorow. That's why i didn't eat, i will just buy more food tommorow.

"Did you already eat?" She asked.

This is what im talking about the small kind gestures of hers, that i don't even know she do with everyone here in the company, or it's just me.

"I-i uhh- i still didn't, Ms. Johansson." I said with my head hung down. I heard her stand up abruptly, then i heard papers scattering around.

"Did you ate lunch?" I shook my head. "Breakfast?" I shook my head.

"Oh come on, for fuck sake, Y/n! We've already talked about this, didn't we? Don't act like a child wanting to be reminded on when to eat, because none of us here want your burden. We can't just have you collapsing out of nowhere because you didn't ate like last time."

And this is what i said about her, being mean and rude and evil and bad, and just all the worse things you can think of.

"I - im sorry, Ms. Johansson..." I heard her click her tounge, before her footsteps walked near me.

"Come with me, let's eat dinner together." I heard her say, before completely walking past me.

"But, Ms. Johansson, i still have a lot of paperworks to do-" I was cut off by her.

"Shut up and just follow me, Y/n." She said with her usual cold tone.

I sighed defeatedly before running after her, stopping at my desk and quickly getting my back. I just followed her like a puppy until we're in her car, and being the 'gentlewoman' that she is, she opened the door for me.

What she said earlier was true, i blacked out because of hunger and stress, but i just told her that i was so busy, because well, im too shy to tell her my life condition, i don't want her judging me when she's always doing it everyday, i can't handle it anymore if she used my life situation to say mean things to me.

I stayed silent the whole drive, fiddling with my fingers as i did so, and occasionally glancing at her. Her jaw are tensed, all of her are tensed. I always try to act all brave, but in inside, i get scared of her sometimes, that i caught myself flinching at the small sounds that i would hear everywhere.

The dinner, well it was silent too, but speaking of the little gestures she do to me, she did what she usually does, cutting the hard pieces of food for me, and literally flooding the table and my plate with tons of foods.

"Your work time is already over, I'll get you home." She said as she started the car.

"Oh- uhm, actually, can you drop me off at the convinient store but the street after your building?" I asked and she looked at me, frowning.

"You're still working there?" She spat out, making me look down, avoiding her burning gaze. "Didn't i told you to quit working there already? You're living all by yourself, you didn't need to work there too, to survive for the living..."

I do, Scarlett. Unfortunately, i fucking do.

"No wonder why you always pass me late paperworks." She said, and i can see in my peripheral vision that she's shaking her head.

All i wanna do is to cry as she drive the car. How can she say those things to me when she doesn't even know what and how my life is like?

"Thank you, for the dinner." I said once we stopped infront of the store.

"Just get out." She said without even sparing me a glance.

"Bye, drive safely." I muttered before getting out, once i was out, she drove almost instantly.

I felt tears brimmed out of my eyes, but quickly wiped it and shook my head while taking a deep breaths.

It's okay. It's going to be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~

No one's POV:

"Bye, drive safely." Scarlett heard the soft tone of the woman she loves for 3 years.

It's hard to love Y/n in the dark, and be a devil when she's infront of the woman as if she didn't fantasize about Y/n walking down the aisle as she waited on the altar, or having a multiple kids with the younger girl and just living the best life with her.

"Just get out." Scarlett internally cringed and cursed herself for sounding so mean.

Every mean words that would come out of her mouth to Y/n's ear, she would immediately feel guilty and get completely mad at herself.

As much as she wants to be kind and apologize to the poor girl already, she can't just risk it. All of it. She scared and terrified that if ever they got more closed, then Scarlett might no be able to control herself and be all obsessed with Y/n. And she's too traumatized at her past relationship, that it gets in her head when she thinks of having Y/n as her girlfriend.

What if she got hurt again? Or what if she hurt the most genuine person she knows? The only woman who she truly love for all her life. As much as it's a very idiotic thing for her to do those things to the pure woman, she just can't help but do it.

Not that it makes her happy or anything in the latter, but it's most likely just her way of having Y/n's attention, because whenever she'd alone at her, she gets to have Y/n all for herself. She's just so stubborn to makes everything easy and better with her relationship with Y/n.

She knows she's being shit and all, and that anytime, she might lose her girl, but this is the only way she can think of to do, due to what she had been through her life, not just her past relationship.

She don't even have any idea why Y/n is still working for her. But, this time, with the help of her friend's -Lizzie's- words, she knows that this gotta stop soon. Which is her goal. She's just trying to find the courage, and the right words to say, and hoping that she will not gonna be too late for that.

She loved you from the moment you walked through her office door, she's just too scared to admit it to herself, and as days and months passed, she found herself being wrapped up around you finger.

She knows what she's doing is sometimes getting out of line, but due to her stress and on what she's been through, that's just kind of her things, which is not good, but she will surely change it, not just for herself, but especially for you, and you only.

"You gotta stop treating Y/n like that, she's the kindest person i know, and she doesn't deserve to be treated anything like that, Scarlett."

She still remembers Lizzie's words in her mind like it's tattooed there already. But, not to worry, she'll be asking for your forgiveness soon enough, and she'll do everything, even if she needs to get on her knees and kiss your feet.

All i well and peaceful as she sit on her desk chair, listing everyone who she will be paying for tommorow, and you're one of those people, she figured that maybe, this is gonna be a good timing to apologize to you, she can just order you to come to her penthouse that is on the top floor of this building and tell you that she'll give you the money there, then she'll apologize.

That's a good idea, right? Right.

A ding from her phone caught her attention, she immediately clicked the message of one of her men's, that she hired to watch over you. Yeah, she's too possessive like that.

Anger immediately rose inside her body, as the apologies she's planning to do faded in her mind like bubbles. It's a video of you, being held by a man she knows all to well. It's the man that is always hugging you from every video her men's sends her, who is also your co worker at the store.

She doesn't want to think things too fast, but she just can't help but thought of what's your connection with that man. She once asked you about your love life and you said you're single, but this man keeps making her think otherwise.

Anger, jealousy and all rose inside her body, until all of it filled her up completely.

Maybe she can just do the apologies in another day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n's POV:

Today is the day im gonna have my payment.

After a whole breakdown last night at the store, i am feeling very well right now, thanks to my a good friend of mine, Max, he's a boy. He's very kind enough to comfort me and even walked me home, things like that are normal to us, plus, i would trust him with my life, not that because he's my friend, but because i know he won't take advantage of me or anything because he's very gay.

I'm now walking towards to Ms. Johansson's office, instantly warning at the lack of seeing people on the way. Usually, when it's the day of paying off, so many people would be scattering around her, but now? It's dead silence, only the sound of silent conversing, and the typing on keyboards. I was gonna knock on the door already, but i was stopped when Samantha called me out.

"Y/n! Hey! Ms. Johansson said you'll be receiving your payment up there." I frowned instantly.

"Are you guys have been payed already?" I asked, turning my whole body to her.

"Yeah, you didn't know? She sent us all a messages saying that we need to go here earlier than usual..." She explained unsurely.

"No...she didn't...." I trailed of on my words.

I bid Sam a goodbye and said that im gonna go upstairs. I quickly ran towards the elevator with my heart pounding in my chest.

What if she's gonna give me my last payment because she'll gonna fire me now?

Oh god, oh god, oh god-

I was brought out of my trance when the ding of the elevator rung out, i quickly walk towards inside, trying to find a trace of Ms. Johansson, while calling her name. I soon stopped when i saw her laying at a pool bench, sunbathing with just a a piece swimsuit.

I blushed and looked down, trying to avoid her smooth and bright skin.

"Ms. Johansson." I made my presence known, and in my peripheral vision, i felt her looked up, then stand up, there's a movements came from her but i didn't looked up.

"Ms. Y/l/n..." I can hear her voice that she has a smirk. "You can look up now." And i did, and saw her in a robe.

"Ms. Johansson, im here to take my payment." I said politely, giving her a tight small smile, but it was soon turn into a frown when i saw her face fell.

"Ooh, that....right. Well, actually, Ms. Y/l/n, you wouldn't be receiving anything." I frowned, as i felt my heart fell.

"W-what? Why? W-what did i do?" I stammered, my heart is now hammering in my chest.

"What did you do? Why don't you think about the days i always yelled at you for failing almost all of the paperwork i gave you? Did you forget about all that already?" She said with a sadistic tone.

I avoided her gaze, instead i gaze forwards, which is enough to not see her eyes, since she's a lot taller than me.

"No, i didn't, Ms. Johansson. But, as far as i can remember, i already made all my mistakes right. And...not all the time of you, calling me in your office, was because i did something wrong." I can't help but let out that harshly than i intended it to be.

I really need that money, and there's no way i will get out here without that.

"Oooh, getting too confident now, are we, Ms. Y/l/n?" She said with a teasing tone.

I can't help but feel humiliated in our current situation, and it makes me feel so small that all i want to do is to die or just jump right off of this building.

"Ms. Johansson, please, i really need the money. I will do everything you'll say, just please..." I pleaded, maybe being too confident and fighting back would just make her not give it to me.

"Anything?" She asked, and i nodded.

"Anything." I said, looking up at her. I saw a glint in her eyes, but it was soon faded.

"This is what you want, right?" She waved the stack of dollar in the air with her hand, and i nodded, before widening my eyes at the next action she made.

"Then get it." She said as she throw the money to the large swimming pool she has here.

I don't know how to swim, my body turned cold, but the desperation got the best of me.

Without that money, i will not have the chance to pay my bills. I need that. Most importantly, my mother needs that.

"What are you waiting for?" I flinch at her voice, looking back up at her with tears in my eyes.

I felt so little, like a slave, and so poorly humiliated. My heart aches at the thought of someone, treating me like this. I know that she is much up there than me who is literally living like a stray puppy, but she has no rights to do this to me.

She is so evil.

I saw how her eyes changed its look, it's like she got taken back about something, but before she can even utter i look back at the deep swimming pool, where all the dollars are floating.

I took a deep breath, before swallowing the lump on my throat. I walk fastly to the pool, then jump, with one thing on my mind.

This is for my mother.

I heard her voice called me out, but i didn't cared, and tried my best to get all of the money, while trying to gasp for air everytime i came to the surface, only to realize that im literally in the middle of the pool.

With every jump from the bottom, i realized that im at the very deep, my movements became frantic as i felt myself losing so much oxygen, while i kept hearing her muffled voice screaming my name worriedly.

I already drank the water, and some went through my nose, i was gonna reach out for another dollar when i felt a strong big arms wrapped itself around me, and the next thing i know, i was gasping for air while holding the wet money in my hands tightly.

I hope my asthma doesn't attack me right now.

"What the fuck, Y/n? Why the fuck did you do that? You could've died!" She yelled and i flinch while still gasping, and looked at the pool to see that there's still left, i was gonna jump again, but her strong masculine arms caught me.

"Hey! Stop! Stop!" She yelled, trapping me completely in her arms.

I couldn't take it anymore, my chest is burning, along with the pain im feeling right now. I sobbed, and cried hard not caring of what her reaction will be.

"H-hey.." Her voice sounded as if she was being strangled.

"Get off of me..." I breathed out, i want to vomit, maybe because of the amount of water i drunk and i felt it hard to breathe. "T-there's still more...i-i n-need to get that...my-my m-mom needs i-it..." I stammered, my tone is completely broken.

"P-please...i-i need to get it.." I thrashed around her arms, but then she hugged me, completely trapping me in her arms.

"Hey, hey, darling...it's okay, you don't have to get that...shhh, shhh, im sorry, i-im sorry..." Even me, i couldn't recognize her voice.

I stopped thrashing around, but still continue to gasp for air, my cries and sobs filled through the air. I felt so helpless, so poor, humiliated, and very desperate.

I looked down at the money in my arms, avoiding the sweet nothings she kept whispering in my ears. Her voice sounded soft, it tweaks, and sometimes it breaks, like she's crying.

"I-it's still n-not enough..." I said breathlessly. "Get off of me." I demanded weakly. "Please, stop making it all so hard for me...please...i just wanted my money...please...i can't- i cant do this anymore." I whispered brokenly, trying to push her death grip on me.

She kept muttering an apologies, then comforting words, but all i felt towards her is hatred, madness and all the worse things to feel.

We stayed like that until i calmed down. I'm still breathing unevenly, and i know im having my asthma. I'm shaking and all, with my lips quivering as i sob quietly. I don't know what's happening to her as she's holding me tightly, while whispering apologies to me.

Out of nowhere she picked me up ever so gently, while still whispering that it's all gonna be okay, and she's so so sorry. With all the things that had happened, i felt so weak, so weak that i can't even open my mouth because of exhaustion, im still gripping the money that is in my hand.

She went inside her penthouse while still carrying me, both of my hand is on my chest, clutching it together as i still feel my chest tightening, then the side of my head is on her shoulder.

I felt so weak.

My body is still shaking, and I don't know how to stop it.

I felt so cold, and i know that im going to be sick for days.

Why does Scarlett have to be mean to me?

My lips wobbled at my thoughts, as a strangled sob came out of it.

"Shhh, im sorry, im sorry....stop crying already, baby. It hurts my heart to see you cry..." I'm too exhausted to even manage to think what she just said as the next thing i know is she put me on the bathtub.

"N-no...i wanna go home..." I protested weakly, shaking my head as i look at up at her, to see her already looking up at me.

"No, you'll stay here, you'll stay here. It's okay, im sorry please, stay here...stay here for now, please....let me just take care of you, yeah?" She pleaded making me frown at her attitude, but i shook my head.

"N-no...t-the money, i need i-" I was cut off by her.

"The money will be fine, sweetheart. I'm your boss, you'll do as i said." She demanded with a soft tone. I didn't utter a word anymore, then look down.

"Can you give me that for a second, love?" She pointed at the money in my hand, i opened my hand and she took it then out it on the table beside the little table beside the bathtub, but not before kissing my head and saying 'good girl'. Then she took my face with her hands, looking at me with the most softest look she's given me.

"Don't worry about the money, okay?" She asked softly, and i nodded.

"But, i need it.." I said.

"I know, but don't worry about it for now, okay? Clean yourself first- do you need any help?" She asked and i shook my head.

"Okay, im just gonna be right outside the bathroom, okay? I'll get you some clothes and there's a brush and extra towels there, okay?" She pointed at the drawer under the sink.

"Just call me if you need anything, okay?" I nodded once again, and she smiled a little before kissing my head, leaving a lingering kiss there that felt so different.

She left and i started cleaning myself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scarlett's POV:

As soon as i close the bathroom door, i sighed, leaning my head against it.

Why did i do that? Fuck.

Everything felt so wrong, my heart shattered into pieces as the earlier moments ran through my mind once again. Just thinking of how desperate she was earlier to get the money hurt me in the most impossible way, and the thought of her, almost dying because of what i did, is slowly killing me. The look on her face, fuck. It's all plastered in the back of my head, and the scenes kept playing without a stop.

An idea came into my mind, i quickly get her some clothes first, which is probably gonna be too big for her, i put it outside the bathroom door, on the table beside it. Then, i quickly pulled out my phone, dialing Wanda, not before walking far away enough from the bathroom.

"Hey, Lizzie?" I asked.

"Hey, Scar. What's up?" She asked.

"I need you to do me a favor." I said, then get straight to the point.

I told her to do a background check on Y/n's personal life, and do everything to see what my girl's life is really like. Then i told her what had happened, which she scolded me for. I told her my plan on getting Y/n and then after that, she made me promised to not to do something bad to Y/n again, or she said, she'll steal the girl from me, which made me a little aggressive, and cursed her through the phone, then we said goodbye.

After the phone call, i felt presence behind me, making me look around and saw Y/n standing there, looking so adorable and pretty as ever. My clothes is so big for her, but it makes my heart melt at the sight. Though, my heart still aches because she wouldn't even look at me straight in the eyes.

"I- uh, im gonna take my money now, then go home." Her voice is raspy, i quickly made a move walking to the kitchen then getting a glass of water.

"Come here, please." I said softly, while pouring a water in the glass.

She looked at me for a second, and when she caught me staring at her she quickly looked down, before hesitantly walking towards the kitchen countertop.

"Take a seat." I said with soft voice.

Now's my only chance, well, if i still have.

I slide the glass towards her and told her to drink it, which she did, almost downing it in just a 10 seconds. I watch her every movements with longing eyes, as my heart shatter on how afraid she seemed infront of me. It took me everything in my power to not to let my tears fall of.

I knew, by the moment and scenes we had earlier, i knew i already went beyond the line, and i will stop it right here. No procrastinations anymore. I walked towards her and stop by here side until im just a few inches from her. My arms are aching to be wrapped around her, while i beg for forgiveness, which i know i don't deserve, but i can still try, right?

I saw how she became tensed, but still continue on infront of her at a black space. I see her hands that is on the table shaking a little, which breaks my heart a little more, and i see her chest heaved as she breath.

"Y/n..." I called out softly, with my voice slightly wavering. "Can you look at me, hun? Please?" I asked, as i raised my hands to touch her cheeks, but quickly stopped when i saw her flinch and shielded her hands infront of her face.

I can hear my heart shattering into pieces, goosebumps started to form on my skin. I couldn't help and stop the tears that brimmed out of my eyes as i look down at her.

"P-please...i just wanna go home with my money..." She whispered so brokenly.

"Y/n...." I breathed out, but she put her hands down while shaking her head, now looking at me.

"P-please, j-just give me my money, and I'll quit, y-you won't see me anymore, just please, let me go in peace. I can't take what you're doing to me anymore....i promise, I'll quit." She rambled, and my heart stopped at the words she said.

"You can hurt me all you want if that's what will get you to give me my money, do anything- everything you want, yell at me, hurt me, slap me, i-i don't care, just give me my money, please, my- my mother needs it..." She pleaded, with her hands clasped and her eyes full of tears while looking up at me.

Tears are now streaming down on my face, the look she's giving me now, and along with the words she's saying is breaking me apart.

"Stop saying those things, i-i would never hurt you, okay?" I demanded, my voice getting hard.

Why would she thought im gonna hurt her? I would never dare or even think about laying a finger on her.

Am i that bad to her, for her to think this way?

"...and i will never gonna shout at you again, okay?..." My hands seems to have their own mind as it unconsciously went to her soft cheeks, caressing it as soon as they landed on the soft skin. "I'm sorry, im really sorry, not just for the things that i did today, but for all the things i did to you. I-i i never meant any mean words that i told you, it's very hard to explain it right now, but i promise you, there's something behind those things on why i treated you like that. Just please, don't leave, okay? Don't quit on me, please...." I pleaded looking down at her as my thumb continued on caressing her cheeks.

She looked down, and let out a sob.

"But, im tired..." She breathed out brokenly. "I'm so tired." She sobbed out before looking at me with mixed emotions in her eyes.

"You don't know how much you always hurt me everyday by those mean words you say to me, you don't know h-how i feel when i would walked out of you office with my head down ashamed of how much they might've probably think of how idiot i am because everyday, you'll scream at me. You don't know how i felt so humiliated, so little with everything that you did to m-me. I hate you. I despise you." She whispered the last 2 sentence with full of hatred and dark tone.

I sobbed out, before pulling her in my arms, her head is on my chest, i hold her tightly as i sobbed while chanting an apologies. She kept pushing me, but i made no move on pulling away, that it seemed to might've got in her nerves as she weakly punched me in the chest repeatedly. She's too thin and small than me, so it's no use.

I always told her to eat, and always makes her come with me to eat, because i hate how she looked so malnourished.

Maybe, later the day, i hope to find out what her personal life is really like. I have a feeling that it's nowhere near the words of good life, because of how desperate she is on getting the money, but whatever it will be, i took a mental note on helping her with it, it doesn't matter if she would decline or not, because i will surely do anything to help her, and she can't stop me.

"I know, i know you hate me, it's okay, shhh...there you go, punch me, yell at me, do whatever you want, it's okay..." I said with gentle tone while still holding her tightly.

She kept thrashing around, but i just keep her in lock in my arms, while still whispering comforting words and apologies to her ear occasionally. Fortunately, soon enough, she calmed down.

She's sniffling, and coughing, and she's still shaking, making me feel very worried. I pour a water on the glass with my hand one, while the other is still holding her, then i give it to her.

"Can you drink this for me, darling?" I ask gently, she didn't do anything, so i asked once again.

"Please, drink this? You need to drink water, so you'll still gonna be hydrated." I said softly, and this time, she shook her head.

"I wanna go home..." I sighed defeatedly, i kissed her head and put the glass down.

I took her face with my one hand, pulling it towards me for her gaze to be on me. Her face has no emotions, but her eyes says it all. She's tired, exhausted, even. And i know it's my fault. Her eyes are bloodshot red, same goes to her nose, there's so many stained tears on her cheeks, just by looking at her face made me more mad at myself, and felt extremely more guilty.

"I'm gonna let you go home with your money, I'll even double it, but promise me you're not gonna quit. I mean, even if you really do consider it, i won't let you, but say it to my face that you won't quit, or else-" She cut me off.

"Or else what?" She asked.

"Or else you won't gonna get to step outside, and i will lock you in here." I said with my dominant voice, before silence elope around us.

"Why are you being like this to me?" She asked with the smallest voice, after a minutes of silence.

"Because, i like- love you. I love you, since the first day you walked through my office door, i didn't want to admit it to myself because im scared, but as months passed by, i fell more harder for you, and i-...i couldn't stop it anymore-" She cut me off, once again.

"Please, stop with the bullshit-" I frowned and immediately cut her off.

"Stop saying it's just a bullshit things , because it's not." I said with an offended tone.

"Because it is. How can you say you love me after all the things you have done to me? After how you treated me like shit, as if im just someone who's born to be treated like that?" She quickly interfered making me shut up.

I mean, i have my reasons, but i know deep inside me, it's not that even good enough and too reasonable to say.

I'm too lost in my thoughts because the next thing i know is she easily got out of my arms.

"I won't gonna quit, if you would just give me my money, and let me leave peacefully. And, please, if you really are sorry, stop treating me like an animal, and start treating me like a human." That broke my heart, knowing i really did already got beyond the line.

I was too stunned to speak as all i can do i to watch her her her things, and when she's done, she stopped infront of me. I snapped out of my thoughts, and told her to wait until i get the money. I quickly walk to my office, and took a couple stacks of dollars, that is probably 10x more than her usual payment, but i didn't care.

She frowned when i put it on her hands, then looked at me confusedly.

"It's all yours." I said, with a small smile.

"No, im not gonna accept this just because you pity me or anything." She said while giving me the other stacks, and keeping what is rightfully hers.

"No, you don't have to want it, but i insist. Please, just- just take it." I said, giving her the money, but she shook her head before stepping away from me.

"I don't need that, just give it to those who needs it the most." She said before completely walking away.

I tried to call her, but she just continue to walk until she stopped infront of the elevator. I stand up, running after her as she got in, she turned around and looked at me, tears are visible in her eyes.

"No." She said weakly, but i didn't stopped and continue walking towards the elevator.

"Stop!" She demanded, and i stopped.

I saw the elevator doors closing little by little, a lone tear made its way down on my face, just like hers, but hers are more.

"Y/n..." I called out unknowingly.

"Scarlett..." She quickly said with the same tone as me, as if we're greeting each other, but this one, we have a sad tone.

Soon enough, the elevator closed, i walked towards it completely, before throwing multiple hard punches on it. Tears are now completely streaming down my face, as her name longingly slipped out of my lips while i sob.

Did i lose my chances already?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No One's POV:

"Hey, guys- wait, where's my desk?" Y/n was supposed to greet her friend, but stopped mid way as she took notice of her missing desk.

"Oh god, thank god, you're here! We're gonna ask you the same thing!" Samantha exclaimed worriedly, as Gab nodded.

Y/n felt her heart pounding. What if she's been fired? I mean, there's some good things there, she won't gonna experience being with someone so evil, but she's not ready, by the way Scarlett acted yesterday, saying she won't let Y/n quit. So many thoughts run through her mind, as her friends waited for her answer, the raspy voice boomed from the intercom.

"Ms. Y/l/n, come to my office, please."

Surprisingly, Scarlett's voice is not that cold and scary, it's soft, warm, and she even used a please.

"Go, tell us what happened, okay?" Gab said, and Y/n nodded before turning to her heels and walking towards the office with so many thoughts running through her mind.

She knocked on the door, receiving a soft come in, before she completely went inside. Her eyes quickly landed on a extra desk that is on the corner, with boxes on top of it. She averted her gaze and looked at Scarlett, who is looking at her with soft eyes and small smile?

"Come here. Take a seat." Scarlett softly commanded and Y/n nodded obeying what Scarlett had said.

"Uh- Ms. Johansson, may i ask where's my desk? I mean, my work desk, the one where i work, it's not there when i arrive-" Y/n rambled, avoiding Scarlett's eyes as if she's scared, well, she's nervous, but Scarlett's heart shatter at the thought of Y/n being scared of her.

Scarlett swallowed the lump on her throat, before clearing it. "That's actually the reason why i called you here. From now on, you'll be working here, in this office with me. That..." Scarlett pointed at the desk. "..is yours, and your paperwork will be lessen, but you'll gonna be with me- always gonna be with me everyday and everytime." Scarlett explained, Y/n frowned.

"Is my time here is still the same?" Y/n asked, and Scarlett shook her head.

"You'll go home, once i go home. You'll go here, once i go here. So practically, you're time will be from 7 in the morning, to 10 in the evening." Y/n frowned, but she didn't said anything.

What about her job at the convinient store?

It's as if Scarlett can read her mind, Scarlett speak up.

"And your job at the store is gone, but your payment here will be triple, so you don't have to worry about that. I already talked to the owner of the store, and she immediately agreed." Well, more like, she payed the owner.

Triple of my payment? That's too much. Y/n thought.

"Any question, Ms. Y/l/n?" Scarlett asked, and Y/n shook her head.

"None, Ms. Johansson, thank you. I'll be starting my work now." Y/n said and stood up, but Scarlett stopped her.

"Wait." Scarlett immediate said, making Y/n stop and turned her body to face Scarlett, but still not meeting the older woman's gaze. "...can you look at me?...please..." That's all it took for Y/n to look at Scarlett slowly.

Y/n saw many emotions on Scarlett's face, there's a small frown, her lips are in a thin line, her eyes are slightly red and smaller than it usually are.

"Did you already eat?" No.

Y/n nodded.

"Y-yeah, i-i already ate." She didn't, she already sent all her money to her mother, despite her mother's declines and disagreements, she still did.

Tho, she left money for her bills and all, and a little for her food for a week or 2, but, it's just like for, 1 food for a day.

Even with her best lying action, Scarlett still saw right through Y/n, and she took a mental note on putting more food on Y/n's plate later for lunch and dinner.

"Okay, you may go now." Scarlett said with a soft tone, and Y/n nodded before walking to her desk, arranging all her things again.

Days, week, and a few months goes by, it gets better, it's slow, but there's an improvement on their relationship. Unfortunately, not for Y/n's mother's health.

Scarlett always do this little things that made Y/n's heart soften towards the older woman. Everyday she went to work, there's gonna be a food on her desk, when she would look at Scarlett in curiosity, she would see her being busy and all. Tho, there's no name on it, she knows very well that it's from the blonde woman.

And since everyday, they are together, her heart soften more at the little gestures that the woman does to her, she would open up the door for Y/n, she's very kind towards her now, she's not shouting anymore, and! Everyday, and i mean, everyday, and there's even an exact time that Y/n would recieve different types of flowers, she confronted Scarlett about it, but Scarlett just always changes the topic, after saying; "It's from me, now...blah blah blah...."

Sometimes, Y/n catch Scarlett looking at her, then looked away as if she's not been staring at the younger woman's soul. And ofcourse, with all of those things, it did something to Y/n, but she's just too scared to admit it and figure it out for herself.

Until one night, one moment led to something more.

"Hey, did you guys saw Y/n by any chance?" Scarlett asked Y/n's friends, as she look for the small girl at the crowd of so many people.

There's currently a party for a successful year on their company, and Scarlett decided to throw a big party, with everyone who is working for her, along with other business man and woman who they got to collab in this years events.

Scarlett did saw Y/n earlier, but there's so many interruptions here and there, and she lost her girl. Now, she got the chance to find her as the party started, since they already have a great enough relationship with each other, maybe it's time for Scarlett to move?

We don't want anyone getting you instead of Scarlett, do we?

"Oh, yeah, she actually went home already." Samantha said, and Scarlett nodded before saying thank you.

Taking a few deep breaths, Scarlett told the people who are in charge of the party to guide all the people and to finish this in a few hours already, saying she'll gonna call it a night already.

After that, she quickly went to her car, driving as fast as she could to Y/n's house, with a very nervous nerve and afraid feeling. What if she got rejected? No. I mean, either way she'll always gonna find a solutions to get to call Y/n hers.

Soon enough, she arrived. Some lights are still on, thank god, so she knocked 3 times, only to recieve no answer, so she did it again until she got tired and took it on her own hands to get inside, fortunately it not locked. I mean, she's her boss,and she's worried so what's wrong with trespassing inside of her secretary? Nothing.

"Y/n..." She called out softly, but nothing responded, instead as she walk more steps, her heart broke at the sound he heard.

It's Y/n's voice, she knows it, and the girl is clearly crying, and Scarlett became too desperate to find out. Curiosity got the best of her, and wandered around the small apartment more, until she stopped as soon as the sight of Y/n curled up in ball in a small couch went to her gaze.

She sees the girl shaking, sobbing loudly, a wrecked phone beside her feet, as she hold her face in her shaking hands. Y/n's shoulder is shaking violently, and Scarlett took no hesitation on walking towards her, slowly.

"Y/n..." The younger woman's head whipped at the sound of her name, quickly scrambling around to stand up and fix herself.

"Ms. Johansson-, what are you doing here?" Y/n asked avoiding the CEO's gaze.

Y/n looks so broken, even her voice sounded the same, it sounded so timid that it sounded like in any minute, she'll be bursting in tears. Her chest heaved up and down, almost chaotically, making Scarlett more worried.

She's shaking, her shoulders are violently shaking. She's still in her black dress, a dress that made Scarlett completely mesmerized, and became more simp for the younger woman. Even with her situation right now, Scarlett still finds her the most gorgeous woman that she had ever laid her eyes on.

She'll always gonna be the best girl for Scarlett.

"I was looking for you at the party, your friends told me you might've came home already...." Scarlett started off softly as she scanned the girl. "The door is opened, and I let myself in already, I hope you don't mind." Her heart broke at how Y/n looks so defeated.

"Oh- uh no... I don't mind." Y/n's voice is wavering. "W-what- what uhm-... What do you need, Ms. Johansson?" Y/n asked, still avoiding Scarlett's eyes, as she gaze at her broken cheap phone beside her feet.

Instead of answering, Scarlett decided to walk towards her, her feet softly padding on the old floor as she walk towards Y/n who became tensed at the sudden action, but nevertheless, Scarlett continued until she's just a few inches away from Y/n.

"Are you okay?" Scarlett started off softly, before bringing her head up to Y/n's cheeks, wiping some tears off softly. "What happened? Why are you crying, sweetheart?" As much as it warmed Y/n's heart, she gently pulled her face away from Scarlett's hands, making it fall down slowly.

"I-it's nothing-"Y/n was cut off by her own sob, as she uncontrollably broke down once again, her hands quickly going to her face.

"Hey, hey..." Scarlett brought the younger woman in a big hug, almost covering Y/n's whole body with her tall and masculine one.

Y/n's body rocked in sobs as Scarlett hold he tightly, the older woman's hand going up and down on Y/n's back comfortingly.

"Can you tell me what happened? It's okay if you don't want to, but i'm here okay? You can talk to me of whatever. None of that already, please?" Scarlett's voice wavered at the end, her heart breaking at the sight of Y/n and the sound of her loud broken sobs.

"N-no, y-you can g-go, Scarlett. I'll just do w-whatever you want with me t-tommorow..." Y/n tried to get away from Scarlett's grip, pushing her chest away slightly motioning that she wants to get away, but Scarlett only tightened her grip on the younger woman.

"Y/n." Scarlett said softly but sternly, demandingly rather, as if she doesn't want Y/n to do the actions again.

Y/n stopped, before a pit of sobs broke out of her once again, letting her body fall on to Scarlett chest, the comfort of the older woman is spreading her body like a wildfire, making her ask for more.

"Shhhh, it's gonna be okay, my darling. Whatever it is, it's gonna be okay. I'm gonna be with you, I promise, I'll be by your side, yeah?" Scarlett pulled away slightly to have a good look on Y/n, one of her hand is still on Y/n's waist.

"M-mom..." Y/n started, looking down. "My Mom's g-gone, Scarlett... I-i'm all alone now..." Once again, she cried, sobbing loudly before leaning in towards Scarlett.

Scarlett felt her skin became cold, her heart hammered in the inside of her chest.

It can't be. She already gave Y/n's mother the best doctors, and everyday making sure that everything is going well, all that with and without Y/n's knowledge.

Y/n knows that Scarlett is partially helping through her mother's therapy and all, but she didn't know that Scarlett is also the one who's paying for the expenses on the expensive hospital where her mother was in.

Scarlett even met Y/n's mother already, asking for her mother's blessing on having Y/n as her girlfriend, which Y/n's mother already gave Scarlett freely. Being the charming woman she is, she always visited Y/n's mother until she got what she wanted, showing her good intentions and all.

All that without Y/n's knowledge, but that enough for Scarlett to be calm knowing that no one can have her girl, except her and her only.

But now, Y/n's mother is gone, it saddened her, broke her heart even, she became utterly close with the woman, treating her like her own mother, while the woman treated her like her own daughter.

A part of her is somehow, relieved, thinking that Y/n's mother is already at peace, and knowing that she already promised to Y/n's mother that she'll protect her daughter for forever and eternity.

And she will.

She will never let Y/n feel that she's alone, she's here.

"I'm here." Scarlett said with much determination.

"I will always gonna be here, no matter how much you pushed me away, or whatever. And if you'll let me, I will give you the love I have been meaning to give you all along." Scarlett said softly, and hearing Y/n's sobs quite down she became nervous, as Y/n slowly look up at Scarlett with mixed emotions in her eyes.

Y/n doesn't know if she wants to believe what she's hearing or not, Scarlett had already shown her every thing for her to confirm that the older woman has a feelings for her, she fell for it, and now, hearing Scarlett saying this, it somehow brought the chaotic thoughts calm down about Scarlett in her mind.

And as they look at each other in each passing seconds, both of their hearts grew, and from that moment, Scarlett knew that everything she had been waiting for, the 'forever' she's been looking for, for so long, has now been found.

Her forever is now found.

And she doesn't have any intention of letting it slipped out of her hand, not for forever.

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

Wow, I never thought that this would get out of my drafts 😭 I just want to thank @thewidowsledger for giving me all the things that I really need to hear to continue my writing journey, thank you so much, Den! (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) (Would you like a part 2 for this, everyone?)

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ 〞voicemails with chan after an argument

✰ genre : angst, romance and fluff in between

✰ pairings : bf!chan x fem!reader

✰ word count : 0.8k+ words

CHAN | minho | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin

one 𖨂

hey, my beautiful girl. how are you? it’s not the same without you by my side. the house looks wrecked and so am i. i am so so sorry baby for snapping at you last night. i. . . didn’t mean it. i swear. it all happened because of me and my work, and i do accept that. just come back please? i know you’re at your friend’s house but i won’t force you. ever. i just hope we can talk this out thoroughly. please? i love you very much. always know that, yeah? and i’m only a call away if you need me. good night.

two 𖨂

so i didn’t receive an answer back. does that mean you’re going to stay there for a while? alright, i respect your decisions. i always do. you know that right? anyway, today sucked. i kind of twisted my ankle while practising and i tripped over a charger and hurt my chin. it sounds painful but it was even more painful when you don’t reply to my messages, or to my calls and even my voicemails. i fucked up and i know that very well. i may sound selfish but i want you with me. i need you when i wake up and when i sleep. i want to see your face when you smile at me. how long has it been since i last saw you? over 2 weeks i suppose? if you’re listening to my voicemails, let’s meet tomorrow at our usual spot. at 3 i’ll be there. i’ll wait for you even if it takes forever.

three 𖨂

you eventually did show up. to be honest, i was surprised. i didn’t expect you to show up. but i’m glad you did. but i’m not very glad that you almost didn’t speak any other words except for ‘i need time’ and ‘alright’. it was pretty sad. then i realised how bad i must’ve hurt you for you to act this way. and i’ll say sorry a million times if you want me to. i regret ever letting you walk away like that. if only i had tried harder in our relationship we wouldn’t be at this stage where we’re unaware whether we’re together or not. i regret not understanding you earlier and spending my days at the company, rather than with you. i even started taking time out to come home early, at 8. just like you wanted. i even began sleeping on time, but i can’t help myself to fall asleep that easily without thinking how lonely you used to feel when i wasn’t here to hold you or to even talk to you. i regret everything, baby. i really do. i hope you’re happy, not skipping your meals and sleeping for good hours.

four 𖨂

i noticed something fall out of your wardrobe, and even though i respect your privacy, i couldn’t help myself. it was a letter. a letter presumably you wanted to give me, but you couldn’t. and it would be a lie if said i didn’t sit on the floor crying as i read the letter over and over till i had it memorised. you always wanted to write me letters didn’t you? what more do you have up your sleeve? how long are you going to keep impressing me and making my heart flutter like that? you might think i’m being a little too extra today, but it’s true! you can’t just go away after making me fall that deep for you. it’s been three weeks now. how long am i going to be punished? just answer me once. please.

five 𖨂

when i tell you i almost fell off the couch, you won’t believe me. but i almost didn’t believe my eyes when i saw your voicemail. why would you ever be sorry baby? you have all the right to be angry at me. i deserve it. but don’t think you did anything wrong. you just did what you thought was right. and sometimes, it’s better that way you know? like if you wouldn’t have gone away i would just return to my schedule again. i wouldn’t have realised where i was wrong. so don’t blame yourself, okay? as i said before, i’ll wait.

six 𖨂

so this is gonna be the end of all the angsty voicemails as you just called me saying you’ll be coming home tonight. i’ll prepare a welcome dinner for you along with some kisses if you would like. and hugs too perhaps? i am just on my way to clean the house and myself too. since i didn’t shower today, so i’ll see you in about 8 hours. i’m very happy that you’re coming back babe. i love you so much. and i, thank you, for giving me a second chance. i’ll be waiting for you, my love.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 7 - The Blinding Ultra-Violence

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Can y’all please let me know if the long chapters are harder to digest? Because I love writing them, but if they actively impair enjoyment of the story I can start to cut them in half. Chapter Title from DEVIL by Shinedown.

Word Count: 13k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Everyone has a lesson in actions and their subsequent consequences. Emphasis on mental health issues warning for the chapter: specifically suicidal ideation and PTSD.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, fluff, angst

Read on A03!

Chapter 6 - Chapter 8

Taglist: @lordofthunderthr @kritara @sukunassfinger, @justiceforquentin @acciditties

@c1gs-coffee @manicjk

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

Free will was cruel, and you had some choice words for whatever had given it to you. "Words,” meaning several unspeakable acts of violence, a wide variety of cuss words and vulgar phrases that would leave even Ben agape, and at least one loud, feral scream.

Free will had allowed you to attend a fancy party at Vought, a party that put you in a silk dress and winged eyeliner with glossy lips. Free will had let you do one, two, three shots and gotten you tipsy enough that when the elegant woman with strawberry hair had asked if anyone wanted to sing on stage, asked the crowd if there was at least one guest who wasn’t tone deaf and could do a passible rendition of Moon River, you’d raised your hand. Free will had made you not do a fourth shot, so that when you started to sing you didn’t stumble around the stage, missing notes and embarrassing yourself, but had put on a perfect show, singing and swaying in time to the music.

Later, you had learned that the woman with the strawberry hair had been killed later that night, and Free will had allowed you to feel sorry about it. Free will had you visit her grave in the dead of night in a thunderstorm, and let you sing Moon River one last time.

Free will had allowed you to cave when Butcher and the Boys had found you in a different graveyard, only a month later. Free will let you stick with them all the way to the barn. Free will was what had you coming up with very, very stupid plans.

Not this plan, though. You loved this plan. You loved this plan enough that you hadn’t waited even a half hour after thinking of it to call Butcher, or two minutes after Butcher had screened your call to turn around and call MM instead.

“What’s wrong?” MM had picked up after two rings, and you could almost see his worried frown with his words. “Did Soldier Boy-“

“Ben’s in the living room yelling at a documentary about World War II.” You’d dismissed. “He likes to point out all the alleged inaccuracies. I have a plan, I need everyone here by tonight.”

“Uh,” MM said your name apprehensively. “I don’t think that’ll really work.”

“Look, I know everyone’s probably still freaked out about last night, but this is really important-“

“No, that’s not it. We’re fine. Butcher’s still being a fucking ass about it, but everyone else- Hey!” MM had yelled away from the receiver as something banged in the background, accompanied by muffled shouts.

“Uh, MM?” You’d frowned. “Where are you?”

“Ohio.”

“Ohi- why are you in fucking Ohio?”

“Soldier Boy’s shield is here. Turns out it’s been so motherfucking difficult to get because Vought has their hands on it, and they’ve been keeping it in a warehouse in Akron.”

“I thought it had been flown from Jacksonville, with the suit?”

“Nope. Akron. We didn’t know until a few days ago, even Mallory thought it was just waiting in cargo at JFK.”

You’d glanced down the hall to make sure Ben hadn’t heard that his shield was in Ohio, a state he’d once called “America’s shitstained taint” while watching a football game. You heard him shout “fucking commies didn’t do goddamn shit about the Nazi’s, fuck off!” And decided you were in the clear.

“When do you think you’ll be done?” You’d asked, keeping one ear open in case Ben decided to stop fighting with Ken Burns’ voice and join you in the kitchen.

“If Butcher keeps it together and nobody sees Annie and tips off Vought? Tomorrow night.” MM had answered tensely.

“Ok, come right here when you get back. Like I said, I've got a plan, but it’s time sensitive.” You gone to hang up, but paused with your finger over the button. “Don’t die.” You’d added, and heard MM’s grunted acknowledgment just before the call dropped.

Somehow they’d managed to meet MM’s prediction, and all returned in one piece. The team had stood awkwardly in the kitchen—almost everyone avoiding full eye contact with you despite MM’s claim of everything being fine—as you and Ben had sat at the counter, Ben making a mediocre effort to fake some sort of hospitality per your request.

“Thanks to Ashley,” you’d started. “We know Sage told Homelander that I’m in New York and Ben’s awake.”

“Yeah, we’re really sorry about that.” Annie had said your name apologetically. “We should’ve been more careful-“

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” You’d cut her off, giving Ben’s shin a swift kick behind the counter before he could’ve said anything, his disbelieving scorn at your statement running through where your arms were brushing. “And we can use this.”

“Use what?” Hughie had frowned, and you’d continued.

“They haven’t told anyone else about it. We weren’t even sure they knew until Ashley told us. I’m not anticipating them to start alerting the media about me anytime soon, but they should’ve announced that America’s number one traitor is back from the dead and out to attack the innocent.”

“Fucking rude.” Ben grumbled, and a surprisingly bruised feeling ran through you. “All I do is help you, Sunshine, and that’s how you fucking thank me?”

You gave him a quick, half-apologetic, half-annoyed look. I’m being sardonic for arguments sake, and you know it. He’d just rolled his eyes, returning his attention to the mozzarella sticks you’d heated up before the Boys arrived.

“But they haven’t done that,” you’d continued, giving Ben one last dirty look. “Which means-“

“They’re saving it for something.” Annie had finished your sentence with a thoughtful frown.

“Exactly. Sage has some sort of plan, some dramatic and complicated way to fear monger people, turn everyone against Starlight by saying you released Soldier Boy, and have been risking public safety by letting him run rampant for your own anti-American reasons.”

“You want to get ahead of it.” MM had said, eyes narrowed.

You’d nodded, and shared your plan. Now, two days later, you were squished in the back of the van between Hughie—a well placed towel separating any physical contact—and Ben—who despite many protests was eating your burger—watching Firecracker and The Deep sing in a way that made you want to permanently remove your ears.

You visibly recoil as The Deep looks into the camera, and Ben looks up from eating to watch the video as it plays on Hughie’s laptop.

“Fish-boy sounds like a fucking constipated cowboy,” Ben mutters through a mouthful of food.

You hum in agreement. “You even sounded better on your stupid Rapture video.”

Ben scowls, taking another large bite that muffles his words. “I was fucking fantastic in that.”

“You were certainly, technically, singing.” You look up at him with a grin. “With all the passion of a dying squid giving one last, mighty squirt.”

“I don’t ’squirt’, Sunshine.” Ben grumbles, and you can see the moment every filthy thing he could say pops into his head. He takes a rough swallow, mouth opening to say something that will undoubtedly make Hughie regret volunteering to stay in the van, and you cut him off.

“Before you say anything, keep in mind that is still my burger, meaning I have every right to take it back and shove it right up your ass.”

Ben glowers at you, taking another aggressively large bite. “Bitch.” He grunts, and a piece of lettuce falls fully out of his mouth. Though you can feel his dirty look in your direction, you can also feel a spark of amusement run from where your knees are touching into your chest.

“Cunt.” You pick the lettuce off his lap and throw it into his face. “You eat like a squid too.”

“The only thing that me and squids have in common is our giant-“

“Okay!” Hughie shouts, pausing the video. “Soldier Boy, can you please not say something sexual for like, fuck, ten minutes?”

Ben doesn’t respond, invested completely in the burger, and you elbow him in the ribs.

He gives a loud cough, little bits of meat spurting out of his mouth. “What the fuck?!” When you incline your head to Hughie, Ben rolls his eyes and offers Hughie a grunted, “Fuckin hell- fine, you pussy.”

“Oh, ok.” Hughie blinks at Ben nervously before fumbling to unpause the video.

As the laptop catches up with the live feed, jumping to Firecracker bouncing over-excitedly around the now empty stage, Ben leans over you to get a good look at the screen.

“That’s her?”

“Yep.” You give the screen a glare. “Crazy brown-nosing bitch.”

Hughie lets out a noise of agreement, and Ben snorts. After another minute, in which Firecracker manages to say a record twenty-two objectively wrong things in a row, Ben grunts in annoyance.

“When I was at Vought, we had real goddamn talent, not whatever the fuck this is.”

“I know, in the 80s they managed to book a Pretty Boy squid who could kind of sing.”

Lettuce hits you in the face, and you let out a sputtering string of profanities.

“I can more than kind of sing, Sunshine. I have the voice of a goddamn angel. And that song didn’t make any fucking sense, I fucking blew it out of the fucking water- what the fucks so funny?”

“Nothing!” You try and smother the giggles that had built in you as he’d devolved into rambling ire. “You’re way angrier about this than I thought you’d be.”

“I’m not fucking angry-“

“I can feel it, Ben.” You press your leg further against his in reminder. “And even if I couldn’t, you just said ‘fuck’ so many times.”

“I’m not a damn pussy, I’ll swear as much as I fucking please-“ Ben falters slightly as the word slips out once more, and you grin at him.

“When you’re angry, every other word out of your mouth is ‘fuck’. It’s actually really funny.“

“I’m glad it’s amusing for you.” He’s glaring at you, but you can feel the rapid ebbing of his anger through your body.

“It is.” You shrug, and attempt an olive branch. “So was the Rapture video. I used to watch it all the time.”

“Really?” At your words, he’s suddenly giving a toothy, egotistical grin. “What, did you have a crush on me?”

“No,” You mirror his grin, even as you feel your cheeks heat and hear your sister’s teasing in your ear. “It was just really funny.”

He scoffs. “Like you could’ve done it any damn better.”

“Oh, I know I couldn’t have. I sing like a horse who chain smokes.” The lie slips through your teeth with practiced ease. “But nobody would be paying me whatever digusting amout they payed you.”

"Joke's on you, Sunshine. I bought a house with that money."

"Hm," you give him a toothy smile. "I think that makes the joke on Vought."

“I liked your dancing,” Hughie offers weakly. “It was… interesting.”

“See, Cocksucker gets it.” Ben says smugly, giving you a nudge as his attention refocuses on the video.

“That’s, that’s not my name…” Hughie sighs, and you offer him an apologetic, close-lipped smile.

Still leaning over you, Ben takes another bite of the burger as he watches Firecracker. “She’s got good tits,” he observes, and you tilt your head to look at him incredulously. “What?! She does!”

“You didn’t even last,” you look at the clock on Hughie’s laptop. “Five minutes.”

“That’s bullshit, I always last more than five minutes- Hey!”

You manage to fit the entire remaining burger into your mouth a once, chewing frantically before he can try and take it back from you. You give him a smug look. I warned you, Pretty Boy.

He narrows his eyes at you. I’ll make you fucking regret that, Sunshine.

You swallow, his promise of regret already catching up to you from the large bite as the food aches down your throat, and push Ben until he’s fully in his seat. “Her tits better not be nice enough that you decide to blow the mission.”

“Don’t worry, Sunshine, yours are better.” He ignores your venomous look. “And she’s with Homelander. Even the best fucking tits in the world couldn’t make up for choosing that pussy.” His eyes narrow at the screen. “I should just fucking go now, it’s been the same stupid shit for a damn hour.”

“No!” Hughie’s arm shoots out to hold him in his seat, before thinking better and pulling back just as fast. “No, they’re almost ready, please, can we just wait until they’re ready?”

Ben shoots you a look of questioning annoyance. I could just fucking go. Cocksucker couldn’t stop me, and we could all be fucking done and go home early.

No. We’re sticking to the plan. You glare back.

He rolls his eyes. Fucking stupid plan if it takes ten goddamn hours to set up.

You stick your tongue out at him, and turn back to Hughie. “Have they sent any updates? At least gotten the stage passes?”

“They aren’t supposed to check in for another three minutes.” Hughie shakes his head. “And MM’s still working on the stage passes. They’re $350 for some fucking reason.”

“I don’t need a stage pass.” Ben grumbles. “I could just walk in if you would give me the suit, none of those pussies would stop me.”

“The whole point is that you don’t have the suit. But…” You trail off, frowning to yourself. “Hughie, Ben might be right about the stage pass.”

Ben makes a satisfied “Ha!” as Hughie gives you a wide-eyed stare.

“But they can’t know he’s working with-“

“Butcher and Starlight, yeah, I know, it's my plan. But the whole idea is that he’s rogue. Soldier Boy, back from the dead once more, loose on the streets of Manhattan with no adult supervision.” You sweep your hand in a mock headline gesture, and pretend you can’t feel Ben’s indignance. “A real rogue hundred year old terrorist would not have a credit score that lets him buy Vought’s super-diamond-truther backstage pass.”

“So I can have my fucking suit-“

“No,” you snap, and Ben scowls. “That defeats the point even more than the stage pass. Your suit is known government property. It was being kept in a high-security warehouse in Florida. It would be really fucking suspicious if you were wearing it.”

“They were keeping my suit in Florida?!” Ben’s face coils in disgust. “Was my fucking shield in Florida too?! Fuck, is it still fucking there?! In goddamn, sweat-stained-“

“No, apparently Vought was keeping your shield in Ohio.”

“Fucking Ohio?!”

“This doesn’t really seem like it’s about the mission anymore,” Hughie says nervously.

“It’s not, it’s about you fucking dumbass cum guzzlers keeping my shit in goddamn Florida and Ohio- Fuck!”

You give Ben a warning glare, fingers still smoking, as he rubs his arm. “They survived it, and maybe if you put on your big boy pants you’ll manage to as well. Now-“ You turn to Hughie. “You should tell MM that we don’t need the stage pass before he spends a disgusting amount of money on it.”

As Hughie takes out his phone, closing his laptop and standing to cross the van for some semblance of privacy, Ben nudges you with a grunt of your name.

“I don’t like this.” He’s frowning at nothing in particular, and you can feel tight, solid concern through your body. “It’s too fucking public.”

You wrinkle your brow at him, eyes narrowing. “Since when do you give a shit how ‘public’ a mission is?”

“Since it’s a fucking liability. Too fucking public means too many fucking people that even I won’t be able to control.”

“That’s the point-“

“I fucking know ‘that’s the point’, Sunshine, you’ve made that real fucking clear.” Ben grunts, giving you an odd look as his tight feeling grows in your chest. “Doesn’t mean I have to like this fucking dumb plan.”

“Well,” you shrug. “I love it. It’s going to work, you’ll admit I’m a goddamn genius, and maybe Firecracker will start crying like a baby.”

Ben snorts, and a jab of his amusement hits you. But before he can make any snide comments, Hughie hangs up his call with MM and returns to where you and Ben are pressed against the wall of the van.

“Well, MM’s really not happy about it, but he agrees it’s smarter not to do the pass.” Hughie sighs. “And he says that Butcher’s on his way to get us. He should be here in five.”

You nod, turning to Ben with narrow eyes. “Repeat the plan to me.”

He rolls his eyes. “What, don’t you trust me, Sunshine?”

“To retain vital information about my plan that you’ve called ‘fucking stupid’ numerous times? Absolutely not.”

“It is fucking stupid.” He grunts.

You sigh. “Please, Ben. Humor me and pretend you give a shit for one minute.”

Ben’s leg tenses against yours, and something falters along your ribs. He scowls as he speaks in terse, clipped words.

“Get on the stage, make sure the cameras see me, neutralize that Firecracker broad, and beat her up, but don’t kill her for some fucking reason.” The last part is muttered resentfully, and you chose to pretend you don’t hear it.

“And then?” You prompt.

“Break the cameras, find you, and get back here.” He grumbles.

You nod in approval. “You have to make sure you break the cameras, Ben. Frenchie’s going to make sure that all the phones get fried, but you need to break the cameras. There can’t be any evidence you’re not working alone.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I fucking got it. Kill the bitch, break the cameras.”

“Do not kill Firecracker!” Hughie says frantically, giving you a desperate look and saying your name in a pleading tone. “Please don’t let him kill her.”

You elbow Ben in the gut as you respond. “He knows, he’s just being a fucking dick about it.”

“Fuck off, Sunshine,” he mutters. “And you should let me kill her. She’s not fucking innocent, she’s a goddamn lying bitch.”

“Nope. No killing her.” You say firmly, crossing your arms. “You only get to beat her up because we need to sell the whole ‘out for revenge’ narrative. That’s-“

“The point.” Ben finishes your sentence mockingly. “I fucking got it, Sunshine.”

You kick him again. “So prove it, Pretty Boy. No killing Firecracker.”

“What if she tries to attack me? I should be allowed to fucking defend myself-“

You snort. “Her power is being a dogshit human sparkler. Her attacking you would feel like this.” You poke Ben’s arm, and he frowns.

“I thought she was a fucking fire supe. Like you.”

“I mean, yeah. She technically is. But not all fire supes can have massive fucking horse cocks like mine.”

Hughie lets out a chocking sputter, and Ben rumbles a loud laugh that makes your stomach feel soft and warm. You’re saved from dwelling on how the feeling lingers, starting to spread through your body in time with an easy delighted, sensation that’s not yours, by the opening of the van door.

“Am I bloody interrupting something?” Butcher’s dry voice is raised over Ben’s laughter, an angry and wired frown across his face. “Or can we all stop jerking each other off and do our fuckin jobs?”

“Pull the damn stick out of your ass, Butcher.” Ben rolls his eyes. “We’re not the pussies who took a year to do recon on three fucking blocks.”

"Well, someone has to make sure you don’t blow your load all over a bunch of innocent civilians again.” Butcher sneers, and Ben’s fists curl at his sides.

“I have it under control, you fucking-“

“Butcher,” you interject, feeling something hot and bloody in Ben’s chest start to grow. “We’re ready?”

Not taking his eyes off of Ben, Butcher grunts. “We’ve been ready, Love. We’re just waiting on you bloody cunts.”

“Then let’s go.” You start to stand but have barely moved from your seat when Ben’s hands are on you, holding you in place.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ben glares at you, and you feel that weird, tight concern along your skin again.

“On the mission, dumbass.” You snap, trying to pry his grip off of your thigh.

“No.” His hand doesn’t move, and the tight feeling grows. “Too fucking risky.”

“It’s my plan, Ben. Did you seriously think I was going to stay in the fucking van?”

He ignores you, turning to where Hughie and Butcher are watching the exchange, Hughie wide-eyed and Butcher scowling impatiently. “Tell her she’s fucking staying here with Cocksucker.”

“No can do, Mate. She goes where you go.” Butcher gives Ben a mocking grin, and another weird feeling writhes in your—Ben’s—gut.

“We’re right in front of fucking Vought, there’s going to be a shit ton of cameras-Fucking hell!” Ben’s hand jerks off of you, smoking and red.

“I’m a grown ass woman, Ben.” You hiss. “I know what I’m walking into, and I know what the risks are. And seeing as you somehow forgot, I’m in charge of you. I go where you go, and that’s not up for fucking debate. I can, I will handle my goddamn self.”

“Trust me, Sunshine, I know you can.” He says, facing his still-raw palm to you. “Doesn’t mean you have to fucking risk yourself for this bullshit-“

“It’s my fucking job!” You burst out. “The whole ‘find me’ part of the plan requires me to be in the fucking crowd, not sitting on my ass with Hughie!”

“What if fucking Homelander’s there? Then what?”

A painful ardor kicks up in your lungs. “He won’t be.”

“You fucking sure about that?” Ben’s voice is dripping with unconvinced cynicism.

“Why are you being so weird about this? It’s not like-“

Butcher gives an overdramatic cough over your words. “Oi, Bonnie and Clyde. I’d let you two fuck it out, but we’re on a bloody tight schedule. She’s coming, that’s that. Now get off your arses and let’s fucking move.”

“Shut the fuck up, you pussy. We’re not done with our fucking conversation.”

“Yes, we are.” You stand up, walking across the van. “Hughie, wait a bit until we’re out of the alley, then send Ben out. Ben,” you raise your hand, dropping fingers one by one as you run through the plan. “Get on stage, blast Firecracker, give her a few light punches, break the cameras, and find me. No casualties.”

“Maybe sprout some anti-patriot shit as well, Gov.” Butcher adds. “Really bloody sell it.”

You shake your head, giving Butcher an exasperated look. “No, we don’t know what Firecracker might say. What Homelander and Sage have told her. In, violent, and out. That’s it.”

You look back at Ben with a steel gaze, to find a glower of his face you’ve never seen before. His whole body is rigid, jaw clenched, mouth in a dropped scowl as his eyes burn through you. He’s looking at you in a way you aren’t able to read, but you feel like he wants you to. Everything about his face screams that you should be able to understand it, but you can’t.

“You’re, you're leaving me here with him?” Hughie’s voice is unsteady, and when you remove your eyes from Ben you find his face has grown pale.

“It’s only a few bleedin’ seconds, Lass. He don’t bite, don’t he?” Butcher gives Ben a cocky smirk.

“Fucking watch yourself, Butcher, I’ll crack your weak fucking skull and not break a sweat.” Ben snarls, eyes still on you.

Butcher scoffs, a taunting jeer in his voice. "No, you won’t. You don’t want to upset Sunshine.”

Ben’s eyes rip from you as he stands up at a freighting speed, body tense and fists clenched as he reaches his full height. For a second, you think you might have to interfere and prevent Butcher’s life from finding a brutal and inconvenient end in the alleyway, but Ben just gives him a violent, twisted growl.

“Count your fucking blessings that I have a job to do, you pussy. And sleep with one fucking eye open, because once this is over, I’m going to drown you in your own blood.”

Butcher gives him a mocking wink and turns to walk down the alley, leaving you scramble after him.

Before you’re fully out of the van, you turn and give Ben one last look. “No casualties.” You say, and almost against your will, your face draws into a look of and stay safe.

You don’t have time to read his face before you jog after Butcher, but the last thing you see of Ben is his arms still braced at his side, his eyes on yours with an almost feral look.

You catch up to Butcher right at the end of the ally, running face-first into his arm when he holds it out, halted before stepping onto the main street.

“Fucking ow, Butcher.” You rub your face where you’d collided, and over your fingers you barely have time to register the Noir baseball cap and jacket flying at your face, managing to catch them against your chest at the last second.

“Put them on.” Butcher says, and looking over the merchandise you see him leaning out the ally, watching the flowing crowds of pedestrians. People clad in red and blue Firecracker costumes and costume adjacect outfits, a few less in dark greens and Deep trademarked Love the Ocean like the Earth and Fish and Man are One shirts, and exactly one, a bouncing little girl with a tutu and big eyes, wearing a Homelander cape.

You look back down at the cap and jacket—which is a few sizes too big—and realize both were made by Uought International, and that Noir has been spelled as Noire. Looking up, you see that Butcher has pulled a Quen Maeve sweatshirt over his shirt, and is wearing green-tinted sunglasses that have little, blue Soldier Boy brand symbols along the frame.

“You shouldn’t wear those,” you point to your nose, mirroring where the sunglasses sit on Butcher’s face.

“Why, Love, you want them so you can feel close to Ben?” He mocks, and you roll your eyes.

“No, dumbass. Right now Soldier Boy is a dead American traitor who’s going to rise from the dead and commit an act of terrorism in like, seven minutes. It’s not smart to wear anything associated with him to ‘blend in’, especially if you’re pairing it with an off brand shirt of the woman who sacrificed herself to save the world from him.”

“You know just as bloody as well as me that Maeve is picking dandelions in California.”

“Yeah, and Soldier Boy isn’t dead, he’s in the van, probably trying to blackmail Hughie into buying him drugs. The internet is a liar sometimes.”

Butcher pulls off the sunglasses with a scowl and a dirty look in your direction before dropping them on your Noire jacket. “Put on your clothes so we can get a fucking move on. We wanna get outta here before Soldier Boy sees you and carries you back to the bloody van.”

You wrinkle your nose at him and pretend you don’t hear the questioning contempt of his voice, shoving the sunglasses into your back pocket before you pull on the jacket. You give Butcher a nod and step out into the current of the street.

The walk to Firecracker’s stage is silent, both you and Butcher angling your heads down from the crowd, down from the blue, cloudless sky and anyone who may be in it. The sun beats down a warmth that is only offset by the biting of the wind, and Firecracker’s voice, projected by speakers to carry over the horns and shouts of the city, starts to claw into your head.

“Patriots, are you ready to know the truth about Starlight and how she’s been kidnapping and trafficking your innocent babies?!” Her voice has the same southern drawl you’ve heard on TV, her bubbly tone in stark contrast to her words. “We’re lucky we have Homelander lookin out for us, keepin us safe, otherwise Starlight might try to take us too!”

You drop your head further, some fearful part of your brain telling you that Homelander might hear his name from the Tower and decide to make an appearance.

Fucking risky, Ben’s voice says in your head, and suddenly you can see him in your head, that strange, angered and piercing face watching you. What if fucking Homelander’s there, Sunshine? Then what? You’ll freeze up, and I won’t be there to help.

I’ll manage, you snap back at his voice, and can almost hear his scoff.

You’ll start crying and wish I was there. You wish I was there right now. You hate that you’re walking with Butcher, who’s probably going to try and kill you instead of me.

Butcher won’t kill me. He can’t.

Never stopped him from trying before. I wouldn’t let him, Sunshine.

I’m stronger than Butcher. I’m stronger than you. I’m stronger than fucking Homelander. I don’t need your help.

But you fucking want it.

“No, I don’t!” You hiss, and only realize you’ve spoken aloud when the words come out strained, caught on a lump that has formed in our throat.

You hear Butcher snort from your side. “Who the bloody hell are you talking to?”

“No one,” you mumble, feeling your face heat as you feel his disbelieving look.

“If you’re going to lose your damn mind and go all mental, you can wait until all this is done? Would be real bloody inconvenient to have to kill you ahead of schedule.”

“Not funny.” You mutter, and are saved from Butcher’s response by arriving at the crowd, stopping next to where MM watches the show in an A-Trane shirt.

“He behind you?” MM says by way of greeting, voice barely raised over the children’s choir rendition of God Bless the USA, complete with trumpet and string accompaniment.

“Should be,” Butcher looks over the heads of the audience, scanning for something that he doesn’t seem to find. “Frenchie gonna be ready when Soldier Boy gets here?”

“Kimiko got them up on a roof across the street, and Annie will get him the electricity he needs when it happens.”

You glance behind you, hoping that Hughie can manage to keep Ben in the van a few minutes more. “We should move,” you say, turning back to MM. “We don’t want to be anywhere near the path to the stage.”

MM nods and begins to lead you and Butcher deeper into the crowd, weaving through the frenzied cheers and whoops as the choir walks off the stage. You stop at the edge of the crowd, off to side enough to avoid any crossfire, but with Firecracker still in a clear line of sight.

She’s staring down the camera, her toothy and smug smile projected on a Jumbotron as she speaks. “I don’t know about y’all, but I think Starlight should come down here and tell us why! Why she won’t show us any proof of her claims that Homelander is a murderer! When, need I remind y’all, Homelander was found innocent! Has Starlight been found innocent?” You watch her cup her ear, listening for the crowds shouted responses.

“Jesus Christ, she has to know this is bullshit, right?” You mutter to yourself, and MM chuckles beside you.

“As far as I can tell, she really believes all the bullshit she’s saying.” He says with a shake of his head. “She got this job cause her head was up Homelander’s ass for free, she ain’t gonna pull it out now that Vought’s paying.”

You hum, looking up at the sky nervously. “MM, has Hughie texted that Ben-“

You’re cut off as screams sound from down the street, and your head shoots to where you had just stood, watching as the crowd beings to franticly part for something you can’t yet see. Butcher and MM are stiff beside you, Butcher’s gun already in his hand as MM’s lingers at his hip. Firecracker’s voice has faltered through the speakers, her eyes wide and face slack on the Jumbotron. The feeling in you, the ardor against your spine and clawing at your skin, begins, and you try not to watch the sky. The sun is bright and there are no city lights, the only thing you can hear is the terrified people, but Homelander’s not here, so you’ll be fine.

The feeling is in your blood and gut, but you’ll be fine.

You’ll be fine.

Are you sure about that? Ben’s voice says in your head.

Shut up. You tell it, just as Firecracker lets out a shrill sound that echos down the streets.

You look up and find Ben has gotten to the foot of the stage, only his side profile visible to you. Firecracker has a shaking finger pointing at him, her mouth agape as she watches him walk closer, closer, closer. You hadn’t been sure what to expect once it began. For Firecracker to scream, beg, cry, fight, run, or collapse once it became that her life was gone from her hands. Of all the scenarios you’d traced, all the outcomes with more blood, less blood, more scream or quick silence, you hadn’t thought she start to laugh. Doubled over, cackling glee, tears in her eyes visible on the Jumbotron.

“Well, look here, folks! No need to be afraid, it’s going to be just fine! Soldier Boy here’s a guest, and he’s going to tell us all about how Starlight tricked him and forced him to fake his death!”

You watch Ben freeze on stage, and the Jumbotron begins to broadcast his tight, angered face to the steadily regrouping audience.

“Fuck,” MM breathes out. “They’re going to flip him.”

Butcher says your name roughly. “You need to get there, get him in bloody line. We can’t have him running off with Vought.”

You need to move. Every part of you is screaming that you need to go, go, get there and remind Ben that you’re watching and keeping him in check. But you can’t, frozen as you watch his movements on the Jumbotron, trying to keep control when your blood has run cold, and every breath you take is caught against that lump in your throat. You can’t move, and all you can do is watch him on stage, eyes scanning the crowd as he watches them look at him in awe.

Then your falling forward, barely managing to catch your footing before your knees hit the pavement, turning to see MM on the phone speaking in a commanding, measured tone, and Butcher reaching forward to push you once more. You take another, smoother step back before he can, but you don’t wait for him to bark an order for you to go. You turn back to the crowd with the bass of the speakers barely drowning feeling, trying to weave without touching anyone as it grows and grows.

You’re at the base of the stage now, and before you can start to figure out a subtle way to alert him, his eyes lock with yours.

What the fuck is happening. His gaze asks at it runs through you, his body turned as though he may start to move in your direction, and Firecracker's voice rings the air.

“Lovely, you brought her too!” Both you and Ben turn to where she stands, smiling and looking at you. “Our very special guest, The Anomaly!”

Your blood isn’t cold. It’s burning, everything is burning inside of you, scraping to get out. But there are people moving around you now, people everywhere, and someone is nudging you forwards to the stage until a smiling face is pulling you up and moving you right next to Ben. It’s so bright, and you’re burning, and when you turn your head out to the crowd, you see yourself. Up on the Jumbotron. And there are cameras. Cameras everywhere. Cameras that are following your movements as Firecracker speaks.

“I know ya’ll don’t recognize her, she hasn’t been around for as long as this patriot!” Your eyes tear from the screen just in time to see Firecracker playfully slap Ben’s arm, to watch his whole body go rigid as she did. “But she’s a real good friend, and she and Homelander go way back!”

You’re cold again. Cold and angry and sharp. Everything is sharp again, the faces of the audience are clear, and Firecracker’s words are no longer miles away. No, she’s right in front of you with a wide smile of teeth, and you can hear drums.

Drums.

You look down, and your foot is bumped against Ben’s. His eyes aren’t watching you anymore, fixed on Firecracker, but everything sharp in him, in you, is pointed at her.

“If fact,” Firecracker has turned back to the crowd, hands placed over her heart with a simpering face. “She and Homelander? Well they were childhood sweethearts! Supes, raised together, only having each other. And when Homelander went off to become our great hero, she stepped away from the spotlight.” Firecracker takes a large step back, turning back to you. “She didn’t want the fame. She just wanted him!”

A chorus of sickly sweet awwws ripples through the crowd, and the feeling is behind your eyes.

“Homelander was, is, the love of her life. Which is why, when Starlight and her team of devil-worshippers came to kill her, The Anomaly fought with all she had to stop them.”

It’s under your nails.

“She wasn’t strong enough, though, and they dragged her away from where Homelander had been keeping her safe to let her bleed out, far away from the man she loved.”

It’s on your teeth.

“Love that kept her alive, love that made her find another who had been wronged, another who would do anything for Homelander-“

Firecracker makes a gesturing sweep to Ben, and the world begins to blur.

“Soldier Boy! And now they’re here, to reunite with their lover, their son, and have the happy endings they deserve!”

The feeling is everywhere. Ben is pressed closely against you, and the drums are in your ribs. Firecracker is still smiling and her teeth are so white. The crowd is cheering and whooping and you’re going to crack-

Something smashes off the stage, and Firecracker’s smile drops. You make yourself follow her gaze, the movement like moving through mud, and see smashed cameras at MM’s feet. Gunshots ring out, and something above you shatters as Butcher appears, gun raised.

Firecracker’s face has contorted, cheery persona vaporized and she starts to shout in a furious wail.

“No! My cameras! My show- Do you have any idea how hard that speech was to memorize?! I worked so hard, and you ruined it you fucking-“

She flys across the stage, Ben taking large, violent strides to where she lands with a crack. You can see her fear when she looks up to where he stops above her, the light growing in his chest.

“Help!” She screams, looking around at the stage audience and tech workers. “He’s- he’s fucking crazy, he’s going to kill me! Someone- someone fucking stop him!”

The stage audience.

The tech workers.

You’re running. Words aren’t fast enough, and Ben’s too far gone for them anyway. You are, though. You’re flying, tearing across the stage and throwing yourself against Ben. He falls to the ground, the light still building, and twists to try and throw you off of him, his eyes so deep into himself you don’t think he knows it’s you.

Pressed against him, you can only feel the drums, and you brace yourself as the light in him explodes.

It’s painful. A blinding and unforgiving pain that sears through your body. Numbness follows behind it though, fast and empty relief, and when your eyes can see once more Ben is watching you with horror across every feature.

He looks like he’s going to roar at you, tear into and across you. You can feel fury and something deep into his chest that’s screaming.

Firecracker lets out a breathy, sobbing laugh from somewhere to your side, and even if nothing in him wavers, it saves you from whatever Ben was going to say.

“Shit, you're both pathetic. You can’t even take out one person?” Firecracker starts to pull herself up to her feet. “I don’t know why Homelander was so worried about y’all. You’re weak.” She reaches down, grabbing the back of your tattered Noire jacket and pulling you off of Ben. “I mean, I expected more from at least you, Soldier Boy. He looks up to you still, you know. Was so hopeful you’d flip. But,” she shakes her head sadly. “What a disappointment.”

You’re not sure how it happens, let alone where the energy comes from, but you twist in Firecracker’s hold and punch her square in the face. She drops her hold, stumbling back as her nose starts to fill with blood. You never hit the floor though, Ben’s arm looping around your waist as he draws himself upwards.

Everything is sharp and hungry anger that is driving in you—in Ben—to Firecracker. The thing in his chest is still clawing at him, and you can feel your own glacial fervor, but nothing is as strong as the hungry anger.

Firecracker doesn’t feel it though, the storm that's brewing. And she doesn’t know when to quit.

“You worthless bitch.” She sneers through her fingers, trying to plug the blood. “You frigid little whore.”

“Watch it.” Ben growls, arm tensing around your waist.

“Oh, fuck off, you fossil! She’s tricking you, sinking her little claws into her like she did Homelander, with her stupid little songs and dances!”

“Shut up,” the words don’t come out in the firm command you wanted. Your voice sounds pathetic, weak against your ears.

“Do you have any idea how fucking exhausting you’ve been?” Firecracker whines. “Everything was amazing until you came back. He was starting to trust me! And then Sage comes back, accuses Homelander of lyin to her, and says you’re alive. And all of a sudden that’s all that fucking matters! He’s just angry and hurt and it’s so annoying.”

The world is less focused.

“I’ve heard Moon River so many fucking times this week, it makes my skin fucking crawl. I don’t even get it! What can you do that I can’t? I want him, you don’t even care to stick around-“

Nothing is in focus. It’s only Firecracker, her voice, and the feeling.

“I love him, I am perfect for him, I am blessed and chosen and you’re just a lonely little stuck up slut who didn’t even wait after leaving him and everything he did for you-“

Her teeth are so white and you don't think you can breathe.

“Everything he gave you-“

You can feel ghosts of the pain, see the bright light as they push the fire into you. Can feel it now, trying to get out.

“To turn around and spread your fucking whore legs!”

Something in you snaps. Cracks, echoes through your body, and explodes. You’re everywhere, the fire bleeding from you. You can’t see anything but the white room around you, and you have to get out. So you let everything go. It’s just you and the fire, cocooning around you and keeping you safe.

Just you and the fire and something else that is gripping around you. Something in your chest that is thrashing and trying to keep you close. It feels safe too, so you let it stay as everything else continues to burn.

A deep, roaring voice is calling your name. It sounds like the thing in your chest, and it reverberates through you as if it’s pressed against you. There are screams too, broken and raw screams, but you can’t see where they’re coming from, and they don’t feel safe like the voice.

The thing gripping around you feels heavier. It feels safer. There’s no city lights, you can’t even really remember what they might look like, but there’s music. Soft and deep in your ear, wrapping around you. Putting something out along your skin. You’re getting weak, and you feel cold.

You can’t stop. Something in your head tells you. You falter, and you’re back in the room.

But you’re so tired. The grip feels safe. And the music is settling into you and feels so good.

So when the world goes black, the last thing you feel is the thing in your chest reaching for you, and you could swear it breathes in relief.

————

He’d figured it out. The tapping. Firecracker had said Moon River, and he’d realized that was it. The rhythm of the verses matched that incessant tapping of Hers perfectly. He’d taken a fucking gamble, dragging the verses from somewhere deep in his brain as she’d been consumed by the fire, and it had paid off when She’d collapsed into him. The fire still lingered long after She closed her eyes, long after Ben stopped humming. Most of the stage was ash, from the hollowed, disgusting bodies of Firecracker and a few unfortunate audience members to the still flaming stage curtains.

Ben picked her up, and her eyes didn’t even flutter. Her body was still burning, and his hands protested in pain against her skin, but he bit down his pain with ease. Ben wasn’t a pussy, and he’d heal. This was more important.

A thought that had everything in him—except the feeling he’d been keeping in his gut that had somehow managed to crawl into his chest—very fucking irritated.

Ben turned, carrying Her off the stage to get her as far away from here as possible, only to find both MM and Butcher waiting, guns pointed right at his face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growled. They didn’t have any fucking time for these dramatics. As far as he fucking understood from Her explanations, all that shit show had just been broadcast through the fucking nation. Homelander was probably on his way, and Ben wouldn’t be able to do his fucking job and wipe the floor with that pussy if She was still unconscious and the stupid fucking thing in his chest was worried.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Gov.” Butcher jeered back. “We’re not letting you off that bloody easy.”

Ben glowered at him, and his desire to throw Butcher against the nearest concrete wall was only barely defeated by the godforsaken need to get Her somewhere safe. “We don’t have fucking time for this. Move out of my fucking way, or I’ll make you.”

“Take your best fucking shot, cunt.” Butcher taunted.

“Last fucking chance to get out of my way.” Ben could hear the hitch in both their hearts, uneven from the growing steadiness in Hers.

“We ain’t moving, Soldier Boy.” MM angled his gun higher. “And you’re not taking her.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you fucking pussies!” Ben roared, whatever patience he’d managed to hold onto vanished. “Homelander is probably on his fucking way, and unless you want him to take her, we need to fucking leave right fucking now!”

Both men blink, Ben’s words hanging in the air just long enough that he was starting to get ready to just fucking push through them. He’d deal with Her anger about it later, when she was awake and they were far fucking away from cages and boxes.

But MM lowered his gun, narrowing his eyes at Ben. “You’re going to let us take you back to the safe house?” His voice had a tone of disbelief that Ben didn’t fucking appreciate.

“Fucking hell, yes. Now fucking move your dumb fucking asses before I change my fucking mind!”

MM looked over at Butcher, whose gun was still aimed at Ben’s head. “The kid’s bringing the van round?”

“He bloody should be.“ Butcher grunted, but didn’t move. “But that don’t mean shit, I ain’t trusting this cunt to go quietly.”

“I’m certainly not going to go quietly if you keep a fucking gun in my face.” Ben sneered. “I might not do jackshit to me, but it’s goddamn rude when I’m trying to fucking help.”

“Why should we trust that?” MM asked coldly, glancing down at Her in Ben’s arms. “This is your ticket out. You’re probably just going to kill us in the van while she’s still out.”

Ben fucking knew that, he wasn’t an fucking idiot. He could hear Her heartbeat, fully steady as sleep held her under, could feel the scalding heat of her body almost fully faded. When he glanced down at her face, it painted into an empty ease. But when he blinked, it would flash back to just before she’d burst. Afraid. Only pure terror on Her face as Firecracker screamed about Homelander.

She wasn’t going back there.

“I guess you’re going to have to take a fucking gamble.” Ben held MM’s stare. “Because you have five seconds to fucking move before I kill both you pussies and leave with her.”

Some part of Ben still managed to be surprised when they exchanged one last, tense look, MM’s eyes flaring at Butcher, who dropped his gun with an angry huff. When MM started to walk away, likely to where Cocksucker waited with the van, and Butcher only said, “Breathe one wrong breath, Soldier Boy, and I’ll put you right back under.”

Ben wanted to. He wanted to step just far out enough of line that he’d be justified in bashing Butcher’s smug, pussy fucking head against the curb. But he didn’t, just keeping Her in place against him until they were back at the safe house, glaring at the whole sorry fucking lot of Her team as they watched Ben hold Her in the corner. Her heartbeat stayed steady, and it kept the drum in him from bursting, aided by the thing in his chest settling back into him the more distance grew between Her and the stage, Vought Tower, and Homelander.

When they reached the safe house, Ben didn’t bother to pause, waiting only for Butcher to open the door, before he was moving through the hall in tight, bounding steps. Up the stairs, shoving the door to Her room open, laying her on the bed above her sheets. She let out a little sigh as he let her go, and Ben hated how it made the thing in his chest wake up. He had to get himself under fucking control. She was safe, he’d done what he fucking needed to, and he wasn’t about to be a goddamn creep and watch her sleep.

The seconds were starting to stretch though, as he watched Her, listened to the steady sound of her heart. She looked so fucking peaceful, and it was calming the thing in his chest.

Fuck, he didn’t like how easy it felt. Especially as she let out another small sigh, rolling over with an arm stretching out, and he wanted to touch her upturned palm. That realization snapped him out of whatever stupid fucking trance he’d been dragged into, and he managed to turn, walking towards the door.

Before he left though—practically against his will—he turned back just in time to hear another sigh and see Her body curl into the mattress.

“Sleep well, Sunshine.” He muttered and tried to ignore the last sigh released from her chest, and how if ran through him.

When Ben got down to the kitchen, goddamn fucking Cocksucker and Starlight were waiting for him.

“What are you cum guzzlers still fucking doing here?” He grumbled, pushing past them to get to the pantry.

“Is she ok?” Cocksucker asked, and Ben shrugged, grabbing a bag of half-eaten jerky from the top shelf.

“She’ll fucking live.” He ignored the flash of Her fearful face in his head, and how his grip on the bag turned to steel. “One of you better answer my goddamn question.”

“We need to talk to her,” Starlight said softly.

“Don’t hold your fucking breath, she’s out cold.” Ben snapped.

Starlight sighed. “We’ll wait.”

“No, you won’t.” Ben turned around to face her. “She needs to fucking rest.”

“Cocksucker look between Starlight and Ben nervously. “We need to make sure-“

“She did you a fucking favor.” Ben growled. “Firecracker’s not a problem anymore, and her stupid plan fucking worked.”

“She killed four people.” Starlight said tightly. “And after Ashley, we need to know that she’s still with us.”

“With you?” Ben scoffed, saying Her name in the same exasperated tone. “Her? You think she’s going to turn against you fucking pussies?”

“She’s- she’s been weird.” Cocksucker stuttered. “And you’ve gotten closer than we thought-“

“Fuck off.” Ben snorted. “I haven’t turned her, if that’s what your dumb little pea-brains think.”

“We’re not who you have to convince, Soldier Boy.” Starlight watched Ben with a frown. “I trust her. Hughie trusts her.”

“Then what the fuck-“

“Butcher,” Cocksucker said softly. “MM. Mallory. They’re worried she’s going to be a liability.”

“Then they can come fucking tell me their fucking selves.” Ben hissed. “Now get the fuck out.”

Starlight looked like she was going to push back, and Ben was ready to throw her through the door himself, but Cocksucker placed his hand on her back, and something passed silently between them.

“Fine,” Starlight sighed, giving Ben one last, tired look. “If you promise to tell us when she’s awake, I can try and hold them off.” Her eyes narrowed. “For her.”

Ben grunted. “Deal.”

And they were gone, and Ben was alone in the kitchen.

She didn’t wake up for three full days. Three, long, insufferably quiet days where it was just Ben. Three days of pacing, of eating alone, of watching TV all through the damn night because he couldn’t sleep even if he fucking tried. Three days of the awful thing in his chest making up stupid excuse to open the door to her room and check to see if she had vanished. She never had, she would always be twisted on the bed, heart steady, face empty. At some point Ben moved Her under the covers, after he made up an excuse to touch her and found her not burning like he’d been checking for, but freezing cold. Three long days of wishing She was awake, reminding himself he didn’t fucking need Her awake, and the thing in his chest roaring that he did.

He tried to push it down, and almost succeeded, but at the end of the second day he walked downstairs from where he’d been standing outside her door for a disgustingly long time—finally managing to not push in and check on her—to find Butcher in the living room.

“She’s still out.” Ben had grunted, and Butcher had only shrugged.

“I ain’t here for her. We need to have a little chat.”

“I’m good.”

“I wasn’t bloody asking.”

Ben remembered wondering in the moment if he was already in enough hot water that killing Butcher wouldn’t really matter. “You’re playing a game you can’t fucking win.” He’d warned, and even Butcher’s heart hadn’t stuttered.

“I’ll be out of your hair in a flash, Gov. But not until you fucking listen.” Butcher managed to have more intelligence than Ben thought him capable of, and didn’t wait to hear Ben’s answer before he began. “Her plan, somehow, bloody worked. Most of the media coverage is sayin that Firecracker started panicking and lying to try and keep herself alive. You’re being label as a crazed lunatic, out for revenge.”

“Then what’s the fucking problem-“

“Her. Everyone’s buying the story about Her and Homelander, thinkin you kidnapped her after we tried to kill her.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t even make any fucking sense.”

“Don’t need to make sense. It’s the narrative Vought got, and they’re running with it. As far as the public knows, you’re back, out for bloody and evil revenge, and are holding her hostage to hurt Homelander.” Butcher narrowed his eyes at Ben. “And they’ve reached out. They want to meet with you.”

“They?” Ben paused, ready to grab Butcher’s tongue and make him stop talking in fucking riddles. “Who the fuck is they?”

“Vought.” Butcher said shortly. “Sage. Homelander.”

Ben snorted. “Fuck no. We’re not bringing her anywhere near that goddamn pussy and his conniving bitch.”

“Good thing they only want to talk to you, then, ain’t it.”

That made Ben pause, eyes narrowing at Butcher as suspicion had begun to build in his chest. “The fuck are you talking about.”

“One hour, a truce, just you, me, Starlight, Homelander, and Sage. At the old Starlight Fund building. Just talking.”

Ben snorted. “You dumb enough to believe that?”

“Nope. But you agree, it happens.”

Ben grunted. He didn’t trust any of it. He didn’t trust Homelander to have no ulterior motive. He didn’t trust Sage to not be plotting something. He didn’t trust Butcher to not have a fucking trick up his stupid fucking Hawaiian shirt. “And if don’t.”

Butcher shrugged. “Then this conversation never happened.”

Ben had said your name carefully, trying to feel out whatever it was he fucking knew Butcher was hiding. “What about her?”

“She’d stay here.”

Ben raised his brows at that. “You’d trust me without her?”

“Fucking hell, no. Not if hell bloody froze over. Don’t trust you with her. We’d set up something to make you go night-night if you get all nuclear. CIA got more than enough gas to put you under, they can spare some for our lovely uses.”

“How long does the offer stand?” Ben asked, pushing down the drum.

Butcher had shrugged. “Until you give an answer.”

“I’ll think about it.” Ben said. “Now get the fuck out.”

Butcher chuckled dryly. “Alright, Gov. Keep your damn pants on.” As Butcher walked, hands in pockets, down the hall, he paused as he passed Ben, and shoved something into his hands. “She dropped those on her way to the stage. Good luck when she wakes up, Mate. I’d keep her away from the telly.”

Ben had looked down at what Butcher had given him as the man walked away, brow furrowing at what he found.

Shitty, off-brand Soldier Boy sunglasses.

Ben had placed them in his room to give to Her later. But another full day had passed before she woke up, and Ben’s mind had not stilled the whole fucking time.

He hadn’t been lying. Ben thought about Butcher’s—Homelander’s—offer. Constantly. Starting with the fact that he didn’t have a goddamn thing to say to Homelander. The shock of their relation had long passed, fading into a numbness of just another fucking job for Ben to do, just another way in which he had to be alone. Then the numbness had been replaced by a blinding wrath. A disgust from what he had done. Ben wasn’t a saint, saints were weak, self-righteous whiners. But he wasn’t a fucking monster. He did what had to be done, and a little more to make sure he didn’t have to do it again. He didn’t take women and lock them in cages. He didn’t hurt people until the singular thought of him made them afraid. People fear Ben, yes. But just as much as they should.

Ben didn’t fear Homelander. She didn’t fear Ben. But She feared Homelander. A weak, fucking pathetic man who had needed to break someone stronger than him, someone worth more than him powerless, to feel big. She was worth so much more than Homelander that she wanted to help people. Worth so much more that she still somehow looked at the world and found it worth something. She found worth in fucking everything. Everything was amusing to Her, everything was beautiful, everything had value and meaning. Ben fucking hated it. It leaked into him, and felt fucking strange. Because he could hear Her in his head, saying Pretty Boy, this is an opportunity. Don’t be a petty baby and waste it.

And that was where the thoughts would loop. Ben didn’t want to talk to Homelander. Homelander had hurt Her and Ben never would. She’d find a way to use this, though, and She’d want him to go. But Ben didn’t want to talk to Homelander. Over and over until Ben heard Her heartbeat stutter, heard shuffling around in Her room, and had to fight the thing roaring in his chest to sprint up the stairs. He somehow managed to remain seated on the couch, everything in him fucking strained to stay in place as she tapped down the stairs and cleared her throat behind him.

Ben turned to find Her watching him with eyes still crusted from sleep. When She spoke, her voice was hoarse, and her words were quiet.

“How long was I out?”

“Few days.” Ben answered, trying to watch her passively, to pretend he wasn’t studying her every feature. He wasn’t even fucking sure what he was looking for himself.

“What-“ She took a deep breath. “What happened?”

Ben paused, finding her eyes again. Keep her away from the telly, Butcher had said, and Ben had immediately checked to see what the fuck he was talking about. He’d found the answer fast: photos of Firecracker’s scorched body, interviews with the families of the audience members who had met the same fate. Speculation about what Ben was doing to Her, fabricated “evidence” of Her and Homelander’s love. A complete, well-developed, entirely bullshit story about her life. Born in the same hometown as Homelander, happily giving up her life to support him, working instead behind the scenes in Vought marketing and cooking in her free time.

Homelander didn’t have a hometown, that pussies whole story was even more bullshit Vought propaganda than Ben’s was.

She wouldn’t “give up her life” to support anyone. And if she did, they’d have to hear her bitch about it until they fucking died.

Ben had once heard her call marketing “a plague upon human culture and societal development” during the third commercial break of one of his football games.

Everyone would know if She had tried to cook Homelander food, because it would’ve killed him.

Butcher had wanted Ben to lie. But Ben fucking knew She wouldn’t have lied to him. And he knew She would find out the truth somehow and be a real bitch about Ben lying to her.

“Three audience members and Firecracker died. You passed out. We got back here.”

“Oh,” she said softly, but didn’t look away, and Ben could see something fragile in her eyes fracture. Hear the taps of Moon River begin. “What are they saying?”

“They?”

“Vought.”

“Your plan worked.” Ben grunted, and the rhythm of Her heart told him she knew there was more. “But Firecracker’s bullshit stuck. I’m being painted as a revenge-blind maniac, and you’re being painted as my victim.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “If anything, you’re my victim.”

Ben felt his mouth twitch. “That’s what I keep fucking saying.”

She let out another, smaller huff of amusement before her face fell back into that soft state, her eyes still tired as she watched him. “That’s all?”

He nodded. “That’s all.”

She gave one last sigh, and it sounded so weak. He wanted to grab her and figure out a way to make her move. Get her to sit next to him and laugh so the fucking thing in his chest would let go of his lungs. Before he could, though, she turned and padded back up the stairs, her door closing behind her.

Another day passed before Ben even fucking saw her again. She’d slunk into the kitchen around dinner, hair tangled and eyes hollow, heating up a box-meal before placing it on a plate and carrying it back upstairs. The next day was the same, and Ben had tried to grab her and make her fucking talk to him, and she'd stared at him with a wide, empty gaze.

“We need to fucking talk.” He’d grunted.

“Please don’t.” Her voice had been so fucking quiet.

“Don’t what?” He’d growled. “Fucking talk to you? You’re just going to never fucking talk to me again?”

She’d given a small shake of her head. “I don’t want to talk. Please.”

“You’re being fucking weird.”

“Please.” She’d sounded desperate. “I can’t talk. Please.”

He’d never heard her say please so many times. He’d only seen her like this, a weak and fearful girl, once.

He’d hated it on the Neuman mission. He hated it now.

He hated she looked weaker now. Hopeless. He hated how he relented, let go of her, and she’d gone back upstairs and didn’t come back down. Two more days passed, and the only way Ben knew she was alive was the sounds of music coming from her room and the food that vanished from the kitchen overnight.

Ben was going to lose his fucking mind. The last time she’d avoided him this much had been the beginning, and, fuck, that had been better than this. She’s seen him and fought with him, tearing him to pieces as he did the same to her. Stood her fucking ground against him, a completely insufferable, violent, angry bitch of a woman. Even after they’d called truce on their war, she’d remained a powerfully wrathful, unrelenting pain in Ben’s ass. Now she wouldn’t stand in the same fucking room as him, and he was going to go fucking insane.

So, on the fifth day, Ben banged down her door, ready to demand she fucking tell him who to kill to fix this.

He found her curled in her bed, staring far ahead into nothing. Something hit his nose that he forced himself to ignore, and she didn’t even move as he pushed into the room.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked gruffly. She didn’t answer, so he said her name roughly. “What’s fucking wrong with you?”

“Why did you do it?” Her voice was light—frail—as she stared ahead.

“Do fucking what?”

She finally looked at him. “Why did you go back, with Sage, why did you fucking do that?”

“I saved your life, Sunshine. And you never even fucking thanked me.” Ben knew his words were cruel, shooting to hurt Her. But maybe she’d fucking fight him. Fucking do something that wasn’t just fucking sitting there.

“You should’ve left me.” She whispered, Ben rolled his eyes, and her voice raised. Not to a scream, but a high-pitched, frantic tone of desperation. “You should’ve! You should’ve left me and run! You could’ve been free, why did you do that! Why! You should’ve just fucking left me!”

This was worse, Ben knew. So much fucking worse. “Why are you being so fucking dramatic-“

“You should’ve left me to die!” She screamed. “You should’ve just left me to die! Why didn’t you just let me fucking die?!”

Ben stared at Her as she started to cry, shaking on the bed, trying to push herself further back into its frame. She’d tucked her head into her arms, sobs wracking through her whole body as she held herself, fingers digging into her skin. No smoke was rising, no tapping or chewing, just Her tears falling as she let out another, broken scream. Ben was frozen, he didn’t know how to fucking deal with this. Fuck, he barely knew how to deal with Her when she wasn’t breaking down in front of him.

Through sobs, Ben heard Her say it again. “It would be better if you had just let me die.”

Ben didn’t need the thing in his chest to tell him to move. He crossed the room in two long steps, dropping on the bed next Her.

“Look at me.” She didn’t, so Ben grabbed her wrists and pulled them down. “Sunshine, fucking look at me.”

She glanced down at where he still held her and blinked, letting out a stuttered breath. Her voice was still so weak when she spoke, “What?”

“Fucking look at me.” He growled one last time, and she finally did, her eyes still so empty. “You’re being fucking stupid.”

She gaped at him, disbelief finally filling her expression. It wasn’t the amusement or rage Ben wanted back, but it was something.

“What?’

“You’re being a goddamn idiot. Things would…” The words vomited out of him. “Be a lot fucking worse if you were dead.”

She shook her head, the hopeless looking creeping back. “I killed four people, they’d still be alive-“

"Maybe.” Ben grunted. “Maybe not. But they, along with a few more, would still be dead if you hadn’t knocked me down. Which was even fucking stupider than you’re being now, but we’ll fix that later.”

“Fix that?” She gave him a sharp look, words still choked. “I thought we agreed not to fix each other.”

“You agreed not to fix me. I made no such fucking promises.”

There was a silence for a second before She spoke again. “I don’t want you to ‘fix me’. I want to care that I…” Her stuttered, and she took another shaky breath before pushing them out. “I hurt people.”

“That’s to job, Sunshine.”

“I don’t care,” she whispered. “I didn’t even want the job anyway.”

Ben watched her, wrists still in his hands, face faraway, and eyes still lined with tears. An image flashed in front of him, of Her a few years younger, singing karaoke and crying about stupid, normal shit. Something Ben himself had never done, something Ben wouldn’t even know how to miss. The image lingered in his head, her smile carefree, singing loudly and off-key, no blood on her hands, and the thing in his chest was angry.

“Ben?” She said softly, and the image vanished. “I’m sorry.”

He scowled. “Why are you fucking apologizing to me?”

“You don’t want to deal with this, with me. It’s not- it’s not useful to cry over spilled milk-“

“Shut up,” he snapped. “No, it’s not useful. For me. For Butcher. For Homelander. You get to whine over it, because-“

“Because I’m a woman?” She asked dryly, and he glared at her.

“No, smartass. Because you’re not like us. You didn’t fucking choose this.”

“You didn’t choose that,” she nodded to his chest. “Do you get to cry?”

“I don’t cry.” He said firmly, and She tilted her head at him in a way he didn’t like. “But I get to be angry. You get to be angry. And if you need to have a little breakdown to be angry, then so fucking be it.”

“But I killed people-“

Ben rolled his eyes. “Three Homelander supporters and Firecracker. Real fucking contributors to society, I’m sure.”

“They were still people.” She pushed. “People who I killed. People who would be alive-”

“If you say ‘if you were dead’, I’ll kill you myself.” Ben snapped.

She stared at him in disbelief and something harsher flickered in Her eyes. Fucking finally.

“I’d like to see you fucking try, Pretty Boy.”

He huffed a laugh. “I’ll wipe the floor with your ass, Sunshine.”

“I’ll make you regret crawling out of your mother in the first place, cunt.” She taunted, and Ben felt a wide grin on his face.

“I’m sure you will, you bitch.” Ben gave her a sweeping look. Her matted hair, tear crusted and red eyes, the smell he’d been pushing down starting to feel fucking visible. “But you need to fucking shower first, you smell like the shit you’ve been wallowing in.”

She glared at him, and for a second Ben thought she’d keep fighting him, or worse, start crying again, but she just gave a light tug against where he still held her.

“Can’t fucking shower if you won’t let me move, Ben.” She said flatly, and Ben rolled his eyes as he let go.

“Fucking drama queen,” he muttered, and She gave him a sarcastic, toothy smile as she stood.

“Eat me.”

“I would if you’d let me, Sunshine.” He called after Her, and though she closed the door with a slam, Ben still heard her heart flutter.

He waited as the water ran and tried not to think about Her, naked, in just the other room. Tried not to think about the relief the thing in his chest had felt when she’d stopped crying, the satisfaction it felt when he’d gotten her to laugh, and the stupid fucking anger it had felt at everything when she’d broken in front of him. He didn’t let himself dwell on the way it made him sit here. Fucking waiting for her like a lost goddamn puppy. Wanting to make sure she was okay. She was fine, she wasn’t sobbing and screaming, so she was fucking fine.

But what if She’s not, you fucking ass? The thing growled. What if she’s just waiting for you to leave?

Ben fucking hated that it worked, and he stayed on the bed.

What if She needs you? It hissed. What if she wants you to stay?

Ben loathed that even more. Because it echoed in his brain, and made him listen intently for any sounds of distress over the water, made him sit rigid and alert until the door opened.

She walked out, a towel wrapped around her body. She blinked at him once, and Ben couldn’t fucking figure out if she was even surprised he was there.

“Clothes,” she mumbled, walking to her dresser. Ben grunted, and watched her return to the bathroom, the door closing behind her once more.

Maybe he should go now. It was late, it had been a weird, long fucking day. He should fucking go and put some distance between the thing in his stupid fucking chest and Her-

The door opened, and She walked over to drop back on the bed, a small smile on her face.

“You’re real shit at comforting people, Pretty Boy.”

Fine. He’d fucking stay.

“Good.” Ben grunted. “And it fucking worked on you. Didn’t even get a damn ‘thank you.’”

He felt Her hand on his arm, and looked at her face, soft and open. “Thank you.”

He grunted again, staring back at the wall, and she chuckled.

“I mean, it was still a shit job, but it was so shit it looped around into being remarkably effective.”

“Doesn’t count as a damn thank you, Sunshine, if you fucking insult me right after.”

She shrugged. “Then do a better fucking job next time, Pretty Boy.”

Ben snorted. “Don’t hold your damn breath.” She didn’t respond, and he turned to find Her watching him, lips in a thin frown with her brow gently wrinkled. “I can hear the fucking gears in your head, Sunshine.” He said. “Say what you’re fucking thinking.”

“I’m going to ask you something once. If your answer is no, you’re not allowed to talk about it again.”

Ben frowned. Every time she started a question with a phrase like that, it ended up being something fucking insane. “Okay.” He said shortly, morbid curiosity getting the better of him.

“If you want, you don’t have to, and I don’t expect you to-“

“Quit fucking edging and spit it out.”

She glared at him. “You can stay in here tonight.”

Ben stared at Her, the thing in his chest clawing against him. “What?”

“You can sit in my bed. If you want. I know you won’t sleep, and I won’t sleep well, and I’d probably end up sitting in your room at some point-“

“Why?” Ben cut off Her rambling, frowning.

She held his gaze, her uneven heart the only sign of her nerves. “I don’t-“ she sighed. “I don’t want to be alone. You’d just be sitting here, nothing else. But if you don’t-“

“Fine.” He answered, and the thing in his chest roared.

“Oh,” she paused, and Ben was pretty goddamn sure She’d expected him to say no. “Okay. Good.”

She pulled herself under the covers, looking up at Ben from her back. He didn’t like what that made him feel, and how easy it would be to just pull Her against him and keep her there.

“Thank you.” She said with a small smile. “No insults."

“Whatever,” Ben grumbled, leaning back in a pointless attempt to find a comfortable position. “Just saving you the fucking walk to my room.”

“You’re a saint,” she mumbled sarcastically, eyes drooping. “I’m sure this must have been very hard for you.”

“I’ll live.” He said, watching Her. “I need you functional, Sunshine. Small, stupid fucking price to pay.”

“You need me?” She breathed out, a sleepy smile on her face.

Ben rolled his eyes. “You burn, I burn.” He echoed the words she'd said before. “I’m not going to let you fucking burn. You don’t get away from me that easy.”

“How sweet.” She whispered, eyes fully closing. “I won’t let you burn either, Pretty Boy.”

Ben wanted to protest, and tell Her that he wasn’t sweet, just practical, and he—despite the protests of the thing in his chest—didn’t need her at all. But Her breathing became steady and even, fast asleep in seconds at his side, and he couldn’t fucking bring himself to wake her. So Ben just studied Her sleeping face, not empty, not twisted in pain, a soft smile playing on her lips. He should fucking go, She was asleep and that’s all She’d fucking needed from him. But he stayed in place, and watcher Her like a fucking creep. Her peaceful face, smooth heartbeat, and gentle breaths soothing the thing in his chest. Ben need to get himself under fucking control, he was being fucking pathetic.

But he stayed, all fucking night, unable to move and barely capable of looking away. And the more of the night that passed, the long he watched Her, the more he realized she was pretty. Really fucking pretty. He hadn’t been fucking blind, he’d known she was pretty before. Thought about it more than he’d ever fucking admit. But fuck, this was different. She was really, really goddamn pretty. And then She rolled over, settling so she was comfortably pressed against him, and he realized she was beautiful. Like one of those stupid, overpriced paintings art-pussies in the 70s had tried to sell him. But real. Fucking beautiful, in a way that made him unable to look away, that made him feel fucking stupid.

Beautiful in a way that made him stay at Her side the whole night, frozen on her bed with her body against him, all the way until the sun started to leak into the room.

[meganelixabethh]

I know I won’t get it- but I want Sunrise on the Reaping to be about Effie Trinket- it would be such a good book!!! All we really know is that the book starts on the 50th reaping and that it’s a look at propaganda. We also know our girl Suzanne only writes when she has something to say- and what better time to make the Effie Trinket Point than now?

Don’t get me wrong- I love to read the fanfics of Effie being disenfranchised from the top of the first book and helping the rebels every step of the way- I live for it- but I also don’t think it’s reality for the canon. Effie Trinket is a character with grey morality at best in the first book. No she’s not organising the games, or planning them, she’s not the iron fist that forces the children to comply nor is she the driving force behind the tradition- hell if she didn’t do it someone else would, right? But she picks the names. She chooses to be close to it. She isn’t as horrified as she should be

SHE. IS. COMPLICIT.

But if you asked her- if you sat her down and said heart of hearts, do you care about these children? She would say yes. She has a complete mental disconnect between the harm she is causing and the compassion she feels for the people being harmed. This is a direct comparison to the modern approach to harm. Just look at Palestine.

I also don’t believe Effie saw anything wrong with the games until one very specific moment. She looked at the glass ball at the 75th reaping and saw a single piece of paper, and she thought ‘this isn’t chance. This isn’t a game. This is a choice and I don’t want to pick up that slip of paper’. I whole heartedly believe it took an emotional closeness to the person being harmed to make her realise all those people were just the same as her- EXACTLY LIKE WE DO IN THE WEST.

Further details under the cut. TW for death, implied SA and pregnancy loss.

So the book starts with the 50th reaping- Effie is between 6 and 16 depending on how old you think she is. I personally think she’s about 8-10. I also think this is the first games where she’s really gotten involved in and is interested in the whole thing from start to finish. She watches the reapings and is absolutely enraptured with Haymitch from the moment he gets on stage- full on little girl crush mode. She follows the whole game and is so happy when he wins. This is the summer she decides she wants to work in the games. She follows the games every summer, gets a glamorous games job in the Capitol when she graduates (I think she went to uni tbh our girl is smart) and then became an escort.

When she’s offered 12 she’s annoyed- after all she’s the darling of the games circuit and she’s put her time in- but 12 is the only job going and if she wants the promotion she needs to take it. She thinks fondly of Haymitch’s games though. She no longer has her little girl crush on him, but she assumes the drunkenness must be an act for the Capitol, some kind of play. When she gets to 12 she realises it’s not. She sees how broken he is. She sees that this destroyed him and she just… doesn’t get it. She develops a fondness for him, still completely believing in the games, and they work together happily enough as far as she’s concerned. She starts dragging him out of bed and shoving him into nice clothes to make the district look good at first, but then she does it because she thinks it might be the only time he has anyone making sure he looks after himself. She is genuinely sad when their tributes die every year. She cries in her room at night after they go, and Haymitch can hear her through the wall when he’s sober enough.

Then the 74th happen. She loves Katniss and Peeta- I fully believe that. She likes them from the beginning, she agrees they have a chance, and when she’s not trying for sponsors, her and Haymitch sit in silence in the penthouse, watching and watching and watching. She grips his hand tightly for hours at a time, eyes almost unblinking and fixed on the screen, knees drawn up to her chest. It’s the first time he sees her as human, and she almost breaks his knuckles during the finale with the mutts. The moment they win, she lets out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding and went to celebrate her first victors. She deliberately turned her face away from the horror because it was easier to not feel the breadth of it. She does exactly what we did to Ukraine. What we continue to do to Palestine.

To be completely clear- she still thinks the games are right through all of this. When she comes back for the victory tour she still thinks this is all fantastic. That mental disconnect is still there. But then eleven happens. If I’m remembering right she gets blood on her and is freaking out about her dress but I would like to see that from her side. I want to see that an innocent man was shot through the head so close to her, his blood and brains splattered across her dress and her skin. I want to see her freak out and everyone assume it’s about the dress but it’s actually about the fact she saw the light leave his eyes. This is the night she goes to Haymitch. She asks him for a drink and she asks him if he thought the man felt it. He isn’t kind to her. He asks her if she ever wondered if the kids felt it? If he felt it? This is the first time they sleep together. She doesn’t spend the night in his cabin. Their physical relationship continues but nothing else changes.

Then the quarter quell- she’s upset when Snow announces the rules. She feels hard done by but also scared for Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch. She understands that she’s avoiding the issue in her mind but she clings to the idea that the games are good so she doesn’t have to face up to the horror she helped meter out. It’s that glass reaping ball that does it. That glass ball with a single slip of paper in that breaks the back of her indoctrination. It all falls on top of her all at once. Her sobs after the bloodbath, alone in her room, the desperation she felt, not just for Katniss and Peeta to live, but for her to not have to watch them die, the man in eleven, the quarter quell, Hatmitch’s sharp words, the drink she craved after she saw it, the smile she plastered on, Haymitch’s hand gripped tightly in hers, the most genuine connection she’s felt in years and oh god are you supposed to be this fucking tired when you’re only 35? She looks at that paper and she is almost incandescent with rage. She loves Katniss and she doesn’t want to be the one who says her name. She doesn’t want to do this anymore. She doesn’t want this life. She doesn’t want the games to happen at all. She’s done.

But now she’s afraid. She’s seen avoxes, she knows what happens to rebels and she’s not quite brave enough to say anything to Haymitch other than veiled comments. She’s not sure he agrees with her and he’s not sure it wasn’t an accidental turn of phrase. The moment the arena blows out she’s dragged away in handcuffs. The prison is harrowing. What little hair she has is shaved off and she spends hours having questions thrown at her that she doesn’t have the answers to. She’s beaten, electrocuted and starved. Her bones are broken, they pull a few of her teeth out and some of the things they do are so awful she can’t even bring herself to think about it inside her own head. She doesn’t feel brave. She doesn’t have the answers to give them and she’s not sure she wouldn’t tell them if she did. She’s too Capitol for the rebels and too district for the Capitol. She’s not rescued, she’s released at the end of the war. Well, ‘released’ is a strong word. The guards unlock all the doors and tell them they have been pardoned and then walk out. She drags herself outside, clutching the walls and collapses in the courtyard as a humanitarian aid worker rushes over.

She spends the first tumultuous month sedated in a hospital bed, blissfully unaware of Coin’s assassination and the last games. When she comes to, Haymitch is sat at her bedside, looking haggard and tired. She looks better than she did on the floor of the courtyard, but not by much. When he sees her open her eyes he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He apologises for not managing to get her out. She knows she should be cross with him, but she can’t find the energy to blame him. They’ve both wasted so much time already. She pushes herself up shakily and wraps her atrophied arms around his neck, telling him that it doesn’t matter, that he’s here now. When he lowers her back down, she asks immediately after Katniss and Peeta. He tells her what happened in as painless terms as he can find, and when he’s done, she can barely keep her eyes open, tears tracking silently down her hollowed cheeks. He gently kisses her on the forehead and says he’ll be back tomorrow. It takes her a long, long time to recover.

She finds out the rest of what happened while she was imprisoned and hospitalised in dribs and drabs. Some from him, some from news, some from conversations she overhears. It takes months and months before she tells him, in halting sentences, when happened in the prison. She doesn’t tell him everything. Some things are too awful to know. They’ve not resumed their physical relationship, but they feel inexplicably drawn to one another, and in a fit of impulsivity, he invites her to come to 12 when he leaves and she does. He doesn’t ask a lot of questions, but she does tell him, eventually, all the things that led to her renouncing the games just before the rebellion. He admits to her the doctor told him she was pregnant when they found her, but miscarried while she was asleep. She can’t get out of bed for days afterwards and he brings her food and water until she’s ready to get up again. She’s glad he knows in a way. She’s glad she never had to tell him what they did to her in there.

The next summer rolls around, and Effie is finally well enough to walk up to the woods outside the district and spends all day picking wildflowers. She ties them into attractive arrangements just like her mother taught her, using brown string instead of satin ribbons. Haymitch is in the newly built square when she arrives with her flowers. She lays them all gently on the ground, one for each child she reaped, including Prim. Haymitch walks over to her as she bows her head, slipping her hand into his. She says she’s sorry, he says ‘I know sweetheart’ and the book ends there

I know we aren’t going to get this, it’s not even a possibility but a girl can dream.

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 8

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol and pregnancy word count: 1.7k authors note: so marlee, stella & evan are some oc's!! i mentioned that i was gonna add a new character so that mama would have a friend. as always, HUGE thank you to @barzysbaby for her support and help on this story 💙 enjoy and thank you all for the love and support <3 we still have lots coming!

masterlist masterpost askbox requests are open🫶🏻

After graduation, you didn’t have many friends. Most of them moved away for university and the few that did stay, you quickly learned, were only friends with you because of your relationship with Mat. Once he was gone, they acted like they didn’t know you. 

The whole teen pregnancy didn’t help either.

Your mom was the only one you had in the delivery room and when visiting hours were over, and you were in your room with Nora alone, that was when the loneliness kicked in. It was when you realized that you were alone, that you were responsible for an actual human being and that realization scared the crap out of you. Things only got worse throughout the night when Nora wouldn’t stop crying and you had no idea what to do. You’d been to all the classes, read the books and watched unrealistic movies but nothing could compare to what being a mom actually felt like. You were sure you would lose your mind but then shift change happened, and you met Marlee. 

Marlee was your nurse for 12 hours, and in those 12 hours, she became a new friend. She was a mom to a one-year-old named Stella so she had just been through the difficult infant stage and she spent every single of her breaks that day with you, giving you advice and helping you. When her shift was over, she gave you her number and told you that if you ever needed anything, to call her. You didn’t plan on calling her, not wanting to impose but on a bad night, when your mom was working a night shift and Nora just wouldn’t stop crying, you caved and called her. She didn’t hesitate to come over and help you, assuring you that her husband was home with Stella. She spent the entire night helping you with a crying Nora who turned out to have colic. 

After that, a beautiful friendship was born. Nora and Stella grew up together like two peas in a pod, and you made a great friend. 

A great enough friend that when she got home from vacation and learned what was going on with Mat and Calista, you had to talk her down from going and “taking that bitch out”. 

You weren’t sure if she was kidding or not. 

“I need a drink,” she mumbles after you manage to talk her down. You’ve never seen her so angry so you follow her to her kitchen, politely declining a glass of wine.

“It’s three o’clock in the afternoon,” you explain when she raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Honey, it’s five o’clock somewhere.”

“True,” you agree. “I’ll still pass though.”

She shrugs and walks back to the living room, flopping on the couch and groaning. 

“I do not want to go back to work tomorrow.”

You sit next to her, knocking your shoulder against hers and smiling. “You get to go help a bunch of new mama’s,” you remind her and she smiles sheepishly.

“Yeah,” she agrees. 

The two of you watch a couple episodes of Yellowstone before the door opens and you hear giggles and a man trying to wrangle two kids inside. You tilt your head back and see Marlee’s husband Evan, helping Nora and Stella take their shoes off before they run into the living room and jump on the couch with you and Marlee. 

“Mama!” Nora shrieks, bouncing up and down on the seat next to you. “Can I please have a sleepover with Stella?” 

You pretend to think about it, even though you and Marlee had planned for Nora to stay the night anyway. She was supposed to spend the day with Mat tomorrow, but she’s refusing to see him. You tried talking to her about it, but she threw a fit and you decided not to push her. Besides, you haven’t heard from Mat since you talked the other day so you’re not even sure if he would want to see her. 

“Well, I guess you can stay the night,” you finally say and she squeals and hugs you before running off with Stella. You smile at them and then turn back to Marlee who’s doing the same. 

“Evan will drop them off at camp tomorrow,” she says and you nod. 

“I’ll head out,” you tell her, standing up and grabbing your keys off the table. “Liana wants to see me tomorrow. Wouldn’t say why.”

Marlee frowns. “Do you think she knows?” 

You hesitate, not having considered that. It’s possible Liana wants to see you in person if she knows about Calista. The thought makes your stomach go in knots. You don’t want to lie to her that you knew, but you don’t want her to be mad that you didn’t tell her. 

“Maybe,” you say. “I’ll let you know.”

“Alright, have a good night.” 

“You too,” you reply before going to say goodbye to Nora. She’s distracted but hugs you and smiles when you tell her you’ll see her tomorrow.

“Bye mama,” she waves as you leave and you can’t help but think about how quickly she’s growing. It feels like yesterday you were sitting on your bathroom floor, staring at a positive pregnancy test and now she’s becoming her own little person. You shed a few tears on the way home, but they’re happy tears which is a change considering lately the only time you’ve cried is when Mat does something stupid, like brush off Nora’s feelings because of his girlfriend. 

You’re still waiting for a call or text from him, not wanting to crack first and reach out to him. When you were dating, he would always come to you after an argument. You both hated fighting, and it was something that wasn’t common in your relationship. 

But six years and a life changing secret changes a lot. 

. . .

Liana insists that you meet up at your apartment, not wanting to be at the Barzal household. It makes you feel like she probably does know about Calista’s pregnancy. 

She shows up at ten o’clock on the dot, bulldozing into your apartment the minute you open the door. 

“Um, hey?” you say, closing the door and turning to see her standing a few feet away from you, arms crossed and scowling. 

“Did you know?”

When you don’t say anything, she starts pacing. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? You knew I was worried!” she cries, stopping to look at you. There are tears in her eyes and your heart breaks. You feel like all you’ve done since Mat got home and you brought Nora into their lives, is cause pain. It wasn’t right of you to keep her away, you know that but you’re only starting to realize just how hard it must have been on them. 

“It wasn’t my secret to tell,” you say but she shakes her head.

“No, you owe me this. I didn’t get mad about Nora but you knew that Calista is pregnant and you didn’t tell me! I was worried sick about Mat but you knew the entire time.” 

It was rare that Liana yelled, but you’re sure your neighbors can hear her. 

“Liana-”

“No,” she snaps, cutting you off. “You should have told me.” 

“Does Nadia know?” you ask quietly and Liana pauses, as if she’s considering not telling you. 

Eventually, her shoulders drop. “No. Mat wants to keep it that way so don’t say anything,” she says. “Not like you have trouble keeping secrets.”

She leaves before you can reply, leaving you standing in the middle of your apartment. It was a low blow, but you know you deserved it. Liana didn’t necessarily have a right to know about Mat’s situation, but she was right about Nora. 

You should have given them a chance.

. . .

“It’s not too late, you know,” your mom said. She was holding a copy of your sonogram, smiling softly. You were lucky how well your mom took the news when you went to her and told her you were pregnant. She promised to support you no matter your decision and when you told her you wanted to keep the baby, she was there every step of the way.

The only thing she didn’t agree with was your decision to keep Nora out of the Barzal’s lives. She tried to say that maybe they would be able to keep Mat from finding out, but you couldn’t take the chance. You knew that Mat would eventually find out somehow and that was exactly what you didn’t want. 

“I’ve made up my mind,” you told her and looked at your own copy of the sonogram. “He can’t know.”

. . .

When you go to Marlee’s the next day, you’re surprised to find her home early. She was supposed to work until eight but it’s four in the afternoon when you go to pick Nora up and she’s sitting at the kitchen table, reading something. 

“Hey,” you say and her head snaps up so quickly you hear a crack that makes you wince.

Her face is white as a ghost, and she’s gripping the papers in her hand tight enough that they’re starting to buckle. 

“Where are the kids?” you ask, walking over and sitting down. She shoves the papers to the side and attempts to smile at you but it’s forced. 

“Evan took them for ice cream,” she says.

“That’s nice,” you reply, trying to figure out what’s going on. “Was Nora good? Didn’t give you any trouble?” 

“Of course not,” she reassures you. “Angel as always.”

You watch her shift in her chair and glance at the papers. You’re tempted to just take them so you can figure out why Marlee’s so nervous but obviously it’s private so you don’t push. You’re opening your mouth to ask her when Evan will be back so you can take Nora to see your mom when words start tumbling out of her mouth.

“She lied,” she says quickly. “She lied, and I took her file and I’m probably going to get fired but I couldn’t just let her get away with lying about something so important when it can affect-”

“Who?” you cut her off. “Who lied about what?”

Her face pales more if it’s even possible. 

“Calista. She lied about being pregnant.”

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[heysawbones]

Let's Talk about Xyrem.

Xyrem ("oral sodium oxybate" or the sodium salt of gamma-hydroxybutyrate) is used in the treatment of narcolepsy, as well as (sometimes) idiopathic hypersomnia. Even if you don't have narcolepsy or any related conditions, you may find this run-down interesting. Here's why:

Gamma-hydroxybutyrate is roofies. That's right. Date rape drug. Right here.

The drug is so tightly controlled that there is one pharmacy in all of the United States that can fill it. Doctors must be approved and participate in a special program to even prescribe it.

Nobody really knows how it works in the treatment of narcolepsy.

I was prescribed Xyrem quite some time ago - at this point, nearly a year back. It took six-plus months of insurance, doctor's office, and central pharmacy wrangling to get the drug to my door. The whole time, I wondered: what should I expect from Xyrem? How do I know if it's working? How do I know if it's not working? What's it like? Lists of side effects and contraindications are readily available online, but I couldn't find a single detailed testimonial. This bothered me.

I've been on Xyrem for about a month and a half now. Here's what I can tell you about it.

You have to wake up at night to take a drug that's meant to improve your sleep. Everybody I explained this to found it funny. The standard practice is to split your dose in two - to take one half at bed, and the other half two to four hours later. If you're on Jazz Pharmaceuticals brand Xyrem and not the generic, they send you a tiny little alarm clock with a light on it to facilitate this. I have never needed it.

It takes 3 weeks to titrate up to the "full" dose, which is also the maximum dose. From there, you can titrate back down to a lower dose if you're experiencing unpleasant side effects. I'm in the process of doing this myself.

It doesn't necessarily knock you out. From the way the drug is described, one might get the impression that the moment it kicks in, you're going to be unconscious. I didn't find this to be the case. Your mileage may vary; I don't always fall asleep at all on the first dose, but it does at least get me sleepy enough to fall asleep on the second.

You have an unusual amount of agency in how you take Xyrem. This surprised me, especially given how tightly controlled possession of this drug is. For example, I metabolize Xyrem really fast. If I take it in two doses, I will sleep a maximum of 6 hours. I take the same amount of medicine and split it into three doses instead to compensate for how fast I metabolize it. That way, I'm more likely to sleep about 8 hours. This isn't just accepted, it's encouraged. You can even take a bigger dose first and a smaller one second, or vice-versa. The only hard and fast rule is: do not go over the max dose.

If you take it with alcohol, or within 4-6 hours of alcohol, it could kill you. A lot of drugs warn you not to take them with alcohol. I cannot stress enough that if you have ignored that warning in the past: do not ignore it here. Do not. Xyrem is a powerful CNS depressant. Alcohol is a CNS depressant. It really can kill you.

It works(?) Like many drugs that act on the brain, nobody is really sure how Xyrem works. It doesn't affect the most common (known) cause of narcolepsy (a lack of orexin/hypocretin). It's theorized that the drug acts on GABA receptors in a way that "consolidates" the fragmented sleep architecture of narcolepsy.

Narcolepsy can be thought of as an autoimmune disorder of sleep architecture. The sleep architecture of a narcoleptic is irregular, both within itself and from night to night. People with narcolepsy tend to have less of the deep sleep stages than they should. Narcoleptics also have a high percentage of stage 1 (light) and REM sleep. It's theorized that excessive REM occurs because it is of poor quality/does not serve its intended function, so the brain spams REM in an attempt to compensate. A diagnostic trait of narcolepsy is the ability to enter REM within 8 minutes of falling asleep - if sleep architecture is normal, this does not occur. While not all people with narcolepsy have cataplexy, cataplexy itself is actually REM intrusion into waking life. The narcoleptic brain is that screwed up about REM. Xyrem appears to regulate shifts between sleep stages and reduce the nightly percentage of REM sleep. I used to dream nightly. Subjectively, I do not dream at all on Xyrem.

The only difference between Xyrem and Xywav is salt. A full 9g dose of Xyrem contains 1,640mg of sodium. The maximum sodium intake recommended by the American Heart Association is 2,300mg. One of the few things I saw said about Xyrem prior to taking it was that it was disgustingly salty. It is very, very salty. I don't mind it, though. I've seen it said that Xywav tastes much worse, but I can't attest to that.

Subjective experience

Xyrem comes Priority Air Mail in a sizable cardboard box. An adult with ID must be present to sign for it. The first month's prescription comes with a light-up alarm clock. This kit and all subsequent kits come with:

The medicine, in however many bottles are required

A number of syringes, marked with common doses

A number of pill bottles

You put water in the pill bottles. They tell you to put about 60ml, but as far as I can tell, this is to make the saltiness tolerable. I made a little game of this - I try to put the same amount of water in each pill bottle, gauged by nothing but sound. I've gotten pretty good at this. I have my nightly dose split 3 ways. After adding the drug to the water, I close each bottle and swirl it a bit. I don't know if this actually does anything.

Xyrem works best if you're already tired when you take it. Hilariously, I have ADHD in addition to narcolepsy. Nighttime sleepiness isn't a thing I Do naturally. Consequently, the first dose of Xyrem only puts me to sleep about half the time, and it takes a while even when it does. I know myself well enough to know that if I wait until I'm actually "sleep for the night" tired to take it, I might be up until 3 or 4 AM. Instead, I take the first dose at around 11 PM. Even if it doesn't put me to sleep, it DOES make me sleepy enough that the dose I take 2-3 hours later will definitely work.

I was very careful to set alarms the first week or so of taking Xyrem, but I've never needed them. For reasons that are unclear to me, I always wake up when Xyrem is fully metabolized. Without more Xyrem, there is no urge to go back to sleep. When I've run out of doses for the night, I'm up for the rest of the day. There's no napping.

Some people have pretty nasty side effects with Xyrem. Headache and nausea are the most common. I had both of those, once each. The headache lasted all day but was otherwise unremarkable; the nausea was genuinely awful. The only persistent side effect I have, is tremors.

While I was waiting for Xyrem, my sleep specialist put me on Adderall. Nobody would prescribe this for ADHD, but you'll do it for narcolepsy? Sure, whatever I'll take it. I mention this because I thought it was possible that Adderall was causing tremors. I ran a little experiment: I took Xyrem but no Adderall one day and still had tremors. I took Adderall, but no Xyrem the night before, and the tremors subsided. It's definitely the Xyrem. While this is a known possible side effect, I can't find any information on how or why Xyrem, a CNS depressant, would cause something that seems very much the opposite of a depressed central nervous system. I am currently titrating back down from the max dose in an attempt to see if a lower dose will mitigate the tremors. If that doesn't work, I'm not... entirely sure what to do. Xyrem is a weird drug. It's strange not to dream at all; it's strange to wake up twice a night and still get better sleep than I ever have. Executive function has improved considerably, given that both neurological issues that cause executive dysfunction are being treated. Still: the tremors are, I will not lie, distressing. Not as bad as they were on Wellbutrin, which I was forced to discontinue! But - disruptive and distressing, nonetheless. I'm hoping that the tremors will stop eventually, or that dose adjustment will help.

Overall: would recommend if you have narcolepsy. You wouldn't think that a drug that obligates you to wake up multiple times a night could improve your sleep! Well, bucko, if your sleep architecture is already so disordered that you have narcolepsy: it can.

[ipostwhatiwant1202]

As a Dad: Raph Edition

Authoritative

• we can all agree that as burly and as hard headed and as gruff and as *violent* as this man can be, this man adores kids

• yes as he matures he becomes more level headed but nothin knocked his head on straighter than having children (again biologically by a miracle or adoption)

• screw the books, he's gonna watch movies and wing it

• very patient for the 0-8 month stage with the crying and getting up at ungodly hours because hey, not the kids fault they can't talk

• loves naptime and tummy time the most because he loves baby noises...and yes, they do carry on a conversation

• definitely tries to get the kids to walk and talk as early as possible because they "need to learn quick to keep up with me"

• very hands on dad with bathtime, bedtime, and feeding time. he can't operate a diaper to save his life

• once the kid is walking and able to say some words, oh this man becomes prideful real fast

• ages 2-7 were definitely something else because he learned quickly silence was no bueno

• not a yeller but his voice does elevate to some degree, especially if his kids back talk

• that being said, while he doesn't have schedules for the kids (he leaves that to his partner), they do have to have some sort of a routine to keep them in line

• not a big stickler for bad grades but like leo, if the kids are genuinely trying their best and still get a C, he's fine with it...they better have a good reason for below a C tho

• his father was strict but still allowed him to be a kid, so he does the same thing with his own

• thus comes the 13-17 ages. oh boy.

• tries to channel his kids anger into ninjitsu, which works, but then it very quickly back fired cause now the kids are trying to kill each other

• his temper is definitely inherited by his kids and now he knows how his father felt, so he often goes to him for advice

• now his kids have to clean the house top to bottom and they can't go out for a week when they act up

• doesn't believe in physical punishments, rather he prefers to make the kids do things he doesn't like to do (example, clean).

• he teaches his kids how to be polite and respectful, especially around splinter

• don't let him anywhere near their homework.

• always asks the kids what they're up to and stays very involved with everything they do

• like leo, he's nonbiased when it comes to gender, but he's secretly dad girl coded

• has no problem getting on the floor and playing with his kids

• he definitely calls it babysitting

• he's the more fun parent but the kids also know not to give him attitude

• little girl wants dad to be a princess for halloween? no problem

• son wants dad to teach him how to kill a man? no problem

• will not remember school schedules...like at all

• makes sure his kids know how to sew/knit

• makes sure his kids know how to cook

• creates a space where they can always talk to him about anything

• obviously kids make mistakes, he just doesn't want them trying to lie or cover it up. honesty is key

• number one fan of the kids sports teams and never misses an event from the shadows

• definitely the parent that gets mad at the coaches

• calls the kids nicknames based on their height or distinct personality trait

• dad yawns and dad sneezes

• if his kid has friends, he needs to know everything about them for...science reasons

• definitely the "well i guess you wont do that again, will you?" dad

• he totally tells his kids their limb needs cut off if it's bleeding

[hakkasm]

↑You can read all the pages from the link above!

[Comic] Mafia Sitter

I started writing in mid-January to submit to the Global Comic Award 2024 and finally completed it. Continuing from there is a long feedback.

The working time is two months for the main text and two weeks for the cover. Around January 11th, I received a DM from a friend saying, "There's a contest like this," and thought, "The deadline is the end of March... it's impossible for me (I've never drawn a completed comic before)." But it's a comic contest aimed at the world... My art style is only recognized in this contest... I couldn't ignore this contest. I was in the middle of making another piece, but I interrupted it, and I was full of anxiety about whether I could draw a comic in just two and a half months. However, the thought, "Instead of worrying, I should act quickly," came to my mind, and I started writing from January 13th, changing my mindset.

I spent 1 day on the script, plus 1 day typing the dialogue, and started the "completed 1 page per day" lifestyle from January 16th.

The goal was to complete 45 pages, but at the plotting stage, it was about 56 pages. When I actually started drawing the manuscript, the planned page allocation didn't match, and the total number of pages increased to 65. (I learned the importance of page allocation.) At a pace of 1 page per day, I wondered if I would make it by March... (I'm easily bored, I didn't think I could do 1 page per day.) So, I rearranged my schedule to make 3 pages on weekends, which would give me some leeway. This idea turned out to be a big success.

As a result, I achieved 1 page per day and was able to finish drawing all the pages by early March, leaving the remaining time to work on the cover, which is like the face of the comic.

Since I work as a company employee, I had to finish work by 8:00 p.m. to make time for the manuscript, which was a daily pressure. There were times when I finished the manuscript at 3:00 or 4:00 a.m. on weekdays. I fell ill. At that time, I felt like giving up. (On the day I fell ill, I slept for about two hours and resumed manuscript production after my condition improved a bit.)

It was truly a life of "pushing myself to the limit", but accomplishing it gave me confidence. 'Oh, I can make a 65-page full-color comic in 2 months.' It became an advantage for me. (I don't want to push myself like this anymore, though... haha.)

Thank you for participating in the survey for the title logo! The survey results leaned towards the left logo. While the left logo was packed with concept, its font style and thickness varied, resulting in imbalance when aligned in a row and making it difficult to use in monochrome. If the left logo had overwhelmingly won the votes, I would have chosen it. However, since the right logo also received a considerable number of votes, I decided to adopt the right logo.

Now all that's left is to see the results on Global Comic Award. I'm really aiming to win. Both the script and the art are amateur-level when viewed separately, but I balanced them out to make them good enough.

It's my first comic work... I really want a lot of people to read it! *If enough people like the comic and want to get a copy of the comic book, I can make and sell it:)

[greatyme]

Sometimes timing works out well and u get the opportunity to see an actor you love perform in an incredible play (twice!) 🥹

Now I already knew I’d be going to Korea sometime in the latter part of the year, so the announcement that Taevin would be doing Angels in America was just perfect. I decided to go to the show on the 25th and closing night on the 27th because who wouldn’t want to see Taevin twice AND it meant I could see both Prior actors! Most of the cast both nights were pretty similar, but Harper, Joe, and Roy’s actors were also different

Taevin is truly incredible. I had mixed… negative feelings about Louis while reading the play but god Taevin can ACT!! Both Seungho and Hojun were also fantastic as Prior (I think I liked Hojun’s performance a bit more hehe) and despite not knowing much Korean I enjoyed every second (I do wonder if I was the only international person who got to see the play from as far out as I was lol)

Some mixed moments I loved/thoughts from the two shows:

after kissing Harper in one scene, Joe (Yang Jiwon) wiped his mouth. He didn’t do it at the second show and I wonder if it was intentional or improv by Jiwon in the first show (but it made perfect sense)

in the second show Prior (Seungho) pulled towels from the other side of the stage (aka another set lmao) to give to Harper to wipe her tears during the joint dream sequence. Hojun didn’t do that in the first show so I wasn’t expecting that and I don’t think anyone else was cuz everyone in the audience laughed djskjdk

as I said before idk much Korean BUT I did read the play as well as watched a filmed performance before which was essential before seeing it in a different language lol. For the second night’s performance I felt like I was catching more than the first time I saw it which was cool!

speaking of things I caught more… for some reason I heard “dyke” pronounced more clearly from Seungho and it was very entertaining to hear Roy’s actor constantly say “Jesus fucking Christ” in English so I guess they stuck w the English equivalents sometimes loooll

THE GHOSTS OF PRIOR WALTER WERE SOOO FUNNY. ESPECIALLY IN THE FIRST SHOW. they were kind of interacting w the audience??? And running around and being so sillay idk I loved it I was laughing a lot

Louis’ stupid rant to Belize was so entertaining. He just won’t stfu and Belize has had ENOUGH. I’m not sure about every version of angels, but for this they had Louis walk to a separate part of the stage and bring back chairs and then drinks which made the length of that scene get even longer and funnier. It was a lot of dialogue and both Taevin & Tae Hangho delivered so well. The only thing I’m curious about is if they altered any dialogue around Belize’s character being Black, considering Hangho is not

THAT scene. THE BREAKUP. IF YOU LIKE THE PLAY YOU KNOW THE ONE. oh my GOD it was incredible. I love the motion and the way all the characters are in conversation with each other it’s just so fucking awesome

THE WAY THE ANGEL BURSTS IN AT THE END!!! The lighting is so cool especially with the set design. Lots of flashing lights at different angles and colors creating different effects against the industrial background. What a way to end the play I wish it was 8 hours long and they DID do Perestroika bc I need to see the rest!!!

Finally, I’ll end with a little beyond-bucket-list experience I had��� which was that Taevin signed my ticket 🥹🥹🥹 I won’t include a photo bc there’s too much personal info, but he very kindly asked how to spell my name in English seeing that I wasn’t Korean lol. He didn’t sign anything on closing night either so I was truly very lucky on the 25th🥹 honestly, I was just expecting to see the play but greeting the cast (more of them came out on closing night!) and even getting an autograph made it even more special hehe

The whole cast was incredible, I’ll remember these two performances for the rest of my life <3

[twilightangel83]

Not a Chance in the Realms

October 8: Outnumbered (Whumptober)

A 1-1.5 on my whump scale (see the series definition for the scale)

Chatter broke out as soon as the static filled the screen and continued as Batman and Constantine moved back onto the stage. Back at the chairs, Nightwing could see Wonder Woman messing with a remote and a moment later the video clicked off as Batman stepped forward to speak.

“So, as you can see, we’ve got quite the situation at hand. Now I’m sure many of you are wondering if what he said was true. I know that was my first question. To answer that, I’m going to let Constantine take the floor.” That said, Batman stepped back some as Constantine stepped forward. And it was in that moment that Nightwing realized just how serious this was. In all the years he’d known Constantine he’d never seen the man look this serious before. And, if Nightwing wasn’t mistaken, the man was completely sober. Which was worrying in and of itself. This was big.

“It’s true alright.” Constantine’s gruff voice cut across the room. “The Infinite Realms is just as the king said. It’s the place where all afterlives reside as well as the glue that holds all of reality together. This means that the dead of every world in our universe, and the dead of every other universe in existence go there. If they decide to go to war against us there’s very little we could do against those numbers, especially since most of our weapons and abilities won’t even touch a being of the Infinite Realms, let alone end one. And those that die on our side just add to their numbers. And that’s not even mentioning King Phantom himself.” Constantine shook his head with a grimace. “Phantom is a young king. By my reports he’s had the throne for less than a decade, but the Realm and its people love him. The previous King, Pariah Dark, was a tyrannical dictator that ended up having to be sealed away for the safety of the Realms as well as the mortal planes. It took several Ancients, beings of immense age and power, to seal him away. But he was somehow freed several years back. That’s when Phantom took him down. From what I heard it took King Phantom under half an hour to take the old king down. Single Handed. He’s not someone we want to mess with.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” A voice Nightwing didn’t quite recognize from the front of the crowd called. Constantine huffed and crossed his arms.

“As far as I’m concerned we evacuate who we can, but if the United States is dumb enough to refuse to repeal this mess then we let them lie in the bed they made.”

“And these Ecto Acts?” Another vaguely familiar voice asked, sounding a bit desperate.  “Are those real too?” There must have been some sort of discussion earlier about who would explain what, because Constantine didn’t bother looking to check before he stepped back to let Batman take over once more.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Batman informed them grimly. “I’m not sure how they slipped by us, but about five years ago a set of laws were quietly passed that labeled all so-called ecto-entities as non-sentient and dangerous. Under these laws the Ghost Investigation Ward have the right to do whatever they deem necessary to understand and deal with the threat posed by these beings. And they deem anyone with a reading of 5 or higher on their meters as an ecto-entity. No matter if they’ve got a beating heart or not.”

Unsurprisingly, this did not go over well with the crowd. It was one, already horrid, thing to say that these beings from another dimension were all non-sentient, but to tack on that any one of their own people who were contaminated enough were also non-sentient was just insane. How had this gotten passed?

“How do they measure that?” That was Cyborg’s voice, probably wanting to get ahold of the tech so they could figure out who all would fall under this category.

“We’re still working that out, but—“

Read more Here

[mel-ixa]

The Mishanks agenda is not letting me go so here’s a brain worm:

After the Warlord system was abolished, high ranking marines are after Mihawk

Mihawk handles them with relative ease but days of constant fighting does take a toll and for one of the fight he lets his guard down slightly only because he’s so goddamn tired

And that’s how he got nicked just a little by a hidden blade of the attacking vice-admiral(?)

Mihawk didn’t think much of the nick until he realised mid-fight that his vision was getting blurry and his exhaustion sets in tenfold

His attacker saw him stumble and smirks and Mihawk knew something was up

The attacker revealed that the blade was laced with a rare poison that kills someone in 24 hours and the pain just excruciatingly worse until death is a kinder way out

There’s either no antidote or it takes longer than 24 hours to brew so it’s basically a death sentence unless someone has it on hand

Mihawk takes down the whole fleet of maybe 20+ ships in a ‘if I’m going down, I’m taking you down with me’ way and goes all out because why not if it’ll be his last fight

This creates major disturbances to the sea and of course Shanks senses this

Shanks sails towards the unease and sees the complete destruction of the aftermath

The sky is split open, wood pieces scattered across the sea and littered with bodies. The sea was tainted red.

Amidst all these, the Hitsugibune floats with a broken mast and a splintered seat, with only one candle left flickering (collateral damage as Mihawk realised there’s no point holding back to protect his ship if he’s gg to die anyway)

Mihawk is curled up on his ship with harboured breathe and barely senses Shanks

Shanks is shocked and confused but rushes to Mihawk side to see him unscathed except for the tiny nick, yet Mihawk’s eyes are unfocused and he’s clearly in pain

Shanks tries to bring Mihawk onto his ship but Mihawk refuses and they bicker until a sharp pain hits Mihawk and he shuts up and tries not to curl up even tighter but is visibly shaking

Shanks is just scared at this point and somehow manhandles Mihawk onto his ship. Mihawk acts like he’s ok until he closes the door to Shank’s cabin and he collapses

Shanks is worried shitless. His ship doctor can’t figure out what’s wrong so could only provide pain killers which helps a lot

Mihawk eventually reveals that he was poisoned and has less than 24 hours to live

Shanks freezes and goes through the 8 stages of grief in a minute. But no way he’s losing Mihawk to a poison NO THATS NOT HAPPENING the world’s greatest swordsman cannot be defeated by this he refuses to allow it to happen

But this is beyond his ship doctor’s help, but he manages to find a way to prolonge 24h to 48h although the pain will only get worse from here

The painkillers stop working at one point and Mihawk pleads Shanks to end his suffering but Shanks apologises and have to sedate or knock him out cold just so he won’t feel the pain

There’s so much angst here - shanks is watching his crush slowly die and there’s nothing he can do. What’s the point of being a yonko if he can’t even save a friend. He is desperate.

Idk if there’s any healing DF cause I’m only at EP430 but I assume there is one and Shanks seeks them out

It’s not always you have a Yonko on his knees begging you to save someone so the healer obliges but at a cost (I can’t think of the trade off yet but I’m thinking somewhere along the lines that takes advantage of Shanks. Shanks doesn’t care.)

I’ll continue the rest later when I can think of an ending

[hyacinths-in-a-storm-writes]

Day 8- Singing

(Azula x Ty Lee)

You can also read it here on ao3

A/N: Not my best work, but in my defense, I had school

“You ready?” Azula asked, tucking in a few errant strands. Ty Lee didn’t answer, trying to shake all the nerves from her body.

“I guess. I know I’ll be fine on stage, that muscle memory will take over, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling horrible.” 

“I’ve heard you play Ty Lee, you’ll do great.” Azula says, unusually gently, with a firm hand on her back.

“Thank you Azula, I know you’ll do great with your solo as well.” Ty Lee replied,

“Of course I will, I earned that spot.” she flipped her hair, cockiness returning. Ty Lee tried to laugh, but the bugs in her stomach started to turn making her feel nauseous and clammy.

”Come on, let’s go or else we’re going to get yelled at by the director.” Azula said, hooking her arm through Ty Lee’s.

~

The night went as well as expected, with minimal hiccups, and no heads ripped off. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and the toll of being in a constant state of panic for 5 straight hours was starting to set in. Ty Lee was yawning every thirty seconds, and tears were threatening to spill down her face. The thought of completing any homework was completely out of the question.

”Azula!” Ty Lee spotted her on the other side of the room, talking to Mai. Ty Lee nearly ran just so that she could rest her head on Azula’s shoulder. This was partially as a friendly gesture, and partially to rest her eyes for a few seconds. She felt Azula’s breath stop momentarily, and the air rush into her lungs in one quick motion.

“I suppose I should leave you two alone?” Mai sighed, in her signature monotone.

“No, I didn’t mean to interrupt you two.” Ty Lee assured, but Mai looked over her head, eyebrow raised. Ty Lee shifted to look where she was, but before she could, Mai shook her head, smiling.

“No it's fine, really I need to go talk to Zuko anyways.” She waved, and disappeared into the crowd.

“Why is everyone acting so strange today?” Ty Lee wondered out loud,

“What do you mean Ty?” Azula asks,

“First with you being nice in the bathroom, now Mai just up and leaving like that?” She realized how wrong that sounded and immediately backtracked,

“Not that you aren’t nice Azula, it’s just very- out of character for you.” Ty Lee winced, realizing that didn’t sound much better, luckily Azula just smiled at her,

“I get it, am I dropping you off today?” Ty Lee nodded, even more confused. Usually Azula would return with another snarky comment. She only answered so curtly to people she didn’t like, or didn’t know.

“Have I done anything wrong, Azula?” That definitely took her by surprise.

“What? No, of course not. What would possess you to think that?” Ty Lee shrugged, maybe she was reading too much into this, and Azula was just as exhausted as she was after the performance.

They made their way to Azula’s car in awkward silence. Zuko would probably drive back with Mai. Ty Lee shifted her in her seat, adjusting her bag and fidgeting with her fingers. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous, she had been alone with Azula before.

Maybe it was just because of the concert, after all she was fairly sure she missed a couple keys, and was way out of tempo for at least 40% of the song. Hopefully no one in the audience noticed it.

“You did really well today.” Azula commented, interrupting her thoughts.

“You think? I was pretty sure I messed up all of it. But you did really well, Azula, everyone clapped the loudest for you.” Ty Lee had been there when she practiced, but even still her jaw had been on the floor when it came to the real deal.

“Are you going to ask anyone out for prom?” The question caught her off surprise. Ty Lee hadn’t really even been thinking about prom, with all of the finals and college applications coming up. Azula had always been on top of all that stuff, and probably finished and mailed everything.

“I hadn’t really thought about it, I was just thinking about going with you guys.”

“That sounds fun.” The rest of the drive was in complete silence. Ty Lee fought the urge to check Azula’s temperature. It was a joke at first, but was she really falling ill? She pulled into Ty Lee’s driveway, which was unusually quiet. One of her sisters was always fighting for garage space or bringing their friends in and generally causing chaos. She sat there, car door open, basking in the rare moment of calm. The wind felt nice on her clammy skin.

“Thanks for the drive Azula!”

“Ty Lee, would you mind going to prom with me?” she replied, taking Ty Lee by surprise.

“I’m going with you to prom already?”

“I meant- as a couple.” Ty Lee blinked, mouth slightly agape, but before she could even open her mouth, Azula started to reverse,

“Never mind that, I’ll see you tomorrow Ty Lee.” but before Azula could leave, she grabbed her hand,

“Is that why you’ve been so weird all evening? Was it because you were nervous?”

“Well-yes of course I was nervous! Who wouldn’t be nervous?” Azula snapped back, but was smiling for the first time in the evening,

“I can’t believe it. The stoic Azula is nervous to ask me out?” Ty Lee mocked grinning,

“Ty Lee! You’re not helping.” Azula was laughing now, the awkwardness from the night lifting from their shoulders.

“I can’t help it. I honestly thought I did something wrong and you were going to platonically break up with me, or something.”

“Well, I’m not. In fact I’m doing the exact opposite.” Azula pointed out, “You still haven’t told me whether or not you want to go prom with me.”

“Of course I do, I thought you’d never ask.”

A/N: My goal is to finish this before the year ends

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

Broadway.com has been talking about female rage the musical and the possibility of a jukebox musical and I want to die. There's so much wrong with that. Like, broadway is collaborative. Other people would have a say in every aspect of the show. She doesn't have 2 hours of coherent work. I can't see her using her work for anything other than a self serving vanity show all about her life. She would never let anyone else play her on stage. She does not have the talent to sing dance or act live and close up 8 days a week. The only people who would attend are her fans, famously horrible audience members. She can only keep an audience when there's fireworks and backup dancers to draw attention from her lazy mediocre performances.

She wants to be MJ so bad it's embarrassing

Hardcore cringe- ICk

I'm so sorry to her fans who genuinely believe Swift has a coherent enough body of work to write a musical. Literally, I just wrote a post on how incoherent her work really is.

She's just too undereducated for it. I am sorry but people go to school and major in scriptwriting, they major in drama, or major in music. My point being that this stuff is a true craft- it takes years of work to hone a craft.

While people don't always need to study things in a traditional educational setting, they do need to learn from the masters- that's why we have apprentice programs and assistant positions in any art related fields.

There is far too wide a gap between what Swift does on stage- essentially following the drafted choregraph a professional dancer made for her, and writing a real musical for me to believe that she is talented enough to do it.

Not to mention the huge gap between writing pop-songs and literally writing a full-bodied musical. Like there's just no comparison here.

The audacity of her to just believe she has enough natural skills to do anything on Earth with no training drives me nuts.

There are people who dedicate their lives to working on these skills and she just disrespects them by saying, essentially, it's so easy she can do it with no training. Um- no.

[tdinyomomma]

Not Quite Famous- TDI X Reader (Chapter Five)

If You Haven’t Read: Four

"Okay, this is so-way-beyond bad. I'm out of fake tanner already." Lindsay whines, telling Gwen and I her dilemma. I looked down from my bunk bed as I was reading my book. "Whoa, that's tragic, Lindsay." Gwen sarcastically comments. "Now, I have to actually like suntan, in the sun." The blonde complains, "Do you realize how shriveled and wrinkly that can make your skin?" She sounds distressed as she gets up and goes over to Gwen, "Oh, you totally do." She frowns. My jaw slacks open in shock. Does this girl really not have common sense or is this a joke that only she's in on?

"All right, campers, enough beauty sleep. Time to show us what you're made of!" Chris announces over the P.A. after loudly blaring an alarm.

I sigh, placing my book down, jumping off my bed. I fix my clothes, turning to Gwen. "I wonder what stupid thing we're doing today." I smirk and she chuckles, agreeing. "Totally, at least we're actually rested for this one." She points out, getting up as well to change into her daily clothes.

"True, I'll see you wherever we're meeting." I nudged her gently, walking away not realizing I made her blush from the short interaction.

We all sat by this stage on bleachers, Gophers on one side, Bass on the other. "Are we gonna see a musical?" Lindsay questions what's going on with the stage. I roll my eyes. "I love musicals, especially the ones with singing and dancing." She clasps her hands together and I shake my head, sighing because of her stupidity. I look over to see Gwen making her way over to us and I wave her down. "Gwen! I saved you a spot!" I grin, she sits down. "Thanks." She blushes, Cody unfortunately comes over and sits on the opposite side of me.

Behind the three is Heather, glaring down at Gwen in annoyance.

Trent also decides to sit with us but he sits next to Gwen who doesn't know that the boy has feelings for her, and is flirting. Cody smiles at me, as usual and I awkwardly ignore him, thanking the gods when Chris starts speaking. "Welcome to our brand new, deluxe state-of-the-art outdoor amphitheater." He greets us, showing off the stage.

"Okay, this weeks challenge is a summer camp favorite, a talent contest." He says and I frown at the announcement but Owen of course cheers like he does for every single thing we get told. "Yes! Awesome!" He shouts.

"Each team has 8 hours to pick their three most talented campers. These three will represent them in the show tonight. Sing, dance, juggle. Anything goes as long as it's legal." He makes eye contact with Duncan, also motioning to him so he knows. Duncan snaps in disappointment.

"You'll be judged by our resident talent scout, former D.J V.J and rap legend Grand Master Chef who will show his approval via the Chef-O-Meter." He points up and something dings a few times. "The team that loses will send one camper home tonight. Good luck." He walks away, I take a deep breath. Three people means I don't have to try out for some talent so I could really care less about who they pick.

Gwen and I stand up together, and we go back to our cabins picking spots to do the judging.

We sit on our cabin's porch, Heather in front of us wearing a whistle around her neck and holding a clipboard. Blowing into the whistle she speaks up. "Okay, I'm the team captain, so here's how it's going to work." She says with authority. "Wait, who said you were team captain?" Gwen questions, holding a book in her arms. "She did. Just now." Lindsay acts as if that was obvious. We knew Heather picked herself but the team didn't agree to it.

"Lindsay, Beth and I took a vote and I won." The mean girl smiles. "Threatening them to vote for you isn't exactly democratic." Gwen explains and Trent comes over with a muffin in hand. "Hey, snagged you an extra muffin." He whispers, Gwen smiles. "Oh, thank you but [Name] already gave me hers as an extra, sorry." She rubs the back of her head. "Oh, no problem." He takes it back, holding it to his chest.

"Trent, you're cool with me leading this project, aren't you?" Heather asks him. "Right on, go for it." He says.

"Good, Beth, Lindsay and I will be the judges." She proudly states. "Whatever." Gwen sighs and I raise a brow at the whole interaction.

Now one by one each person shows off their talent of who wants to even show it off. Owen's first, drinking a whole liter of soda. "Are you gonna audition?" Trent turns to Gwen, "Doubtful." She replies. "You should be in this, Trent, you play an instrument." I remind him and I can tell he got annoyed from me being there but oh well. "True!" Gwen nods, looking up at me. "Are you going to do anything? Didn't you say you play the drums?"

"No," I nervously laugh, "I did say that but I'm not auditioning." The only things I know how to play on the drums are from my embarrassing metal loving past. And I am far from being that person. "I'm sure it would've been awesome but I get it." She leans back on me since I'm sitting behind her on the stairs just one above hers.

Owen starts burping the ABC's, the guys all root for the guy as most of the girls look disgusted. "Yes!" Owen punches the air. "That was excellent, man." Trent high fives him, Heather scoffs. "Well, you're not going to do that in this contest. That's disgusting." She exasperates.

"Do you know how hard it is to burp the entire alphabet in one go?" Trent stands up for the bigger blond boy who ends up ruining it by bending over. "I can also toot Beethoven Fifth."

"No! No, no, no." The girls try to shield themselves. "Owen." Lindsay whines, Gwen starts to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Heather integrates her. "Anywhere that's not here." She carries on with where she was heading.

We move on from whatever that was and Heather shows us her ballet moves, wearing a light pink leotard and tu-tu. We all clap at the end. "Thank you." Everyone continues to clap and she looks over at her minions, clearing her throat. "Oh, I vote for Heather to be in the contest!" The blonde one out of the two raises her hand. "I second that." Beth agrees. "Guys, that's so sweet. Okay, so I guess I'm in. Why doesn't everyone take five?" She disbands everyone. "Except you [Name]! Wait right there!" Heather calls after me, I scrunch my nose in confusion but do as I'm told, leaning against the porch railing as she talks to Lindsay about something.

She gives the girl a walkie talkie then shoves her away.

"What did you need me for?" I quiz as she walks up to me. "I thought about what you said. I want to be friends. Real friends." She smiles, I glance around to see if this is some sort of joke since we're alone. "I'm serious." She folds her arms. "Okay." I shrug, going to head back inside the cabin. "Wait, that's it?" She exclaims loudly and I snicker. "We're friends now, what else do you want? A ceremony declaring it to everyone?" I joke, she stays silent for a moment. "I don't know, I just thought there was more to this."

I shake my head. "Nope, just acting normal. Can I go now?" I ask and she only nods in return.

I ended up joining the group by sitting on the picnic tables as Izzy did her audition. "I call this the dance!... Of the Rattlesnake!" She dances getting in Owen's face while making a noise, the bigger boy actually looks hypnotized.

Then there was Beth, Lindsay and Heather joined us in watching more of the auditions. The shorter girl is twirling fire boutons. "Are you sure this is safe?" Heather gasps and the four of us lean back when she gets too close. "It's okay, I've been practicing." She throws them in the air but she runs when it starts to fall down and we all hide behind the tables.

"I kind of missed the catching class." We all crowd the burnt hole in the ground.

"Uh, guys the bush is on fire." Trent points. Justin comes out and extinguishes the fire out wearing sunshades. Leshawna brings him a bottle of water, for some reason he rips his shirt off while drinking the water. Everyone drools over him while I stand there not understanding what's going on.

"Okay, so I think it's me, Trent and Justin. Any objections?" Heather asks, everyone shakes their head and I just walk away. What's his talent though?

I sit in the cabin on Gwen's bed and start to read my book once again. I also changed into my bathing suit since it was getting hotter outside and I thought about going to the water.

I hear talking outside the door then it opens to reveal Gwen.

"Hey, I'm going to the water, wanna join?" she smiles, turning around to change, I stare down at my now closed book. "Mmm, I might not swim but of course I'll join you."I place the book down, averting my eyes from her as she finishes changing and we leave the cabin.

"You're joining here?" Heather scoffs. "Yeah, I'll see you later, darling!" I wave her goodbye jokingly using a fake British accent. "You two are friends?" Gwen turns to me and I shrug. "Sort of." I question it, myself. "Oh so you do charity now?" She jokes and I laugh. "I've been doing Charities for ever now, I got you, remember?" I tease and she gasps, playfully pushing me and we both burst into laughter.

We sit down on the dock and calm ourselves, watching the moves of the water.

"Sometimes I just need to get away from everyone here, you know?" She sighs, "I mean it's like they're all driving me crazy." She pauses then smiles at me. "Well, almost all of them." She blushes and I mentally gasp.

Does Gwen have a thing for me? No, I could be imagining things. The sun is bright today. My thoughts are cut short when the dock starts shaking. We look behind us to see Cody and Owen running down. "Cannonball!!!" Owen shouts, the two jumping and the water splashes mainly Gwen. "Ugh! I hate this place!" She storms off.

"Nice going you idiots." I shake my head. "Yeah, nice going guy.."

I huff, leaving the place as well and going towards the bathrooms. I hear crying from inside one of the stalls so I hesitantly head over to it. "Hey, is everything okay in there?" I ask a bit loudly so the person knows it's for them. "Mm, no but-" they sniffled. "I'll be fine, I guess." From the voice it sounds like Courtney. "Want to talk about it?" I offer, backing away from the door once I hear the person unlocking it and then coming out.

"Oh, it's you." She seems disappointed so I apologize.

"What's going on, pumpkin?" I go over to the sink, washing my hands and face. "Don't call me that and you're on the other team I'm not telling you anything." She folds her arms, her tears air drying on her face. "I get that but I can still be a friend to vent to." I look at her through the mirror, smiling.

She doesn't say anything, obviously considering it. "I'm sorry-" "Don't apologize, you're thinking of what's best for your team." I turn around and go up to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Good luck with the talent contest." I close my eyes smiling before heading out of the bathroom.

I join my team in sitting on the bleachers, being next to Gwen as usual.

"It's the T.D.I. Talent Extravaganza!" Chris shouts. "Welcome to the very first camp Wawanakwa talent contest, where six campers will showcase their mad skills and desperately try not to humiliate themselves. First up for the Screaming Gophers is Justin!" Chris declares, we clap and cheer for our teammate, and as he performs it's just him posing a bunch of different ways and then ending it with him leaning back in a chair and dumping water on himself.

"There are two syllables for hot, "Jus "" and "Tin." Man, that guy is just so hot I could kiss him." Owen's eyes go wide from what he just said. "Because he's a good teammate. Dah, why'd I say that?" He beats himself up.

"I don't see why people gawk at Justin. He's a man who uses his attractiveness to get this. Plus as I said. He's a man." [Name] rolls her eyes.

"Okay, I don't know what that was, but dang you got some moves, dude." Chris puts his thumb up and the Chef score moves pretty high. Eight out of Ten."First up for the Killer Bass, make some noise for the big guy, DJ!" He calls and DJ des some ribbon dance, but gets caught on the pink ribbon a few times.

"Dainty and Masculine, let's see what Grandmaster Chef thinks." It was only two points. "Not much." DJ frowns and sadly walks off the stage.

"So, with two down and four acts to go, it's the Screaming Gophers screaming ahead. Next on deck... Trent! Take it away my bro." The boy comes on stage with his guitar, sitting down on a stool. "This one goes out to someone special here at camp." I wince, and hide my face knowing it's for Gwen who does not reciprocate the same feelings. She acts oblivious, not knowing it's for her either. I zone out through the whole song, not wanting to cringe out.

Chris runs out at the last strum, "Nice work, I'm liking your style, dude. So does the Grandmaster Chef." He got half score and for some reason waves at the camera for a really long time.

"All right, quit hogging my light, buddy." Chris shoves him and I try not to laugh. "Three down and three to go, and the Killer Bass are totally sucking so far. Let's hear it for Bridgette."She doesn't come out right away and then shows up doing a handstand. Burping and then throwing up, projectile vomiting. "I'm hit! I'm hit!" Owen shouts.

She continues and hits Katie and Sadie who scream, Katie throwing up as well. And then hits most of my team with her vomit. Luckily Gwen and I didn't get hit.

The poor girl slips and falls off stage and onto tyler. "Hey, puke on your own boyfriend!" Lindsay shouts at the girl who was just sick all over the place. "On your own what, Lindsay?" Heather questions angrily, hands on her hips. "I didn't say boyfriend." The blonde back tracks.

Chris plugs his nose, coming back out on stage. "Clean up on aisle three, four, five and six. In the meantime, we'll take a short break to hose the joint down." He says.

"Going home won't be so bad. I could always work at the surf shack." Bridgette frowns, wiping a tear.

"Welcome back to the T.D.I talent Extravaganza! Okay, so in a strange turn of events, Bridgette's chunk-blowing fest registered two thumbs up by Grandmaster Chef. But it's not enough to pull ahead of the Screaming Gophers who hold the lead with Trents love song. So without further delay here she is for the leaders... Heather!" Chris announces and the girl walks out on stage, sitting on a stool.

"Originally, I was going to dance for you but instead I want to celebrate team spirit with a collaboration." She holds out a familiar book, I tilt my head. She gently shakes it a bit, staring at Gwen. "She wouldn't." Gwen whispers after gasping and I sat there in shock. "No fucking way." I shake my head. "So with words by Gwen, performance by me, enjoy." She clears her throat before reading it off.

"Okay, so I tried just being her friend, but she's just so cute. If they were trying to find the perfect person to distract me with her they got the right one, McGorgeous. We just totally connect. She's pretty much the only person I trust and relate to here and I know it's a cliche but I love how different we are but also so similar. She's so nice to everyone! Even Heather."

Gwen slides off the bleacher and runs off, I furrow my eyebrows in anger. "Thank you," Heather closes the book and makes eye contact with me. I flip her off then run after Gwen.

"People thought I was mean to Gwen. Whatever. All I needed was four votes against Justin. Lindsay and Beth were easy. Izzy's just crazy and Owen, piece of cake." She looks at her nails.

Owen's eating a piece of cake giggling. "Piece of cake." He hums.

I finally catch up with Gwen who was holding herself. "Hey-"

"Could you please save me the embarrassment for right now." She cries out, not looking at me and I frown at the sight.

"But-"

"Please, we can talk later on." She pleads and walks away and I decide to listen to her, plopping down on a tree stump to think about everything that just went down.

"Kudos to you all for an incredible night of entertainment, music, drama, barfing." We all hold our marshmallows and now Gwen is avoiding me so I stand next to Leshawna, staring down at the white fluff in my hands.

"There's only one marshmallow on this plate. Justin you reminded us all that looks matter a lot. And Heather you're full of surprises, but reading another chick's diary out loud to the whole world? Man, that is whack. No kidding, that's really messed up dude." Chris talks in a serious tone which was weird to see since he likes the drama that radiates off of us but even he can admit that what Heather did was extremely wrong.

"Oh, please, just give me my marshmallow already." Heather rolls her eyes. "Justin, I personally think this is very wrong, but tonight hotness just wasn't enough. The last Marshmallow goes to Heather." Chris says with disappointment laced in his voice.

"Time to catch the boat of losers, bruh." Justin sadly walks away. "Later, bruh." Heather waves to him, eating her marshmallow.

"If that evil little cow thinks she's getting away with this she has another thing coming." Gwen states.

"Befriending Heather was the worst move I have made all summer, and it's just begun." [Name] huffs.

The camera catches Gwen knocking on the door to reveal Harold. "You mentioned you brought a red ant farm with you, correct?"

"Yes." He nods.

Next clip is Heather running out of the cabin screaming with ants all over her.

"Sweet dreams everyone." Gwen giggles, closing her eyes to go to sleep.

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