#ive been searching it for 6 months

[projectniko]

Dungeon meshi, out of context, part 5? Wow, my blog is slowly turnin into a dunmeshi blog...

Anyways, look at him! He's so happy!

[kindaorangey]

so my supervisor basically screwed me over a few weeks ago by telling me that i wasn't supposed to refer to secondary sources extensively in the main body of my thesis and that i should reserve that for my short historiography which is, ahem, Not True, so i'm currently in the extremely strange process of injecting the History Essay back into my History Essay

[dare-g]

So stoked that someone put Plastic Utopia online

[lavahu]

.

[phagodyke]

I have to be up for work in 3 hours and I'm gonna be real I think ive hit the point where I might not be getting any sleep at all. for fucks sake.

[stil-lindigo]

You'r eunder no obligation to reply but I'd like to ask, how do you keep your head up these days considering the genocide? It's been nearly five months now, my entire family is giving up the stirke and falling into propoganda, and every time i think "surely this is the end, no way the us will keep supporting this, israel is on limited time" i keep seeing no end in my twitter feed to the countless losses, i keep seeing gore and childrens butchered on my tiktok. i dont wanna lose hope or faith but ive started feeling so depressed these days that i dont even wanna open my social media because i know what ill see. it might sound selfish but i hope i can open up my tiktok and see silly little people doing trends again instead of seeing one between 6 posts asking to use filters so that they can donate and detailing the necessities that israel banned from palestine and it just feels so soul crushing and hopeless. it makes me feel worse because if im tired of it then how do palestanians cope being in it? if you have any tips or good news id be grateful

hi anon. A lot of what Palestinians report first-hand is graphic, and horrifying, and would contribute to that soul-crushing feeling. But they are so tenacious, they have so much love for their people, their country. Often, Bisan or Motaz or Plestia when she was still in Gaza will share little slices of joy from displaced Palestinians. It reinvigorates me, and I'll often return to watch them when things seem dire.

A baby in Gaza, blessedly unaware of the horrors. Look at that smile!

A Palestinian mother makes donuts for her children, and offers Bisan one as she prepares for an interview. She (the mother) talks about how she makes treats like this to try to cheer up her children, how she keeps herself busy like this so she can't feel the grief of the situation. It is expensive to buy firewood these days, and flour. At her side, her children chip away at a block of wood to help her.

if you'd like to support people like this family, donate to CareforGaza, which directly distributes supplies and money to families in need. They have stopped donations to their Gofundme campaign due to overwhelming support, but you can still donate via the paypal link in their bio.

Young Palestinians parkour in the ruins of Gaza, to show that Israeli bombing will not kill their spirits.

Mo, a Palestinian man, buys cat food after searching for two days straight, and feeds the stray cats in Gaza.

Palestinian children at a refugee camp filming a cute video.

Although they've lost their home, a Palestinian family gather to celebrate their youngest child's birthday, complete with a small cake and a birthday hat.

Bisan makes bread in Khan Younis.

Palestinians celebrate the birthday of an injured girl in hospital, with a small cake. One of them has dressed up as a clown.

After losing 22 members of his family and being injured in a bombardment, a Palestinian man named Mohammed Al Ghandour marries his fiance in a tent.

A Palestinian journalist plays with a baby who survived an airstrike.

@/nisreendiary on TikTok documents the process of making fresh bread in a tent in a calming video.

I got most of these off twitter, from this thread. Twitter is a hellscape at the best of times, but the easy communication it provides is a blessing. I'll try to share more of the good news here, as they pop up. In the future, I recommend you follow Eye on Palestine, or Al Jazeera if you'd like to stay informed on the situation in Gaza with minimal scrolling.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 6 - I've Been Searching for a Fortified Defense

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: As we begin our first 5-digit word count chapter (I can’t be stopped, someone take away my keyboard) and I find a stride of about two chapters per week, I want to say that: A) I fully intend on finishing this story. I plotted out the whole thing before I started, have made a few adjustments given the pacing I’ve done so far, and with how it’s broken down right now we’ll reach the end in 2-3 months. B) Thank y’all from the bottom of my heart for reading! If you have theories or thoughts or feedback please don’t hesitate to share them! I love hearing what you think of the plot and the characters, and every interaction means the world to me. Whether you’re only reading or leaving comments as well, thank you so damn much. I’ll see you next chapter (it’s gonna be a doozy) <3

Chapter Title from Bells in Santa Fe by Halsey.

Word Count: 11.2k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: You throw a punch, and Phase One: Operation Quick and Bald goes. Not well, but it goes. Contains usual warnings.

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

Read on A03!

Chapter 5 - Chapter 7

Taglist: @lordofthunderthr @kritara

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

Ben dodged the third punch in a row, grinning widely right up until the fourth one landed on his face.

“Ha!” She yelled, drawing back to shake her first out. “Take that, you weirdly fast man.”

Ben rolled his eyes, rubbing his face lightly. It hadn’t hurt—he’d barely even felt it—but She was being real fucking smug for someone who’d only just landed a hit after a damn week of attempting to do so.

“Yeah, sure, Sunshine. Keep it the fuck up, and at this rate it’ll only take you another couple thousand years to surpass Muhammad Ali.”

She raised her brows at Ben, pausing with a tilt of her head. “You were a fan of Muhammad Ali?”

He nodded, giving her a scrunched look of annoyance. “I’m a fucking American, and there ain’t nothing more red-blooded American than punching commies like that son of a bitch did.”

“What?”

“When he fought the Russian, and won. That’s fucking American.”

“Ben, you’re thinking of the plot of Rocky IV.”

“No, Muhammad Ali fought that Russian pussy and kicked his fucking ass.”

“No, Sylvester Stallone fought the Russian pussy and kicked his fucking ass. In a movie.” She laughed to herself. “I’m shocked you even saw Rocky IV, let alone were so impacted by it to let the plot override your knowledge of a real life person.”

“Shut up,” Ben grunted, moving his hands back to a defensive stance. She fucking always won these stupid arguments, and Ben couldn’t actually prove it, but he knew She was changing the fucking internet she loved so damn much to match her claims. “Go again.”

“Someone missed nap time.” She muttered under her breath, even though she knew Ben could fucking hear her, but put her fists up anyways. “Can this be the last one? I’m hungry.”

Instead of answering, Ben just launched himself at her, and She jumped to the side with a yelp.

“What the fuck, Ben!”

He turned and threw another punch, feeling pleased at the smooth way she ducked away and met it with a punch of her own. Her face had lost the pissy shock, laser-sharp concentration replacing it. Her eyes were narrowed, darting across Ben as he moved, her bobbing and weaving wasn’t entirely shit, and her heart was controlled with her breathing. She landed her second punch, this one on his shoulder, and Ben laughed, delivering one of his own.

“Christ, Sunshine, you’re fucking weak.” He laughed, examining Her carefully for any loss of control.

“I’ll kill you with my bare hands, Bitch.” She growled, lunging forward and grunting in frustration as Ben dodged with ease.

“That’s my line.” He taunted. “And you couldn’t even kill a man with an assault rifle if he was a fucking foot away from you.”

“Blow me.”

“I’ve been fucking trying- Fuck!” She landed her third punch, and it burned. Ben reached to touch where she’d hit and felt the skin mending across his jaw.

She was grinning in a wide, toothy, satisfied way. “Suck on that, cunt.”

“Bitch,” he muttered, looking down at his hand to see it raw and red from the contact with his face, with some of his fucking hair stuck to it.

“Did you burn off my fucking beard!” His head shot up to see a half-sheepish, half-amused look on her face, lips curled and eyes wide.

“Oops.���

He yelled her name, and she had the fucking nerve to giggle. “We said no fucking powers!”

“I forgot.” She said lamely, her face less and less apologetic by the second, giggling again as she offered some of the most insincere comfort Ben had ever heard. “It’s not even that noticeable! You look just as good as before!”

His anger faded, and he gave Her a cocky smirk, raising his brows. “You think I look good, Sunshine?”

“I’m being nice. Don’t ruin it.” She muttered, her face adorably flushed, and Ben didn’t miss the skip of her heart.

“Whatever keeps you up at night.”

“That’s not the phrase.”

He winked. “I know.”

She scoffed and turned away, but not before Ben could see the slight smile on her lips. “I’m going to shower, I’ll meet you in the living room in fifteen. If you’re not there, with food, I’m eating the TV.”

Ben frowned, calling after Her figure moving down the hall. “Has the TV been edible this whole fucking time and you didn’t fucking tell me?!”

Her laughter echoed back down the hall. "You're real fucking gullible, grampa!"

“You know I can’t fucking tell when you’re joking about that shit, you bitch!”

“Fourteen minutes, cunt!”

“How the fuck am I supposed to make food in fourteen minutes?!”

“You’re a big boy, you’ll figure it out!”

Grumbling a string of cusses Ben hoped She could fucking feel, Ben grabbed a cup of instant noodles and threw them in the microwave, wondering if She would notice if he spit in hers. After pulling them out, grabbing two spoons from the counter that he almost immediately bent, spilling one of the cups as he noticed the damaged utensils, spilling the other when he noticed the first spill, and having to start the whole damned fucking thing over, Ben made his way to drop on the couch next to where She sat, wet hair clinging to her pretty face.

“Heard a lot of swearing, Pretty Boy, everything ok?”

He grunted, shoving Her noodles against her chest and letting go, not giving a fuck if she had a grip on them. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Just asking a question,” he could hear her shit-eating grin. “Thought it was a free country. Thought a patriot like you would appreciate me exercising my first amendment right.”

“That protects you from the government, not me.” Ben parroted back the words She had yelled at him after he’d made the apparently fucking fatal mistake of saying “first amendment right” in her presence.

She chuckled, her voice teasing. “Didn’t know you were capable of retaining information about something other than yourself.”

“Well, your tits were looking great while you were bitching. It helped.” He grabbed the remote, raising it to the TV. “I made food. I’m picking what we watch.”

“If you pick Game of Thrones so you can watch the sex scenes again, I’m figuring out a way to kill myself and doing it on your bed.”

“Whatever gets you in my bed, Sunshine.” He winked. “And I’m invested in the fucking plot, it’s not just the sex scenes.”

“It’s mostly the sex scenes.” She said, not even flinching at his flirtation. “Just go watch porn. See how fast you can break the fleshlights. If you do all three in ten minutes, Butcher owes me twenty dollars.”

Ben scowled, not enjoying that She’d apparently been making fucking bets with Butcher about his masturbation. “I can last longer than ten fucking minutes, I’m not a fucking pussy.”

“Prove it.”

He grinned widely at Her as her face flushed adorably, her own phrasing catching up with her head. “I’d be honored, Sunshine.”

“You’re like a fucking rabbit in heat.” She muttered. “And if you do last longer than ten, Hughie gets the money, so keep that in mind when you’re jerking it to dragon boobs after I go to bed.”

“The dragons don’t have any fucking boobs, dumbass, the fucking hot lady queens do.” Ben said smugly, ignoring her eye roll. “And I would ‘jerk it’ in the privacy of my room, but someone won’t give me a fucking phone.”

“Yeah, the CIA. I’d actually back you up with Mallory, Pretty Boy. I think giving you a phone would be really entertaining.”

“I don’t need your fucking help.” He snapped, and she laughed.

“Can’t rely on just a handsome face to convince her that you somehow deserve the internet.”

“Handsome face?” He grinned at her, and only the slight stutter of her heart told Ben she heard him.

She made a mock face of thought. “Maybe if we suggested parental controls…”

“I’ll kill you, bitch.”

“I’ll make you the most useless and sad eunuch to ever grace this sorry planet, cunt.”

Ben glared at Her, and she reached over his arm to press play on the remote.

Most of the days since the failed Sister Sage mission had been like this. She and Ben got up, trained, ate, trained more, and then watched TV with dinner until She retreated to her room and Ben fought sleep for the rest of the night, alone. Neither of them mentioned how he’d saved her, or how She had started a habit of slapping Ben awake—he was pretty fucking certain that at this point she had figured out another way to break through the nightmares but was purposely choosing to fucking hit him instead—before she’d sit next to him for an hour or two after. Ben liked this unspoken arrangement, and liked even more how She had silently agreed to it. Just because he didn’t actively hate Her right now didn’t mean he was about become a sniveling pussy mess about feelings. Even if the lack of active hatred had morphed into something pulsing in his chest that he didn’t understand, and didn't fucking want to. Making Her instant noodles and not killing her when she lied to him for fun or called him “Pretty Boy” was as far as Ben would bend.

It had been mostly radio silence from the Boys, though Butcher and Cocksucker had visited two days after they’d dropped Her and Ben back at the safe house, as Cocksucker had managed to break his arm. There had been a long, incredibly boring and poorly told story as to how the injury had occurred, involving a supe, Nikola Tesla and something called a Cybertruck, but Ben had pretty much tuned out the entire fucking conversation once he realized they weren’t here for him at all. The only thing that had kept him from retreating to his room for the duration of the visit was the small falter in Her heart when she touched Cocksucker, her jaw clenched as Ben and Butcher watched Cocksucker’s arm heal into place in a fucking disgusting manner.

When She’d let go, she’d given Ben a weird fucking look with tight lips and sad eyes that he'd only seen before on Cocksucker. It had passed quickly, her face returning to apathetic and bored, her eyes regaining the sharp amusement they usually held, but fuck it had confused him. She and Butcher had started talking about missions and planning and other mind-numbing shit, Cocksucker shaking out his arm as if he didn’t trust that it was healed, and Ben had needed to piss and gone to do just that. Before he’d left, he’d caught Her a look of where the hell are you’d going, he’d grinned back with a wink of why, you want to join me?, and she’d rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Butcher. When he’d returned, Butcher and Cocksucker had left and She was glaring at him, arms across her chest.

“Are you an idiot, or just a dick?” She’d snapped.

He’d frowned at Her, trying to figure out what had made her all fucking bitchy. As far as Ben was concerned, he’d been fucking amazing, only calling Butcher a pussy twice and managing to refrain from talking to Cocksucker at all. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Butcher told me we’re moving on operation Quick and Bald soon. He told me you knew. Why didn’t you fucking tell me?!”

“Oh,” Ben had rolled his eyes. “I forgot.”

“You forgot?”

He’d shrugged. “Well, you fucking know now, so get over it. And what kind of fucking shit codename is Quick and Bald?”

“Fuck you, it’s an accurate and descriptive name.”

“How the fuck could that be ‘accurate and descriptive’?”

“Because two key factors of this phase of my plan are the quick and the bald.”

“Your plan?”

“Yeah, my fucking plan. That I fucking deserved to know the status of.” She’d scowled. “Butcher says it’s almost ready. He’ll get us in two days once it’s in place.”

That had been five days ago. Starlight and Cocksucker had dropped in after two days, full of apologies and updates that Ben didn’t give a fuck about, and when he’d asked Her for more information about the plan, she’d told him to “suck her dick and shove his questions up his ass until they reached his brain.”

So Ben still had no fucking clue what Quick and Bald was about.

Aside from Her lingering anger at him for apparently having the fucking nerve to ask questions about the jobs he had to do—an opinion he had made the mistake of voicing, leading the unwelcome lesson on the first amendment—She was being impossibly easy to talk to, and Ben was getting dangerously close to not only enjoying her company, but finding her comfortable. Part of him was hoping she’d say something very, very soon that would allow him to grip onto hatred, or at least indifference, for the rest of his time in this stupid fucking situation.

Instead, in a way that made Ben think God himself was out to fucking get him, he’d started to tell her things. Fucking voluntarily.

One of those nights where sleep had gripped his head and pulled him under, struggling and roaring, he’d woken up once more from only the force and sting of her hand across his face. She’d sat next to him again, and he’d asked her more questions about before, all of which she’d answered with a faraway, insufferably sad look in her eyes.

“How many siblings did you fucking have again?” He’d pressed once.

“Four,” She’d responded, a wistful smile on her face. “Two brothers, two sisters. All younger.”

“Your parents had four more kids after you? What, were you that fucking annoying they needed to try again four fucking times?”

“No, I was just so adorable they needed to try and recreate my perfection. Once they realized that was impossible, they gave up.” She’d smirked, and Ben hated that somehow he didn’t doubt her words. “Well,” she’d mused to herself. “That and they fell violently out of love with each other.”

“Violently?” He’d made a face, and she’d nodded solemnly.

“I shielded my siblings from a lot of flying plates.”

Ben found another thing to hate. Her parents, and how fucking sad she looked. “You miss them?”

“My parents?” She’d snorted. “I miss my dad. I hope my mom gets her head popped.”

He’d coughed to cover a laugh. “No, you fucking smartass. Your siblings.”

Her answer was quick and soft. “Every fucking day.”

Ben had grunted, watching the distance return to her face, and before he could stop himself, he was talking. “I didn’t have any siblings.”

Before he could curse himself out and try to distract Her with something else, she had been looking back at him with wide, focused eyes. “Do you wish you did?”

“I never thought about it,” he’d muttered. “My father was such a fucking dick I’m surprised he even got my mother to marry him, let alone fucking have one kid. I think he hated me enough to never fucking risk it again.”

“Risk it?” She’d kept her voice impossibly gentle as she’d asked, and it made his skin crawl all weird.

“I was the biggest fucking regret of his life. If he could go back and stop me from happening in the first place, make my mother flush me out, he wouldn’t have fucking hesitated.”

She’d paused, and a very fucking stupid part of Ben had thought she was going to let the conversation go. Of course, he should’ve fucking known by now that She damn well wouldn’t.

“What was your mom like?”

He hadn’t fucking expected that, and it had shocked him enough to answer. “Kind. Too kind for my father, he saw it as fucking weakness and told her all the fucking time. But she was so fucking kind.” He took a heavy breath. “She was full of love, and I have no fucking clue how. It was fucking stupid, all her love, even for my piece of shit father. He’d yell at her and threaten her and mock her, but she still fucking loved him. She fucking loved everything.”

Her voice was still gentle from beside him. “Like what?”

“Animals. Cats specifically. My father had all these fucking hunting dogs he loved more than anything, certainly more than me, and the only good thing he ever fucking did was trade one to get her a cat. It was massive, fluffy and gray, and it was a fucking asshole to everyone but her. It ate like a fucking elephant, shed like a whore in summer, but she loved it so fucking much.” At this point Ben had really wished he would shut the fuck up, but he couldn’t, and he was going to have to figure out a way to blame Her for that later. “She loved art. Painting. She tried to get me to love it too, even though I could barely draw a fucking worm. But I’d try, and she’d frame all my stupid, shitty drawings and hang them around the house until my father saw them and threw them in the trash. She loved music but couldn’t carry a tune if her life fucking depended on it. They’d go to the opera because my father would donate a ton for the publicity, and she’d come back all damn giddy. I’d wait up, just because she was fucking contagious when she was that happy. Even my father felt it, enough to just go straight to bed and not kick my ass for still being awake. She was fucking smart, too. Real fucking smart. My father would joke he wished she was a man, because then her brain would be useful. She would’ve fucking jumped for joy if she saw the world now. Met a fucking woman doctor.” He paused, looking back down at Her beside him. She hadn’t looked away from him, and there was none of the pity he’d expected to see on her face. It was just open, listening intently to his words with no malice or trickery behind her eyes.

“She sounds amazing.” She’d said softly, a small smile he didn’t understand on her face. “And your dad sounds like a fucking cunt.”

Ben had chuckled in surprise. “Fucking understatement of the damn year, Sunshine. That pussy would’ve tried to pry your degree from your fucking hands.”

“Let him try, I’d burn his fucking face off and laugh while I did it.”

“What were you even going to fucking do with a PhD in archeology?" He’d asked, and she’d huffed a small laugh.

“Anthropology, Pretty Boy. But nice guess.” She corrected. “And I’m honestly not sure. I’d quite literarily only just actually received the degree before everything… changed.” She’d sighed. “I had a few job offers, but mostly in academia and business. What I wanted was to work with nonprofits to help people.”

“Help people?” He’d given her a disbelieving stare. “With a prissy fucking degree?”

“Yeah, dickwad. Help people. I was a cultural anthropologist. I specialized in the evolution of cultures and ways to combat systemic cultural oppression.”

He’d stared at Her blankly. “You’re going to have to take down the fucking fancy talk by seven, Sunshine.”

“I studied how the government and culture is mean to people on purpose, and how to make them stop being mean.” She’d said flatly.

“Oh.” He’d rolled his eyes at the dirty look she was giving him. “Oh, fuck off. It wasn’t that painful to say.”

“Yes, it was.” She’d mumbled, narrowing her eyes at him. “You’re not going to argue with me?”

“What’s there to fucking argue about?”

“I just called your beloved country an ‘oppressive system’.” She’d watched him wearily, but her heart remained steady. “Doesn’t it mar your refined American nationalism?”

“Do you fucking want me to be mad?” Ben had asked, raising his brows at her. “I can definitely find it in me, that’s not a fucking issue. But usually when we fight about this shit, you get all bitchy and don’t talk to me for way too fucking long.”

“I mean, no, I don’t want you to get mad…” She’d frowned, examining him with yet another fucking confusing look. “Does it really bother you when I ignore you?”

“No.” He’d snapped quickly. “It’s just annoying, and I don’t like having to fucking deal with it.”

She’d hummed with an amused smile on her face, and the conversation had moved on to something else. Ben had shoved down the way it had been so easy to talk about his mother with her, until it was somewhere in his gut and he didn’t have to think about the way the feeling rolled around inside him.

And he refused to even acknowledge how when She would smile now, he’d have to fight himself to not do the same.

———-

It had been a week since the Sage incident, a week since Ben had saved your life—you'd locked everything about that particular action from what you thought of it to how it made you feel somewhere deep in your chest—and you were starting to lose your mind a little bit. When Annie and Hughie had stopped by with nervous words about delays in your meticulously prepared and incredibly well-detailed plan, you’d been willing to wait another day, maybe two, before executing operation Quick and Bald. Now it had been three days, burgeoning on four, and you were worryingly close to leaving the safe house just to yell at Butcher. Ben could stay here, or follow you and help you beat Butcher up for all you cared. Which was, admittedly, worrying within itself. Especially because the whole point of operation Quick and Bald was to take preventative measures against Ben’s needless brutality.

Over a month ago, right after you’d moved into the safe house and when you had been ready to throttle Ben’s neck every waking moment—an urge that hadn’t entirely waned, but was now undercut with a weirder, stronger urge to be near him without any murderous intent—you’d spent the hours quarantined in your room perfecting your plan to get Ryan Butcher the fuck out of dodge. When they’d come to pick you and Ben up for the whole Neuman test, you’d left it in the van for Butcher to find, and had been waiting since for him to set up the dominoes so you could knock them over.

At this point, you’d be happy with not even “dominos to knock over” and just “one singular domino to throw at someone." You had begun to develop a habit of staring down the hall from the living room, trying to will someone to appear with at least a fucking update. So far this strategy was not working, and had apparently started to garner attention.

Sitting on the couch, the TV white noise in the background and noodles in your hand cold and forgotten, you felt a foreign rush of oddly tight concern run through your body. You frowned, heard your name from next to you, and turned to find that Ben had been poking your arm.

“Are you fucking alive?” He grunted, watching you with a frown.

“Literally? Yes.” You answered with a tight smile. “You have noodles on your face.”

He reached up to feel for them, not looking away from you. “What the fuck do you mean literally? How can you be fucking metaphorically alive?”

“Mind-body problem, Pretty Boy. And it’s not metaphorically, it’s philosophically.” You lean back, grinning.

“You’re a real fucking pretentious bitch sometimes.” He grumbled, still trying to find the food stuck to his beard.

“If you made me a shirt that said that, I’d wear it.”

“I’m not going to fucking make you a shirt, Sunshine. You couldn’t make me learn to fucking sow with a gun to my head.”

“Because the gun wouldn’t affect you at all?” You pointed to your own chin, mirroring where the noodle was caught.

He sneered. “Because I’m not a pussy.” His hand found the stray piece of his dinner, and he pulled it from his jaw.

“Big words from the man who took two tries to make me instant ramen- hey!” A wet noodle hits you in the face.

“Ramen your ungrateful ass didn’t even fucking eat.” Ben gave a pointed look at the abandoned cup in your hands, the food inside having long lost any heat. “Don’t fucking test me, or I’ll actually spit in your food next time.”

“Drama queen,” you muttered, peeking back at the door. “Like you don’t already do that.”

“I fight the urge to be a fucking bitch, unlike certain women.”

You nod absentmindedly. “Butcher.”

Ben snorted behind you, and a smile you hoped he didn’t see crept onto your face.

“Yeah, sure Sunshine.” His attention returned to the TV, and you did your best to not stare down the hall, trying to ignore the hope that the door now shrouded in darkness would open.

A successful effort that made you jump out of your seat when it did just that with an aggressive bang.

Ben was faster than you, practically launching himself over the sofa and bolting down the hall, a dangerous look of alarm the last thing you saw on his face before he was gone from the room.

“Shit, no! It’s me!” You heard a high-pitched shout from the shadows of the entrance. “It’s Hughie!”

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You heard Ben’s growl of a response.

Butcher’s voice drawled from the shadows. “Oi, take a deep fucking breath and put the bloody kid down.” 

“Someone fucking answer me first.”

“Put him down, Soldier Boy, before we knock your ancient ass the fuck out.” The impatient, clipped words of MM responded, almost drowned out by Frenchie's shout.

“Can someone turn on the fucking lights? It is as dark as Monsieur Butcher’s heart and asshole!” 

“I- I don’t feel good.” Hughie’s voice stuttered.

“Ben!” You flicked on the hallway sconces, illuminating a scene of Ben’s full body weight pressing Hughie to the wall, Butcher and MM trying with practically negative success to pry him off, and Kimiko gripping one of Frenchie’s arms as his other groped around for direction. You let out a very long, very loud sigh. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“It’s fucking late,” he snapped, not letting Hughie go. “They shouldn’t be here so fucking late.”

“This ain’t your real house, Mate.” Butcher grunted, still trying to move Ben. “We can be here whenever we bloody well please.”

Hughie wheezed out your name in a pleading tone. “Your plan is ready. We’re here to- fuck- we’re here to get you.”

That got you moving, crossing to the end of the hall in quick, frantic steps. “It’s ready? Are you sure?” Hughie gave a weak nod, and you rolled your eyes, shoving Ben shoulder. “Put him down, dumbass. He’s not a threat, and honestly, probably the worst one to have gone after. Just, like, strategically.”

Ben glared at you, but let go. He glanced at where MM and Butcher were still grabbing him, and gave them a venomous look that got them both to let go and take hasty steps back. He shot a glowering look of they could’ve fucking waited until the morning in your direction.

You wrinkled your nose at him. No. Shut the fuck up. You turned to Hughie, not even bothering to hide the desperation you felt in your imploring stare. “It’s all ready? All of it? A-Train agreed to help? We’re sure Ashley has the information? We’re sure neither one is going to tell Homelander, and we’re not about to walk into a fucking trap?”

“Yes, yes, yes, kind of, and yes.” Butcher counted off on his fingers as he answered. “But we’ve got to go right fucking now.”

“Kind of?” Anxious energy rushed through you—that still-strange feeling lighting under your skin—and you ignored the weird look Ben shot you as it did. “What do you mean, kind of? If you fucked this up, Butcher, I swear to God-"

“Calm the fuck down, Love.” Butcher snapped. “It’s going to be fine, we’ll explain on the way. But we need to go fucking now if you want this to work.”

You gave a sharp nod, starting to pull on your boot, glancing up with a pause when you heard Hughie say your name behind you.

“Do you, uh, do you want to get dressed first?” His voice was still slightly weak as he recovered from Ben’s force.

You glanced down at your body, and decided that the oversized shirt and cloth shorts would be fine. They were from the CIA spring fire-proof collection, and that was more than enough. “Nope. Let’s fucking move.”

You were halfway to the door when a crash sounded behind you, and you whirled around to see MM firmly blocking Ben’s path, the crash seeming to have been Hughie stumbling into the wall in an attempt to get away from the standoff.

“You’re not coming, Soldier Boy. This is a goddamn delicate operation, and you’re the fucking reason we have to do it in the first place. We can’t afford you throwing a tantrum and screwing us.”

“I’m fucking coming, and it’s not up for fucking debate.”

Off to the side, Frenchie snickered as Kimiko signed how many times do you think he’s said that before?

Ben shot them an annoyed look, his fists clenching. “What’s so fucking funny?”

“Nothing,” Frenchie snickered, and his tone was so remarkably unconvincing that even if you hadn’t understood Kimiko, you wouldn’t have believed him.

Ben grunted and tried to move past MM, again to no avail.

He glared down at the firmly planted man, a familiar violent glint in his eyes. “You better fucking move now, before I make you.”

“Do your fucking worst, we’ll put you right back in the box. You’re not coming with us.”

“MM,” you said firmly, watching Ben's fists clench as the dangerous glint returns to his eyes. “We need to go.”

MM looks back at you, but remains in his place. “Are you fucking serious? You’re siding with him?”

“I’m not siding with him.” You keep your voice level, ignoring Ben’s smug face and grin. “We can’t leave him. The I go where he goes thing unfortunately goes both ways.”

“The safe house will hold him for five hours.” MM pushed, and before you could even shake your head, Ben cut in.=

"No, it won’t.”

You shoot him a look that says you’re being unhelpful, and he just returns it with his own of fuck off, you know you fucking want me there.

“Please, MM. He’ll stay quiet in the background, or I’ll burn his dick off. Right?” You direct your last words at Ben, giving him a pointed agree with me or I’m knocking you out and leaving you here look.

“Yeah, whatever. But I’m not staying in the fucking van like a pussy. And you’d better explain what the fuck is happening on the way, Sunshine.”

“Deal. But first they,” You narrowed your eyes at Butcher. “Have some explaining of their own to do.”

“Don’t lose your bloody mind, Love, it’s all in order.” Butcher said breezily, shoving past you to open the door. He gave a dramatic wave of his arm for you to exit, and with a look of doubt, you did.

The car ride was already poised to be uncomfortable. Butcher’s car was not equipped for seven people, let alone seven people where three were very large men, three were supes, and nobody wanted to have physical contact with two. As such, Butcher drove, MM sat in the front, you found yourself squished against one window with Ben between you and a remarkably uncomfortable Hughie, as Kimiko sat, slightly elevated onto their laps, between Frenchie at the other window, and Hughie. It was overall an unideal situation, made worse as your own frustration was amplified by Ben’s, and by Hughie revealing that it was, in fact, not all in order.

Your phase one, the original operation Quick and Bald had called for Ashley Barrett’s complete cooperation. You’d even painstakingly outlined all the potential ways to flip her—most involving something along the lines of hey, wouldn’t a job that didn’t make you so stressed you rip out all your hair and have to buy a bunch of wigs be nice?—and different ways to keep Homelander from finding out about her betrayal—Spain was lovely this time of year, and had a thriving BDSM community Ashley would love. While MM had managed to take care of your instructions for A-Train, the half of the plan you’d incorrectly anticipated to be more difficult, the Ashley situation was, in Butcher’s words, very fucking delicate, but we’ve adapted and everything will be bloody fine, so trust me and don’t be a fucking cunt about it.

You did not trust him. I didn’t help that you’d asked for any other possible details, and he’d pretended he couldn’t hear you. This suspicion was confirmed when, despite your incredible clarity that you would never step foot there again, Butcher seemed to be driving right to Vought Tower.

Your eyes had been steadily widening, panic starting to run through you the closer and closer you got, and you flinched when you felt Ben’s roughly shoulder nudge your own.

“What’s fucking wrong with you?” He’d asked in a low voice, barely audible over Hughie’s rambling explanation.

“You should listen,” you mutter back, trying to shut out the confusing concern he always seemed to feel at you, how it felt remarkably genuine, but was laced with anger that felt like it was trying to push out of your body. “Hughie’s explaining the plan.”

“Yeah, but all I have to fucking do is stay quiet, and I get to keep my dick. You’re being fucking twitchy and silent, and your heart is beating faster than it has all damn day, so don’t even try to fucking lie and tell me it’s fine.”

“It is fine, I’m fine-“ You paused as his words sank in. “Wait, what do you mean my heart-“

“Alright, here we go.” Butcher cut off both you and Hughie with a clap of his hands. “Everyone bloody out, let’s get this shitshow on the road.”

“Butcher,” you said, looking around to see you’d parked directly across from the tower entrance. “What the fuck are we doing here?”

“We’re meeting them right there.” MM answered for Butcher, pointing out of his window to something you couldn’t see. “It’s almost midnight, and Annie’s been making sure nobody gets inside but us.”

“But why?” You protest, even as MM leaves the car. “This,” you give a wide, general wave that hits Ben in the nose. “Cannot be the only option.”

“Both of them still have their trackers,” Hughie leans forward with an apologetic look as Frenchie and Kimiko exit the car. “This will look like they’re just getting a midnight snack, and hopefully Homelander won’t get suspicious.”

“Hopefully?!” You feel a rush of anger—not yours—and a twist of fear deep within your gut—absolutely yours. “Hopefully fucking Homelander won’t get suspicious?!”

Hughie gave an uncertain nod before very quickly scrambling to get out of the car. You take a long, deep breath, trying to steel yourself. A rush of what was becoming a familiar fuming and brittle concern ran through you. You look at Ben, to find his eyes locked firmly onto yours.

“Sorry about hitting-“

“I know how to hot-wire a car.”

You blink at him, taken aback by the firmness of his voice. “What?”

His hand moved to grip your thigh, his gaze not wavering. “I know how to hot-wire a car.”

You give him a flat look. “Yeah, I heard you the first time. Why are you telling me that?”

His frustration leaked into you. “Because say the word, I’ll steal Butcher’s car, and we’ll fucking leave.”

“What? Are you insane?”

“You look like you’re either going to start fucking crying or burst into flames, and this is a stupid fucking idea.”

“This was my plan.” You snap. “And I’m not stealing Butcher’s car. Why do you even know how to hot-wire a car anyway?”

Ben’s grip tightened. “No, your plan was stupidly well fucking thought out.”

“That’s an oxymoron.” You mutter, and he ignores you.

“And even if they haven’t completely fucking blown the execution, they completely squashed any chance of safety.”

“It’ll be fine,” you say, the words sounding fake even as you say them. “It’s late. He’s probably asleep.”

“What if he’s not?” His concern was starting to move to your throat, and there was something else, something sitting far deeper in your chest, beating and beating against you. Against you.

“Ben.” You place your hand over his. “I’ve worked too hard on this. This is the only way, and it will be fine.” You say the last words firmly and clearly, trying to make them sink into you. “Now take your fucking hand off of me, and get out of the damn car.”

He pulls himself from you, and even as his touch leaves, the concern and beat linger until he’s gone from the car. You drag yourself across the seats and ignore Hughie’s offer of a hand as you duck out of the car and onto the curb. You notice the 24 hour diner MM must have been pointing out almost immediately, half because—aside from an incredibly sketchy looking deli a few doors down—it’s the only building with its lights still on, and half because two very flustered teenagers are sulking away from the entrance, where Annie stands with her arms crossed. She’s already spotted your group, and has angeled her head in a signal to join her.

“You’re late.” She chides as you approach.

“Well, Starlight, I’d apologize, but it was those two fuckheads,” Ben and MM both receive a jabbed thumb over Butcher’s shoulder. “Who decided to draw out the bloody carpool process.”

“I told you not to call me Starlight anymore, Butcher.” Annie snaps, not giving him a chance to respond before she turns to you. “A-Train is, somehow, running behind as well. Hopefully Ashley’s just being resistant to getting food with him, but they’ll be here.”

“Isn’t running that pussy’s whole fucking thing?” Ben muttered, quiet enough for only you to hear. You step as hard as you can on his foot.

“Shut it, Pretty Boy.” You whisper over his grunt of what probably is more emotional pain than physical.

“Bitch.” He hisses back.

“Cunt.” You raise your voice so the others can hear you. “We should go inside, it’s risky to just… stand here.”

With nervous looks around and stuttered agreements, you all make your way into the diner. The lights are flickering, and it’s eerily empty with only a very nervous-looking blonde waitress at the counter. She makes a very big show of asking how many are in your party, leading you to a large, round table, and laying out the menus with shaky hands. Kimiko, Hughie, Annie, and MM try and offer her comforting smiles, though MM’s is strained as he keeps a vigilant glare on Ben. The waitress is staring at Ben herself, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, glacing back as she leaves to get your and Butcher’s coffee, Annie and MM’s tea, Kimiko and Hughie’s milkshakes, and Ben and Frenchie’s orders of “the strongest alcohol you’ve fucking got.” Your personal bet was it was going to just be very old beer.

“Why is she fucking staring at me?” Ben muttered to you, watching the waitress as she walked away. “Did you fuck up my beard that bad?”

“Your beard looks literally the same.” You dismiss. “And it’s because, as far as the public knows, Maeve killed you in a heroic act of self-sacrifice to stop your evil, anti-American attacks. That, or she wants to fuck you.”

“Hm,” he looks back at you, settling down into his seat. “Am I allowed to bring guests into the safe house?”

“No.” You say, a little more curtly than you intended. Seeing his wide, cocky grin, you clairfy. “It’s a breach of security. She would need to pass a CIA vetting and be approved by, like, twenty people. I don’t think she’d do that just to fuck you.”

Ben shrugs, his smirk only growing. “You did.”

“I’m going to cut off your balls and feed them to you-“

“Hey,” MM cuts you off, saying your name in a brisk, hard tone from across the table. “They’re here.”

You snap your head to the door, where A-Train is practically pushing Ashley into the diner.

You hear her voice clearly over the recession pop humming from the speakers. “Why can’t we just go to the fucking deli? They make these amazing meatball subs and supes eat free, so you could order for both of us- oh fuck no.”

“Oh, shit.” MM mutters, jumping to his feet with Butcher and Annie as Ashley notices them, and promptly tries to dash for the exit.

You don’t entirely blame her. You’d probably do the same. You had done the same, an unhelpful voice reminds you.

“I- Am- Not-“ Ashley is trying to get past A-Train, who hasn’t given up trying to herd her further into the diner. “Fuck- this-“

“Ashley, just listen to them, I fucking swear-“

“Why should I trust you?!” Ashley doubles over, out of breath. “You fucking tricked me! Midnight snack my fucking ass- Fuck no!” She raises a crooked finger at Annie, who has stopped in front of her. “Get the fuck away from me, you bitch.”

“Ashley, please listen to A-Train-“

“No! Just leave me the fuck alone! I don’t want to be a part of your weird fucking eye for an eye justice shit-“

“You kind of already are.” MM says as he locks the door behind her. “You work for Vought, your it’s motherfucking CEO. That makes you a part of this, like it or not.”

“Not!” Ashley shouts. “I don’t care what you have to say! Homelander’s going to fucking kill me, oh my god.” She starts to hyperventilate. “If he finds out I was here, he’ll kill you-“ She points a shaky finger at A-Train. “And then make me go on fucking TV to explain why you’re missing, and then fucking kill me-“

Butcher scoffs. “Bloody hell, lady. Calm the fuck down, Homelander ain’t gonna find out.”

“You don’t know that!” She shrieked. “He knows fucking everything! Especially since fucking Sage joined!” She spins around frantically, and her wild eyes lock onto yours. “He knows about them!” A shaking finger jumps between you and Ben. “Fuck! He’s supposed to be fucking asleep and now he’s fucking not! And he was so fucking angry about her, I’ve never seen him so fucking angry-“

Whatever else Ashley stutters about Homelander’s anger is lost to you as the world freezes. The feeling isn’t just under your skin, it’s up your spine, in your blood, circling around your brain. It’s fucking everywhere and you can’t fucking breathe, her words looping around you.

He knows. He’s angry. He fucking knows. He’s fucking angry. He fucking knows and he’s fucking angry and he fucking knows and he’s fucking angry and-

A white hot, impossibly calm feeling crashes over you. It’s angry, hungry and angry, but it’s grounding, sharpening everything around you. Suddenly the world is back in complete focus, Ashley’s shrill rambling scraping at your ears, and in the distance that weird fucking rhythm is sounding. As the feeling in your body returns fully, you realize Ben’s hand is back on your thigh. You bounce it, looking up to give him a glare, and find he’s not even looking at you. Instead, his eyes are trained on Ashley, narrowed and cold. You give a small cough, and when he glances down at you, the feeling of anger stutters with something lighter, though only for a second.

You give another bounce of your leg, a look of move your damn hand or lose it taking over your face.

No, not until you calm the fuck down his scowl responds.

You huff, standing abruptly, and his hand falls off at the force of your movement. Suddenly you feel a lot less solid, but reason that your legs are shaky from the Homelander of it all, and if any situation calls for fractured nerves, it’s this one.

“Ashley.” You call across the diner, trying not to stutter or chew off your lip as her protests falters and attention turns to you. “If you know who I am, you know I wouldn’t be anywhere near here if we weren’t certain it was safe. Just have some food with us, listen, and then you can go.”

Ashley gives you a scowl that might surpass Ben’s but nods tightly, yanking her arm from where A-Train had been trying to hold her in place. You sit back down as the group at the door returns to their seats, the poor waitress pressing herself against the bar as they pass. Letting out a shaky, unsteady breath, you try and still yourself as you look out the diner window. City lights. Music.

City lights.

Music.

It was safe. He knows and he’s angry but was safe and there were city lights and music.

Your breathing was no longer coming in short, distressed bursts, but getting air in and out of yourself still felt like an act of labor, and you needed to get it the fuck together before Ashley sat down.

City lights. Music.

You can’t hear the song the diner is playing, instead letting your whole mind turn inward, allowing the ghost of music you can no longer sing to wash over you.

Ashley sits across from you right when you regain control, and from the corner of your eye, you see Ben pulling his hand from where it had been inching towards yours.

Her eyes flit, nerves poorly hidden, from you to Ben to Butcher to Annie and back to you, and her voice is high and shaky when she speaks. “Well?”

“Ashley, we need your help.” Annie leans forward, palms flat on the table.

“Well, then we’re done. I can’t help you. They don’t tell me anything, not really.” Ashley tries to stand, but her arm is caught by A-Train. “Really?” A-Train hisses as he pulls her back into her seat beside him. “They don’t tell you anything my ass, we sit in on all the same meetings. And I pulled these files-“ He pulls out a thumb drive from absolutely nowhere and drops it on the table. “Using your name, so you clearly have access to them.”

“What?!” Ashley looks at the thumb drive like it’s going to either explode or start jizzing on her blouse. “Why would you fucking do that?”

“Insurance.” A-Train answers smugly, the thumbdrive clearly having his intended. “I can’t open it, so you’re going to tell them how, and then I’ll erase the records of you taking the files from the system.”

Ashley looks around at your group, shaking her head. “No.”

“Sorry, Mate. We ain’t really asking.” Butcher leans across A-Train, shoving the thumb drive closer to Ashley. “Do us this solid, and A-Train won’t go right up to Homelander and tell him about how he saw you also cuddly and tight with me, Soldier Boy, and his favorite missing person.”

Your heart jumps right into your throat. City lights. Music.

Suddenly, Ben’s elbow is planted against yours, and you’re pulled back down to earth just in time to hear Ashley yell, “This is fucking blackmail! I’ll fucking sue!”

“You cannot sue government officials, madame.” Frenchie says smugly, and Hughie shakes his head.

“That’s- Frenchie, that’s not even kind of true.”

“You’re also not a government official.” Annie adds.

Frenchie looks genuinely perplexed at this and gives Kimiko a confused frown, receiving a shrug in return.

“But,” you pipe up, your voice somehow bored and casual. “I’m legally dead. He’s-“ You jab Ben in the chest, and Ashley’s eyes widen. “Legally dead and an enemy of the state. You can’t sue either of us, not without admitting some Vought secrets that will be very bad PR.” You give her a twisted smile, leering across the table. “Help us, or, even if Homelander believes you, which we both know he won’t, you’ll get fired. And I’m sure they’ll be very understanding and normal about how they do it.”

You feel a flash of weird pride and realize you can see Ben fighting a smile in your periphery.

Ashley has a fearful expression, looking at where your elbow is still connected with Ben’s. “What- what's even on it?”

“Becca Butcher files.” You say, not taking your gaze from her, but you didn’t need to look around to see the sudden, rigidness with which everyone sat. You even felt Ben’s own shock run through you.

You’d be lying if you said hiding the exact contents of the file hadn’t been a very purposeful choice that you and Butcher had made. He’d cornered you, demanding to know what you planned on doing should Soldier Boy go after Ryan, and you’d told him that it wouldn’t be an issue. Ryan looked up to Homelander, that was why he stayed. He’d lost his mother, he didn’t trust Butcher, all the poor kid had was his insane, sociopathic father. Some part of you—small and sad and tired, still sitting on a staircase in Boston—understood that. But with Becca gone, gone forever, Ryan didn’t have a place to run like you’d had. Homelander was the default, and just kind enough to his son that Ryan could force himself to forgive Homelander again and again. Homelander was safe for Ryan.

You were going to make sure Ryan never saw Homelander as safe again. And that started with Becca Butcher and would end with you. So you and Butcher had agreed with a tight handshaked that he'd ripped his hand from right after, everyone was only going to know what they needed to. That was the only way it would work.

“Becca Butcher files?” MM repeats in a slow, incredulous tone. “You,” he turns with a look of shock to Butcher. “You knew about this? You’re fuckin okay with this?”

“I’m doing what has to be done, Mate.” Butcher answers flatly, then says your name. “Tell ‘em the plan, Love.”

“We need to get Ryan away from Homelander. Ryan needs to know about his mother.”

“No,” Ashley was emerging from the shock to try and stand from the table, but A-Train’s arm shot out, pulling her back down once more. “No,” she says again, looking around desperately. “Ryan, Ryan is all he has. All he cares about. You take Ryan he’ll lose his mind-“

“He’s already lost his mind.” Something snaps in your chest—a cruel feeling waking up as you watch Ashley fret about Homelander. “And I couldn’t give less fucks about what he cares about.” The feeling is crawling across your skin. “If this hurts him, good. It could never hurt him enough to make it right.” You hear drums and still can’t place where they’re coming from. “Now listen to the last fucking strand of your morality on your scalp and fucking help us.”

Ashley shakes her head again, this time with less certainty. “It’s- no- He-“ she pulls in a deep, unsteady breath. “He won’t stop until he gets Ryan back. He already is going insane about you and him and how he needs to get you back safe and put him back down, and if Ryan goes to then nothing will stop him-“

The drums are loud now, and something that’s usually there on Ben’s face is missing. Your own body doesn’t feel entirely normal anymore, but it’s not paralyzed or running. You can feel something in Ben caving, falling inward in a growing rhythm, moving in time as something in you grows. It's not in you now, it’s across you, coating your skin and singing with glee.

“Ashley,” the sound of your voice is a little far away, but you can hear it echo through you. It’s wired, hot, a warning.

“I- I can’t.”

“Yes, you fucking can.” You sneer. “You’re just too much of a pussy to do it.” Ben coughs in the way that you know means he wants to laugh, just as the drums stutter and move farther away.

“Please, I don’t-“

“Do not make me stab you.”

Ashley falters, looking you up and down. “You won’t.”

“Trust me, she will.” Ben smirks, giving you a nudge. “She’s surprisingly violent.”

“I, I won’t. I can’t. He’ll kill me-“

“You think we won’t?” Ben growls, any amusement in him gone as you feel something unbreakable and resolved through your body.

Ashley tries to run again, this time actually managing to get up from the table, but is knocked flat on her ass by A-Train before she can take two steps. You stand and give the itch, now under your tongue and your nails, a small scratch.

“Oh, fuck no.” You hear scrambling as you walk around the table and stop, staring down at Ashley.

She’s crawling back from you, back from the fire curling from your whole body, and disgust curls in your gut. For the first time you feel anger—insatiable and gory anger—all of your own. No city lights flash around you, no hollow music dances around your head. You don’t fear Ashley. She’s weak and spineless. She’s willing to cover her hands in Ryan’s blood, in your blood, to keep herself safe from Homelander. She’s staring at you, terrified, and you don’t need to touch her to know it isn’t even a fraction of all the fear you felt in that white room. That white room she knows about, may have seen, and is still trying to keep Homelander happy.

You bend down, letting all your hatred for Vought, for her, cover your features. When you speak, your words are clear and low.

“You are going to tell Butcher how to access the thumbdrive. A-Train and you are going to take some food with you, and walk back to the tower. You aren’t going to tell Homelander about this, and if he asks, offer him some leftovers. A-Train will erase your activity from the files, and you’re going to pretend the whole night never happened. If you tell Homelander about either me or Be-“ You correct yourself smoothly. “Soldier Boy, the last thing I will do before he locks me away again is kill you. Do I make myself clear?”

Ashley nods frantically, flinching when you raise your hand.

“Say it. Say that I made myself clear.”

“You-“ Ashley stutters, hiccuping. “You made yourself clear.”

You draw yourself back up. “Good. Butcher, I’m leaving. You can drive me and come back, or Ben can steal your car, but I’m leaving.”

When you turn, when you see the looks on your team’s face, all the anger is gone, and suddenly there is a crushing, painful weight of shame on your chest. They’re looking at you like Ashley had been, like you’re no better than Homelander. Like maybe you should go back in the room, it would be safer for them, it would be safer for everyone if you were far, far away-

“You heard the lady.” Ben is standing, walking around to your side. “It’s late. We’re leaving. Sunshine?” He offers you his arm, and you stare between it and your own, still covered in flame. Looking up, his face looks bored, as if this is just another Tuesday, and he offers his arm to women who are actively ablaze on a regular basis.

Your face feels slack, and all you can manage is to blink at him. I’ll burn you, Pretty Boy. It’ll hurt.

His brows subtly knit, and he doesn’t move. I’ll live, Sunshine. Don’t let them see you break. We’re going home.

You look back at your team, a wide circle of berth having formed around you and Ben. Butcher is looking between the two of you, and you recognize that glint in his eyes. You’d seen it before, but it’s only been really, truly directed at you once. In a graveyard in Boston, gravestones and bushes around you burning in the dead of winter, holding a bucket of ice that steamed off your skin. Under it, fear begins to creep back into you, exhaustion pushing it forward. Butcher reaches behind him, and your knees feel weak.

But you don’t fall. Zealous anger, strong and raw, spreads through you and Butcher’s movements still. You look down and find Ben’s arm unflinchingly looped through yours, his body at its full height as his eyes rake coldly over Butcher.

The silence hangs in the air, cut through only by Ashley’s quick, sobbed breaths. For a second you think the smoke seeping from you will overtake the room before anyone moves, but Butcher slowly reaches into his pockets, eyes not leaving Ben’s, and throws the keys at Hughie.

“Drop them off, Mate, then come right back. No bloody detours.”

Hughie stares at the keys, looking like he’s going to protest, but Kimiko grabs them before he can.

She turns to you, completely composed, no fear wavering as she locks your eyes with hers. I’ll take you.

Before you can thank her, Frenchie steps forward, signing as he speaks. “Mon Coeur, you cannot drive.”

She frowns. Yes I can.

“No, Mon Coeur, not legally.” Frenchie says, exasperated, and you have a feeling this is not first time they've had this debate.

Kimiko rolls her eyes at you. Fine. She signs back at Frenchie, throwing the keys at him. You’ll do it.

Frenchie stumbles as he catches them, giving Kimiko a shocked look, which she pretends not to see as she walks to the door, signing at you as she passes.

Let’s go before Butcher’s brain starts working.

A small smile threatens your face, and you move, tugging Ben’s arm only once before he falls into pace with you, Frenchie scrambling behind you both.

The car ride back feels longer. The moment you’d stepped out of the diner, your body had extinguished, and you had a worrying sense that the only thing keeping you from collapsing on the sidewalk was Ben’s arm firm through yours. No words were said for the entirety of the drive, you and Ben in the backseat as Frenchie drove and Kimiko lounged in shotgun, and your brain raced. Ben hadn’t let go, and the drums were fading in and out of your chest as he stared ahead into the night.

You arrived at the safe house, only a street lamp casting a dull glow across the street. The chill of the wind cutting against you as Kimiko walked you to the door, Frenchie mumbling something about keeping the car safe from Hooligans. Ben made to step inside, but halted, still not releasing your arm, as you stayed at the doorstep.

At his questioning glare, you tried to wiggle his arm from yours. “Go inside, Ben. I’ll be right there.”

He looked down at where he was still connected with you, and you felt reluctance in time with the drums, but he let go with a scowl. “Be fast,” he grunted, and stomped into the house.

You watched until he’d disappeared fully down the hall, turning to Kimiko only once his back was shrouded in the darkness of the house.

“Thank you,” you give her a soft smile, signing as you speak. “I- I don’t know what happened, I just-“

She shakes her head, and you trail off. I understand. I get angry too. She pauses, hands hovering for only a second. We are not like them. She points down the street, in the direction of the tower, and then past you, into the house. We get to be angry.

“I don’t want to be angry.” You say softly. “He wins when I get angry.”

Kimiko gives you a sad look, placing a hand on your arm. Her own frustration, her fear of Homelander, all the anger at the world, sinks into you. She holds your gaze for a second before drawing back to sign once more. He doesn’t win when you’re angry. He wins when you’re scared. You’re not Soldier Boy. Your anger is good.

You glance back into the house. “I think he- Ben- Soldier Boy- is scared. Or something. His emotions are really fucking confusing.”

You let him touch you. She signs. Does he know?

“He said he didn’t care, because he’s, and I quote, ‘not a pussy with something to hide’.”

But he’s scared? She gives you a questioning frown. Do you think it’s because of Russia? Could you fix it, like you offered for me?

“I’m not sure, but-“ you’re cut off as Frenchie honks the horn, leaning out the window.

“Mon Coeur!” His odd position makes his signing almost unintelligible, which he seems to realize, and raises his voice. “Monsieur Butcher says to get back ‘like a hare with a bomb up it’s arse'.”

Kimiko rolls her eyes at you, but signs a goodbye, giving your hand a small squeeze before returning to the car. As the engine rumbles, Frenchie pulling out the driveway, Kimiko’s calm faith lingers in you, and you walk back into the house, shutting the door behind you.

Almost all the lamps and ceiling lights of the house are off, the TV glowing from where you had abandoned it several hours ago. From the bottom of the stairs, you can see the upstairs hall is washed in a soft yellow, and when you reach the top Ben’s door is open, the light from within filling the hall. You stop at the entrance to his room, his back to you as he pulls a cotton shirt over his head.

You let out a small cough in a weak attempt to alert him to your presence.

“You’re allowed to just come in, Sunshine.” He grunts, still facing away. “I’m not a shy little virgin you need to pussyfoot around.”

You let out a small hum, walking over the threshold and stopping a few feet behind him. “Thank you.” You say softly, and he turns around to look at you.

His eyes are tired. Pained. Something looks like it’s pulling at him and it scares you. You’ve seen that expression before, when you’d woken him up that first day, at the Neuman mission, when you pulled him from nightmares with sharp hits, but never just there. It was always with something. This was like an island, just him and you, nothing pulling it out of him.

“Don’t thank me.” He says gruffly. Even his voice is drained. “You mostly held your own.”

“But-“

“And stop feeling bad about that Ashley bitch. She fucking deserved it.”

You stare at him. “You really believe that?”

He lets out a hollow laugh. “She was fucking pathetic. A fucking pussy. Fucking eating out Homelander’s fucking hand, brown-nosing him until he fucking cums and pays her, letting him take you-“ His jaw clenches. “I fucking meant it when I said we’re not going back Sunshine. I’m not a goddamn pussy liar.”

“I didn’t think you were. But, you…” Your voice fades as you try to find the words. “I could feel you. At the diner.”

“I fucking know, that was the goddamn point. I wasn’t going to let you start crying in front of those self-righteous pussies.”

“No, Ben.” You shake your head. “I could feel you. I could feel it.” You place a hand over your chest. “It was building. There was something beating against you, inside you. And you looked…” You watch him carefully. “Scared.”

“Fucking watch it.” He growls. “I don’t get fucking scared. I’m not-“

“A fucking pussy. I know.” You sigh. “I don’t want to, I can’t, fight right now. I’m so fucking tired. You can scream at me in the morning, but not right now, please.”

He stares at you, and just when you think he’s going to start yelling, he nods. “You’re…” He sounds strange. “You’re ok.”

Just like the last time he said it, the words aren’t phrased like a question. They don’t feel like a question. It feels like he’s just telling you again. But there’s something under it this time, something that makes his words almost unsure. Something that makes up your mind faster than you thought you would.

“Are you?” You ask quietly.

“Of course I fucking am.”

“Ben.” You tilt your head at him. “I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want you to respond now.”

“You’re being fucking weird, Sunshine.”

“Please.”

He relents with a grunt. “Fucking fine. What.”

“I can fix it.” It’s so hard to keep his gaze as you speak. “It will take time, but I can fix it.”

“Fix what.” He scowls. “There’s nothing to fucking fix.”

“Your PTSD.”

“I don’t fucking have-“

“Ben, I could feel it. It’s dangerous. I could fix it.” You take a deep breath. “I can fix internal injuries as well. I offered to fix Kimiko’s muteness, but she didn’t want me to do it.”

“Then what fucking makes you think-“

“Muteness isn’t dangerous. And it would’ve been harder for me, I might have ended up mute myself. You’re dangerous like this. You can’t fucking control it, and don’t try and lie and say it’s under control. Ashley mentioned putting you back under, and you looked like someone was drowning you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sunshine.” He leers at you. “You don’t fucking know me, know what it was like-“

“I do. You know I do.” You whisper, and the anger on his face breaks. “More than anyone else, I know. I can fix it, but you’ll have to let me. Just-“ You search his eyes, not sure what you’re looking for. “Just think about it. I won’t mention it again, I won’t even touch you, but my offer will stay on the table. Please, just think about it.”

Before you can leave, he grabs your hand. A rush of painful exhaustion runs through you, and there’s anger, but it’s not full of the fervor you’ve come to expect from him. It’s not even at you. It’s wide and almost consuming, leaving room for only a small kernel of something fragile and warm.

“I don’t care if you keep touching me, Sunshine. I've go nothing to hide from you, and that’s not going to change. But there’s nothing in me you need to fucking fix, so don’t fucking bother.”

“I’m not trying to fix you, Ben,” You murmur. "But remember, you burn, I burn. Please don't burn." Your last words are soft, and the kernel pulses.

“Good,” he grunts, releasing your arm. A small smirk crawls onto his face. “Now I don’t care if it’s here or in your room, Sunshine, but you need to go the fuck to bed. You look like shit.”

Just as he says it, the full weight of your fatigue hits you. You give a mumbled acknowledgement of his words, and try to leave the room, but all the adrenaline is gone from your system and nothing is left to stop the failure of your legs or droop of your eyes. The last thing you feel is something pulling you up before your knees hit the carpet, the last thing you see is green eyes on your own, and you hear an amused snort from above you.

“Goodnight, Sunshine. Try not to dream about me.”

You try to object, but sleep pulls you under before you can even remember why you need to.

[yuzudonut]

ouuu some more stuff for my nyon port town au... people outside of nyon

my rambling below the line

prowl is more based on his g1 incarnation and that one abridged dub I saw where he was very soft-spoken and walked all over. idk about you guys but some hospitals I see have security at the front and this is basically what prowl does, checking people go in and out.

i have nothing special for ironhide i just think he makes a really good Old Guy Coworker who annoys you at worst and endears you at best, hes still working in security god knows why and has a beautiful wife working as a tankermen at Iacon's ports

red alert heads the security firm that Iacon's hospitals hire out of, not for very long though i imagine he ends up out of the job like 6 months in bcs of the stressful workload getting to him and gets whisked off to work as like, in search & rescue w/ inferno

also this really is a case of everyone kinda vaguely knows everyone if you reach hard enough you could add how ironhide and chromia know elita, op and kup and that gets the rest of the nyon citizens connected to everyone else in someway shape or form

characters who arent drawn but I've also been thinking abt:

jazz and blaster are both radio hosts and in the entertainment industry. blasters cassettes work in diff parts of it, rewind idrk yet, eject and ramhorn commentators for cube, rossana and steeljaw are in music

all ik fr rewind is itd be cute for him to work w/ the reflector trio

soundwave and his cassettes stream gladiator battles, frenzy and rumble are ofc the commentators while soundwave works more like a producer and the others go between working cameras/mic/directing

IVE BEEN STRUGGLING W WINDBLADE AND STARSCREAM TBHHH, starscream polisci space engineering double major nightmare working w/ xenobiologist jetfire in tandem... but also smt funny abt making him part of a circus w/ windblade, bumblebee, cliffjumper and skywarp

[billsbabydoll]

“𝒸𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒾𝓃 ℴ𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝒿 𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓈.”

contains:SMUT<3

summary:while on my walk home, a very familiar cadillac pulls up beside me.rolling down the window calling out for me, my ex-boyfriend convinces me into his car for a quick “chat”.

WARNINGS:softdom!tom, sub!reader, light nipple play, pet-names, praising, blowjob, throat-fucking, make-out session, cat-calling, quickie, dry-humping, ex-sex.

notes:guys please excuse my last post im ovulating and i got horny in the middle of the night :3.

ugh today has been such a long and stressful day at work, finally im making my way back home, with music blasting in my ipod head-phones as i take in my surroundings, the orange sky and the sound of the city.

i was about 5-ish blocks away from my apartment before i randomly get the feeling of someone watching me and i was correct, i slowly turn my head over to the side of the road, taking a head-phone out of my ear and of course i see that stupid, ugly, pathetic cadillac i knew so annoyingly well and i instantly knew very well who eyes were watching me inside.

to no surprise he rolls the window down and stops the car, our eyes meet for the first time in 4 months.

“hii gorgeous, what are you doing baby?”he chuckles with that smug smile that i once absolutely adored, now only brutally hated.

i scoffed disgusted at his flirting, i decided to continue walking, putting my head-phone back in my ear.over my loud music i still managed hear his car driving slowly beside me and his long string of cat-calls.

“cmon doll, i’ll give you a ride!”

“schatzi (sweetheart), i know you hear me!”

“cmere, baby!”

“whats a pretty girl like you doing walking alone, it’s getting dark out y’know!”

i mean it was pushing 6:30 and the sun was already beginning to set, and i most definitely didnt wanna walk the rest of 5 blocks i had left on top of the 10 i already had walked.i sighed stopping right in my tracks taking my head-phones out of my ears and placing them in my tote-bag along with my ipod, before turning fully to the vehicle, signaling for him to unlock the door.

he smirked ignorantly, the door quickly unlocking with a switch of a button allowing me inside.i settle in the passenger’s seat, refusing to make eye-contact with him.

“how you been, i haven’t seen you since-well you know..”he questioned trying to make conversation as he began to drive again, his tone now more serious and gentle, taking note of my annoyed face and my refusal to meet his eyes.

“ive been okay just been busy with work, and you tom?” i replied obviously not interested in making small talk, especially with someone who dumped me.

“thats good, uh ive just been busy too with touring and promoting the new album, been thinkin’ about you a lot lately though schatz (sweetheart).”

“oh yeahh righttt.”i chuckle sarcastically, i know he had hundreds of girls throwing themselves at him everyday and night, heck they were even while we were together, there was absolutely no way he being honest.

“im serious, sometimes i ask myself why i let you go and, i mean really who would forget such a pretty girl like you hm?”he teased looking over to me, placing a hand on my thigh before looking back to the road ahead.

my heart begins to pump and race at the sudden contact of his large hand rubbing and softly gripping on my flesh, i could almost hear my heartbeat ringing in my ears.

i know i know what your thinking, and i was really struggling trying to maintain some sort of strength, i mean the guy dumped me!i also know hes just sweet-talking me like he always did but with someone so charming and handsome as THE tom kaulitz, it was like handing a child a huge lollipop and asking them not to eat it, absolutely impossible.

we sit in silence for another few minutes, still he continues to caress my thigh before he looks over to me again searching in my face for any sign of uncertainty or discomfort , to which he only finds willingness and desire.he nods, then proceeds to pull into an empty, quiet, hidden alleyway, parking the car before shutting off the ignition.

i waste no second more to quickly climb over to tom, straddling his lap my thighs resting on the sides of his own, capturing his lips into a hot kiss.he kisses back immediately toms hands finding their way effortlessly to my hips, helping me grind my clothed cunt against his urging length, creating a delicious friction.

we continue passionately making-out, our tongues swirling and intertwining perfectly into one-another.

as hes savoring the sweet taste of my lips, he removes his hands away from hips now using his left hand to lift up my skirt squeezing and slapping my delicate skin, his right hand finding its way inside my shirt, the tips of his fingers now rubbing fast circles on the buds of my tender breasts.

i moan lightly into his mouth, my eyes shutting as i take in the amazing sensation, my teeth biting down softly on his wet lips, my hips rocking recklessly against his seeking any further friction.

he pulls away from the kiss moaning and groaning with me, his cock begging to be released right at that instant.

“steig hinten ein, engel (get in the back, angel).”

i immediately comply, hopping off of his lap and climbing into the back seat, he follows shortly behind sitting down before going back to meeting his lips with mine.

he takes my hand in his and places it upon his groin, helping me begin to palm him through his baggy jeans, he groans into my mouth, his eye-brows furrowing together.

i take the lead now and pull away from his lips, looking into his eyes then looking down to his lap, i then lean over and quickly unbuckle his belt pulling his jeans down enough for his hardened length to be visible in his blue checkered boxers, begging to be pleased.i slip my hand in his underwear and pull his cock out, it swings out hitting his stomach before bouncing back up.

“your killing me here, c-cmon baby..”he whines impatiently.

i softly chuckle before i lowered my head down, my lips now not even an inch away from his leaky tip.i teasingly lick a few rings around his tip and lick up and down the sides of his shaft before i slowly take his length into my mouth.

he scoots up and relaxes his legs as he makes a make-shift pony tail out of my loose hair.i then begin to glide up and and down his cock, his tip once in a while kissing the back of throat.

“ohh f-fuckk keep sucking it that mmh-prinzessin (princess).”he praises, his head tilting backwards and hitting the headrest of the seat, his grip on hair becoming tighter.

i keep up a steady, quick, consistent pace throughout, using my left hand to stroke the extra inches i couldnt fit inside my mouth, i moan as i suck him off, sending high vibrations straight through his cock.

hes a complete groaning and whining mess, gripping my hair with one hand gripping the seat with the other.

“look ughh-into my eyes..”

“g-god i missed your fucking lips on my mmh-dick so much, doll.”

my watery eyes quickly looked up into his maintaining long eye-contact before looking back down.

he bucks his hips into my mouth seeking further relief, his orgasm coming in any moment now, his mouth hangs open mumbling desperate swears from his lips.he then grabs the sides of face with both of his hands and starts harshly fucking his cock into my throat.

i whimper as his tip rapidly stabs into the back of throat, my hands squeezing the leather of the seats, my eyes now crying from the brutality.

“f-fuck fuck im gonna cum!”

he announced before taking his length quickly out of my mouth and placing it on my blood-like-red lips.he pumps his length urgently, squeezing his eyes shut and with a primal grunt busts a fat load on my lips, covering my lips with his cum like lipgloss.

i lick the salty white substance from my lips, looking deeply into his eyes as i swallow, before an idea suddenly pops into my head-

“wanna finish this at my place, babe?”

“fuck yeah.”

THE END

[charmedreincarnation]

Hey, guys! I've been receiving a ton of messages in response to my last post. It's reminding me of how I first discovered shifting. I feel like doing a little story time since Ive just passed the three-year mark of my discovery, and I've been reminiscing with friends about it.

I remember being in a very dark place when I stumbled upon shifting. I was depressed, and very suicidal. Yet, there was this unshakeable optimism inside me that I was meant for an extraordinary life. Despite my mental state, I had a lot of knowledge of subliminals and the law of attraction (-_-). These gave me hope, but they weren't enough tbh. I didn't want to attract my dream life through practicing gratitude or becoming a magnet for my desires or whatever. Nor did I want to have to listen to subliminals for years on end to achieve my goals. My list of desires was so long, and I needed everything to change that going step by step and waiting years for each one to manifest just wasn't feasible.

But I refused to give up. One day, after a particularly hard day of being sad per usual, I searched on Quora for something like "fastest most powerful subliminals on YouTube ever" (Y’all 😭😭). Among the recommended sub creators, I found a video called "Desired Life: Reality Shifting". The description promised everything I had ever wanted: waking up with all your desires fulfilled permanently in short. It piqued my curiosity so much. Could I really just wake up with my dream life, family, house, wealth, all based on my scripts and imagination?

Growing up, I was a heavy maladaptive daydreamer. From ages 10-17, I created alternate lives in my head, telling myself I would go there someday. I was always doing SATs (State Akin to Sleep), and I think that's what kept me from ending it all. I was constantly in the wish fulfilled state, even though I didn't know what that was at the time.

Back to my story, I went into the comments of that video and came across a guy who claimed that after a week of using this subliminal, he woke up with a new life as a multi-millionaire living in his dream penthouse. I messaged him, and he gave me his Instagram which showcased his luxurious life. He had what seemed like a perfect relationship, he was very attractive, had so many cars, and travelled 24/7 while having a six figures amount of followers. He was living proof that this wasn't just scripting. Also the law of attraction community is known for their mad expensive coaching.. like hundreds of dollars per hour for questions and he was answering it all for free something I didn’t see the law of attraction community. And I talked to him for hours! He never got mad, he had proof, and he was kind, proof and the behavior of someone who really had mastered the art of life.

After our conversation, I spent the next couple of months doing research. I found numerous stories about glitches in the matrix, accidental shifting, people entering parallel realities, and eventually, shifting communities on platforms like Amino and Reddit. It was stuff I already believed in and did in my imagination; I just didn’t know there was a term for it.

Then I got reminded of a memory that I had seriously repressed bc it was so fucking weird. When I was 6 and my brother was 3, we were absolutely obsessed with dodo birds. One day, we were outside playing, and on god time seemed to stop. Out of nowhere, a dodo bird appeared. I know you’re probably like “maya be so fr rn you were a kid” but no, This wasn't just our young imaginations running wild - there was a bird that was huge, dinosaur-like, exactly how dodos are described in books and pictures we had.

Then things got weirder. Suddenly it started raining eggs. Big, large eggs everywhere it was so gross and my brother and I were a mess. We were young, sure, but not stupid. We knew this wasn't normal. My brother and I rushed inside to tell our dad. When I managed to drag him outside, he was furious, accusing me of throwing eggs everywhere. To this day, he tells the story of the time I "trashed the backyard with eggs." And every time, I'm like, "Dad, where would I get that many eggs?" We didn’t have eggs but so he assumed I stole them and we went inside for hours and it was magically cleaned. So he also tells the story of how responsible I am and how I took accountability for my actions even as a child. I didn’t clean that shit bro and I tell him that too and he just laughs it makes me so mad.

My brother, who knows I'm into reality shifting (though he doesn’t really believe in it), can't explain that day either. He often shrugs it off as a "glitch in the matrix," which honestly, well no duh it is a shift dummie. He does believe in manifesting but only bc he has seen me use it and he experiences the good things I manifest as well. They’re the same thing anyways but that isn’t the point

The reason I'm bringing up this bizarre childhood memory is because during my months of research into shifting, I found countless stories of accidental shifts, people entering the void, entering parallel universes, time glitches, examples of the Mandela effect first hand, glitches in the matrix and etc. It was like uncovering a myriad of experiences that confirmed what I already believed: we can change and choose our reality. I just didn’t know the phenomena had a name. Obviously in the future I came across other things like the law of assumption, the void state, etc etc but this was where it started.

I wish I had saved all those fascinating stories, posts, and blogs. I might go back and compile everything I found because they were so real and enlightening. It will probably take forever tho if I do choose to do that, but I think it's worth sharing.

In the meantime, check out this accounts of accidental shifts that my friend shared with me this account https://instagram.com/tessicavision?igshid=OGQ5ZDc2ODk2ZA== based off the Glitch in the Matrix subreddit which is also a goldmine of people experiencing similar phenomena. It helped me make sense of my own experiences and might do the same for you.

I don’t want this to be too long and I already got to the point I think! but regardless stay curious and realize you’re really not that special. I mean ofc you are, i mean this is not some tumblr thing teens girls discovered or created and isn’t even limited to “spiritually/manifesting inclined people” I think at the beginning of my journey people talking about accidental shifts and such, inspired me more than purposeful success stories because they really have no reason to lie and they were looking for answers just like I was.

[monster-energies]

my harry potter masterlist

i will put a key here to indicate what kind of fanfic you’ll be reading please read my warnings before you read my fics:

🌻 - fluff

🌼 - gen/general 🥀 - angst 🌷 - smut

ℹ - implied

✩｡:*•.─────  ❁ ❁  ─────.•*:｡✩

severus snape x reader oneshots

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🌻1. please be mine - ao3 | tumblr ( published: 14.09.2021 )

🌻2. hold onto that feeling - ao3 | tumblr ( published 15.09.2021 )*

🌻3. love me, if thats what you wanna do - ao3 | tumblr ( published 20.09.2021 )

🌻🥀4. dawn is a feeling - ao3 | tumblr ( published 27.09.2021 )*

🌻🥀5. whatever a moon has always meant, and whatever a sun will always sing is you - ao3 | tumblr ( published 16.11.2021 )

🌻6. anything but ordinary - ao3 | tumblr ( published 30.11.2021 )

🌻7. blue skies are on the horizon for you - ao3 | tumblr ( published 06.12.2021 )

🌻8. be my birthday date if you may - ao3 | tumblr ( published 31.12.2021 )

🌻🥀9. a land of infinite wonders, a billion lightyears from here now - ao3 | tumblr ( published 09.01.2022 )

🌻10. if you want blood, you got it - ao3 | tumblr ( published 22.01.2022 )

🌻🥀🌷11. you’ll have me sooner than you know it - ao3 | tumblr ( published 10.02.2022 )

🌷12. this is the face of someone who loves you - ao3 | tumblr ( published 05.04.2022 )

🥀🌻 13. i’ve got to get better, and maybe we’ll work it out - ao3 | tumblr ( published 03.07.2022 )

🥀🌻 🌼 14. you don’t have to be sorry for doing it on your own - ao3 | tumblr ( published 31.08.2022 )

🌻15. always a woman - ao3 | tumblr ( published 9.03.2023 )

*note: oneshots 2 and 4 used to be apart of a series formerly called muggle misadventures but this has now been discontinued and are both standalone oneshots

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other

this section is for miscellaneous fanfics i have published, the character and fandom will be stated when necessary

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🌻🌼1. lionel shabandar/reader - you, me and these neon lights - ao3 | tumblr ( published 08.11.2021 )

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WRITING EVENTS

this section here is for all the of the writing events i have participated in.

snapetober 2021

this is my participation in @sxvxrxssnape​‘s snapetober month 2021. for the whole of october, i wrote a oneshot every day for a month with a list of prompts. if you are searching for my snapetober book on ao3, it is under the title severus’ tale.

✩｡:*•.─────  ❁ ❁  ─────.•*:｡✩

severus’ tale - ao3 ( published 01.10.2021 )

STATUS: COMPLETE

overall word count:  101,853

🌻🌼 prompt 1: autumn - title: fridays will always be better than sundays | tumblr ( published 01.10.2021 ) 

🌻🥀 prompt 2: “you have to let go” - title: letters ive written, never meaning to send. because i love you | tumblr ( published 02.10.2021 )

🌻 prompt 3: pumpkin carving - title: floral and fading | tumblr ( published 03.10.2021 )

🥀 prompt 4: regret - title: don’t you feel small | tumblr ( published 04.10.2021 )

🌻 prompt 5: apple orchard - title: love at first feel | tumblr ( published 05.10.2021 )

🌻🥀 prompt 6: hostage/trapped  - title: you almost made it through the fall | tumblr ( published 06.10.2021 )

🌻 ( ℹ 🌷+ 🥀 ) prompt 7: potions  - title: hands all over | tumblr ( published 07.10.2021 )

🌻🥀 prompt 8: emptiness - title: do you know what i’m seeing ? | tumblr ( published 08.10.2021 )

🌻🥀 prompt 9: old books - title: when you’re without love | tumblr ( published 09.10.2021 )

🌻 prompt 10: misunderstandings - title: time alone with you | tumblr ( published 10.10.2021 )

🌻 prompt 11: old friends - title: childhood’s end | tumblr ( published 11.10.2021 )

🌻🥀 prompt 12: alone - title: you deserve this | tumblr ( published 12.10.2021 )

🌻 ( ℹ + 🥀 ) prompt 13: spell casting - title: the spelling rules | tumblr ( published 13.10.2021 )

🌻🥀 prompt 14: cursed - title: she said you were a hero, you played the part | tumblr ( published: 14.10.2021 )

🌻prompt 15: ghosts - title: an ode to my family | tumblr ( published: 15.10.2021 )

🌻 ( ℹ + 🥀) prompt 16: “i’ve got you” - title: the things we do for love | tumblr  ( published: 16.10.2021 )

🌻prompt 17: witching hour - title: strange phenomena | tumblr ( published 17.10.2021 )

🥀prompt 18: (no) mercy - title: i’ve never been so torn up in all of my life, i should have seen this coming | tumblr  ( published 18.10.2021 )

🌻🥀prompt 19: headstone - title: all my daughters | tumblr ( published 19.10.2021 )

🥀prompt 20: night terrors - title: broken pieces shine | tumblr ( published 20.10.2021 )

🌻 ( ℹ +🥀 ) prompt 21: contemplation - title: i can hear this beat, it fills my head up and gets louder and louder | tumblr ( published 21.10.2021 )

🌻 ( ℹ +🌷 ) prompt 22: touch starved - title: i really should be holding you, loving you | tumblr ( published 22.10.2021 )

🌻prompt 23: vampire/bats - title: can we fly, can we fly away | tumblr ( published 23.10.2021 )

🥀prompt 24: fears - title: welcome to the panic room, where all your darkest fears are gonna come for you | tumblr ( published 24.10.2021 )

🌻prompt 25: rainy evening - title: its our time now if you want it to be | tumblr ( published 25.10.2021 )

🌻prompt 26: “don’t leave me” - title: would you really rush out for me now ? | tumblr ( published 26.10.2021 )

🌻prompt 27: unfinished business - title: you are love | tumblr ( published 27.10.2021 )

🌻prompt 28: flashback - title: it’s all coming back to me now | tumblr ( published 28.10.2021 )

🌻🌼prompt 29: costume - title: where did the party go | tumblr ( published 29.10.2021 )

🥀prompt 30: “how could you do this?” - title: you’re the only thing that’s keeping me alive | tumblr ( published 30.10.2021 )

🌻prompt 31: halloween party - title: we are the kids from yesterday | tumblr ( published 31.10.2021 )

[colachampagnedad]

job market looking tough rn...the amount of layoffs ive been seeing is insane...how tf are people in 6+ month searches id lowkey die

[atsoine]

im 19 now, which is crazy, so this is me word vomiting my thoughts because its really hard for me to believe i made it this far and im really proud of myself.

in january of 2024, my mom fled our home state of ohio and moved us down to texas. i was forced to drop out of highschool at age 17, only 6 months away from graduating. i had to cut off all of my friends, all of my support system, and go "off grid" as she put it. i wasnt allowed to leave the house without explicit instruction, but that wasnt really new to me.

in february, the cops found us and took my little brother out of my mom's custody. she was in a custody battle for him, and moving out of state violated the court orders. so it was just me, and i wasnt being forced to hide anymore since our location was known. so i got a job.

in april of 2024, i ran away. nearly exactly 1 month before my 18th birthday. i had nowhere to go, it was a panic decision, and i did something that could have gone very wrong but thankfully didnt. i hid in an empty housing plot over a hill, literally on the water, and once it got dark and i was sure the cops had given up searching for the night, i walked 3 hours to my coworker's house. no phone, no plan, just hoped the address i had seen once was accurate and that id be able to find it.

i found his house, and he let me stay with him until my 18th birthday, when i was legally an adult and could move into a homeless shelter. i turned 18 in his house, quietly and with no fanfare, staring at the clock and waiting for the fear of being found to lift off my shoulders. 2 days later, i moved into a homeless shelter.

i spent the next few months in the shelter, bargaining with my mom to get some of my belongings back, and working full time in fast food making $9.25 an hour to try and keep myself alive. i qualified for food stamps, but they got shut off and i couldnt figure out how to turn them back on. i qualified for reduced housing, but i still couldnt afford the rent and utilities in the area. i got lucky though. the coworker id stayed with while waiting to turn 18, who is now one of my best friends, offered to have me move in with him when my time at the shelter ran out.

i spent 6 months living with him, cutting off my mom in september. ive been no contact with her ever since. i job hopped a bit, nearly starved a few times, and lived on a cot in the corner of a room already occupied by someone else. i was struggling constantly- with money, with my mental health, with the complete unknown that was my future. but i was alive, and i was away from my mom, so i considered it a net positive and pushed forward, trying not to kill myself or get jumped in the street.

then, this past february, i got more in touch with my aunt. id never really known her, my mom banned her from my life when i was little, and we didnt reconnect until 2024 over facebook. we started talking, and i started venting about my living situation and my financials and how scary it was. and... she offered to let me move in with her. in michigan, in a nice clean house, in a safe area, where minimum wage was nearly 5 dollars higher than what i made. so i took her up on the offer, and she paid for my flight.

now, ive started to settle into life with my aunt. my emotions have been all over the place, as i try to unlearn trauma responses and figure out who i wanna be and what i wanna do. for the first time in my life, not only am i free, but im safe. i dont go hungry, i dont go cold, and im always gonna have a safe place to stay as long as my aunt is alive. it was strange at first, and still is, that i can simply exist and follow my passions with no risk of the rug being pulled from under me, no risk of ending up homeless again or hurt if i dont keep constant vigilance. its calm, its peaceful. its so fucking weird.

and now here i am, typing this, as i turn 19 in a comfortable bedroom that i have to myself, having just eaten food i know will never be scarce, and i dont feel afraid anymore. for the first time in my life, theres no crushing weight on my shoulders of needing to survive. theres no walking on eggshells to avoid my mom's temperment. im safe, and its starting to sink in.

i never thought i would make it this far. i didnt expect to turn 18 at all, especially after my mom got us stranded in texas and my support system no longer existed. i had nobody to rely on. no plan. and i still turned 18. i still stayed alive, somehow. through all the challenges and all the rock bottoms i hit in the past year, i still stayed alive. and now? im safe. not for a day, not for an hour, but forever. i will never be in the position i was last year ever again, and that truth is finally starting to hit me. and im turning 19. im gonna turn 20 eventually, then 25, 30, 40, ect. im gonna keep living, and i dont doubt that anymore.

i dont see the future as inevitably nonexistent anymore. i see it as tangible. i see it as real. i see myself in it. and thats... new. but im happy, im at peace, and im so excited for what the next few years are gonna bring.

so, happy birthday to me. and here's to many more. i made it. im proud of myself. im so happy.

[kukurubean]

health update

do you like his elton john glasses. I need to paint the rims white i wanted them to be ema glasses lmao

i don't really remember what I updated you guys with last time I made one of these, just know that anything I may have been hopeful about then didn't work out, xywav set me back about 20 levels, and im hashtag #dying all the time bc its been like 3 months of nonstop flare ups with no decent days in between. AND NOW I HAVE A COLD

deep breath

the good news is i went to nova southeastern university's neuro-immune center on monday, and met with the first doctor in 6 years whos ever had me walk out of their office with a care plan

aka apparently i have dysautonomia on top of the fibro and cfs, and thats (probably) the missing link ive been searching for wrt my absolutely insane heartrate+chest pain problems that no one's ever listened to me about. (ever have a cardiologist go on about legumes and hrt and a million other things completely irrelevant to you instead of the fact your echocardiogram felt like someone digging their hand into your chest and scraping your organs with their nails)

so im gonna start chugging liquid iv every day. and im going to try getting fitted for compression garments on saturday. my jokes about not having any blood were apparently always true in the most ironic way. and then I have to try an elimination diet which is really fun because when told i shouldn't eat something my brain's response is "simply dont eat at all" (extremely loud buzzer noise)

I have a appointment later today with a new neurologist (4th one! rain the confetti!) and im not really sure what we're going to go over at this point but. throws dart

[tgirldomme]

okay so this feels kinda weird to ask but other people also did so-

but ive been on T for like 6 months now and I had bottom growth in the beginning but it feels like it's been the same for a bit and I genuinely can't tell if I'm like. progressing at the rate I'm supposed to be because the internet hates me and my parents still control safe search on my phone even though I turn 20 this year and I was wondering if you could check for me? you can totally ignore this if this is weird-

-feathers

no it’s not weird at all!! i’d love to check, it’s practically my duty as a certified boykisser ;)

p.s. i saw u liking a bunch of my posts n was literally about to msg you as you sent this xx

[iamthedamndonutdrawcat]

🧍‍♀️idk how fic culture works + im too dumb and brainrotted to praise this art well enough i'm sorry

If there was one thing Remus Lupin knew for sure, it was to never trust Sirius Black. From feeling the sun on his face after long grey winter months, standing in a dark shower and washing a messy nights’ drunken sweat off his body, the relieve of finally finding his way to a new place without a map, to the rush of perfecting a riff after hours of excruciating work; there were countless moments that reminded him of the happiness that came from gaining distance to Sirius. And still, he found himself searching every room thrice in hopes to find that infuriating bastard. READ THIS AND KNEW IT WAS GONNA BE BOMB LIKE THE WHOLE INTRO IS SOOO GOOD IM NOT EVEN JOKING NVR SAW SOMEONE EAT UP AN INTRO THAT GOOD LIKE

the way u set the scene ?? Like omg it's so good like i felt like I was dropped into the best fic ever but ALSO it gave enough backstory it was like it just made sense idk WHAT i'm saying but the beginning was so strong (as was the middle and end)

In the corner stood Peter’s drum kit. They had moved it here a few years ago when it became clear the established place of music related group hangouts would be at James’ and Peter’s parents had been all too eager to help them load the kit into a rented car and drive it over. At the Potters’ there weren’t easily annoyed siblings, overworked parents or sensitive neighbors sharing a wall with the noise. Though, since moving here the kit had spent lots of time untouched. Peter tried to hide his disappointment about not getting to play the drums as often and had told Remus about feeling as though one of his main outlets had been ripped away from him and placed in an only conditionally accessible space. When Peter faced the drums now, there wasn’t as much practiced confidence that had dictated his moves before. Luckily, Peter had only had enough time to ponder this to tell Remus with an inebriated loose tongue, before James had made Peter forget any and all frustrations with the introduction of the most outlandish gifts his parents had ever granted himI JNOW T G IS PARA !! IVE SEEN IT BEFORE !! AND IT STULL EATSSS

James trying to imitate knay3 ? But sounding like money boy???. Yes.(i dont even kno the second guy + i bareky know kanye and even i can understand how much this metaphor ate)

did I mention how GOOD the flow in this ficnis ??? Bc it is so GOODDDD like the para breaks are at the right time and the timeskips are always eating and ughhh...i lovenyou..

Of course, he enjoyed contemporary music, he wasn’t a total snob! Most of his time online was invested in finding unknown masterminds, the lesser monthly listeners or Google Search results the better. Across the room stood a shelve filled to the brim with his massive physical media collection, so many vinyls and CDs there wasn’t enough room for his books which now formed towers against the only free strip of wall. Remus relished in the confused looks he got for his strange answers to the question who his favourite artist was and prided himself in his vast analogue and digital musical collection. He had invested lots in it, after all: hours of picking through crates filled with crooked vinyls, arguing over prices with grumpy merchants at flea markets, and suffering several viruses while pirating his newest online finds to put on his iPod. Words canot desc how much this para (and the fic and u) means tonme....

the pov!!! IT EATSS LIKE THIS IS EXACTKY HOW A BERLIN REMUS LUPIN IN A MODERN AU'S BRAIN WOUKD SOUND LIKE!! HOW DID U KNOW !!

chronically offline remus...I love him love him love him love him yes he uses an iPad yes he doesn't text yes he hates his laptop yes yes yes

THE WAY U INTRODUCE CHARACTERS IS SOO GOOD ?? LIKE JANETTE IS ONLY PRESENT FOR A LITTLE BITVIN THIS CHWP BUT I ALR KNO HER AESTHETIC ND VIBES ND EVERYTHING?

A few years ago, dinner would have been served by 6:30pm, a candle on the table and Hope’s laughter, her inquiries whether Remus liked the food and sweet reassurances brightening the room. Neither Lyall nor Remus had lit a candle in this flat in 7 years. Ow 🤕

Remus Lupin employed several coping mechanisms to keep himself grounded, one more harmful than the other. His favourite by far, however, was smoking. On a good day, Remus could be seen slinking off the school grounds to the secret smokers’ corner during two of the three 20-minute breaks distributed over the school day. On a bad day, his lighter lit up up to ten times. Smoking gave him a sense of direction, a topic to talk about and get to know someone over, a means to make acquaintances, and an excuse to flee social gatherings. Once again the flow in your sentences and paras?? It feels like I'm swimming (?)

Sirius vaping...remus staring at srs...the GOSSIP??..mary mentioned...yes she would start a cat fight....MARY INTRO YES YES THATS MY WIFE 1🥹🥹🥹 “What are you so prissy about?!” if i would get a tattoo i'd tatto that bc it's the hardest line evr bc im also infact wondering what remus is so prissy abt..mary (and you) eat everytime Maybe smoke five instead of eight blunts a week, yeah?” Mary spat after him, sensing the lie. “Then you’ll be more pleasant to be around.” <- ATEEE

Lyall had given it to him in an attempt to raise Remus’ interest in the digital world and its technological benefits. Remus, however was mostly impassive, wanting to stay offline for the better part of his everyday life. It was a constant point of conflict with the increasingly digitalized world around him, but he stayed stoic and barely used the laptop. He knew how to handle Word and PowerPoint professionally, and that sufficed. Otherwise, he only utilized it to jump on the odd gaming server with the marauders, download a new music release or research a subject for class. Offline remus u will always be famous to me

Gia is so iconic...She had emerged out of the darkness like a fairy and had captured their attention immediately, confidently stepping into the big group of strange teenagers she had never met before, making easy conversation with the girls im crying...I love her and I don't even KNO her ??

Jealous remus....emmeline having a crush on mary...siriue helping emmeline....yes

Oftentimes, when their eyes met across a room, a table or a dark field, surrounded by friends and onlookers, Remus wished he could keep Sirius forever in his room, to spend all their time playing their guitars and turning poems into songs; to take infinite pictures of the beauty lounging on his king sized bed, smiling into the pillow and tracing the vintage Taxi Driver poster Remus had put up years ago, Robert De Niro looking down on them in the hazy light shining in through tall windows. Here, Sirius was never afraid to display his affection, to give out kisses and embraces unabashedly, share his secrets and the thoughts wandering the halls of his mind; and in turn, he let Remus show him his devotion. If Sirius was Remus’ god, this room was their temple; where Remus worshipped and Sirius was merciful, loving and good.Knawing..at ... the bars...of...my...enclosure...

It’s like a fucking pattern. I banter with someone and it’s all fun and games and I enjoy it and let my guard down. But then they hit too close and it strikes so fucking deep and all I can do is react as loud as possible to push them away and make them unsee whatever it is within me…” He had started pulling at the skin of wrist, at the blue trails illustrating the paths of his blood and threatening to bloom into big purple oil patches if he kept pushing and prodding; a nervous tic. Remus stilled his hand, interlacing their fingers. Double ow 🤕🤕

THE BANTER THE DIALOGUE OMIGO OMIGOD this is exactly how marauders in a modern day berlin aunwould act btw they woukd say that they would do that they would think taht this is so accurate

LILY LILY LILY LILY LILY !!!! LILYYYY 🥹🥹 ILY

In early April, spring sprung up on Berlin, lacing the city in golden sunshine and a warm breeze. Remus stood by the bike stands outside school, face upturned to the sun. The warmth on his skin and the wind in the fresh birch leaves above brightened his mood enormously. Berlin winter were long, grey and rude, unforgivingly cold without ever granting the childish joy of snow; in them, old and nasty voices, forgotten throughout the rest of the year but prompted back by the freezing winds, emerged from the dark pits of conscience. Remus preferred spring and knew that, if he kept his face in the sun long enough, the first couple of freckles would appear on the bridge of his nose. Sunshine remus lupin w freckles mentioned *dies*

I love ur lily I love ur Remus I love the rlnship bn lyall and remus (not rlly bc ots sad..i love how u desc it) I love u..Lily being sneaky.....not remus saying him and srs nvr fight 😭😭 I think they fought like 4 or 5 times in this chap alone like JILY CHDCK !! Ppl jeep thinking srs is homophobic...lmao so real /j

Still, the distinct feeling, that they would respect his choices way less if his taste in men turned out to be emotionally ambiguous and snarky ones, prevented him from disclosing anything to anyone, not even Lily triple ow 🤕🤕🤕

have I mentioned how much I love ur OCS and how u desc them?? I think I should've mentioned that bc it's true

hay day farm mentioned....srs Black's ipad...poor leila...srs using chatgpt is so real unfortunately..DORCAS YIPEEE...remus not having whatsapp...markene being gf...remuss nokia...remuss ipod..He’s too scared of getting all the bitches if he had an Instagram account.” cackling..simp jfp ...that's my man right there....srs black is a homophobe send tweet omigod I love this whole section so much...

As a child of constantly busy business entrepreneurs turned lobbyists, James carried a twinge of twisted abandonment with him; even though it seemed utterly ungrateful. Fleamont and Euphemia were completely smitten with their son, willing to give him anything he politely asked for. James had never needed to be scared of a topic, a question or a request; there was nothing his parents were unwilling to discuss with him. Maybe that was why it cut him so deep when his parents were out again, busy with an enterprise or acquaintances, and why he was so eager to fill the empty house with friends and noise. With Sirius there, James needn’t worry about the silence his parents left behind. TY FOR GIVING JAMES LAYERS !! THIS IS V IMP TO ME!!!

problematic marlene :/ real I fear ty for not making ththe ers (esp the women) perf ppl w no mistakes and the same opinions this is also v imp to me

Still, he remembered the intensity, the agony, the soul gripping bone breaking breath-taking choking all-encompassing pain, how it formed the entire world into a dark place full of trip hazards and sharp edges, pulling and ripping at him, until all that was left were his own hands and what lay beneath them. The only way of forming the world was deforming himself. It was a thought-eliminating numbness he couldn’t find anywhere else, neither in weed or the pills he’d tried at parties ages ago or in the feeling of a body against, around his own.He remembered the many tearful nights that led him to where he is now – covered. His arms in scars, barely showing the smooth skin that once lay beneath. His arms in clothes, always long-sleeved. It’s been four years since the sun last touched his skin and the only eyes that ever lay on it are those of his father, the medical staff at the A&E, his therapist, James, Sirius, Peter and, glimpsing, even Lily. Quadruple ow 🤕🤕🤕🤕

Marlene and srs banter / arguments is so perf had a group chat – without Remus, of course – I love ur offline remus ALSO I LOVE THE WAY U PWINT PICS W UR WORDS ?? LIKE IVE NVR BEEN IN A BAR BUT IK WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE NOW LIKE U COULD GIVE ME 1HR IN BERLIN AND ID B ABLE TO IDENTIFY IT

Sirius told some half-assed story about wanting to DJ at a club, while the truth was none of the boys actually made an effort to secure themselves a place in Berlin’s music industry. Their dreams about performing on stage and their half-baked Soundcloud singles were still a private matter and taking the big stage still wasn’t an immediate urgency. Ik I've been saying this alot but umm this is also v imp to me !! Like obvi they can b ambitious and etc etc but they're babies. !! They shld take it slow 🥹🥹 !

Holy shit the tone shift + marpene and srs argument he rolled his eyes at Remus in a relatable manner, expecting Remus’ approval and their joint ridiculing of the girls and their unreasonable lyrical criticisms. But Remus didn’t approve – not completely, at least – and only raised an eyebrow and shrugged in return. Sirius lowered the bottle and glared at Remus with an icy expression, splintered and cutting quintuple ow 🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕

urbwriting...omigod YOU WRITINGGGGGGG ITS SO GOODODOODODO ??? LIKE IM DEAD (im so sorrt for my brainrot)

peter and remus frndship...“I don’t feel replaced!” Peter cried with strangely glassy eyes.bthis para has me going :( but then i rmbr i'm reading the best thing ive evr read and i go :)

Remus didn’t want to fight; he wanted to hold and be held. Tattooing this into my eyes brb..ok I'm back ! No space between them remained and somewhere in that limbo a low moan emitted and Remus was unsure where he began and Sirius ended. Nothing mattered except the smell and feel of Sirius, the moment reduced to purely sensations as the light overhead died and hid them in darkness. It's so poetic I'm acc crying rn not even joking (tho thwt cld just b the tatto...)Even in the deepest fury, he was unable to keep away. <- peak wolfstar

the whole argument is so tense?? Like how do u do that?? I feel like I'm in the room w them?? Something passed wordlessly between them, an understanding, an apology, a promise to be better; and Sirius eyes crinkled and Remus’ felt like he might melt into the ground. All was good. <- phew Regrettably, tranquility couldn’t be trusted and on a silent late afternoon, the unexpected shrill of the doorbell pulled Remus out of his dreamy peaceful wonderland. <- uh oh

THE ENTIRE LAST SECTION IS SOOO GOOD I KNOW I SOUND LIKE A BROKEN RECORD PLAYER BUT ITS TOO GOOD OMIGO OMIGOD OMIGOD THE DOMFORT THE HURT THE EVERTHING TBE POETRY THE PINING THE YEARNING THE "ARE WE BOYFRIENDS" THE SWEETNESS THE TEARS IN MY EYES IM DYING NO LITR IM DYINGGGGG

Wld like to add u didnot make srs the typical dramatic (?) Thing or amth I saw smwhere u said u were worried of diung that and u didn't at alllllll EVERYTHING IS SO PEREFCT I LOVE MY CHILDREN, THIS FIC AND YOUU IM SENDING SM GOOD VIBES THIS WAY + SINCEREST APOLOGIES FOR MY BULLSHIT

i wanted to answer ur first ask but u litr broke my tumblr there is NO reply button anymore on that ask lmaooo

Um. THANK YOU SO MUCH SO MUCB SO MUCH I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I ADORE YOU WHAT THE FUCK!!!????????? OH MY GODDD 💖💞💖💞💖💞💖💞💖💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💞💖💞💖💞💞💖💞💖

i've been rereading ur two asks ALL DAY im supposed to be partying rn but i was just smiling at my phone like AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA dw abt anything because you made my day no you made my week no i will NEVER recover. this is SO great to hear ily forever (i already did but im ASTOUNDED at how much u liked this)

um i dont even know what to say but like. I am So Infinitely Happy to read about all the tidbits u liked and like YESSSS I AM SO GLAD U SEE THESE THINGS

f.e. I was nervous abt my marlene (&lily) bc theyre lowk bitches but like. Thats what i like about them, let girls be bitchy and have faults omg??

also i just want to say that this sirius, My Sirius has grown so onto me i love him i adore him i want to hold him (but he wouldnt like that) and soothe him but u fear its only getting worse for a bit OOPS

offline remus is so real to me i cannot see that man have an insta or tiktok acc omg

no but on god it means so much to me that u like my writing style and all!!!!! i havent written in so long and its so nice to have that confirmation. Idk im on my feet 4 u rn ily ily ily ily i know the joke is so unfunny but you are MY favourite yapper!!!!!!!!