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mysticworks · 1 day

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One day too late ~ LN4 x Reader

Lando x Pregnant! Reader; Coworker! Reader; Very Angsty; mentions of intimacy but nothing explicit; Borderline Forbidden love; Reader & Lando are friends with feelings

S Y N O P S I S:

Carried away at the party, you and Lando share a beautiful night. Lando, worried about the implications on his career, urges you to pretend it never happened, ignoring your feelings for each other...until 6 weeks later you find out you're carrying his child. Word count: 1.5k

[ Drop a comment to be tagged in part 2 ]

A beam of sun in your eyes pulled you out of your slumber.

Sore. Head pounding. A deep ache in your lower stomach.

It took you a few seconds to realise that this wasn't your room. The unfamiliar sheets, the duvet much thicker and heavier. There seemed to be so much room across the mattress, stretching out in its emptiness.

Then every memory from last night came tumbling through.

After a launch party of the new 2024 season, you’d found yourself a little too lost in the celebrations, Lando right beside you in fits of giggles and dances.

You'd always had feelings for Lando, ever since you joined the PR team during his rookie days - the working time together bonding into a quickly growing friendship. Yet something had always stopped you from taking it further.

And so when Lando placed his hands on your waist last night, his face inches away from yours before your lips finally collided - every rational thought was thrown out the window.

The heat of the party. The excitement and psychedelic blood rush. Climbing into Lando’s car. Your legs, entangled. His whisper of sudden hot, breathless confession. Your heart pounding in reciprocated emotions. Your hands in his curl, his...

You shot up in bed, last night now a vivid image.

Lando was sitting across the room, on his computer, headphones flung around his neck. His eyes flick away from the computer screen at your sudden movement, coming to rest on you, and he draws in a long breath.

You felt the air leave your lungs. How did he manage to look so gorgeous even in the mornings?

“How are you feeling?” You blinked at his break of silence, words not quite making it out of your mouth.

“Yeah, I’m…” Raking your fingers through your curtain of bangs in an attempt to collect your thoughts, “I’m fine.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the pounding headache too.” Lando shrugged, sighing, before powering down the screen and in a swift motion making his way across the room, over to you.

Awkwardness suddenly overcame you and you did everything to avert your gaze from his.

This proved pointless as he sat himself in front of you, the mattress dipping under his weight. You could feel the warmth radiate off his body, his finger coming to rest under your chin as he forced your eyes to meet.

“Are you okay?” There was a sadness in Lando’s eyes, one that didn’t quite match the gentleness of his voice. You mumbled a reply, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks - his face was so close - forcing your heart to respond with a quickened beat.

“Listen, I’m sorry for last night.” Your brows found themselves furrowing at his words.

“Sorry?”

“We shouldn’t have…” He raked his curls, shutting his eyes tight for a brief moment, as if pained to say the words.

His voice was quieter when he spoke again, “We shouldn’t have done what we did y/n.”

You felt something stab at your chest. “I don’t understand, Lando, I like you, you like me, we’ve known each other for years…what’s…what’s the - ”

He didn't give you a chance to finish. “I can’t risk having…I just can’t risk a relationship right now. We can’t - ”

He pauses, gaze softening as you feel your eyes well up, but you’re determined to keep a stoic expression on your face.

It didn't help that Lando was looking at you with such an intense look in his eye, his hand cupping your cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you saying we can't date?”

You felt your voice betray you, a single tear spilling down your cheek. Lando used his thumb to wipe it away, taking in a shaky breath.

He looked away. “Please. I’m sorry.” His eyes were almost telling you to stay, now also welled with redness, but his words said differently.

You felt the world collapse. Your breath hitched. A tremor shot through your limbs as you scrambled out from Lando’s bed. He got up too from his seat, standing limply in the centre of his room.

It was then you realised you were in his clothes, his loose tee reaching your knees, a pair of his joggers clumsily worn over your legs. You paid no heed, now eager to just leave. To run away and hide.

Never had rejection been so cold. It was almost like he’d used you. A part of you wanted to scream at him, throw things and ask him “why,” yet you felt as if life had been sucked out of you.

One of the best days of your life had been merely hours ago, before turning into a nightmare.

“Y/n…” You’d only just reached the door, but his call made you stop in your tracks. There was a shameless hope he’d changed his mind.

“Here. It’s cold out.”

He held out one of his hoodies, passing it to you in a gesture to take it.

You did. Curt and refusing to meet his gaze, before turning around stiffly.

And without another word, you left his apartment, refusing to look back.

----------------------

You weren’t sure when you got home, drenched from the rain that came gushing down along the way.

You weren’t sure of much…only that your relationship with Lando was over.

Over before it had even begun.

Climbing out of bed the next day was the worst feeling. With no energy in your limbs, you called in sick to work, refusing to face anyone at the McLaren office, but more importantly, avoiding Lando.

You stayed in bed, too exhausted from crying to move.

It wasn’t until a week later that you finally showed up at work. The pain seemed to have subdued; now replaced with forever changing moods. At times you were down in the dumps, exhausted and tired - your head slightly foggy - other times, irritable and angry. Yet you ploughed on at work, ignoring the sleepless nights and restless evenings.

Avoiding Lando at work was near impossible, and yet you managed. Only speaking to him when absolutely unavoidable through email, or putting on your best corporate voice.

Eye contact was avoided altogether, even when he craned his head to catch your gaze, you turned away.

That was a satisfaction you refused to give him.

At 2 weeks it seemed the restless nights had been replaced with exhausted ones, a full night's sleep still leaving you fatigued and nauseous in the mornings. You blamed the sickness on heartbreak.

Lando watched you more often now, sitting in the lobby of your office during lunch breaks. You turned down the blinds and shut him out.

-------------------

The realisation came, 6 weeks post heartbreak. A quick glance at your calendar told you you’d missed your cycle. The nausea, tiredness, mood swings all made sense now - each jigsaw piece coming together to fit the puzzle.

Although the fear of raising a baby alone rose in your throat, you were determined to do it. You knew Lando had a right to know. Yet somewhere, deep down in your heart, you refused to give him that.

Perhaps you were running away.

Perhaps this was your revenge.

Your resignation made sure he’d never know.

L A N D O 'S P O V:

They say you don’t know the value of something until it’s gone. I've learnt this truth the hard way.

I’ve watched her everyday since that night; desperately trying to catch her eye at work; take her aside and apologise. Tell her we can make this happen... start over, uncaring of the world and it's concerns.

I've watched her everyday, slowly starting to shrivel. The bags under her eyes, the tiredness in her smile. I’ve watched her at lunch, nibbling at almost nothing at her plate before silently excusing herself away.

It devastates me to know that this pain is from me. I have caused it and she didn't deserve it. How I wish I could tell her that I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.

I miss her smile. Her company; once a comfort. I miss having her by my side; encouraging; so full of energy.

And so this is my chance. My chance to finally set things right.

Clutching the bouquet - glitter roses I spent the last night making - I head over to the PR query desk, determined to start again, if she can give me the chance.

There’s a new member of staff at the desk; someone I’ve never seen before and he tilts his head up at me, hearing my approach, flashing me a smile.

He thinks I’m here for a project meeting and begins to rise from his seat, holding up a clipboard as if ready to pass it over.

“I’m looking for y/n, l/n.” A moment passes.

Legs jittering. Heart tight and constricted; there’s a sense of urgency swelling in me as if telling me to hurry, rushing me to make things right. My fingers tap at the desk, impatient.

He gives a sigh, furrowing his brows and lowering the clipboard back into place.

“I'm afraid she's not here. She gave in her resignation yesterday.”

The words hit me like a boulder to the chest.

My legs feel heavy, a tornado whirling in the pit of my stomach. My fingers unclench from the bouquet and with a soft thud, the flowers thud to the ground; petals ripping apart from impact.

They've crumbled. Glitter littering the floor.

It was over.

I was one day too late.

Taglist: @hc-dutch @racinggirl @aileeincomplexity @kravitzwhore @eringaitskill @adoreyou-ido @landoslutmeout @queenofmanydreams

#ln4 #ln4 ang #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 angst #formula one angst #formula 1 angst #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris angst #lando norris x oc #lando norris x you #f1 angst

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ithebookhoarder · 2 days

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Could you write an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader fic? They are newly weds and the reader wishes to pamper Anthony while he is bathing. He’s a bit cautious about it at first because he is not used to such affection. Thank youu I love your writing a lot especially the truth or dare fic.

In Your Hands (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)

A/N: First of all, thank you so much! And I hope you like this. Thanks for sending this ask in, luckily I was already toying with a few Bridgerton ideas thanks to the new trailers so this came surprisingly easy.

Also, if any of you guys enjoy my work, or just feel like it, then consider buying me a cup of coffee here: https://ko-fi.com/ithebookhoarder ☕️

Warnings: Nudity references, the start of sexy-times, alcohol

Masterlist

Anthony was someone who hated routine. After all, as much as he was devoted to the day to day duties that came with being the head of his family, if he had his way he would escape the city and the ton, choosing instead the peace and tranquility offered by the countryside, at Aubrey Hall. He dreamed of being able to be just a brother, son and - as of recently - a husband.

Only married a few months, your new husband was keen to seize each and every opportunity to escape his duties when they appeared - whether it was sneaking off for long rides in the countryside, or making an early exit from whatever social gathering you both had been forced to attend as the new Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton; Whatever allowed you both to be alone and back in one another’s arms (usually sans clothes) as soon as possible, was a good idea to him.

It was no surprise then, that there was one part of his daily routine that Anthony actually relished: bathing.

Oh, yes. There was little more in the world that could bring your fully-grown husband such child-like joy as being able to soak in a tub of steaming hot water for an hour or two. The sight always made you smile as you entered your bedroom: Anthony, half asleep, looking as if the stress had physically melted away.

It was your favourite sight - and not just because of the exquisite view it granted you of his sculpted form - but because of how calm and peaceful he looked. It was as if he had transformed back into the mischievous and carefree boy you’d first fallen in love with all those years ago. Back when your only concerns had been not tripping on your skirt at your presentation, making sure you were actually asked to dance at a ball, and surviving the social season without embarrassing your family or getting yourself roped into some scandal.

Whilst you knew neither you nor Anthony would ever change a single thing about your life together, you knew it came with a cost. In fact, today it had been enduring hours of talks with local tenants, the family’s book keeper, estate managers, and even several possible suitors looking to secure some kind of marriage contract with one of his younger sisters. (You’d been informed by several members of the household staff that those meetings had been remarkably swift, however, with each unfortunate man looking rather dejected as they were shown from the house).

If you’d been able to spare him the pain or share his burden you would have, but unfortunately you’d been occupied with matters of your own. Being the lady of such a grand estate came with duties of its own, and you were quite done looking over seating arrangements, replying to correspondence, and paying social calls for one day.

Still, at least you’d both survived to tell the tale - no wonder Anthony looked half asleep. Then again, maybe it had something to do with the open bottle of whiskey that sat on the table beside the tub. You knew without looking at the label which bottle it was, having smuggled it out of the library yourself to enjoy together.

“Anthony Bridgerton!” A fake gasp of horror escaped your lips as you appeared in the doorway, a hand pressed to your chest. “You are a sneak and a traitor. That whiskey was for me too, you know.”

“And a good evening to you too, my love. Never fear, there’s plenty to share,” he teased, head relaxed, tipped backward as he took a sip from the glass in his hand. Your eyes were transfixed on the hollow of his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Besides, I would apologise but I simply couldn’t wait a minute longer. Not when I couldn’t feel my back from sitting at that desk all afternoon.”

The moan that escaped his lips was almost sinful as he sank a little lower in the water.

“Well, you’re forgiven. You look far too content for me to even dream of being mad,” you sighed, drawing close and perching on the rim of the tub. Anthony handed over the whiskey glass with a soft smile, letting you take a sip of your own before you placed it back onto the table.

You could feel the warmth seep into your bones immediately, even if that was also likely in part to your proximity to the tub and your naked husband.

“Do you want me to wash your hair?”

Anthony’s eyebrows rose at the question, the surprise written across his face. “What?”

“You heard me,” you teased, reaching up to run your fingers through the soft strands of hair atop his head. “I can wash your hair, and get your back for you. Unless you’d rather do it yourself, or I can ring for someone?”

“What? No, that’s uh, that’s not necessary,” he chuckled, visibly flustered - which was amusing and perplexing. After all, it wasn’t as if you two hadn’t seen and touched every single inch of the other in the weeks since your wedding. However, he looked almost confused at the idea that you would offer such a thing. “You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to,” you soothed. “Let me take care of you, for once. Husband.”

It was probably below the belt to purr his title like that, but you knew how that one little word had the power to reduce the great Viscount Bridgerton to a puddle. That, along with the warmth of the water and the buzz of the whiskey, made him almost pliant to your every whim. Still, you knew him well enough to recognise the lingering hesitation in his eyes as he nodded in agreement.

He very rarely let his guard down or allowed anyone to assist him in any way. You sometimes believed that had the servants not been dependant upon their work to make a living that Anthony would have dismissed them long ago and tried to run the entire estate single handedly just to prove he could. That he was worthy of the title he bore, and that he was every bit as great a man, brother, and husband as his father.

It appeared he was the same way when it came to letting himself be taken care of and it made your heart ache for the man you loved.

Pressing a triumphant kiss to his lips, you swiftly manoeuvred yourself, pulling up a stool and grabbing a jug from the dresser.

“Just relax… trust me,” you murmured, waiting until he did as he was bid. The gesture alone said volumes, more so than any words ever could.

Waiting until his eyes were shut, you reached for the soap, tilting his head against your chest as you began to massage the mixture into his scalp. Yet again, your husband seemed to transform into a cat, purring with every touch in a way that made it suddenly very difficult to resist the urge to strip off and join your husband in the water instead.

“Enjoying yourself?” You giggled as Anthony barely managed more than a groan in reply.

It was taking every ounce of your self control to focus your attentions solely on Anthony, and not on the way his body seemed to be reacting to your ministrations. Thankfully, you were able to last long enough to finish the job, using the jug to rinse the water through his hair, making sure to angle his head upwards so the water ran off him instead of into his eyes.

But you were only human; the minute you were done washing the last suds from his scalp you made your move. Sliding off the stool, you knelt beside him and reached out to caress his cheek, causing him to open his eyes almost sleepily. Leaning forward you planted a soft, delicate kiss to his lips, causing him to groan in response.

Without saying a word, his hands rose, twisting their way into your hair as he deepened his kiss. It was clear what he wanted next.

“Now, wife,” he growled, pulling back just long enough to reach down and tug teasingly at the tie of your dress-robe. You could feel the warmth of his touch as his wet body began to dampen the material. “I think it’s your turn to let me take care of you… so you’d better get in here, before I drag you in here.”

#ithebookhoarder #masterlist #thesilentmage #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton fanfiction #jonathan bailey #Bridgerton

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buckttommy · 3 days

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what's interesting is that 911 has always been an abnormal fan experience in the sense that every main character is endgame paired up almost immediately: bobby and athena go on a date and the end of season 1; by Season 2 they are married. buck and eddie meet in season 2, by Season 4/5, they were supposed to be a Thing. hen/karen were married before the show even aired, Maddie and Chimney meet in season 2. by the end of Season 3, they're pregnant and... in some way it makes me wonder how much borrowed time 9-1-1 was living on at FOX. or, for how long were they aware that they were living on borrowed time, i should say. because the speedrun through pairing their couples up is similar to Netflix's pacing schedule in the sense that Netflix showrunners rarely know if/how their shows are going to survive, so there's a sense of urgency there to tie everything up with a nice bow Just In Case. But it's also like... this fandom has never truly experienced fandom problems. sure we've had racism, infighting, whatever. But we have never truly experienced what it means to be a fan of a procedural. And if you're young, and 9-1-1 is your first major fandom period, you've never experienced it at all. And I'm just thinking about people's response to BuckTommy, thinking about people, like, "okay so buck and eddie have to have a feelings reveal by the end of S7 because it's time!" and it's just like... Well. No. You've just been spoiled by the weight of the executioner's axe against our necks. But that axe is gone now and, for all intents and purposes, 9-11 is a brand new show. Which means... we are about to formally introduced to what it looks like when a show is allowed to slow down its pace and breathe and have Fandom Problems (and yes that includes ship wars. gasp!), and to be frankly honest, I don't think any of you are ready for that.

#tv: 911 #jack.txt #meh. anyways

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bunnys-kisses · 1 day

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jailhouse rock au - again! (master-list) <3

i imagine that simon would get rather insecure when you two were in public. while he adored you, he'd move the sun across the sky for you! but shouldn't you be with someone better?

someone who wasn't working a blue collar job in small parts manufacturing, who wasn't a former criminal? like simon stole and was locked away in the can for several years because of it! what kind of man would look a woman like you in the eyes and you'd say, 'i want you.', it left a clench in his gut that he couldn't get over.

he wanted to be good enough, but failed. just like he failed at being good enough for his father. sometimes his old man's words made him shiver at inopportune times.

"simon." you said.

"yes, love." his attention was drawn to you.

you leaned over, closer to him and rubbed his forehead softly, "you're getting worry lines."

he leaned in to kiss you, his hands were on your legs that were draped over his lap. he said, "sorry, love."

but no matter how much the anxiety bit at him, you loved him with your whole heart. you never shielded your love away from him, you found that when you were with him, you simply lit up. you could do all the mushy couples stuff together.

"we should go on the ferris wheel!"

"look there's a photobooth over there."

"i'm grabbing another straw to try some of that milkshake of yours!"

and simon ate it up. and as you got further into your pregnancy, you became more "mushy" as you said. you'd cry more often, but you weren't a weak woman. if anything you still commanded your little household more than before. because now simon couldn't say no to his pregnant girlfriend.

"yes, love." he said to your request as he was nuzzled up with your belly. he basked in its warmth for a minute before he got up to do what you asked.

your life wasn't without arguments, simon could be closed off and have a dark storm cloud over his head. but he would never tell you why, it drove you crazy when it happened. you knew so much yet so little, you had his entire life mapped out but his childhood (the root of some of his issues) was entirely blank in your memory.

"speak to me, simon... i'll never judge."

"i don't wanna scare ya off."

you reached out for him and got as close as you could. you stood on your tiptoes to be more eye level. you held onto his face and said simply, "simon, if i was scared off. i would've never sent that letter."

and simon replied, "never leave." and pulled you into a tight hug. and for the first time in many years, he cried. he cried so hard that he had to go on his knees with you because he felt so weak.

he was your lover, your pen pal! he was everything. and as you kissed him on the cheek you said, "nothing will ever take us away from one another."

later that evening, you thought you'd be sweet and feed him crisps from the bag while his head was in your lap. while he softly licked the seasoning off your fingers, you let out a small moan.

simon smiled a bit, his heart of ice was completely melted with you. and with a hand up the skirt of your maternity dress. his tongue was on your fingers while his fingers were skimming your pussy.

"tomorrow." you said, "i want to know everything i can about simon riley."

he looked up at you with those dark eyes of his. he nodded and said, "of course, love. now c'mere."

let's say that the most fun you ever had having sex with him up to that point was when he took you on the couch. however it did leave you with a pretty bruise on your knees from pressed into the base of the couch while you rode him. <3

#bunny writes #jailhouse rock au #call of duty #reader insert #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty smut #simon ghost riley #call of duty x reader #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley smut

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vitaminseetarot · 2 days

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Poll PAC: What Your Next Birthday Celebration Will Be Like 🎂🎉🎁

Sup y'all, welcome back to another PAC reading. This time I'm doing a special 1 year/birthday/poll topic of choice themed pick a card! This is also a special one as VitaminSee now has 300 followers! Holy crap thank you for your support everyone! I haven't been able to get on Tumblr for a while, so I apologize if it seems like I've dropped from the aether. Life is starting to enter its hectic phase right now! Thank you so much for your patience. I'm waiting for life things to straighten out (lol as if life ever does) before I go ahead and offer some basic paid readings, which I hope to do in May.

This topic is for the next birthday you have coming up, whether that's tomorrow or next year. For my selection, I was recently lucky to have found the Wild Wisdom Companion book among a vast pile of discounted books. It's based on the Wheel of the Year. I thought this deck was perfect for making piles themed around the progression of the year and how our birthdays respond to the passage of the seasons. Pick whichever one of the Spring themed card you like most down below:

Pile 1 - The Unfurling 🌱 Pile 2 - The Wind 🕊 Pile 3 - The Door 🗝 Pile 4 - The Alchemist 🍾

Pile 1 - The Unfurling

Sagittarius - Expand, Level Up, Shadow, Isolation; XVII Star, 3 of Cups, XXI World, Ace of Wands, 5 of Cups

Hello, pile 1! Your birthday is going to be the start of great expansion. Your first three oracle cards spell it out so clearly! Sagittarius is all about shooting for seemingly farfetched goals and striking the target anyway. There is so much growth going on in your pile. You're probably anticipating your next chapter to be one of reaching beyond the horizon and feeling ready to do so. Ideas or wishes that seemed impossible may be coming closer to being within your grasp. Your life is ready to take it up a notch immediately after your next birthday, where things may begin to feel like they're accelerating. Don't worry about the turbulence, it's all a part of the movement. Breaking out of your comfort zone may feel scary, but something about your next birthday will set off a chain of events that will propel you to a new phase of life.

I have a feeling that many who choose this pile will be in a transitory stage of life, like you're getting ready to start college or a new job around your birthday. It's not just another year older, this next one will be extra meaningful in terms of receiving something you've been longing for in quite some time. It's something you've been greatly eager to begin. I don't any sense that you'll be looking back too much once you go forward, since you'll be thrust rather quickly in your next chapter.

But it's still okay if you're experiencing anxiety over it, even if it's something you've really wanted. Anxiety, doubt, and fear are not necessarily indicators that something isn't right for you. It's normal to get cold feet in this context. A sprout breaking from its seed shell is no small feat; it requires a great amount of momentum and motivation. Congratulate yourself for having come this far. Let your birthday be a chance to celebrate this. Give yourself the opportunity to commemorate with friends, if they wanna help give you a birthday to remember then let them. They may feel the vibe as much as you will on that day. Don't be afraid to take that day trip out to a new place you've never seen.

What's interesting about the Isolation card is that it shows two cups. There is meanwhile a Friendship card in this deck with only one cup. So I don't know if the words were swapped with the images or what, but the sense I get is that you will very likely be in good company during your birthday. They may want to take you out dancing (the Ace of Wands is reminding me of disco lights). However, even in the midst of the event, you may feel the urge to hide away from the crowd. I'm picturing someone stepping out of a house during a party. You may need to catch your breath at times in order to process the emotions you're experiencing, as you have a lot of energetic, lit up cards just before the five of cups.

Again, getting in dark negative moods is normal when you're facing a big new stage is not indicative that things will go wrong if it's something you know you're looking forward to. If you end up spending most of the day with friends, find some space to be at peace by yourself so you can even out your feelings. These intense moods will come and go on their own, so make sure to stay balanced (and not too overly caffeinated lol) on your birthday.

Pile 2 - The Wind 🕊

Third House - Communication, A New Day, Ball Pits, Family; 10 of Swords, 5 of Cups, III Empress, Knight of Pentacles, 4 of Cups

How's it going pile 2? I couldn't help but notice you have two pairs of swallows in your reading. Birds may have some significance for you, maybe you'll go birdwatching or even get a pet bird. For a small number of you, the birthday could involve a plane flight out of home for a quick trip. Could you be visiting family members? There's a lot of communication going on, for sure. Even if you're not traveling out by flight, you may have family members show up to take you out somewhere. They may be insistent on seeing you, talking to you, and spending time with you. The phone might blow up first thing in the morning with notifications and voicemail.

But I'm seeing a lot of hesitance in your tarot cards. You may be feeling tired or burned out and not necessarily in the mood to celebrate. The previous year was a doozy for you so perhaps catching up on sleep is more of your priority. Ever get the feeling of wanting to sleep because life is overwhelmed and you're like, "I give up (for now)?" and call it a day? You need to give yourself a chance to recuperate around your birthday, before during and after. Have a break so you can fully recover and receive all that the coming year has to offer you.

That means letting loved ones in your life, be they bio family or chosen family, understand that you'd rather have a small get together or a chance to rest every now and then if you're invited out somewhere. If you choose to go out, there's nothing wrong with taking it slow and easy, or doing something casual like grabbing some ice cream and sitting by the riverside to ponder the next year. Communicate your feelings instead of bottling them up in an attempt to keep up with everybody else. Don't let anyone convince you of how you should celebrate, it's your day your rules!

Others of you who have a little more energy, a little more of that "last year sucks, I need to go out and do something fun to sweat it off!", I feel like the ball is emphasized here with Knight of Pentacles beneath Ball Pits. Some of you looking for more action and noise may choose to go to a ball game, or spend time at the arcade playing pinball with friends. It could even be mini golf. Whether you are the low energy (calm) or high energy (excited) seeking type, getting the chance to have some fun is important, as long as it feels right for you.

This is the pile most likely to get some kind of surprise, be that a party (high energy) or a surprise gift (low energy). There will be a sense of being pampered. Some of you may get a larger number of gifts than you may have expected. You may receive a very beautiful gift, something you may treasure for a long time. Whatever it may be, allow yourself to thoroughly enjoy it and express that joy. Let yourself embrace gratitude, being mindful of what you have now regardless of how your last year has been and how your next year will be. For your next birthday, try to focus on the present (in both meanings).

Pile 3 - The Door 🗝

South Node - Past, Let Your Light Shine, Bubble Gum, Winter; Ace of Cups, 9 of Swords, 3 of Pentacles, XIX Sun, Page of Wands

Hey pile 3! For your next birthday, I'm definitely seeing you go outside to celebrate. There may be an actual party held outdoors, or you might choose to go out somewhere. I'm seeing parks, possibly national parks or natural trails. I'm getting the feeling of warm sunshine, the weather will likely cooperate perfectly on your day. You could be cruising through town, going from store to store (the 3 of pentacles reminds me of a mall here). Your birthday feels expansive and adventurous, ready for something new.

A small number of you may wish to engage a little bit in the spotlight, or you may be placed into a position of receiving more attention on this day. If you wish to, your birthday would be a great day to showcase your talents or passions, since I'm picking up a bit of Leo energy in this pile. With lips in Bubble Gum, you could be giving a speech? I'm picturing an actual toast, if you feel the strong urge to speak out then do so, let yourself be heard. I'm also seeing people sing for you at restaurants, so if that isn't your style, it's best to find a place to eat that doesn't do that sort of thing.

This birthday could be like your own version of a New Year's Eve celebration. Some of you may actually be born in the winter or around New Year's, so holidays and birthdays could tie in together. You're wanting your birthday to stand out amidst the traditional festivities (I've known many people born around Christmas who hate having their birthday gifts thrown under the tree, so you're not alone in that frustration!). You may get the idea of doing something out of the ordinary. Let yourself take the spotlight--it's your special occasion!

There's a message in your pile of letting old things go as you step into a new age. Old things from the year prior may still be sticking onto you, old issues from unresolved matters may pop up. They could be on the more practical side, like needing to sign something or finish a task on time. Be ready to step into the future unafraid--now is the time to shed the baggage. Your birthday can be the fresh start to a bright new trip around the sun, but you gotta give yourself that chance. If something needs to be resolved, and you got the time, tie up your loose ends beforehand so it's not weighing on you as you celebrate.

Your birthday is a threshold to an exciting new time for you. It may be like a breath of fresh air. I keep hearing "refreshed" and "invigorated", so this may be how you feel at the end of your birthday. You may do something that makes you think, "huh, why don't I do this more often?" That could be the key for you to step into something brand new. Will spending time with your friends refresh you, or going to a concert and discovering a new band that you will fall in love with as it warms up the show? Or may you desire to spend more time out in nature? Lean into what lights you up, listen to what engages you, and move from there.

Pile 4 - The Alchemist 🍾

Imum Coeli - Roots, Snow Day, Forest, Transformation; 3 of Cups, 6 of Cups, Ace of Swords, XII Hanged Man, 8 of Swords

What's up, pile 4? Your birthday is looking to be the absolute warmest and coziest out of all the piles. Many of you may identify strongly with introversion. I'm sensing a lot of you have your birthday around autumn or the cooler times of the year when most people are ready to bundle up in blankets or sit by the wood stove while awaiting the first signs of frost. Many of you may get a lucky chance to stay at home instead of needing to work or go to school, so you'll have the day off to plan out what you want to do. Others of you may desire to take time off if you have the chance to, I would go for it especially if you've been feeling the need to rest. You may live near trees or desire to be out in nature as a way to kick back.

I'm seeing someone invite a few friends over to watch old reruns of favorite shows while baking. It could be a gathering of closest friends, I'm not getting the sense that it'll be a big to-do bash. This day will be short, sweet, and simple. It's a good day for doing hobbies or spending time indulging in the gifts you were given. Some of you may rather spend time with family or those you live with instead of inviting people over. You and your family may share a special way of celebrating birthdays, I don't know of any birthday specific cultural traditions from the top of my head but you may have special rituals unique to you and your family. Either way, I get that you'll have a modest celebration that's nevertheless full of camaraderie and relaxing activities.

The description for the Alchemist card says "Allow Transformation", and you have another Transformation card. You may be doing a lot of transmuting on the inside, working through old stubborn patterns and limiting beliefs around this time. I'm seeing the ball of flame near the snow as if you're melting old self-sabotaging blockages away to make room for more growth in your coming year. This flame, this transmuting energy, is making way for the new to arrive.

The Hanged Man being tangled up in vines beneath a forest makes me think that you've been hung up on something that needs to be let go. You must prune in order to effectively grow. Too much in a small space can lead to cramming and confusion. You must deal with the thoughts tangling themselves up in your mind before cultivating the thoughts you want in their place. Changes may happen slowly on the outside, but when certain patterns are fully cleared out things can really take off.

So, for example, let's say you've wanted to sign up for a ceramics workshop for your birthday, or spend the day cleaning house (if you happen to find cleaning therapeutic). To do so, you'll need to not only free up your schedule, but free your mind of thoughts trying to convince you that you can't learn or can't clean. Perhaps it's difficult to not see the forest as just a bundle of trees. But a forest is more than trees, it's an entire system that supports itself in a perpetual cycle. Don't fill up your days with too many tasks, especially on your birthday. Pace the day with both the things you want to do and the things you have to do. The time around birthday will show you how to integrate the best of both worlds. We can have cake and eat it too, it's just a matter of pacing and doing things one at a time.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

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thesiltverses · 3 days

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so i know that the silt verses is approaching its series finale, and i have (allegedly) made peace* with this inevitability. however.

.....is there any chance you guys could be bribed into.... not.... ending the show.... 👀 like i'm not trying to say my mother-in-law makes THE best lemon squares and butter tarts in all of ontario, but i'm also not NOT saying that.

the best confectionary goodness you've ever tasted in exchange for more silt verses, what do u say

*i may still be in the bargaining stage of grief, actually

(also all of this is a joke!! hahaha! unless 👀)

Hahaha, your mother-in-law sounds awesome, and her sweet treats sound delicious!

I know this is a joke (unless 👀), but to answer it sincerely: like most kids, I used to love building Lego. Great towering mangled constructions. And you always got to a point where it was almost finished, probably finished - but the temptation persisted to keep building. Perhaps one detail more? One extra addition, make it taller, make it bigger? And then you'd try and jam another brick on and the whole thing would fall off-balance or collapse into pieces.

And then you had a reckoning with yourself; you'd spoiled your own work because you didn't know how to stop.

When it comes to the world and story of TSV, I of course feel the temptation to keep jamming on more bricks, but I also know what we'd be risking.

Whether it's mainstream TV shows or indie audiodramas, I think there are very few multi-season serials that are universally agreed to stick the landing of their final season; almost every single longform show is popularly considered to have some dropoff in quality or some kind of disappointment in how it handles its ending (even The Wire, Breaking Bad, The Sopranos).

Contrarily, there are a great many shows that are universally accepted to have persevered on long after they should have ended, or to have taken a total dive into a hole they couldn't get back out of.

That's just the nature of longform storytelling - it's ludicrously hard to wrap up in a satisfying way, it's much too easy to keep adding more bricks instead.

We're not done yet, of course, and no matter what I'm sure there are people who will come away feeling that this season was a disappointing ending to the series because it didn't do X or it did Y (and some of that will be totally justified, some of that will be subjective, and some of that is again just the inevitable cost of trying to end a long and complicated story).

But I'm really, really grateful and relieved that we've had some very kind and enthusiastic feedback on S3 so far, and I feel incredibly proud of us and our cast for some of this season's episodes and performances which I think do arguably count amongst our best work.

That feels like a very rare and a very fortunate place to get to end things on, and I wouldn't ever want to risk spoiling that by continuing to over-extend ourselves.

(And equally, I'm just excited to have the chance to make something else next!)

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stagefoureddiediaz · 9 hours

Text

Thinking thoughts about Abuela being back and with this backstory about her being taken in by charlatans and Eddies whole catholic guilt thing and how the two things kind of play into one another as an exploration of faith and being taken in by something.

Abuela giving all her money to the tarot card readers etc because she was searching for something - for connection (with Abuelo) - trying to recapture what she had lost, and How Eddie has spoken about trying to re-find the magic he had with Shannon - how Eddie hasn't actually fully reconciled the Shannon of it all when it comes to relationships and how his Catholic guilt connects into that.

How Marisol as a physical representation of Catholicism is part of that narrative - how Eddie is entering a place where he has to chose his path - in order to move on from Shannon he needs to fully square the hole - catholic or non catholic. And how that needs to happen first - before he can begin his queer journey!

#this is so incoherant #I'm also thinking about how Marisol fits into this narrative and how this idea of being taken in or fooled by a person plays into what we #know of her - how she wasn't upfront with Eddie (not saying she had to be right from the off but before moving in!!!) - how she is kind of #representative of secrets - especially around faith and ones connection with faith because she is essentially a stand in for catholicism #which (sorry to all the catholics out there) peddles in magic and secrets in order to keep the mystery of faith alive and therefore keep #people believing. How Eddie's reckoning with himself and the ghost of Shannon ultimately means choosing either to follow the path of #catholicism or non catholicism #How Marisol is a tie to religion and therefore his reasons for not having successful relationships after her (or even with her) and how #Eddie letting go will ultimately mean letting go of Marisol - how he can never fully move forward while catholicism still lingers #how I don't' think we'll be seeing the queer aspect of this narrative this season - that dealing with this first part is key and only once #he has figured it out can he then be free to know himself - is true self better - and accept and move into his full self as a queer man #so yeah - catholic guilt arc 7b and 8a - as its really a two parter - finally dealing with the remnants of Shannon - and its connection wit #his faith and then when truly free of that exploring his queerness!#So yeah - Marisol will possibly be here until towards the end of the season because she is meant to be the trigger point for Eddie in #relation to Shannon - its why they made the difference (and similarities) between S and M very obvious in 7x01 #they have the time to build this story arc more fully now with the s8 renewal - to do it justice and unfortunately as part of that it means #she'll probably be around longer than any of us would like!#I don't know if I even make sense at this point #but I do want to reitterate that the show is goig out of its way to contrast her with Buck as well #to really show how close and right for each other Buck and Eddie are so no one needs to panic - she's here for the narrative not forever!#911 abc #911 spoilers #eddie diaz

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 days

Text

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fifteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 6.5K (I got carried away again)

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Crying, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

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

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

**************************************

Present Day *Reader POV*

The shopping bags that hung from your arms would have been heavy for the average person, but for you it seemed like a bag full of pillows. It was the day after you saw Rosemary and said goodbye. Despite the almost excruciating hangover you had this morning, because it'd been almost forty years since you last had a drink, you dragged yourself to the mall to try and find outfits for your trip to Russia. You were satisfied with the few outfits you found, but you were worried because the plane left in a few hours and you were no where near ready.

Mentally or physically.

As much as you wanted to go help Ben, you still were apprehensive about the whole situation, not just about going in blind, but wondering what the hell you were going to do when you saw Ben. You wanted to hold on to your anger, but you were afraid that the moment you looked into his green eyes you would forgive him.

I am not going to forgive him. I'm going to break him out then tell him to fuck off and I never have to see him ever again.

Despite your apprehension, you knew that you had to do this, that you had to go help him even if you still hated him because you couldn't bear the thought of the boy you grew up with being tortured over there all alone. It was the alone part that hurt the most. You knew how much Ben hated being alone. He never had to say it out loud, but all the time you'd spent together in your bedroom before and after the injection spoke volumes.

Of course you still had no idea where you were going, but figured that if you went to the Kremlin you could get some answers, which meant you'd either have to lie your way in or just kill anyone in your path. Which would be messy, but necessary. You try to shake off the guilt of exposing yourself again and what that could mean for Rosemary and Lou. You made sure that Rosemary knew to pack a bag for herself and for Lou and told her to wait for your call.

You wanted to be there to escort them out of the city, didn't want to split up and have them get snagged while you were waiting for them at the rendezvous point, so you told Rosemary to take a few days off and lay low.

When you get to the outside door of your apartment building toting the bags, you notice that it's been broken, as if someone tried to pull it off its hinges.

Well that's great. Hopefully the building manager noticed that.

Your mind drifts back to Ben as you step into the elevator.

What if he isn't alive when I get there? It was an unwelcome thought, but it meant that you wouldn't have to talk to him.

Maybe if I knock him out when I get there and just leave him in a Russian motel somewhere, I won't have to talk to him. You pause. Will he want to talk to me?

The memory of the last time you spoke flashes through your mind bringing an unmeasurable amount of rage and heartbreak back over your body. The dam you built to keep out everything that happened was reaching capacity, especially given the recent events with Countess, and you knew that the moment you saw Ben it was going to burst open. You hoped that you'd be able to keep it together long enough to get out of the lab or wherever the hell he was being held, before you lost it. But it was doubtful.

As you walk down the hallway to you apartment, you notice that your front door is open and you stop walking. Apprehension spikes at the back of your mind as you examine the door. The lock is broken and door is cracked just enough for you to hear people talking inside in hushed tones. You creep forward and look through the crack.

You've got to be kidding me. You groan to yourself noticing Butcher and Hughie standing in your living room.

Great. Just what I need. Right when I'm going to leave they show up. Guess that explains the mystery of the broken door downstairs.

You think about walking away, of going back down the elevator and hoping that by the time you come back they would be gone, but you knew you had to face them and you still had to pack. So you push open the front door of your apartment and step into the room.

"You know when I called saying that I had something else to say about Soldier Boy, I assumed you would call, not break into my apartment." You sigh before moving to the right side of the counter that divides the room between the living room and the kitchen and depositing the shopping bags on the stainless steel top.

"Maybe you shouldn’t leave your apartment unlocked poppet. Anyone could walk in." Butcher replies with a grin.

"Hmm. Sure. You guys here for more coffee?"

"Go shopping did you?" Butcher ignores your snark eyeing the bags.

"Yeah I needed a few new outfits for my art show next month." The lie is easy, but you know that the sudden appearance of the two of them probably meant you were caught red handed. Of course now with everything that happened with Countess, you didn't care anymore if Butcher and Hughie knew who you really were. "You doing okay there Hughie?" You raise an eyebrow as you notice how his heartbeat has spiked since you entered the apartment.

"Good." He says, but he looks uneasy.

Well, guess he's afraid of me now.

"Huh. And here I thought you were replacing your jacket." Butcher throws your ruined jacket onto the floor between you.

You look from the jacket to Butcher. You hadn't bought a replacement and hadn't wanted to throw it out. You were still hoping that the scorch marks looked like you had "distressed" it. It didn't and you knew that, but you loved that coat so much.

"See, I think it’s a big coincidence that Countess got right fucked after we came and talked to you." Butcher smiles.

"Probably the same coincidence as Gunpowder dying before you showed up here the first time." You breeze with a tight-lipped smile.

Where was he going with this? Was he here to kill me? You think about what Legend said about Butcher killing supes.

"That looks bad." Butcher gestures to the jacket. "You have a little spat with your good friend?”

"Let's just say she said a few things that upset me." Your eyes skate from Butcher to Hughie sizing them up. "If you're here to kill me, you're welcome to try. Oh sorry, 'arrest me'." You make air quotes around the words. "But we both know you're not government agents, you reek of Compound V and the last time I checked there was that whole, no supes in the government thing."

"Wouldn't it have been easier to get this out of the way the first time?" Hughie asks.

"I didn't want to be involved." You shrug your shoulders.

"Then why you'd buy a plane ticket to Russia?" Butcher takes a step towards you, but you hold your ground.

You weren't afraid of him.

"I hear it's nice this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold. Very pleasant." You snap back at him eyes narrowed, before you look down at the antique watch on your wrist. "Look I'd love to have a heart to heart, but I just don't have time to do this little dance with you. So we can either get to the part where you try to kill me or-" You raise your gaze from the watch to glare back at Butcher, but then your eyes focus on the hallway behind him and your heart stops.

Ben is standing there in the shadows looking at you the same way he always has, with those wonderful piercing green eyes that makes all other memories of them be put to shame. He's dressed in modern clothes, wearing a dark green shirt that hugs his perfect muscular chest and is the same color of his suit, your favorite color and the one you can never look at without thinking of him because damn it, it's also the color of his eyes. He looks the same, but different. His hair is longer and darker than it was the last time you saw him and his cheeks are covered by a trimmed but thick beard. It was unusual given that you'd never seen him with more than just a little bit of stubble and annoying because it makes him look even more ruggedly handsome, but despite the piercing way his eyes follow you, you can see a haunting memory of the last forty years.

You're upset that the one of the first thoughts you'd had beside staring at him open mouthed is that you wished you were wearing something more flattering than one of your pairs of paint splattered overalls over an old band t-shirt. You were going to Russia to get him and yes maybe you were shopping for things that you could move in, but you had picked out a particular revenge outfit that you believed would make Ben regret everything he did to you and also might have been paired with a particularly badass set of boots that made your legs look very long. The outfit that made you feel beautiful and sexy was unlike the one you were wearing at the moment. Also because you hadn't brushed your hair today and had just stuck it up in a messy bun at the back of your head.

You're struck with the urge to run to him and kill him at the same time, but you can't move and you can’t think.

Apart of you believed that you would find him dead in Russia, a sad thought but it meant that you wouldn't have to relive everything all over again. Everything that went to shit the last 24 hours you spent together that you relived with Countess the other day and now you were reliving when you looked at him standing there looking better than he should.

Because damn it, only Ben could be tortured in a lab for the past 40 years and walk away looking like a GQ model. I've never hated anyone more.

"Ben?" Your voice is no more than a hoarse whisper.

Ben pushes past Hughie and Butcher, taking careful steps towards you like he doesn't want to scare you away. "Y/n." The sound of your name on his lips fills you with an inescapable amount of warmth.

Traitor. You think to yourself at your body’s reaction.

He's standing so close to you now that you can smell the same shampoo and aftershave he always used and it brings back memories of the nights he spent in your bed with you laughing and talking like nothing had changed making you feel alive again for the first time in forty years. Before everything went into the blender set to puree.

Ben's eyes trace your body like he can't believe you're standing in front of him making you wish again that you're wearing the outfit you picked out so that you could look as good as he does. And just as he raises his hand towards your face you remember why you hated him, remember that night, remember what Countess said that caused her to lose her head.

Your hand flashes out so quick you don't think Ben notices it until it lands with a resounding slap against his cheek that sends him reeling back from you. Your strengths were similar, almost identical, and if he hadn't been invulnerable it would have ripped his perfect jaw from his face.

"What the fuck was that for?" Ben snaps, green eyes blazing as he looks back at you.

"You've got some nerve coming back here after all these years." You spit, the anger rising in your chest with wings of fury that beat against your ribcage. "Did you really think that you could just say my name again and make me forget everything that happened Benjamin? I am not one of those trashy women that you used to fuck and the fact that you think you can show up here, give me the fucking puppy dog eyes, and think that I’ll swoon, is ridiculous!”

There goes the dam.

Your gaze levels on Hughie and Butcher who look just as stunned. "And you two. Why did you bring him here? I didn’t want any part of this!”

"Why did you pretend to be dead!" Hughie shouts back.

"Did you think that maybe that was me trying to tell you that I didn't want to be involved? Or are you two just that fucking stupid?"

"Why did you buy a plane ticket then?" Butcher asks again, raising an eyebrow.

Ben is watching you with anger burning in his eyes. It's difficult for you to look at him. Every time you do you think about your last night together, the morning after when he pushed you away, and finally the night where he ripped out your heart and stomped all over it.

How did I ever think I could look at him again when I got him out of Russia?

"Because even though I hate him. He doesn't deserve that. The Ben I knew would have come to get me, and I wasn't going to leave him to rot in some fucking Russian prison." You snap back. "Now get out of my apartment."

"Sweetheart-" Ben begins to say.

"No. No. No. I don't want to hear it from you. Nothing you can say can make this better. I’m glad you’re free or whatever, but go. Get out." You push past him, but Ben's hand flashes out and grabs your wrist with enough force that you feel the bruising of your skin.

"No." He towers over you.

"Let. Me. Go." Your eyes narrow shifting to bright purple. The entire room begins to tremble, the glass windows shake in their panes and the glass jars full of paint brushes on your studio table begin to clink against one another. But he doesn't remove his hand.

"Not until you listen." Ben's own green eyes have hardened into a emerald.

You latch onto the wrist that is holding you and break his grip, before spinning and throwing him backward across the room away from you. Ben's body flies past Hughie and Butcher who watch with wide eyes as he hits the back of the couch and pinwheels over it with a loud thud as he lands on the cushions. You would have rather thrown him into the brick living room wall, but you restrained yourself.

"I don't want to hear anything you have to say Benjamin. You said enough that night and apparently you were saying lots of things to Countess about me. So get out." Your eyes skate across Butcher and Hughie. "All of you."

Hughie is still watching you with wide eyes, like he can't believe that just happened.

Join the club kid.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ben shouts, standing from the couch and straightening his clothes. You don't need to be a psychic to know how angry he is. In fact, you're surprised he's not throwing you out the window or at least throwing a punch. Ben didn't tolerate it when anyone put him in his place and it definitely looks like it's taking him an extreme amount of effort not to attack you, given the way his hands are clenched into fists and the way his jaw is tensed so tightly you can see the muscle flexing.

"She told me what you said about me. That you threw me a pity fuck because you felt sorry for me, that you were bored when we had sex because I was so inexperienced."

"It's not true."

"Isn’t it?" You're trying desperately not to cry, but the angry tears have already begun to well up in your eyes. "The last thing you sad to me was that I was pathetic and that you never would love me, never could love me. That you fucked me because you felt bad for me and you wished I would just fuck off. That I was just another warm pussy and that I meant nothing to you. So forgive me for not believing you."

"Oh shit." Butcher mutters under his breath.

"Damn." Hughie echoes.

"I know what I said to you, Y/n. I've spent the past 40 years regretting it-" Ben begins to say, but you interrupt him.

"Oh I'm so sure. The Great Soldier Boy actually has a conscience, let me just alert the media." You spit back. "Oh wait, sorry you wouldn't want that getting out would you Ben? Because that would mean you aren't a man."

"Y/n-" He growls.

"You don't get to come in here and apologize and act like you did nothing wrong. You're not here because you feel sorry, you're here because you want me to dote on you, to follow you around and give a shit like I did for 40 fucking years.”

“Y/n-“

"Stop saying my name like that!" You shout and the glass sugar dish on the counter flies off the counter and smashes into the floor sending shards of glass everywhere.

Hughie flinches.

"Like what?" Ben exclaims.

"Like you care." You cross your arms over your chest staring him down because you don't want to keep crying.

"I do fucking care about you-" Ben snaps running his hand through his dark hair frustrated.

"No you don't. You never did. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

"Yes I do."

"Please stop talking."

"What else do you want me to say?" Ben shouts back, moving towards you. "I'm trying to fucking apologize-"

"I don't want you to say anything and I don't want to hear your half-assed apology! I want you to leave. You and your creepy friends." You gesture back to where Hughie and Butcher are watching with open mouths, who are unsure if they should leave or watch the show.

"They're not my friends."

"And neither am I! Which means I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say!”

"Y/n please-" His teeth are gritted together.

“I'm not some fangirl Ben. I was your friend, your friend before any of this. Before any of this fucking supe shit. I cared about you. I had been in love with you since I was 8. I had taken care of you since the night we met." More tears squeeze down your cheeks as a lifetime of happy memories before everything went down the drain wash over you. The wonderful times you'd shared together at the park, in your bedroom back in Philadelphia, dancing in the dancehall, at baseball games and Ben walking you home all the while you wobbled down the street drunkenly and sang off key. All the blissful little moments that you thought maybe he felt the same way about you and then followed by the moments you spent together the night of your birthday, when you felt more special and loved than you'd ever had. It makes the knife he stuck in your back even sharper.

"That night we spent together meant everything to me. I thought it was special and I thought you loved me. But you don't. You just fucked me because you were bored and you found the first person who said yes.” Your body turns away, but he grabs you by the shoulders to make you look at him.

"I do love you damnit!" He shouts. "I didn't want to-" Ben's jaw clenches in frustration, looking back at Butcher and Hughie. "Can you two just fuck off?"

"I wish you all would." You say, trying to loosen his grip on your shoulders, but he doesn't let go. You think about throwing him across the room again, because it made you feel a lot better.

"Fine. We'll be outside." Butcher says tugging Hughie away.

"Are you sure?" Hughie asks looking from you to Ben as if he's worried to leave the two of you alone.

"You want to be here? Because they're either going to kill each other or start fucking." Butcher responds.

"We are not going to start-" You begin, but they're already out the front door of your apartment leaving you alone with Ben, who is still holding on to your shoulders.

"Please listen to me." Ben says looking deep into your eyes. "When you said that you loved me it-" He stops looking for the right word as if he can't say the next ones that come out of his mouth. "Oh fuck it, it fucking scared me. Okay? It scared me, Y/n, and damnit I'm not a pussy! I'm not afraid of anything!"

“Oh no you could never be a pussy could you? Soldier Boy could never admit that he had real feelings for someone.” Your voice wobbles, tears trailing down your cheeks as you poke him in the chest to emphasize every word. “And now you’re just saying what I want to hear, because you want to have another quick fuck!” You push your hands against his chest trying to push him off of you, but he won't let go. "You're just saying it because its been forty years since you had sex and you thought, huh might as well find the most pathetic person I know, Y/n won't say no if I pretend to be everything she wanted again."

He doesn't mean it. He doesn't love me.

"I’m not lying to you! And I’m not pretending! I wasn't pretending that night either!” Ben roars so loudly you flinch. “That night I felt things with you that I had never felt with anyone else. It wasn't cheap sex or a quick fuck-" His jaw tightens as if he's embarrassed to admit it. "Damn it.” His teeth are gritted together. “We made love. I understood that when I woke up the next morning and I was happy to be there with you. I knew that I loved you and I wanted to tell you, but I fucked it all up instead. I fucked Countess because I was scared of what loving you meant. But I’m ready now, I’m not scared anymore. I love you!”

He's saying everything you always wanted him to, but you're scared. Scared that he's just saying it, that he thinks it's what you want to hear and this is the only way that he can get you back into his life because he needs someone to follow him around, because he can't be alone.

You stand there for a minute taking in his stance. His head is slightly bowed in shame, shoulders tight, body leaning towards you. But then you catch his eye, you see the sorrow, frustration, and pain in his gaze. Ben was not big on sharing feelings and for him to admit all of these things aloud was shocking enough without the obvious emotions flashing in his eyes. It was so different than the stoic or pissed off attitude he usually had when he was Soldier Boy. The look in his eyes is so earnest and Ben has never been a good liar, not to you anyway. You always knew what he was thinking.

If I forgive him then what does that mean? I forget the past 40 years like they never happened? I forget all the tears when he broke my heart? Forget how broken I was? How broken I still am?

You think of all the times you missed him, all the times you forgot about what he said to you and remembered the good, all the times you wanted him there with you and Rosemary because you knew he would love to be there. All the early memories together, all the missions, everything that lead up to the falling out and Ben’s supposed death. Ben's admission of guilt and his confession of love for you was shocking. Especially because the Ben you knew 40 years ago would have rather dropped dead than say the words "make love."

No. I won't give in. I can't do this, I can't do this all over again. I was better, I was moving on, he doesn't have the right to come here and mess up my life all over again.

"No." You shout, shoving him away with all your strength. Ben stumbles backward, his eyes wide as if he wasn't expecting you to push him away, because of course he wasn't. “You don’t know anything about love. You’re just saying that because you know it’s what I want to hear, what I’ve always wanted you to say to me.”

He still doesn't understand how much he hurt me. And he doesn't deserve my forgiveness.

“I’m not just saying that, it’s true. Please y/n-“

"I don't believe you. And when I said I never wanted to see you ever again I wasn't lying. So get out Ben!" You shout.

"No. I love you and I'm not leaving." Ben says back determined.

You weren't prepared for what those words did to you. You weren't prepared for the floodgate of emotions that exploded the moment those words passed through his lips or the way it felt like you were being tugged in two different directions. Because despite wanting to throw him across the room again, those three little words made you want to run into his arms and hold him close, made you want him to take you to bed and make you forget all the shitty things that happened forty years ago, make it like he never left.

But you couldn't do it. As much as you wanted to forgive him, you couldn't because you didn't trust him anymore, you didn't trust that he could give you what you wanted.

“Too bad! I won’t do this to myself again. All I did was care about you, help you. I stood by you and made excuses for the person you became and I held on to this picture of the boy you used to be. The one I fell in love with. The one that used to climb in my window when things were hard. The one that took me to my first baseball game. The one who danced with me. The one that made me feel like less of a freak because he understood me. And the one that begged me to leave Howard and everything I knew and come with him. That night we were together I saw that boy again. I loved that boy. I would have done anything for him and I did. But he’s not here anymore. And I hate myself for holding on to him as long as I did.”

"But I told you I loved you!" Ben exclaims.

“Just saying that isn’t enough, not after everything that happened!” You shout. "You're forty years too late Benjamin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m exhausted and I’m going to go to bed. And I don’t want you to be here when I wake up.”

"Y/n please-" You hate how he sounds when he says it, like he's broken, because Ben has never once sounded that way in all the years you'd known him. You hate how he looks. How his dark hair is falling forward into his face and he looks so much like the boy you used to love that it makes you want to scream, because you wanted to believe that he was gone, but all you see when you look up at him is that boy. There is not one shred of Soldier Boy in the way he looks right now and you hate that. You hate that you wanted to forgive him, that all it took was him looking like at you like that. But you still can't do it.

"Just go." Your throat thickening as you say it, fresh tears trailing down your cheeks. "I don't want you here. I never want you to come here ever. I never want to see you again.” You lie pushing past him and walk down the dark hallway, slamming and locking your bedroom door behind you. Your body sinks to the floor as you pull your knees up into your chest, sobs shaking your body and tears pour from your eyes.

How many tears can I spend on one man? How do I still have any left after all these years? How could I have been stupid to think that I was over him? That I could just go to Russia, break him out, and then push him out of my life so easily? None of what just happened was easy.

Your face presses into your knees. You want to call Rosemary, call her and tell her what happened, but your phone is still on the counter and you couldn't go back out there, because you knew he was still there. Standing in your living room looking too perfect after all these years and saying all the things you always wanted him to and you don’t want to go out there and forgive him.

So you stay. Your back pressed against the door, crying into your knees and hoping that this will just all end.

Because it’s got to one day right?

***************************************************

*Soldier Boy POV*

He hadn't meant to reach for you, but all he wanted was to feel the gentle swell of your cheek beneath the palm of his hand, the smoothness of your skin against his rough fingertips, and to memorize the planes of your face with his touch. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. Your curves perfectly accentuated by a pair of cute paint splattered overalls that made him smile, and your hair pulled away from your face in a messy bun but still made you look effortless and striking. When he saw you standing there, it was like taking a punch to the gut. He knew that he missed you, but seeing you there warm and alive made him want to crush you against his chest and never let you go ever again.

He had laid himself bare before you, allowing himself to push through the urge to shove all his emotions back beneath the surface as his father taught him, and spoke, instead, the words he wished that he had said all those years ago.

Ben's shoulders tense when he thinks of what you shouted back at him, how broken you looked. His heart falls into the pit of his stomach when he remembers the tears in your eyes. Ben hated it when you cried. He also hated that the first time he saw you in forty years he made you cry, again.

He didn't know how to fix this. Ben thought that his apology would be enough to make you at least try to forgive him, but it hadn't. You had shoved him away from you, refused to let him touch you or comfort you-

Why is she so damn stubborn? I apologized! I told her that I loved her! Isn’t that what she wanted?

He grits his teeth together thinking about how you threw him across the room like he weighed nothing. If anyone else had done that to him, Ben would have killed them, but he knew that he deserved it. He knew you would be mad, but he thought that you would at least want to hear everything he had to say instead of cursing him out and slamming the door in his face.

When you slammed your door behind you, he had stood outside of it for an hour listening to you cry, heard your soft muffled sobs. At one point he leaned his head against the door and wished you would let him in so he could hold you while you cried, even though the thought made him feel like a pussy. He wanted to comfort you. He wished you had forgiven him, allowed him to take you to bed, allowed him to show you how sorry he was and how much he loved you. He wished that you let him help you forget the last shitty forty years that you spent without him, forget what he said and what he did to you that night.

The harsh words you yelled at him make him flinch, when you told him that you didn't want him there and never wanted him to come back. They were the words that he always feared you would say to him when he climbed in through your window at night or when he showed up at your apartment when you were still on Payback. And hearing you say those words felt worse than anything those Russian fucks did to him. Because Ben didn't know where he belonged if he wasn't with you, he didn't know what to do if you weren't in his life, you were the only thing that mattered.

How could I fuck this up this much?

Ben looks back at the clock on the wall in the kitchen which shows he'd been there for three hours waiting for you to come out of your room, but you hadn't. He knew it was because you fell asleep, he could hear your heart beat, your soft breath against the pillows, and the almost silent sounds you made when you slept. They were exactly the same as when he would fall asleep next to you and damn it he didn't realize how much he missed them until this exact moment.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How do I fucking fix this?

Ben stands from the couch and walks down the hallway for the millionth time to stand outside your door preparing to knock, but he didn't know what to say. He thought that he'd said enough, but judging by your reaction he hadn't.

The thought of saying anything else was difficult for him to swallow. It was hard enough to say what he had to you, but he was realizing he was going to have to delve even deeper to make you even look at him again or want to be around him.

Finally he goes to the front door of your apartment before he looks back down the hallway. He didn't want to leave, didn't want you to wake up and him not be there despite what you said about wanting him to leave. He wanted you to understand that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was never going to leave you ever again no matter how hard you tried to push him away. But he needed to leave now, not for long, just long enough for him to get what he needed.

He had seen the florist shop on the corner when Butcher drove up. As Ben walked down the street in the direction of the florist he remembered the conversation he had with Butcher after you slammed your door in his face. Convincing Butcher to let him remain in the apartment was difficult, but finally when Ben threatened to rip Hughie in half, Butcher relented stating that he would give Ben one night with you before he came back. That was the deal anyway, Ben had lied, because like hell he was going to leave now that he'd found you again.

Ben wasn't planning on leaving and even if you couldn't stand to look at him, Ben would not go. Even if it meant sleeping on that shitty couch every night.

He would never leave you again.

The smell of the flowers wafted out of the small shop when Ben opens the door, his eyes skating across the numerous bouquets, each one more extravagant than the last. Other women would swoon over them, but not you. His eyes fall first on roses, but he turns away. He knew that you didn’t like roses, although many believed them to be classic, Ben knew that you thought over the years that roses had become generic and overused. He of course had sent some to numerous women over the years, but he liked that you were different. He always liked that about you. He rolls his eyes when he remembered when Howard bought you some every week.

Because of course that asshole didn’t know what y/n liked. No one knows her as well as me.

The man behind the counter eyes him when he walks in. "Can I help you find something sir?"

"No." Ben says gruffy looking at the displays again, but then he sighs. "Do you have any lavender?"

"Lavender?"

"Yeah." Ben knew it was the only thing that you would accept, knew that it was your favorite because it reminded you of the house your family rented over the summers up North. Ben hated those summers. He'd break into your bedroom and sleep in your bed while thinking of you and reading the letters you sent him over and over again, the ones that you pressed fresh lavender into and the ones that made him realize just how much he needed you.

Those of course weren’t the only letters you ever sent him. When he went to boarding school he’d wait for you to send him a letter and one of your doodles or a small painting. He kept every one in a cigar box under his bed. It was why he was kicked out of boarding school number nine, a fight he had with another student began because the student had found the box and then proceeded to mock Ben endlessly by passing around the letters you sent him. Ben had never told you what the fight was about.

Ben stops as he realizes how he’s going to get you to listen to him.

“Here you are sir.” The florist reappears at the counter holding a large vase of freshly cut lavender.

“Do you have a phone I can borrow?” Ben asks.

“Sure.”

The object the man hands him is not a phone, well not a phone that Ben’s ever seen before.

“I said a phone-“

“That is a phone?” The man looks confused.

“How do I fucking call someone with this?” Ben sighs shaking the black rectangle in his hand and looking for the buttons.

The man takes the object and swipes his fingers across it before handing it back to him so Ben can see the numbers to dial. “Just push what you want and hit the green button.” The man says, looking at Ben like he's crazy.

“Oh. Thanks.” He mutters, before dialing the number and holding the phone up to his ear.

Legend answers on the first ring.

“Hey it’s me. Do you still have all my old shit from my apartment?”

“Somewhere.”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

******************************************

N/A: Why not end on a cliffhanger? This chapter is a bit longer, because this week is CRAZY for me and I'm not sure when I'll be able to write the next chapter. But I'm not giving up on these two. They deserve the world.

Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think. If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126 @simplyfixated @sleepjam @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna @abramswife @xxannyxx @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit

#soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #the boys #jensen ackles #soldier boy fic #billy butcher #the boys amazon #hughie campbell #the boys fanfic #jackles #the boys season 3 #the boys series #the boys tv #the boys s3

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sexhaver · 13 hours

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my two favorite things about cooking in ESO are how

every ingredient is harvested from its own correspondingly named container that will only ever contain that ingredient (i.e. melon baskets have melons, apple baskets have apples, etc). which is already kind of funny but then you realize you can find these named containers already empty, even though they all look identical when empty. like your character walks up to a random empty basket and can immediately tell that that's the Designated Apple Basket

there is an ingredient named "Seasoning" and just. im sorry i can't possibly write a joke about "this is how white people think spices work" that's funnier than the way it's implemented

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flight0fthenavigat0r · 2 days

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A Goodbye to The Bad Batch

I don’t even know what to say first. Because this is goodbye, but it is also everything but. But I suppose I should start at the beginning.

Just a couple of years ago I found my love for Star Wars. My entire life, as far back as I can remember, my dad has tried to get me into the fandom. Now, he’s not a fan the exact same way some of us are, he’d only watched the saga and the Mandalorian, funnily enough I was the one to introduce him to The Clone Wars and beyond, but it’s been a joy in his life for a very long time. I was never interested in it when I was little, but then I got a little older and Star Wars started to capture my interest.

One random weekend, I believe in 2021 or 2022, I decided that I was going to watch all nine saga movies in those forty-eight hours, and then start on my goal to watch every show and the additional movies.

This is, without a shred of doubt, one of the greatest decisions I have ever made, and one that I will never regret. I would not be the person I am had I not given Star Wars a chance.

It would sound ridiculous to anyone anywhere else, but this has become such a safe place for me that I know I can be honest.

Everyone finds that one thing that makes them happy like nothing else. A person, a hobby, a place, a fandom. Mine is the galaxy far, far away that lets me escape from my life whenever I need to.

The Star Wars fandom has its faults, and there is so much hatred.

But more than anything, there is love like no love I have ever experienced before. The love between fans and our love for these movies and shows is something I never expected to have in my life. But somehow, for some reason, it has all found a permanent place in my heart, and I couldn’t be happier.

At this time, the first season of The Bad Batch had just been released. I was branching out, watching The Clone Wars and then jumping to The Book of Boba Fett, though I’m not sure why I chose to watch everything in such a completely random order.

But then I started The Bad Batch.

I had no idea what Crosshair, Tech, Wrecker, Hunter, Echo, and Omega would come to mean to me.

I have dealt with a lot in the last few years. Nothing compared to others, but depression finds a way to wedge into your life. I love to be alone, but I don’t like to be lonely, and I have managed to isolate myself to a point of misery.

I found more comfort in The Bad Batch than anything else in my life, and I will never forget the joy The Bad Batch brought me in these last few years.

I began to write when I found Star Wars, and I was inspired to do so by The Bad Batch. Before, I had never felt so compelled by any one piece of media to add my own part of it to the world, until this. Writing has become another escape, one that gives me an outlet to continue the stories of characters left behind.

What I already knew has been reaffirmed, the lessons I have learned remain with me, and will even after this is over.

That it’s okay to feel afraid, because everyone does, and to make mistakes, provided you learn from them.

That feeling out of place for one reason or another does not make you unworthy of love, and having limitations with affection isn’t something you need to apologize for.

That being goofy, having fun, finding joy in the dark places, is just as vital a part of life as anything else, if not what we need more than anything.

That taking time for yourself, to make sure you don’t fall apart, even while taking care of others, is important.

That our worst moments can be one of two things, what consumes us, or what we grow from.

That being a young woman is not a detriment to your worth, intelligence, talent, or any other aspect of life, but is in fact what makes you strongest.

That what makes us unique and our faults are a part of who we are, but they do not define us, and we are so much more than the ideas people have of us.

My only regret is not making friends when I had the chance. I’m bad at that, opening up and putting myself out there, and I shy away from talking to new people because it makes me uncomfortable. But I wish I had been able to put that aside before it was too late and found people who love The Bad Batch the way I do to continue talking to, even after the show ends.

But to all the people who have supported me and who I have supported, thank you for being part of my Bad Batch experience.

It's very difficult to believe that this is it.

Though The Bad Batch has not been around long, it feels like it has, because as long as I have been watching Star Wars, The Bad Batch has been in its active run, and I’m so grateful I got to be here when it was.

I know that even when the credits roll for the final time, when the greater fandom forgets the show that they never really understood the way we have, I’ll be here, and hopefully, so will all of you. I think that the family brought together by The Bad Batch will endure, even if we go quiet for a while.

We’ll stick around, for the day the Batch comes back. Because I know they will.

Thank you Clone Force 99, the Bad Batch fandom, Dee Bradley Baker, Michelle Ang, the Kiners, and everybody who played a part in telling this story.

The impact The Bad Batch has had on my life has been profound, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything. It’s been a wild ride, and I have enjoyed every second of it. It has been a privilege to be a part of this piece in the ever growing history that makes up Star Wars.

Goodbye, Bad Batch. Until next time.

“Change takes getting used to. You’ll see. Just give it time.”

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theminecraftbee · 1 day

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How do you think Three would feel about season 10?

man so. okay the thing is that by season 10 things have probably butterfly effected so hard off of the beaten path that i have no idea if three would have much season 10 as they know it.

for example: season 10 starts with demise. would three... even have done demise? probably not in its early days of hermitcraft, right, like, that's a game grian would design but that i think three would be a little more hesitant to start up. a game about killing people in a fashion with Rules and Creativity is something three could thrive with, sure, and i like to imagine three takes inspiration from like, cleo's head games to come up with a version of demise it ends up enjoying, maybe? but like, even that element is hard to say WOULD happen.

if we go with "season 10's haunted water is an inherent element of the season", i could fully see three getting wrapped up in the fishing thing, because three is very stubborn and if it gives itself a mission of "fish up a mending book" it WILL do that. it would not try to start a cult about it or build a secret chamber but i think it would make like, a mending book spreadsheet or something equally deranged but in a less "big temple" way and in more of "three is the kind of person who made a family tree of sheep with jimmy" way.

i do think a difference between three and grian is that three just. doesn't strike me as particularly possessable. it wouldn't become obsessed with the ocean in the way grian did i think. i think it would like, fixate on the mending book, get it, go "that was stupid", and... i could SEE three liking fishing a lot actually, but less in a "getting possessed" way and more in a "it's a relatively low-simulation activity and also it gets to kill something" way, lol.

anyway i think a really interesting thing here is that three... would not do the permit office. like three Would Not Understand the bit of being purposefully unhelpful. even many years out from being three, the weapon, and instead being three, the person, i think three never QUITE stops finding it sort of inherently frustrating to intentionally do a task wrong. three tends more towards malicious compliance when it doesn't like doing something, but like, fully would love tedious paperwork. additionally, okay, maybe by season 10 three is a bit more likely to take charge fully, but i sort of suspect cub would end up the permit spearhead, not three. three would love the concept of the structure permits provide! three would not inherently like being the person in charge of the permits.

actually this gets into one of the more fundamental differences in personality between three and grian: grian likes being in charge of things but hates and avoids responsibility. three is a bit uncomfortable being in charge of things, but is perfectly comfortable with responsibility and will even take responsibility for things it technically doesn't have to. and at their CORE grian and three both have this supremely type-a thing going on but they express it in nearly opposite ways and i suspect this would be one of the main ways they'd clash, honestly.

but all of that is to say: three would not do the permit office bit, but WOULD like the permits. they provide a Structure to how shops work that three would appreciate and i think by season ten i could see three having gotten into the art of Ruthless Capitalism because it's sort of like killing people except instead you take their money. (three describes it this way back in season seven after etho takes it under his wing and etho wheezes and tells three to never let go of that. anyway.)

so that's just some of my thoughts on season ten with three this is a FUN QUESTION thank you!

#answered #solving counting sheep talk

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steveharrington · 2 days

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major hornets nest moment here but i must speak my truth. its so fascinating to me how will byers was clearly written with the driving motivation and intention of making him a beloved fan favorite character and instead he falls so flat that, if you asked the average casual viewer of the show who doesn't engage in the fandom like, say, your coworker, the odds of him even being in their top five of favorite characters is pretty low.

will's disappearance kicks off the plot, singlehandedly. the first episode is literally called the vanishing of will byers. his name is shouted so much in the first season that most people would recognize the reference if you used the right cadence and desperation that winona ryder does. after not being featured much in season one, you'd think season two would've just like launched will/noah schnapp into stardom with how much more screentime he's given and how dramatic his plot is that season. but instead the fan favorites of season 2 were by and large el, hopper, dustin, steve, max, even bob who's barely there. that's not to say that there AREN'T will fans out there (and online i understand there are like entire armies dedicated to him/byler, but i'm talking about the average opinion of viewers as a whole, not just in fandom spaces) but think about all the stranger things merch you see in stores, the halloween costumes, the characters that appear in promotional materials when the show has partnerships with brands....will is so rarely featured. idk if any of yall ever got the chance to visit the stranger things pop up shop in any of its various locations, but there was such little mention of will in the stores theming or merchandise that it was almost funny. actually it WAS funny, to me, someone who does not care for him

i think the flop can be attributed to many things. one, noah schnapp is just not a very good actor and he doesn't have the same appeal in his performances that millie, sadie, caleb, gaten, priah, or finn do (although finn i've noticed is also kinda falling out of favor from majority audiences). one could argue that noah schnapp intentionally isn't given much to do, which is true and i'll circle back to that, but the decline in his acting between seasons 2 and 3 is truly a sight to behold. when he's not like tied up and screaming, he reallllllly struggles on the smaller scale performances compared to the other cast members his age. he doesn't really have the charm that gaten does or the humor that priah does or the depth that caleb does. (i don’t feel bad about saying this, btw, given noah schnapp’s behavior)

back to the vanishing of will byer's screen time. my beloved prettymuchit's eric striffler commented on how diminished will and mike's roles in the story have become in s4. "noah schnapp is below the grips on the call sheet" is my fav line, but he also makes an observation on finn's role that i think is soooo accurate. when mike and will are kneeling down next to the pizza dough freezer and watching el just kinda twitch while she fights vecna in her mind, eric and his co-host miles say "this is so embarrassing! finn's like, 'oh so gaten's fighting the monster? and i'm kneeling next to a tub at a pizza place? i used to be this show" and i think the same exact sentiment can be superimposed onto will

but i think this happened naturally, as the nature of the show is to shift its focus from character to character. not to mention the duffer brothers' obsession with tweaking their story to give audiences what they want. i've always held the belief that there isn't one main character of stranger things, rather a rotating circle of characters depending on the season you're watching. season one is mike, season two is hopper, season three is el, season four is max imo. again that's a little subjective and arguments could be made to swap those a little, but overall i think those characters stories and point of views take center stage during each of their respective seasons. by season 3, the duffers wanted to kick things up to a larger scale. the UD is no longer targeting just will, it's targeting the entire town. this works because a THIRD season in a row where this one kid specifically gets possessed would just be bonkers, so they kinda had to let him take a backseat. i'm not sure why they didn't let will be more involved in the mystery-solving portion of season 3....to this day that decision baffles me, but what's done is done and the will that everyone watched in season 3 literally just kinda follows everyone around and gets a small little slice of a plotline about wanting things to go back to normal, but alas

it like totally worked, though. though there are MANY complaints commonly made about season 3, i've never heard anyone offline complain that there wasn't enough will byers. i think the group in s3 that had the most success like, commercially, would be scoops troop and then a bit farther back i think most audiences enjoyed hopper/joyce/murray's dynamic. i think if there had been a huge outcry in the minimizing of will's role, the duffers would've backpedaled immediately. they aim to please. they can't even commit to killing of a main character out of fear that audiences will lose interest if we permanently lose hopper or max, so they just do some creative writing that allows them to milk the emotional consequence of those characters deaths without actually writing them off. if audiences on a large scale demanded that will be center stage, he would be. but they dont!

final point: i think will gets fucked over by the duffers obsession with romance. in season one, two of will's strongest dynamics are with his mom and brother. which like, yeah. theyre his immediately family and he is 12. but in seasons 2 and 3, jonathan spent all his screen time with nancy and from 2-4, joyce has spent all her screen time either with hopper or in the pursuit of finding hopper. these characters are written together as a package deal, typically. it was refreshing and unexpected to see jonathan get a whole season with a friend of his very own and his siblings, but they barely took advantage of that. jonathan and will get ummmm one (1) scene to talk about their emotions in a fucking 20 hour season. it's hard for will to be a main character when he rarely gets to interact with the people that make up the other half of his main dynamics.

as for byler, im of the belief that it will not be endgame because i just don't think they're going to break up mike and el at this point. i could be completely wrong and stand corrected, but im like 90% sure lol. i do think that will's s4 storyline resonated with a lot of people. even eric striffler! i think the issue is that the vastttt majority of people who watch this show above the age of like 15 do not feel invested about the romantic relationships between any of the kids. because why would they!!! theyre literally in middle school for 3/4 of the show. you would be hard pressed to find a vocal will stan online who doesn't also dedicate 90% of their engagement with the show to byler. which makes sense, because most if not all of will's scenes revolve around mike to some degree. but according to neilsen, the majority of stranger things audience is consistently in the 18-49 age range season by season. its more likely for adult audiences to identify with adults (or characters who are narratively treated like adults, like steve and nancy) than with any of the kids. esp when the kid in question, despite being written as the focal point of the show, has less relevant plotlines, less interaction with other characters, and an actor who just doesn't deliver on charm the way his fellow younger costars do

#two ppl asked for it in the inbox so voila

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leighsartworks216 · 2 days

Text

I Was Hoping You'd Find Me Here

Harvey x gn!Farmer

Inspired by how Harvey goes from saying "I was hoping you wouldn't find me here" to "I was hoping you'd find me here" after marriage when you find him in the hedge maze. Y'all when I say I dropped everything out of nowhere, actual *hours* after getting that line, to write this, I mean it. Also not proofread bc as soon as I finished the sex-repulsion started rearing it's ugly head so if there're any typos lemme know lol

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

Warnings: smut, semi-public sex, hand jobs, blow job mention, anxiety, embarrassment, blood mention, praise kink, slight dom/sub

Word Count: 1,863

Masterlist

AO3

"I was hoping you'd find me here." Bright blush illuminated Harvey's face even in the shadow of the looming hedges.

The farmer smirked. "Oh, were you?"

They pressed closer into his space, until the leaves behind his back were catching on the fabric of his green jacket, rustling with the disturbance of his weight. He nearly leapt out of his skin when their fingers curled around his belt loops, pulling him closer.

In the shadows of the moonlight, smirking like a cat staring down its prey, he could almost imagine them being a vampire. He gulped thinking about their teeth on his neck, biting down until they drew blood. And the hot press of their tongue lapping it up.

"What are you thinking about, darling?"

Their eyes glimmered like they knew exactly what he'd just been picturing in his mind. He felt warmth reach the tips of his ears and travel down his neck. He wasn't a stranger to intimacy, but he was all too aware of their location, and Maru just around the corner.

His spouse granted him the mercy of not having to answer as they slotted their lips over his, nipping at his lower lip. It only reignited the thoughts from before. He groaned softly, cupping their cheek and leaning into the kiss. They tasted like the breakfast he cooked for them that morning with their produce. Their skin was dusted with a fine layer of dirt, no doubt from tending to the fields before the end of the season. His thumb began brushing it away without thought, his other hand sliding up their arm to cradle their neck.

He gasped, eyes shooting wide open as the buckle of his belt loosened. The smirk from before was now a soft grin, sweet like their fresh maple syrup. “Do you want me to stop?” they whispered.

Everything in his mind said yes. They were in public for Yoba’s sake! Everyone in town was here. There was no telling when somebody could enter the maze and stumble upon them. People who were his patients, who knew him professionally, and the very few who knew him more personally.

He glanced over their shoulder.

They were in the dark… And everybody who wanted to do the maze was already in here, lost somewhere out of earshot… His only concern was Maru, but even she wouldn’t come this way unless she had reason to.

The farmer waited patiently, listening to his frantic heart as he made up his mind. Their hands were still, ready to finish undoing his belt, or to help readjust it back in place. If he asked, they’d grab his hand and drag them back home, back to bed in a mess of sloppy kisses and whispered praises.

“Harv?”

He blinked. With another anxious swallow to tamp down his fears, he kissed them again softly. “I want this,” he muttered against their lips. “I-I’ll try to be quiet.”

They kissed him back sweetly. “Good boy.”

The pet name immediately sent chills down his spine, emboldened by his belt being fully undone and his trousers being unbuttoned. It wasn’t long before their hand pushed into his pants and wrapped around his hardening cock. He keened as quietly as he could manage into their mouth. They happily swallowed up the sound with another kiss.

Their thumb stroked over his slit, spreading the beads of precum already leaking from him. He felt a bit silly, truth be told, like a teenager who snuck out to see his partner in the dead of night, hiding under school bleachers to make out. It made him feel young again. He could almost imagine himself when he was younger, head still set on becoming a pilot despite everything going against him, with a paramour of his own, on a secret, late-night outing.

Though, his secret paramour being his spouse, who chose them despite every other eligible bachelor and bachelorette who pined for their affections, made this even better than in his fantasies.

They pulled away to kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Can you be quiet for me, baby?”

He nodded before his mind even fully comprehended the question.

Their kisses trailed further along his jaw, nipping just under his jaw where any marks wouldn’t be so easily seen. (If he were shorter, anyway.) They languidly pumped his cock in their fist as they loosened his tie next, fluidly unbuttoning the first and second buttons with nimble fingers and pushing his collar aside. Wet, open-mouthed kisses decorated his clavicle. Their tongue dipped in the hollow of his throat, before sucking over his Adam’s apple. When he swallowed, they grinned against it.

He bit his lip to remind himself to be quiet, breathing heavy through his nose as they unbuttoned a few of the middle buttons in his dress shirt and pressed their hand to his stomach, sliding around to his sides.

He shivered again. Their hands were calloused from farming for almost two years straight, rough and yet so gentle with him.

They squeezed the base of his dick before pumping around the head a few times. He whimpered, clamping a hand over his mouth to stop any further sounds from slipping out. If he could, he’d be fully leaned up against the hedge, using it for support as they worked him with as much ease as they ran the farm. Unfortunately, to do so would be to fall into the branches shrouded in the mess of dark leaves.

They kissed back up to his ear, nibbling the lobe, teasing the flesh with one of their canines. He sighed shakily as the thought of vampirism shot to the forefront of his mind again.

“Where do you want to cum, baby?” They whispered against the helix of his ear. “In my hand?” They accentuated the words by dragging their middle finger along the underside of his cock, along the thick, sensitive vein. “Or my mouth?” They sucked his lobe into their mouth, swirling their tongue along it.

They were so close, they could hear and feel the effect they had on him. His heart was racing so fast and loud in his chest, he would have worried it was sounding like a drum throughout the whole town, calling everyone to their location, had he the mind for it. Instead, all he could think about was images of kissing them like a madman as he finished in their hand. Or the feeling of their hair in his hand as they swallowed around his cock, milking him until he was utterly spent. For as much as he would have loved seeing them on their knees before him, looking up at him, highlighted only by the moon in this dark alley of the maze, he feared it would completely destroy his ability to be quiet. Already, he was fighting to stay hushed, when all they’d done is touch and kiss him.

He pulled his hand from his mouth, shaking as he decided his answer. “H-Hand,” he breathed. “P-Please, honey, let me cum.”

They pushed their face into his hand to move it out of the way without having to stop feeling the hair on his chest or trailing down his stomach, or the soft fat on his sides. “I will, darling.” They kissed him long and sweet, but his mouth chased for more and more, passionate and needy as he cupped both their cheeks and pulled them closer, closer, closer.

He moaned and whimpered against their lips as they jerked him off faster. The sounds rumbled low in his throat, like a beast within him was being drawn out with their ministrations. They coaxed his mouth open with their tongue, the bitter taste of coffee mixing with their sweetness. The concerns about being silent slipped his mind entirely as he fast approached his orgasm. They diligently muffled his beautiful sounds, their own mind flooded with love and adoration for the man they chose to marry. Their wonderful, nerdy doctor.

His breath caught in his throat sharply. His hips bucked mindlessly as his cock twitched in their hand. They covered his tip with their palm, stroking just under the head with their thumb as they caught the hot strands of cum. As his dick softened, he sighed shakily against their mouth.

They pulled away first, making sure they got as much of his spend as they could before pulling their hand from his pants. Their hand left his shirt to cup his cheek. He smiled when he felt them trying to fix his mustache.

“Good?”

He nodded. “Really good,” he assured them. A new wave of blood rushed to his cheeks as he noticed their hand, awkwardly held and covered in semen. He removed himself from their hold to fish around his pockets for a packet of tissues. He pulled a couple out of the plastic and cleaned their hand, wrapping the soiled tissues in another protective layer of tissue. When he looked back up at their face, tucking the packet back into his pocket, they had a big, dopey smile on their face. “What?”

They laughed. “You, that’s what. I just didn’t expect you to have tissues.”

“I’m a doctor,” he offered as an explanation with an embarrassed chuckle.

“You’re adorable.” He began rooting around his pockets again. “Hand sanitizer?”

He must’ve been as red as a ripe tomato when he pulled out the small bottle of sanitizer. But they just chuckled and held out their hands, diligently rubbing it between each finger and down their wrists. As they did, he began putting himself back together. He rebuttoned his shirt, tucking it back into his pants to give the illusion that nothing happened. Then he zipped, buttoned, and buckled his trousers once more. His spouse finished cleaning their hands just in time to fix his tie, pressing a kiss to his chin when they finished.

“Ah, thank you, for that, by the way,” he stammered.

They adjusted his collar and smiled warmly at him. “Of course. It was my pleasure.” They grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the alley. “If you wanna wait out there, it shouldn’t take me long to get the golden pumpkin.”

He tugged on their hand, pulling them to a stop just before the entrance of the maze. His heart began racing again as he tried not to regret what he was about to say. “C-Can I go with you?”

“Are you sure?”

He looked down the path, toward where Maru meandered about, trying to gather her sense of direction. It was lit well enough… He tried to ignore the grabby hands peeking around the corner.

The farmer squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to, Harvey. I know you don’t like scary things.”

“I…” He took a deep breath, looking at them once more. “I want to. You make me want to be brave.”

They beamed up at him, pressing a quick peck to his cheek. “Okay, if you say so. Don’t let go of my hand, right?”

He held on a bit tighter. “Right.”

Together, they marched into the haunted hedge maze.

…

Harvey stuck around with Abigail until the farmer came back with the prize.

#fanfic #fanfiction #smut #sdv harvey #sdv harvey x farmer #sdv harvey x reader #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley x farmer

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