#Meaning I can't think for him to say something or do something he just does what he wants

[specialgradefckr]

tw: explicit content, incest, satoru/reader, satoru/suguru, shoko/reader, codependency, very twisted relationship dynamics, implied abusive/neglectful childhood

suguru had never known what to make of the two of you.

satoru the six eyes and his twin sister. satoru who was his best friend, and you, the girl who looks just like him.

satoru who let suguru bend him over and fuck him until he cried, only to roll off the bed, pulling out his phone.

god. he knew satoru was a dick, but this?

it hurts more than it should. they'd never talked about it, never even called each other friends. he should have figured this wasn't anything special.

but what the fuck is satoru doing on his phone?

"satoru?" he says, trying to sound casual.

everything has to be casual with satoru. low-key. being with him feels like he's coaxing a wild animal. get too close, and he might just bolt.

bolt, only to hit him out of the blue days later with a picture of a candy and a smarmy comment about suguru's taste in food. or his hair. or his power as a sorcerer, or whatever was going through that malfunctioning brain of his.

god, why the fuck does he even like him again?

satoru turns back so suguru can see his smirking face.

god. that was why. the face of a fucking angel, a smile that made his heart skip. why did it have to be on this asshole?

"what, suguru? you feelin' lonely?" satoru drawls.

it's a question he knows the answer to. keep it chill. don't show your hand. don't get too close or he'll get scared.

it aches. "shut up," he says, "i'm just curious who you're texting right after i pulled my dick out of you."

he smirks back when satoru pauses, hesitates.

"who's this person you're thinking about right after you cum?" suguru drawls. he's proud of how distant he manages to sound.

satoru's eyes dart towards him, all ice blue and piercing.

"nobody," he says, setting his phone face down while he pulls on his pants.

he blinks. "what are you..."

satoru ignores his question, strolling out towards the door while waving goodbye. "later, su-gu-ru~"

"but this is -"

before his eyes can furrow, satoru closes the door behind him.

"...your room."

he'd thought that it meant something different this time. satoru always left right after they fucked, he never stayed.

but this is satoru's room. so he'd either kick suguru out, or let him stay.

he hadn't been prepared for him to just... leave. his own room.

what's wrong with him? seriously.

suguru glances at the downturned phone. flips it over.

nee-chan~ (2)

his sister? it beeps.

nee-chan~ (3)

no, don't. i'll ask shoko

you'll ask shoko to do what? satoru has a lock, so he can't see.

seriously, i mean it

after a moment, there's another message.

are you ignoring me, or just busy with him?

don't come over. slut

...what?

the message notification disappears along with the message.

suguru gets a strange feeling.

he looks around satoru's room. he finds some girl's clothes.

does satoru even like girls? they could be yours. he's seen you in his room before.

the strange feeling starts to get. stranger.

there's condoms in here, too, which is weird because satoru has never asked him to use them. or used them himself. he whined when suguru suggested it, actually. asked if he was scared of getting knocked up.

ugh. stupid, insufferable, endearing little shit. he wants to have him in his arms right now.

but it doesn't mater what suguru wants. satoru just left. like he always does, sooner or later.

picking up the phone, he makes his way out. down the hall, towards the girls' dorm.

shoko is already there when he gets there. holding out an arm to stop him.

he raises a brow.

"she's sleeping."

"how do you know i'm here for her?"

shoko shrugs. "why else would you be? saw gojo go in there. anyways, they're asleep now."

"can't be. i was with him just a few minutes ago."

the look she gives him is... strange. everything about this situation feels... off.

he pushes past her, and she sighs.

there's no noise inside, at least. he looses a curse to twist the lock on the door, turn it form the inside.

and it's surprising because - god, what was he expecting?

you're there, curled up beneath the blanket with satoru laying behind you, arms wrapped around you and holding you close.

it's romantic, sure. intimate.

but nothing weird. well, nothing too weird. satoru's always been weird, and you're just like him, so of course you're both weird together. you've always been close. you're his twin sister. what is he thinking?

with a toss, he lets satoru's phone fall onto the floor.

he avoids shoko's gaze as he closes the door and stalks off.

(he doesn't see her anxious glance at the door.)

"he's gone," satoru whispers to you, brushing his thumb over your nipple as you bite your lip.

"shut up," you hiss, putting a hand over his. "i can't believe you did that. why did he follow you? what did you say to him?"

his other hand, threaded beneath your panties, wriggles playfully.

"whaaat? you said you wanted to go to bed. i didn't want to make you wait." he sighs dramatically, "i'm the strongest sorcerer, you know. i need my rest~"

and without you, there is no rest.

as soon as your body is against his, it's like all the tension leaves him. you're there, with him, and everything is all right.

all his worries fade away when he can wrap his arms around you and feel you embrace him in return. mind blank at the soothing sound of your voice. never mind the words you're saying.

"yeah, but do you need to do... this." you say fruitlessly. "you could have come later."

"didn't wanna come later," he kisses your shoulder, "wanted to see you now."

you wriggle in his arms, too wide and too strong to escape, even if you wanted to.

it's enraging. it's gratifying. you don't know what it is, and never have.

he must have been fucking suguru. and after he got his, he came to you.

should you laugh, or cry?

"i could have asked shoko." you mumble almost miserably.

but a sigh escapes you as he fondles your breast. satoru always knows how to make you feel good.

maybe not as good as shoko does, but you're still nice enough not to say that to his face.

"what? to sleep with you?" satoru scoffs, "you can't sleep without me, either."

neither of you have ever slept alone, not a single night in your life.

not even when you were deathly ill and the clan begged the precious six eyes to stay away and not catch your sickness.

satoru had stayed by your side the entire while. held your hand while your head pounded and your body ached. wiped your tears when you cried.

because you were very young, and very sick, in more pain than you'd ever felt before. you had honestly thought you were going to die.

there had been no servants, no mother or father or caretaker. only satoru holding you close, lifting you to drink some water and medicine. telling you that you couldn't die. he wouldn't allow it.

and to your child's mind, that had been reassuring. your brother never left you. your fever broke and you were okay, just like he said you would be.

now, you know better. now you know satoru would lay in bed with people who weren't you, even if he always came back (for now).

now you knew what it was like to have someone else by your side.

(but was it enough? could it ever be enough? could it ever be what you have with him?)

"i'll never know until i try." you turn in his arms to face him, and he allows it.

blue eyes. beautiful, beautiful blue. a pretty face. almost as pretty as shoko's.

you've been learning, lately. you used to think of the mole on her cheek as an imperfection, the cigarette smoke a bad habit.

now? you still think it's a bad habit, but the mole is charming. and you don't hate the smell as much because shoko took you out shopping for perfume.

she asked you which one you liked the most, and bought it for herself. she wears it every friday when you have your girls night out with utahime.

where you get drunk enough to make out with her until she brings you back to the dorm, kissing and fondling and touching.

she asks you if it's okay. asks you how you like it best. asks you to touch her this way, that way.

it's not like how it is with satoru. but she makes you feel good, makes you happy. she wants you to feel good. when you cry she kisses your tears away, like she knows better than to ask but wants to comfort you anyways.

when was the last time satoru tried to comfort you?

"hey," satoru breathes into your ear, pulling your panties down, "c'mon."

when you think of her, your heart flutters. when you think of satoru, your stomach flips, and your whole body aches.

you don't know what love is. you don't think satoru does, either.

otherwise, why would he ever leave geto's arms? when he's so obviously head over heels for him?

you clasp one arm against his chest as you reach down, stroking his cock to hardness. geto must have made him cum (satoru has never made you cum). must have fucked him.

satoru rolls you so you're on top of him.

his shirt is off, baring his lean, muscled chest. your brother, your strong, handsome, beautiful brother, looking up at you with wandering eyes and greedy hands.

your hands are equally greedy. running over his chest, ghosting over his nipples until he shivers. oversensitive. he always is after he's been with geto.

satoru's got a condom out already. he slips it on, leaning forward and pinning you down beneath him.

he doesn't have to use condoms with geto. he doesn't have to be the one on top all the time, either. geto can fuck him. he must like that.

geto's a special grade sorcerer. geto's a man. he's not his sister.

his cock is sliding up and down against your entrance, wetting the condom as he nips at your breast.

he always leaves marks like this, but never where anyone can see.

does he leave marks on geto?

"do you like him more?" you mumble, anxiety swirling in your gut. your lower half is a hot swirling pool of need, leaking for him.

and he inches in, making you whine, making you claw marks into his shoulder. you hope geto sees them.

satoru groans, low and throaty. it always feels like coming home when he's inside you. a perfectly matched lock and key.

his hand threads through your hair. you're so beautiful, so fucking beautiful. he'll admit he's a vain bitch, but who wouldn't be? looking like the two of you do.

maybe one day he should get you to dress up like him. wear a strap and fuck him, that'd be fun.

for now, you're warm and soft and perfect for him. so comfortable. and you're rambling about stuff that isn't important.

"what," he murmurs, breathy from the warmth of you around him, "who?"

if the frustration shows on your face, he can just fuck it away.

"geto." the name is swallowed by a swift thrust, hands planted on your hips.

you wish he'd touch your clit more (you never ask). you wish he'd answer your question (you're afraid to push). but your brother just doesn't think about other people.

"c'mon," he whines, "don't talk about some other dude. you're with me."

"you were with him."

"so?" he thrusts in harder, stealing your breath, like that'll win him the argument, "you're fucking shoko."

satoru fucks you breathless, then. pumping in and out so quickly that the friction has you shuddering, shivering, close enough that you finally start to squeeze around him.

it's always like this with him. you feel like you're drowning, helpless. all you can do is cling to him.

"satoru," you hate how pitiful your voice sounds, "satoruuuu...."

he's hitting you, so deep and so hard it hurts, pierces through the breathless haze and leaves you clenching around him.

"please," your breath escapes you with his next thrust.

please don't leave me. don't abandon me for him. don't discard me now that you have someone better. don't leave me all by myself...

tears dot at your eyes, squeezing around him. satoru's own eyes are wide and wild, his hips shoving into you staggeringly fast.

"i got you," he says, close, so close, "i've got you."

another deep thrust, painful as it is pleasurable, bruising and fast like his fingertips on your hips. he swallows your moans with a kiss.

he thinks he can eat up all your complaints, all your anxiety. hide away from his own by nestling himself in your body.

you don't want anyone but him, right? he's the only one who touches you like this.

the way you squeeze around him, the way your body feels against his, no one else gets that from you. shoko couldn't do this for you. no one could.

you say his name again and he's ready to burst. you love him always. you're so good for him. you make him feel good just by being there.

a part of his life. a missing limb. his precious sister, his beating heart, right there against his chest.

"there," satoru pants, "fuck, there, cum for me, baby..."

it's tears you blink away when he gasps and cums, burying himself inside you with a wounded sort of whimper.

you never do, when it's him. to be fair, you've never done it to yourself, either.

you only ever came when shoko fucked you. but fucked is such an ugly word for how gently she touched you, how soft she smiled.

"satoru," you whine again, "do you like him more than me? i like you more than shoko..."

satoru doesn't answer you. his hands move from your bruised hips to wrap around you, pull you close, plant kisses on your head.

"you know," he mumbles out your name. "you know."

there's a flash of rage. irrational.

he won't say it. he won't even say it. satoru will fuck you, his own sister. cling to you like he needs you to survive, sleep with you every night of his life.

but he won't say he loves you more than geto. he won't even say he likes you.

and you know - because you know him like the back of your hand, you were born with him, you spent every waking moment of your life with him until you came to the school - you know satoru loves you.

but he loves you like he loves air. it's always there. always accessible. it's not like the air will suddenly leave.

you curl into satoru's muscled chest, let him embrace you closer, sink into the silence that's only comfortable for him.

maybe there's something you can do about this.

[fefe-the-cat]

Frithuswith (protagonist of my current wip, Adultery, Assassination)

[1] Frithuswith is immediately beloved by all. She genuinely loves everyone she meets. Major golden retriever energy, but still competent enough to be one of her kingdom's greatest monarchs.

[2] She's a queen consort. She's never alone. But if she was, she'd probably just... vibe, I guess, I don't know.

[3] Grief, specifically the kind that comes from betrayal. She just denies everything. The only reason she believed Eadgifu when she said she seduced Rastislav (her husband) was because Eadgifu was "running too high a fever to be lying" at the time.

[4] Loving almost to a fault and will make everyone aware.

[5] Definitely a good secret keeper seeing as no one found out about the attempt on Rastislav's life. But they all knew Frithuswith used her regency to usurp the throne.

[6] She meant what she said and she said what she meant. An elephant's faithful one hundred percent!

[7] She could probably lie if she wanted to, but she just... doesn't want to.

[8] She will definitely let you know. She's spunky.

[9] I... don't know, actually. Maybe all of them? I think she can adapt.

[10] Frithuswith fell for Rastislav hard and fast, and trusted him blindly.

[11] A crackling fire, a soft blanket, and an opportunity to yap.

[12] Her self-esteem is pretty high, but she's not arrogant. She knows she's flawed, but she also knows worse people can and do exist.

[13] A joke that might take a second to get. A funny one-liner or clever pun.

[14] It depends on the situation. A flustered/crush laugh is a giggle. An amused laugh is a cackle. Then there's that sad laugh. I don't know how to type it, but I'm guessing you all know what it sounds like.

[15] She overthrew her husband because he cheated on her. This question can't be answered because Frithuswith is never around someone she doesn't like. She just kicks them out or leaves.

[16] She's self-reliant but not problematically.

___

[17] The constant fear of being assassinated.

[18] No.

[19] She wouldn't have married Rastislav. She would have kicked and screamed and insisted on her father making an alliance with another country. Or joined a convent. Or run off into the woods.

[20] She just does her darndest to solve the problem. Cheating husband? Kick him out. Girl tried to assassinate him because she's a hitwoman? Give her a new job. She's very practical.

[21] Really depends on how sick. A little sniffle or an upset stomach? Leave her alone. the plague? Please hold her.

[22] She'll have nightmares, but they're more vaguely threatening and they don't happen often. If they do, she doesn't remember them.

[23] During canon. Husband gets plague, finds out husband got plague from cheating on her because mistress is an assassin, has to rule the country and figure out how to deal...

[24] I'd say overthrowing the king was a pretty heart over head decision.

[25] The story is set in what is implied to be Medieval Europe, so I think all her fears were rational and the better question is why isn't she afraid of everything?

[26] If she does, I'm not sure how important it is to the plot. Up to you guys :) She may have a few traits yoinked from autism though. As a treat. Because I'm autistic. But it's entirely open to interpretation.

[27] She doesn't really have a physical appearance. She could be anyone. But my current mental image of her is Jane from My Lady Jane (the TV show).

[28] Forgiveness is complex. It doesn't mean no longer being hurt. It doesn't mean reconciliation. It means intentionally choosing not to hold a grudge and hate that person for the sake of the forgiver. So I really don't know.

[29] Eliminate the cause, cry...

[30] Healthiest: cry, solve problem. Unhealthiest: you could put her quotes on r/rare insults probably

[31] Hmmmm... I think it depends on whether she's aware that what she did was wrong. If she knowingly did something wrong, she'd own up to it quickly and easily, but if it was an accident or only considered wrong by an arbitrary societal standard (e.g. greeting someone with a cat noise, wearing pants around the palace, etc.), she probably won't, at least not without putting up a bit of a fight.

[32] Being so trusting.

[33] Her wedding. Even if the guy turned out to be an adulterous asshole, she still looks back on it as a good day.

___

[34] She's impulsive and naive, but I don't know how insecure she is about that.

[35] Up to interpretation. I didn't give her a physical appearance, nor do I know if/what beauty standards are applicable in the setting, so it's up to everyone else.

[36] Yes, definitely. Her wedding dress and ring, probably.

[37] She doesn't get those. She has a kingdom to run.

[38] It's a castle. It's inherently safe, otherwise purposeless.

[39] Sidesleeper, probably scrunched up, likes to be the little spoon.

[40] It's the Middle Ages. She can't afford that.

[41] Wake up, get dressed by lady/ies-in-waiting, monch.

[42] Cuddle time for both

[43] She's the queen. That's not a thing.

[44] Wherever the people are.

[45] Depends on the event.

[46] Comfort.

[47] Probably, but not much. Maybe a glass of wine or mead with dinner. Maybe a couple on her wedding night.

[48] princess->queen

___

[49] Literate, good at politics (not even a period-typical misogyny thing, King John of England needed a signet ring for a reason)

[50] Really good at knowing what she wants, really bad at wanting things society wants her to want, probably

[51] I refer again to her position in society.

[52] Old English (Frithuswith was named after St. Frithuswith, Patron Saint of Oxford, that's her native language), Czech (Rastislav is named after the king of Moravia in the 860's), and probably Latin (church and stuff)

[53] I feel like they didn't sing much outside of church at that time...

[54] Just tell her what you want and she'll do her best to get it to you :)

[55] It takes three weeks for habits to be developed, so...

[56] Depends. Was it clever? Did the dirt contribute? Is she eating? Are there children present? What's the relationship between the maker of the joke and everyone else present, including but not limited to her?

[57] Nurse the woman who tried to assassinate her husband back to health.

[58] Morals

[59] She doesn't care much about if she's remembered or specifically what for, but if she is remembered, she wants it to be for something good or morally neutral

[60] I think she already did. She usurped the throne. I think that counts, except she can't break the law because she is the law, so...

OC questions

60 questions that can be made into an OC ask game, or you can just fill everything out yourself to get to know your character a little better :)

___

[1] What first impression do they typically make? Are they likeable from the get go, or take time to grow on people?

[2] How does their social personality differ from how they act when they’re alone?

[3] What emotion is the hardest for them to deal with?

[4] How physically and emotionally affectionate they are?

[5] Are they good at keeping secrets?

[6] How direct are they in conversations, do they speak in hints and riddles or bluntly say what they think?

[7] Are they a good liar, and what would they probably lie about?

[8] How open they are about their true feelings, both positive and negative?

[9] What is their love language?

[10] How quickly do they fall for someone?

[11] What are small things that make them happy?

[12] How high is their self-esteem?

[13] What kind of sense of humor do they have, if any?

[14] What does it take to make them laugh, and what does their laugh sound like?

[15] How do they act around people they don't like?

[16] Do they easily rely on others to help them out, or prefer doing everything themselves?

___

[17] What is their biggest struggle that no one around them is able to understand or believe?

[18] Do they ever have to hide their identity and for what reason?

[19] If they could change one thing about their past, what would they change?

[20] When they’re sad or upset, do they need company or some time alone?

[21] When they’re sick, would they want others to visit and take care of them, or they would rather prefer not to be seen at not their best?

[22] Do they have nightmares, and if yes, when did they start and what are they usually about?

[23] What was the worst, the darkest period of their life that they have been through?

[24] How hard it is for them to not allow their emotions to cloud their judgement?

[25] Do they have fears and phobias, and if they do, do they usually keep it to themselves or talk about it openly?

[26] Do they have any physical or mental ilness, how do they handle it and how open they are about it?

[27] Do they have any scars, how did they get them and how do they feel about them?

[28] What is something that they will never be able to forgive?

[29] How do they deal with loss, stress and anger?

[30] What are their most healthy and most unhealthy coping mechanisms?

[31] How hard it is for them to own up to their mistakes and wrongdoings?

[32] Is there something they've done in the past that they deeply regret till this day?

[33] What are one of their fondest and most treasured memories?

___

[34] Do they have vices they don't want others to know about?

[35] Do they like their own appearance, and what do they do, if anything, to alter it in any way?

[36] Do they own items that have sentimental value?

[37] How would they spend a lazy day when they have nothing specific to do?

[38] What do they usually do or where do they go when they need to feel comfortable and safe?

[39] What is their sleeping habits and favorite sleeping position, either alone and with someone?

[40] How picky they are with food, do they have specific dietary requirements based on their health or culture?

[41] What’s their usual morning routine?

[42] What is their idea of a perfect friendly hangout and/or romantic date?

[43] Do they enjoy flirting or being flirted with?

[44] On a party, where would you find them?

[45] For an event, would they dress like they typically do, or go all out?

[46] Would they rather dress to look attractive or to feel comfortable, and what would they never wear?

[47] Do they drink alcohol, and if they do, how much and how often?

[48] Are they, or were they at some point in their life, a part of any subculture?

___

[49] Do they possess any unexpected skill or knowledge that surprises others, and otherwise, what is something anyone would assume they know or can do, but in fact they don’t?

[50] What are they really good and really bad at?

[51] How good are they with money?

[52] Do they speak any other languages aside from their own?

[53] Do they like to sing and how confident they are with their singing?

[54] Do they like giving gifts, and how good are they at picking good gifts?

[55] How long does it take for them to make a new place feel like home, and what do they need for it?

[56] How would they react to hearing a dirty joke?

[57] What was the most stupid or dangerous thing they have ever done?

[58] In the situation where they had to choose, would they rather stay loyal to their morals or to people they love?

[59] What would they want to be remembered for?

[60] If they were to commit a crime, what kind of crime would it most likely be?

---

some of these question were written myself, some are the courtesy of my friend, and some were brought from my questionnaires in my old fandom. if you use them, please reblog or link back to this post

[tourturestarradio]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒✮

"𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧. 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐘𝐨𝐮!"

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Pairing: Monster trio! x reader!

Prompt: The gifts you give to the trio and the gifts they'd give you!

Warnings: just mostly fluff and fun

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘

I feel like Luffy would treasure anything you gave him, like how he is with his hat

So he wouldn't mind whatever you got him and didn't understand why you got so stressed when it came to you getting him a gift

So on Christmas he was excited to see what you got him munching on gingerbread man

He absolutely SUCKS at getting someone a gift

He would think it a good gift and honestly you don't have the heart to tell him it's bad

Once you both exchanged gifts he had a bright gleam in his eye as he watched you open your gift

His grin grew much wider as you smiled at the small necklace he got you it had a little 'L' on it (Nami totally didn't throw away his gift and switch it out)

He hurried and unwrapped his gift his grin dropping as he sees a framed picture of him and his brothers, and two necklaces one with your first initial and the other one with the initials 'ASL'

You were worried you may have made him upset but when his arms wrapped around you tightly you smile as he tackled you into a hug, comedic tears running down his face

"Th-This is the best gift ever!" he shouted smushing his cheek against yours

Safe to say he liked your gift

𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎

I can't see Zoro as someone who gives thoughtful gifts, like at all...

He would "gift" whatever he found laying around

No joke he literally got you one of his weights put it in a lazily wrapped box and handed it over to you

It wasn't until AFTER Nami cracked her fist over his head that he started putting in more effort but ONLY for you

He would be stuck and would need help from Nami and Robin to get you a gift

But it wasn't of much help Nami spouting "get them something pretty! Or expensive!" and Robin stating "Get them something they like, or something with important meaning"

So he left the women figuring they wouldn't be of much help

And don't get me wrong he would know everything you liked and dislike

He heard alll your long rambles about what you enjoyed, what you hated, your favorite food, favorite drink everything and you would never know

Which is the only reason he was so stumped, he knew too much now he didn't know what to get at all so he bought literally everything he thought you would like hoping it would make you happy.

Now you on the other hand already knew what to get him, but luck wasn't really wasn't on your side as you made your way down to a shop in town but some petty thugs tried to rob you but you weren't fazed even in the slightest you just wanted to get back to the ship

But these guys really made it hard for you, they just kept pestering you, and it's not like you could do much because you left your weapon back on the ship

Zoro leaving a store, had spotted you being surrounded by some random men

He dropped the many boxes and bags seemingly appearing behind the men and cutting them down with ease

You smiled at him throwing your arms around his shoulders "my hero!"

Zoro pretended not to be fazed by your words but the small smile said otherwise

Later he showed you the gifts he got you but you sighed leaning on him "oh you're the best gift I could ask for" you said placing a little bow on his head

"So does that mean I can take all this stuff back?"

"No♡"

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

Tried to get you a ring.

I'm not kidding, he would be dead set on proposing to you, but when Robin said that'd be to much he dropped that plan, (he still kept the ring....just in case)

I could see him as someone who thinks too much about what to get you

It was very tiring for him so settled for something nice, something he was good at, cooking. Cooking like a little fancy dinner for the two of you

But that plan was also shot down when you trotted into the kitchen dressed in a cute Santa outfit while he was trying to cook

Coming up behind him, he knew you were there BUT he didn't know you were gonna touch him so he did a little when you wrapped your arms around his torso pressing your cheek again his back

He froze in his spot as if he had turned to stone, you peeked around him "Merry Christmas honey" you muttered sliding a box next to him, he could feel his heart rate increase as he heard your voice

Slowly turning to face you he knew he'd be blinded by your beauty but this! As soon as he laid eyes on you it was over

Falling back he kicked the bucket blood gushing from his nose

You only sighed at his antics as you went and got chopper

Upon waking up Sanji looked around "maybe it was just a dream..."

Oh but it wasn't looking to his right he saw a medium sized box on his nightstand

Placing it in his lap he saw a little note on top that read 'Hope you like love you!'

He smiled at the note and set it aside opening the box he was stunned on top there was a heart shaped locket, opening it it was a picture of you and him his smile grew bigger as he looked through the rest of the box, it was filled with memories of you and him mostly different photos

One stood out though, it was a picture of you and him, you were hugging his side and kissing his cheek as his face was beat red

Holding the picture close to his chest he smiled

You really were his one true love.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

A/n: I'm so mad I couldn't put this out on Christmas RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhh

[threadbearsweater]

megumi fushiguro x f!reader. aged-up megumi (early 20's) established relationship, nsfw.

Sex with Megumi is always good. He's attentive, in tune with your body language. You know he'll always make sure you're satisfied, no matter what that might mean in the moment.

He also knows when you're not necessarily feeling it, and when you're perhaps performing for his benefit because you think it's what he wants.

And it isn't that you don't want to make love to him, with him. It feels nice to grind in his lap while he nuzzles his face into your tits. His hands settled on either side of your hips guide you in the rhythm he knows you like without being overbearing. Kissing him feels molten; transcendental, even.

But tonight, you just can't focus. Your body feels puppet-like, and a novice pulls the strings. Your mind is far off somewhere else, not here on the couch where your boyfriend moves inside you while you grab fistfuls of his hair and arch your back a little too far and moan a little too loud for Megumi to believe.

His hands press a little harder into your hips, and he stills you, those jade eyes searching your face while your own eyes remain screwed shut- like you're willing yourself to enjoy this intimacy.

"Hey," he says. It's hoarse and a little breathless. You pout and press harder into his lap, but he holds you firm. "Open your eyes."

You open one eye and stick out your tongue.

"Look at me." God, he's so fucking earnest.

You sigh and open your eyes fully. He's so beautiful- flushed and panting, some of his hair sticking to the sheen of sweat on his forehead. You admire the view, avoiding the inevitable.

"Where are you?" he asks.

You shrug and slide your arms around his neck. "Right here. With you."

He rakes a hand through his hair. "Are you- do you, I mean- fuck." He huffs a sigh. "Are you even enjoying this?"

He's still buried between your thighs, but neither of you has moved a muscle. You're a bird in a cage. He won't release you until you're honest.

"I just. I dunno, it feels good, but I'm not - I guess I'm not like, into it tonight, you know?"

"Why didn't you say something before?" he asks. He's not offended because he thinks you don't want him.

"I thought maybe if we just...did it, then maybe I'd get there." Your thighs are sticky against his, the lack of movement making your skin feel cold. "Sometimes that happens. I'm not in the mood, then I can kinda get there if we fool around enough."

Megumi frowns. "Does it happen a lot?"

You're emphatic with your denial of his question- eyes widen, arms locked around his neck and shoulders. "No, I swear! I always want you! Just sometimes...not as much. As other times." Oh, your laugh is knee-jerk response to your insecurity.

"Just tell me then," he says. He slips his arms around your waist. He's not nearly as hard as he was a few minutes ago, but you really don't mind. In fact, it's a relief to know that you don't have to pretend anymore. "It's not a big deal."

To know Megumi is to love him. To be known and loved by him is a gift in itself. You're grateful for a partner who sees you, even if it's hard to be perceived.

"I love you," you say with tears in your eyes. You shift so that he's able to cradle you in his lap, chin resting atop your head. He pulls a blanket over the two of you and turns on the TV.

"Love you, too," he echoes. What a relief to know he means it.

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

IF your requests are open, could you please do Hyugo, Geo, and Crowe with a calm s/o that makes them feel safe? Like, for Hyugo, the s/o is probably the big spoon, (was thinking of slightly taller but I think slightly shorter is better..?), someone who just loves to hold him - and for that little time, Hyugo is in heaven. And so is s/o. (Just giving suggestions, you don't have to follow the script.) For Crowe, it's probably similar? But Crowe is the prince charming - meaning s/o would probably have to be hard to fluster (?). The s/o would probably kick some ass if anyone dared say anything about all those three in a ny situations - or if anyone talked shit about the s/o's close friends in general. Geo is probably a completely different story. He doesn't like to be touched - but little things, such as little gifts (or maybe flowers) and the s/o's presenece makes his feel strangely at ease.

I LOVE your work! I can't really figure out how to write my oneshots, especially hcs - but if I ever do, I'll make sure to tag you!

WITHIN YOUR ARMS

Thank you so much for the kind words! And, if you want some advice on writing oneshots or HCs, just press buttons on your keyboard that at least somewhat personify what you're trying to say; but either way make SURE you tag me, whatever it is you cook up I'll feast upon till the day I wither and die. 😔

-- Signed solemnly by @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer AKA Sky Fort(resse)s and Burning Citadels <3

In Geode's case, you serve as one of the few people - that he's already well acquainted with - whom he trusts. Fully trusts. He doesn't know whether to be irked or content with this innate feeling, so he does what he typically does with feelings - repression.

He's very rarely someone who cracks, or makes it aware how weak he truly feels, the only people who have are Hyugo and maybe his parents - adoptive parents, but parents nonetheless. The point is, that odd trust makes him feel that if he were to crack and have the dams break, you'd do something different. You wouldn't try to rebuild said dam or freeze the cascading waterfalls of tears with ice...you'd simply let the waterworks run, let these feelings run wild and about, until they find their due course down wherever it is that feelings go.

Not that he will, of course. That'll never happen, especially if sober. The only way tears'll ever happen is if Geo's tipsy or high. He's never been under the influence. Doesn't want to be either.

The only reason he starts somewhat talking to you is if you're close with Crowe or Brittney. Or if either of them - or even Deryl - ask him to be more open with you.

He appreciates your nonchalant nature, you've got a moral compass and plenty of passion - but you're logical, reasonable, tolerable. He finds himself approving of you eventually.

You both get closer typically through Deryl or Crowe being with you lot, the former tends to drag Geo along regardless, while the latter wants to simply relax with his friends - and you lmao.

Anyway he'll only start cracking when you show a more serious interest in being his friend, whether that be inviting him somewhere or getting him a small gift. "Did Deryl put you up to this? What even is it."

"It's from me! We're friends - at least I want us to be - so, yeah. Heard you like these. :))"

"Oh". *long pause* "Thank...s. It's appreciated. :]"

Soon enough he decides he likes you enough to hang out with you alone, and that's when the true bonding starts. You become good friends pretty quickly - especially comparing to Geo's friendship track records and in turn it takes him significantly longer to discover he likes you. Not simply platonically.

To put this simply, Geo's a little bitch who fears rejection and humiliation and thus, you will have to be the confessor in terms of these romantic feelings.

Insert long dramatic timeskip.

When together, Geo gently, gingerly, starts being less stoic around you, he still detests being touched, but he'll allow a handhold every now and then, he enjoys knowing you're comfortable and content with him. Only allows things like hugging when severely comfortable around you, and only when you're asleep. You'll probably be watching a movie together and you 'fall asleep' (or maybe you actually do, who knows) on his shoulder, and after about 20 minutes that man is grinning to himself. Not that you'll ever know, but the satisfaction he gets is insane.

This man will also serve as the perfect #malewife. Will cook, will clean, will drive, will be a jealous little shit. There's no way he isn't. He definitely spends hours in bed contemplating what to do about these nuisances. ALSO GETS RED AND FLUSHED EASILY!!!!!!!!!! He blushes so hard his skin looks red. That's probably why he looks up at the sky when around you lets be fr.

In terms of sleeping in the same bed, it'll probably never happen. Firstly, his touch aversion; secondly it's normal for couples to sleep separately in Japanese culture anyway, so for him that was always the norm growing up. It'd take a LOT to get you both together, but let's make some magic happen and you're in a one-bed scenario (check out that one HC I did of this trope btw).

Only touching that happens will probably be hand-holding, but while that may seem small for most, for Geo that's insane. For him to initiate touch is even crazier, so if he does, you better stay with him. If something happens that makes you either scared or otherwise require comfort, he might let you hold him - him being preferably in a couple of sweaters to ignore the feelings (also I HC he's cold all the time) - BUT he's big spooning. He is not risking his hair being touched, no sir no ma'am.

"Hm. >:)" *silently smiles in the dead of night in a Japanese manner*

For Hyugo, you're one of - if not the - only thing that's remained steady in his deranged, messy life. He's surrounded by falseties, by masks, by faces of people who either hide their truth from him, or - like his brother - made it apparent how willingly they would be to leave him alone within this web he's entangled himself into, been forced to be entangled into.

He's been raised in wealth and fame, so he's learnt about reputation - and the vitality of safety - from a young age, an age that should've been saved for childlike naiveties...but not Hyugo. Since his youth he's either guarded, watched or puppeteered - if not by his family then by his reputation, and if not for reputation then the endless scandalous things he's gotten up to.

He's learnt to rely on intuition, on logic, on maintaining unpredictability that can leave most confused or deterred from pursuing any suspicious things he might've revealed sometime ages ago. He's got a good memory to, how else is he meant to memorise every alibi and lie he's ever uttered?

Either way, he never was able to simply be. To exist in himself and feel serene, at ease. Until he met you, that is; and it wasn't a short process either! This man's got intense, well-rooted trust issues. He fears attachment, but alas his heart decided that this one - this beautiful stranger - was someone...stable. Someone trustworthy, someone safe.

He's by far not a saint, he knows it, some nights it even haunts him...on rarer times he wonders if he's even got any humanity left. If he has any empathy left. Love left. The thought scares him, oddly enough. Until you come along and remind him that clearly not, because he feels something akin to devotion in terms of you, especially after a long time of knowing you.

When he does grow close to you, in a sense that blends the lines of platonic and romantic, he sees you as his aegis. His sword and shield, his camouflage and beacon. Not that he'll admit the extent of thee feelings, of course not. He's got a facade to maintain, or 100.

When you two eventually try out a relationship and find it works well, find you guys have stuck it out together for a year or so and decide to live together, he serves as a domestic cook and tutor. He'll help you as much as he can, when not MIA or finding himself occupied by important-people-duties.

In terms of sleeping in the same bed, it'll take a LONG time to get to that, but say you two are watching a movie and he ends up resting his head on your shoulder, gingerly nuzzling into your neck and then, before either of you know it, he falls asleep.

According to himself, one of the best nights of sleep he's ever gotten. And that begs the thought, was it you specifically? yes it was

He thinks about it, and overtime notices he's less anxious around you, his inner turmoil finds pause in your arms, and soon enough he's wrapped around your abdomen as many nights as he can get - and if you're willing. You've a calm presence, a soothing soul and your touch is a balm to the many wounds he's earned and suffered, both physical and mental - murder takes its toll on everyone. He'll rarely say it, but your calm is one of the things that's kept him relatively normal.

100% snuggle switch, loves being the little spoon on darker nights, where the intrusive memories and haunting thoughts return to drive him insane; loves being the big spoon when he's in a protective or possessive mood. If he's feeling affectionate he'll be your personal koala. "Haah. You're many things, Y/N, but you're not false and I pray - for both our sakes - that we'll remain together, that I can stay together with you. For you...I'm willing to try." OR... "Hello. Goodnight." *snores in Japanese*

Hyugo will sometimes decide to flirt with you. If you're calm enough to not appear fazed, he's gonna be the biggest tease possible, kissing either your neck or cheek when he's off to do whatever. Enjoys seeing your reactions to things he does, it brings him immense joy to have you feeling - and expressing - your contentment.

May or may not mutter itadakimasu before annihilating your cunt. May or may not get extremely horny at the prospect of feeling so at ease in your arms, because while being inside your arms are nice, he can think of a few places that'd also be real nice to fit in.

I'd also like to say I'm betting my amygdala on the fact that Hyugo sounds really melodious when he whines. He loves being touched, also. If he feels safe with you, you holding him or touching him makes him feel heavenly. He loves it, and he definitely grows to loving you as well.

In Crowe's case, you've already been friends ages, but even from the second his gaze landed on you he knew he was gone. Despite your camaraderie starting during the pinnacle of a fight he'd thrown himself into to aid you, feeding his newly innate desire - need - to protect you...he knew he was gone.

He probably hadn't realized the extent of it, but even after that fight ended and especially when you finally accepted his hand in friendship, seeing that stoic and distrustful glare turn into a gaze of a simmering warmth, a soothing calm and acceptance. In short, he found you ethereal.

And it was over the course of this friendship that he recognised how truly trustworthy and reliable you are. You're non-judgmental, you voice your concerns, you remain a force of stability amongst the dramas and chaos that is university. You provide a calm to his boisterous and troubled life. You're got an authenticity about you, another trait that Crowe adores you for.

He's got baggage, he knows it, yet with you he feels unburdened. Free from all the shit that's piling up behind the scenes, the rumours and the scandals and the insanity. You offer him a respite from that. An escape, one he ironically enough wants to be trapped in forever, as long as you allow it.

Crowe enjoys making playful remarks, flirtatious compliments; especially when he's jealous or feeling particularly bold. Typically you either bite and flirt back, or coolly brush it off, giving a snarky "I know." or "I'm honoured you think of me so highly."

Anyway Crowe catches on to his own feelings rather quickly, and is the most logical about acting on them. He aids you with homework, studies alongside you, spends as much time with you as possible. But as the years of uni go by, you both grow more distant due to busy schedules and a general social growth and/or decline on your part.

Crowe became a council member, the class president, gaining leadership roles and popularity as time went on, but at the end of the day; nobody - not even his current friendgroup, as awesome as they are - can compare to how safe and genuinely at peace he was with you. By your side.

Now let me say, for the sake of the argument and these HCs, that one day you both lovedrunkenly confess under the stars and have primal carnal sex and in general are so intuned with one-another spiritually physically emotionally that you guys end up together, like how you were always destined to be.

In terms of dating, Crowe will amp up his flirting, especially if you react to it subtly, or indicate you like it. He respects your boundaries of course, that'll never change. He also gets the #malewife title btw.

When you both end up sleeping in the same bed, it doesn't take too long for that to happen, considering how long you've known each other, and while yes sometimes you two go at it and have more carnal loving heated passionate *coughs*...ah, sorry. Anyway! Despite how invested you both are in each other, on nights where it's quiet, where you're listening to each other's heartbeats and breaths (a DJ can make a backing track just from that tbh), Crowe holds you in his arms and resists the urge to weep. Because he has you, in his arms, in his bed, in his heart and soul; and you have him in your heart, your mind, sometimes even between your thighs.

He's so in love with you it's beyond words, touches or gifts. He feels so safe and loved with you, knowing you'll support and defend him as passionately as he does you...and his heart swells.

Will typically serve as the big spoon, loves holding you in his arms, pressing you to his chest and feeling you softly breathe on his skin. Can be a little spoon sometimes, and whenever you wrap yourself around him, he sleeps a tad more soundly than he would normally with you.

"I love you...God I love you so much it hurts..."

OR

"Darling, you're everything to me...and you always were and will be. Eternally."

[little-flowers]

Thinking of more shiny duo/Gempearl aus bc I have issues

Gems, a princess (bc obviously) she, takes a trip/leave for a few years, blending in in the royal guards' rank very quickly and becoming a master class assassin to the level of some of the highest guards in the castle (False and Joel to name a few) only to drop off the surface of the assassins court. To become a princess again. All is well; her personal guard (Etho) is the only person who knows the whole story, and he is still ashamed of losing that many times. And then Pearl floats into her orbit as a new member of the assassin's court, in the same position Gem used to have.

Now, obviously, Gem can't just send a letter from the castle to Martyn, yelling at him for replacing her that quickly. And she can't just fire Pearl from the court because she's jealous. But she can let it slip to Etho that she doesn't like her. And slowly but surely come up with more absurd tasks for the Knight to do. One day, Pearl, fed up with the torture, sneaks into the princess's room to find out, only to realize that the girl has the same Auburn hair as Martyn's prized Gemini. The dots click, and Gem wakes up to a flushed, fretting, obnoxiously pretty girl. Pearl can't say anything because it's her, and Gem can't even find it in her heart to question the girl because how on earth is someone this pretty? I don't know what happens after this—I can't write endings, but something happens.

Another is slightly more angsty (it's a lot more, I'm sorry I didn't mean for it to be so angsty) because that one was a bit silly.

Gem grew up a trained assassin. That was her whole life. Bred from a young age to be a weapon. (same Academy as grian bc ofc) Her first task is to build a life in this small, tight-knit community. And she does just that, a local fisherman. She does doesn't get attached to anyone. And she loves hates the local Mailwomen. She's annoyingly obsessed with pickles and not pretty in the slightest. Gems is not attached in the slightest to this town, and she definitely doesn't call it home.

Then, her assignment comes through. (Oh, yeah, she didn't like them.) Pearl is important to another member of the assassins. She has to kill her. Gem doesn't want to; this is her Pearl. Yeah, she's annoying, but she's the perfect height to rest her head on, she makes a great hot cocoa, and if she's dead who will watch Tilly?? Gem couldn't murder her. Her brother didn't have a target over his head, but it was easy to put one there. She had a year to kill Pearl or her brothers dead.

Yeah, anyway, have fun with my brainworms (you can have them if you want. Just tag me or lemme know or smth, I wanna see)

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Merry Christmas to you too my wonderful friend!🎄💗

Aww poor Ben. I love how we start with shading in his past Christmases compared to what he's starting to experience now with the reader. We come at it from the same angle of headcanon, that Ben's mom was the only person who truly loved him in his family. So it was such a good detail that after she died, Christmases became just more of the same toxic/apathetic atmosphere with his father, compounded by the impact of his mom's death.

Thank you! I love this headcanon and I really hope that in the prequel series "Vought Rising" that we're able to see a little more of Ben's relationship with his father and hopefully let us learn more about his mother. I know that this headcanon is a little "dean-like" but I think it also kinda plays into the "angel in the house" phenomenon that started in the mid to late 1800s. But the headcanon to me, makes sense. Ben has so many issues with his dad and I honestly don't think that if his mother was around that Ben's father would give him such a hard time or allow Ben to grow up in that kind of enviornment.

I also wanted to give Ben some "happy" memories from his childhood that he could compare what the reader was doing for him to something that was familiar and something that resonated with him😊, something about Christmas that was "familiar."

Lmfao come on, Ben. Let's not take this out on others. 🤣

He is the KING of taking it out on others LOL 😂 He also takes it out on Hughie in this fic and I felt so bad doing that to Hughie, but it is so in character for Ben 😒

Wow, that's so interesting. Taking a trip literally through Memory Lane and walking through his family's mansion. I've never thought about that before, but I imagine it would be one of those things that Ben, for the longest time, couldn't bring himself to sell, but also couldn't visit. Like a mausoleum of his old life.

I use this headcanon in my other series Madness, (same with Ben's mother), but to me it seems to make sense. That Ben would have a family mansion somewhere that is full of terrible memories from his father being a total jerk to him and never wanted to set foot inside. "Like a mausoleum of his old life" EXACTLY! It's just a big drafty old house that Ben can't go into because even though he says he's not afraid of anything, he can still feel his father's disapproval and disappointment, and going "home" to where he grew up would only make it worse.

Ben doesn't know what a home is because of what his father did, and now the reader is slowly showing him what it means. I also low-key wanna write the fic of her and him coming back to his house and him being hesitant and her just wandering around in complete shock. 🤔

You're killin' me, friend!! 😭😭

Girl, I'm so sorry 😭😭😭 I had to 😂 It's really just pouring on the hurt and he just really loved his mom 😭

Lmaooo deeply relatable. I feel like it would be oh so funny to intentionally getting on his nerves (knowing he wouldn't hurt you). 😂

I knoooowwww. 😂 I love that about your BMD reader, that she isn't afraid to tease him and he just absolutely HATES it, but he loves her so he can't do anything about it and she knows it. I'll bet that he thinks the real problem is that she knows it LOL 😂

Oh, it's because he actually cares. 💗

He does, man is a total SIMP 😊

People want to think there aren't any good aspects to "traditional/old-fashioned" men, but for the men who are actually good men, traditional doesn't necessarily mean outdated or toxic, so thank you for including this tidbit.

Thank you! 😊 You're right, I think that there's a disconnect about the idea that a "traditional/old-fashioned" man can't be respectful and is always labeled "sexist" or "toxic." And it's wrong, because you can find a man who is respectful, forward thinking, and who has those "old-fashioned/traditional" values (CHIVALRY! 😂) that really translate into putting their girl first, being respectful of what she wants to say, trying to protect her (not because they don't think she can protect herself, but because they want to), and doing things for her (again not because they think she can't do it herself) but because they genuinely care about her. It's the difference between a man and a boy tbh 💅🏻

Her gift to him was so very sweet!! Of course she made him something heartfelt, and he appreciated it because it was a genuine "first" for him, having someone give him a hand-made gift from the heart. 💚💚💚

I know 💗, I really wanted the reader to make something for him, just so that he could again be reminded how much that she loves him and isn't staying with him just because it's convenient or because he's attractive or because she's settling. Also I like that you picked up on the "first" thing again, because that was exactly what I was trying to do lol 😊. It's hard to find firsts for a guy who's over 100 years old 😂

And his gift to her was absolutely perfect. 🥹 A keepsake from his mother? Him basically saying he wishes she could've met his girl? I'm dying of happiness from the sheer fluff. 😭💗

This one was extremely fluffy, but so fun to write! Ben getting her a gift that meant something so intimate to him that he wouldn't have given to anyone else in the past, really just made me melt when I wrote it 🥺 Because he's never wanted to share those pieces of himself with someone else and now he has the reader and I'm just *crying*😭. AND yes! Him saying that he would have brought her home to meet his mom just destroyed me 😭

This was a beautiful addition to the Take a Chance story, and kind of feels like an epilogue in a way, even though I know you're working on that one too. I loved this, friend!!

Thank you so much my wonderful talented friend! 🥰 It really does read like an epilogue and I did not notice that lol 😅

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

Summary:  All Soldier Boy wants for Christmas is to find the perfect gift for you and all you want is for your boyfriend to have the best Christmas he has in forty years. Reader is a supe with plant powers. (Takes place in my Take A Chance On Me Series- 4 months after they get together, but can be read as stand alone!)

Tropes: Established Relationship, First Christmas, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 8.5K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Illusions to Sex, Fluff, Soft Soldier Boy, A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts, Soldier Boy is Mean to Hughie, Mention of drinking/drugs, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

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

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Song Inspiration: Little Things By ABBA

A/N: I know I should be working on the epilogue of "Take a Chance on Me," but @zepskies wrote a lovely Christmas fic called 'Twas the Night for Dean Winchester, and it really just got me in a mood to write some Christmas Fluff! 🥰

Soldier Boy POV

Ben frowned at the delicate necklace laid on the black velvet cloth in front of him, the 10 carat diamonds catching in the brilliant lights that lined the ceiling of the jewelry store. It was the eleventh piece of jewelry that he'd asked the woman behind the counter to remove from the display case, and it still wasn't right.

Ben had waited until the last possible moment to go Christmas shopping. It wasn't because he'd forgotten or because he'd been so busy he hadn't had time to shop or because he'd been called away on a mission, but rather Ben kept putting it off because he didn't want to think about it.

It was his first Christmas back in the U.S, and it was already proving to be one so different than the ones he'd known before.

Christmas for him in his youth when his mother was alive was filled with light and joy. Each room of his family's mansion strung with tinsel, adorned with holly and festive wreaths, and a Christmas tree so large that it put all others to shame and sent the smell of pine wafting thorough the large home. He remembered the lavish parties his mother threw with women in gorgeous gowns and men dressed in suits taking crystal glasses from silver trays, remembered the warmth in the kitchen as his mother baked and rolled fresh pastry, remembered the taste of the hot chocolate on the tip of his tongue that his mother made him before she sent him to bed on Christmas Eve, and remembered her tight embrace and the smell of her floral perfume on Christmas morning when he'd run down the stairs into the living room.

Ben's jaw tightened.

Christmas without her was different, the large mansion where he lived with his father was cold and dark. The hallways desolate and frozen in the winter months that lead into spring, the kitchen no longer heated by the warmth of the oven or infused with the smell of gingerbread, the parlor no longer tinkling with the sounds of glasses and the laughter of guests, the living room no longer housed a Christmas tree so tall that it made the Eiffel tower look like a trinket, and there were no longer Christmas parties where people danced into the wee hours of the morning and poured themselves into bed smelling of champagne and eggnog.

All that was left was the drunken stupor of his father, the harsh words that echoed down the long hallways, and the urge for Ben to find the nearest bottle and drown himself in it.

Ben spent most of his years as a supe trying to forget the years that followed his mother's death and also his Christmases as a supe washing away the memory of the ones that seemed to be infused with the magic of Christmas in his youth.

Ben spent them at Legend's Christmas party with his woman of the hour clinging to his arm, making painful small talk and waiting until the party turned into a hedonistic thrall of sweat and skin as so many others had. And the next morning when he woke up from the fog, he turned back to the little white line that promised to make him forget and the amber bottle that did little to ease the reality that started to sink in.

But this year was different, because he had you.

You who loved Christmas more than anyone he'd ever met, you who was slowly reminding him how much he used to love Christmas as a child, you who'd dragged him to go Christmas tree shopping before Thanksgiving, you who had encouraged him to help decorate the small apartment the two of you shared with so many Christmas lights it was blinding,  and you who had planned something Christmas themed every week for the past month whether it be baking Christmas cookies or watching Christmas movies while drinking hot chocolate on the couch. And in each moment, you'd found some way to include him in it.

Ben wasn't used to that.

He wasn't used to someone wanting him there with them and someone like you going out of your way to include him in everything you did.

If a person had tried to tell him in the past that he'd ended up with someone like you, someone who smiled easily, someone who always put other people first, someone who actually gave a shit about him, someone who was always so damn warm and welcoming, someone who included in him everything you did in a way that didn't make Ben feel like an old grump, and someone who tried their best to make sure that Ben remembered every day that you wanted him around, he would have laughed in that person's face.

And yet there you were.

Truth be told Ben knew that the old version of him probably wouldn't have let someone like you close to him, let alone fall in love with them.

Ben hadn't met anyone else like you in the numerous years he'd been alive and he really didn't want to fuck it up. He'd fucked up so many other things in his life and he hadn't cared, but if it involved you, he wouldn't dare.

Hence, the current dilemma of him standing in the crowded Tiffany store at 8 pm two days before Christmas with you waiting at home for him to exchange gifts. Ben wanted to pick the perfect gift for you, but nothing felt right.

He'd never given much thought to what to buy someone for Christmas. In the past usually an expensive piece of jewelry, a handbag, a dress, or a car would have made any of Ben's many escapades swoon, but not you. Ben had tried to give you jewelry before, expensive jewelry that would have made any of those other women drop to their knees, but you were different.

And as much as Ben loved that about you, it was only making this worse for him.

The one time that he'd tried to give you a gift outright, a beautiful diamond and emerald drop pendant with earrings to match, you hadn't been impressed. Sure, you'd thought that it was beautiful, but you'd told him that you liked gifts that "meant something."

Whatever the fuck that meant.

And he knew for a fact that the 10 carat diamond necklace on the velvet pillow in front of him would mean nothing to you.

"Fuck." Ben murmured under his breath, and the saleswoman stiffened.

"Still not quite right?" She asks, adjusting the sleeves of her navy blue blazer. "We have some bigger jewel-"

"It's not the fucking size." Ben snaps frustrated.

He was running late.  He knew that you were waiting at home for him to bring back dinner and to give him his present, the one that he was sure would be thoughtful and perfect for him because you were always so damn caring.

The other shoppers were pushing and shoving their way to the counters where other salespeople stood in identical navy blazers and white button down shirts, the tension and buzz of two days to Christmas electrifying the air, while Christmas music that Ben couldn't recognize played in the background.

His supe hearing made it worse. Sometimes it was a bit overwhelming and as much as Ben pretended that he didn't have PTSD, he did. Being surrounded by this many people was not helping. It was in moments like this when you were there, would hold entwine your fingertips with his and brush your thumb gently over the back of his hand to ground him as if you could sense his discomfort.

Ben hadn't ever had someone care enough to notice things like that. Another reason why he wanted to find you the perfect gift, because you put up with all his shit and didn't ask for anything in return.

"Ben?" He hears a familiar voice ask, hesitant, and he turns to see Annie standing a few feet inside the open doorway. S

he's wearing a black puffer jacket and her hair is hidden under a red stocking cap, while Hughie holds the door for her. Hughie's arms were laden down with bags while Annie's remained bare. The winter wind blew in through the space, flecking bits of snow onto the rugs that had been laid out to avoid the customers sliding through the sludge.

"Hey." Ben grunts, not quite smiling.

He wasn't good at talking to your best friend or her boyfriend. Personally he thought that Hughie was a fucking pussy and that he didn't have the balls to tell Annie no, but the one time Ben had told you that, you'd only rolled your eyes and told him that Hughie "loved Annie."

Ben loved you and he did have the balls to tell you no, but Ben thought that sometimes it was better to keep his mouth shut and do what you asked. Not to mention Ben hated saying no to you when it was something that could make you happy. Ben liked making you as happy as you made him. 

He flinched at the thought. The self-deprecating monologue was beginning to seep in, the one that told him you were turning him into a "pussy" and that he should cut and run. The same monologue that made him make a mistake and run back to Vought a few months ago when he should have run to you.

Ben shakes it off.

"What are you doing here? I thought you two were going to leave this morning for Illinois?" Annie asks in surprise used to Ben's grouchy demeanor.

Your grandmother turned Christmas into a two day extravaganza, complete with a Christmas Eve and a Christmas Day party. And although Ben and you were supposed to begin the 14 hour drive to Illinois this morning, your grandmother had insisted the two of you catch a flight first thing tomorrow.

"Decided to catch a flight tomorrow." Ben replies.

Ben was secretly happy, because flying meant that he wasn't going to have to drive 14 hours in the snow. The two of you had driven to Illinois once before, and Ben hadn't minded it. You’d been more upset with him for not letting you drive, but Ben liked driving. Driving meant that he was in control and in an emergency situation he wouldn't have to reach over the console and yank the wheel to save the two of you and driving meant that you could relax in the passenger seat and work on whatever it was you were crocheting.

"Like us!" Hughie flashes Ben a wide smile that Ben doesn't feel the need to return. “You should have told us. We could have all traveled together!”

Ben's frown deepens at the thought at being stuck in a metal tube for hours with Hughie and he knew that if you were here you would probably elbow him in the side and tell him to "be nice." If anyone had ever tried to do that to him in the past, he would have ripped their arm off, but not you.

"Last minute shopping?" Hughie asks trying again.

Ben dragged his eyes over the numerous bags hanging from Hughie's arms. "Yeah. You too?"

"Mhmm. We just finished." Annie replies. Her gaze drops to the diamond necklace on top of the display case that the saleswoman is fiddling with. "Is that for-"

"No. Of course not!" Ben says sharper than he means to, shoulders tensing. But him standing in this store when he knew that you were waiting at home for him to celebrate Christmas made him feel like Annie and Hughie had caught him red-handed. "She doesn't like jewelry." He adds referring to you as he takes a step back from the counter and the sales associate who looks confused.

“But sir-“ The woman begins to say, but Ben waves a hand to shut her up.

"Why do you think that?" Annie asks interrupting the woman.

"Because she yelled at me when I bought her that diamond and emerald necklace!" He shouts so loud that some of the other customers turn to stare at him. "This was a fucking mistake, I have to go-" Ben starts to stomp out the door and past Annie not sure where he's going, but she shifts to stand in his way. His eyes narrow in annoyance, thinking about all the ways that he could move her.

He only put up with Annie because she was your best friend and he knew that if he did anything to her then it would upset you, and Ben didn't like upsetting you.

Well, he did think that it was cute when you got angry with him. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your cheeks turned a cute shade of pink, and your eyes seemed to glow with the force of your anger. There were few people who had the courage to tell him off, but the more you did it, the more he started to like it.

But this was different, and now thinking about you only reminded him of his current dilemma.

"Ben, wait a minute." Annie says.

"What?" He snaps

He could practically feel the seconds ticking away until he had to go back to the apartment. It was the first time that he'd ever dreaded going home and seeing you and fuck he hated every single moment of it.

"She does like jewelry." Annie's mouth drops into a sympathetic smile.

Ben tried not to get more angry when he saw the pitying look in her eye. He didn't need her pity, didn't need anyone's pity! He was still Soldier Boy damnit!

"Then why the fuck did she-"

"She doesn't like this kind of jewelry." Annie clarifies. "She like vintage stuff, simple, refined. Hell, I have to practically drag her away from the display cases at Atomic Archives."

"Atomic Archives?" Ben asks hesitantly. He had no idea what Annie was talking about. You'd never mentioned that place before.

"Yeah, it's our favorite antique store. It’s about two blocks over from where the plant shop used to be.”

"Can you show me where it is?" Ben says it before he can stop himself, his heart surging with hope at the possibility of finding the perfect gift for you.

"I mean I-" Annie begins to say, but Hughie interrupts.

"Babe, didn’t you say that the owner was closed this week because she went out of town?" Hughie asks her, throwing a sympathetic look in Ben's direction that made him bristle.

"Oh, right." Annie sighs.

Ben felt the hope inside pop and deflate like a pricked balloon, but the longer he stood there in the crowded shop, with the ostentatious jewelry twinkling under the lights, the buzz of the chatter of other shoppers, and the ridiculous new-age Christmas music that grated on his ears, he began to have an idea.

"Come on." Ben might have said it as a suggestion, but it wasn’t open for debate. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he needed Annie and unfortunately that meant that Hughie was going to tag along.

"What?" Annie sputtered.

"Come the fuck on. I don’t have time for this." Ben snaps back and stomps out the doorway past Annie and Hughie into the snow.

"But what about-" Hughie begins to say and Ben whirls around to glare at him, eyes narrowing. "Okay you got it. Lead the way buddy." Hughie nods his head in agreement.

"I'm not your fucking buddy." Ben sighs under his breath.

Soldier Boy POV

"This place is really murdery." Ben hears Hughie whisper to Annie from somewhere behind him. "Do you think Ben is going to try to kill us? Should I call Butc-"

"I'm not going to fucking kill you!" Ben snaps, pulling out his keys, the jingle of the metal echoing down the long hallway. "And I guess you really can't make a decision without that British fuck can you?”

The storage unit warehouse was desolate, but that was to be expected, it was after all two days to Christmas and most were more focused on buying things to put in their storage units than moving things out. The lights along the roof of the steel gray hallway flicker and throw long shadows over the navy blue doors of the units doing little to alleviate the creepy aura.

In hindsight Ben did agree that this particular storage space was "murdery," but it was the only one that he could get close to the apartment last minute. The same apartment that Ben has been trying to convince you to move out of.

It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and Ben hated the thought that you'd lived there as long as you had, walking home at night alone before he moved in. Now it wasn't a problem because Ben never let you walk by yourself. And as hard as you'd fought him not to live in a "big fancy apartment" all Ben wanted was to live somewhere where he could imagine staying permanently. Not in a small one bedroom apartment where he had to stoop in the shower, the bed barely fit in the bedroom, and seemed too small for one person let alone two.

He knew that he was wearing you down, but he still had a long way to go.

"Why are we here then?" Hughie asks.

"You're here because your girlfriend wouldn’t come without you.” Ben rolls his eyes as he fits the key into the thick padlock.

He was getting tired of listening to Hughie’s whining. He heard enough of that when he was stuck on missions with him, but he was tolerating him, for the moment at least. He had to, because if he didn't then he was never going to be able to find the perfect gift for you.

The interior of the storage unit isn't anything special. Ben didn't have much that he wanted to keep from his old life, as a supe or from his childhood. The things inside this storage unit were the only things that Ben had left that didn't cause him to be reminded of how his father chastised him or the drafty home that Ben returned to each time he got kicked out of another boarding school.

The mansion that had been in his family for decades had sat abandoned and locked up, hidden from the main roads so it was undisturbed after Ben's father died. Ben had gone to Philadelphia a few months ago to get things in order with the bank and prepare it for sale, but had been surprised when you told him you wanted to come.

He didn't think that you'd want to be involved in something so tedious, but it was almost as if you could sense how hard it was going to be for him, and you'd insisted.

Ben had no intention of setting foot inside, but you were curious and even though it made Ben's throat tight to walk down the dusty cobwebbed halls, the wonder on your face as you walked through made the cold memories of the world he knew before he was a supe fade into the background.

And this storage unit was all that was left of that life.

Ben located the old steamer trunk with ease. It was a faded gray now, but Ben remembered the day his father bought it for his mother. When the grayed sides were a soft supple black, the metal lock and edging were a polished gold, and the rose patterned fabric that lined the inside was soft and covered in bright pink flowers.

When Ben opens the trunk, he catches the smell of the floral perfume his mother used to wear and after all these years it makes him remember the tight hugs she'd give him the moment she sent him off to bed and the tight hugs she'd given him when he rushed down the stairs on Christmas morning.

He didn't like thinking about her or talking about her, but sometimes he would think of her when he was with you. Whenever you did something caring without being asked or whenever you took the time to check in to see how he was doing. Not that you were motherly, just that Ben hadn't had anyone in a long time care about little things like that.

The only other "relationship" he'd tried to have was with Crimson Countess and she didn't do any of the things for him that you did. There wasn't any comparison between the two of you as far as Ben was concerned.

He shakes off the memory the way he always does and moves some of his mother's clothes for the cherry wood carved box that he knows is in the bottom.

He opens it slowly, extracting a small velvet box from within, one of many inside that Ben probably should have taken to the bank ages ago for safe keeping. Ben's father had a tendency to buy things for his mother whenever he "messed up" and the small velvet boxes inside were proof of that.

Ben turns back to where Annie and Hughie are watching with curiosity at the door of the storage unit. "Here."

"Here?" Annie says hesitantly looking at the velvet box in Ben's hand.

"You brought us out here for a box?" Hughie huffs.

Ben narrows his eyes. "No. And if you tell anyone about this I'll turn you inside out, ass-wipe."

"Why do you always have to be so-" Hughie begins to say, but Annie nudges him in the side.

Ben wondered briefly if Annie and Hughie also tried to tolerate him the same way that he tolerated them for you.  

"Wow." Annie says, her voice hushed and reverent when she opens the box with strands of her blonde hair falling out around the hat.

"You think she'll like it?" Ben clears his throat, trying not to wince at the question.

He hated that he was relying on Annie for this or relying on anyone in general. Ben would have rather taken a long walk off a short pier than anyone for help, but he was just so desperate to make sure that the first Christmas the two of you spent together was perfect.

You deserved that and Ben wanted to give it to you.

"She will."

"Good." Ben takes the box back, but decides to bring the wooden box with him back to the apartment just in case. His eyes narrow as he looks over at Hughie. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll shove your head up Butcher's ass. Then again, you two would probably enjoy something like that."

"You're welcome." Annie raises an eyebrow.

"Whatever." Ben mutters.

Reader POV

Ben was late and you were starting to worry.

Not that Ben was always punctual. The man was about as punctual as the White Rabbit, but rather Ben was sure to let you know when he was running late. Not to mention Ben was rarely late to things that he knew were important to you.

And tonight was special or at least you wanted it to be.

You look at your phone again to check the time, noting that it was nearing nine and Ben had told you he was going to be back at eight. You were trying not to think too much about it, busying yourself with other little things, like packing for your trip to your grandmother's home in Illinois. Something that you would have ended up doing about an hour before you had to go to the airport, but you knew that would only annoy Ben.

But you liked annoying him.

Ben's nostrils would flare, his jaw would flex, and the green of his eyes would darken in a way that sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine, but tonight you were too anxiety ridden at how late he was to care about making him annoyed.

Ben and you were supposed to leave this morning to drive the 14 hours to your hometown in Illinois, but you'd called your grandmother a few days ago and asked her if Ben and you could fly in instead.

You wanted the two of you have a Christmas alone before you dragged him back home and made him sit through the two holiday parties your grandmother threw. So you'd planned a quiet Christmas at home where the two of you could drink eggnog, watch some holiday movies, and exchange gifts before Ben was subjected to every single person you'd known since you were six.

But Ben didn’t seem to mind any of that.

Regardless, you were going all out this Christmas. It was Ben's first since he'd come back to the States and you wanted it to be perfect and it was the first Christmas the two of you were spending together as a couple.

The anxious energy that thrummed through your veins reached out into the numerous plants in your apartment, that shifted and stirred as your powers coaxed them forward. The vines that crept along the walls shook with an unnatural breeze, the Christmas tree grew an inch taller, the mistletoe hanging above the front door grew another few shimmering berries, the blackberry and raspberry vines that hung over your refrigerator fidgeted and wove together into a curtain while the tomato plant in the garden box above your sink dropped bright red fruit onto the counter, and the orange/lemon tree that sat behind your kitchen table blocking the view of the alley beyond shook it's branches for a moment. You could feel everything alive in your apartment leaning towards you as if waiting for your silent command.

Rex, the creature you'd created from broken vines and trampled leaves four months ago, flicks his eyes over to you sensing the same disturbance the rest of the plants inside could.

You bite the inside of your cheek fighting your urge to check your phone even though you know that less than a minute has passed since you'd last checked. Instead you fiddle with the ribbon on the lumpy wrapped gift that is perched on your lap.

Shopping for Ben had been difficult to say the least.

You weren't sure what to get your 104 boyfriend who'd lived as a hedonistic playboy for most of his life and you didn't like giving gift cards (you didn't think Ben would understand the concept) or giving people meaningless trinkets that they used once and then threw away (the Grinch was right about some things). You liked giving gifts that you put time and effort into that you were sure the recipient was going to love.

And you were sure that the package on your lap contained the perfect gift and you were excited to see the look on Ben's face when he unwrapped it.

Your cat Bean purrs where he sits beside you on the couch and Rex your, for lack of a better word, Dragon was watching the multicolored lights on the Christmas tree in the corner blink on and off.

It was bigger for your apartment than it should be, but Ben had insisted on getting it and you couldn't complain. Not when he genuinely seemed to be happy to stand there in the snow picking out a tree with you.

And after when no Uber driver agreed to pick the two of you up because of the tree, Ben had carried it on his shoulder fifteen blocks while you begged him to let you help. When you'd tried to take some of the tree, Ben had shifted it to his other shoulder and taken your hand instead, which wasn't what you meant when you reached out towards him, but you didn't let go, not when it was cold and Ben's hand was warm.

The one jammed into the corner of your small living room didn't have a leaf out of place or any signs of decay. You'd fixed that with a flick of a finger.

You'd gone all out with decorations.

Every plant in your apartment had lights of their own and ornaments that swung just out of reach from your pets. Christmas lights were strung down the hallway and there was a wreath on your bedroom door. Strands of mistletoe hung over every doorway in your apartment and there was one taped to the wall above your bed. That one was Ben's doing, but you couldn't complain, not when it felt so damn good to kiss him.

Ben hadn't spoken about the Christmases he spent in the past, but he'd listened to you talk about your Christmases growing up when the two of you decorated the tree with ornaments you'd collected over the years.

He might not have been big on sharing, but your boyfriend was good at listening. Not just pretending to listen, but actually being quiet and wanting to learn more about what you're saying. You'd thought it was odd when you became roommates and you realized just how much Ben listened and remembered what you told him, but now it was one of the reasons that made you love your boyfriend more.

You sighed, a happy smile on your face. You didn't think that you could feel this way about anyone, let alone someone you hated for so long, but you did. Ben was changing the belief you had about what relationships should look like, and you were sure that you were doing the same for him.

You hear the jingle of keys and the fumble of the doorknob as Ben slowly opens the front door and you leap from the couch.

"You're home!" You exclaim as your body hits his full speed, but he doesn't move. It was difficult for you to produce enough force to move him, difficult for anyone really.

Ben chuckles "Miss me Petals?"

He moves the plastic bag of Chinese food to his left hand so he can hug you back, his right hand fitting comfortably over the small of your back to hold you tighter against him.

You could remember the first time you hugged him, when all he did was stand there with his hands at his sides awkwardly while you held on to him as tight as you could. This was better. Ben's embrace is warm and strong, unyielding, but full of the love that he’d had such a hard time admitting.

"Yes." You squeeze him hard, smiling into his jacket that's flecked with melting snow, cold against your skin, but the warmth of his body soaks through the chill and into you. You sigh, nuzzling further into him. "I was worried-"

"Why?" Ben's voice rumbles through his chest, against your cheek.

"Because you weren't home yet." You pull back to stare up at him. His brilliant green eyes catch in the multicolored strands of Christmas lights, strung through your apartment. There's snow caught in his dark hair, turning to water and dripping down into his face in the warmth of the apartment.

Ben frowns. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're here now." You smile arching up to kiss him. Ben groans into your mouth, his grip on you tightening as he deepens the kiss, pressing the hand on the small of your back just a little more to secure you against his chest.

You sigh softly, content in living in this moment with him for another few precious seconds. The heat of his body transferring into you the longer you stand pressed against him, soaking through your sweatpants and chunky sweater in the best way.

You'd never felt this way about anyone in the past. There hadn't been another boyfriend who'd treated you the way Ben did, no other boyfriend who'd cared about the little things, and no other boyfriend who you were so in love with. Even your first love so long ago faded into the background, the one you thought you'd never get over, and all that was left was Ben.

You're too excited about giving Ben his gift to eat. You sit cross-legged on the plush gray couch so close to him that your knees are touching the outside of his thigh as Ben places the boxes of food onto your coffee table. The anxious energy tingling in the pit of your stomach and buzzing in your chest so much that it's difficult to sit still.

And before Ben can give you your chopsticks, you thrust the lumpy wrapped package onto his lap with a wide smile.

"You first!" You say.

Ben shakes his head. "It should be ladies first."

“I’m not a lady Ben. We both know that-“

“Sorry sweetheart that’s the way it goes.”

“Don't be so old fashioned Gramps. It's 2024.” You roll your eyes at him, laughing at the cute frown that pulls at his lips when you use the nickname. Ben never liked it, but when you'd first met, Ben hadn't told you his real name, and you'd assigned him the nickname and it had stuck when you realized how much it annoyed him.

That was when he did everything in his power to annoy you as well, so it seemed like a good fit.

In all honesty, you didn't hate how old fashioned Ben was, if anything it was a relief, a reprieve from the way the modern boys treated women. It was nice to finally be with a man who actually gave a shit about you and cared what you wanted.

"And I really want you to open yours first." You plead as you lean towards him. "Oh, and this goes with it."

You reach down behind the couch to grab the small golden barrel cactus, avoiding the sharp yellow spines, and place it on the minimal space left on the coffee table. You'd crocheted a dark green sleeve to go around the terra cotta pot.

"You got me a cactus?" Ben snorts.

"I mean, I have so many plants in here and I thought that you'd want one that was yours. Plus, you'll never have to water it." You gesture with one hand to the numerous plants around the room, the ones bathed in the multicolored lights from the Christmas Tree, the ones with bright green leaves that unfurled towards the light, the others with hanging vines that trailed to the ground so thick that you couldn't remember the color of the wall, the apple tree with ripe red fruit, and the numerous herbs in the garden box that hung over your kitchen sink. "And I gave it a sweater."

"Why did you give it a sweater?"

"It’s used to a warm climate and because I had some yarn left over."

"From?"

"You're just going to have to open your gift and find out." You shrug, but can barely contain your excitement.

Ben shakes his head at you, but a smile twitches on the corner of his lips. You knew that your boyfriend loved you because you were different than anyone he'd ever met, and you reveled in that. You liked that even though Ben was older than you,  that no matter how many other experiences he'd had in his life,  you were a first for him just as Ben was a first for you.

He rips through the paper carefully, trying hard not to ruin what was inside, the sound of crinkling and tearing blocking out the Christmas playlist for a moment that you'd put on before Ben had come home, but you can hear the ABBA song clear as day.

For a moment he stares down at the gift not quite comprehending what the lumpy mass in his lap is, but then he picks it up.

It had taken a month for you to pick out the perfect dark green yarn that was soft but not too soft, green but not too green, and another two months for you to finish it when Ben wasn't home, but you were proud of the sweater that you'd made your boyfriend.

He stares at it for another few beats, holding it up to the light, and it makes you worry that maybe you should have bought him something at the mall instead.

"You made me a sweater?" He asks, there's something on the edge of his voice that you can't place, some traces of emotion that you're not able to identify.

"Yeah. I wanted to make you something." You clear your throat, worried. "I mean- you don't have any and I know that you keep saying you run a little warm, but I figured we're going to Illinois for Christmas and it might be cold."

Ben doesn't say anything and you start to feel the self-doubt come roaring in.

Why did I make him a sweater? I should have bought him some cologne or something.

"And you complained when Butcher sent you on that mission to Alaska last month and I just thought that-“ You press your lips into a tight line, shoulders drooping. “If you don't like it I can keep it for me-" You fumble, but before you can finish, Ben yanks you into his lap.

His hands cup your cheeks as he kisses you so fiercely that it wipes any doubts from your mind. You make a surprised sound in the back of your throat, but sink into the kiss.  “Don’t you fucking dare.” Ben mutters against your lips.

Your blush burns against your face. “You like it?”

He nods. “ No one’s ever made me anything before.” His voice comes out a little bit gruff, as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, but it makes you smile.

“I figured and I wanted to change that.” Your fingertips dance over his forehead, brushing away the hair that’s fallen forward before your hand drops to cup his cheek, feeling the scratch of his beard against the palm of your hand. “But you’re sure you like it?”

Ben kisses you again, his large hands settling on your hips with an encouraging squeeze. “I do.”

“Good. Merry Christmas.” You wrap your arms around the back of his neck to hug him for a minute, sinking into his embrace with a happy smile.

"Merry Christmas doll." Ben murmurs into your hair, affection lacing his words.

Again, you send a mental thank you to your grandmother for understanding that Ben and you needed a day to be together and celebrate the way you wanted to before coming to stay. Not that you didn't like the Christmas Eve party or the Christmas day party, but you wanted to give Ben this. You noticed that Ben still had a hard time being in places with a lot of people when the PTSD came roaring back, and you wanted to show him what Christmas meant to you and hopefully show what Christmas would look like between the two of you as long as you were together.

“Sweetheart you gotta open yours now.” Ben’s voice rumbles, the warmth of his breath on your ear. It makes a pleasurable shiver thrill skate down your spine when you think of all the other times the two of you have been this close.

“It’s okay I can wait.” You hum into his throat, content, but Ben won't give in.

He pushes you back gently from his chest shaking his head. “Too bad. It's your turn."

"Fine." You start to move back to the space beside him, but Ben's hands catch on your hips to stop you.

"I didn't say I wanted you to move did I?" His smile turns more smirk.

"I-"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I like having you on top of me?" Ben purrs, kissing under your jaw, his beard scratching in a way that makes your throat tight.

"Keep doing that and the only thing I'm going to unwrap is you." You sigh in a half-moan, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck.

"After." Ben leans back to reach into his coat pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box that fits in the palm of your hand.

You hesitate to open it.

It wasn't that you didn't want jewelry for Christmas, it was that Ben and you had done this song and dance before after he tried to make you wear a diamond and emerald necklace with jewels bigger than your index, middle, and third finger put together. The whole time you wore it the only thing you could think about is how many groceries you could have bought with the necklace, how much you were afraid that it was going to break, and how much you feared that you were going to lose it or someone was going to try and steal it.

Maybe that was ridiculous, but extravagant gifts never appealed to you. You liked gifts that meant something, gifts that were heartfelt and thoughtful, gifts like the bookshelf Ben had gotten you months ago before you were dating because he noticed you needed one. Not to mention you loved just spending time with Ben. If he hadn't gotten you anything you would have been content with just sitting with him on the couch and watching a Christmas movie.

But you smile, because you don't want to hurt his feelings and because it's his first Christmas in forty years and you wanted it to be special.

It's Christmas and I will be thankful and happy with whatever he got me, because Ben was thinking of me when he bought it.

You think to yourself as you open the box.

The first thing you notice is that the box isn't as new as you thought, the inside of the lid is printed in ancient script that's a little faded, worn against the aged white silk that lines it. Your eyes drift to the piece of jewelry nestled on the pillow. It's a silver locket, hexagon shaped, and about the size of your thumb. The face is printed with weaving ivy leaves and roses that reach to a simple plain border.

Simple, stately, and completely you.

Ben is uncharacteristically quiet, but he breaks the silence first. "Do you-" He clears his throat, "Do you like it?"

He asks it hesitantly, as if he's afraid to hear your answer. It was unusual for Ben to look so nervous.

You can only nod, any words you had stuck in the back of your throat. Your fingernail finds the seam between the two pieces of metal and you gently unlatch the locket to see the picture inside. There's a piece of glass protecting a yellowed photo of a little boy who looks no more than five standing in a small black suit. You didn't think that they made suits for kids that small. He's smiling and one of his teeth are missing, but he looks oddly familiar.

"Who is this?" You ask. The more you look at the photo the more you think that you've seen him before.

"It's me." He says it quiet, almost a whisper.

"You? But-"

"It was my mother's." He clarifies and you inhale sharply in surprise.

"Really?"

He nods once, looking uncomfortable. By now you knew that moments like this usually made your boyfriend uncomfortable no matter how many times that you'd told him that he didn't have to be uncomfortable about being vulnerable. He was getting a little better, slowly, very slowly.

"Oh Ben I don't know if I should-" You shake your head, afraid to touch something so old.

Ben didn't often speak about his mother, but when he did, it was always reverent and respectful. You could see in his eyes how much he had loved her and how much he had cared about her. His father, Ben also didn't like talking about, but Ben never spoke of his father with the kindness that he'd spoke about his mother.

And you didn't want to take something like this away from him, something that meant so much to him, because of how much he loved his mother.

"No. I-" He clears his throat and Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "I want you to have it."

"But-" You stutter.

"What else am I going to do with it Petals? Can't exactly wear it myself." Ben chuckles, but the humor doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s your mom’s and I-“ You trail off still looking at the photo of Ben as a little boy. He had the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes that you loved, the same unruly dark hair, but there was something different about him. He looked happier. It was the same look that Ben had when it was just the two of you together, the happiness that you wanted Ben to feel the rest of his life when he understood what it was like to be loved and cherished.

And it made you understand that the last time Ben must have felt loved and cherished was when his mother was still alive. It broke your heart to know that Ben had lived all these years without her and missed that in his life.

The locket was beautiful and the fact that Ben remembered what you said about liking gifts that “meant something” made your heart flutter.

Because this meant something. Ben taking the time to go through his mother’s jewelry and pick something out just for you that was special to him that he wanted to share with you, meant more than the emerald and diamond necklace he had tried to give you months ago.

There were tears burning behind your eyes the more you look at the photo of the little boy.

Ben is watching you. “Well-“ He shrugs. “I'm an only child. Which means I don't have any siblings who have wives to fight over this stuff so, I figured that if anyone was going to get it, it should be you. If you don't take it, it'll sit in that fucking storage unit. Seems like a shame."

You don't answer.

"And-" He hesitates, "I think my mom would have wanted you to have it. Hell, she might have given it to you, if I'd brought you home to meet her."

Your cheeks flush.

Ben studies you for another minute, before you watch his smile twitch into a frown. "Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have gotten you jewelry.  Annie said that you liked jewelry, but I told her you didn't and now the bitch is probably having a good laugh with that pussy of a boyfriend! Forget about it sweetheart, I'll go get you something else right now-" Ben tries to take the box from you, but you swat his hand away.

“Don't you fucking dare!” You shout, using the same words that he said to you when you tried to take his sweater away.

"But you don't like it-"

"I do!  And knowing how much this means to you, makes it better."

"Really?"

You nod, a wide smile wiping away any uncertainty in his gaze. "Will you help me put it on?"

"Sure." Ben says gruffly. His voice has lowered a little, and you know that it's a mixture of pride and love mingling in the tone. It made something break open deep inside and flood your ribcage with love.

You turn your neck to the side, pulling your hair away from the skin as Ben hooks the chain together at the nape of your neck.  The cool metal of the necklace against your skin and the weight are unfamiliar, but you already knew that you wouldn’t be taking it off anytime soon. "It's perfect!" You pull Ben in for a kiss, threading your fingers into his dark hair.

Ben smiles into your mouth, holding you tight against him as if he never wants to let you go and you don't want him to.

It was odd to think that you'd only been together for four months, but you couldn't imagine your life without him. It seemed ridiculous for you to think that Ben was it after such a short time, but he was. You'd never rushed into anything in your entire life, but then Ben was there shattering every expectation that you had, enough to make you throw your inhibitions to the wind and jump feet first into the unknown if it meant he was with you.

The kiss is softer than the one the two of you shared at your front door, filled with more emotion than Ben usually let the world see, but he was opening up bit by bit, learning that you wouldn't judge him for that and it made you feel sky high.

This was the relationship you'd always wanted, and you never thought that you'd have it with Ben, but now that you were here you wouldn't change a thing, because it wouldn’t have put you in his arms.

"You can change the picture." Ben murmurs into your lips.

"No way. I don't have any kid photos of you. And I'm pretty sure you'll see all of mine this week.”

“I bet you were cute.” Ben smiles, raising one of the hands from your hip to push your hair from your face. “Hard to imagine you being any other way sweetheart.” 

"Debatable." You sigh, nipping at his bottom lip in a way that makes Ben pull you back to him.

And when the kiss turns hungry, with you gripping his hair so tight you'd be sure that it would hurt anyone else, and with his fingers pushing up the bottom of your t-shirt to feel the warmth of your skin against his hands and find the dips and curves of your body that make you moan into his mouth, you can't help but think that this is the best Christmas you'd ever had.

"I do think it's later sweetheart." Ben's eyes shine with mischief, mouth pulling into the familiar smirk that makes your knees weak.

"Good. Because I have one other gift for you." You moan as Ben's mouth trails down to your jaw, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin, in a way that drives you mad.

"It's not another plant is it?" He bites just under your jaw and you tighten your hands in his hair, gasping softly.  "Fuck, I love those sounds you make baby." Ben murmurs.

"No." You've lost all ability to form sentences, not when he's so perfectly warm and the trail of his hands working up your abdomen consumes you.

"Give it to me later." Ben's eyes flash a startling green. "I want to unwrap my favorite gift right now."

"Keep going the way you are, and you're gonna find it."

Ben hesitates, before he raises his hand to feel the end of the brand new lingerie that you'd bought special for tonight, his eyes darkening with the realization. "Well then, Merry Christmas to me."

Ben's mouth falls against yours, but before he goes further, he pulls back just for a moment, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. Your eyes widen in surprise.

"Ben?" You question. 

"Merry Christmas Petals." He whispers, dragging his thumb over your cheek, and nudges his nose against yours in a gesture that warms your heart. He didn’t do things like that often, but whenever he did it always stood out to you, because it added on another layer to the man you loved with all your heart.

"Merry Christmas Ben."

A/N: I thought that they deserved a little Christmas fluff. I'm hoping that I have time to drop a follow up to this before Christmas, because I kinda want to write what happens when they go back to Illinois, but we'll see what happens! ❤️

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 🥰

Taglist for Take A Chance On Me:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78

@spxideyver @zepskies @impala67stellawinchester

@reidtomewinchester @samanthadegaro @glossy01 @nikimisery

@tunnelvisionlove @incandxscents @winchester-stark @samahanta

@melonmochi

@kamisobsessed @whichwitchwanda @karolina-12110905 @jcollins03-blog

@pixviee @filmologetica @yvonneeeee @c1nnamong1rl29 @kmc1989

@livya99 @cherrygirl444 @tulipsvanilla @angrydragon90 @chi-raz

[repulsive-manwhore]

PREVIOUS CHAPTER HERE 🔗

why are you such a stupid fucking cunt?

"PLEASEEEE! please, i'm begging you... i'm fucking begging you please let me out!!"

"i'm not letting you out of there... not until you tell me what the fuck you meant by that. what do you mean you know who i am, huh? HUH?!"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"PLEAAAAAASE!!!"

"you're not getting out of there, i put a fucking chair under the doorknob. besides, if you broke out what are you gonna do? i have a gun, you stupid bitch."

"...what do you want?"

"i want you to tell me the truth... tell me my name."

god dammit...

"i- i don't... know your name..."

"y'know i have to ask, just for shits and giggles... do you think i'm a fucking retard or something? who says 'i know who you are' and DOESN'T mean that? hmm?!"

just come clean, there's no point, you're just pissing him off further. he knows that you know. you have to tell him... but maybe...

"...okay, i'll say your name... under one condition..."

"you really think you're in the position right now to make conditions? no, tell me my fucking name. right now."

"you tell me why you're stalking me."

"...why the fuck does it matter?"

"i wanna know. i have to. otherwise i don't care you can just kill me right now, i don't care."

"that's a lie."

"no it's not."

yes it is.

"i can make your life a lot harder you know, the same way you just made my life harder tonight. dragging me into a fucking mu-"

"DON'T... don't say it out loud."

and there it is. leverage. you can tell he didn't wanna kill that cop. you saw it in his face when he first walked into that motel with you. he doesn't need more blood on his hands, he wants you, he HAS you. and now he's stuck with you, because he can't kill you. he stalked you for a reason... why would he throw you away?

"...your name is Ryan."

"go on, don't be shy. i have a last name too."

"...Matherson. Ryan Matherson..."

it got quiet. reaaaaal quiet. oh fuck, the doorknob...

CREAAAAAAAK.

...why is he just standing there? what's he gonna do... why am i fucking wet right now? oh that's right, because you're crying on the floor looking up at this absolute monster of a man, and for whatever fucked up reason you just always have to fall for me the fucki-

"get up. let's go."

"...why, where are you taking me? are you gonna ki-"

CLASP.

"I SAID, NOT OUT LOUD!"

"mmmmph! mmmmph, mhm, mhm..."

yes, yes i promise i'm sorry! i'm sorry, i'll fucking listen to you... god, your hands... your big, strong, calloused, veiny ha- stop stop stop stop stop... stop that. just nod.

"good. i don't wanna fucking kill you, alright? i never wanted to, this was NEVER supposed to happen... but we gotta get out of here, okay? and if you try to run i have to... you know what i fucking did, to you, to him. you run and tell and i get locked away forever. i won't let that happen, even if it means i have to do it to you... i don't want to... please?"

he does have a heart... somewhere at least.

"i promise... i won't run just tell me what to do."

"good... good. i can't take you to the front desk like this. i'm sorry but i have to keep you locked in here."

"what? no! why can't i just wait in your car or something?!"

"again, do i really have to ask if you think i'm an idiot?"

he's right, your dumbass would try and hotwire that motherfucker while he checks out and you'd just end up in a ditch somewhere in rural Wisconsin if he left you to your own devices.

"alright fine! just... can i maybe have a snack please while i wait for you? i'm really hungry..."

"i'll get us some food when we go. in the meantime, eat the fuckin complimentary toothpaste for all i care. it'll be like 15 minutes, you'll live."

SLAM!

wow, thanks asshole. lemme guess, if i'm thirsty i can just drink out of the toilet right? you'd probably like that too, sick fuck... okay that's definitely projection cmon now.

"you said 15 minutes right?!"

"yes... 15 minutes. just hang tight. promise, i'll be right back..."

"okay... and you better tell me why you kidnapped me okay? DO YOU HEAR M-"

SLAM!

UGH! fucking jerk... alright, fine, you're all alone now. just wait for him... you really shouldn't be alone right now you know. you always get so sad when you're alone. he should be here with you right now...

...fucking your little victim brains out.

[hootshooch]

Age Headcanons

I want to share my HCs for all the companion's ages (both so I can reference this later and because it's just fun). Aside from the canon numbers we have, these are just my personal opinions! But If I've gotten any canon information wrong please correct me and I'll edit it :-)

Astarion: 339 (physically 139)

Gale: 36

Halsin: 350

Jaheria: 155

Karlach: 27

Lae'zel: 22

Minsc: 149 (physically 65)

Shadowheart: 48

Wyll: 24

(I'm not including Minthara because Wyll and my Durge killed her in two turns using Hold Person and Searing Smite in my current playthrough so I have never recruited her before nor know much about her character so I can't make an educated guess about her age. Sorry.)

Explanations under the cut!

Astarion

Gale

I think his gravestone (the dates that say he was 39 when he died) is total BS and was just a mistake left in from when Astarion's race wasn't decided on during development (I know he was a tiefling at one point).

Idle Champions seems to confirm this because his age is listed as 350 on his card (meaning he was approximately 150 when he died). BUT, since Halsin also says he is 350 years old, I think it would be incredibly unlikely and sort of weird if two of the three recruitable Elves were the exact same age, so I rounded down so his age does align more with his in-game gravestone. However, unless someone made another mistake, 350 is (probably) his canon age.

Apparently there's conflicting information about what his age is listed as on Idle Champions too. Maybe it changed or something? I don't know. Regardless it makes the most sense to me if he's over 300 years old.

I know this might be an unpopular opinion but I actually do not believe that Mystra groomed Gale (though I think she IS abusive to all her Chosen, Gale included–but that is NOT what "grooming" means. Not in the way people are using the term. She just took advantage of him). Gale said she first appeared to him when he was a "young man" and Mystra was dead up until 1479 DR. It's very unlikely she went straight for Gale the moment she gained consciousness and Gale is visibly greying by the time you meet him (and I know some people theorize that it's just the netherese orb aging him from the stress, but I personally don't think that's what is happening). I think at MINIMUM he was 22 when Mystra first appeared to him and is in his mid-thirties now.

Halsin

He explicitly tells the player he's 350. As far as I'm aware he's actually the ONLY companion who ever gives an actual number for his age in the game, too.

Jaheira

She says she was a "young child" during the Ten Black Days of Elient in Tethyr (1347 DR) and I think it's safe to assume that "young" probably means anywhere from 10 years old to a baby. BUT she also says in the first Baldur's Gate game (set in 1368 DR), Jaheira says that she and Khalid have been married for 8 years and together for 10. I really don't think that the two of them got married as teenage harpers (at least I hope not), but it DOES seem like Jaheira got married young and was never really with anyone else before or after him (I do not consider Jaheira's romance with Gorion's Ward in BG2 to be canon, sorry). So that means she's was probably in her early 30s during the first two games. I just decided on 155 (making her 31-32 in the first two games) since that makes Jaheira only 20 years older than my Dark Urge (Alias, 135 years old) and it's infintely funnier when she makes fun of her for being old because they're both practically the same age.

Karlach

I know most people place her in her early 30s, but I honestly think she was younger when Gortash sent her off to Avernus. The age of majority in most of the Sword Coast is 16 and Karlach specifically refers to herself as "a kid" when she was working for Gortash. She was also still living with her parents at the time and says that she was working to make enough money to move them to the Lower City—and to me the way she says that doesn't seem like she was trying to give back to her parents as an adult but she was still actually a teenager who NEEDED to work because her parents didn't make enough money. I absolutely do not think Gortash is above hiring a poor teenager from a lower class district to be a bodyguard before selling her into compulsory enlistment. In fact that's exactly the kind of thing he'd do. I personally think she started working for him when she was around 16 and stayed there for a few years max before Gortash screwed her over (being in Avernus for a decade), so she's in her late 20s now. I like the idea of her being closer in age to Wyll so I just HC that her birthday is late in the year and "10 years" is more of a rough estimate of how long she was there rather than an exact timeframe (how was she keeping track of time in Avernus, anyway? did time even go by at the same rate in a different plane of existence?)

Lae'zel

She says that she's never been to the Astral before the game begins and she was trying to obtain a mindflayer head so she would be allowed to do so (which I think is a social coming-of-age for githyanki, based on how she talks about it). She's definitely the youngest. Her Idle Champions card says she's 22 and that seems right to me so that's the age I put.

Minsc

We know he was petrified in Baldur's Gate in 1409 DR, but beyond that, his timeline is kind of weird. In the first Baldur's Gate game he was on his dajemma (Rashemaar coming-of-age journey) with Dynaheir. Fyodor first went on his dajemma when he was fifteen and didn't return to Rashemen until he was nineteen. Minsc believes his dajemma was never truly complete because of Dynaheir's death (despite the Iron Lord saying otherwise), so I he must have been YOUNG before during the first two games (despite being bald and appearing older in his original portrait). Considering he was undergoing a coming-of-age ritual, he can't have been any older than 25 in the first two games (and that's only if he was adventuring an especially long time, but that seems to be the case). So he's about a century and a half in BG3, give or take, and physically in his mid-sixties (around the time he was petrified).

Shadowheart

I've seen a surprising amount of people mislabel Shadowheart as 40, but she says (in ambient dialogue) that Viconia was recording information about her INSIDE the cloister for 40 years of her life and in the flashback where she is kidnapped she looked around the same age as Arabella (who tells who she is nine and a half if you're evil enough to let Kagha kill her and use Speak with Dead on her). So she's actually closer to 50. Her Idle Champions card says she's 48 specifically so that's the age that I've gone with because that lines up with everything that we know.

Wyll

In the game, he says he was 17 when his father kicked him out and he was in "exile" for 7 years, so that places him at 24. His Idle Champions card says this, too. (fun fact: this also means he was 14 when Murder in Baldur's Gate takes place and Gorion's Ward dies).

[fishsticksloser]

Megumi SFW HCs

Warnings: opinions, fluff, slight spoilers

A/N: Gumi is my spirit animal... Requests are still open!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He doesn't seem very affectionate.

Over all he's not very touchy, normally showing his love with quality time, just enjoying time with his partner.

Especially after the last battle, he's very touch adverse, scared that Sukuna hasn't left and that he'll hurt his partner. He feels very icky, making touch feel like pin pricks...

At least for a while anyways.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his partner's hands. He enjoys holding them, massaging them. He likes playing with their fingers when he's anxious, often doing it unconsciously as well.

He doesn't really favor any part of him. He uses his hands a lot with his sorcery so he'd probably just say that.

But overall, he doesn't really have a reason.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Not really?

Megumi isn't against it, sometimes there are just days where he needs it, but he doesn't go out of his way to get cuddles.

If his partner wants them, he will give them though.

He finds that his partner laying on top of him is the most comfortable, leaving his arms free so he can read or something.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He does, especially after the last battle. He doesn't want to fight anymore. He wants to have a normal life or at least one as normal as possible given he's a sorcerer.

He's very clean, making sure every space he was is cleaner than he got it. And he's a decent cook.

He can learn pretty quick and has been taught a few recipes by Yuji.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Blunt as hell.

There's no sugarcoating, no comfort.

If it was done to protect his partner, he stews on it afterwards, wanting to go running back, but he knows its better this way. He knows they deserve better.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He things commitment is a good thing, but not something he's been capable of.

Megumi is not going from partner to partner by any means, but he feels like his sorcery keeps him from being able to commit. What if something happens to his partner? He can't protect everyone.

If he is able to, he waits at least 2 years, giving them plenty of time to leave if needed. He also waits until he and his partner have a deep conversation about where this is going.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically he's pretty gentle, though he can be rough too. (ie smacking Yuji) He will never outright hurt his partner, but if they're playing around, he can get pretty rough.

Emotionally he is very rough. He doesn't really like sugarcoating things, valuing communication over feelings. BUT! He can get pretty sentimental, his voice and words soft. This is very rare though.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He's not the biggest fan, but he also doesn't turn them down.

He only gives hugs if someone asks or if they force him into one (Yuji).

They're normally loose, especially if he doesn't want or know the person. But they do tighten, squeezing the person a little tighter than you'd think.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Never...

Well... At least it feels like it. Megumi is very anxious about saying it, worried that once he does, everything will change.

When he does, it's in passing in hopes his partner doesn't notice. He feels so nervous saying it, he wants it to feel natural, unnoticeable.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He doesn't get jealous so much as he gets insecure.

Megumi can definitely get jealous, but he's more worried that his partner will leave him because he's broken and unwell.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He loves kissing his partner's lips, but also their cheeks. The way the scrunch up, how soft they are...

He likes when his partner kisses his face, anywhere on his face. It makes him feel grounded.

They're normally soft and sweet.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He's not great with kids.

They're sticky and gross. Coughing with their mouths open like that? EW

But does he want kids...? He's not really against the idea.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He's up and moving

He has things to do, people to see, so he has to get up pretty early.

He'll kiss his partner before he leaves, sending them a small text to brighten their morning when they wake up.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Megumi joins his partner's nighttime routine.

He enjoys the intimacy and closeness. He may not do exactly what they do, but there are a lot of small touches and giggles as they get ready for bed.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He's pretty standoffish.

The simpler things (favorite color and such) he'll share

But he takes a while to get into the deeper stuff.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has a fairly short temper, but its also a choice few things that really set him off.

When he is angry, he normally gets pretty quiet when he's angry, trying to get it under control before he snaps.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

This man keeps it all in a notebook that he keeps hidden from prying eyes.

It has every little important thing his partner has every said, shown interest in, etc.

He has a pretty good memory, but it helps to write it down.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first kiss

Taking his partner on the first big date

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Very protective

Megumi does everything in his power to protect his partner. They're his everything.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Dates, anniversaries, gifts... He doesn't put a whole lot of effort into, it's just not how he shows love. But if its something very very special, he'll put in a lot of effort.

Everyday tasks, he gives it his all.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He bites his nails a lot, so they're in bad shape. It's a habit he's been trying to break.

Megumi also has a habit of pulling his hair when he's overwhelmed, then shutting down afterwards.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not overly worried.

He'll dress up nice for his partner, enjoying how excited they get.

He normally looks pretty nice anyways, but he puts in a lot of extra to make sure when needed.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He knows he can live without his partner, he knows that.

But he definitely doesn't want to.

He feels incomplete, but he knows that's just a symptom of his partner not being around.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

While he's very quiet, Megumi takes in everything.

He has a habit of always make sure he knows he knows what's going on, eavesdropping unintendedly.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Don't mess with him like Gojo does, that is reserved for Gojo himself.

Don't assume things. It makes him angry, especially if it means embarrassing him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

If he has a nightmare, he can't wake up by himself, he needs help.

But most of the time, he just cuddles close, sleeping soundly.

He's a light sleeper though, so small noises can wake him.

[paperyowl]

Okay, I really need to make this into an actual story, but let me just write this idea down before I forget: Imagine Annie walking into S.W.A.T. headquarters, with all of the 20-squat (and the 50-squat) already knowing about the divorce Deacon and her are getting, but before anyone knowing about Rocker.

The team is surprised to see her - Luca even calls out a greeting which she ignores completely - and even more surprised when she walks right past them and up to Rocker, who's working on a screen in the corner - he turns to her when he sees her approach, not saying anything.

When Annie gets close enough, she slaps Rocker across the face hard enough for his head to snap to the side. Shock ripples through the room, and no one moves for long moments, too stunned to do anything.

Rocker hardly even reacts, standing very still and keeping his face blank even as he looks back at her. That only makes her angry - she moves as if to slap him again, but Deacon catches her wrist with a furious glance - he all but drags her to the break room.

He kind of hears Rocker respond to Luca behind him, "It's all good. I'm going to get cleaned up", but the flat tone makes Deacon's heart clench and something furious roars in his chest.

Annie stumbles behind him. He only lets Annie go when the door closes behind them. Annie has tears in her eyes.

"Him?" she asks, voice small. "Why him?"

And Deacon has so many responses for that, but all he can think about is how she just went and assaulted Rocker, how they are both so far off the rails now - and when did this happen?

He still loves her. He does.

But this.

"Leave him out of this."

"How can I, when-"

"Annie, "the shape of her name was sharp in his mouth. Cutting. "Do you understand what you just did? "

"I slapped the man who-"

"You attacked an officer. "

Annie stilled for a moment. "I didn't. "

"Yes, you did. Do you understand that he can get you arrested for that? "

She splutters, and then her face does something complicated—and Annie is just so hurt after everything, and maybe Deacon should have tried harder. Except he'd tried so hard—for so long—Rocker hadn't been the reason for his decision—not by a long shot.

But he's all the reason that Deacon aches now, and he desperately needs to check on him.

"Stay here. Please, "Deacon pleads with Annie. "I'll be right back. "

And there is love between them still because Annie nodded and looked almost ashamed about the whole thing. She apologizes, and even if it means nothing to Deacon right then, he nods (if she's slapped him, that would have been understandable- but Rocker doesn't deserve this.)

When he walks out, Deacon passes Hondo but no one else, and thank god for that everyone else is back at work. Hondo points him down the hall to the bathroom in the back. Deacon thanks him and goes before Hondo can say anything else - but Deacon is sure he hasn't heard the last of that.

When he steps into the bathroom, Rocker looks up, meeting Deacon's eyes in the mirror. Deacon can't read the first expression on his face, but it melts away too quickly for him to focus on it.

What he can focus on is the way that Rocker looks: His cheek is red, and there is a line of split skin just below his eye like a nail had caught him. When Rocker spits into the sink, it is bloody. That fact startles Deacon, but it's not a lot - it's more spit than blood, even if there should be none at all.

"Oh good, "Luca says - because they wouldn't leave Rocker alone, so Luca followed him - leaning against the wall. Descon jumps a little. He hadn't even seen him there.

"Will you finally leave now?" Rocker snarks at Luca - but Luca barely acknowledges his tone.

"Higgs told him to get cleaned up and go home, "Luca tells Deacon. "Hondo told me to let you know you're off for the rest of the day, too. So unless Rocker wants to put in a formal complaint-"

"oh my god, how often do I have to say it? I won't, " Rocker gripes. "and don't talk about me like I'm not right here."

"I wouldn't if you would actually talk to me," Luca tells him, and towards Descon, he says: "Where's Annie? I'll take her home if you take care of this one. "

"I'm fine-"

"Break room. I will. Thank you, Luca. "

Luca nods and pats Descons shoulder on his way out.

"Did you tell him? "Rocker asks when Luca is out of earshot. There is such tension between them now because this is not a great situation for either of them.

"No. But he's Swat, he can connect the dots. "

Rocker breathes and spits into the sink again.

"Are you-"

"Bit my cheek. I'm fine." and after a beat, "She didn't get my eyes or anything. Didn't even hit that hard."

Deacon is certain that Rocker doesn't notice what his words just gave away, what they implied. But he wasn't going to comment on it right then.

Deacon moves to cross the distance between them. When he put a hand on Rocker's shoulder, he tensed him.

"Let me get you cleaned up. I'll take you home. "

Rocker shakes his head.

"‚No' to getting cleaned up? Or to go home? Or both? "

There is a moment of silence - and then Rocker finally turns, looking at Deacon. There is something in his eyes that makes Deacon feel cold all over. But he can't quite understand it.

"Can you leave?" Rocker asks, voice thin. "I'm really okay. I need a minute."

(Because, really, how does Rocker explain this to anyone?)

He doesn't sound okay.

Deacon hesitates by the door. Rocker sighs. And it is funny because it seems that for all his closed-mouth approach to so many things in his life, everything hidden behind that boisterous exterior, it is actually Rocker who found the compromise for them here.

(An awful compromise, but still, he isn't sending Deacon away for good, only for the moment.)

"Give me two hours to get my second briefed, go home and take a shower. Come over sometime after 5?"

"I'll be there at 5."

"Yeah, alright."

[dreaminrainbows]

Hello lovies, i hope the holidays treated you well! Here are the fics that got me through December! Always leave kudos and comments!

swallowed in the sea by  28goldensfics/@28goldens | [63k]

It's 1948. It's been years since Louis Tomlinson was discharged from his time as a war doctor; all memories of that time haunt him. To get away, he moved to Orkney, a small town in Scotland on the shoreside. The storms became his crutch and solitude his comfort, watching the rain roll in and the waves lap on the sand. Everything was okay, every day was the same. Until there's a knock on his door in the middle of a thunderstorm.

Can't get you off my mind (I won't even try)  by starryhaze/@starryhaze28 | [51k]

“Can we do the thing again?” Harry asks and Louis cocks his head to the side questioningly. “What thing?” He asks softly as Harry puts his empty plate to the side to pull his legs to his chest. “The happy thoughts thing,” he mumbles, resting his chin on his legs. He’s scared Louis doesn’t even know what he means, and feels embarrassed that he brought it up in the first place. “Of course.” Louis nods with a soft smile, putting his own plate to the side and Harry breathes out a sigh of relief. ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Or the one where everything is just a little too much for Harry until he meets his new neighbour, Louis. An alpha with blue eyes and a soft smile, who always seems to know exactly what Harry needs.

My Heart Lies With You  by asphodelknox/ @iamasphodelknox | [31k]

“What did you hit me on the head for?” Louis said. He tried to frown, but it hurt too much. Plus it was hard to frown at someone taking care of him so tenderly. “I didn’t hit you on the head,” Harry said calmly, moving from Louis’s forehead to remove some bandages on his arm. “My friend Niall, the God of Death, hit you on the head.” “Well, why did Niall hit me on the head?” Louis asked. He noticed his lips hurt too, and felt a small gash on them. His arms were covered in scratches and cuts, and as he moved to sit up, he winced at a pain coming from his waist. “What the hell happened to me?” Harry sighed. “Niall… can get a bit… excited.” “Was he excited about hitting me on the head?” “No!” Harry said. “Niall just got away with himself.” “Does he do that often? Get away with himself, I mean?” Louis asked wryly. “Only when an idea gets stuck in his head that he can’t get out.” For being the God of Death, Niall has a habit of acting on ideas without thinking them through. It's probably why Harry ends up with an unexpected but entirely welcome visitor in his bed the day after a Mount Olympus party.

A Road To Something Better  by taggiecb/@taggiecb | [25k]

Louis Tomlinson, famous romance novelist, has just had the rug pulled out from under his feet when his boyfriend leaves him without notice. What's the most appropriate response to this? Move a thousand miles away and seclude himself in a tiny lake town, of course. But nothing is as he expects it to be in the very best way, especially not the handsome mayor of McAll, Idaho.

you're shooting stars from the barrel of your eyes  by devilinmybrain/ @thedevilinmybrain | [20k]

5 times Louis was gross hot and 1 time Harry was.

I Am the Blinking Light by dearmrsawyer/ @dearmrsawyer | [19k]

There is a legend of a lighthouse far out to sea. It can’t be found on any map, and those who do find it never return. They say a ghost haunts the lighthouse, and you can hear it calling out in loneliness on the ocean waves.

Reverse Psychology by heartbreakwthr | [17k]

“Every day I think I’m going to do it, and I just can’t. He’s too good looking. He’s too kind. He’s way out of my league. And at this point he probably thinks I’m the biggest jerk on the planet.” “I mean, probably,” Liam mumbles. Niall throws a pen at Liam’s face in Harry’s defense. - Or, the one where Louis Tomlinson is an elementary school teacher that has visited the hospital twice a week for the past two months, and is hopelessly out of Harry’s league; Harry Styles is a child psychologist who can’t bring muster up the courage to introduce himself to the biggest crush he’s ever had; and somehow they work together to create the best Christmas party the hospital’s ever seen.

Dancing Is Everyone's Style by WritingWithTheCatBella | [17k]

“My papa liked a boy with pretty blue eyes,” she starts, fiddling with the collar of his shirt, material making way for her soft fingers. “Uncle ZeZe said he is still in love with him,” she babbles, just as a man comes sprinting towards them, his expression a frantic kind with short brown curls bouncing wildly and his long coat flying behind him. The eyes are wide open, undeniably green in a shade no one would ever be able to describe, shining bright even in his current state of fear and oh- Harry. Harry Styles. Harry Fucking Styles.

my heart's against your chest, your lips pressed to my neck (i'm in love now) by DaddyAlphaLouisBabyOmegaHarry/ @bottomhaztoplou | [8k]

Five times Louis gives Harry a courting gift and one time Harry reciprocates.

When Everything’s Wrong (You Make it Right)  by SilverStuff50/@silverstuff50 | [7k]

Written for the Omega Harry Fest 2024 Prompt: There is something wrong with his nest. Harry’s rearranged it a thousand times tonight, even in his foggy state just on the edge of a drop. He’s always been able to take care of himself, able to perfect his nest so that it calms his omega down and keeps him away from that floaty feeling but right now fear is overtaking him as he gets closer and closer to the edge. The thing is, he knows what’s missing. But he can’t exactly go knock on his neighbour’s door and ask “Hey, I know you don’t know me but I’m about to drop and need that purple sweatshirt off of your back for my nest so I can stop it.” Or can he?

no faith left to lose by louieshalo/@louieshalo | [7k]

Louis shoves an album booklet — Harry’s album booklet — into Harry’s hands, folded open to a familiar page. “I need you to tell me that that goddamn song is not about me.” His voice cracks a little in his vehemence, and ice fills Harry’s veins as he glances down at the creased page. He doesn’t need to look closely to know what it is Louis is talking about — the title is printed plainly on the page, Second Chances, along with every incriminating lyric, line by line. It’s his most blatant offense off the entire album, probably; sickeningly indulgent and too obviously vulnerable to even defend himself against. The song is a surface-level dip into the fantasy world Harry toys with when the ache of loneliness gets to be too much in the middle of the night, the brief glimpse already toeing over the boundary he’d promised himself he’d set for his career. Most damning, though, is the tiny embossed dedication at the bottom of the page; “For who I’d be if I wasn’t afraid,” Louis recites, looking expectantly at Harry. “What the fuck does that mean? or, the one where they miss each other more than anything.

bite me by finelinegynandromorph/ @finelinegynandromorph | [6k]

harry’s just a single mum trying to enjoy his favorite holiday season. that is, until his hot new neighbor moves in completely alone with a newborn baby

Wonderland by orphan_account | [4k]

For the prompt: Harry the fairy takes up residence in Louis’ attic to hibernate through the cold months, but Louis ends up finding him whilst putting up the Christmas decorations. Queue grumpy Harry being woken up, but he can't go back to sleep once he's tried to hibernate, so he starts following Louis around, full of excitement and questions about his first Christmas.

Day Four: Gift by 28goldensfics/ @28goldens | [4k]

Christmas Countdown Day Four: Gift Harry and Louis are on a break. But, on December 23rd Harry finds a collection of gifts he set aside for Louis and decides to give them to him anyway.

You Don’t Have to Be Lonely Tonight by Neondiamond/ @neondiamond | [2k]

Louis is stuck working the Christmas day shift at the coffee shop. Harry is the sad stranger who comes in to spend the day there.

Do You See What I See  by allwaswell16/@allwaswell16 | [2k]

Harry may or may not be rescuing stray animals as an excuse to see the very hot local veterinarian. Or an absurd pet fic inspired by She Is Beauty We Are World Class

we got all night (we're going nowhere) by larryftnoctrl/ @the-larry-way | [1k]

Louis couldn’t believe his luck. Across the ocean from home, he’d found a fellow Brit, an attractive alpha who seemed to like alphas. And most importantly, he seemed to have a cheeky mouth that Louis would love to silence with his own mouth. Or his knot. He wasn’t picky.

(do you think it's easy) being of the jealous kind by larryftnoctrl/ @the-larry-way | [854]

Harry is mad and Louis isn't exactly sure why. (or Louis comes home smelling of another omega and Harry is near heat and jealous)

I wish you all a Happy New Year, hope it treats you good!

If you want to make a difference DO NOT forget to leave COMMENTS and KUDOS! You'll make someone's day or week or month!

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

drivers with a partner whos feeling rlly bad impostor syndrome?

(omg im self inserting again wowwow whos shocked)

-bear 😔❤️

i got ya bear <3 (you're a great writer and your fics always always always make me smile)

arthur leclerc:

will immediately attempt to do whatever you're having imposter syndrome over

it's not a very well thought out idea bc if he is better than you then he's only making it worse

but luckily for you your boyfriend has one talent and it is Car

he fails spectacularly

claims it was all part of the plan to make you see how good you are

he's lying

he did not mean to fail that badly

only reinforces his point

kimi antonelli:

he'll be telling you how wrong you in two languages

maybe three

he's the child of the brocedes divorce he's definitely picked up a few german words from nico

"that's so stupid" mainly

anyway

if talking doesn't work he'll make you pasta

he's definitely gonna kiss your face until you laugh and agree with him

lando norris:

his kneejerk reaction is to just agree with you

he can't help it it's his humour

but then he'll actually process what you said and he'll get SO offended

acts like you're a hater on twitter

"who the fuck are you to talk about my boyfriend like that??? 🤨"

would probably start a stream for the sole purpose of asking the chat if you're bad at whatever it is

will verbally fight anyone who says you aren't because they're wrong

his pr team hate it but lando is very much of the opinion that people can hate him all they want but they CANNOT hate you

which includes yourself

(you always scold him when he says people should hate him, because he's wrong)

logan sargeant:

confused puppy

genuinely does not understand why you think you're bad

you could do literally anything and logan will still think you're the coolest person on the planet

will get genuinely upset if you talk badly about yourself

he hates it

eventually he'll just be pouting so much you stop bc you don't like making logan sad

he'll make you say at least 5 nice things about yourself before he stops pouting

ollie bearman:

will find a *LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER* to beep at you

will use it every single time you try to say something negative about yourself or your work

uses laughing at you for thinking you're bad as a strategy to switch what you think is embarrassing

i can't say if it works or not

but eventually you'll actually second guess your doubts because it feels sillier to think that than to think that you did a good job

oscar piastri:

he'll bring up something you did (drawing, piece of writing, whatever) from a while ago that he knows you've forgotten about and show it to you

when you say it's good (bc of course it is) he'll get the smuggest grin on his face

"exactly. it's yours. you're wrong. you're good."

will also go over several of your latest attempts at whatever it is you're feeling imposter syndrome over and ask you to point out what you think is bad

oscar will then explain how you're wrong and it's good

end of story

in a stubbornness contest i can guarantee that he will win

yuki tsunoda:

"that's stupid."

genuinely thinks you're dumber for thinking you're bad

would probably check for signs of a concussion or something just to make sure that's not why you're clearly not in reality

would probably leave it for a while after that

just long enough for you to think he's forgotten about it

then he'll start pretending to get imposter syndrome over his driving

you'll say everything you need to hear until you realise yuki's not actually upset

and he's just tricked you into comforting yourself

you grumble about making him sleep on the couch

but you both know you're bluffing

[madly-enthusiastic]

Uhhh, GUYS.

I think I wrote the first chapter of a Radioapple fanfic...

Just- Tell me if it's good, 'kay? It still doesn't have a name cuz it's a work in progress so, I'm still thinking of a name, I can't ask you for help with the name without telling all the story's AU so, I'll resort to the one thing I trust. My sister.

______

How much love can a parent express for its child?

If you asked Lucifer, he'd start rambling about how much his daughter is an amazing woman, already planning her own hotel with... redemption?

"Redemption, you say?" A voice Lucifer much liked and adored asked.

"Yeah... It's a bit silly and in my opinion, impossible even. But I trust her and I know she'll reach great lengths, heck, maybe Heaven itself!" He answered back, chuckling a bit. "I'm currently helping her to find a territory she can estabilish as hers, I could just give her a part of my territory but she says she wants to win something on her own. Regardless of what she wants or needs, I'm very proud of her!" He soon added, gesturing vaguely to the North as to show where the hotel was most likely to be constructed.

A comfortable minute is passed between them until the soft laugh from Lucifer's company interrupts it.

"Perhaps I'll visit it later."

​_______

Lucifer's dream was interrupted by the sound of his alarm going off, he groggily sat up on his bed before he slipped his hooved feet in his duck slippers. Another dream, another memory, I guess... Lucifer thought as he stood up, letting his wings strech so his back wouldn't feel sore later on.

He grabbed his phone and checked the messages he received. Satan's email for a new meeting... Charlie inviting me over... Goetias- He froze for a minute before he checked his phone again to make sure he didn't misread it. Charlie is inviting me over?!

Needless to say he cleared his agenda just so he could visit his daughter, it has been 7 years since they last spoke after... No! Don't think of that, Lucifer! Think of your precious daughter and how she invited you over despite years of not talking to her! Lucifer interrupted himself from going to dark memories.

He took a deep breath before he called her. Thankfully, Charlie picked up right away as if she was expecting her dad to call back.

"Oh! Hey Dad!" Her voice was like music to Lucifer's ears, it had been so long since he spoke with her, he almost forgot how the sound of his daughter's voice was!

"Hey Char-Char! I... just read your message, are you inviting me over to that hotel of yours? What was it again... The... Happy Hotel?" He asked, unsure if he got the name right.

"Ah, yes, dad! Actually, we changed it to the Hazbin Hotel! I had some help with the name!" She answered, happy that her dad remembered the hotel's old name, it meant that he was interested enough to learn it.

Thank Father. Lucifer thought, letting out a sigh of relief that didn't go past his daughter but she just laughed at it. "Sorry for the reaction, Char-Char... The old name was horrible, I never said anything 'cause I wanted to support you." He explained, chuckling awkwardly.

"It's alright dad! I don't blame you for that, the old name was... something, I guess? Well! What do you think of the new name? Is it hellish and ducking enough for you?"

Lucifer couldn't see Charlie's expression, but he was sure she was grinning while he blushed heavily. He felt embarrassed whenever his daughter brought up his ducks but he tried to ignore her teasing and focus on her question.

"Well... The Hazbin Hotel does have a nice ring to it! I also liked the joke... The 'has been' hotel, it's somewhat clever, I guess!" He answered, the joke was funny enough to make Lucifer laugh, it remembered him of the dad's jokes he used to do with Charlie and his friends.

"I'm happy you like it! Anyway, I was wondering if you could visit us! I mean, I know your agenda is kinda tight and you must be pretty busy with Hell and stuff but—"

"No, no, no! Don't worry about that, I didn't had much to do today," Besides a maybe important meeting with Satan about Hell's hierarchy. Lucifer didn't say that part out loud, though. "I can arrive there in, uh, let me check... Two hours! Is that good for you, Charlie?"

Charlie stayed quiet on the other side of the line before she started jumping out of happiness (Lucifer couldn't see it but he assumed she was jumping by the sound of the ground being hit by a pair of hooves many times). "Yes, yes! That's perfect, dad! It's enough time for me to clean up the place, arrange some decorations and—" She stopped to take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "... Thank you, dad. For everything, really."

Lucifer smiled as he heard his daughter. Even if he thought redemption was impossible, he'd have support Charlie no matter what, he loved his daughter and there was nothing that could change that fact. "Don't thank me sweetie, you were the one that achieved that. Not me, I just helped you through it."

"I'm still thankful, dad. You helped me when I need and you keep helping me whenever I need something... You're an amazing dad. I love you." Lucifer couldn't barely contain the tears that risked to fall from his eyes, but he held back until he answered he loved her back.

As Charlie hang up, Lucifer finally let the tears fall, they fell like a waterfall but he didn't try to stop them. His daughter still loves him after all, she still appreaciates all the silly things he did for her.

After a few minutes of crying, he wiped his eyes and checked the apple shaped clock on his bedroom. Two hours... He sighed, looking around the mess in his room. I could just teleport there but... I should get some things done before I visit Charlie, it's better to do it now than to do it later. And for the next two hours, Lucifer cleaned his room, organized his books, explained the situation to Satan, who was mad at him but he allowed Lucifer to postpone the meeting to Saturday. Thank Father...

When it was finally time to visit Charlie, Lucifer made sure to wear his best clothes. Charlie already knows me but what if she has residents there? Sure, this is Hell but it's better to be safe than sorry!

He took a deep breath before he opened the portal, staring at the hotel's door for two minutes before he stepped in.

It's time to do this.

____

AAAAAnd that's the end... It's more of an epilogue than a chapter, just to give a quick explanation on Charlie's relationship with Lucifer:

• Charlie and Lucifer's relationship is better than in the original series cuz Lucifer would have helped Charlie to create the hotel, they managed to bound through it

• Lucifer was an absent father, that is no difference, what changed was that his friends told him he should try to spend more time with Charlie and that's what he did

• Charlie and Lucifer stopped talking for 7 years after an event on both Charlie and Lucifer's lives that left them scarred, principally on Lucifer's side of the story.

And before you ask, there're some differences on my characters from the originals designs. For example: Lucifer has goat ears, Charlie has them too, both have hooves and it goes that way with many characters! Husk is the same cuz he's already perfect, Angel changed a bit and Nifty is... still Nifty.

Pretty please, tell me your thoughts about it!!

[afurtivecake]

I'm not sure if I'm the only one who notices the aftg fandom tendency to infantilize victims of abuse but the way some people here talk about jean like he's made of glass sounds so weird and patronizing to me. I remember reading the part where cat suggests that there might be nice to explore his sexuality and pleasure now that he's in a safer environment that allows him to do it and thinking oh well that makes sense and it's sweet that she found a playful way to talk about an awkward topic (sex and pleasure) and then I'm on tumblr and there's people saying that she practically made fun of his sexual assault I mean ? did she? jean was embarrassed but that was it. it wasn't malicious at all and trust me I think jean is familiar enough with malice and cruelty to know what it looks like. ANYWAY I wanted your thoughts on the subject since ur not the type to jump on moralist rants or interpreting a character with such bad faith. I always like to read what you have to say!

funny you should mention this, anon, i do have a fic wip where cat teases jean about him watching jeremy, and jean being in a bit of a funny headspace at the time goes into a spiral. and in it, jean knows that his reaction isn't about cat or what cat said and he's not angry or upset with her. and the fic isn't really about jean and cat, it's about jean and his trauma.

because, you see, i think the thing about trauma is that it is inconvenient. the person with the trauma doesn't want to have the trauma responses that they have. they don't want it to pop up in response to things that they logically KNOW are fine and safe. it's really really frustrating! but sometimes they can't help it. sometimes they're not even conscious of what exactly triggered them. but that doesn't mean whoever or whatever triggered the response are to blame or that they need to change their behaviour.

it's like neil and wymack in tfc when wymack shouts at neil when neil drops the coffee beans and neil spooks. neil explains to wymack that he KNOWS wymack doesn't mean to hurt him and that wymack isn't even actually angry, but he can't help the way he reacts. at no point does neil blame wymack and wymack doesn't substantially change how he behaves around neil either. they just sort of learn how each other works as neil slowly becomes more comfortable around the foxes.

i don't think jean actually blames cat (or even thea, for that matter) for saying something that raises his hackles. jean (unlike riko) is emotionally mature enough to not blame others for his involuntary emotional reactions.

trust me, i have no idea what the common aftg opinions are and i'm horrible at guessing. but i will say that the sunshine court would read as a very different book if everyone handled jean's trauma with pitch-perfect, ideal care. it would read like one of those books that make you want to retch because it sounds like it was written by people who have never dealt well with people with complex trauma and are writing a fantasy of how they wish it would go.

[asthedeathoflight]

The longer I sit with it the less convinced I am that Wake actually hated Gideon. Like, let's just look at the evidence here. We hear that Wake resented Gideon and only stuck around her to ensure that the tomb could be opened from Mercymorn, Pyrrha, and Wake herself. And no, I don't believe Wake sacrificed herself for Gideon out of any sentimentality. She wanted to kill John so bad she'd die for it. But then she was essentially alone with Gideon for twenty years. I don't believe anything Mercy says about Wake, and Pyrrha may have known Wake but like ghost Wake had plenty of time to develop more nuanced feelings after she and Pyrrha's epic breakup.

Which leaves the most compelling piece of evidence of Wake hating Gideon being that she says she does. To John of all fucking people. And I think if we really step back, it's more likely that she was lying there than that she was telling the truth. She's trying to goad him into killing her so he can't get any information out of her. Of course she's gonna taunt them with their spite baby she was gonna kill. John may have complicated feelings about baby death (mr infant finger crown) but it's reasonable to try and push that button.

Which is all well and good but negating the evidence that Wake hated Gideon doesn't equate to evidence she didn't hate Gideon. Except that we kind of do have that. Wake and Gideon only interact once in all of Harrow the Ninth, and it's when Wake saves Gideon's life by shooting Mercy with a herald bullet. Her extremely valuable, irreplaceable herald bullets she needs to kill John with. And you can't even argue that she's doing it to further her cause of using Gideon to kill John because she's just saving Gideon's ghost. There is no evidence based on how necromancy works that Gideon's ghost is at all a necessary moving part in the killing John plan. Her ghost being there in Nona distinctly does not help. Wake has a much better shot at killing John right there and then with the herald bullets. Letting Mercy tidy up her loose ends here looks like a pretty good deal from where I'm standing. But she can't stand by and let Gideon die. She was willing to sacrifice Gideon, yes, but she can't let her be murdered.

I'm not arguing that Wakes feelings towards Gideon are at all maternal. I don't think she's in the running for mother of the year. She's not even mother of the hour of the minute of the second. But it does mean something that Wake gave up residency in her bones to hop into the sword. She had no way of knowing that sword would one day end up within spitting distance of John. I think that Wake simply, in her own fucked up and angry kind of way, cared about Gideon and wanted to be close to her.