#but it's still really hard to imagine it's the same person

[kaisaerinlover]

tw: mention of abuse

michael kaiser’s birthday, the twelfth to be precise, marked the first time he ever did something for himself. it’s when his life really began, when he finally started the long path of living for himself instead of just to serve as a punching bag for his piece of shit dad. a day when he became more than just a remnant of everything his mother left behind after she abandoned the small family that she began to build.

and now his twenty first birthday marks a new change in his life too. nine years after the fact. christmas means nothing to kaiser, so it means nothing to you too. kaiser doesn’t like getting gifts, they’re worthless to him. he has enough money, and was never taught how to react. but you are a gift within yourself, maybe the first one that he ever received. he knows he doesn’t know to act with you either, the same sadness he feels when he receives a present from somebody washing over him every time he mistreats you, his best gift. you’re the best thing within the possession of his cold hands and even colder heart; he swears he loves you. he loves you so much, you are everything and nothing all at once, he just can’t help himself.

he never gives himself a rest; after all, holidays are worthless to him. he doesn’t do christmas festivities, maybe he’ll take you to one of the many christmas markets berlin has to offer to get yourself some nice things, a sweet outing. a weak and cowardly apology for all the bad he does to you. he’s a fucking coward, he knows it. he can’t cover your bruises and cracks with cold hard cash forever, but you won’t care, you love him too. that’s the only festivity he doesn’t refuse to participate in. no rest and no breaks - he only has time for practice on christmas.

training in the empty club facility when everyone else is at home with their families, their wives, parents, hell some of his teammates have began building families already. he could never do that though, kaiser is a vindictive man; don’t let any of these words fool you into believing he is anything but evil and manipulative. kaiser knows himself what type of person he is. he knows he’s scum of the earth, but for the most part he simply doesn’t care. one of the very small amount of considerate things he has done is decide to not have children. he doesn’t want to hurt his own child someday, doesn’t want to have you pack up and leave just like his mother. doesn’t want to subject anyone to the torment he grew up with all those years ago. he only thinks he can’t fix all of the bad caused by his brutish nature to you with cash because even after almost a decade of being away from the shithead he’s forced to call his father, he still isn’t fully healed. hell, that’s why he takes it out on you so much. he kicks the ball extra hard at the thought of that. he’s a real piece of work, and if he wasn’t so selfish, he would leave you. it’s best for you anyway.

on the walk home in the snow he ponders hard. he didn’t want kids, so why did he allow himself a girlfriend. kaiser is a selfish man, he’s a really fucking disgusting person (don’t doubt it, seriously) so why is he indulging himself with you? he’s not quite sure himself, he also refuses to acknowledge the warmth that grew and expanded since he met you and passed time with you. he didn’t drive today, the streets are cold and quiet and he likes the alone time. the winter is cold and lonely, a fitting sentiment for him. solitude matches him the best, which again leads to the question, why does he indulge himself in you so much? he’s trudging through the snow on the path, fresh snow. pure white and innocent snow. it reminds him of you. you’re so sweet, pliable, innocent. everything he isn’t. every crunch he hears from under his boots, every piece of dirt he imagines he’s leaving in his trail; it reminds him of you. how he’s so scared to corrupt you. but he only thinks of the negatives and never the positives. stupid micha, doesn’t he realise the snow is still falling? fresh snow covering his tracks, covering the dirt and cleansing all of the bad - of course he doesn’t think of that, this man is so in his head!

stepping into the warmth of his lavish house is liberating. a stark contrast from the cold nonstop nipping at his nose. the man is white as the snow outside, his face probably looks ridiculously red. he lazily kicks off his boots and unzips his coat and tosses it across one of the stools for the kitchen island; you’ll clean it up anyway, you always do.

he glances at your empty cup on the island. it’s cute and pink, like you. you’re so sweet. but he’s a little disheartened, you’re probably asleep already. he glances at the grandiose clock you insisted you had to buy for the kitchen which sits on the wall above a picture of you two sitting next to each other. it’s 11pm, he didn’t realise it was so late. no wonder he’s so worn out. he lazily crosses off the 24th before he trudges upstairs and goes to bed. he smiled a bit when he did, you decorated the 25th with such cute stickers and a big pink heart drawn around it. you’d never forget his birthday, even if he wanted you to oh so desperately. sweet angel that you are.

he strips and flops into bed next to you, feeling your warmth and gentle breathing is enough to lull him to sleep instantaneously. he’ll shower in the morning, he can’t be fucking bothered right now; cut him some slack too, it’s his birthday!

as soon as you hear him snore you jolt up. michael kaiser you will not escape your birthday, you promise him that in your head. missing christmas is a crime in itself that maybe you can let slide (well not really, he always indulges you and lets you put up a few decorations around the house. but you digress.)

you work yourself tirelessly putting up birthday decorations and getting the food you had baked by a pretty expensive baker a few days ago for him, and you also baked him a cake yourself. you’re surprised he didn’t notice the white boxes in the fridge, but honestly christmas season is when he stresses himself out the most with soccer; so it doesn’t surprise you the more you think about it. he must be really tired ‘cause you almost fell down trying to hang up the big ribbon banner at least five times and not once was he awoken by the nuances of the night caused by your sub par decorating abilities.

kaiser is awoken suddenly, and he jolts up confused and (embarrassingly) a bit frightened. but he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees your big eyes in front of his face blinking. he’d be a bit alarmed if it was anyone else but you’ve always been a bit of an odd one, so he just brings his hand up to lightly pet your cheek as he yawns. “morning engel, why are you all up in my face, it’s too early” his voice is really hot after he’s just woken up, you observe. “micha, it’s your birthday” you say in an oh so monotone voice. he knows it’s his birthday, so why are you telling him this?

his question is answered when you throw yourself on the bed out of his face in exhaustion and he sees what you’ve done to your shared room. balloons and a nice happy birthday banner across the wall directly infront of your bed, ribbons everywhere, sweetly wrapped gift boxes and a bowl of his favourite garlic bread rust sitting next to a birthday cake and cupcakes. he’s actually in awe, like, really. he doesn’t know how to react at all. he just looks at your form flopped down on the bed in exhaustion and feels even worse seeing the bruises he’s left on you before, feels even more guilty for all the harsh obscenities he’s shouted at you more times than any normal person would like to admit. he swallows the build up of saliva caught in his mouth he didn’t even realise was there.

“das alles ist für mich...? du hast das getan...?” he swallows again. his throat is so dry, his voice shakes a little. he really can’t believe it. he is showered in love every day by adoring fans and the whole nation of germany. the whole world for that matter, he’s one of the best players of today. he’s a prodigy, a gem, a talent and everything else synonymous to this. yet all the love and adoration thrown at him by all of these people cannot even compare even by a tiny fraction to your love. your adoration. the way you cherish him. he’s so blessed, he never believed in gods before, he believes in the impossible but not those types of things. he’s not a follower he’s a leader, he is the only god. but jesus fucking christ, god has to be real. you must be one of his angels, he swears it. you’re way too fucking good to be true.

you prop yourself up on your elbows to answer him, “ja, who else?” and kaiser’s eyes seriously water, he’s not even the emotional type, but he’s a bit moved. he also tries to uphold that stoic front of his, but man, he’s just so affected by this. in a good way; at least he thinks it’s good. he just can’t hold it anymore and shifts to pin you down to the bed and kiss your face all over. he feels even more bad about the black eye he gave you too. you’re too good for him, you really are. he feels his heart clench a bit; an unknown sensation. he loves you so much, he really does, and he knows he’s so disgusting sometimes and he doesn’t show it, but he promises he does. he shoves his tongue down your throat and grips your wrists so tight they could shatter, but he doesn’t care. he’s so fucking in love with you, you’re so fucking sweet. you’re panting for air and you’re seriously in pain from his rough display of love, but when are you not hurt by this man? you are light and he is dark, you are an angel and he’s the sin of man embodied. you are every single good thing in this universe and he is the complete opposite. you both acknowledge this, and usually he relishes in the dynamic. but he feels so guilty. you’re as sweet as sugar. he’s kissing you so hungrily; as if he wants to eat you.

when he finally pulls away, he’s hovering over you. his hair is so beautiful, he’s so beautiful like this. you have to blow a piece of his hair out of your eye, and he laughs. you’re priceless, you really are. you’re so cute. so special. you’re everything. holidays and birthdays were always foreign to him. he doesn’t care for them at all - or didn’t. he does now, he really fucking does. love does that to you. he’s so glad he took the risk, took a risk of dating you, found someone so angelic. so perfect for him. he can’t help but think about what his 12 year old self would think of this. if he would have even believed he would have someone so loving and compliant by his side ever in his life. believed that he was anything other than a worthless piece of shit.

all the years of pain and longing for a love which he believed could never be bestowed upon a man of his caricature paid off. all the time he (begrudgingly) yearned for love. for a partner. a princess to call his own. the lonely emperor who wanted nothing more than to be treated as if he was someone special and meant something. he’s so emotional, very rare for him. he’s so emotional seeing how much he means to you. how much you’re willing to do. and for the first time in his life, he feels joy on his birthday. “prinzessin, i love you” he leans down to whisper in your ear. and you giggle and kick your legs as much as you can beneath him like a giddy schoolgirl. “love you too micha, you deserve the world”

he doesn’t know how you do it, how you can act like this despite the way he treats you. he knows he’s a manipulative asshole, but he never took the time to care about anything other than himself and maybe you. but now he almost feels sorry. almost feels like his heart could open up into a black hole and swallow him up for doing this to someone so sweet. but he told you before, if you didn’t like this you could just leave (he’d never let that). you also told yourself something, you would fix this man. you’re an empath. a pure soul full of compassion. you’re as broken as he is. maybe that’s why you stayed, why you grew to like the toxicity, why you believed you could fix him. and it’s paying off.

you did get up eventually, to sit on the floor and open the gifts he got from yours truly. you’re in pink panties a pink bra and his jersey, currently getting frosting all over it from a slice of cake he cut for you. isn’t it funny, this jersey would go for thousands on the internet, so many fangirls would kill to be wearing this. and you’re messing it all up. his piece is sitting next to him as he holds a particularly sentimental gift from you in his hands and stares down at it. he doesn’t know how to react. he never did know how to react to gifts. but he wishes you knew how grateful he is for you. so grateful that you stay through all of this.

you do know, you really do.

hours later and his pure unbridled joy is yet to die down. you’re spoon feeding him cake as you’re both sat on the floor laughing. the pains that his birthday brought him are forgotten for now, as are the injuries he inflicted upon you. the holes in the wall he leaves when he’s angry are covered with decorations. the small specks of blood adorning the floor from a particularly nasty nosebleed you had caused by his fist are hidden by the wrapping paper from all of the thoughtful gifts you bought for him. his tattooed hand is on the floor ontop of your smaller one. the crown covering your own. his princess.

michael kaiser was born on christmas, he was a gift his parents neglected. weren’t grateful for. a gift to his parents that they didn’t even realise. a gift to the soccer world. a gift for you. special gift for you. the best gift you could ever receive. so you’ll treat him like that, despite the violence. you are so empathetic to him. so sweet. kaiser deserves the world he really does.

and as he watches you giggle as you feed him cake and eat spoonfuls for yourself too, he realises you’re a gift too. you’re not born on any particularly noticeable holiday the way he is. but your birthday is the biggest celebration in itself. he’s so thankful to whatever god decided to grace the world with your presence and then send you in his direction. his eyes are so soft for once and he wears a small smile. let’s forget about all of the violence and anger, all of the sadness, the shattered and messily glued back pieces of the little boy he truly is for once. let’s just have fun.

he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear as he looks into your eyes so deeply. “you are the best gift i could ever ask for, mein schatz”

[corvus-frugilegus]

The real tragedy of the Dellamortes is how inevitable Illario's betrayal was.

Caterina's refusal to really see either of her grandsons for who they are sets all three of them on this path. Lucanis's mother was Caterina's favourite, she was probably the person Caterina had in mind to succeed her. That loss, the loss of so much of Caterina's legacy had to have been devastating. She'd built so much and it was all torn away in a single conflict. All she has left in the wake of it is two young boys and this tenacity that will not allow her to give up on what she's built.

So she puts it all on Lucanis. The son of her favourite (bonus angst if he looks like his mother). She's unable to see this sweet boy who loves wyverns and just had his life ripped apart for who he is. She just see's her legacy. The daughter she lost. She puts it all into him, he's pushed into the role of favourite.

Lucanis responds to this by shoving down the parts of himself she doesn't want to see- his gentle heart, his love of wyverns, the little boy who needs to be loved. If he's good enough, strong enough, the perfect crow, the perfect granson- then and only then will she love him, will he be safe.

And then you have Illario! There isn't as much to go on in the text about his family or what he was like as a boy but there's a few things we can pretty confidently infer. Like Lucanis, Illario violently loses everything he has at a very young age. All he has left are the other two Dellamorte's.

But he isn't the child of Caterina's favourite. She isn't automatically putting all of her legacy on his shoulders the way she does Lucanis. He still gets the training, and what we do see in the wigmaker job and the wake and even in the codex entires in the game is that Illario does become a comptent and capable crow. He has a level of skill that I suspect is broadly expected of house Dellamorte, he was trained by the first talon herself. But the Illario we meet as an adult has this laissez-faire affect and presents himself as a seducer and a bit of a peakcock. He also very overtly refers to himself as Dellamorte-the-lesser and at the end of the wigmaker job when they're discussing the title of first talon you can feel the resentment below the surface.

For Illario it's not about the power and the prestige that comes from the title of first talon. It's not even about having the title itself. It's about FINALLY earning Caterina's love and respect. Things he undoubtly never felt as a boy.

How could he? When he's a child the only two people he has left in the world have this special bond that he never gets to be a part of. His only caretaker has a clear favourite and she shows it. He's lived his whole life in Lucanis's shadow, and a shadow that Lucanis never wanted to cast! Which if anything just adds insult to injury for Illario.

Lucanis has everything Illario wants and he doesn't even want it.

I imagine as a boy Illario tries SO HARD to win her love, her favour, he'll do anything to feel like he's loved and wanted and valued. And when after YEARS it doesn't work even though Lucanis clearly doesn't want the role he's been forced into? Illario gets resentful, he gets angry, he starts acting up. He becomes the suave peacock, the grandson who fucks up sometimes- probably not because he's bad at being a crow but because at least Caterina's ire is attention. It's a scrap of love.

Illario and Lucanis love each other. They're brothers. Illario resents Lucanis for being loved and favoured. Lucanis wants nothing more than to give it all to Illario. Illario doesn't want that he wants Caterina to love him on his own merit. At the same time (pre-inner demons) Lucanis will never actually give the title up because it means he's loved, he's valued, he matters.

The title of first talon has been synonymous with emotional safety and love for these two for their entire lives, and it's twisted them up so badly.

The real irony of it all is that this whole time Illario is so much more like the person Caterina wants Lucanis to be. Her heir, the Dellamorte best suited to be the next first talon has been right there infront of her all along, but she's so caught up in grief and legacy she misses it. She never really see's either of her grandsons for who they are.

I actually suspect that when it all comes to light, even though she's furious with him, Caterina finally starts to see what she's been overlooking in Illario all along. And Lucanis who's started to heal... well I think she's starting to see him too, and the truth of who he is is something she'll struggle to face.

When the day finally comes that Lucanis tells her he doesn't want the job, when him and Illario both accept that their lives have meaning outside of Caterina's opinion of them, is the day that the Dellamorte's can maybe start to really see each other.

[brucewaynehater101]

Well i think that way too skinny tim is part of the problems with the babyfication/infantilization of tim.

Tim is very efficient and would take care of himself almost strictly. It all started with taking the role of one of bruce's caretakers. He couldnt let himself have a sick day when Bruce could be having yet another breakdown. Also realistically with his duty as vigilante he wouldn't let himself go thin.

But in the tall tim drake au. While still going through the growth spurts he would totally go even leaner. As he is not used to eat as much as food, i think in those months Tim would do the cryptid thing just to scare the bats. After he finally stops growing he would bulk up. (Def nothing like Bruce or Jason) more like Dick's type of physique. (Smth like jacob elordi / jack champion irl).

His team would help him with the amount of food he should get. And Tim would grt tired of being treated like a little child who cant go to play if he doesnt finnish his meal.

Anyways how do you think his family would react at Tim going tall as a tower? Especially Jason & Bruce reactions.

Og post here

Hi again!!! I think Tim being way too skinny and not taking care of himself can play into the infantalization. However, I also hc Tim to be the type of person that really struggles to put on weight or muscle mass. I've had some friends/loved ones who ate a fuck ton and still remained bean poles. That's kind of where I'm basing it at.

Tim struggling to put on muscle mass could also play into him not being a natural at Robin's physical skills/needs. Basically, him working really fucking hard to meet the same physical goals as Jason and/or Dick.

For the tall Tim Drake AU, I imagine he wouldn't bulk up quite as much as Dick. At the very least, he'd struggle to obtain as much muscle mass as Dick and maintain it. Jacob Elordi does seem like a good fit for Tim, though. A more lean muscular type but still muscles (Dick's got some huge fucking shoulders. Ripped as hell back).

I'm also down for his muscle mass needing to catch up with his growth spurt. Maybe it takes up to a year for his physique to fully settle after he stops growing taller?

He would be hungry *constantly* though. Poor Tim :'( He'd probably come up with some nutrition plan based on his blood sugar and shit to adequately fulfill his needs. He'll be hella annoyed, though, at all the changes and increased need for nutrients. YJ would definitely be roped into it too.

As far as the Bats...

Alfred: *drops his tray*

Damian: *shocked pikaku face*

Bruce: *mental calculations lady*

Jason: *"nopes" out of there*

Babs: *knew all along*

Dick: *sobbing on the floor*

Steph: *instinctively throws something at Tim*

Cass: *sprints towards Tim to tackle hug him*

EDIT: I did not clarify enough on when specifically Tim's struggles with eating may transfer into infantalization territory.

One, nothing wrong with needing support and help with maintaining adequate self-care. I personally struggle with eating and greatly benefit from someone helping me with this.

Two, I bet all of the Bats, at some point, have needed extra support in self-care matters. Particularly, Dick, Bruce, Babs, and Jason, but I imagine the others have had their times as well.

The issues stem from either a narrative of Tim being "incapable" of caring for himself or a restriction in his autonomy. While Tim may benefit from someone reminding him to eat, preparing meals, leaving him snacks, etc., this doesn't mean his own desires should be ignored. If he doesn't want someone butting into his life to help him with that, then so be it. He's capable of making decisions for himself even if others would disagree with his decisions "for his own good."

Hopefully, that's clearer ^^

[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 🥰

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[meiusoo-twistedtwst]

NRC Faces the Sorting Hat…

Hear me out this is ranked by a serious Potterhead who has DELVED into the associations of each house so allow me to share my thoughts on which Hogwarts house the NRC guys would possibly be sorted into —>

TREY & Cater seem like master manipulators, especially if all those overthrowing Riddle to reclaim Cater’s title as dorm leader theories are true (haven’t read Cater’s ch. 7 arc I rlly need to😭)

Azul & Vil are literally so ambitious, like Azul tried to erase his own past to theoretically present himself as a whole new, blank-slate person with absolutely no embarrassments or flaws while Vil’s determination drove him to insanity as he cunningly used Neige’s trust to try to POISON him

I think Ruggie & Jamil are very self-explanatory as they’re both ambitious & cunning, scheming guys. I chose Slytherin over Hufflepuff for Ruggie as although he’s extremely hardworking & relatively patient (he cleans up after Leona, not a job for the impatient) but he’s not actually all that loyal I don’t think. He only bonded with & followed after Leona because it would benefit him though… (now as I’m writing this I’m starting to think he might actually be a Hufflepuff-)

Silver & Sebek both showed lots of Hufflepuff traits but ultimately the events of Ch.7 pushed me to place them in Gryffindor instead. Just imagine how difficult it would be to turn your sword against the guy you’ve known & loved your whole life? The guy you had once sworn absolute obedience & loyalty to? They’re prime reinforcers as to why Neville Longbottom was in Gryffindor (it takes bravery to stand up against your own friends)

Ace & Deuce: Same thing as above but to a less extreme extent. Arguably, if the Ace is a traitor theories are true then he’d be a strong runner up for Slytherin with how cunning he is. I was hesitant with Deuce since he might be a Hufflepuff, but his background as a delinquent & his willingness to rebel against authority (cough cough Riddle cough) when he could have just stayed completely loyal like Trey (who may have just been plotting Riddle’s fall from grace then) made me put him in Gryffindor

Floyd was between Slytherin & Gryffindor but I don’t think he’s actually all that cunning? Like he knows he’s intimidating & uses that to his advantage but otherwise he doesn’t actively use detailed plots the same way Jade or Azul do? Plus, he’s just not afraid of anything; very brave

Epel was brave for being rebellious & rejecting peer pressure for the most part- definitely hard to say no when your dorm leader is a literal celebrity & accomplished student. Jack is also very self explanatory with how he’s not afraid to stand apart from the crowd (seen in Ch. 2) & he was never so blindly loyal to Leona to the point where he’d ignore or not notice his flaws

+He wasn’t on the Tier maker but I’d put Grim in Gryffindor with how recklessly brave he is (literally so chaotic & constantly defies authority)

I know what you’re all thinking but hear me out… Crowley is a bad (or at least morally grey) Hufflepuff. He preaches love, graciousness, & kindness- which are all dominantly Hufflepuff ideals, & people always overlook this but you don’t actually have to be a nice person to be in Hufflepuff. Every house is capable of producing dark wizards (there was an evil Hufflepuff in Hogwarts Legacy !) so even all those suspicions that Crowley might be downright evil could still make him a Hufflepuff, just not the stereotypical one. If he 100% idealizes kindness, even if he doesn’t positively reinforce it, then he’s still a Hufflepuff (though he is admittedly really Slytherin too)

Kalim is self-explanatory but I did kinda consider Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Kalim is brave to keep Jamil around even after he tried to defame him & he’s strong enough to keep a genuine smile on his face despite being betrayed & facing near death situations all his life. Now I know Kalim isn’t book smart but he has really high emotional intelligence, he knows a lot more than he lets on, as shown by some of the inquisitive things he says to others

my house :p

Crewel’s got that academically smart (alchemy must be hard) & creative mix (his passion for fashion), I feel like Sam values insight & knowledge mainly to increase sales but just valuing those things makes him a Ravenclaw, & I just put Trein in Ravenclaw because he likes history & different cultures (although he could be a Hufflepuff with his loyalty, dunno though since that’s really just him being a good husband)

Lilia could be a Hufflepuff, with his love & loyalty to the Draconia royal family, but his vast wisdom & eccentricity made me put him in Ravenclaw instead, though I am kinda hesitant about it. With Leona, I know he’d totally be a Slytherin with how cunning he is & although he’s very ambitious, he’s so lazy it’s counterproductive to his desires. But I put him in Ravenclaw because he’s actually so smart & very knowledgeable, wise even

The Shroud brothers honestly could have been in Hufflepuff with their family loyalty, but Idia’s attitude pushed him into Ravenclaw instead. He also loves delving deep into his passions & interests, using knowledge to his advantage. Same with Ortho since he’s a walking encyclopedia & also takes full advantage of his constant access to data banks & the whole internet. The Shrouds are almost like eternal, nonstop knowledge gatherers, especially with how their family literally devotes themselves to researching overblot

Rook is pretty self-explanatory with his intense curiosity & his pursuit for beauty could also be interpreted as a pursuit for diversifying one’s knowledge of the world so one could embrace all the beauty within different cultures & such. But he is also very Hufflepuff with how nice & insanely loyal he is… (so loyal to all he almost isn’t loyal….)

Jade could be a Slytherin, but I don’t think he’s as ambitious as Azul? He uses cunning much more often but otherwise, his genuine fascination with mushrooms & human life places him in Ravenclaw as at his core, Jade’s really into research & gaining more knowledge of a world on land that he was once a stranger to

I was thinking Slytherin could be a good fit for Malleus but I’m hesitant for some reason ..??

Don’t know much about Vargas’s personality & I wanted to avoid just tossing him in Gryffindor to mindlessly follow the jock=Gryffindor stereotype

I know many would put Riddle in Ravenclaw, & at surface level, I would do the same. But to be in Ravenclaw you actually have to believe knowledge is power…& Riddle doesn’t actually love constantly pursuing knowledge. Even if he thinks academics are important, he would have never been studying so diligently if it wasn’t for his mother’s influence and control over his childhood….

•°. *࿐ •°. *࿐ •°. *࿐

Where would you sort everyone?

🎄Merry Christmas everyone~

[beforetimes]

have to preface this by saying i don't really care about jayvik and i probably won't be posting about them after this but i DO subscribe to the meljayvik agenda. but only in the context of a very specific dynamic i've invented for them in my head that i can not explain without giving an example, which is what i've come to lay out today.

let me set the scene: pre-act two, mel and viktor become. acquianted. mostly through ""closet-detours"" during very long and boring parties mostly about acquiring funding for their projects when hex-tech is still being built up. viktor is not totally sold on anyone on the council and mel doesn't really care to know viktor as a person but there is a serendipitous moment where mel looks at viktor and is like 'i can tell you don't want to be here' and viktor looks at mel and is like 'you are doing a great job of sounding as if you like these people but i can tell that you definitely don't want to be here right now.'

anyway, this is how they first get acquiainted. and its mostly stress-relief and no one is privy to it except for jayce, who doesn't explicitly get told but after spending so much time in viktor's vicinity and also around mel he can sort of put together the pieces in a way that no one else can. and after a few years of this very casual no strings attached fling going on, mel and viktor both kind of realize that they need more to get the same thrill they did at the very beginning of their little arrangement.

which is where jayce comes in, after all the pieces are set in place.

inviting you to imagine jayce to have the same disposition as this poster on twitter while all this is going on because its an essential part of his characterization in this scenario i've concocted: "Me [heard "PAWG" and got so hard i got nauseous]: i think i hauve Covid." this describes jayce's state of mind far more succintly than i could ever hope to.

now, in this scenario, mel pulls the same little show that she does in season one that eventually leads jayce to sleep with her. this is without the added backdrop of viktor's illness getting bad because it's pre-act two. but jayce knows that mel has something going on with viktor, even if he can't really put into words what it is along with the fact that neither of them have ever said anything about it out loud. so jayce, trying not to do his friend dirty, asks 'what about viktor?' to which mel replies 'he doesn't have to know.'

viktor knows. he is incredibly aware of this. mel also knows this.

anyway cut back to mel's room and they're in the middle of foreplay where jayce is so unravelled at this point that he can't tell if he's enjoying himself or halfway to a panic attack because wow mel is so beautiful and he's lowkey been fantasizing about her for years but also he feels so guilty because he knows that he's definitely betraying viktor's trust but also now he's started getting into this he thinks he'll die if he tries to walk out on mel. which is obviously when viktor walks in.

now i hear you saying: wouldn't the natural reaction be for viktor to start yelling, asking what the hell is going on, or for mel and viktor to have constructed this entire charade for viktor to let loose on him in some weird continuation of their foreplay? i see where you are coming from. that is not the way this unfolds.

viktor, very blase and casual about it all, says 'don't mind me' and takes a seat in the corner. now he is a spectator.

mel is very into this. viktor is very into this. jayce thinks he's going to pass out and he can't exactly tell why. but also i want to remind you of the 'got so hard i got nauseous: i think i hauve covid' mindset jayce is walking into this with. now imagine that times about one hundred. this is the only way i can explain that somehow, some way, jayce continues and they sleep together similarly to the scene in season one while viktor watches them the whole time. jayce, privately, can't tell if he's into this or not. he thinks he is, which is terrifying, but he kind of ignores viktor the entire time and mel does too.

the next morning jayce wakes up. he is much more soberingly aware of what exactly went down the night before and thinks his life is essentially over. viktor is, like, his only friend besides caitlyn. and maybe yesterday mel wasn't thinking straight so she regrets it this morning and now she won't want to see him either. but he can't ask her because he woke up in her bed and she isn't here.

now, today is saturday, which is usually when he and viktor have breakfast together in the lab because they trade-off on treating each other to waffles from one of the pastry stores down the street after a week of hard work. jayce is already convinced that he's going to go down to that lab and find one of two things: 1) empty lab, no viktor and no waffles, where he will proceed to kill himself in his head and cry for about two hours before going home and lying in bed the rest of the day or 2) viktor in the lab, mad, and ready to ream him out in a way he couldn't when mel was in the room yesterday.

neither of these options are very appealing to jayce, so on his way down to the lab, as though he's walking to the gallows, he stalls and kills himself in his head preemptively about three hundred times. then, about half an hour later than he's usually there, walks in.

bad news: viktor is there. good news: there are also waffles?

jayce is baffled. then immediately jumps to the logical conclusion that this is a friendship break-up breakfast and they are never going to speak to each other again after this.

viktor, who heard jayce walk in a minute ago before he froze at the sight of pastries, turns around and is like 'what took you so long? you're never usually late.' very casual. jayce, again, is baffled. viktor is seemingly oblivious to jayce's gripes [not true. he is incredibly aware] and invites him to sit down and eat waffles. viktor does not mention the night before.

mel, when he eventually sees her later, doesn't mention it either. jayce is so confused. no one is talking about it. he expected to ruin this entire interconnected trio by sleeping with mel in front of viktor the night before but literally nothing has come from it and he is waiting for the other shoe to drop while also coming to a vaguely terrifying sexual awakening after interrogating the fact that he was kind of into it when viktor was watching him and mel in bed but also he really liked sleeping with mel when it was happening. but anyway, getting off-track.

this is the rundown:

jayce isn't talking about it. he's decided that viktor not talking about it is some sort of implicit forgiveness where they both silently decide to never discuss it again because then they don't have to dissolve their friendship and make the rest of their partnership awkward. viktor reinforces this belief by acting like absolutely nothing is wrong.

mel isn't talking about it. she is very aware of the fact that jayce is being put through the horrors and interacting with him after that night and acting like nothing at all has happened while continuing to flirt with him makes his reactions to her advances about twice as entertaining and three times as attractive in how disproportionatley flustered he gets every time.

viktor isn't talking about it. he doesn't care that jayce slept with mel because watching was kind of hot as fuck and he was into it and he thinks that watching jayce slowly die inside every time mel drops by in the lab is very entertaining. especially considering the fact that jayce would usually vent to him but because of The Night he is absolutely not going to bother viktor with sexual frustrations about mel.

mel and viktor don't talk about it with each other. they only debrief during one of their closet-detours during a party where they kind of get each other off while in a very false-casual tone mentioning off-handedly how much more fun it would be if jayce was here right now.

jayce is not aware of the extent to which they've manufactured that specific night and the aftermath to ensure that he is in the torture chamber at all times. mel and viktor are slowly wearing down at jayce with their own almost imperciptable advances. after The Night, the culmination of months of planning and pointed remarks and lusting from mel and viktor, everything becomes a waiting game. and lowkey a competition between the two of them, too: who can get jayce to crack and talk about it.

the moment he does talk about it, they plan to invite him into the fold by having viktor seduce him into sleeping with him before mel joins in properly instead of just watching. in this scenario, jayce wakes up and mel and viktor are both there and they act like this is also very normal until jayce goes with the flow and accepts this new throuple-ish dynamic where no one actually says anything.

for now, though, they are waiting. jayce has no idea any of this is going on. he is the most stressed man alive and he thinks he is going to die about three times a day and kills himself in his head once a week because he can not stop thinking about viktor in the corner of the room and also how entirely overwhelmingly good he felt all because of mel. and he thinks he is bisexual but he was employed and a little mentally unstable for most of his teenhood so this is the first time he's thinking about it. and mel and viktor are still having their closet-detours while trying to sweat jayce out.

to me personally, this is the ideal pre-act two, season one dynamic for meljayvik to work. hope you all see the vision too

[reiwanwan]

To my sweetheart, Happy holidays.

John Shelby x Wife! reader

a/n: This was rushed and not proofread, because I had the idea in my head and knew that I had to write it immediately before the idea would be lost. So apologies if there are mistakes in the grammar or spelling. Also I’ve never wrote for John before so I really wanted to try and I wanted to write something for the holidays , hope you like it! xx

“Goodnight my stars, thank you for being such wonderful older siblings yea? Close your eyes, mommy loves you both, always” Your two older children had been helping you at home with two of your younger children throughout the day, even putting them to sleep, while you dealt with the other remaining three all day while your husband, John Shelby was back at Small Heath to help out at the Garrison. You smoothed down their hairs and kissed their foreheads and turned your heel to slowly close the door behind you and walked back to your bedroom.

Many hours go by and you still couldn’t sleep, but this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. You could only ever sleep peacefully when John was next to you, his body warmth against your cold skin, and his hands that always grabbed your body just because he liked to hold onto the softness of your curves. So instead, you went downstairs to sit on the couch in the living room, legs sprawled out and head resting on the cushion. Looking at the calendar across from your peripheral vision, you saw the date— 23rd December. Both you and John had planned to have a Christmas party, inviting all your friends and family, hoping that this would give a chance for your children to be able to meet their uncles, aunts, and their cousins which they had not seen in a very long time.

Staring at the ceiling fan, you started imagining what the party would be like on that special day. John would make a toast to his family, Arthur would get drunk and possibly black out on your porch, your children would be running around with their cousins in the backyard, and you would be having a lovely chat with Ada, Lizzie and Polly with wine and cigarettes in hand. Your lips pulled into a smile as you continued to daydream, and your eyelids slowly growing heavier at every second of it.

Your chest rises up and down at a slow and steady pace and your snores filled the living room. and you were blissfully unaware of the hand that was brushing your hair and tucking it to the back of your ears. Your eyes slowly open and your vision, still hazy but through all the haze, you knew who was waiting for you when everything would be all clear. Your man, John Shelby. He continued stroking your hair and placed a soft kiss on your forehead and in return, you gave him a warm and gentle smile. The sight of you— just woken up and groggy but still glowing nonetheless. As his hands cupped your face, his right thumb brushing your cheek while his left thumb wiped away the drool that had slid down your chin.

“I’m home sweetheart, sorry to keep you waitin for so long” John says as he sat on the couch with you but readjusted your body, laying your head on his lap, facing up so that he could look down at you. “No s’alright, I’m sure it must be hard delivering all the presents to families in the UK, isn’t that right Father Christmas?” You teased. He scoffs, “That’s right, it’s been tough on me…but I still managed to deliver em all, I’m bloody amazing aren’t I? and now, for being such a good girl, you’re gonna get your present early…cmere you”, He says as he leans down towards you and pulls you in for a kiss, your hands reached for his face, and your fingers lovingly combed through his brown hair. He cradled the back of your head while his other hand supports the small of your back.

When you both pulled away, you saw that boyish grin on his face, the same one you fell in love with when you were younger. Oh how you absolutely loved and adored his irresistible playful smile and immature personality, even though it often only ever brought you headaches because it made you feel that you had eight children instead of seven. “Hope you like your gift, love”. You sat up and placed your hands on his chest and gave him a tiny peck on his lips, placing your foreheads against each other. “Of course I did, it was actually one of the best gifts I’ve ever received in my whole life”.

The both of you stayed like that for a moment. Forehead still pressed against one another, his hands now rubbing on your back and on your thigh. Suddenly, he lifts you up bridal style, you let out a soft gasp to not wake your children. “John!” you cried out, giggling like a school girl as you kicked your legs. He carried you to your bedroom and gently tosses you onto the mattress and locks the door behind him. You barely get a moment to react when he tackles you and litters you with kisses on your neck, leaving you squealing and laughing at his antics. His body hovers above you as he looks at you with those big blue eyes, leaning to give your lips one last kiss, “Happy holidays sweetheart, I love you, always”.

@weepingdreammarvel @tomhardystories @vivianleighwishesshewasme

[frost-eyed-autumn]

Its been a long and winding year returning to tumblr in a more dedicated fashion for the first in a long while (not since 2019, yeesh! Time flies), but I can't really say I regret it at all!

With all its ups and a couple of downs, I've regained some of that old spark I used to have being in the RPC again and I really just wanted to do something paying it forward even if just in a small way -- so I'm doing a little something that used to be a common end-of-the-year tradition back during the golden years of the old RPC I used to romp in!

There's nothing anyone else has to do in return, this is just me giving a little bit of appreciation to all the people who have given me a reason to be here and really let me enjoy myself here again!

So one way or another, this is just a thank you to ALL of my mutuals who've made my time here a little bit brighter! Here's to a hopefully even better 2025!

@starsburned / @stormslullaby / @eiinn-ulfr

Cor, my bruhloved. Every list has to have you on it, naturally. I wouldn't even be here writing right now if you hadn't been the one to convince me to pick up Chuuya. Its hard to believe how close we're getting to the 8 year mark since we've officially become friends. I genuinely don't know where I'd be without you. You helped pick me up when I was at my lowest in the old fandom where we met, and that first time you let me vent to you, I really just thought you would be another person who was here today, gone tomorrow. But now you've woven yourself so deeply into my daily routine that I can't imagine anything less than having you part of my life. You're such an amazing person despite all of the absolute bullshit you've gone through daily that no one should have to suffer through, and I'm proud of you for still chugging along no matter how hard everything gets and how much you've grown and continue to grow. And more than just that, you're such an amazing writer to boot. You dedicate so much to every muse you pick up, whether it be a canon or an OC, and craft every one of them masterfully. From Rune to Dazai to Verlaine to Mori and all your other billions of muses (you fucking muse gremlin(affectionate)), none of them ever disappoint and I love seeing how passionate you are about all of them, whether it be in your writings or just your daily ramblings. Nothing would be the same without you here.

@memoryextrction

Things are still a bit new between us but I can say with full, genuine honesty you are one of the most pleasant people I've had the pleasure of getting to know! And I've had a lot of people come in and out of my life, most of them people that quickly showed they weren't good for me, so that's a compliment that doesn't come lightly from me, distant and critical person that I am about new faces. Even if I'm old and tired and can't always keep up with your energy, I always love seeing your messages and interacting with you, and just your overall maturity and decency as a person despite how young you still are and all of the shit you go through and struggle with on a daily basis. I only wish there were more people who could bring your kind of wholesome vibes to the world because the world seriously needs more people like you. And of course, your writing! The thing that got us interacting in the first place. I love our interactions so much and how much passion you put behind your muses, especially the characters who basically had nothing in their original series and really made them your own. I love the nuance and complexity and love you breathe into your 2-minute-screen-time muses and really give them the attention they deserve, and by god do they make for some of my favorite interactions of all time.

@nohumaen / @crimcpnish

We've only really begun to start talking in earnest, but I'm glad we have! Its rare that I'm pleasantly surprised by people, especially in dealing with tough situations, but you are one of those few people, and its a real breath of fresh air, let me tell you. I'm genuinely happy to have started writing with and getting to know you, and not just because your Kouyou (and Higuchi, and Fyodor) is fucking amazing, although that certainly helps! Your humor always gives me a good laugh, and overall I just really enjoy your company and don't regret at all bringing you into our little circle of friends. I'm wishing the best for you and those you keep closest!

@vulpesly

We don't write nearly as much as I'd like to these days, but just having you still around and part of my experience at all means more than I can rightly express. I always love our small exchanges and seeing Jono and Tachihara on the dash, and just how much care you put into your portrayals! Even just seeing your little rambles about other things like video games lightens my day a little. Thank you for allowing me to be part of your experience as well.

@inciteafflatus / @skilledsenses

Tenka! The bonafied cryptid of my circle of people. Its always a pleasure to see you around and your Ranpo is always so *chef's kiss* (even if Chuuya wants to yeet him through a ceiling every time). You're always so funny and pleasant to talk to, in the rare instances you make your cryptid appearances, and I'm glad to know you and always share in a good few laughs!

@ripheart / @beastlit

I know this year has been pretty rough on you, and I'm holding out hope that things get a lot better moving into the new year! I've really enjoyed what few exchanges we've had when we both have the energy to carry a conversation, and your amazing writings always leave me biting at the bit waiting for your next carefully crafted reply! Your Yosano is so beautifully portrayed and on-point I could swear she was written by Asagiri himself, and I really look forward to seeing more of her when life finally cuts you a break enough to return!

@eternalstarlights

Going to be honest, at one point I wasn't sure if we were ever going to meaningfully interact, but now that we have a couple things started I'm really glad we do! I'm really enjoying the little things we have going on between Kunikida and Ember and I especially really look forward to seeing how things develop with Ember because she and Chuuya honestly just seem like such a natural-born team to have working together and bonding over blowing things up!

@flamesignite / @hughesxmaes

We don't do a whole ton of direct interactions but seeing the constant shenanigans and total crack energy on my dash (at poor Roy's expense) is always a fun time even from the sidelines and is just about always guaranteed to get a laugh or two out of me. Keep doing what you're doing cuz its honestly such a joy to see!

@kitxkatrp

I'm really enjoying the little interactions we have going so far between Chuuya and Dazai and Mori! Its always fun having Double Black stirring up shit with each other and I definitely never have any complaints getting to throw Chuuya at a well written Mori!

@gyofukuki

Its a bit of a shame we don't get to interact more cuz you honestly just give me lots of good vibes whenever you're around! Though I totally get it with not being able to be around as much as you'd like to. I haven't forgotten the couple of things we managed to get started and I'm really looking forward to continuing them when you do manage to find the time to be back here properly!

@galaxy-0f-muses

It took us a while to really kick things off but I couldn't be happier that we finally have! I'm super enjoying the little thread we have going with Atsushi and Chuuya right now and I'm definitely interested to see how things will play out with Yosano once that thread finds its stride too! Here's to some hopefully fun, ongoing interactions because I'm really digging them so far!

@frozcnlight

We've only just started to really get things rolling, but I'm already enjoying the dynamic going on between Chuuya and Miran quite a bit! She's such an interesting contrast to Chuuya in a way that's bound to spark some interesting interactions between them. What those interactions will be, I'm not really sure yet, but exploring that and seeing where it goes has definitely caught my interest!

@spezialistin / @kokyuchusei

I always love seeing people giving some of the less recognized / appreciated characters of a series some love and attention, especially some of the strong female characters, and so far you really do immense justice to writing Higuchi! We may only have one little thread going at the moment but already it has me rolling around a ton of possibilities and ideas that I'm really looking forward to playing around with and hopefully I can inspire the same!

@ofdraiocht

Its good to finally get the ball rolling on something after being distant mutuals for so long and I'm definitely enjoying and looking forward to the interaction we have going between Chuuya and Odasaku! I always love playing around different timelines like Dark Era and what Chuuya's relationship might be to some of the characters we don't really get to see him interact with much in canon.

@voracitys

Its always nice to have a new face to write with and explore new possibilities and I definitely haven't been disappointed! I know Gin is still a bit of a new muse for you trying her out but what little we've written so far I'm really enjoying and love how you write her and look forward to seeing how these two develop! Especially being both Chuuya and Gin coming from somewhat similar backgrounds, even if she doesn't realize it yet, so there's a whole lot of potential there for the both of them that I'm eager to see play out!

@koriningyou

We're still kind of finding our stride in actually writing something together and kind of talked about that already, but trust me, I notice all the little Likes you leave on my posts and I really appreciate those small, daily affirmations that you're reading and wanting to interact! And I seriously appreciate it every time and look forward to once we get some momentum going on IC interactions as well!

@muses-of-kira / @alchemic-elric

We haven't really gotten to write much yet for obvious reasons but that doesn't mean I don't look forward to it! I'm wishing you a speedy recovery for your hand and I look forward to being able to write something once its better!

And just for following back this silly blog of mine at all, even if we haven't really interacted much (yet!)

@cursedlane || @seraphynm || @fullmxtal-elrich / @zodixcsorangekxtten / @cryptxd-laboratxry || @bookmcde || @doppogin || @cherrygardn || @pocketfulofgalaxies || @diverse-hearts-ocs || @rowanberryhub / @goeticedda || @ficryfingcrs || @paramythas || @avarlclouss || @mused-like-roses || @devouund / @vieaccorde / @straypaged / @yashabana || @teruoku || @hellshovnd

[llively-12]

All I Need

(Let Down part 2)

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

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Park Jihyo x female reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating, a bit suggestive at the end

Story: What had been broken, could also be fixed.

Authors note: A big thank you to the person who requested a part two! I'm happy for every interaction I get on my fanfics. Big love to everyone who has been liking my posts♡. Enjoy the read♥︎

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'What was broken could also be fixed.'

That's what eight year old Jihyo thought after breaking one of her mothers precious vases. While chasing after her siblings, she accidentally knocked the expensive object over and caused it to shatter into many pieces.

Now she was sitting at the table in her bedroom with a glue bottle in her hand, trying to fix the mess that she had made. It wasn't exactly easy to figure out which pieces belonged together and how to arrange them, but she would invest every second she had to ensure that this vase would be fixed.

The work was hard and painful, but Jihyo put her best efforts into putting the vase together. In the end, she had a decent result. The vase was almost the same as before. No, it was even better. The vase created a completely new image. The colours now create a different picture. It gave the vase a fresh new look.

Jihyo was, of course, scolded for the action. Her mother loved the vase, and she was quite sad after she found out that Jihyo had broken it. To her surprise, the result Jihyo came up with was even better than her previous vase. The new creation gave her so much joy and a whole different perspective that she put it into the entry. Jihyo's mom proudly showed the remade vase to everyone entering the house.

◇

The weeks after the finished collaboration were rough. Jihyo moved out of the once shared apartment. You were not really talking to her. Only acknowledging her when it was nessacery. What broke Jihyo the most were the ripped up pictures she found one day. That was apparently your way of dealing with everything, just breaking stuff out of frustration.

Of course, she understood the struggles you had. She still couldn't figure out what brought her to the decision to cheat on you. Nothing ever made her question her relationship until that point. To her relief, the short fling with the male artist quickly ended after the collaboration. He returned back to the States without messaging Jihyo. What an asshole. She put the most important thing in her life onto the edge just to be ghosted.

Well karma is a bitch and it was all over Jihyos face. The ripped up picture pieces lay secure in her bedside table at the new apartment. She would never let these go or the relationship with you. Everything that had been broken could also be fixed. That mindset burned into Jihyo's head as she made out a plan to win you back.

◇

Work drowned out your insecure thoughts. The books were kind of your saviour. After things with Jihyo partially ended, you felk into a consumerism spiral and bought every book revolving about love, relationship drama, and most importantly, murdering your ex.

You were so pent up with frustration that the poor books and customers had to suffer under the emotional mess of your life. Friends and family were your biggest supporters, but after a while, you found more solitude by drowning yourself into the world of books. They gave you the perfect scenarios to imagine. Scenarios that could've happened with Jihyo, too.

You tried to ignore her or everything evolving around her, but you live in South Korea. The streets are plastered with her face. The internet is filled with commercials that include her or even her voice. The radio plays the same Twice songs. You could never really escape her, even if you wanted to.

◇

Jihyo turned the key to your once shared apartment. There were still things that she needed to get. You were sitting on the couch, almost unbothered. You tried so hard not to care when she was around, but then her eyes met yours, and suddenly, everything started crashing down on you.

She would comfort you, hold you close to her, and you would let her. In the end, you would do everything to keep her. Being back in her securing embrace made you calm down. She always had a calming effect on you.

"I am going to fix this."

Her promise was sure and determined. You know jihyo. She pulls things through until they're done. She keeps her promise.

◇

The bed felt different this morning. Another weight pushed the mattress further down into the wooden bedframe. Her black hair is spread out across the pillow case. Her breathing, soft and gentle, casts through the air like a nostalgic melody. Her fingers wrap around the fabric of your shirt.

Jihyo sleeping next to you in bed was not something you thought you'd be waking up to any time soon. Both of you were still hurt and broken from her cheating. You never knew how much she was affected by her actions, but you also partially didn't care. She made that decision, and now she had to live with the consequences.

You take her hand off your shirt and leave the bedroom. The audacity she had, sleeping in your bed, next to you. You walk into the guest bedroom. The bed there wasn't as comfortable as your own, but you don't want to sleep next to Jihyo. At least not now.

Over the course of the last week, things changed. You started talking to her again and let her back into the apartment. Both of you actually settled for her sleeping in the guest room. That quickly changed, though, as she started sneaking into your room and sleeping next to you.

You started arguments over this, but at the end of the day, it was never enough for you to actually stay mad at her. Everything you tried shattered down the cliffs of her care for you. Ironically, she was the one caring for you when you were crying about the things she did.

Like always, she found a way back into your heart. Slowly but surely, she'd crawl back in like nothing happened. That's what she always did, and you could never hold her back. It's like you needed her more than oxygen. Like the air, your breath wasn't enough to fill you up to keep you functioning. She was like a siren, calling you back into the depths of her ocean at any time she wanted to.

◇

Evenings like these were normal once. A wine glass in your right hand, and a book in your left. The cushion of the couch comforted your back as you were lying against it. Jihyo sits at the other end of the couch. Her actions are the same as yours.

Her wine glass is almost empty. The second bottle of wine has already been opened and put on the small coffee table. Usually, Jihyo was more into beer. She would always order the bitter liquid on night outs. Here at 'home', she would enjoy a nice wine with you.

Her eyes are trained on the book in her hand. She's reading some romance drama novel you got her before the whole breakup drama. She always enjoyed your taste in literature. Her love for reading was actually quite unexpected. In the beginning, you only got to see her love for sports or her job. Yet after the first few walls of your relationship crumbled, she revealed more of her true self.

Things got better now. You could eat dinner with her again, sit next to her, or engage in a casual chat with her without thinking about the past events. Jihyo made a lot of effort to try to win you back. Of course you had noticed. Her actions never really subtle.

While thinking, your eyes were trained on her. Jihyo had to bite back a small smile. She wanted nothing more than to have you back as hers again. Regretting everything that happened and that she wasn't faithful to you. Jihyo wanted you back, more than anything in the world. She had made a fool of herself and mostly you.

Nothing would go back to the way it once was, but she could make something new out of it. You both could, together, like you always used to. Giving life a new perspective.

Every time Jihyo thought things were hopeless, she thought back to the broken vase. The effort she had put into something simple as glueing back together the shards of porcelain would give her the boost she needed. Like she did back then, she would now put her effort into repairing this mess. She would glue your broken pieces back together.

◇

Her kisses felt like little butterflies gracing your skin. You could never get enough of the feeling of her. Another night of enjoying some wine and books turned into kisses and caresses. It shouldn't be like this. You should hate her, and you have every right to.

Her mouth drags over your neck, only stopping to give your skin a wet kiss. A sigh escapes your lips. She knew all of your weak spots. Her hands hold onto your waist underneath your shirt. The skin of her hand is soft and delicate.

Your hands hold onto her tank top, fingers occasionally scratching the tanned skin underneath. Gasps escaped her lips. Jihyo was very vocal about her likes and dislikes. She leaned closer to you, her muscles tensing under your touch, but in a good way.

Your hand meets her cheek and pulls her head up for a soft kiss. The kiss holds emotions you nor she could ever express. Sometimes, actions do speak more than words. Jihyo knew how to transport the right message with her gestures.

"You're all I need." She rasps out, her voice breathless and almost hoarse. Her eyes meet yours, the brown orbs filled with hope and need. You've never seen her look at you like this.

Maybe you just need to let your guard down and love her again. The universe would never send you someone again who would look at you like this. The rawness of love, right in front of your face. Your head nods without much thought, and you lean in for another kiss.

◇

[ye4gerism]

hiii😊 I kinda have a few questions about curly’s mom Ngl and maybe his dad. I think my first question for his mom though is….is she racist or just a toxic boy mom or both. I also kinda wonder like what makes her like jimmy so much. Then about his dad. Ik we don’t really know much about him but I just wanted to know like does he likes us at all or more than the mom. I also kinda want to understand curly and his mom’s dynamic. Like when it comes to the toxic boy mom is she trying to see the husband she wants in curly. Because it kinda just came to point where is like these weird boy moms are kinda grooming or being weird with their son. Or is it more of just she’s jealous like jimmy but they aren’t jealous in the same way. I guys my class question is just why did curly’s mom and dad and how did curly take it. Also sorry if this is a lot😭 happy holidays 🎄

author’s note hi! thank you for your ask. this is a long post and i don’t want to clog up the feed. so click ‘keep reading’ to keep reading lol.

content good luck captain

ok so, here’s the long answer to your first question 😭 as you’ve probably noticed i am a black writer and make it my purpose to write for readers who look like me. the mouthwashing fandom is still so new and i haven’t really seen any black reader stories for curly (or really anyone) except for @grimmsbride who i’ve seen writing for curly and daisuke (check them out!).

because i still want an audience to cater to (and i don’t know what demographic i’m actually pulling from my fics), i would say yes and yes to your question about curly’s mom in good luck, captain. i could definitely see her being prejudice to reader if they’re poc and is most definitely a toxic boy mom. whatever the case is for you, she’ll never really see you as the best fit for her son.

as for jimmy, i’ve mentioned he grew up with curly in happy birthday, jolene. she just sees him as another son just based on shared history and proximity. he’s family.

i haven’t thought much about curly’s dad and just now realized i probably should have included him and his reaction to the tuplar crash in best wishes, curly. i feel that curly really favors his father and i hinted in dream of fish that his mom doesn’t really like that. as it’s been previously mentioned, he lives in australia and had most of the custody over curly. i imagine him as a really chill dude who’s really really funny and charming and likes to explore. he’d probably get remarried to someone who shares his humor and sense of adventure. when reader and curly are dating, she’s only spoken to mr. curly a few times over facetime or skype. but he likes you and accepts you as his son loves you tons. he let curly propose to you in his home.

i would say that during the events of best wishes, curly, he didn’t come visit you in person as it was hard for him to handle the loss of his son but he did call from time to time. even when curly came back, it was still tough for him to see his son but he still maintains a relationship with him.

curly respects his mom but there is a limit to their relationship. he did go to school in australia and came to stay with her on breaks - he didn’t get to see her all the time and as he grew, he tries to maintain a healthy and balanced relationship with her. he got closer to her when he decided to go to college in the united states and she really takes advantage of their proximity. i wouldn’t say she’s grooming him. she left a marriage that she felt wasn’t perfect and would lonve to be involved in curly’s decisions when it comes to who he’s in love with. sometimes she’ll suggest the daughters of her friends from work or church bc she thinks they’ll fit in her idea of what curly’s family and future should look like.

over time, i feel that she would be jealous of reader bc she got the family that mrs. former curly wanted.

mr. curly and mrs. former curly just fell out of their rhythm. they were high school sweethearts and had the perfect white picket fence life and it just didn’t work out one day. after countless arguments, curly’s dad decided to file for divorce and mrs. former curly signed them in a heartbeat. obvs curly was confused and heart broken as his parents did a good job hiding their issues and he couldn’t fathom why they would separate. having to go back and forth between continents was stressful at first but it became a routine for him.

and no worries about the length of your ask. i appreciate your interest in good luck, captain! happy holidays to you too!

[emotinalsupportturtle]

same(ish) pose opposite vibes

I would run like a little child and hug one of them and run away from the other at the speed of light

this is really a testament to the fact that you don't actually have to change much of your appearance, general mannerisms or accent to perfectly embody completely opposing characters

[medi-bee]

isat pokemon au, my liege?

my rambling in tags

[helpimstuckinafandom]

Me starting another bg3 run where I will make virtually all the same decisions in mostly the same order as if there isn't different branching paths

[handsomegentlebutch]

My 3 little cousins were baptized today. "Triggered" is kind of a strong word but being in a catholic church again... I'm a little fragile rn ngl.

[mariemariemaria]

i feel kinda crazy bc whenever i was a teenager i created this sorta imaginary older big sister who had moved out of the house so in my head i could live w her whenever i wanted bc she had survived it all and was independent and she would also just comfort me in a big sisterly way whenever something bad or upsetting happened and recently ive been going back to that at my big age 😭 and its kinda sad and also just wish fulfillment and also kinda scary bc i really used to think that by my age i'd have everything sorted but i really don't and i know that's normal and nobodies twenties are perfect but some people also have good relationships w their fathers which is crazy just to think about sooo

[skunkes]

honestly i think if it werent still weirdly important to me that al be like. A guy who explored + thought about gender + realized he was still cis despite being/feeling very Gender in many directions (ykwim) i wouldve made him nonbinary already...he'd still be he/him as i genuinely cant see him being comfortable with any other set.

But idk the nonbinarism can definitely still happen considering he (+ other ocs) has/have already evolved a lot and can always evolve more. Like it could go either way, his reasons for ""staying"" cis cld easily be the reasons he "realizes" he's nb ykwim? Just like how Real People all have their reasons. + him being nb would actually still fit my being a sucker for having pairs that are Opposites in multiple ways in the same way him being cis is atm etc