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neverthatsirius-jo · 10 hours ago

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YAYYY I’D BEEN WAITING FOR AN UPDATE ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT <333

You were mad. At least you wanted to be, but when you looked at him, in all his disheveled glory, the hair he had run his hand through a thousand times, the white button-up with the top buttons undone and that had been unconsciously untucked from his slacks. You just couldn’t be genuinely mad.

see, now, maybe this is why i can’t have a sirius black in my life. i’d lose all sense of self-respect

“I’m sorry, for being so petty earlier-

i misread this as im sorry for being pretty, and well that wouldn’t have been 100% wrong

“My baby’s here!�� James burst through a door down the hallway, cheering at the top of his lungs without caring about the nurse shushing him. “He’s here and he’s beautiful come on you lot- come on!”

IM GOING TO CRY BAGSHS 😭✨ OMG I SWEAR TO EVERYTHING I HAVE EVER LOVED I SMASHED TYPED THAT WASNT INTENTIONAL WTF

You knew what Sirius would write on the back of it later.

My godson. July 31, 1980

Just simple, and small, in his fancy, loopy cursive and black ink. But monumental in itself. He had done it. He had a family, he had always had one but now he was properly part of it. He was not just a stray taken in, but he now had a part in it. He’d love that baby until his body gave out.

genuinely going to cry this is so sweeeet my heart

“I can’t believe he’s mine-”

“You don’t get to take him home mate”

BAHSHSHJE 😭

“Isn’t he the ugliest most precious thing you’ve ever seen?”

“Oi!”

“He’s so ugly it's cute-” His words tickled your ear

“I don’t think babies are supposed to be all that cute straight after birth Sirius-”

“I know love,”

how can i not highlight this entire fic when it’s so freaking good?? !! !!

A family sewed together like a mismatched quilt.

<333333

the one with the picture

sirius black x reader ! - 2,084 words masterlist bags masterlist A/N: IM BACK IM BACK IM BACK also sorry its so late at night hectic day xoxo i hope you enjoy!! don't forget to drop a little reblog or even just comment guys!! it is so very appreciated and it lets me know y'all want more!

“Ready to become uncles?” You asked, a yawn following your words.

Remus smiled at you, soft and sleepy from the couch facing yours. His cane rested on the arm of the couch, abandoned for the comfort of the shitty hospital seat. Remus nodded wordlessly.

“I reckon I’ll be a terrible uncle,” Peter gruffed as he shook the box of candies into his mouth, emptying it “I have nothing to teach this bloody baby-”

“I don’t think anyone expects you to teach him anything Wormtail-” Sirius pipped up with a laugh from the corner where he paced in circles, head swiveling towards the room James and Lily were in as a nurse hurried out of it.

You ignored the bustling of nurses, you had long learned by now that unless you saw James, it probably didn’t mean anything.

“Why on Merlin’s green earth did they decide to give birth in a muggle hospital-” Peter groaned into his hands, the hours of waiting bearing down on him.

“Lily refused to do a home birth remember? St Mungo’s doesn't exactly do the whole birth thing- ” Remus muttered from the small beige sofa he had curled up in, long legs spilling from the edge of the cushions. You wondered if he was comfortable, but his eyes were closed and he had barely moved in the past two hours so you assumed on some level he probably was. Well, between his cardigan and long pants, he was at least doing better than you. You could feel your skin start erupting in goosebumps from the cold.

It had been a blur really, the furious knocking at your door at the hands of Peter, and haphazardly putting on the first thing you found after basically clawing off the stuffy funeral dress. You didn’t even have enough time to grab a jacket, barely putting on shoes as Remus and Peter swept you off to the muggle hospital. A shiver ran down your spine as you cursed the pajama shorts and stupid t-shirt you had thrown on.

You could feel Sirius’s grey eyes on you, staring straight into the side of your head. But you refused to look, instead burying your face further into your hands. You didn’t notice he had moved until he was right next to you-

“Take it-” Sirius handed you his suit’s jacket, basically shoving it into your arms so you couldn't say no. “You’re going to get sick,” You stared at it, fingers softly squeezing the soft material. He sat next to you.

The small, beige couch you had chosen to sit on was much like the one you had when you were freshly moved in. It lived in your home for a measly two weeks before Euphemia decreed that no child of hers would have such a stiff abomination in her watch. It was hard and restricting. The two of you might as well have been sitting on a wooden bench. But neither of you dared to move, so you sat, silently, both wishing Euphemia could save you from the clutches of the rigid couch.

Sirius thought of the sofa. And when you first moved in. Together and bright-eyed, he had been so in love with you then. He reckons he still was. But now he knew there was no hope of you loving him back.

He cursed the couch silently.

“Put it on,” he sighed as he leaned back, his white button-up shifting as he threw his arm over the backrest. “Don’t be stubborn-”

You huffed as you put it on, “thanks…”

“Don’t mention it,” you leaned back too, the back of your neck close to his arm, almost touching but quite. “Did you bring my camera?” you nodded, but he didn't answer back.

You couldn’t stand the distance between you, a thick jelly of silence that was anything but peaceful. You dreaded going home, you dreaded having to face that your best friend, the boy you so dearly loved was upset with you.

Especially over something so petty. What did he care that you had a job? Your own life? Something to do that wasn’t shared with him? It was rather selfish of him, wasn’t it? You could almost hear your father spew that sentence from the darkest pits of your mind.

You stared at the small bag in Sirius’s hand. You didn’t know why you hadn’t taken notice of it before. He clutched the small velvet bag tightly. Did it have an extension charm? You wondered if it was his things then, had he carried that to the funeral? You thought you would’ve noticed. Had he been planning on staying at James’s? Had he cleared his things at some point without you noticing?

You rubbed circles into the palm of your hand and chewed at your lip worryingly.

If your father knew he’d call you stupid. Stupid for not looking for an apartment to move out, stupid for not being the first to leave, irresponsible, too trusting, so stupid.

You decided you maybe didn’t want to know if he was indeed planning to leave.

“Hey-” he shifted uncomfortably “do you think we can talk about... you know, everything”

“Sirius I don’t know if it's the time-” You refused to even take a peek at him, even though you knew he was staring right at you now.

“Well, Merlin knows how much longer we’re going to be here-” he was right, you had all been here for ages waiting for the baby to come “so yeah it might be the time,”

You sighed, finally turning to look at him. His stupid shiny grey eyes, and his stupid porcelain skin. His stupid stupid frowning lip. He’d deny he was sporting one if you called him out on it.

He had always been a pouty one.

So you softened, finally moving to face him. Your knee knocked against his, his warmth transferring from his leg onto your skin.

“I’m sorry, for being so petty earlier- it was unfair and-” Sirius sighed, staring at your hand on your lap. His fingers twitched with the need to hold yours, to feel your no doubt freezing fingers between his warm ones.

He thought of your first week of living together again.

He grabbed your hand. You stared at the bag in his other hand again.

Like if you stared at it hard enough it would tell you its contents. But your thoughts drifted as your soft fingers were enveloped in his. Yet, you didn’t say anything, you didn’t dare. You squeezed his hand and he finally looked up, back from whatever thought he had briefly gotten lost in.

“I’m really sorry about the past few weeks-”

“I’m sorry too,”

“I just wish you could trust me enough to let me take care of you- there’s no one else in the world I’d rather spend my days with…” You swallowed thickly as he spoke “I love you-”

“My baby’s here!” James burst through a door down the hallway, cheering at the top of his lungs without caring about the nurse shushing him. “He’s here and he’s beautiful come on you lot- come on!”

Sirius quickly scrambled to his feet, the other two boys following in the chaos of unsticking themselves from their respective sofas. You tried to ignore it, the sting in your heart. You loved him too of course. But did he love you the way you loved him?

There simply wasn't any time for that right now.

Sirius didn’t let go of your hand; he simply pulled, pulled until you came up with him. His hand grabbed tightly onto yours and as you ran down the hall, straight for the door to Lily’s room.

He never once let go of you.

The room was lowly lit, and Lily looked exhausted, but a smile graced her features nonetheless. Sirius tossed the small velvet bag to James with his free hand. The worry of it left your head as quickly as it had come.

Sirius dragged you by your hand all the way up to the bed, his face turning in wonder as he looked at the small baby in Lily’s arms.

“He’s so small” Peter called out from the foot of the bed,

“He’s so bloody pink-” Sirius glanced at James’s darker skin, a beaming smile nevertheless decorating his face. “Do you reckon he’ll stay like that? Or did he get the redhead’s genes?”

“Oi is that the first thing you have to say about your godson?” James couldn't help but laugh

“My godson?” Sirius stared blankly at James, briefly flickering between Lily’s equally beaming smile and the baby’s little pink face.

“I meant to ask but-” James smiled sheepishly as Lily glared,

“Merlin he’s my godson”

“Do you want to hold him?” Lily whispered as Sirius’s face broke into a smile as well,

“Of course, I want to hold my bloody godson Evans- he’s my godson”

Remus chuckled as he patted James on the back. You couldn’t help but wrap your hand around the camera that hung from your wrist.

You snapped a picture.

You knew what Sirius would write on the back of it later.

My godson. July 31, 1980

He knew it, you knew it, James and Lily knew it. From the second he was born, this baby would be the most loved baby on the planet.

“I can’t believe he’s mine-”

“You don’t get to take him home mate”

“Hush Prongs- I’m going to be his favorite I know it” Sirius smiled, a playful smirk exchanged between friends. James couldn’t help but quip back

“Right after Uncle Moony-”

“Ah that’s for sure,” Remus laughed

“I meant his favorite parent but I reckon Wormtail will be the preferred uncle, with all the candy pouring from his pockets the kid is gonna love him no doubt-” You all couldn’t help but laugh-

“Do you want to hold him too?” Lily asked, her gaze shifting onto your face. “I reckon the godmother also deserves to hold baby Harry-”

“Are you serious?

“Obviously-”

“Lily are you being serious-”

“Yes! Black hand her the baby- god-” Sirius chuckled as he passed the small bundle into your arms, placing the camera at the foot of the bed. He was heavier than you expected, and the tears gathered in your eyes as you looked at his little face. Harry was small and definitely pink. He was a quiet little thing, undisturbed by the exchange of hands he was going through. Sirius leaned his chin on top of your shoulder, his cheek borderline pressed against yours.

“Isn’t he the ugliest most precious thing you’ve ever seen?”

“Oi!”

“He’s so ugly it's cute-” His words tickled your ear

“I don’t think babies are supposed to be all that cute straight after birth Sirius-”

“I know love,”

“Alright, picture time idiots-” Remus said, leaning on his cane as he grabbed the camera with his free hand. James sitting on the side of Lily’s bed as you and Sirius also approached, baby Harry still in your arms.

“I look like shit-” You huffed as you sat on the bed with Lily

“I do too”

“Yeah, but you have a reason to Lils” Lily laughed. Sirius’s hand never left your back.

“Well- he won’t remember anyway-”

“The picture will-”

“Say godparents!” Sirius had basically wrapped himself to your side, his face pressed against yours, his arm around your waist as he leaned down for the picture.

The flash made your eyes sting, a wide smile on your face.

It was fitting, the disheveled state of the lot of you, even in the picture the nurse would take for you all later. A family sewed together like a mismatched quilt.

Sirius smiled all night.

“Seriously though why is he so pink? Is this some sort of condition? Bloody baby doesn’t look anything like Prongs-”

“-Yet” James beamed.

My family, July 31, 1980

taglist ; @thatlittlered @giuli-in-earth @notsolong-pause @niceonejames7 @caspiankingofnarnia @ilovejamespottersomuch @bmyva1entine @lanadelreykt @froggiedragon @stanzie

LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED U OR IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED (i was gone for like a month and some change so i may have not been able to properly keep up with the tag list but i did my best)

#[🤍] ; jo’s readings ── ◡̈#[] ; moots ── lele <3 #sirius black x reader #<33333 #I LOVE THIS FIC WITH MY WHOLE ENTIRE FREAKING HEART #what i wouldn’t give to be godparents with sirius black my god

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revelboo · 1 day ago

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Hello:33 I hope you're fine and well you always give your best in your writing and they are sooo fine Damn 😩🤌🏻✨ you're cooking🗣️💥😝 so if you're in the mood and have free time BC I know you're busy asf, here's my request BC I miss my husband (wifey) ratchet 😭✨🤌🏻😩😝

REVEL FEED ME ANOTHER CHAPTER OF RATCHET AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!

Please (⁠づ⁠｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡⁠)⁠づ

Sure

The Weakends Pt 11

TFP Ratchet x Reader

• Coming up for air when he rests his helm against your forehead, you’re dimly aware of his optics sliding sideways when Fowler mutters about you stretching the definition of human-Cybertronian relations with that as he stalks off. Of Ratchet making a low, rumbling sound that’s almost a growl as his head turns to track the other human and you reach to tip his face back toward you. “I don’t care what he thinks, but we probably shouldn’t be making out right here. It’s about time for the kids to get out of school,” you say, lips brushing his as you speak. And his big frame shudders against you, his hands gripping your butt to lift you off your feet and then your back hits the wall as his mouth comes down on yours as if just to spite Fowler.

• Pinning you, his servos tighten on your hip as his other hand reaches up to cup your face, tipping it up. Knows you’re right, that he should take this somewhere private, but he’s almost afraid you might come to your senses and put a stop to this if he lets up. And he needs this, you, so bad it hurts. To find out you care about him that way, that you see him? See anything besides the gruff team medic? It means everything. “Ah, Doc. Ew.” Feels you press your face against his neck, trying not to laugh as he glares over his shoulder at Smokescreen. “Get out,” he growls, now sure you’re laughing as you hook your legs around his waist and he smacks his palm against the wall behind you because you’re wiggling against him, hot breath on the mesh of his neck.

• “I told you,” you whisper, brushing your mouth against his neck because it makes him vent raggedly when you do. And then he’s tipping your head up, servos on your chin. Those lovely blue optics staring down at you in frustration and need. Tempting you to see where this goes. His thumb is against your bottom lip and you tilt your head to nip at him with your teeth, sucking on the tip and his hips rock against you as he makes a noise. Encouraging you to be wicked as you hear Smokescreen leaving, still rambling about fragging in the common area. The doc’s lips are slightly parted as you suck on his thumb, tongue sliding against him. Teasing. “We could make our own definition of human-Cybertronian relations,” you say before nipping him again. Face heating, you’re aware that you’ve never been good at this. At seduction or flirting, but you want this. Want him and need him to know it.

• “Primus,” he growls as you stare up at him with those eyes and suck on his servo again, the wet heat and suction of your mouth, the feel of your tongue sliding against him going straight to his spike. Imagining you doing that to his spike. “You’re trying to kill me.” Giving in to impulse and rocking himself against you, hating the layers of clothing and his plating between you. Had never been an exhibitionist before, still isn’t, but he’s tempted to take you right there. The kids, though. Groaning, he grips your butt in his hands ignoring your little noise of protest before you occupy that soft mouth by stroking over the mesh of his neck as he tries to walk you back to his quarters. Hearing the musical sound of your laughter again at his awkward shuffle.

• Your back hits the door to the quarters and you arch to find his mouth again when he tries to get the door open. Distracting him as the big medic growls at you and pins you more firmly. Legs tightening around him as he moves against you, rocking himself when you wiggle in his grip, chasing that friction and heat. Feeling like a teenager fooling around for the first time, groping and grinding through your clothes. “Please, doc,” you moan against his lips, knowing he hates the nickname and he takes advantage, glossa stealing inside. Clinging to him, hips bucking as he claims your mouth with all that pent up frustration, servos almost bruising on your hips.

#transformers x reader #ratchet x reader #tfp ratchet

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zevrra · 1 day ago

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could u write a jayce x female or gn reader fic or blurb where the reader has major baby fever or just wants a child in general? I feel like Jayce would make such a good girl dad. idk..this request is pretty stupid but i’ve just been craving Jayce as a dad.

I LUV UR WRITING BTW!! PLS NEVER STOP POSTING! 🤍

a/n: AAAAH this was such a cute idea i couldn’t resist KSHDKH. jayce 100% is a girl dad, you can’t change my mind and i also like to think he’d want a HUGE family too. 😭 thank you so much for the request and im sorry it’s a lil shorter but i hope it makes you giggle and kick your feet at the thought of dad!jayce bc i did KSHSKH i love jayce so much omg

jayce is definitely someone who wants to have a giant family one day. wants to have as many kids, in anyway possible, as his partner will let him. he’d be so sweet talking about how one day he hopes he can show off his kids and give them everything they could ever dream about. his heart is so big and it’s just so cute.

the two of you had been together for a very long time and seeing every child recently made you yearn for your own. so when you mention over dinner one day, wanting to start a family; he’s ecstatic. he’s so happy, staring at you with wide eyes as his face lights up with that stupidly charming smile of his.

“are you serious?” he asks; as if this might be a dream and that you’re lying to him.

“no jayce, i said it just to tease you.” you respond sarcastically. laughing with a shake of your head. you manage a shy glance in his direction as your fingers play with the utensils on the table. “i’ve just been thinking about it recently. seeing all the cute babies around the city during the holidays is just making me…want to start a family.” you add with a smile towards your lover.

who still sits and stares at you with wide eyes. his mouth slightly agape, fangs flashing as his lips curl up in a warm smile. he reaches across the table to grab your hand, his pretty hazel eyes full of love as he brings your hand up to his lips; placing a gentle kiss against your knuckles.

“it’s your call, my love but i would be honored to start a family with you.” jayce hums sweetly. he plants another kiss against your knuckles before his thumb rubs across the top of your hand, soothingly touching you as he practically looks like he’s on the verge of tears. as if he’s waited for this moment for forever.

always so dramatic and you loved him for it.

“i think you’d make a great dad.” you state in a matter of fact tone, giving his hand a gentle squeeze back.

and truly, jayce would in fact make the best dad. you didn’t have to say it out loud to know it was true either; since he was already the perfect partner. you could easily imagine him with a little girl, protecting her from any harm, playing dress up, pretending to drink tea when he’s offered a plastic cup. he’s so sweet and deserves everything good in the world and you wanted nothing more than to start that next chapter in his and your own life.

#zevrra zevrra!#anon reply #zevrra replies #arcane #fluffy zev!!#arcane fluff #jayce talis #jayce talis fluff #anon response #anon request #arcane jayce #now i want to write about making the baby >:3 #maybe…someday…#dad bod jayce would be the end of me istg #arcane drabbles #arcane x reader #jayce x gn!reader #jayce x fem!reader

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galgali · 5 hours ago

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just gonna answer all of these bc i want to hope that's cool

like everyone else my favorite episode is 25 😔 (special shoutout to the last ten minutes of episode 37 though that is one of the best show endings i've ever seen in my life)

like rem. i'd be all over that

honestly for a while

i want to answer this but the opposite way-- i think kabru from dungeon meshi would thrive in death note skjfgdfjg (and light would make a great trigun villain)

sooo many (death note is a comedy) but probably the funniest sequence to me in the whole thing is when they're at school and light calls misa to get L's name and is incredibly smug and maniacal about it and then L picks up the phone

first one of course

light 😔

GOD.... WHY DID I ALMOST TEAR UP AT L'S DEATH EVEN WHEN I KNEW THAT WOULD HAPPEN FOR OVER A DECADE... THAT WAS CRAZY

my FAAAAVORITE light yagami song is bird song by florence + the machine. it's so so so so him it's crazy i can't believe there's not a billion amvs of it

matsuda OBVIOUSLY. also naomi and honestly L like that would be so funny

omg the end of the yotsuba arc where everyone on the task force starts touching the death note and everyone can see the shinigami was crazy i loved how that was done. but also as someone who somehow was not spoiled on what misa's actual role is and only knew her as "light's girlfriend or something" for 12 years, finding out that she also has a death note was surprising and so cool!

read the hinterland doctrine NOW. YES ALL 700K. CLEAR YOUR SCHEDULE AND DO IT RIGHT NOW.

i'm clinically insane over lawlight sorry. also a big remisa fan though

adult sayu....? i guess....? 😭

oh ABSOLUTELY matsuda obviously but also deeply ryuk. i'm also here to laugh at everything, go "oh you're crazy crazy" to light yagami, and pester people to feed me my favorite food

the entirety of light's warehouse speech because the voice acting for it is insanely good, and especially the "who else could have done it and come this far?" line

literally how shinigami use the death note. which is crazy because that's the whole premise but i feel like that's so weirdly unexplained?? like ryuk says that shinigami are doing fuckall in their realm and not even killing humans anymore but isn't being reaped by a shinigami how humans die? clearly people were still dying like normal before light got the note?? we never see any shinigami do "regularly scheduled" death note kills at all so HOW is ANY of this working

PERIWINKLEEEEEEE ☺️ (also they do in the jdrama! misa's is red it's so cute)

CUNTY! i'd need some strappy goth fit that could also double as charli xcx concert clothing

SALT AND VINEGARRRRR

other than some stupid posts here and there, the one i'm currently working on is a fic where L uses the death note and i'm very pleased with the idea... time will tell if i do anything with it

that mello and near are meant to represent L's two halves-- emotion and logic respectively

the rain/foot scene in the anime, but the entire blue scene in the jdrama. god. i'm not over that. there's soooo much you can read into for both of those scenes

misa of courseeee

episode 2 :') episode 1 was already fun but episode 2 was where it REALLY grabbed me. i LOVED seeing the set-up of light versus L and how the lind l. tailor thing + the resulting SCATHING call-out that followed played out. i was just having so, so, so much fun with it and continued to have a lot of fun with it

my favorite character is unfortunately light so everything bad that happened to him i was cheering for and he deserved it buuuuut if i had to pick a saddest thing to happen. i really adore everything about his death and there is something undeniably tragic about the scene where he runs past the vision of his younger self. i love that light, corrupted beyond belief, bleeding out and running away like a coward, has to face the memory of who he was before he ruined himself forever, and has to face just how much he's fallen and lost everything. it's incredibly cathartic for the audience to see light finally have to recognize that he's failed beyond redemption, even minutes before his death

💀🪽🥱->📕🌏->📕👦-> 💀💀💀💀💀💀->🇱🤔->🇱👦->🇱🔗👦->🏳️‍🌈❓->👦🫱📕->⌚🖊️->🇱💀->👦🥳->👦🪦💃->💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀->🇳➕Ⓜ️🟰💀🪽🖊️👦📕->👦💀->🥳

oh my godddd picking just one is so hard when death note honestly has some of my favorite official art of anything ever. i just love the style of it, the colors, and the imagery used. so i'll just use a recent favorite which is:

29. THE 2015 JDRAMA.... i jokingly call it death note stampede because it feels like a remix of the source material in a similar way as trigun stampede, but as with stampede, i also really love it. for the most part the differences it makes are pretty interesting and i think it stands really well on its own. while i love how unapologetically evil canon light is i also love how tortured light is in this one and how much desperation is in his relationship with L. it's a fascinating take on death note! (and in many ways, a much more cohesive one) also a huge fan of the musical though

30. REM.... i love her so much. i would say naomi but i've yet to read the bb case (SORRY I WILL I PROMISE). also kiyomi had such fascinating potential but o&o are too misogynist to do anything about it 🥲 the pattern here is just female characters.

Favorite chapter/episode?

If you had a Death Note, what would you want your Shinigami to look like?

How long do you think you could get away with hiding a Death Note?

If your favorite character weren’t in Death Note, what anime/manga do you think they would thrive in?

A scene that makes you laugh.

Which is your favorite opening?

Your favorite kira?

The death that affected you the most.

What song(s) fit the vibe of your favorite character?

A character you would hang out with irl.

What moment surprised you the most?

What is a fanwork (edit, fic, art, etc.) that you still think about to this day? (Pls link to the original!)

Favorite ships?

What character do you think you look the most like?

Which character’s personality do you relate to?

A line from the series that stuck with you.

A question that was never answered, but you wonder about all the time.

If Death Notes came in different colors, what color would yours to be?

What would be your staple kira catching outfit?

Favorite potato chip flavor?

A Death Note fanwork that you’ve made and are proud of.

A favorite Death Note theory.

Your favorite interaction.

Who do you think had the best style?

At what point did you fall in love with Death Note?

Saddest moment for your favorite character.

Lay out the plot of Death Note using only emojis.

Favorite official art.

Favorite Death Note Spin off media.

A character that needs to be mentioned more.

#come get to know my death note opinions...#i just really want to talk about them LMAO #about me #death note

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yandere-yearnings · 3 days ago

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It Comes On Red Dragons (Male Yandere!Mafia Boss x GN!Reader)

feat. Laurent Sanchez

♡ oneshot, approx. 1.6k words

♡ post-specific warnings: mentions of blood and injury

♡ a/n: the promised christmas fic requested in this ask, i hope you enjoy it nonnie!! i'm super glad laurent is getting love, can you tell he's my favourite haha😭🩷 i had a lot of fun w/ this,, i might just make a part two next year. unedited, not proofread.

♡♡♡

“Take your pick.” Clover’s shoulder nudges yours as she walks past you to the balcony. You catch her eyes and melt a little at the gentleness in the amethyst. On the bed, there’s a few outfits splayed out for your choosing, tailored to a custom-fit that you’ve quickly come to learn is a formality specifically adopted by this mafia. You recalled hearing it was a teaching of the former head, one’s garment was one’s pride — or something of the sort.

The sheets on the mattress crinkled when you sat down, thumbing through layers of silk and satin, trying to make a choice between the cherry reds and chartreuse that stole your attention away from all the other various shades surrounding. Every piece was impeccable. Every piece was made especially for you, so whatever you settled on, you were sure to look good; that’s what Laurent had told you before he’d rushed out.

Three hours to the start of the party, and he still hadn’t returned.

Through frosted glass, you watched Clover’s silhouette lean out and shout muffled directions to the men below. Laughter floated up and the tones fell into one another, a symphony far from the nature of its source. Fabric wrinkled under your palm, you looked down, clenched your teeth and decided you’d just go for this one. What was the point of putting your energy into something you weren’t sure would even be seen by the person you wanted it to be?

When you stood, it was the mirror on the other side of the room that stared back at you. Trefoil-woven, solid dragons carved into a golden frame, so grand you instantly lost your reflection in it. Swallowed up in the quiver of your bottom lip, and the sting that no amount of blinking could soothe. Nails leaving angry red scratches in their wake whilst you stripped, putting on the clothes for the occasion was wrapping back the chains around your heart you were not supposed to let loosen. You had been told time and time again, if you continued to wait with flowers you would inevitably be bringing them to a grave. Even then, it wasn’t something you could help — being worried — you felt you had the right to be.

Behind you, Clover clears her throat, closing the sliding doors with her back turned to them. There’s a light dusting of snow dispersed in her neatly styled curls, half-melted, looking like glitter when she tilted her head at you. “You’re tense,” she assessed, advancing to you and smoothing out a crease on your sleeve, “still afraid?”

Her demeanour was ever graceful, and you took it in like it could ease your nerves. Wondering how Clover could remain as calm and unperturbed as always when her best friend was out there, when she’d watched him leave and knew his life would be hanging up as the largest target on the front lines. You supposed the uneasiness that was eating you up inside was something she had long been desensitised to. Somewhere, you were envious. If only you could have as much control as she did.

“I just…” your gaze fell to the patterned rug beneath your feet, and you licked your dry lips, “heard the gunshots.”

“Ah.” Clover returns your concern with a rare expression, akin to surprise. “The music’s not loud enough.”

You raised a brow. “You were trying to drown them out?”

“No,” she answers swiftly, “I was trying to make good use of the far-too expensive speaker system we had installed for tonight. This is Juan’s fault. Mariah Carey should’ve had everyone’s ears bleeding out by now.”

For the first time since noon had rolled around, you found yourself cracking a smile. “You’re not gonna chew him out, are you?” You followed Clover out to the landing where she tipped her head over the balustrade in search of the man in question. “I’m starting to think Juan might quit at this rate.”

“Please,” Clover dismissed the comment with a wave, “he likes Laurent too much to even consider it. Oh— speak of the devil.”

“What, did you find him already?” the laughter in your tone died when you finally caught sight of who Clover was pointing at. Rather than a frazzled Juan who you were expecting to see, it was Laurent — clutching his side and greeting the members on the lower floor with a smile as he entered the building with his entourage.

You’d run down the stairs so fast, Clover hadn’t even finished taking a headcount.

“Laurent!” Out of breath, your fingers grasping at his shoulders to pull him to his full height, then for leverage when your focus zeroed in on the blood seeping through the torn fibres of his suit.

“It’s nice to see you too,” his clean hand cupped your face, voice airy when he leaned closer to you, dimples making themselves known. “Hey. It’s okay. I’m alright. It’s just a graze.”

Chest falling, throat tight, reaching out to touch him and hearing him hitch on an inhale. “Don’t lie to me.” You bit your lip. “Don’t fucking—”

Laurent took your wrist. “If it’s more than that, I will still live,” he said, and brought it up to leave a kiss that smeared his lips in his own tinge of red, “we have some talented guys. Álvaro is always happy to see me.”

“I am not.” A tired voice cuts in, and you turn your head to see the mafia’s most trusted — and feared — doctor shining a torch into another member’s eye. “What? A chariot won’t fall out of the fucking sky for either of you,” he sighs as you remain rooted in the entryway, “haul ass to the med wing, I’m behind you.”

♡♡♡

You’d never seen tenderness on an angry man, but contrary to his own complaints, Álvaro had patched Laurent up meticulously. Thankfully, no one had been gravely injured on the job, and as much as your heart remained surging over Laurent’s wound, it had been largely nonfatal. He was lying down shirtless, trying to get you to concentrate on him rather than the injury — calling out your name, increasingly apologetic each second you went without responding.

“We’re so lucky it wasn’t a major evolution,” you sighed finally, when you’d snapped to, and stifled laughter had your sights turning to glare at the cause of your distress. “What?”

“I think—” Laurent curled away from you, and you almost mistook it for pain before he finished his sentence, giggling, “I think you meant avulsion.”

“Wow,” your brows rose in disbelief, “who died and made you medical professional? Actually, who’s fault do you think it is that everything Álvaro said went through one ear?”

Knuckle wiping a stray tear from the corner of his eye, he answered: “mine,” and then apologised softly. Genuinity that could not be mistaken pooled in the way he reached out for you, in warm skin and a pulse you never wanted to feel change pace. “Hey,” Laurent whispered, “don’t you wanna go join the party?”

“Not unless Santa himself comes and drags me away on his sleigh,” you huffed. “I’ll stay by you, can’t have you getting lonely here while everyone enjoys themselves, can we?”

“Are they?” he perked; had you cradling his face from the magnetism of his sincerity.

“Of course they are.” There was no doubt about it. Beyond the walls, Christmas festivities were in full swing amongst the members. It was almost strange, to hear Jingle Bell Rock being sung as loudly as it was by the mafia of all groups, yet, you supposed this was what Laurent worked so hard for. Any sacrifice for these small securities, so that under his roof, everyone could return to their roots — simply people trying to survive amongst people. You admired that.

Carding through his hair, soft brown locks kissing back at your fingertips, you tracked the tension deliquesce and run off his shoulders easy. “Anyway,” Laurent lurches when you skim over the reddened skin peeking from his bandages. His dragon has colour bursting from it now, it looks alive. “There goes our outfit coordination plan.”

“We can still do that.”

“Yeah,” you snicker, gesturing to yourself, “let me just take this off and we can both match.”

“Why is that the first place your mind goes?” sitting up with a chuckle, he shakes his head. “I’ll go change. We should spend the night celebrating with everyone.”

Trailing behind him needlessly with the intention of, likely unsuccessfully, catching him if he fell, you found yourselves stopped at the doorway in little time, exchanging looks. Outside, there was quiet shuffling and a not-so-quiet clash of badly hushed profanities. Some of the voices you could recognise instantly; Juan’s ever apprehensive commentary undercut by a group dismissal, Diego’s snickering and a tired sound of bewilderment from Clover. From your peripheral, you caught Laurent’s eyes crinkle, hiding brilliant emerald as he let his weight rest on the frame, waiting in patience for the crowd to disperse on the other side.

“They never let up, do they?” Laurent’s expression was entirely endeared when he opened the door at last, staring up at the mistletoe that hung overhead, and then at you.

“I like that about them,” you confessed, drawing closer, “works in my favour.”

Your lips touched, delicate, unknotting all the agonising thoughts bundled up inside of you. Careful where you rested your palm, the pads of your fingers brushed up against gauze and you let it be. Taught your heart that it could hold its silence — that all it was is that your gift this Christmas came on red dragons.

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eurydicees · 2 days ago

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oh dont apologise i loved your essay 😭 and i 100% agree with everything. Theres such a innate theme of choices and consequences in wicked the musical and its so fascinating to me how choices made by all the characters have such profound consequences at the end. And fiyero’s choices are no different in the way they alter the trajectory of multiple characters.

He is really the only one i can think of who sacrifices everything for elphaba and does it all willingly. How do you like elphaba and then dislike the one character who was ready to give up his whole life and everything that came with it for her 😭

Twitter is very binary in that regard honestly, and its such a shame that they miss out on some pretty interesting character analysis about their favourite characters bc they decide to be so rigid and weird about other characters who had an impact on their faves. Couldnt be me lol, making multiple threads about a character you hate. I also think something else is at play here but dont wanna say it publicly lol but given your other responses i think you’d probably agree.

And yes totally agree about dividing the film in two parts - i can only hope the film watchers stick around for part 2 and see fiyero’s whole arc

thanks for the ask! also i wrote another fiyero ted talk. if i were like charles dickens or whoever and i was getting paid by the word to write about fiyero, i could be so goddamn rich btw.

anyways, choices and consequences!!!!! like that's the whole thing!!!!!!! and the way our choices affect and change other people!!!! fiyero isn't an exception to any of that!!!!

you're so right that fiyero is truly the one who makes the ultimate sacrifices for elphaba. like glinda loves elphaba, she absolutely does. but she isn't able to take on the work and life that elphaba chooses in defying gravity.

when it comes to the things that are most important to her, glinda prioritizes comfort and reputation over, like, morality and principle. and the thing about glinda is that she actively makes this choice. she chooses not to go with elphaba. she wants elphaba to succeed, but she's not brave enough to join her. in order for glinda to find the bravery to take up the work elphaba starts, she has to lose everything that actually matters. and she has to be complicit in her own losing of those things.

fiyero loves elphaba to the point of sacrificing all of those things that glinda can't resist. the day with the lion cub, and elphaba's general influence on him, changes fiyero profoundly in a similar way that she affects glinda, but fiyero finds the bravery to act on all of that. the difference is that he doesn't get the choice to go with her until mid-act 2 after wonderful.

in thank goodness, there's that one exchange between fiyero and glinda where they say smth like "you just can't resist all of this" "well who could?" "you know who could, and who has." and he's talking about elphaba, he's talking about how she had all the love she ever wanted at the tip of her fingers when she met the wizard, and she chose to let it go because she saw the ugly parts of the wizard's world. and this exchange is so clearly boiling it down to "elphaba resisted the temptation of being universally/publically loved and glinda did not." which tbh is something so in character for a person who has never had that, and a person who has always had that and thus doesn't want to leave it behind.

ok i was going somewhere with this but i don't remember where. just. fiyero isn't a perfect character. and for SURE the choice to erase gelphie's romantic subtext from the book when adapting it for broadway was an act of homophobia. but if we're just looking at musical canon, fiyero is brave enough to give up everything first to save elphaba, then to go with her, and then to protect her. and so-called elphaba stans don't think that's good enough. which is CRAZY to me.

also like. he's literally not the comphet love interest. sorry you didn't mention that but i keep seeing people throw those words around and like that's not what's happening here guys. elphaba loves him. she sings a whole song about it. multiple, even.

comphet implies that she mistakenly thinks she loves him because society has molded her into believing that's how she should be (fyi if anyone's experiencing that, it's glinda but i digress). elphaba, who notably has never been able to comply to the mold society makes for women, because she's never been pretty white woman enough to be afforded a place in that society? you mean that elphaba?

guys elphaba just...loves him. that's all there is to it. she loves him when she realizes he's more than he thinks he is, more than the airs he puts off. she loves him when she feared he might have changed, she loves him when he proves he did change--for the better. she loves him when he sticks by her, when he chooses her. she loves him when he's a fucking SCARECROW. ("go ahead, touch, i don't mind" "you're still beautiful" lives in my head rent fucking free).

when she has her breakthrough "okay. fuck this world that has never been good to me, if you want me to be wicked, i'll be wicked" moment, it's because she loses fiyero. she gets betrayed by nessa, and she fails dillamond, and she loses fiyero--and it's then that she loses sight of what good she had begun fighting for. it's a love for fiyero that drives most of no good deed (broadway songs of all time btw). like sorry but you dont sing someone's name like that if you don't love them. that's just musical theatre rules. trust me i was a theatre major.

anyways. sorry for that detour. back to the point. twitter treats everything as so black and white which is crazy because this is a revisionist musical about how evil isn't black and white. like?????? whatever. imagine being so bitter about a character you dislike that you want to change fundamental pieces of your favorite character so that he isn't relevant.

look. gelphie is great doomed yuri and i support that so hard. but dont try to tell me fiyero isn't deeply important to elphaba and to understanding elphaba's character. tbh the love triangle here isn't fiyero choosing between glinda and elphaba. it's more like elphaba choosing between glinda and fiyero and what either of them represent to her (glinda and working within the system, or fiyero, and abandoning it).

and hot take maybe but like ultimately--as someone who has never been conventionally accepted, as someone who has been hunted down to be murdered, as someone who has been the victim of a smear campaign and propaganda against her character/intentions, all of which was in part driven by glinda--she was always going to choose fiyero.

i respect gelphie shippers, i do. in another world, maybe one without the wizard, they could've been so happy together. i'm with y'all. but given canon, even if all others fall, i will be the last fiyero defender standing. god i hope movie-only fans watch part 2 and at least learn to RESPECT him. at the bare minimum. please. please. please.

#ask #oops sorry this took so long to get to #wicked #fiyero tigelaar #fiyeraba

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 1 day ago

Text

@zepskies

Merry Christmas to you too my wonderful friend!🎄💗

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're killin' me, friend!! 😭😭

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

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

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

Oh, it's because he actually cares. 💗

He does, man is a total SIMP 😊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Word Count: 8.5K

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

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

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Song Inspiration: Little Things By ABBA

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

Soldier Boy POV

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

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

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

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

Ben's jaw tightened.

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

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

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

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

But this year was different, because he had you.

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

Ben wasn't used to that.

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

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

And yet there you were.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whatever the fuck that meant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey." Ben grunts, not quite smiling.

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

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

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

Ben shakes it off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Last minute shopping?" Hughie asks trying again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ben, wait a minute." Annie says.

"What?" He snaps

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

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

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

"Then why the fuck did she-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, right." Annie sighs.

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

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

"What?" Annie sputtered.

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

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

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

Soldier Boy POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why are we here then?" Hughie asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"She will."

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

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

"Whatever." Ben mutters.

Reader POV

Ben was late and you were starting to worry.

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

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

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

But you liked annoying him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shopping for Ben had been difficult to say the least.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You'd gone all out with decorations.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ben chuckles "Miss me Petals?"

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

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

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

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

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

Ben frowns. "I'm sorry."

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

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

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

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

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

"You first!" You say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You got me a cactus?" Ben snorts.

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

"Why did you give it a sweater?"

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

"From?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I-"

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

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

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

You hesitate to open it.

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

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

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

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

You think to yourself as you open the box.

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

Simple, stately, and completely you.

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

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

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

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

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

"You? But-"

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

"Really?"

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

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

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

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

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

"But-" You stutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don't answer.

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

Your cheeks flush.

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

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

"But you don't like it-"

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

"Really?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ben?" You question.

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

"Merry Christmas Ben."

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

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

Taglist for Take A Chance On Me:

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#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fic #the boys fanfiction #the boys tv #christmas fluff #annie january #hughie campbell

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mihachansstuff · 3 days ago

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So I finished reading a danmei novel for the very first time (it's SVSSS)

Spoiler Alert

(And incoming rant...)

So I just finished reeading the volume 4 of SVSSS, and even before i finished it i knew i have to talk about it and let my thoughts out somehow and here we are. My danmei journey started not too long ago with MDZS donghua before i found myself buying physical copies of SVSSS. Although my first novel was 2ha but I read till volume 6 to keep it on hold and finished this one instead.

Now that i am done, before i make it too long i will just leave some snippets of audacious thoughts here which may or may not be agreed upon -

I really wanted to like LBH, but in the end I just couldn't, some parts and traits of his character just don't sit well with me. I mainly hate his manipulative part, and I just don't understand why someone like Shen Yuan/SQQ falls for it again and again.

Zhuzhi lang is indeed a lovable character, but I just can't forgive him for killing Gongyi Xiao. The only time I shed tears while reading this novel was when we hear about his death and how SQQ was then remembering how GYX told him he would visit his peak after everything is over. (I was still holding on to that hope that he will be miraculously alive *sob*)

I found Tianlang-Jun to be a decent character, even more decent than his own son. I mean, yeah LBH went through traumatic periods but TLJ also went through miserable times while sealed. But in the end he just let all of it go while his son kept getting jealous and vicious towards every human being close to SQQ.

SQH and MBJ is a good ship. I would love to know more about them I need more Moshang content (this everyone will agree i know)

In that one interview chapter at volume 4 SQH's comment about Bingqiu being the kindergartner and his teacher, I can't agree more. Also his comment about how dating LBH must be exhausting and annoying was so true that I just don't understand why SQQ accepts all this 😭😭

I wish I could learn more about Liu Mingyan's thought process while writing Regrets of Chunshan.

I saw a Youtube comment that said - "In SVSSS, almost every character can be shipped with SQQ" and I couldn't agree more! SQQxYQY, SQQxLQG and etc. all are good ship material.

I felt like there were more background plots that could be explored (like what happened to Huan Hua Palace after, or how TLJ was doing, or some more info and background about certain characters etc). In this way I feel like Shen Yuan, heh

The novel art is pretty, but the way LBH was described about his looks and beauty, I somehow didn't feel it through the art. My fav character ranking according to art would be Tianlang Jun→Mobei Jun→SQQ, even though I really like curly hair.

At this point people might think I am a LBH hater, but really I am not, or at least I don't want to be. But I just really think SQQ deserved a better peaceful life at CQ Mountain, around his disciples and sect brothers that really adore him like a family. I really hated the ending in Vol 3 where SQQ left the mountain with LBH in this respect. Well at least in vol 4 it said that the two come to the mountain from time to time so I guess I can calm down a bit.

I really, really like Shen Qingqiu. He's a diva. But I just don't understand...some of his choices. But I guess I will just leave it at that.

This is my first time finishing a danmei novel as I mentioned already, so please go easy on me, even though I may have said things that might spark an argument. Overall I think it was a good experience and I'm looking forward to reading more novels. Feel free to give me some recommendations!

#svsss #mxtx svsss #danmei #i might have said something to incur wrath #scum villian self saving system #scumbag system

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shycloudkitty · 3 days ago

Text

You're too sweet for a monster like me (part 2)

Pairing: Vendetta Leon × Fem reader

Tags: Mentions of depression, overall fluff maybe a bit angsty, Ice skating, Leon being agile af to do that in his first try, a bit inaccurate related to ice skating but spare me🙏 (If you find some mistakes please spare me😭 english is not my native language)

Part 1 of YTS

A/N: The first part did better than I expected, so here's the second part. I have to stop going on hiatus lol. Also, I have never ice skated, though I know rollerblading ☝🤓

Also there are some words in pink and blue, pink are the reader's thoughts, while blue are Leon's thoughts.

Edit: Christmas themed dividers from @/anitalenia

WC: 2.6K

You quietly sigh, rubbing his back while hugging him, trying to make him feel better about himself. In all seriousness you can’t bear to see him like this–Wasting away and giving up.

He can't give up on himself. You can't let that happen.

You turn his face so you can look at him properly and give a soft smile. “Why don't we go out somewhere? It's been a long time since we had a date and Christmas is around the corner. Plus…I think we need a change of scenery. Let's go to a park.”

Leon looked at you a bit surprised and then down at the half empty glass of whiskey, debating with himself if he wanted to go outside.

But you are having none of it. You weren't going to let him stay here and get more depressed than ever. A change of scenery is what you both need.

You give him your best sweet puppy, mustering up in the moment. You add a small pout and make your eyes look sad and say softly. “Please.”

Leon groans immediately, pinching the bridge of his nose when he sees that look—the famous puppy eyes you always use to get your work done every time. “That's cheating.” he says

He never understood why it works. Like he's a grown ass man who has killed dozens of zombies and what not. He should be immune. But, apparently, military life didn't build him for these kinds of attacks.

You innocently smile and say. “What? I'm just politely asking.”

Leon snorts. “Uh huh…right. Your ‘polite asking’ uses emotional blackmail.”

You gasped dramatically, bringing a hand on your chest. “Little ol’ me? Blackmail? Heavy accusations, Mr. Kennedy.”

Leon rolled his eyes, a small smirk tugging at his lips and pulled you in his lap. “Right. You're so innocent.”

You grin and playfully roll your eyes at him. “Of course I'm innocent.”

Leon snorts but doesn't say anything.

You grip his shoulders and shake him lightly. “Oh come on… let's go outside. Look, it's almost Christmas, so there will be pretty decorations. Don't they have that ice rink too? Come on…it’ll be funny kids and their parents falling flat on their faces. ”

You hear him chuckling a bit at your words, his lips curling into a smile and…finally it feels like that the man you knew is in front of you again. Life slowly returning to him…

Leon smirks and says. “Sounds kinda harsh, you know. What did the kids do?”

You roll your eyes. “That's not the point. Can we pleasssseee go?”

Leon sighs and says. “Fine. Fine. But we're just gonna walk around the park…and no ice skating.”

Like hell you guys won't go ice skating.

Leon sees the immediate change in your expression, going from pleading like a puppy to almost elated and he couldn't help but chuckle.

Somehow you were the only one who could bring this side of him no matter how far he was gone. He had always wondered ‘why?’ part of it. But it's probably useless to ask that question by now.

You immediately get up from his lap and take his hand and start tugging him towards the bedroom. “Good, let's get dressed then.”

You both are bundled in warm clothes, walking towards the park hand in hand.

Leon looked down at you, taking in your eager expression to get to the park. You looked adorable–like a kitten. No, literally, you were wearing that cute little pink beanie with kitten ears. That beanie always made him smile no matter what, it looked so childish but suits you perfectly.

He gently flicks at one of the ears and smiles to himself. Doing it again and again till you look up at him with a narrowed-eyed expression and say. “Do it again and I will make you wear this.”

Leon grins to himself, feeling satisfied. He looks ahead, holding your hand tighter and walking towards the park. “Nope, I'm good.”

Soon, you both find yourselves walking in the park, taking in the lively scenery with each other.

People of all ages walking around, kids laughing and playing with their parents or grandparents. It was a bit crowded but it's manageable.

You look up at him with a smile. “This is nice right.”

He nods but doesn't say anything, looking around the snow and decorations, the hustle bustle of people distracts his mind a bit. Maybe this was a good idea. He admits he wouldn't have thought of going to a damn park in the middle of a depressive episode.

You notice his shoulders relaxing, and his facial expressions easing up a bit. Mentally, you pat yourself on the back for the first step to make him feel like his old self again.

You squeezed his hand to get his attention. “Do you like snow?”

Leon blinks then looks down at you. “Oh..uhh… I don't know.” He never really thought about mundane things like this, never had time to do that. Maybe when he was a kid? Probably.

He shrugs. “Eh, never gave it much thought, but if snow gets in between my missions and delays it then maybe? But I'm also a bit frustrated then. So, mixed feelings.”

There were times when his missions got delayed because snow had blocked some crucial areas. He used to be a bit relieved when that used to happen, as it was rare for him to catch a breath but also a bit frustrated that he probably won't be able put an end to the mission on time.

You snort and say. “Do you always think like that? Comparing everything to how it would help in a mission? Doesn't it get exhausting?”

He looks at you with a small frown, a small huff leaving his lips. Well it was exhausting but he's not gonna tell her that. He doesn’t like being called out like this and definitely not by his own damn girlfriend. “Try having a world saving job, then we'll talk, sweetheart.”

You chuckle, knowing he was a bit pissed. “What do you mean? Are you implying that I don't have one?”

Leon raises an eyebrow and scoffs. “Do you?”

You smirk and nudge him. “Going on dates, being with you is a pretty important world saving job, my darlingggg.” sweetening up your voice some more in the end and batting your eyelashes at him.

He rolls his eyes and laughs. God you were so cheesy. He looked down at you with a smile and says. “Yeah, you right. Pretty important job. But I pay you enough cuddles and kisses for it.”

You smile, leaning close and kiss his cheek. “That you do. Here's your payback too.” You definitely see him blushing after that. No matter how much he denies it, it never gets old to see him look away, trying to stifle the wide grin threatening to take over his face. It was cute.

You both reach the makeshift ice rink, Looking around seeing little kids trying to skate with the help of their parents. Falling on their faces but getting up with a big smile on their face and some cried, but most of them were enjoying themselves.

“Jeez, I thought you knew how to stand straight.” he grumbles a bit before holding your waist with both hands to help you balance.

You were clutching his shoulders, desperately trying not to fall. “I'm trying my best okay?! I didn't know ice was this slippery, it's my first ti- Ah!” You slip again, nearly pulling him down with you, but his grip on you was strong enough for you to not fall on your butt.

He grunts, before wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you against his body. “Don't worry, darling, I got you.”

You cling to him like a baby who doesn't know how to walk, falling again and again before you could even take one step. “Don't let me fall, okay?”

He rubs your back, keeping your face buried in his chest. “I have your back, sweetheart.”

Your heartbeat slowly returned to normal, closing your eyes for a moment. “I don't think I can do it, this was a bad idea.”

Leon looks at you, seeing you grumbling & pouting from disappointment. His heart melts from seeing his sunshine upset. He kisses your forehead and smiles. “No, no, no this was a wonderful idea, okay? It's fine you can do it, I'm right here I won't let you fall. Look, see it's my first time too alright. If I can do it then you can too.”

Oh yeah, it was his first time ice skating too and he's doing ten times better than you.

You look up at him from his chest and narrow your eyes. “How are you not falling on your ass like me?”

He chuckled. “What? You want both of us to land in a hospital?”

You rolled your eyes and glared at him light-heartedly. “Nooo but it makes me suspicious. Did you used to do this with your exes?”

Leon burst into a laugh. “Sweetheart, you're like the only stable relationship I ever had. Plus, this is improvising.” He kisses your cheek. “Now come on, I know you can do it.” Giving you a final pat on the back before pulling back.

He had a tight grip as you slowly stood up straight, balancing yourself with his help. You breathe a sigh of relief. “Okay… What do I do now?”

He tilts your chin with his finger, making you look in his blue eyes. “Breathe, you can do it. Your legs are strong enough to skate, don't stand too rigid or you'll fall.”

Slowly, you feel his words empowering you, helping you be more sure of yourself. You feel more confident now, your legs gaining the strength and flexibility needed for ice skating.

Leon smiles seeing you grow more comfortable, his grip then shifts from your waist to both of your hands. “See you're doing it…Good job.”

You look up at him and say. “Yeah but I doubt I will be able to do more than this.”

He chuckles. “Don't worry, you have me…Now just believe in yourself and in me, when I said I won't let you fall I won't. Now, slowly take the first step.” He slowly starts to skate with your hands in his.

Your legs are a bit wobbly at first but you do it, looking in his eyes for reassurance and finding nothing but pure love and encouragement in his eyes.

He slowly nods and smiles at you. “Good… just keep it going.”

Slowly, you start to grow more confident in your footing and follow his steps efficiently. You were still a bit nervous and there were small bumps here and there but you had gotten the hang of it by now.

Leon slowly starts to skate a bit faster, feeling your hand gripping his tightly whenever he does. But he simply squeezes your hand & passes a smile.

Slowly, you both fall into a comfortable pace as you skate together. You grew more confident and laugh softly. “This is great!”

Leon just had a smile of his own watching you laugh and skate with him. It was as if nothing else mattered in this moment, except the two of you. He quietly savored this rare moment of tranquility and peace.

You were sitting on the bench, watching the decorated Christmas tree with lights and ornaments in front of you. Leon said he had something to take care of, so you were waiting for him to come back.

After a few moments, he came back and sat down next to you quietly, watching the tree lights twinkle in front of him with you. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close to him.

You shift closer to him and rest your head on shoulder. “Everything alright?”

He slowly nods, kissing your forehead. “Never been more alright than this.” He rubs your sides and continues. “Thank you for today. I really needed this date.”

You smiled up at him. “You're welcome. Although, a part of me did think you were starting to regret it considering how much of a wreck I was at Ice skating.”

You feel his chest rumble as he laughs. “You kidding me? That was the best part!”

You raise an eyebrow and huff, pretending to be mad. “Are you saying, me making a fool out of myself was the best part?”

He was still shamelessly smiling, not regretting anything he said. “Yes, but I also liked the part when I helped you skate.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Fair enough.”

He softly sighed, resting his chin on top of your head. These were the moments that reminds him what he was truly fighting for. He was fighting for moments when you both hugged, kissed, cuddled, roasting each other for fun or when you both were simply together and talked just about anything.

He was fighting for you.

He was fighting to protect that precious smile of yours, to keep that sweet innocence of yours safe from the ugly horrors of the world. And if protecting it meant that he had to be a pawn in bigger scheme of things or that he had to be a monster to fight those who created monstrosity to wreck havoc. He was okay with fighting all of it.

As long as you were safe and sound, he was ready to fight anything that threatened your peace. And he wasn't someone who would go down easily without a fight. Your love made him the bravest soldier.

He blinks, as his train of thoughts stopped when he felt you nudging him. He looked down at you. “Hmm?”

You shrugged. “You want to go home now? It's getting a bit late.”

He paused then smiles. “Actually, there was something.”

You looked at him puzzled. “What is it?”

He smirks, then takes out the small mistletoe from his coat pocket he brought earlier and raised it above their heads and playfully said. “Oh my my, who could have hanged this mistletoe here of all places?”

You could barely contain your grin and continue the ruse. “Hmm…Who could it truly be, Do you know?”

Leon shakes his head, smirking at you while still holding the mistletoe above their heads. “No, but it seems like fate, no? It appeared all of a sudden and that too just for us. How strange…Well anyways it seems like we have to do the tradition now.”

You roll your eyes at him your smile barely contained. “Uh huh. Right. The tradition.” He was so smug, it was taking everything not to laugh in his face.

He grins, seeing you try to control yourself and pulls you closer to his body. “Mmm, that's what the traditions are about after all.” His voice lowering and getting sultry.

Your breathing quickened as his other hand brushes some hair out of your face, his thumb gently caressing your bottom lip. Tilting your face towards him. You give him a smile and softly whisper. “Well then, we have to do it. What are you waiting for?”

He smiled and leaned closer. “To hear that.” And gently presses his lips close to yours, kissing you softly. And it's like the world around you both fades once again. You cup his face and kiss him back, slowly deepening the kiss. He wrapped his arms around you holding you gently in his embrace as he pours all the love he has to give you.

Everything that led upto this moment was all worth it to him.