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dooberific · 1 day ago

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Hiiiiiii!! Can I ask for Harumasa x Reader angst? They are lovers and the reader is also Harumasa's colleague. Then the reader got commissioned(?) to fight hollows but she got stuck in that place and (idk if they went to fight hollows alone but for this request, they have like underlings(?) that would go with them for the mission) the people/fighters that the reader went with to the hollows came back heavily injured and Harumasa saw that the reader is not there with them. That is all hehe, it's up to you if you want the reader to be found or if they would be a hollow and Harumasa has to fight them knowing that that is the reader (I'm a sucker for angst)

Take your time doing this request and stay healthy, dear author!

Anon….who hurt you on Christmas? 😭. Hope this is close to what you were envisioning!

❝ 𝘚𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 ❞

harumasa x afab!reader

genre: hurt no comfort, major character death

summary: it was supposed to be a routine mission, now he’s left to pick up the pieces

wc: 2.3k

There was a ring cut to your size. A thin and silver little band that lacked grandiose ornamentation. Diamonds and frills were never your thing after all, he could still see the little quirk in your lips at the memory of your colleagues rushing in with stones so large you thought them better fit for paperweights than proclamations of their belonging to another under the banner of love and marriage. “Practicality above all else,” you had claimed some months ago, thumbing at the simple band around your index finger. Your late mother’s ring.

He hoped you were the sentimental kind, your voice warbled over the line from the outpost in his ear as he smiled. “I’m just saying to be careful is all.” He asserted, fingers running aimlessly over the silver band resting in his palm. Your initials and his were cut into the inside.

It was supposed to be your day off, the first you had taken in several months, but when H.A.N.D phoned you that they needed your section of the HSO to assemble for a rescue mission after a Defense Force team had vanished inside of Hollow Zero, well….you didn’t get the luxury of saying no, even if you were the Chief.

“When am I not careful? Remember which one of us you’re talking to here, Haru.” You chided, the smile on your face so present he could hear it change the lilt of your voice.

“Right, right, I’m talking to my beautiful, kind, intelligent and all around perfect girlfriend~” Though he hoped that title would be changing very soon, as he held the ring up to the light, the sun filtering through the window of your shared apartment dancing enticingly over its surface.

You giggled in his ear, the sound warming him to the soul. He could practically see the way the corners of your eyes wrinkled in delight. “That’s much better.”

The interference in the background of the call amplified, faint callings of your name cutting through the static. You sounded disappointed. “Sorry Haru, I gotta go.”

“It’s okay baby, duty calls. Just try to be home for dinner.”

“Wouldn’t miss a date night for the world, you better not peek in the closet while I’m gone! I want that dress to be a pleasant surprise later.”

You fell quiet again as you pulled the receiver away from your mouth, yelling a response into the background. “They’re about to have an aneurysm over here,” you huffed.

“I love you, Haru~”

“I love you too, (y/n)~”

That was a little after noon. It was now nearing midnight and the outpost was crawling with H.A.N.D uniforms and HSO stragglers. Countless outpost scientists shouldered through the crowd, chiming off readings and acting as if they just had a some great scientific breakthrough.

But you were still inside of Hollow Zero.

And H.A.N.D was beginning to withdraw.

Even flashing his Section 6 badge failed to get him answers despite his insistence, earning little more than the shake of a head and a “this is above your paygrade, kid.”

They threatened to court martial him if he kept accosting them. But they didn’t have you inside the Hollow like he did. The epitome of his happiness, the one he swore hung the moon and stars, his most constant companion, and the only one he could imagine waking up beside of until the day he expired.

They didn’t have you, but they had the version of you that made their actions palatable. The “good soldier” and “valiant leader”. The slave to a public that didn’t care to know your name even as you shouldered their burdens as ceaselessly as atlas held the heavens. The one who signed up for a death job.

A chorus of shouts erupted, the flash of the medical units blazing to life under the white spotlights.

Survivors.

He shouldered his way through the swell of the crowd with little regard for those he pushed aside. In a perfect world he would break from the crowd and see you standing there, a little worse for wear but alive and smiling like you just cheated the world. You would push past the medic teams as they chased you down to throw your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his lips as you gloated playfully.

“See? What’d I tell you? Safe and sound.”

But you weren’t there. A cluster of five soldiers stumbled through the outer bounds of the Hollow—no, those weren’t soldiers, they were members of your faction carrying the torn uniforms of Defense Force operatives. They dripped with blood and grime, corruption marring their skin as they limped out, half-dragging others.

“Hey!” He yelled over the roar of the crowd as he grabbed one of them by the shoulder. His name badge shined under the lights. Kimura.

“Where’s your chief?”

The man shoved his hand away, “Get off me man!”

He didn’t know where he got the strength as he grappled with Kimura before taking two fistfuls of his collar. “Where’s your fucking Chief? Where’s (y/n)?!”

Multiple pairs of hands tore at his uniform from behind as they hauled him off, legs kicking as he wrestled against their pull.

“Where is she?”

“She’s stayed behind!”

Kimura’s face was blank, his eyes distant and foggy as he stared at the ground. There were tears streaming down his face as he drew a ragged breath. “I’ve never seen so many ethereals, we were overran so quickly…Chief (l/n) and Deputy Chief Kato created a diversion to draw them away so we could get out.”

Kimura looked up with red rimmed eyes.

“I am so sorry.”

Hollow Zero had mutated. Or that was the story they were telling everyone now. The sensors at the outpost had registered a dramatic spike in etheric energy about 30 minutes after Section 2 had infiltrated, and by the next 20 the bangboo that accompanied you had stumbled out with fried circuits, the carrot it followed now expired as the interior of the hollow rearranged.

It was supposed to be a standard recovery operation. You had done them hundreds of times in the past.

“I’m sorry, Asaba. My hands are tied.” The officer said with a shake of his head. “No one’s allowed in unless they are operating with their faction. You’re the only one from Section 6 here.”

He gripped his bow tighter. “Then I suggest you turn around and pretend you didn’t see me then.”

It felt like an electric current thrummed under his skin as he breached the Hollow. He didn’t bother to call the proxy or wait for the association to form a new carrot. There was no point, even as desperately as he clinged to the idea of you being unharmed, alive, there was still a rotten crawl of doubt in the back of his mind that made the thought of wandering forever as an ethereal within Hollow Zero a more palatable choice than leaving here without you.

He didn’t know how long he had wandered through the hollow, hair matted to his forehead from sweat as he cleared another broken wall, trying to survey as much of the warped landscape as he could. He doubled over, hands braced against his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He had overextended himself already, his chest constricted tightly as his breathing became shallow, a sharp ringing in his ears. He screwed his eyes shut, focusing on getting his lungs back under control.

In and out.

There was a distant cry that met his ears, strangled and distorted, one that twisted his gut in an iron grip as his head shot up.

You.

He didn’t know what he hoped to find when he fumbled over the rubble in your direction. Finding you was the sole focus of his mind for the past few hours, the rush of adrenaline carrying his mind past rational thought.

You. You. You.

It urged his tired legs forward, kept him standing as he rounded the corner and saw the torn back of your uniform jacket stretched unnaturally over your crumpled form.

Even with your back to him he would have recognized you anywhere, even as your body contorted unnaturally, muscles spasming wildly as a distorted cry pierced the air. Your hands clawed as the ground, ugly black shards piercing your skin from within, nailbeds black and bloody where your fingertips had rubbed raw in the dirt.

He knew better than to approach you, to roll you to your back as your body seized and writhed in his grasp, more warbled cries piercing the air.

Your eyes were glassy and unfocused as his hands cupped your cheeks. Your skin was hot to the touch, corruption running thickly in your veins and curling out of your skin like ugly black horns.

He shushed you gently, cradling your head in his arms as your hands tore at his sides, teeth gnashing wildly as the corruption ate away at your humanity before his very eyes.

“When I turn into an ethereal one day, I want to you promise that you’ll kill me.”

You lifted your head off his chest. “You sure have a strange idea of pillow talk, Haru.”

He snorted, hands tracing down the curve of your spine as you shivered. “Yeah, I know but still…I don’t want to wander in a Hollow forever like some mindless husk. That’s no way to live.”

You bit your cheek, stretching up to peck him on the lips, his hands gently brushing your hair aside as he grinned against your lips.

“Then I trust you to do the same for me.”

He hated himself. He hated that he remembered that conversation you had over a year ago, begging himself to twist the truth, to convince his own mind that you didn’t know the weight of your words. But deep down he knew he couldn’t deny it, deny you, of the peaceful passing he had asked you to offer him.

This shouldn’t be an issue for him to face. It shouldn’t be you in the throes of corruption, screaming and tearing at him like an animal as your senses fled you body.

You were supposed to outlive him. The scales of nature were stacked unmistakably in your favor.

Tears wet your cheeks, but they didn’t belong to you. Hot and salty tears poured down his face as his breath stuttered. Everything about this was wrong, like his worst nightmares spawning into a hellish reality as he begged any god that might exist for an easy way out, begged you for forgiveness, for you to answer him with that same gentle smile that was reserved just for quiet moments with him.

Apologies burned him from the inside out, like venom on his tongue as he peeled your hands off of him and backed away. His hands trembled so violently he could scarcely nock an arrow, his entire body weak. His vision swam, whether it was from the ether corruption that had dinned his hearing or from the tears that didn’t seem to stop he wasn’t sure.

His lip quivered, breathing unsteady as he stared down at you, your form clawing at the earth before pushing shakily onto your knees. You moved more like a marionette than a human, the skin on your neck crumbling under a sheen of black as the core began to manifest.

Mournful cries dripped from your cyanotic lips as a hand extended in his direction. It was a moment of lucidity, fingers flexing against the veins of corruption under your flesh.

“Haru, I’m so s-sorry.”

The arrow whistled sharply as his fingers released the bowstring.

They both sat on the table on your side of the bed, the metal cold and lifeless under his dull gaze.

“Asaba, I know this is hard, but there are people who you can talk to. That can help you.” The voice of Yanagi echoed from the answering machine in the hallway. He let his cellphone die weeks ago.

“We are just worried about you. Please, call me back.”

Your favorite coffee cup still sat beside the pot in the kitchen, the rim stained pink from your favorite lipstick. Your toothbrush still sat in the cup beside his, your shampoo still in the shower. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb the bag hanging in the closet, you didn’t want him to spoil the surprise of the dress you bought in excitement at the prospect of going out to dinner after all.

His medicine bottles sat empty in the bathroom trashcan, the contents lost to the sewers of New Eridu by now.

His lungs heaved tiredly, a deep wheeze whistling in the back of his throat. His vision never stopped swimming, even after he carried you out of the Hollow, an arrow embedded between your glossy eyes as your blood stained his clothes.

His thumb pressed the space between your eyebrows, your nose wrinkling, eyes warm as you stared at him from your side of the bed, hair fanned across your cheeks.

“Haru, it’s not good for you to lay around all the time.” You whispered, leaning into his touch as his hand drifted to cup your cheek, thumb teasing your lower lip before you pressed a kiss to the pad.

“Get up, you need to eat.”

He knew it wasn’t real, that you weren’t real, but he smiled like you were anyways. Like your lips were warm as you leaned in and brushed them against his, like there was weight behind the pull of your hands as he rolled out of bed for the first time in days.

There was a ring cut to your size, and for a little while longer he would pretend it was nestled on your finger.

Rey 2024, crossposted to ao3

#asaba harumasa #zenless zone zero #zzz harumasa #harumasa x reader #zzz #zzz x reader #harumasa zzz

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powluna · 1 day ago

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BEST OF 2024 - My Favorite Creations

The year 2024 is slowly coming to an end. And what a year it has been—both on a personal level and as a content creator. This year, I accomplished many things, including successfully completing my bachelor’s degree. Despite many dark days and moments when dark thoughts haunted me, there was one thing that consistently brought me joy and remained a beautiful constant in my life: creating custom content for you and, of course, for myself. It’s so much fun to create things that I feel are missing. This year, I’ve learned many new things, improved my own skills and also helped some of you get started as CC creators.

With the resources available to me, it has always been my goal to help others and do good. This year, for the first time, I was able to save a personally significant amount of money thanks to my work as a content creator, and donate it to children in need. Children are our future, yet sadly, not every child has the privilege of growing up in a safe and healthy environment. Every time I become aware of this, a cold shiver runs down my spine. A dreadful thought. Therefore, it makes me even prouder that I can do good with my work.

For the future, I aim to continue doing good and working hard so I can help others—even more with each passing year. A big THANK YOU to each and everyone of you that supports my work. Whether it’s direct financial support, a like, or a kind comment—I deeply value every interaction.

This year, I was able to create over 140 package files for our favorite game. Even though I certainly like all my creations as they are, there are a few personal favorites that stand out for me.

I made a big post on my website where I show you my favorite sets and tell some background stories about them. Check it out if you're interested!

Thank you again for all the support ♥

PowLuna

#ts4 #powluna #powluna rl

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littlemissaiko · 13 hours ago

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Sneak peak of the first chapter because why not 🥰🥰

You swing to a high roof, the highest you can find, for the view of the shitty city you have to protect now . sitting down on the edge, you let your legs dangle, looking at the very gray (very comfortable looking. atleast from this height) asphalt on the street below. You're holding a small paper bag with takeout inside, Inhaling deeply, to smell it in all its unhealthy glory before opening it. A perfect-well, not really, cause of the moving andswinging, it might have gotten a little messed up, but it's still perfectly eat-able! You hope...

You take the burger out, a classic, iconic, simple, and delicious cheeseburger. The type that makes you pause for a second while wondering if you should really put something like this in your body before you say fuck it and eat it anyways. You disable your mask, freeing your face for the first time in a couple of hours

"Karen? Can you play one of the voice messages from the 'favorites' folder? Or a video, whichever works, as long as mister stark is in it..." you take the wrapper off of the cheeseburger and a mechanical voice rings out through the quiet-as quiet a crime ridden city with sirens playing in the background 24/7 like Christmas music in malls during December-can get. Obviously.

"Playing, 'happy birthday kid' sent on ------ at 1:31 A.M"

You let out a huff of amusement, mixed with tiredness, taking a bite of the burger

"Kind of ironic isn't it... almost like a bad joke?" You scoff "...Happy birthday, mister Stark" your voice cracks a little before going going silent at the end, just then, a message that was sent to your suit when you were on patrol starts playing, and another voice starts talking.

"I was planning on telling you later, after school hours, but then i saw someone on youtube livestreaming 'the spider patroling and fighting #onlyinnewyork!' despite there being a weather warning sent out, honestly kid!- when will you start taking care of yourself?!

I have a lot more to say, but I won't, for the sake of my sanity, and for the sake of today. I had Happy make some reservations at a new restaurant that opened near your apartment, so your aunt can also join us. 7 pm, don't be late. Happy birthday, kid. I'll see you later, don't stay out too late and take care-"

The recording is cut off, followed by a sound that sounds like a choked sob, but not quiet there. You try to calm yourself, taking a deep breath in. 'Four seconds in, eight seconds out. Four seconds in-'

You can't afford to panic here. There's so much left to be done... but at the same time, that gaping hole in your chest, in your heart. It hurts more then any wound you've ever had. It leaves you feeling incomplete, you desperately want to fill that space with warmth, comfort, home...

'I can't- I shouldn't...' You can't risk more people getting hurt. Not again. Never again. Your heart wants you to pull yourself together and seek comfort in the arms of someone, anyone... but at the same time your mind is screaming at you to make sure not to let anyone in, to keep everyone, no matter how strong, at arm's length.

"I'm tired mister Stark..." the sky is faintly visible. A rare occasion for Gotham, or so you've heard, you haven't really had the time for stargazing in the recent past. It might just be the loneliness talking, or you may have finally lost your mind and started hallucinating, but the stars seem to twinkle a little brighter then before.

EXCUSE MY AMATEURISH WRITING IT'S MY FIRST TIME DOING THIS 🙏🙏

This thing has been picking away at my mind for I don't know how long and it's killing me inside that there isn't already a fic like this

Imagine spider!reader coming to the DCU after the event of no way home. Like after they defeated everyone? reader asks strange to send them to another world without any spider-people AND making everyone in their og world forget who they are?

They got more trauma (✨️) and don't want to hurt the people around them anymore, so they land in Gotham.

Imagine spider!reader still having their suit along with Karen. Imagine the potential ANGST of spider!reader sitting on a rooftop eating a classic American cheeseburger while asking Karen to play videos of Tony?

Imagine this teenager, who has just kind of given up and only holds back for the sake of not killing people.

Imagine the reaction of the other vigilantes of Gotham when they see this meta(?)human who is going by the name of spider.

Imagine their reaction when it's a homeless teenager orphan 👌

Imagine spider!reader doesn't come with batfam because they don't trust anyone enough to share their identity because of what happened when they trusted Mysterio?

IMAGINE 😭

#batfam x reader #batfam #dc x reader #spider!reader #first time writing 😔#really sorry if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes

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sonicboomrevisited · 1 day ago

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THE WEEKLY CHECK-IN

Issue 2 Updates:

12/22 Pages have been fully inked!

Pages 11-12 are really cool. They also mark the point where I can start to share some WIPS without anything being too spoiler-ish.

Deep behind the scenes, I have been working to reformat the scripts Qwerty and I share. They were a mess before. Now they are neat and tidy!

Working on Page 13 today. It has a troublesome background shot in its first panel. Wish me luck!

Holiday WIPS:

Our holiday short story "I'll Be Home for Christmas" started when I began developing the Team Sonic Christmas Card to celebrate the holidays. I thought it would cute to show Robo-Sonic participating in the holiday activities. As I was drawing, though, a story started developing in my head around the little gift sticker I had put on Robo-Sonic's visor (which you may notice was altered in the final version!) I threw the idea of Eggman "gifting" Robo-Sonic back to the team for the holidays to Qwerty. I usually do a lot of the writing on SBR while Qwerty pitches in for brainstorming and dialogue improvement (you can thank her for Robo-Sonic 2.0's line of dialogue in issue 1!) I was NOT going to have time to write and work on Issue 2, though, so we tag-teamed. I gave her a general idea of what I thought would be cool, we brain-stormed, then she got to work writing while I drew and drew and drew.

I actually got to watch Qwerty write it in real time which was a lot of fun. I remember a long writing pause during the scene where Knuckles asks Amy if she wants him to "deck Eggman's halls". The final version has Knuckles also ask if she wants him to leave a, "knuckle sandwich" in Eggman's stocking. However, for the briefest of moments, Qwerty had put down, "want me to jingle..." before backspacing. I later asked her if she was going to type, "want me to jingle his bells." We both thought better of it...

Issue 2 WIPS

Alright guys, because it's the day after Christmas I've decided I'm going to be SUPER nice and leaf you guys with a really good Issue 2 WIP. I know I just said we're getting into non-spoilerly WIP territory but, like I also said, I'm SUPER nice; viewer discretion is advised.

*wink* *wink*

Alright, alright! I'll see myself out...

#sonic boom revisited #SBR updates #SBR wips #sonic boom #sonic the hedgehog #sth #multi's art #sonic fanart #sonic boom au #robo sonic #sonic #sonic art

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vampireimiko · 3 days ago

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hot chocolate - mini fic

note, couldn't rlly think of who i wanted this to be about so i came up with multiple people, can also be applied to whoever you think of if they fit the shoe ^_^

Finally, it was your favorite time of the year, Christmas. While the weather and temperature may not be ideal, it was nothing that snuggling with hot chocolate by the fire couldn't fix. Not to mention you also had your boyfriend with you.

It was the first Christmas you two spent together in a while due to his missions. You loved how the festive season seemed to bring out a softer side of him. Normally so focused and serious, he was finally able to relax, his sharp edges mellowing into something warmer. Watching him fumble with the lights earlier in the day—grumbling under his breath about how they were always tangled no matter how carefully they were stored—had been a highlight of your holiday so far.

As the two of you sat on the couch, with the fire crackling softly, you two felt relaxed. He was stretched out beside you, an arm lazily draped over your shoulders as the glow of the Christmas tree illuminated the room in soft, colorful light.

“You really went all out with the decorations this year,” he murmured, his voice low and tinged with admiration.

You grinned, turning to face him. "It just felt right, especially with you being here finally. The Christmas spirit always feels better with someone else doesn't it?"

He chuckled, the sound deep and comforting, and tightened his arm around you. “I think you’ve outdone yourself. This feels... perfect.”

He cherished moments like this with you. Being able to hold you in his arms gave him a comfort like no other. His job was grueling, missions so dangerous there were times he thought he'd never see you again. But he prevailed through each mission just for you. You were enough to keep him grounded and not be as careless and impulsive.

You looked up at him, noticing the faraway look in his eyes. It was a rare sight to see him so introspective, and you couldn't help but wonder what was on his mind. Gently, you reached up and caressed his cheek, pulling him back into the present.

"Hey," You said softly. "What's on your mind babe?"

He leaned into your touch, his expression softening as his gaze met yours. “Nothing bad,” he assured you, his voice a quiet rumble. “Just... thinking about how lucky I am to be here with you. I’ve missed this more than I can put into words.”

“You’re here now,” you whispered, brushing your thumb against his cheek and going in for a kiss. “And that’s all that matters.”

After that the moment was quiet, save for the crackling fire and the faint hum of a Christmas tune playing on the radio.

Breaking the silence, you smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “You know, I think I’m the lucky one. Watching you wrestle with those Christmas lights was the best entertainment I’ve had all year.”

He groaned, his head falling back against the couch dramatically. “I’m never living that down, am I?”

“Not a chance,” you teased, poking his side playfully.

He chuckled, catching your hand in his before pulling it to his lips. The playful moment gave way to something more tender as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll take the teasing, as long as it means I get to be here with you.”

"God your so cheesy." You giggled jokingly, trying to hide the fact that he was making you flustered.

"Oh please you love it." He said playfully shooing you away.

You rolled your eyes, leaning back against him with a soft laugh. “Maybe I do. But don’t let it go to your head, Mr. Mission Impossible.”

He laughed at the nickname, his chest rumbling against your back as he tightened his arm around you. “Too late. You’ve already inflated my ego.”

You shook your head, smiling to yourself as the fire crackled softly in the background.

"By the way, are you gonna finish your hot chocolate?" He interrupted.

rick grimes (? in a modern world maybe), dick grayson, jason todd, leon kennedy, chris redfield, carlos oliveira, childe, miguel o'hara, sasuke + whoever else fits this

additional note ! i've been feeling absolutely terrible this holiday season but i felt enough joy to write this 🕵🏾‍♀️ so merry christmas!

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

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zepskies · 2 days ago

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@lamentationsofalonelypotato

Merry Christmas, my friend!! ❤️💚 First of all, I'm so honored that 'Twas the Night gave you some inspiration! 🥹 I'm excited to dive into this special Christmas edition of Take a Chance.

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.

Of course he's having a hard time choosing a proper Christmas gift for her, because when was the last time he gave someone a gift because he genuinely loved them? I feel like Countess wouldn't be a good example lol. So what's going to be a reflection of the relationship he has now? Especially because she's not one for flashiness, or more materialistic gifts.

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

Yup. 😂😂

"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.

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

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

Okay, Ben. You do you. 🤣🤣

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.

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.

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.

You're killin' me, friend!! 😭😭

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.

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

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.

Oh, it's because he actually cares. 💗

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.

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.

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. 💚💚💚

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 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!!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

"You got me a cactus?" Ben snorts.

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

"Why did you give it a sweater?"

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

"From?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I-"

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

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

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

You hesitate to open it.

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

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

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

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

You think to yourself as you open the box.

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

Simple, stately, and completely you.

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

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

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

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

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

"You? But-"

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

"Really?"

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

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

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

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

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

"But-" You stutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don't answer.

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

Your cheeks flush.

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

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

"But you don't like it-"

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

"Really?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ben?" You question.

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

"Merry Christmas Ben."

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

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

Taglist for Take A Chance On Me:

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

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

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

#lovely mutuals #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 #zepskies reads

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yummi3010 · 2 days ago

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Cosmo's "Solo" Run (pt.1)

IT'S HERE ‼️‼️‼️‼️

(FINALLY 😭)

Sryy hehe, I didn't do much effort for the title 😅

This was based on my own experience playing Cosmo for the first time (SOLO) because I didn't read what his ability was 😭

The first part is a bit short because I spent too much time on the background, I'll try to change that :P

Also, every part of the comic I post, I'll show a sneak peek of the script for the next part.

Here's this ones' spoiler:

Auauhghuuhh I rly wanna draw the rest like RN, But we can only wait since this is like a lil hobby now.

And I get tired ;-;

It took so long just to do this, I hope I'll get to finish it before the fandom dies down.

I won't stop even if it does tho 😋 HEHEE

Happy reading, holidays, and new years! Enjoy!

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 2 days ago

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Hello Sleepy, I hope you’re doing well! This isn’t much of an ask but more of a little gift. I am amazed by your work and the creativity behind your characters, along with the storylines! I hope I am not crossing any boundaries when I say I have drawn your OC Jade. The twist? She met my character (which I’m still working on) in a comic I made for you! I have no intentions on changing your characters storyline or taking any credit of Jade; if I crossed a line or did anything wrong I apologize IMMENSELY.

The comic takes place in London outside Jades florist shop. This is when our characters are on the civilian side and off duty. There was an accident outside of the building and after a long terrible month for Soot (my characters nickname until I finish her biography), she happens to witness the accident. She acts on instinct and adrenaline, leaping right into action to help the victim.

As she addresses the man like routine she hears a voice, it’s a woman. Particularly, it’s Jade who had heard the commotion and investigated. I’d like to think with Jades background and her kind heart she doesn’t hesitate to give a helping hand where it’s needed. Until proper Responders arrived on scene, Soot and Jade were able to help save this man’s life.

Now although the very lazy sketch of a comic I scribbled, I did draw a flat colored picture. This takes place after the accident. Soot, with the routine down to a T, takes the ambulance back to the hospital with the man. She doesn’t interfere with the medical professionals, she’s been there done that, Soot just wants to be there for the patient and for the family when they eventually arrive to the hospital. To answer any questions and possibly provide comfort.

Now PLEASE correct me if I am wrong, I took a wild chance at this— Jade also goes to the hospital, but on her own. She wanted the same thing Soot did, to be there for the family and provide any comfort/closure if possible. It’s rare that this occurrence even happened ecspecially with it right outside her Floral Shop.

As Jade waits in the waiting room patiently for what seems like two hours, she is approached out of nowhere by a familiar figure. The woman she voluntarily gave her helping hands too. As observant as Jade is, she recognizes an exhausted look on this lady’s face that was clearly built over the course of years.

“Thank you,” is gently whispered by Soot to Jade, standing quiet and tired in front of her. They don’t know each other, maybe they eventually will or maybe they won’t. But they worked together like they had known one another forever.

First Encounter:

Again, I hope I did not cross any boundaries. I have no intentions on taking, altering or changing your OC and her storyline! All credit goes to you. I also hope I drew Jade correctly, I read her favorite color is lilac so I included that— braids are so hard to draw help :,)

Anyways, Thank you for your amazing content and keep up the hard work! You are extraordinarily talented at what you do, you should be proud🫶

(sorry for any typos)

WAITTT WAIT WAIT

THIS IS SPECTACULAR, GIVE ME 14 OF THEM RIGHT NYEOW!!!

THE COMIC?? THE ART?? HELP?? Jade would totally do this! I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!! You got it perfectly!!

Thank you so much for taking the time to make this art!! 😭This is such an amazing gift!

#screaming rn #AAAAAAA #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty oc #original character #charlotte jade le jardin #oc: soot #comic #gifts from friends

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mihachansstuff · 2 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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ernmark · 1 day ago

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When I was in college, a friend of mine got a job at one of the campus help centers where they're supposed to help students who are struggling get their feet under them.

Based on his training there, he insisted that he wanted to have a similar session with me in order to Fix me.

(This speaks volumes about the help the other students were getting, I think.)

See, the entirety of his assistance was sitting with me and creating a nice, tidy little schedule for my life in fifteen-minute increments, with tidy little spots for daily workouts and weekly meal prep. And he kept getting frustrated with me for not being able to put my activities for the day in any order, or assign them specific periods of time, or being willing to commit to following this militant schedule to the letter.

He wouldn't hear the fact that I'm a writer-- I have no control over when the words come. Sometimes I'll be doing something Very Important and I'll have to put it on hold because if I don't write this line of dialogue down Right This Second it's going to make it impossible for me to focus at all. Sometimes I'll be staring at a blank word document for two hours and get a sentence and a half done. Sometimes it'll be three in the morning and I'll have been writing for five hours straight but I won't be able to sleep until I get it written.

He wouldn't hear the fact that I have debilitating depression, and sometimes it takes hours to gather enough energy just to get dressed.

He wouldn't hear the fact that I don't actually know how long something like cooking is going to take, because every recipe calls for completely different cook and prep time, and I can't predict what's going to be utterly unappetizing until I look in the fridge for that meal.

There was no accommodation for the fact that I have a sleep disorder, which between the depression and the rest, makes it damn well impossible to predict when I'll be able to start sleeping, or when I'd need to wake up in order to be rested.

And that's what it comes down to-- there was absolutely no leniency or accommodation for anything outside of that ultra-disciplined, hyper-regimented approach. There was no allowance made for neurodivergence or disability of any kind. Despite knowing me for years at that point, he couldn't understand why I just didn't Try Harder. Clearly I'd succeed if I just did it his way.

A few things that did actually help me, for the record:

When there's something that I Know is going to occupy the entirety of my brain until I do it, I just freakin' stop whatever else I'm doing and do it. In my case, that's usually writing down whatever bit is in my head, but also it can be getting out of bed to make sure I turned the stove off, or making sure I locked the door, or paying my credit card bills in the middle of the night, or whatever.

A lot of my executive dysfunction is exacerbated by sugar/protein levels, so I keep a supply of protein shakes on-hand. It doesn't necessarily fix my depressive episodes, but it gets me out of those loops where I can't do X until I do Y until I eat and I have to eat first because if I don't eat now then I won't be hungry for dinner and then blah blah blah.

On that note: I can't control when/how I sleep, but I can control how many meals I eat during a day and roughly when they happen. Eating regularly helps to make the rest of my natural rhythms a little more predictable.

I have a short list of foods that my household can reliably eat and try to keep the ingredients for that stocked.

I do actually do a little bit of scheduling-- I set aside a few-hour-block on two days of my week to work out. Not because I Must do it, but so that I'm not preoccupied with the constant background radiation of "I should be working out more". If it's not Monday or Friday, it's not going to happen.

Forgiving myself for not being at peak productivity levels at all times. My boss will get what I have it in me to give them, and not more. My writing might not be at its best all the time, but it's a hell of a lot better than a blank page. Pushing myself past my limits to adhere to an impossible standard only exacerbates all those other problems.

#also ending my association with a friend who refused to take no for an answer and refused to listen to some pretty fundamental realities

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absofckinglutelys · 10 hours ago

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what is grief? ; lighter x gn! reader

author's note: happiest birthday to my baby Lighter! This is a birthday gift from me to you! I am posting just in time before his birthday ends in my timezone, so this fic may have some grammar mistakes and I apologize for that. But my brainrot when I saw Lighter's birthday art has returned and I just had to write a fic in just one sitting inspired by his bday art. This is an interpretation of the art, and I have shaped it to what I thought could be possible.

warnings for subtle hints of Lighter's trust events! sprinkle in survivor's guilt and you have a traumatized man.

this fic is also a continuation of this fic that i have posted before, so i recommend reading it first before reading.

enjoy!

----------

“Researcher!” You full on bodily flinched when that familiar nickname only the people in the Outer Ring called you. You fumbled your notes in your hands as Caesar yelled through the quiet space of your camp. You checked the time on your watch, 11:41 a.m. It wasn't even near the time where you were supposed to be picked up to return back to Blazewood.

You sighed to yourself before turning to look at the approaching figure of the soon-to-be leader of the Sons of Calydon.

“Caesar.” You greeted plainly, still a little spooked by her sudden call. Her grin was wide and bright like the sun in the background, you narrowed your eyes at her, silently staring at her (not so unusual) cheery self.

“You're early.” You stated, watching as she shifted her feet in excitement. “Big Daddy's busy again?”

“He's busy alright.” Caesar says cheerfully, you furrowed your brows at her in confusion.

“Researcher~ Don't you know what day it is?” Caesar's mood slightly dampened at your lack of enthusiasm, you only gave her a deadpan look.

“Care to tell me what's gotten you excited?” You asked as you shuffled your notes to make it more organized.

“Y'know Lighter right?” Caesar asked.

“Of course I know him, Caesar. We've been roommates for a while now.” You sighed.

“Well, since you've been roommates for so long, you should know it's his birthday today.” Caesar huffed, you looked up from your notes in surprise.

“It's December 27th right?” You blinked at her as Caesar sighed. “It is. You two are practically living together, how do you not know this?”

You cleared your throat as heat traveled to your face, you looked away in embarrassment as you mumbled out, “Well, he's not really the most talkative person…”

“To make up for it,” Caesar announced, grabbing you by your arm to drag you to her bike. “You're helping us plan the party!”

—

The Sons of Calydon were good with most things, mainly, getting the job done.

But the one thing they were not good at was subtlety.

Point A being...

“Happy Birthday!” The Sons of Calydon exclaimed as the lights turned on and confetti sprinkled across the room. Standing in the doorway was the man of the hour, with not a single hint of surprise on his face, with Big Daddy chuckling behind him.

The Sons of Calydon surrounded him, mostly complaining of his lack of a reaction (Caesar, Billy and Burnice). You meanwhile sat lazily by the lights since it was your job turning it on when the pair stepped through.

You snickered under your breath, you already told them they weren't being subtle to what they were planning, but they were convinced Lighter would be caught off guard. Guess they were majorly disappointed.

The party dragged on as the Sons of Calydon adorned cheap party hats and convinced Lighter to blow out the candles, you volunteered yourself to take the pictures. Snapping every second to savor the moment.

Everyone settled down to eat, with Burnice handing out the Nitro-Fuel. You have no doubt everyone will be drunk well into the night.

You huffed out a sigh as Billy animatedly talked about one thing or another as you slowly drank from your cup of Nitro-Fuel. Everyone was either becoming drunk or tipsy, someone must've turned up the music to some popular hip song as everyone shouted over the music.

The drink brought the warmth to fight off the chill of the night, so you excused yourself to escape the noise.

You walked out of the building that held the new guy's birthday party. Now that you can actually hear your own thoughts and don't have anyone drunkenly screaming into your ear, You weren't as drunk as you thought you'd be.

So you weren't surprised to see the new guy leaning against his bike, far away from his own party.

You had half the mind to just walk away, leave the guy alone and walk off into the night. Maybe go back to your research and organize.

But you thought back to what Caesar said. You have been living together for a while now, and you haven't had the slightest clue who Lighter actually was. You didn't really try, the guy looked like he wanted to be left alone.

Just as you were about to turn away from his silhouette and back to your research, you hesitated. You turned back to him.

It wasn't fair to assume, friendship was a two way street after all.

You sighed to yourself, before stuffing your hands into your pockets, psyching yourself up to talk to the guy.

“You're not at your party.” You started as the new guy turned to you. You cringed to yourself at the blunt statement, you tried to make up for it as you approached him, “The others really wanted to surprise you with a party.”

You stood a little aways from him, hands still in your pockets as Lighter observed you.

You hummed at the very eyes that were hidden behind shades almost all the time, now looking at you. You have to admit, the guy had pretty eyes.

You cleared your throat as embarrassment ran through you, okay where the hell did that come from?

“Just not in the mood I guess..” Lighter mumbled out as he looked away from you. You stared at him for a few seconds, noting the lack of shades and his hand fidgeting with the chain of dog tags he always carries around with him. You decided to walk slowly before stopping right in front of him.

The two of you shared a moment of silence, while it wasn't uncomfortable, it was unsure. Unsure how to start a conversation, unsure how to breach the subject. Your eyes continued to travel to Lighter and the dog tags clutched in his hands. You weren't stupid, you know what it meant.

Just as you were finding topics to bring up just so you can actually talk to the guy, Lighter beat you to it, “You've… been researching the Hollows for a while now right?” He asked so quietly, you had to strain your ears just to hear him. You looked at him with a question in mind, but decided not to ask it. “I have.” You answered.

“Any progress?” Lighter asked, you have no idea if he was genuinely curious or was asking for the sake of a conversation.

“Not… really…” You sighed to yourself, thinking back to the Old Capital and the lives lost. You closed your eyes to hide the grief and the regret that was surely present.

The silence was deafening between you two, you were already regretting talking to him as it dragged on. You puffed out an exhale, the Outer Ring’s night air was growing colder by the second.

“Have you ever lost anyone, Researcher?” Lighter softly asked. You looked back at him in surprise, not expecting for someone so guarded to ask such a vulnerable question.

But Lighter wasn't even looking at you, instead, his attention was back to his dog tags. Eye lashes kissing his skin as he continued to look down.

You bit your lip, thinking back to the screams of the innocent and the pleas of mercy. You closed your eyes as their scornful faces appeared in your mind.

“I did.” You answered plainly, observing the man who was deep in thought.

Another bout of silence before Lighter finally looked at you, eyes swimming with a question he was desperate to have answered. “Yet you still have that drive in you.”

You blinked at him, now that he wasn't focusing solely on the metal in his hands, you looked at his flushed cheeks and his slurred words. You felt the tension in your muscles relax as you softly looked at him.

“You still have that– determination. To do what you do, how the hell do you do it?” Lighter asked, voice not above a whisper. You haven't seen a man so broken down, and you didn't expect the man to be someone like Lighter. Who stood tall at the face of adversities, someone who faced the world and fought back.

You feel like you were looking into a mirror.

“I lost people.” You admitted, shifting to stand beside him as you looked up at the night sky. The moon was full tonight and the galaxy away from this planet was visible this far deep into the Outer Ring, no light or air pollution to hinder the sight.

“But, lingering on grief won't fix anything.” You felt Lighter's gaze stare intently at you, despite his apparent tipsiness, the guy still has his focus.

“I feel… guilty in a way I can't explain. And I want to fix that, but I've learned that feeling guilty will only hinder me from what's really important.” You continued. You have no idea why you were admitting this to the guy who you haven't even talked to one on one without the Sons of Calydon present. Was it the Nitro-Fuel? The tipsiness? The added frustration and stress? Or is it because Lighter understands?

You let out a quiet chuckle, amused by the absurdity of it all, but Lighter continued to look at you, with a hint of something in his gaze.

“I guess I've learned that, I don't need to just… grieve. I need to live because that's what they would have wanted, for me to live.” You said, emotions swimming in your gaze, but you haven't noticed his stare yet as you looked down.

“I mean, I've lost them, yes. But their loss isn't the end, I will always miss them. I will. But I know that, I can't just stay grieving forever, right?” You rambled, not noticing Lighter leaning further in your space.

You fell silent as you looked at the sand beneath your shoes, parting your lips as a sigh escapes you. But you felt no heavy weight in your chest, only a feeling as light as a feather. Were you so drunk that you rambled to the guy whom you don't know much about?

But you smiled nonetheless, the feeling freeing as a bird fluttered in your chest, you looked back at the night sky with its dark blues and grey clouds.

“So what is grief, if not love preservering?” You looked back at the man beside you, before falling silent at his focused gaze on you. He didn't look tipsy or drunk, he just looked… amazed.

A warmth crawled into your collar as you processed Lighter's gaze on you, you cleared your throat and looked away. Mentally reprimanding yourself from becoming so sidetracked that you rambled to Lighter.

Just as you tried to compose yourself, Lighter silently stared at you with his lips parting in surprise. Lighter thought for a moment, he looked at the dog tags in his hands, running his thumb through the luster before he smiled to himself.

“I guess it is love preserving, huh?” Lighter mumbled as he put the dog tags around his neck, hiding it within the folds of his red scarf and settling it on his chest.

You looked at him in surprise as the man stood to his full height.

You cleared your throat as Lighter turned his attention back to you.

“Are you going back to the party?” You asked, pointing with your eyes as you looked between Lighter and the old diner where the party was being held.

Lighter was silent as he looked between you and the party, with its loud music and probably drunk partygoers.

Lighter hummed as an idea popped in his head, “I was thinking of driving around.”

You tilted your head at him as he looked at you, his eyes were a pretty shade of green with a hint of red. What a unique eye color.

“Do you wanna… join me?” Lighter hesitantly offered, you blinked at him in surprise. This time, you observed the party in the background and then back at the man before you.

Go back to the noisy ass party and it's drunk party goers or take a ride with Lighter?

Well, Caesar did say to get to know the guy better.

But there was one problem, “I don't, uh, exactly have a bike, man.” You said pointedly.

Lighter seemed to pause in thought before he shrugged, “You can ride with me then. If you still want to, of course.”

You looked at the man with surprise as he pulled out his shades from his pocket to put it on. You were going to miss that green.

You silently reprimanded yourself for that line of thought, you weren't that drunk, right? You don't feel drunk or even tipsy, so where the hell did these sudden thoughts come from?

“Well, if you don't mind.” You tried to feign an air of nonchalance, but ultimately failed as the once stoic man in front of you let out a small chuckle, “I'll make sure to take care of you, Researcher.”

#zenless zone zero #lighter lorenz x reader #lighter x reader #zzz lighter #lighter zzz x reader #zenless zone zero x reader #hbd to my baby #his bday art has me in a chokehold

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