#Cat owner Christmas gifts

[samsquirkyspace]

Finding the Purrfect Gift for Cat Lovers This Christmas Holiday Season

The holiday season is upon us, and if you have a cat lover in your life, you might be wondering what to gift them that will warm their hearts as much as cute cats do. Fear not, because we’ve got you covered with a list of adorable cat-themed gifts that are sure to make this a cute Christmas to remember!

Christmas Cat Decorations: What’s cuter than a cat? A cat dressed up for Christmas! Look for ornaments, figurines, or even adorable Christmas stockings featuring cartoon cats. These festive felines will add a whimsical touch to any holiday decor.

Cat-Inspired Jewelry: Surprise your cat-loving friend with a piece of jewelry featuring a tiny cat charm. It’s a subtle yet stylish way for them to show off their love for their furry friends.

Cozy Cat Blankets: Help your loved one stay warm and snug during the holiday season with a soft, cat-themed blanket. Whether it’s covered in cute cats or just shaped like a cat, it’s sure to be a hit.

Cat Books: If they enjoy curling up with a good book and a cup of hot cocoa, consider gifting them a book about cats. Whether it’s heartwarming stories, cat care guides, or beautifully illustrated coffee table books, there’s a cat book for every cat lover.

Cat Pajamas: Everyone loves cozy pajamas for the holidays, and cat-themed ones make them even more adorable. Look for cute cat patterns and ensure they stay warm and fashionable all winter long.

Custom Cat Portraits: Commissioning a custom portrait of their beloved cat is a thoughtful and unique gift idea. They’ll cherish this personal touch and proudly display it in their home.

As you can see, there’s no shortage of cat gifts to choose from to make this Christmas special for the cat lover in your life. These cute cat-themed presents are sure to bring a smile to their face.

Now, for the best part! If you’re ready to explore some adorable cat gifts, be sure to check out my collection of gifts for cat lovers displayed alongside this article. Your Christmas shopping just got a whole lot easier, and you’re bound to find the purrfect gift that will make this holiday season unforgettable for your cat-loving friend. Happy holidays! 🎄🐱

Like, Share, Follow @https://www.zazzle.co.uk/store/christmassygifts?rf=238674874943549094

[petsync]

Cats: the only creature that can ignore you, demand your attention, and knock over your stuff all in the span of five minutes.🥰🥰👈👈

[coquettebeautiful]

25% Off Sale – Now Through Saturday!

Don't miss out on our biggest savings of the season! Enjoy 25% off all items in our Etsy store now through Saturday. Hurry—this deal ends soon! Shop now and save big! 🎉

Gifts for Pets#Pet Owner Gifts#Personalized Pet#Pets Picture Gifts#Hand Pet Painting#Personalized Gifts#Photo Art#Multiple Pet Art#Cat Prints Canvas#Painting Of Cat#Custom Cat Print#Hyper realism Cat#Memorisation Cat,#Custom Pet Portraits Using Pet Photo#Personalized Digital Dog Portraits#Cat Portraits#Custom Dog Portraits#Custom Pet Art Pet Drawing#Personalize Christmas Dog Portrait#Dog & Cat Art#Unique Holiday Gift#Digital Animal Portrait#Perfect for Pet Lovers#Gift For Her#Unique Custom Pixel Art#Pet Portrait#Custom Dog Portrait#Custom Cat Portrait#Digital Pixel Art#Personalized Portrait from Photo#Custom Watercolor Portraits#Using Pet Photo Personalized Digital Dog Portraits#Cat Portraits#Custom Dog Portraits#Custom Pet Memorial Art#Custom Animal Art#Dog Portrait From Photo Oil#Oil Painting From Photo Dog#Dog Picture to Watercolor#Canvas Pet Art#16x20 Watercolor Pet#Custom Pet Portrait 16x20#Canvas Wall Art Dogs#Personalized Painting of Pets#Personalized Dog Portrait Framed#Personalized Digital Pet Portrait#Custom Lady Cat Portrait#Framed Dog Art#Dog Framed Painting#Dog Abstract Painting#Pet Portraits Custom#Golden Retriever Paint#Pet Memorial Portrait 4x6#Hand Painted Pet Painting#Commissioned#Dog Portrait#Custom Gift#Pet Memorial Gift#Dog Memorial Gift#Pet Portrait From Photo#Pet Painters#Pet Photos#Personalized Gifts#Dog Pets#Gift Pets#Personalized Pets#Digital Prints#Mod Paws Us#Modpaws Usa#Customizable Dog Prints#Dog Portrait Custom Painting#Gifts for Pets#Pet Owner Gifts#Personalized Gifts Dog#Dog Prints Canvas#Custom Portrait Dog Photo Art#Personalized Portrait of Dog#Framed Painting of Dog#Personalized Pet#Memorializing Dog#Pets Picture Gifts#Hyperrealism Dog#Dog Oil Painting#Custom Dog Portrait Digital Download#

[customizedstore]

Christmas T-shirt

[yeollie-plz]

Cat and Mouse

A post for @itwasntimethatdidit40 for the Pedrostories Secret Santa event!

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Synopsis: Joel hates you. You hate Joel. But maybe you don't?

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: not really any Ellie, Christmas themes, hatred, mentions of alcohol, miscommunication

All gif credits to owners!

Winter in Jackson was cozy. Fires burned and snow padded the ground. Although, Christmas had lost a bit of it's magic after the outbreak, everyone in Jackson worked hard to still bring a bit of warmth to the holiday season.

There were parties and gift exchanges. Most gifts were handmade but that meant more anyways. This year they decided to have a "Secret Santa" event and you got the worst possible option. Joel Miller.

The man was impossible. Cold, calculated, and didn't really give a damn about anyone but himself. And, maybe, his brother. Besides not knowing what to get him, you never really liked the man to begin with.

And it seemed the sentiment was equal, because anytime you were near him he'd seem to distance himself or brush you off like you didn't exist. That was the beginning of your loathing of Joel Miller. His constant obsession with pretending you weren't standing right there. Like you weren't actively trying to have a conversation with him.

Then there was the looks. The sideways looks he'd give you, then when you'd notice them he'd scoff and look away like he hadn't just been boring holes into the back of your neck.

It was irritating, so after a few months of this cat and mouse you came to the conclusion that you in fact hated Joel Miller.

So, when you drew his name from the raggedy Santa hat Tommy was excitedly holding out to you, you couldn't help but let your face drop. Out of all the people in Jackson, why him?

Tommy seemed to notice the change in your disposition, because his smile faded as well, instead his face turned into question. You wiped the disappointment off of yours and smiled up at him the best you could muster. Trying your best to brush off what you knew would be a never ending string of questions. Tommy would never be able to understand your hatred of his brother and it wasn't worth the pushing that was bound to come.

So instead, you went to Maria, convinced that she would know what to get her brother-in-law for Christmas. But as you asked Maria, she shrugged and said that she didn't know much about him either.

"He's a secretive man." Maria said simply, as she scrubbed the dishes in her sink. You sighed at her response and left soon after.

As you made your way home you contemplated what you would do. After much thought you came down with two options: observe Joel as much as you could in the next week or attempt to talk to him.

The second option obviously wasn't your favorite option and it would be a bit suspicious. Especially because for the better part of the past year, you'd been actively avoiding him as well.

So, observing him it was.

Five days past of watching Joel Miller. You didn't think he had caught on but honestly you didn't care much. You would watch him during dinner or follow him to the bar. You kept a distance and would talk to people to make it seem less obvious.

And even after all that you were still drawing a bit of a blank. That was until tonight.

You were currently standing leaning against the wall of the bar. A glass in one hand as you watched Joel sit at the bar top. He got what he always got and sat there as silent as he always did. The man was almost too routine, too boring.

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your drink. Just as you were bringing the glass back down you noticed Joel was no longer sitting at the bar.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you glanced around a bit trying to see where he ran off too. That's when a gruff voice spoke right into your ear, "You've been following me, darlin'"

You swallowed harshly, it was Joel, standing right behind you, talking right in your ear. Even worse, he had caught onto your stalking. You turned around to face him.

"What?" You did your best to feign ignorance, but you knew you couldn't fool him.

He let out a half scoff and smirked at you. "Don't play dumb. I've noticed your little game. What's got you so interested little mouse?"

Now it was your turn to scoff, "Little mouse? Isn't it the cat that usually chases the mouse not the other way around?"

"Fine, sugar, lets say you're the cat. What's got you so curious?"

"Not you." You say simply and take another sip of your drink, turning back to scan the bar as if you were waiting for someone.

"You're not fooling anyone, you know?" Joel said directly into your ear again and stalked off. Leaving the bar completely and leaving you absolutely dumbfounded.

That was the most words Joel Miller had ever said to you.

The conversation somehow brought to light to what you were going to give Joel for Christmas. Although you still knew little to nothing about the man, you did have a bit of an evil idea for a gift. He was so convinced he was the cat, you were going to give him something that would solidify him as the mouse.

So now you were sat in your living room sewing together some leftover gray yarn into the shape of a mouse. This wasn't the most work you'd put into a gift before but it sure was more than you'd like to put in for Joel. But now you were determined to see the look on his face when he opened it.

Attaching a makeshift key ring to the knit mouse, you smiled at your handiwork. Eat it, Joel Miller, you are the mouse in this game.

When the Christmas party came around, you were getting a bit excited about your gift. You put it into a little box with some crafted paper bow to try and make it look a bit festive and left it on the gift table as discreetly as possible. You figured Joel would know quickly who his Secret Santa was but that didn't mean you still didn't want a bit of an element of surprise.

The party continued for about an hour as the rest of the off duty members of Jackson filtered in. When it seemed as if most had arrived, Tommy called into the crowd, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Maria patted him on the shoulder in thanks and addressed the room.

You watched as Maria gave a bit of a speech about how this past year has been, but you were too distracted by watching for Joel. He had yet to arrive and you really wanted to see the look on his face when he opened his gift.

Just as Maria was finishing her speech and beginning to explain a bit about Secret Santa, Joel slithered into the room. He slipped in so quickly you almost didn't notice. But as he leaned against the wall close to the door, you scanned his appearance.

Normally he wasn't very put together but there was something different about this Joel. His shirt seemed freshly pressed and his hair was styled a bit differently than usual. He almost looked han-

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts? Were you seriously just about to think that? About Joel Miller?

Dragging your eyes back over to Maria, you tried to distract yourself from the weird thoughts you had just had, afraid you might puke if you were to dwell on them too long. Maria finishes speaking quickly and crosses the room to the present table to help hand out the gifts.

Joel was now standing near the table, you weren't sure when he had moved, but you also didn't care. He stood on the other side of the table, eyes following you as you settled into the crowd surrounding it. His hands in his pockets as he looked you up in down.

You gave him a sideways glance, but were drawn out of it by someone calling your name. It was Maria holding out a small burlap sack to you. You took it with a grateful smile and moved back into the crowd a bit. Trying to distance yourself from the people, or Joel, you weren't too sure.

So, in your secluded corner, you untied the twine around the sack and pulled out your gift. It was a piece of whittled wood in the shape off...a cat? It was definitely a cat.

Your eyes snapped up only to be met with Joel's deep brown ones. He held up your knit mouse and shook it a bit, a knowing look donning his face.

You didn't do anything, just stood there in shock. Not only did Joel as have you as his giftee, he had given you almost the same gift. And it was as handmade as yours was.

Dropping the wooden cat back into its bag, you shoved the item into your pocket and made your way through the crowd. The minute you were met with the crisp winter air outside, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

"It's cold out here, sugar." It was Joel, right behind you again. Sneaking up on you again.

"Joel." The words were almost a whisper as they fell from your lips.

The two of you sat in silence for a second. He had saddled up next to you, no words broke the coldness in the air. No one looked at the other. Just the sound of breathing and the whistle in the wind.

Until he let out a sigh, "You really do hate me huh?"

"What?" You weren't sure what you were expecting him to say, it just wasn't that. Yes, you hated him but you never thought you'd have to explain that to someone. Especially not him. Especially when you thought it was a mutual feeling.

"You hate me, don't you?" He said matter-of-factly, like he already knew your answer.

"I-" You stumbled over your words.

"It's alright, I already figured as much." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, Merry Christmas."

And with that he left you alone, standing there confused.

The next week, Joel was almost nowhere to be found. He barely came to eat and never came out to the bar anymore. You weren't missing him but you sure were noticing.

Half of you was nervous it had something to do with you. You never meant to hurt his feelings. No matter how much you didn't care for the man, you still didn't want him to feel hurt.

So, at the end of the week, you decided to be the bigger person and go to his house. You were both adults after all. Not everyone liked everyone and he would just have to get over that.

With a deep breath that led to a sigh, you knocked at Joel's door. And as you sat there in the cold, you almost wished he didn't answer it.

But as the door crept open and Joel came into to view, your confidence faltered a bit. His brows furrowed when he caught sight of you, obviously confused on why you were here.

You didn't give him a chance to ask and began to go through your practiced speech instead. "We are both adults. We didn't talk much before this, obviously didn't like each other but after you asked and didn't even let me answer, you've been absent. It's not like you avoiding me is anything different than before, it's just more intense this time. We are grown, we can accept the fact that we hate each other, without avoiding each other like we are some stupid high schoolers."

He gave you a minute to make sure you were done. You caught your breath, obviously saying all of that in one go. And as you gave him a look as if to finally say something, that's when he took the hint and did.

"I don't hate you."

That is not what you thought you'd hear after all that. You thought maybe he'd yell back, start some sort of argument. Or maybe even call you an idiot and slam the door in your face. But that? That was unexpected.

As if your shock was obvious, he repeated himself, "I don't hate you." This time the tone was even more serious than prior.

"What?"

He laughs this time, knowing he has to repeat himself once again.

"I don't hate you, sugar, quite the opposite actually. And I haven't been avoiding you, Tommy asked me to cover some of his shifts so I've just had a bit of a different schedule than usual."

"You-you what? Your schedule?"

He laughed at your reaction, "Yes, my schedule. Although it is very endearing you thought it had something to do with you. Trust me, darlin', if I could see that pretty face every second of the day, I would."

Now if you weren't shocked before, this would've been the frosting on the cake. You were now in a state of shock you hadn't been in since the beginning of the outbreak. Not only did Joel Miller, the center of your hatred for the better part of a year, just admitted you were alone in that hatred. But he also said you were pretty in the same sentiment.

He seemed to sense your lack of being able to form words, so he continued.

"I've never hated you. I just never knew how to handle my emotions. Didn't know how to do that even before the world went to shit, let alone now when no one can trust anyone. I never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable so I avoided you and trust me it was hard because sometimes I just to tell you everything."

"You-you never hated me. You never wanted to avoid me. I've hated you on my own? I spent all this time hating you over a miscommunication?"

"And you were standing there telling me not to act like a high schooler."

You gave him a warning look to which he held up his arms in surrender.

"I'm just saying, you could've came storming up to my door sooner and I wouldn't have complained. Although, I'm not sure I would've had the confidence to say all of what I just said." He looked down at his feet. You had never seen Joel Miller nervous before.

"So what you're saying is I should probably stop hating you and maybe have a conversation or two?"

"Something like that. It is Christmas time after all. Isn't that perfect time for new friends?"

"I guess it is. Alright Joel Miller, you get a second chance, don't waste it."

"I won't." His words were almost a whisper as if he didn't believe you agreed so easily.

You turned and walked down the steps that led to his front door. He watched you intently as you did.

But just as you crossed the icy path of his front lawn, you turned back around to look at him. Only half surprised to see him still standing there.

"You know?" You called out to him. "Maybe you were the cat all along."

A/N: And there she is! Another @pedrostories Secret Santa down in the books! So grateful to them for doing this once again this year! I haven't been writing this past year as much as I'd like to be but this gave me the inspo I needed to get myself motivated!

To my giftee, V, I hope you have an amazing holiday season and Christmas. I hope you enjoy this story! Thank you!

[parmahamlarrie]

Today's theme is Christmas Fics! If you would like a specific theme or trope, let me know! As always, these are all fics I have read and loved, not all the fics out there. You can find more Christmas fics here!

A Very Darling Christmas || @aquamarinedaffodil || 133k Christmas, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Pining, Baker Harry, Drama Teacher Louis, Wonderful Side Characters, Tons of Love Actually Quotes

In A Twinkling || @jacaranda-bloom || 89.2k Christmas Fic, Famous/Non-Famous, Self-Growth

All Your Mates Are Here || @londonfoginacup || 36.1k Werewolf AU, Pack Dynamics, Christmas, College AU

I Just Want You to Stay || @sadaveniren || 34.9k Omegaverse, Christmas Fic, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Kidnapping (but not really scary)

You Should Be Here With Me || @lululawrence || 34.4k Footballer Louis, Social Media Manager Harry, Friends to Lovers, Mpreg, Advent Fic

I Really Like Your Styles: The Baking Advent-ure || @homosociallyyours || 34.3k  Christmas, Baking, Tiktoker Harry, Baker Harry, Coffee Shop AU, Small Business Owner Louis, Strangers to Friends to Lovers

Heart Beat || @allwaswell16 || 33.4k Christmas, Single Parent Louis, Kid Fic, Music Teacher Harry, RomCom Feels, Small Town

Give A Little Sing To The Singles || @londonfoginacup || 31.7k Christmas, Office AU, Coworkers AU, Pining, Fluff and Crack

Frankincense-ational || @londonfoginacup || 31.5k Christmas, Librarian Harry, Firefighter Louis, Fluff and Humor

Santa Baby Honey || @sadaveniren || 28.7k Crack Fic, Christmas Fic, BDSM, Sugar Daddy Louis, CEO Louis

An Alpha For Christmas || IceQueenRia || 28.1k Christmas, Omegaverse, Fake Relationship, Neighbour AU

Lonely Cards Club || @hellolovers13 || 25.8k Christmas, Second Chances, Wales, Teacher Harry

Every Snowflake Is Different (Just Like You) || @hellolovers13 || 20k Snowed In, Meet Cute, One-Night Stands, Genderfluid Harry, Christmas

‘tis the damn season || @louandhazaf || 17.9k Girl Direction, Christmas, Long Distance, Coming Home

stay another day or two || trackfive || 17.6k Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Fic, Christmas

Single Bells Ring || @absoloutenonsense || 16.7k Omegaverse, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Alpha Harry, Alpha Louis, Speed Dating, Christmas

You’ll Be Home For Christmas || @2tiedships2 || 15.2k Omegaverse, Christmas Fic, Heat/Rut, Friends to lovers, Fluff

nothing lasts forever (nothing stays the same) || @beckydoesthings || 14.8k Kidfic, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Mild Angst

A Fateful Snow || @parmahamlarrie || 13k Omegaverse, Christmas, Christmas Tree Farm, Small Business Owners, Fluff

and marshmallows || @briannamarguerite || 10.7k Strangers to Lovers, Professor Harry, Mentions to History, Christmas

Like a Picture Print by Currier & Ives || armadillosunset || 10k Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Knitting

Not Another Lonely Christmas || @haztobegood || 8.7k Christmas, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Fake Relationship

The leaves are buried under six inches of white || loha28 || 8.7k Married Harry and Louis, Chef Harry, Christmas, KidFic

Snow Squalls & Kitty Paws || @littleroverlouis || 8.6k Christmas Fluff, Bookstore, Cats, Blizzard

You’re Invited || @becomeawendybird || 8.5k Christmas Party, Girl Direction, Meet-Cute, Dating Apps

A Christmas Kiss || @parmahamlarrie || 8.3k Christmas, Kid Fic, Fluff

Here We Come A-Wassailing || @lululawrence || 8.2k  Childhood Friends to Lovers, Christmas Fic, Fluff, Pining

Rated R || @cherrystreet || 7.6k Christmas, Established Relationship, Sex Tape, Humor

kisses like snowflakes || @stylesthebrave || 7.5k 90's AU, Christmas/Winter Fic, Fluff

Ruined Plans || stylinsonslytherin || 7.1k SickFic, Christmas, Birthdays

candy in your mouth (I know you love me) || @crossnecklace || 6.9k Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Porn with Feelings/Plot

knowing you're in love with me is the greatest gift of all || @greeneyesfriedrice || 6.7k Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, KidFic

Pour out the wine let’s toast and pray for December snow || armadillosunset || 6.5k  Christmas, Minor Injuries, Neighbor AU

Missing You || @canonlarry || 6k Canon, Future Fic, Kidfic, Christmas, Humor

A Boyfriend for Christmas || chelseafrew || 5.5k Christmas, Fake Relationship, Gemma’s Brother Trope

Holiday Greetings & Gay Happy Meetings || @beanno28 || 5.1k Established Relationship, Christmas Fic, Smuff & Fluff

When You Really Love Christmas || @jaerie || 4.9k Christmas, Hospitals, Nurse Louis, Humor

A Very Louis Christmas - Basic Beautiful Chaos || @silverstuff50 || 4.8k Christmas Party, D/S, Established Relationship, OT5 Chaos

Even Christmas Can’t Compete with Your Glow || @becomeawendybird || 4.5k Werewolves, Christmas Fic

Slip into Your Arms || ohpleaselarry || 4.4k  Christmas, Meet Cute, Doctor Harry

Christmas Pretenders || @larryatendoftheday || 4.1k Fake Relationship, Baker Harry, Christmas Fluff

A Christmas at Home || @parmahamlarrie || 3k Kidfic, Established Relationship, Christmas, Fluff

All The Way Home I’ll Be Warm || @justanothershadeofblue || 2.9k Friends to Lovers, Holiday Cards, Fluff and Humor

Change of Plans || @haztobegood || 2.8k Omegaverse, Non Traditional Omegaverse, Omega Harry, Beta Louis, Christmas, Asexual Harry, Queer Platonic Relationship

'Tis the Damn Season || @zanniscaramouche || 2.8k  Christmas, Angst, Exes with Benefits

Advent Drabbles || @berzerkshires || 2.5k Canon, Christmas, Fun/Fluff/Humor/Mild Smut

A XXX-Mas Miracle || @fallinglikethis || 2k Christmas, Camboy Louis, Masturbation

You’re Family || @neondiamond || 2k Ace Louis, Established Relationship, Christmas

An Annual Affair || @neondiamond || 1.6k OT5 Friendship, Omegaverse, Mpreg, Christmas Fluff

While the Moon is Bright || @tommokat || 1.2k Girl Direction, Christmas, Speed Dating

**This post will be updated as I have more fics in this theme to recommend!** You can find more recs in the directory of fic recs on my blog!

[flos-obsessivus]

What would the guys get their darling for the holidays?

Truth be told, everyone of them would give you anything you'd ask. All of them are royalty so they definitely have the funds to give you anything, no matter how expensive it is.

If we're talking about personal gifts, I would say Lilian would give you anything embroidered by him, or perhaps even a whole outfit, or maybe it would he himself tied up on your bed.

Maleficus would give you jewelry, specifically rings, bespoke rings that is similar to the ones on his horns, made specifically for faes but now given to you as a gift of his love.

If Ivory has already given his heart to you, then it would be the heads of people who wronged you, think cats that bring dead mice to their owner. Also, he would most definitely do those boudoir photoshoot if he was able to, each picture having less and less clothes ;)

As cold as Severin can be, he understands that Christmas is the season for giving, and so he would give everything that you said that you liked, even when it was just in passing. You like that coat? Expect one of each colour. You have a specific bakery you go to that makes your favourites? See that baker become one of the royal staff next time. Anything that you say, you'll have. It's a way for him to show his love since he's not the type to physically nor verbally show it.

[mangoshorthand]

A Hargreeves Christmas Carol | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader | Ch2

SUMMARY: Luther is the sort of idiot who goes around with a 'Merry Christmas' and a goofy smile on his lips. In your opinion, he should be roasted with his own turkey and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. Who better to teach you the error of your ways than Luther's brother, the man who holds the power of Christmases Past, Present, and Yet to Come in the palm of his hand? Info/Announcement Post << Read Chapter One

Chapter Two (Rated T, 4.7k words)

The First of the Three Spirits

You blinked, eyes protesting in sudden, bright daylight. 

“Where are we?” came Five’s voice, still holding tight to your elbow.

“How the hell am I -?”

But you broke off. You knew this place.

“It’s your past,” Five said. 

And then, proudly, as if he couldn’t help himself, he elaborated:

“This briefcase is a prototype I made. It just needs DNA, and it can take you back along that person’s individual’s timeline. All I needed was a hair from the brush in your room, and here we are.”

You weren’t fully listening. Instead, you were looking around at your surroundings, staggered by what you were seeing. 

You and Five were standing on a suburban street; a sprawl that would be featureless to all but those to whom it was familiar. The snow, in gentle flurries, was just starting to overcome the grit on the road, and shoveled driveways too were being dusted with fresh power. 

“I lived here.” you said, softly.

You gazed at the small house across the street from where you stood, at the azalea bush whose flowers used to brush the living room window in spring. So many memories rushed back, half forgotten and shadowy in quality; like dreams you couldn’t be sure really happened.

It made you feel strange. 

“I was little,” you murmured.

Your voice was soft, and it wavered as you spoke. Five looked at you curiously, at your trembling lip and the small tear on your face.

“Are you okay?” he asked, more gently than he’d yet spoken. 

You swallowed.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“I didn’t.” Five said, “Emotional stuff gets into your DNA too. I just programmed it to take me to your earliest salient christmas. And here we are.”

He continued to look at you appraisingly. 

“I don’t want to do this,” you said. 

There was no anger in your voice, none of the rudeness or indignance from before, only vulnerability. 

He knew you well enough for this to strike him as unusual. You were a tour de force: a hard-nosed bar owner, a woman he’d watched ordering drunk and disorderly patrons out of her establishment without turning a hair. It would be fair to say he admired you. You were striking: hair shining in the low light, the unadorned, efficient way you pulled a pint or shook a cocktail. The bar was your stage, and your presence there was magnetic. 

For a moment, he felt guilty about the part he was playing, about the hornet’s nest in your life that he might, even now, be kicking. He didn’t know quite why he did it, but something about the tear falling down your cheek made him release your elbow and hold out his hand instead.

You took it, and led him towards the house.

“You can go in,” he said, when you hesitated a little out of view of the front windows, “they can’t see us. This is a read only visit.”

“What?”

“It means we can’t affect anything,” he explained, patiently, “It’s as if we’re watching a movie of what happened.”

He eyed you then, at the thin sweater you were wearing, and felt another small pang of guilt that he hadn’t let you get a coat. 

“I don’t want to go inside,” you said, quietly, and led him to the front window. Together, beside the bloomless azalea bush, you pressed your faces against the glass.

Inside was a christmas tree, at the foot of which a small girl sat, surrounded by gifts, discarded wrapping paper and new toys. There was a set of crayons and a coloring book, a small lego set, and a stuffed calico cat with a bright pink bow around its neck.

She was alone in the room and, what was even more unusual, she was not opening any of the other gifts around her and was instead staring at her own legs in footsie pajamas. 

The reason why was clear. From within the house, a raging argument was clearly audible, even though layers of walls and glass must separate you from them.

“What world do you live in?” came a woman’s shriek.

“A world where me placing one little bet isn’t going to break the fucking bank, Ellen!”

“Fuck you! Two hundred dollars is not a little bet! I earn twice your wage, what makes you think you can -?”

“Oh HERE we go,” the man shouted, “you never let me forget that, do you?”

“Not when you’re wasting the money that I earned!”

“What about when you earned less than I did? Back then there was plenty of money for you to spend on fucking David!”

“Go fuck yourself!”

There was a loud crash and a cry from your fighting parents that made your younger self jump and start to cry.

Maybe I wouldn’t have been fucking David if you hadn’t been neglecting me!” came a shrill, scream, “You’ve never cared whether I’m happy!”

“GET OFF ME, YOU CRAZY FUCKING BITCH!”

As you looked at your younger self, you cried along with her, all the memories coming back in that moment: hurled insults, smashed plates and drunken tussles. 

Five’s hand came to the small of your back.

“Hey, look,” he said.

A car was pulling up on the drive. You turned your tear-streaked face towards it, and it made your heart skip a beat.

Everything about the car and its driver fell hard on your heart: the sickly beige of her Dodge Caravan, the squeak of the parking brake as it engaged, her perm, the swing of her leather purse as she carried over her arm with a sack of gifts clutched to her side; all of it just made the tears come faster. 

“It’s my grandma,” you wept, and Five’s hand rose to your shoulders, rubbing tentatively between your shoulder blades as your grandmother juggled with her stuff and knocked on the door. 

In the living room, little you sprang to her feet, ran to the hallway and opened the door, falling against your grandmother’s legs to cry against her. The young you cried with relief that she could run into her grandmother’s arms, while the adult you cried in grief that she could never do so again. 

“What’s all this?” your Grandma said, scooping you up and holding you to her chest, “What’s wrong?”

But the young you was too overwhelmed to respond, and the voices echoing from within the house quickly helped grandma to put two and two together.

“Fighting again?” she said, grimly, holding open the front door with one leg, “Merry goddamn christmas.”

She joggled you onto one hip and shouldered her way into the house.

When the door clicked closed behind you, muffling your parents’ screaming, you were left sniffling beside the azalea. 

“She got full custody of me eventually,” you said, “Dad left, Mom moved back in with her, and then Mom married a new guy, moved to Illinois, and left me with her.”

“Ouch,” Five said, wincing, “so no Parent of the Year awards here?”

“Grandma was parent of the century.”

Five nodded. His arm hadn’t moved from around your shoulders. 

“I bet you had a lot of happy christmases with her at least?” he said. 

“I guess so,” you said, quietly, “but she wasn’t big on celebrating.”

You stood there, shivering, watching your younger self curled up on the couch while shadows moved in the kitchen behind you, as your Grandmother tried to lay down the law with her daughter and son in law before giving in and taking you back to her apartment.

There, you’d be in peace, away from the gifts, the twinkling lights and all the yelling, watching the snow fall down onto the city street outside the window, and drinking hot chocolate in her undecorated but undeniably peaceful apartment. 

Five, watching you, briefly set down his briefcase, removed his coat and placed it around your shoulders. 

“She died when I was twenty-one,” you said, quietly, drawing Five’s coat more closely around you.

“I remember you saying once that she left you the bar?”

“Yeah. And the apartment above. Mom tried to contest the will, but Grandma left it watertight. She always fought for me.”

You chuckled reminiscently.

“She left Mom one dollar and an ugly ceramic beagle.”

Five gave a half smile. 

“She sounds like an impressive woman. Formidable.”

“She was,” you sniffed, wiping your face with your hands. 

“Like you.”

You looked at him and returned his smile, tears dried now. 

“Let’s see another Christmas,” he said, taking your hand gently.

Again, you vanished with a fizz into the ether, and the world materialized around you as your body buzzed with electricity. 

It was a Starbucks filled with people, and festooned for the holidays, a jazzy version of Sleigh Ride pumped through the speakers. It was stiflingly hot, so you pulled off Five’s coat and folded it over your arm. The patrons jostled one another as they joined the line, staked out tables, or took their takeout, walking through you and Five as if you were nothing more than ghosts. 

And there you were, at twenty-three, sitting at a table in a low armchair, the seat of which sloped at such a high angle that your body was sunk back into it. You looked older than your age, tired and drawn: this impression would only increase over the years as the day to day stresses got to you. 

“Oh no!” you groaned, turning back to Five and deliberately blocking his view, “Not this.”

“What’s going to happen?” Five asked, craning around you curiously. 

Something about your tone had piqued his interest. It wasn’t a tone of distress, but embarrassment. His consciousness of this, as evidenced by a small smirk playing around his lips, made you scowl.

“I’m about to get dumped.”

Five quirked a brow.

“Well this I have to see.”

And he disappeared, leaving that little electrical frisson on your skin as he dematerialized, and then rematerialized immediately behind you.

“You’re such an asshole!” you said, following him as he approached the table.

Across from you sat Nick, your ex, running his fingers through his straw colored hair.

“He’s drinking a latte,” Five said, as if it was a crime. 

“- Is this about Brisbane again?” you were saying, with a roll of your eyes, “Do you expect me to close up for two weeks during the holidays? It’s the busiest time of year. If I acted like you wanted, I’d barely break even. Right now, I’m actually making real money.”

“You remember in college we used to talk about traveling after we graduated? We even talked about volunteering to teach in Ghana. We used to actually talk and laugh, but now you just snap at me. All you do is count your profits and push me away.”

You disclaimed this with a little shake of the head.

“I don’t push you away, I -”

“But you do.” he interrupted, “ever since you took over the bar. You’ve changed so much. I feel like I barely know you.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Nick,” you said, sarcastically, “excuse me for not having the time to fantasize about vacations when I have my grandmother’s business to run.”

“Do you think she would have wanted this?”

“Yes!” you cried, “She put her whole life into that bar!”

Nick gave a small, defeated sigh and took another sip of his latte. When he looked up again, he asked:

“Tell me something. If you met me now, would you want to be with me?”

You watched your younger self struggle to reply, the justice of what he was saying dawning in her eyes. You remembered the feeling well. 

When you opened your mouth to answer and nothing came out, Nick put his mug carefully down on the table.

“I didn’t think so.”

His voice faltered as he spoke, and you sat in silence for a few moments while Nick recovered himself. 

“I think that clears things up.” he said, simply.

“Nick…”

“No,” he said, his grey eyes serious, “I’m sorry, but it’s over.”

And he stood up from the table, leaving the last third of his latte. 

“Nick.” you said, again, starting to cry. 

“I think it’s been over a long time. I just didn’t see it.”

You tried to stand up to follow him as he moved towards the door, but the ridiculous armchair made you scramble to find your feet, and when you did, you fell back into it.

Five stifled a snort beside you, so you kicked him in the shin, slightly harder than could have been called gentle. 

“Ow!”

I hope you get everything you want,” Nick said, sincerely, “I really hope you find happiness.”

He hesitated a moment, looking awkward.

“So…goodbye then.”

And then he was fighting his way through all the people towards the door, leaving you staring after him with tears brimming in your younger self’s eyes. 

You watched you pained expression, and then turned to Five.

“I want to go home,” you said, to Five, “you’ve tortured me enough. What good does this do?”

Five was looking at the point where Nick had vanished into the crowd.

“I didn’t like him,” he said, bluntly, “You’re better off in my opinion. A Starbucks latte? No, you need a real man. I wouldn’t drink that shit if -”

But then he cut himself off, his eyes caught by something.

“Shit,” he said, distractedly, “that’s Luther.”

You looked up and followed his gaze. There, indeed was Luther, standing in line for the counter, looking unlike you’d ever seen him before: he looked young, comparatively baby-faced, and, though still tall, his proportions looked completely normal. 

Five glanced down at a display near the briefcase’s handle.

“It’s before he went to the moon,” he murmured. And then, in a more normal tone, “I didn’t know you knew him this far back.”

“I didn’t,” you said, dumbfounded.

“I didn’t know Dad let him leave the Academy,” Five said, almost to himself. 

Leaving your younger self to cry in her armchair, you and Five approached his brother. 

“Hey there,” he said, with his usual, grin, “I’ll just take this smoothie to go, thanks.”

And then something caught Luther’s attention. Perhaps he caught a glance of something out of the corner of his eye, because he turned to stare directly at you and Five. 

“Oh fu-” Five began, but petered out as it became clear that he wasn’t actually staring at you, but rather through you.

No, he wasn’t looking at you and Five, he was looking at the younger you, and his face had fallen into lines of empathy. 

“If I buy something for that lady, will you take it to her after I’m gone?”

Your breath caught in your throat. 

“Sure,” answered the barista, glancing at you, crying at your table, and immediately understanding Luther’s kind intentions. 

He furrowed his brow as he read the menu.

“I think she needs something chocolatey,” he said, “how about…a venti gingerbread hot chocolate with cream and those gold sprinkles?”

You watched Luther’s honest, earnest face as he paid, took his little bottle of smoothie, and left, humming a little snatch of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen as he went.

“That was him?” you said, watching Luther’s retreating figure with a dumbfounded expression on your face,  “I remember that. I thought one of the baristas took pity on me. It made me feel…”

Your own words to Luther echoed back in your mind:

“Why not keep all your Christmas shit to yourself and mind your own goddamn business?”

And then his reply, so like Nick’s:

“Why are you pushing me away?”

And your face flushed with shame.

“I was so mean to him,” you said, ruefully.

“Well,” Five said, with the reasonable air of someone chairing a debate, “it can be hard not to be mean to him. He asks for it.”

This didn’t make you feel any better, but Five continued.

“He didn’t always have it easy, but he always had this… uncrushable spirit beneath the surface. He’s always been a teddy bear, no matter how much Dad taught him to suppress it.”

Five gave a reluctant, half mocking chuckle.

“If you ask me,” he continued, “I think he’s trying to make up for lost time: our Christmases sucked.”

There was another moment of silence in which you looked down at the briefcase. 

“Can you show me?” you asked. 

“Huh?”

“Show me what it was like for you and Luther as kids. 

“We’re here to sort out your shit,” he said reprovingly, his thick eyebrows lowered.

“You think you can stop me from causing nuclear armageddon if you show me the past, right?”  

“We’re here to get to the root of your christmas hate-boner so you don’t cause such a mess, yeah.”

“Then show me Luther’s past. Show me why it’s so important to him.”

Five considered you, a vertical line between his brows and the corners of his mouth turned down. After a moment, he spoke, sounding impressed with the idea:

“I guess we could try it. And I know just the one.” 

He moved closer to the table and armchairs to give himself space, knelt and placed the briefcase on the floor beside him. He reached into an inner pocket of his blazer and withdrew a pair of tweezers and a small vial sealed with a cork. 

Carefully, he bent over the briefcase and removed the strand of your hair from one of its mechanisms with the tweezers, and deposited it into the vial.

“That’s creepy as shit,” you remarked, “Do you regularly steal DNA from women’s bedrooms to keep in little jars?”

Five rolled his eyes as he stowed the vial away again.

“Trust me, if I wanted to be creepy, your mess of a bedroom gave me ample opportunity. Do you even own a laundry hamper? If I had a thing for worn panties, that room would be nirvana.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as Five used the tweezers to pluck a single dark hair from his own head. 

“That ought to do it.”

With a steady, precise hand, he slid his own hair into the briefcase’s mechanism. When he clicked it closed, the entire panel hummed, lit briefly with a faint blue glow. 

“Perfect,” he said to himself, and drummed his fingers briefly on the briefcase as he thought.

“Christmas of ‘95? Yeah, six seems about right.”

He fiddled with the dials briefly.

Five rose to his feet again and held out his arm, which you took readily. 

“Here we go,” he said, and clicked something on the briefcase. 

And there was the roiling static, your skin alive with tingles, and you arrived, swaying, into a scene unlike any you’d seen so far. 

The room was white walled, the floor of that squeaky wooden variety you get in a school gymnasium. Padded mats were stacked neatly against the wall at one end, and mirrors lined one of the walls.

Four small children stood in front of the mirror, watching two more facing each other in the on a large mat in the center of the room. One of these was blonde and tall for his age, the other slight and dark.

“Where are we? Wait, is that you and -?”

“Number One and Number Five,” came a crisp voice from the other end of the room, “I have chosen to pair you today because your respective power offers the other a unique and complementary challenge.”

It was Reginald Hargreeves, standing tall and imposing in a pinstriped suit, trademark monocle firmly in place. Beside him, another child stood, hiding behind bangs with a clipboard at the ready, presumably to take notes.  

“Wait,” you asked, “isn’t this supposed to be Christmas?”

“It’s Christmas Eve,” the grown Five beside you confirmed, grimly. “Didn’t mean shit when it came to our training.”

As he spoke, Hargreeves continued.

“Number One, you have size and strength on your side, but you are uncontrolled; clumsy. Number Five, while you may be agile and precise, you are small and weak.”

The young Five in the center of the room’s jaw set. It was simultaneously a sad expression to see on the face of such a young child, and a pleasant little hint of the man he would grow into.

“You were adorable,” you said, before you could stop yourself. Then, you hurriedly added, “all of you, I mean.”

Five only smiled in a way that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was looking at the two boys in front of him, and it seemed as if he was already regretting his decision to show you this.

“The object of this fight is to overpower the other by any means necessary,” Hargreeves continued.

“Jesus,” you murmured, and Five shrugged beside you. 

“Prepare yourselves.” 

The two children shifted, and squared their small frames, bare feet planting against the mats. 

“Three,” Hargreeves voice rang out, “Two…One. Begin!”

Young Five and Luther sprung into action, Five vanishing before the latter could even make his first move. On instinct, Luther ducked immediately, avoiding Five’s tiny fist as it punched the air where the back of his brother’s head was, just a moment earlier.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, half in shock, half in horror.

The two children moved like professionals: like lightning, almost. It was hard to keep track of whose body was where: one minute Five was spinning away from Luther’s perfectly executed knifehand strike, and the next Luther was leaping over Five’s leg, extended in a high kick.

When the first hit came, you gasped and clapped a hand over your mouth.

The heel of Five’s hand slammed up and into Luther’s face, causing him to cry out and stagger backwards, his hands clasped over one eye. 

“Oww!” he whimpered, body wracked with sobs, “Ow, Dad!”

As Luther wept, the young Five hesitated, his hard, determined expression betraying a little remorse. Though he remained on the balls of his feet, prepared for another attack, he glanced guiltily at his father. 

“Press your advantage, Number Five,” Reginald said, a hint of pride in his voice, “and Number One, pull yourself together. Take a demerit for tears.”

At their father’s words, both Five and Luther leapt back into action, Luther’s expression contorted into pure, emotion driven frenzy, lashing out in pain more than he was sparring. 

You took an instinctive half a step forward, hand extended towards them.

“You can’t help,” Five reminded you, his voice carefully nonchalant, “they’re just shadows of what happened.”

Luther became wild and less disciplined in his movements, and though Five blinked around so fast that he was barely visible, the forceful strikes he landed affected Luther no more than a foam bat might have done. 

Then, Luther landed a hit of his own, a blow to Five’s stomach that made him double over at the waist with a hiss as all the air was punched out of his lungs.

“Excellent, Number One.” Hargreeves said, motioning to the child beside him to take a note.

But Luther wasn’t listening. Breathing through his teeth as snot ran from his nose, he pulled back his fist once more and struck Five squarely on the chin with a devastating uppercut that sent him off his feet and flying across the room, struck with the full force of the young Luther’s power.

His head hit the far wall with a sickly crack, and he fell like a ragdoll onto the pile of stacked mats. 

A great gasp went up around the room, yours included. You dropped Five’s coat and, unthinking, ran over to the injured child and dropped to your knees beside him, reaching out a hand. But, of course, your fingers passed straight through his face. 

His eyes were open, but far from alert. One of them, filled with blood from burst blood vessels, was looking inwards towards his nose, while the other looked straight ahead, unfocused. His mouth dripped with blood from a badly bitten tongue. 

You looked from him to the older Five, who simply shrugged as if to say: ‘what are you gonna do?’

“What happened?” you asked, turning desperately to Five, though the words kept coming before he could answer, “Oh my God, I didn’t know what he made you... it’s horrible!”

“It’s not how I’d raise kids,” Five said, with an air of forced casualness.

As Hargreeves lectured Luther for being undisciplined and told him that his fun and games privileges tomorrow were revoked, Five approached your end of the room. 

He picked up his coat with the hand not holding the briefcase and folded it over his own arm. 

“You want to see what happened?” 

You nodded, and Five began to fiddle with the briefcase once more. It took no more than a grasp of his hand and the final click of a button before you were in a bright, cozy sitting room.

“This is Christmas day,” Five said, “I was the only one who got the day off training - I still couldn’t see right -  but the others except Luther got to watch the movie with me.”

Though a fire was crackling in the grate, there were no decorations, you noticed. 

Little Five was sitting propped up in an armchair, his face bruised, one eye still red and a bandage wrapped around his head. All the other children save Luther were seated on a couch.

One of the boys was wriggling, much to the annoyance of his brother.

“Klaus,” he said, indignantly, “stop kicking me!”

“Stop kicking me,”  Klaus imitated.

Then, one of the girls piped up from the floor.

“Can you two be quiet? I want to watch Rudolph!”

The two boys fell into scowling silence, and all eyes turned to the stop-motion animation on the TV, where Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer was guiding Santa’s sleigh across the sky. 

Little Five looked from the TV to the sibling beside him.

“Hey, Ben,” came Five’s whisper, leaning towards him with difficulty. 

“What?” 

“I got presents from Santa last night.”

“No you didn’t,” Ben said, dismissively.

“Yes I did,” Five countered, “I got a black power ranger and three of the candies Dad gives us on our birthday, and a bookmark and two moon rocks. And it was all in a sock hanging on my bed, just like in the movie.”

“You’re lying,” Ben replied, “Santa’s not real. Dad says it’s just a lie they tell normal children.”

“Oh yeah?” he said, with a smug smile. “Then how come I got presents?

“Because you’re lying,” Ben retorted, tartly.

”I am not lying,” 

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Shut up!” said the girl again, indignantly.

“You shut up, Allison!”

“Oh yeah? Well I heard a rumor you stopped talking until after Rudolph!”

The two boys fell silent immediately, though Ben stuck his tongue out at Five. 

“I was such a little asshole,” the Five beside you said.

“You were a kid,” you said, gently, “you all were.”

“I guess.”

You watched the six of them, legs too short to touch the floor, and frowned.

“It was Luther, wasn’t it? The sock.”

“Yeah,” Five said, a tender note in his voice, “and he got in trouble for it. He stole the candies from Dad’s office.”

The corner of your lip twitched outwards in a sad smile. Five’s hand was still in yours, and you squeezed it. 

The pressure seemed to bring Five back to himself, and he cleared his throat, shaking off a little of the gravity that had settled on him as he revisited his own past.

“So that’s why you need to come tomorrow,” he said, stoutly, “for Luther, Christmas is about rejecting what Dad tried to turn him into. He feeds off showing people he cares, and he wants to show you.”

“But why am I so important?” you asked, a small whine edge into your voice, “He has you guys to show he cares. Why would him not being able to serve me turkey cause armageddon? Can’t I just smooth things over with him in the New Year?”

Five gave a large sigh and looked up at the ceiling, bringing all the lines and hollows of his neck into greater prominence. 

“God, you’re so stubborn. I am done trying to get through to you. Is all this not enough for you? You hate Christmas because your parents sucked and you got dumped, I get it. But still, you had people who loved you and were kind to you, and that’s what it’s supposed to be about, asshole! What more do you want from me?”

“What?” you asked, irritated, “you just expect me to jump for joy and turn into Mrs-fucking-Claus at the drop of a hat?”

“No,” Five said, dropping your hand and setting the briefcase with gritted teeth, “I was hoping you’d get your head out of your ass long enough to realise not everything’s about you and your, frankly, pretty mundane traumas.”

“Fuck you,” you retorted, annoyed by his attitude. “I’m sorry your dad made you beat the shit out of each other, but that doesn’t mean you get to dismiss my feelings!”

“I am not dismissing your feelings,” he said, punching a final few settings on the briefcase, “but would it kill you to make Luther’s day? Sometimes we do stuff to make other people happy. That’s what it’s supposed to mean to live in a goddamn society.”

“Are you fucking kidd-” you began, but your voice was cut of as Five seized a fistful of your sweater and you disappeared in a flash of light.

Read Chapter Three >> I FEED OFF COMMENTS AND REBLOGS YUM YUM YUM

Mr Fezziwig's Ball (left) and Scrooge Extinguishes the First of The Three Spirits (right) Both by John Leech, 1843 in Dickens's A Christmas Carol, first edition (1843).

Dickens' A Christmas Carol full text available here.

Read it! It's a much better than this, and you can see how many lines I stole verbatim or clumsily referenced.

Dividers used in this series by @bernardsbendystraws (garland) and @strangergraphics (lights)

Taglist: @nevbrooke-555, @fiannee, @abeeabee6969, @chalametabingbong, @lolawassad, @icantpickanamefromonefandom @thebearmage @kaybreezy3000, @starlitflora (comment to be added or removed)

Megalist

Request info + rules

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See request info + rules for request status and more.

[taojjang]

𐙚 lonely together ᯓ p.wb.ᐟ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ advent calendar, day eighteen! pairing: wonbin x barista!reader, genre: fluff! warnings: y/n is such a scrooge!

synopsis: the holidays are the loneliest time of the year for you. having no one to spend christmas with, you decided to pick up a shift. who would've known working overtime would save you from spending another year alone.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ୨୧

nothing about christmas brought you joy.

to you, christmas was just another day. you had no one to buy gifts for, no one to get gifts from, no one to sit with by the christmas tree, no one to stay with you.

after moving away from your family to study abroad, you could no longer differentiate your days. monday was no different than saturday, morning was no different than night. every day was the same excruciatingly repetitive schedule: waking up, studying, attending classes, working, then sleeping and repeating it all the next morning.

this christmas was no different. with no school and no one to spend the day with, all you could do was rot in bed and watch the stupid couples run around in the snow outside your apartment window. those stupidly in-love couples always made you want to gag. you hated seeing them happily strolling around with their arms linked. so of course the holiday season was the least enjoyable.

after enough doomscrolling on tiktok, you decided you needed something to do before your loneliness drove you insane. so you turned to the only people you had: the cats. you've been working at a cat cafe for a few months now, and you'd never trade that job for anything. it was always so tranquil being able to make money by brewing up silly little drinks and playing with cats. so you picked up a shift.

after greeting all 7 of your kitty friends, you sat behind the counter and waited for the customers to enter. but the longer you waited, the more unbearable your loneliness grew. of course, nobody came. most people would spend time with their families on a day like this. you reminded yourself. before you knew it, your shift was over without a single person stopping by to wish you a merry christmas. so you bid the kitties a good night and stepped outside to close the shop.

as you slid the key into the door, your hands froze in fear as you heard rapid footsteps and a frantic voice calling out to you. "excuse me!" swiftly turning around, your shoulders lost their tension as your eyes met the owner of the voice. ahead of you was a timid-looking boy with long, shaggy hair. "yes..?" you replied, nervously backing closer to the door. the boy scratched the back of his head and stuttered, "are you.. closed?" you looked down at the key in your hand and nodded. "yes, we close at 8pm." the boy sighed in defeat and bowed a farewell to you, turning around and walking off with his head down.

the sullen look that radiated off of him began rubbing off on you. it was rare to see someone alone on christmas. it's just for today. you muttered to yourself before stepping forward. "you could come in if you'd like." the boy stopped in his tracks and turned to you with a completely different expression, his eyes ten times brighter and the corners of his lips lifting into an excited smile. you felt a weird feeling bubbling in your stomach the second your eyes met his. somehow, the gloomy overcast began slowly lifting from above your head. "really..?" he asked, taking small steps forward. your lips returned the smile as if they had a mind of their own. you nodded and opened the door for him, watching him excitedly skip inside.

you went inside and took off your jacket, hanging it on the coat rack. expecting him to do the same, you turned around and held your hand out to accept his coat, but he ran straight to the cats. you forced back a chuckle as he clicked his tongue and sang "hello!" to the cats. he sat on the floor and began petting the kitties with his smile growing noticeably wider. standing at the doorway, you put your hands behind your back and asked, "is there anything you'd like to order?" the boy looked up at you and asked with a gentle glint in his voice, "could i just have an iced americano?" smiling, you nodded and proceeded to the bar to brew a coffee just for him.

once you returned to the lounge with two drinks, the boy was seated on the floor, petting one of the cats on its tummy. you placed the tray of drinks on the coffee table beside him and hummed, "here you are~" the boy looked up at you with his appreciation displayed in his eyes. he gratefully accepted the drink with both hands, thanked you, and returned to the cats. before you could leave to give him alone time, his voice froze you in your path. "thank you for letting me in. i really appreciate it." you turned to face him and bubbled, "my pleasure." swallowing a sip of coffee, he looked down with uncertainty. "may i ask why you're working on a day like this..?" he asked, avoiding your gaze. you suppressed a sigh and took a seat across from him, calling over one of the cats to sit on your lap. after taking a deep breath you explained, "i don't really like christmas. i don't have anyone to celebrate it with, so i chose to pick up a shift to make the day pass a bit faster." as his head turned to face you, you noticed a shift in his gaze. the longer his gaze lingered on you, the softer it grew. "i also am alone this christmas. i guess that's why we're both here, huh..."

something about this guy was so captivating. the few words he exchanged drove softly into your ears, making your heart patter a bit faster than before. so you kept drawing words from his pretty voice, asking, "if you don't mind me asking, what's your name?" his lips curled into a soft smile. "i'm wonbin. park wonbin." the ring of his voice stringing from his lips left a remarkable impression on you. looking down at your hands and smiling to yourself, you murmured, "it suits you." warmth rising to his face, wonbin laughed with a flustered smile, "thank you," looking down at the name tag on your apron, he continued, "i think yours suits you too, y/n." hearing your name on his lips felt like a gentle melody to your ears. it was almost enticing to have your name in his mouth. you couldn't understand why wonbin felt so fascinating when you'd only known him for 10 minutes, but you did know how much you wanted to know him.

"so, why are you spending this christmas alone?" you asked, bringing the straw up to meet your lips. wonbin hummed and ran his fingers along the soft fur of the cat sprawled out ahead of him. "i live apart from my family and i'm not able to go out of town since i'm busy with work. all of my friends are spending today with their families. well don't get me wrong, i would too. but i just don't have anyone to spend the day with. so i chose to spend it with these little guys." you chuckled as wonbin tapped the heads of the three cats in front of him. "actually, me too. i'm studying abroad right now and i don't have many friends here yet, so i've had to spend the past few christmases on my own. but this year i have the cats so it's a bit more bearable!" wonbin giggled and put his drink down beside him to immerse himself in conversing with you.

the more you spoke, the more wonbin wanted to hear. the way you shared silly stories with him was entertaining yet relaxing. from being with you, he felt the burden of being alone for the holidays melt. but as the moon shone through the window, you remembered your responsibility of closing for the night. "ah, i completely forgot we're closed..." you muttered, looking at the analog clock sitting on the shelf. wonbin shifted in his seat and faltered, "should i go..?" you stood up and dusted off your pants. "we should leave before i hear it from my boss tomorrow." wonbin smiled with a peculiar disappointment to his expression. he tossed his empty cup in the trashcan and pulled his jacket over his shoulders. "well uh, it was really nice talking to you, y/n." he awkwardly stuffed his hands in his pocket and looked at you with slight gloom. you nodded and gave him a reassuring smile. "i enjoyed being with you too, wonbin. thank you for spending today with me!" wonbin bowed and turned on his feet to head out the door. but once he lingered in the doorway, he felt something tugging at his heart. turning to meet your eyes, wonbin spoke with pink-flushed cheeks, "would you like to have dinner together? you know... for the holidays." you couldn't ignore the fluttering feeling emanating from your chest. "i'd love to."

you didn't expect to leave your overtime shift hand-in-hand with a new friend.

nor did you expect to be saved from spending another christmas alone.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ୨୧

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ tag list! (ask or comment to be added!)

@endtostartbreathin @gacktsa @hanninova @ramyeonzprincess @taroddori

[bellobambino]

BECSPK

A Luigi Mangione Fic

748w

Summary: Luigi risks it all for some real fucking food.

Author's Note: yeahcanigetuhhhhhh -- lulu is hiding, planning, plotting.

November 27, 2024. Paterson, NJ

I'm cracking open yet another can of Chef Boyardee, staring at the contents. This looks like worms. And this was the most appealing option. Hunger recently has morphed into a strange dull ache and fatigue that i don’t even associate with food anymore.

I opened the cabinet where I stored the cornucopia of sadness. A whole lineup of despair in aluminum. Corn. Green Beans. Spam. Baby mushrooms. There's only so many vienna sausages a guy can eat before he ends up on the news. Squatting there, holding open the cabinet, I caught sight of my wrists. Thin. Weirdly thin. I'm starting to not recognize my own body. My usually bronzed and built, gym bro body.

And it pissed me off. I slammed the cabinet so hard it left a brief ringing in my ears. I took up my pacing route through the apartment, fists clenched. My head was swimming, and my vision was vibrating with my sudden rage. Or maybe it's the hunger. Probably both. I rubbed my eyes hard with my fists, then scratched my scalp with my fingernails just to break myself out of my sudden insanity.

Executive decision: I need to get some real food. Something made by a human being that’s warm and wasn’t sitting in a can since the Obama administration. I didn’t give a rats ass about being ‘missing’. I’m about to risk it all for a bacon, egg, and cheese.

I threw on a hoodie and jeans, grabbed twenty bucks, and left before I could reconsider. I locked  the door and then triple-checked it because paranoia is free and I’ve got it in spades.The air outside is terribly cold, stabbing through my hoodie like needles, but I don’t care. The fresh air woke me up, and it was almost… nice. I hadn’t left this dump in months, and just being out felt like stepping into Disney World.

I could see the fluorescent lights of the B&G bodega spilling out onto the cracked sidewalk, a warm yellow glow was my light at the end of the tunnel..But when I finally got there and opened the door, the warmth and smell of grease and coffee hit me like a gift from God.

The guy behind the counter barely looked up when I ordered. “Bacon, egg, and cheese, salt, pepper, ketchup on a hard roll,” He nodded, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, then wiping that on his apron. Okay, gross, but i’d be dumb to say anything. 

While he worked the grill, I wandered. The shelves were stocked with the usual bodega mix: snacks, basic pantry items, cleaning supplies, and—wait, plants? There was a whole section dedicated to houseplants under grow lights. Why? Who knows. Maybe the owner was trying to class the place up a bit. Big job for a philodendron. 

That’s when I saw it. Nestled behind the plants, lounging like a little furry king, was a cat. A gray and white tabby, all curled up under the warmth of the grow lights. I swear it looked like something out of a Christmas card. I nearly gasped. I don’t know what possessed me, but I reached out and scratched its neck. And you know what? The little guy loved me. Started rubbing against my hand, purring like a motorboat. For a moment, I forgot about everything—my hunger, my situation, the cold. Just me and this cat. “You like that, huh?” I muttered, smiling for what felt like the first time in weeks.

The ding of the register snapped me out of it. My sandwich was ready. I left the cat reluctantly and walked back to the counter. The guy handed me the foil-wrapped masterpiece, sniffling. I paid, left a tip (because I was raised right), and headed back out into the cold.

Back on the futon in the apartment, I unwrapped the sandwich like it was my birthday. The smell hit me first—bacon, eggs, cheese, all hot and gooey and perfect. I took a bite, and—oh, my god. Chef’s kiss. I actually moaned, like a girl, but I just couldn’t blame me. It was the best thing I’d eaten in months. Probably the best thing I’d ever eaten, period.

For a few minutes, I wasn’t a stalker, or a guy losing himself in some rundown apartment in Paterson. I was just Lu, sitting on a futon, eating the most perfect bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich in the history of the whole world.

[nightcolorz]

What would the book characters think if they meet their show counterparts?

I think book Lestat wouldn't like show Lestat at all but he'll have the hots for everyone on the show immediately

Book Daniel would be in shock that his show version is old in human years, that's like, his worst nightmare, he'd have a mental breakdown over it, meanwhile book Armand would love to know show Armand held on so long before giving Daniel the dark gift and his beloved got to live a full life before becoming a vampire

Book Armand would also obsess about show Armand's adult body

Book and show Louis would NOT get on, show Louis would just not stop going "A WHITE MAN???" He would also call the book version boring (and dull, and beige pillow like...)

I loooooveeee this question I actually think about this all the time 😭😭. So so hilarious to me I want to put the book characters and the show characters in a cage match.

I think Show Louis would hate book Louis bcus book Louis is like the embodiment of his flaws in a way 💀💀 he’s like everything bad about show Louis in 4K. Show Louis reacts to book Louis the way he’d react to the Christmas carol ghosts showing him all his fuck ups. What’s funny to me about the race change is that show Louis’s ancestors were slave owners, and if he was born in the 1700s he’d likely have been a slave owner, so meeting wet cat book Louis who is him if he was just a little bit older and way whiter and realizing how terrible he is would be a mind fuck. It’d be like meeting his shitty great great great grandfather who also has his same taste in poetry. On the other hand I think book Louis would be equally as aghast by show Louis being a pimp as show Louis is about book Louis being a slave owner 😭. Book Louis’s moral problems r largely religion based and I think he’d be confused and startled by how little catholic purity standards matter to show Louis 💀. But book Louis is also very polite and southernly passive aggressively pleasant and soft spoken to strangers so I think any kind of altercation that could occur would be very one sided 💀. Show louis is like wtf wtf is this what is wrong with u and book Louis is reading his book silently and frowning.

if book Daniel met show Daniel he’d instantly go into cardiac arrest and die from agony before show Daniel could give him the older self “don’t do drugs u wild youth” inspirational talk. Exactly what u said 💀 its so funny that they made show Daniel old bcus of how afraid book Daniel is of growing old

And YES on all the Armand thoughts loolll. I feel like book Armand and show Armand r the only book vs show characters that would get along. I think book Armand would be veryyy envious of show Armand 😭 bcus show Armand is Book Armand if he was morally stronger, made decisions more soundly and kindly, was an adult, and had giant pecks. He’d would definitely be star struck over how show Armand didn’t turn Daniel until he was an old man and he’d probably go into a insecure self hating spiral from seeing his (perceived) stronger and better and sexier au self. I think also, show Armand would be very kind to book Armand. I get the impression that as a teenager show Armand did look and act more like book Armand does, and he’d react sort of like “this is me if things went more wrong and I was still the teenager that haunts me, look at him hes trying his best” I think show Armand would admire book Armand’s endurance and his self sufficiency (that show Armand doesn’t have) and be kind of like, well if tiny cherub me can live like this maybe I can to. But I think the key to the Armand’s getting along better then the other characters would would be how both Armand’s r so mentally ill and so existential and religious that talking to some alternate version of themselves would not phase them and probably would be like common occurrence of the week 💀

Show lestat and book lestat would hate fuck 💀l think book Lestat would go into a “you hurt my Louis 😰 JAIL jail for 100000 years” spiral, but then eventually get himself together and be like “yknow what I also am evil and have problems who am I to judge” and he’d remember that he is super attracted to men who look like him but are older and smarter and start stripping immediately. I think both lestats would be mad about seeing their flaws reflected in each other and express that by crazy self cest fucking and then lie on the floor together doing each others eyeliner and crying

thank u for the ask this is my favorite thing lol

[samsquirkyspace]

Solving the Top 5 Cat Christmas Stocking Dilemmas for Pet Owners

Are you a devoted cat lover with fur-babies that light up your life? Then, you understand the importance of making every holiday season special for your feline companions. One of the most delightful traditions is hanging Christmas stockings for your cats, but it can come with its set of challenges. We’ve got you covered!

Problem 1: Size Matters 🐾

Finding the right-sized stocking can be a daunting task. You want one that’s spacious enough to hold treats and toys but not so big that it overwhelms your fur-baby.

Solution: Opt for stockings with a balance between roomy and manageable. Our stockings are designed to comfortably fit your cat’s goodies.

Problem 2: Durability Concerns 😼

Cats are playful, and their curiosity knows no bounds. You need a stocking that can withstand those sharp claws and adventurous paws.

Solution: Look for stockings made from high-quality materials, ensuring they stand up to your cat’s playful antics.

Problem 3: Design Preferences 🎨

You want your cat’s stocking to blend seamlessly with your decor, but your fur-babies might have different design tastes.

Solution: Explore stockings that balance aesthetic appeal and your cat’s interests. Our range includes a variety of styles to please both you and your feline friends.

Problem 4: Quality vs. Price 💰

It’s essential to strike a balance between a high-quality stocking and your budget. You don’t want to compromise on your fur-baby’s holiday joy.

Solution: Our stockings offer exceptional quality without breaking the bank.

Problem 5: Personalization Dilemma 🎁

The choice between a personalized stocking and a pre-designed one can be tricky. You want your cat’s stocking to be unique, just like your fur-baby.

Solution: Our stockings can be personalized, ensuring your fur-babies get a stocking as unique as they are.

Get the Perfect Cat Stocking 🎅🏻

Ready to solve these dilemmas and make this Christmas extra special for your fur-babies? Visit our website to explore our range of unique and cute cat Christmas stockings. We’ve carefully crafted these stockings with you and your fur-babies in mind.

Visit our website to find the perfect cat Christmas stocking for your fur-babies. Don’t forget to follow us to stay updated on the latest Christmas cat stocking gifts and more. Your fur-babies will thank you for it! 🐱❤️

Click here: https://www.zazzle.co.uk/store/christmassygifts?rf=238674874943549094

[petsync]

funny cat clothes Cat Sweatshirt, Cat Mom Sweater, Cat Dad Shirt,Cat Lover Gift, Cat Portrait,Cat Owner Gift, Cat Lover Sweatshirt,Cat Shirt🥰🥰👈👈

[coquettebeautiful]

25% Off Sale – Now Through Saturday!

Don't miss out on our biggest savings of the season! Enjoy 25% off all items in our Etsy store now through Saturday. Hurry—this deal ends soon! Shop now and save big! 🎉

Gifts for Pets#Pet Owner Gifts#Personalized Pet#Pets Picture Gifts#Hand Pet Painting#Personalized Gifts#Photo Art#Multiple Pet Art#Cat Prints Canvas#Painting Of Cat#Custom Cat Print#Hyper realism Cat#Memorisation Cat,#Custom Pet Portraits Using Pet Photo#Personalized Digital Dog Portraits#Cat Portraits#Custom Dog Portraits#Custom Pet Art Pet Drawing#Personalize Christmas Dog Portrait#Dog & Cat Art#Unique Holiday Gift#Digital Animal Portrait#Perfect for Pet Lovers#Gift For Her#Unique Custom Pixel Art#Pet Portrait#Custom Dog Portrait#Custom Cat Portrait#Digital Pixel Art#Personalized Portrait from Photo#Custom Watercolor Portraits#Using Pet Photo Personalized Digital Dog Portraits#Cat Portraits#Custom Dog Portraits#Custom Pet Memorial Art#Custom Animal Art#Dog Portrait From Photo Oil#Oil Painting From Photo Dog#Dog Picture to Watercolor#Canvas Pet Art#16x20 Watercolor Pet#Custom Pet Portrait 16x20#Canvas Wall Art Dogs#Personalized Painting of Pets#Personalized Dog Portrait Framed#Personalized Digital Pet Portrait#Custom Lady Cat Portrait#Framed Dog Art#Dog Framed Painting#Dog Abstract Painting#Pet Portraits Custom#Golden Retriever Paint#Pet Memorial Portrait 4x6#Hand Painted Pet Painting#Commissioned#Dog Portrait#Custom Gift#Pet Memorial Gift#Dog Memorial Gift#Pet Portrait From Photo#Pet Painters#Pet Photos#Personalized Gifts#Dog Pets#Gift Pets#Personalized Pets#Digital Prints#Mod Paws Us#Modpaws Usa#Customizable Dog Prints#Dog Portrait Custom Painting#Gifts for Pets#Pet Owner Gifts#Personalized Gifts Dog#Dog Prints Canvas#Custom Portrait Dog Photo Art#Personalized Portrait of Dog#Framed Painting of Dog#Personalized Pet#Memorializing Dog#Pets Picture Gifts#Hyperrealism Dog#Dog Oil Painting#Custom Dog Portrait Digital Download#

[daredevils-advocate]

Speaking of the numerals love languages. Would you please walk us through iv's next? I think his might be touch too. I was reminded how insane him leaning himself on people makes me after you wrote 'he is using ii as a head rest' 😭

Bet!

Okay, so I absolutely see where you're coming from with Ivy possibly also having touch as his love language, and I can absolutely see that argument being made for all of them. But I'm gonna expand on this post a bit and show you why I think it's actually gift giving.

Once again, not my photos, credit to original owners <3

Fan gifts

So like I pointed out in my previous post, IV is the one most likely to pick up/use a fan gift. He's constantly taking things from the crowd or picking up tossed things (I repeat, don't throw shit on stage.) And I don't think it's a coincidence that even when III or Ves are the ones to pick things up and wear it, it's probably going to end up with IV anyway. He loves receiving those little presents and the others make sure he gets them

Even when he's not supposed to be taking things he ends up with little presents, as we see in these pixels when he picked up this cat ear headband on his way off the stage after it was known that they weren't supposed to accept anything this time.

Signs

Talking about this point because I feel like he would see a sign someone made as a form of gift because even if it's not something he can hold or keep with him, someone still took their time and energy to make it in hopes he'd see it and that's really sweet. If he sees one that catches his eye he almost always points it out and creates a special little moment with the person holding it. Now this one is a little hard to get photo evidence of, but off the top of my head I believe Tank (@/watertankafternoon) [if you see this I just didn't wanna tag you completely unprompted 😅] has talked about their moment with him during Euclid in Budapest and I believe did find a video that someone managed to get of the moment, and you can find many other stories like that about Ivy specifically. Yeah, the others have pointed out signs and things but IV always finds time to make a special little moment about it.

Giving

So this might be my shakiest point because it's kinda hard to give things to each other on stage. Like I said, it seems like when trading around fan gifts, IV seems to be on the receiving end usually, and if he hands it to someone else it tends to happen during backstage intermissions. However, what happened last night in London with the Christmas crackers seems to be possibly my strongest evidence for the claim. When III started bringing them out, just walking up and opening them with people, I know I saw clips of him doing it with IV and the Espera but I'm not sure how often he actually pulled them out, but he lost every time and was getting more and more disappointed with it. Up until Rain, when IV was the one who approached him with a cracker I'm fairly certain was rigged in III's favor. You can tell he's barely holding onto the end. He could tell III was getting agitated with not winning and gave him one he couldn't lose. He makes his little gifts count.

So here's my evidence on IV's love language being gift giving

[littlemissstel]

Thinking about sukuna and

that one "Kitty you better not be dead" song.

Like imagine him finding this abandoned cat (In the modern au) and laughing at it because it looks absolutely repulsive, drenched and dirty in a cardboard box but then it starts following him- making cute noises (it sounds like screaming rather than meowing) as if having a conversation.

He lives in a shitty apartment above a convenience store. Technically he doesn't have to, but he simply doesn't care enough to find somewhere else, let alone have the means to maintain it.

And then he realizes the poor thing is limping! So now he has to take it to the vet but- OMFG are cat medical bills expensive, and he was just a drug dealer on the low, but now he's gotta sell some REAL stuff

This guy would flop on the sofa after meeting with ONE buyer and let out the biggest sigh as if he just slaved away at a 9-5, cussing out the cat for being, "So fuckin' needy."

Now he has to do his research on public forums about the best cat food and gets pissy when the normal one he gets is out of stock. At some point he has enough and either buys in bulk or cuts a deal with the shop owner bellow (he is friends with) and pays them to add it to their shelves which he can now do because the cat encouraged him to start working seriously.

At first it was the vet bills, then he realised that food was expensive, and to set up basics like litter boxes, bowls... And of course the cat needs a leash? The vet said it would be best for his kitty to be an indoor cat and so outside appearances must be special, meaning their leash must be decorate and on brand. Don't get him started on the cold- the poor baby needs clothes too.

He unintentionally raised up the ranks in his "job", then got noticed by one of the higher ups in the underworld. Now he is doing the real dirty work. That also means his hours are more demanding and he simply can't have that. What was his kitty supposed to do all by themselves?

Now he has to take the kitty into torture rooms with him. Make sure they are strapped in when he does a drive by and tells the person he kidnapped in the boot to shut up because his kitten is sleeping peacefully in the backseat. What a pain.

There are only a few people Sukuna trusts with his pride and joy, two of them being Nanami Kento and Uarame, who were more than amused to see the ever so infamous man take such careful measures with the small creature. That being said they quickly put anyone else who openly acknowledges it in their place and have also formed a bond with the cat, even going as far to send gifts on its birthday and Christmas.

Sukuna would end up hunting down the person who left the kitty by getting into the street cameras.

He'd rather kill a thousand people than go a day without his cat.

I'm going to write something proper on this, i adore this concept SO much! PLEAASSEE leave name ideas for the cat!!!