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shy-writer-999 · 8 days ago

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Baking Christmas cookies with Sanji 🍪❤️

Summary: Sanji has the cutest idea for a Christmas cookie date. But what happens when he gets too carried away? ~900 words. CW: Smutty/spicy/nsfw since I mentioned he gets... excited... a couple times. Heavy makeout sesh & lots of hands. Pet names (e.g., angel), but no overtly gendered language.

Artwork by @hirakyun13~ (thank you so much for collabing with me!)

A pretty blonde chef with a holiday apron and a pan full of cookies stands in front of you and you can’t help but be distracted. He’s just too cute.

You can’t even pay attention to the pan of cookies because you’re lost in those pretty eyes, mesmerized by that pretty smile, pretty hair, swirly eyebrows, soft skin, sweet lips—“My love?” He snaps you out of the stupor you’re lost in. “My love, did you hear me? What color of icing do you think would look best on these?”

The present moment races back to you—you’re been making cookies with Sanji, Christmas cookies, no less. It’s a cute date idea he proposed to you.

You tell him the colors you have in mind for the icing. The baking tray is covered with two kinds of cookies—gingersnaps and sugar cookies in pretty shapes. They smell heavenly, and they’re going to taste even better (Sanji’s own recipe).

“Fantastic choices, beautiful.” Sanji responds and sets the pan on a cooling rack.

After a few more minutes, you’ve rolled out and shaped another tray full. They go in the oven and Sanji sets the kitchen timer—at least, he thinks he does. He’s too distracted by you, though. When his finger goes to press the ‘start’ button, he misses, but doesn’t realize it. So, the timer doesn’t actually start. You don’t notice, though.

“Now that we’ve got fifteen minutes, what should we do?” He smiles and sidles over to you, a whole two feet, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards him.

“You’re looking pretty delicious, gorgeous.” He grins and blushes. He’s about to say something extremely corny. “Even more delicious than the cookies we’re making. I could just eat you up.”

His last few words are broken up by kisses that he peppers on every part of your face. His lips press onto your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your eyes, and your jaw. Eventually they land on your lips.

Through his smile, he kisses you delicately. You’d think he’s afraid of breaking you. You’ve told him countless times that you’re not made of glass, but no matter how many times you’ve told him, he doesn’t seem to listen.

He smells clean and barely musky, with an overtone (obviously) of cigarettes, coffee, and sugar (from the cookies). It’s a smell that only Sanji could have, a distinct and yummy one. It almost makes your mouth water.

His hands wander. They love to do that. From your waist, they inch downwards. For a few moments, for a few kisses, his hands stay perched on your hips. But then they pass lower and he bends with them. He scoops you up and you’ve got the position memorized. Sanji reaches under your thighs and you hop ever-so slightly.

You’ve memorized the routine—he picks you up and you wrap your legs around him.

Walking a couple of paces over to open counter space, Sanji places you there and your hands come to rest over his shoulders.

His kisses get sloppier. Greedier. Needier. His hands do the same. They snake down to your ass and he grabs rough handfuls. After kneading for a second, Sanji’s lips start to wander, too.

He leaves butterfly-style kisses across your neck, sucking softly for a moment before moving lower to the hollow of your throat, then the slope of your collar bone. He leaves a bite, and his hands inch to your chest.

You can tell that the gentle cook has forgotten that there are cookies in the oven that demand his attention.

As Sanji starts getting more worked up, you can also tell he’s getting hard. He’s so easily worked up like this that it’s endearing.

His hair shifts as he kisses you and his soft strands softly pass over the skin on your forehead. You can feel him slowly rutting his hips into you, and you squeeze him closer to you with your legs.

As his hands creep under the hem of your shirt and trail upwards, he freezes.

It smells like smoke. Like something is on fire.

Sanji’s head whips around to look at the oven and, sure enough, the cookies are burning, bad.

“Fuck!” he exclaims and practically jumps. After a second, he pulls himself together, trying not to be too jarring around you, but you know that if he was alone right now he’d be being a whole lot more dramatic.

Sanji pulls his hands off of you and goes to open the oven—a puff of smoke wafts out and he gets a face-full.

“It looks like the cookies are burnt, gorgeous. I guess I didn’t actually start the timer.”

He’s frowning in the cutest way possible, but it turns into a sweet smile after a second.

“How about we throw these ones away, and we let the first batch keep cooling while we go do something else?”

You nod in agreement to his proposition and hop down from the counter.

As Sanji does away with the burned up, blackened crisps that once were holiday cookies, you watch him attentively. Even the way he moves his hands is graceful and intentional, measured and deliberate.

He turns and gives you a smile when he realizes you’re observing him. “Like what you see, angel?”

When you turn bright red, he takes off his apron and puts it over your head.

“That’s more like it. Now let’s go be distracted together.”

thank u so much for reading and happy holidays!! another reminder that the lovely lovely @hirakyun13 did the art for this and please go check out here page!

here's my masterlist and the holiday event masterlist 🎄 xoxo

#sanji smut #op sanji smut #op smut #op x reader #one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #sanji fluff #one piece smut

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pastryfication · 12 days ago

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how can it be christmas?

pairing: lando norris x ex!reader

part three of my advent celebration

the christmas market was alive, the kind of place where people came to forget their troubles. families bustled between stalls, children clutched sweets in mittened hands, and couples huddled close against the cold, their laughter mixing with the carols drifting through the air.

but for lando norris, it was a graveyard of memories.

his sister had insisted he come. “you need to get out,” she’d said, her voice gentle but firm. and so he’d let her drag him here, to this swirl of lights and music and joy that felt entirely foreign to him.

he walked a few steps behind his family, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, his head low against the cold. he wasn’t sure why he’d let her convince him. christmas wasn’t the same anymore. not since he’d lost you.

the memory of last christmas was a ghost that lingered everywhere. the way you’d begged him to take the weekend off so you could visit a market just like this one, teasing him about how grumpy he’d been about the cold. the way your eyes lit up when you found that snowflake ornament—the one he’d insisted wasn’t worth the price, only to buy it behind your back and surprise you later.

that snowflake now hung on his tree at home. the only ornament he’d put up this year.

he hadn’t expected the memories to hit him this hard. every laugh, every couple holding hands, every damn strand of lights reminded him of you. and the worst part was knowing that he was the one who ruined it. he’d made the decision to let you go, convinced it was for your sake. that you deserved better than a boyfriend who was always gone, always distracted, always in a different time zone.

but the truth was that he’d been a coward.

he hadn’t wanted to admit how much you loved him, how willing you were to fight for a relationship he hadn’t been brave enough to believe in. and so he’d walked away. left you standing in the doorway of his flat, your voice breaking as you’d asked him why he was doing this.

he could still see your face. still hear the way you’d said, “i would’ve waited, lando. i would’ve tried.”

he shook the memory off, forcing himself to focus on the present. he trailed his sister and her kids as they stopped at a stall selling roasted chestnuts, his mind a million miles away.

then he heard it—a laugh.

it wasn’t loud or particularly distinct, but something about it cut through the noise of the market like a knife. his heart clenched, and before he could stop himself, he turned toward the sound.

and there you were.

at first, he thought he was imagining it. he hadn’t seen you in months, hadn’t let himself even check your social media because the pain of seeing you move on felt unbearable. but now, here you were, standing just a few meters away.

you were bundled up against the cold, a scarf wrapped high around your neck, your cheeks pink from the chill. for a moment, everything else faded away, and all he could do was stare.

you turned slightly, laughing again at something someone said, and that’s when he saw him.

the man standing beside you.

he was tall, with an easy smile and an arm draped casually over your shoulders. he leaned close to you, his face tilted toward yours, and you responded by leaning into him, your smile soft and effortless.

lando’s stomach twisted violently.

he couldn’t move. couldn’t breathe. he’d thought about this moment so many times, imagined what it might feel like to see you with someone else. but nothing had prepared him for the reality of it.

you looked happy.

more than happy. you looked alive in a way he hadn’t seen in so long, and the sight of it broke something inside him.

he told himself he should look away, that he didn’t have the right to stand here and watch you like this. but he couldn’t. his feet were rooted to the cobblestones as he took in the way the man handed you a steaming cup of something, his hand brushing yours. you smiled up at him, your eyes bright, and lando felt his heart shatter all over again.

you’d moved on.

of course, you had. he was the one who left. the one who broke your heart and told you that it was for your own good. he’d told himself he was doing the right thing, letting you go so you could have a life that didn’t revolve around his career, his absence, his shortcomings.

but it wasn’t for your good—it was for his. he hadn’t been strong enough to hold on to you, to let himself believe he deserved you. and now he was standing here, a hollow version of the man he used to be, watching someone else live the life he’d thrown away.

his throat burned as he forced himself to look away, his hands trembling in his pockets. he turned and walked aimlessly into the crowd, his mind racing, his chest tight.

how had he let it get to this point?

he passed a lamppost strung with lights and leaned against it, sucking in a shaky breath. the air was icy, biting against his skin, but it wasn’t enough to numb the ache in his chest.

“lando?”

his sister’s voice cut through the haze, and he looked up to see her standing in front of him, her brow furrowed in concern. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” he said quickly, his voice rough. “i just needed some air.”

she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t push. instead, she glanced back toward the crowd. “we were about to grab hot chocolate. want to join us?”

he shook his head, barely able to meet her eyes. “no. i think i’m gonna head home.”

she hesitated, her hand brushing his arm. “are you sure?”

“yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’ll see you later.”

she didn’t look convinced, but she nodded and stepped away, leaving him alone.

lando stayed there for a long time, staring down at the cobblestones as the market buzzed around him, before he finally forced himself to move, his legs heavy, his heart heavier. he didn’t look back, didn’t risk another glimpse of you.

it didn’t matter. the image of you—your smile, your laugh, the way you leaned into the man beside you—was burned into his memory.

as he walked away, the snow falling softly around him, lando realized something he’d been too afraid to admit.

this was what he deserved.

and no matter how many christmases came and went, it would never feel like christmas again.

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artbyblastweave · 1 day ago

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I’ve been vaguely following TF2 comics (I’ve read 6 and 7 and know a few plot beats and the general storyline) and from the outside it seems like Engineer and Pyro have gotten way less “screen time” than anyone else

Pyro makes sense, there’s only so much you can do with them but Engineer feels way to engaging to be left out like that

so am i wrong or is Engie just not shown to much, and if so why?

Engineer is noticeably out of focus in the comics, and there are two important throughlines in his characterization contributing to this.

The first is that out of the nine mercenaries he's always been the most plugged in to the backstory- the comic where we learned his real name is the one that introduced the backstory, he's the only one of the mercenaries to have actually canonically met one the Mann brothers, the only one who for sure knows what the gravel wars are ostensibly being fought over- and that level of involvement with the background plot, coupled with his genius, level-headedness and comparatively high empathy, makes him difficult to position front-and-center as a protagonist without breaking a bunch of things.

The second thing setting him apart from the rest of the mercenaries is that while he's enough of an eccentric to rise to the challenge of the setting's gonzo insanity, he's almost never the instigator of any of it. His Meet the Team video consists of him sitting and relaxing while his sentry guns mow down waves of assailants, monologuing about the measured practicality of his escalating response. His response to the teleporter tumor problem in Expiration Date is a grounded and practical approach to a ridiculous situation (that's exacerbated by Soldier.) He's minding his own business when a rocket full of space guns lands on his back acre on Christmas Eve, he spends the entirety of Loose Canon flummoxed by Blutarch's amoral insanity (though importantly, he's nonetheless willing to take the man's money for services rendered.) He's a fantastic straight man when the narrative needs such a figure, but his isn't a flashy insanity. He's not Soldier, he's not Medic, he's not even Heavy as far as out-of-pocket gag behavior goes. Almost all humor involving the Engineer has to do with his reaction (or lack thereof) to the bizarre carnage around him.

These factors are reflected in the role he ends up playing in TF comics 6 and 7. He's kept in the background of the plot in a reactive role, doing his professional best as an Engineer to maintain the Administrator's life extender- a frustated care-provider to a deeply unwell patient who doesn't always take his advice, a grounded, practical facilitator of what ultimately turns out to be the most deranged behavior of the entire story, seeing his contract out to the bitter end. And this is the way in which his apparent groundedness wraps back around into a distinct brand of crazy, no better than anyone else. The Administrator's real plan is something he's a reasonable enough person to disapprove of in the abstract. He's clearly aware something is rotten at the core of all this- he describes Miss Pauling actually managing to recover more Australium as her having created a problem rather than having solved one, he was on some level relieved to realize this was all drawing to a close. But none of this was something he was willing to break his professional obligations over and thus something he (and two generations of his family before him) deliberately kept themselves in the dark about so that they wouldn't have to reckon with it or make that call.

This passivity and level-headedness allow him to play an extremely important narrative role once everything is out in the open- he's the only member of the main cast who can present Miss Pauling with her Road-to-Damascus moment over what to do with the remaining Australium with any credible gravity. He's the only character left in the main cast besides Pauling herself who's plugged in enough that his analysis of her situation carries any weight. He's the only one of the Mercenaries from whom "If you keep it, I won't help you" means anything at all or is even a believable ultimatum- the rest of the mercs might have been freaked out by The Administrator specifically, but do you really think they wouldn't have just kept following their friend Miss Pauling if she kept signing their checks? He does what he's always done- he examines the situation, lays out the available options, and leaves the final call up to others. The only thing that changes- and, to some extent, a sign of his off-screen character development- is this time is that he finally draws a line in the sand as to what course of action he'll lend his expertise to. He threatens to finally, finally remove himself from the situation unless Pauling decides that she wants him to help her finally, finally solve the problem once and for all.

#team fortress 2 #the engineer #dell conagher #tf2 #tf2 analysis #thoughts #meta #asks #ask #the days have worn away #tf comics #tf2 spoilers #tf2 comics issue 7 #tf2 engineer #tf2 the days have worn away #his last line in the comic is agreeing to help with the practical specifics of solving the problem #it's poetry! It rhymes

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bkgsdoll · 13 days ago

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౨ৎ❆ ₊˚♡⊹ i smell snow - katsmas day 1

❄️︵︵　summary: getting a whiff of snow one chilly night, you persuade your grumpy neighbor to join you to watch the first snowfall of the year 🍫︵︵　notes: gilmore girls au, bakugou x reader, fluff, the rest of these cw are for ppl who havent watched the show: reader is a young mom, this is mostly dialogue tbh but a huge part of the show is how quick and witty everyone is, 🎀︵︵　word count: 1.8k

you wave and call out to your friend across the block, "night, katsukiiii!" you've known bakugou as your grumpy but somehow caring neighbor since you moved to stars hollow so many years ago. he grunts in response, dismissively throwing his hand before pulling down his scarf and disappearing into his house.

the holidays in your merry little town always filled you with joy. seeing the beautiful red and green lights adorning every lamp post, the festive cookies being sold at iida's market, and the gorgeous nutcracker ballet that mina forced her dancers to perform each year. it all combined to make you feel high-spirited. christmas time's especially meaningful as you never had experienced a proper childhood with the excitement of opening presents or building gingerbread houses, so the cheery season rekindles that sense of wonder and excitement within you.

"awe, that is soo cute! while you two are making googly eyes at each other, i'll just freeze to death. no biggie, don't worry about me..!"

you spin around with a playful roll of your eyes. "huh, i wonder where you get this dramatic flair from," you stick out your tongue to your teenage daughter, rory, waving your hand around in her face before unlocking the front door.

you drop your keys into a dish shaped like betty boop’s head, your feet tripping over each other as you make your way to the kitchen. all you hope for in this very moment is just one more chocolate pop tart to coat your tastebuds with its sweet chocolatey-ness. you swing open the fridge, stomping your foot with a pouty frown and glare when you find it nearly empty.

"ughhh nooo!! my life is overrrr, we're out of pop tarts! why didn't you grab some at iida's roryyyyyy?" you whine annoyingly, dropping yourself into a chair and dramatically burying your face into your hands. rory giggles, patting your head with mock sympathy as she walks by.

she shrugs off her fuzzy red coat with a soft tsk, "you're right, i have noo idea where i get it from!" she exclaims, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

"and by the way," she snaps her fingers, catching your attention. she lifts a silver wrapped chocolate pop tart from the counter, wiggling her eyebrows like it was obviously there (cuz it was). you gasp, your jaw dropping cartoonishly. "b-but-" you start with furrowed eyebrows only to be cut off a second later.

"since when do we keep pop tarts in the fridge?" she hums, opening the wrapper and breaking off a piece of the treat before handing you the rest.

"this is all your fault!" you huff, nibbling into the chocolate as soon as it reached your hand. "keeping them in the fridge makes them nice and coldd.. what if i didn't want to toast it? huh? what if i just wanted a cool, chilled, crazy good pop tart?"

she shrugs, utterly unbothered. "okaay, princess, i sincerely apologize,"

the rest of the evening was a blur of corny reruns from a show you and rory had stumbled upon one particularly slow night. the two of you ended up asleep on the couch, wrapped in the cocoon of a large cozy blanket. then the quiet of the night was interrupted when you awoke suddenly, your senses sharpening.

your eyes widen a little as you sniff the air, the distinct scent of something magical wafting through the room. you gasp excitedly, turning to your daughter. you shake her arm, "rory! wake up!!" you whisper-yell.

the girl whines, keeping her heavy eyes shut as she sleepily groans, "whaaaat?"

"i smell it!" you chirp, spinning your head to the window. "i smell snoww!!!"

you get up and tumble to the window, dragging the fluffy blanket along with you followed by a squeak from rory at the sudden chill. you push aside your pink curtain, peering at the night sky. "i love snow..!" you squeal. "everything's magical when it snows, like the world's wearing a big fat sparkly dress!"

"when is it coming down?" rory yawns, shuffling over to you sleepily.

"in like a half hour.. i'm so excited!!" your eyes fixed on the dark sky.

rory whines again, her face scrunched as she let out another long yawn. "i’m tiredddd, m going back to sleep. take pictures." she huffs, waddling back to her bedroom.

you pout after her, still gazing out the window, your heart filled with anticipation.

you don't like watching the first snowfall of the year alone. you always do it with someone whether its a boyfriend or rory. you huff, folding your arms and thinking of what to do. it's then you remember katsuki-- even though he goes to sleep early, he'll still watch with you, right? he’d do this one simple thing for you-- he's always doing stuff much grander for your benefit anyway.

so you grab a post-it and scribble down a quick note to rory in case she wakes up, leaving it under her door. you pull on your babyish pink swan hat and coat before hurrying out the door and making your way to your neighbor's.

you knock once, twice, and almost a third time before the door opens. bakugou stands there, looking entirely too put-together for someone who’s clearly just woken up.

“what?” he grumbles, his voice still thick with sleep.

“we’re gonna miss it!--” you exclaim, your words practically bursting with urgency.

he grunts, "if yer talkin about sleep, then yah."

"nono, cmonnn!! we gotta goo, it's gonna snow!" you hop from foot to foot with barely contained excitement.

he scoffs with a deep frown, "fuck no, its fuckin freezin."

you pout, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. "pleaseeee! for lil ol me? ill buy more coffee and- and- and you'll get soo rich!" you nod enthusiastically with a cheesy grin.

he rolls his eyes, grabbing his coat off the hook with a sigh. "no, ya don't need any more damn coffee in yer system. already give ya more than i should."

you squeal with delight, grabbing his arm and tugging him outside. “hooray! hurry, hurry!!”

he regrets this. the two of you have been standing outside for ten minutes for this stupid snow, and there's been nothing.

"the forecast didn't predict shit." katsuki huffs, his hot breath visible in the cold air.

you don't acknowledge him, too distracted by the anticipation. “i love flakes, flurries, swirls, crystals... me and snow, we have a beautiful history,” you muse, your voice full of fond nostalgia.

the blond lets out an exasperated sigh. “saw two fuckin forecasts, and neither of ‘em said anything about snow,” he growls, shivering as you still cling to his arm.

katsuki stares ahead blankly before doing a double take towards you. he scoffs with a light chuckle. "didya get yer hat from carter's?" he mocks your babyish pink swan hat, but you ignore him, tapping his arm insistently. "it's coming, i know it is.. i'm never ever wrong," your tone unwavering, he watches you gaze at the night sky, his eyes filled with a mixture disbelief and a little something else. he's shamefully endeared by your childlike wonder, even if it is annoying at times-- almost like dealing with a very persistent, stubborn child.

“it needs to come fasterrr...” you whine, blinking at the sky, willing the magical snow to appear.

“oh, geez, ya want it to come faster?” he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm-- until you realize he wasn't planning on hearing your witty response. without another word uttered, he leans in, his lips crashing against yours. no words, no warning, just a quiet, unspoken understanding that he’s been waiting for this moment.

he's the one who pulls back just a few seconds later, his face flushed from the cold december air and his flustered nerves. you don't say anything. you simply stare at the blond with eyes that long to hear him speak, say anything. you've never seen this side of bakugou with you before, and it makes you nervous.

meanwhile he's bracing himself for impact, thinking he probably just fucked up your eight year friendship.

"say somethin please.." he mutters, his voice low. you exhale sharply before grabbing his hand. you don't know what you're about to say, your mind’s a jumble of thoughts, emotions too tangled to make sense of just yet. you’re not sure what to make of this, or if you even want to. you know katsuki, and you know how much of a burden you can be. you can't explore something that you already know won't last. especially not with him.

and then, as if the universe is offering you a sign, the first snowflake falls—delicate and perfect, followed by another, and another. the sky’s doing its part, now it’s up to you.

still holding his hand, you feel your heart beat louder in your chest. "told you snow’s magical," you whisper, your gaze locked on his. but his eyes refuse to meet yours. they dart nervously around the ground beneath him. the tension radiating from him causes his hand to feel stiff in yours. snow begins to fall more steadily, and one delicate snowflake lands on the bridge of his nose, making him flinch in surprise. you can't help the soft giggle that escapes you.

"yknow for a guy who spends every day in his diner.. you're not a bad kisser," you can't help the wide grin that displays itself on your lips at his fidgety, awkward reaction. his hand tightens around yours. "shut up asshole," he grunts, meeting your eyes finally.

"you're not just gonna.. brush past what happened are you?" you ask, trying to sound casual, but there's a note of worry in your voice, hoping he didn't just kiss you to shut you up. you study him cautiously with a tilt of your head.

you giggle again when an offended expression flashes across his face. "no!!? i thought you were gonna do that!"

you bite your lip softly, your shyness suddenly reappearing. "i think m gonna go inside.." you start, still holding his hand. "i'll see you tomorrow,"

he hums, his thumb unintentionally rubbing your soft hand. "what happened to not brushing past it?"

you grin, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. he exhales slowly, his face turning red again. you smile toothily, "it's my turn to make the next move, so you'll just haveta be patient," you tease, pulling away from him to walk back in your house.

he watches you adorably wave goodbye right before you let out a girly giggle and quietly step inside. the blond can't help the tiny smile that's forced out as he lifts his head to the snow-falling sky. and then he whispers very quietly, hoping none of his nosy neighbors see him talk to himself like an idiot,

"i want a beautiful relationship with her too."

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poisonousquinzel · 4 months ago

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if this isn't the kinda dynamic being presented then I don't want it !!!! we've progressed past them being unnecessarily cruel to the other's babies !!!!!!

sometimes a family is a plant goddess, her smitten jester and their separate distinct man eating babies !!

DC's 'Twas the Mite Before Christmas (2023-) #1

Gotham City Sirens (2024) #1

Batman: The Animated Series "Harlequinade"

they love her :')

#harley quinn #harleen quinzel #poison ivy #pamela isley #harlivy #dc comics

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wordsnstuff · 26 days ago

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Standing Water: Wordsnstuff Writing Challenge [in collaboration with RUNT magazine]

Welcome to RUNT Magazine. We are an indie print publication celebrating visual art, literature, and the distinctions that make us human. Our aim as a magazine is to cultivate a vibrant community that promotes exploration and creativity instead of stifling it.

We’ve put together these prompts to hopefully inspire you to submit to our upcoming issue with the theme of STANDING WATER [click link for more info!]. If you feel inclined to express yourself in a different media, we accept all forms of writing (fiction, non-fiction, essays, poetry, etc.), photography, art, or anything that moves you! There is no submission fee and we encourage you to submit as much as you like.

The deadline is December 31st, 2024 and we can’t wait to see what you come up with! Submit for free here!

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

Write from the perspective of a favored toy of your childhood.

If future you met present you, what would you talk about? What would you think of each other?

Your hometown has mysteriously disappeared. As you stand looking where it once stood, what memories come to mind?

You’re aging (spoiler alert). Write dual perspectives about one character who embraces that fact and one that rejects it.

You wake up in your childhood bedroom, magically a child yourself. You get to experience a Christmas as a kid again. Describe what you’ve missed about this as an adult, even down to the smells.

It’s been MANY years since you’ve stopped aging. You’ve watched friends and family pass on, never letting yourself fall in love or get attached. You spot someone that you remember from your childhood, also unchanged. Who is it? Do you say anything to them?

You’ve just discovered you were switched at birth. What do you imagine the life you could’ve had was like?

Tell a true story about your childhood. The first one that comes to mind. Maybe even the one you don’t think is even worth writing about at all.

You’ve spent decades running from the small town that labeled you a weird kid, but when you find an old yearbook and see your old self staring back at you, you realize you’ve made a nightmare of the only person who understands you. Make amends with the younger version of yourself, you were just a child.

Every morning, you sit at the same desk, doing the same work, feeling your potential slowly wither away, but you convince yourself it’s fine. What would happen if you stopped telling yourself that this is all there is?

Write the day in the life of an inanimate object that feels it is not being used to its full potential.

Write your first break up from the other person’s perspective.

Your spouse is a writer and has been incredibly secretive about their current book. It’s been published and as they’ve finally allowed you to read it, you’re slowly realizing this all sounds far too familiar.

You awake with your eyes closed, but you don’t remember falling asleep. “It wasn’t your fault,” you hear a voice say. What do you see when you open your eyes?

A once famous person reflects on their career as they slowly being to feel they are being forgotten by the public.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

Check us out on Instagram.ᐟ

Submission Link

⟢ no fee ⟢ no limit on submissions ⟢ any type of writing or art medium

RUNT Website

#writing #writing challenge #writing prompts #art magazine #literary magazine #magazine #submissions #independent magazine #independent publishing #art #photography #visual art #poetry #RUNT

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monalisahyperdrive · 23 days ago

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Primarchs and Christmas Classics - christmas songs and festive primarch/legion headcanons.

The final week of the winter semester has run me over so I'm blasting Christmas music to cope & inspire fuzzy warm feelings. This is once again entirely subjective and largely based on my (British, somewhat Catholic) own Christmas experiences. All good fun while I avoid working on these essays. I struggled with some of these so they might be a little off. ⇒ divider by @/cafekitsune

Alpharius & Omegon / Alpha Legion

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus - The Jackson 5. The most confusing Christmas possible. Don't worry, Alpharius will be home for Christmas! Several dozen of him. You get the distinct feeling that the Alpharius who sat and laughed while playing charades earlier (you lost, badly) is actually not any of the Alphariuses sat at the table for Christmas dinner... but you just can't prove it. Is Omegon there? Of course he is. Which one is he? Good question.

Angron / World Eaters

Lonely This Christmas - Mud. Attempts a quiet peaceful Christmas, fails miserably every year. His sons love him very much, in their own way. He just sort of disappears into his home over the festive period. They come find him anyway. Small groups, well spaced out. They send one or two marines with gifts from a dozen or so every few hours. They don't get invited in, he greets them at the door, often gritting his teeth from the pain. He gets his rest, but he'll never be truly lonely on Christmas. Not anymore.

Corvus Corax / Raven Guard

Santa Claus Is Coming To Town - The Jackson 5. The Raven Guard just sort of... show up to Christmas. Was there even a knock at the door? Well, they're here now. You think. You were sure you just saw Corvus but you've lost him again. The whole thing is a relatively private affair, no real coming and going... as far as you can tell. The Raven Guard present seem to dissipate some time between late afternoon on Christmas Day and the morning of Boxing day. The presents are all freakishly accurate to what was wished for. Don't worry about it.

Ferrus Manus / Iron Hands

Christmas Time (Don't Let the Bells End) - The Darkness. (subject to change) Christmas with Ferrus and the Iron Hands is a rather rudimentary affair. 'For morale', they say. Admittance of actual celebration would be an admittance of weakness. Christmas dinner is served in a mess hall, and largely differentiates itself from the typical nutrient paste with... something that might be mashed potato and the slice of what seems to be the idea of turkey... if turkey was suspiciously nutrient dense and stiff. Presents are largely ignored, as are any decorations beyond the occasional string of lights. Time off is necessary in order to maintain efficiency. They're watching Die Hard for morale. Ferrus is watching along with them... for morale. Shut up.

Fulgrim / Emperor's Children

All I Want for Christmas Is You - Mariah Carey. Of course it's Mariah. The only way it wouldn't be Mariah is if it was Jingle Bell Rock, Mean Girls style. Yes, with the outfit. The Christmas decorations have gone up early and it all matches, right down to the last detail. Think those gorgeous monochrome Christmas trees you see on Pinterest. The table all set for Christmas dinner is both the most meticulously and yet effortlessly breathtaking you've ever seen. If anyone's got festive charger plates, it's the Third. There's singing, there's dancing. There's an elaborate charcuterie board for snacking on on Christmas Eve. Good luck going five minutes without your wine/champagne/juice glass refilling while you're not looking. Matching outfits for the Christmas cards but in an incredible chic way. Probably the classic matching pyjamas approach. Perfection is a must, and Christmas is no excuse.

Horus Lupercal / Luna Wolves & Sons of Horus

Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! - Dean Martin. Cue shit eating grin, singing along, grabbing Lady Lupercal and- oh is that mistletoe up there? He hadn't even noticed. Well since you're already there... might as well? 30k Luna Wolves Horus is leaning full tilt into the Hallmark movie Christmases. The Mournival are even here for Christmas dinner and look they brought presents - isn't that cute? Post Heresy Horus (copium) is still just as meticulous with Christmas but it's a little more... off the rails. Everything is perfect, come sit down for Christmas dinner! Don't worry, he'll do the talking. All of it.

Jaghatai Khan / White Scars

Driving Home for Christmas - Chris Rea. One of the biggest and warmest Christmases, up there with the Salamanders and the Space Wolves. Everyone - and I mean absolutely everyone - is home for Christmas. Don't know anyone's names? Doesn't matter. The driveway is absolutely packed. They're parked out front all down the street, too. The living room barely fits everybody. There's not even nearly enough space for everyone to sit. It's cozy.

Konrad Curze / Night Lords

Wonderful Christmastime - Paul McCartney. Vague lyrics, nonspecific, bang on. It sure is a wonderful Christmastime, just... not what you might be thinking of. Merry Christmas from Nostramo. Please don't call. Sevatar is there. Christmas dinner is... meat, for sure. The fact there's so many Night Lords in the same place not snapping at eachother like a pack of unruly dogs is actually pretty impressive. Don't ask what the wrapping paper is made of. The first rule of Night Lord Christmas...

Leman Russ / Space Wolves

Merry Xmas Everybody - Slade. Primarily inspired by my drunken male relatives stopping everything to sing along and start dancing around the living room. Of course a Space Wolves Christmas would be boozy, it's a celebration isn't it? Feasting and drinking and laughing is the name of the game. All the presents are surprisingly thoughtful. Leman awkwardly hovers in the back while some of the presents are opened and suspiciously vanishes off into the next room with some of the wrapping paper and reemerges with presents wrapped in what he'd scavenged. After that is totally the type to sit by the youngest on the couch and be overly eager to offer his knife for them to use to get into their presents easier. Asleep the second he gets back to the couch post Christmas dinner.

Lion El'Jonson / Dark Angels

Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) - Darlene Love. A man who frankly needs to sit down over the holidays but physically cannot do it. Christmas? Stupid meaningless holiday. You're staying over though right? People are coming for dinner though right? No he's not going to decorate the tree. He's going to stare at you doing it though, and then he'll complain when he has to get up to help you place the star on the top. Acts entirely unbothered by Dark Angels showing up. Would be pacing and staring out the window all day if they didn't.

Lorgar Aurelian / Word Bearers

Mary's Boy Child / Oh My Lord - Boney M. Yeah, you're going to church for the Christmas service. But so is everyone else! And I mean, everyone else. Midnight Mass, Carol service, the whole shebang. Lorgar, however, is absolutely overjoyed! He has several Nativity sets he brings out every year. There's an angel for the top of the tree. He delights in listening to the carollers that come to the door. Has the whole family over for the holiday. Yes, including Kor Phaeron. There's no avoiding it. Picks out a new special ornament each year. Decorating the tree is a family activity that takes hours due to all the reminiscing over all the different ornaments that have been collected over the years and the story that has to be retold after they get carefully unwrapped before they can be hung on the tree. It's sweet, it just takes a while to get done.

Magnus (the Red) / Thousand Sons

I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday - Wizzard. Ah, the bane of my existence at school around Christmastime growing up. The Christmas quiz. If you don't think the Thousand Sons are having the MOST intense Christmas Quiz fighting tooth and nail (intellectually) for those points every year, you may be kidding yourself. Everyone knows exactly who won the year before. And the year before. And the year before that. Need I go on? Magnus himself writes and reads the questions, and it's Magnus who decides whether an answer gets a point or not. Christmas boardgames include Trivial Pursuit, Scrabble, and so on. Scrabble gets heated. The dictionary gets brought out. And a second if the first isn't convincing enough. Every year it's declared to be banned from Christmas. Every year it gets brought out again.

Mortarion / Death Guard

Do They Know It's Christmas? - Band Aid Before Nurgle there is no way in hell Mortarion celebrated. After being taken under Grandfather's metaphorical wing? Oh absolutely. There is nothing Nurgle would delight in more than getting the whole family together. Eat, drink, and be merry! Don't... don't worry about the food, sweetness. Even Typhus has come for dinner, isn't that sweet? Poor tired Mortarion. Best keep him looked after. Not to worry, Grandfather has it all under control!

Perturabo / Iron Warriors

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas - Perry Como, The Fontane Sisters. It's a stupid holiday. What? Of course he's celebrating this year, are you mad? Didn't seem excited for the festive season? Oh he'll show you excited. The lawn, the house, everything is absolutely plastered in decorations. Is this enough Christmas lights? No. No it's not. Hang them on that tree, too. Absolutely has the light up sleigh and reindeer on the roof with the Santa decoration climbing the chimney. Absolute chefzilla in the kitchen cooking Christmas dinner. Best turkey you've ever eaten. Don't worry about the way he'd been fiddling with the oven for the last couple days. In fact, don't even step into the kitchen. He's going to feed his stupid sons who he hates. Spends the rest of the day sat on the couch doing a jigsaw on the coffee table. Don't talk to him, just let him have this.

Roboute Guilliman / Ultramarines

Christmas Wrapping - The Waitresses. Respectfully, I don't think Guilliman - especially 40k Guilliman - would have the energy or time to be particularly festive. Any time off would be spent napping in an armchair in the corner dad style. Do NOT let this man take on any of the Christmas dinner cooking stress, but let him cut the turkey so he can still feel important and valued. He deserves a nice sit down in front of the tv and a glass of Baileys. His sons will handle the rest, and they'll do a damn good job of it, too! Seasons Greetings from Macragge, here is your festive email with an attached picture of Guilliman asleep on the couch in his sweater.

Rogal Dorn / Imperial Fists

Baby It's Cold Outside - Idina Menzel, Michael Bublé. No seriously, baby, it's cold outside, this is Inwit. Dorn's house is the safest possible place to spend Christmas anyway, fortified beyond belief. The Fists show up for Christmas. Sort of. Mostly they come and stand around awkwardly. The most active things get is when Jenga gets brought back out its box - winning is of course a point of pride. Gift favourites are of course, various iterations of building blocks.

Sanguinius / Blood Angels

A Spaceman Came Travelling - Chris de Burgh. Slightly more niche but the one that makes me think of Sanguinius the most. Christmas with the Blood Angels isn't the warmest fuzziest thing around. There's a difference between being revered and truly beloved and Sanguinius knows it like the back of his hand. It's comfortable, it's quiet. Dante is there. The Blood Angels all show up bearing presents on Christmas day. They fawn over him. He speaks to each and every one of them with a smile on his face. Eventually the knocks stop coming and the doorbell stops ringing, and he can collapse onto the couch and relax. He spends the season with his nearest and dearest. He takes a walk after Christmas dinner. He gives up Christmas day to being humble, and he lets himself be selfish on Boxing Day, with several glasses of... something red and some truly terrible Christmas movies.

Vulkan / Salamanders

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year - Andy Williams. And he damn well means it! Christmas with the Salamanders is incredible. Got nowhere to go for the holidays? Now you do. Decorating starts the second December does. The actual event starts bright and early Christmas Eve morning. Vulkan truly comes alive during the holiday - so many loved ones around! Christmas Eve is all movies and food and board games and jokes and stories by the fire. People even sleep over into Boxing Day. He greets each and every one of the people who'd attended personally, waving them off at the door with a big grin on his face. All his sons have Christmas sweaters that match his own. Expect some incredible Christmas cards in the mail with a whole host of posing Salamanders on the front. Oh well since you're all here already... you might as well stay for the New Year? Outstaying your welcome? Don't be silly.

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bimrwolf · 2 years ago

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Healing Hands by the Fire

geralt of rivia x afab!reader words: 3,684 warnings: smut !! 18+ (minors dni) ; squint and you may see a casual plot summary: Geralt visits Reader, a healer, with severe injuries. a/n: very out of my comfort zone. however, i promised my friend to write this as her christmas present because writing fanfics are my love language. good thing i know basic things about the witcher heheehe.

How did she always end up here? Months without a word or seeing him. She had accepted the peace. Only occasionally did she perk up when there was a knock on her door, secretly hoping it was him. But only one could be so lucky. Instead, it was travelers from all over the Continent who heard word of her abilities.

She couldn’t complain. Healing others in exchange for seeds, food, and sometimes money. Not that it was required for her service but she couldn’t complain about the gratuity.

In fact, she enjoyed helping others. However, it was nearing winter and there were less travelers. They were most likely home to prepare for the violent winter storms that damned the Continent.

It was one of the first snow falls of the season. She had finished feeding the chickens and her horse Atticus. That was always her nighttime routine. Feed the animals, make some tea, study until all the tea is drunk, and finally get ready for bed.

Some might think the routine would get tiring, but there was never any guarantee. It was the one consistent thing in her life at the moment. She was content.

However, some nights, she heard the enchanted chimes outside that let her know someone was approaching. But before she made it to the door, it swung open, snow flurries drifted inside. The cold was sharp and pricked her nose, making her sniffle.

In most cases she would be alarmed. There was no telling what creatures or people were harmless and which ones weren’t. She clutched the nearest thing to her— a broom that always gave her splinters when she used it.

His snow white hair peeked from under his hood and she recognized the distinct low grumble that could be mistaken as a quake. He slowly closed the door, ensuring it was locked this time. “You startled me.” She said, releasing her grip from the broom, checking her hand for any loose wood.

“You should keep the door locked. What if I was a dangerous man breaking in?” She played it off as a joke, not seeing the concerned look on his face.

“Some might say you are dangerous.” She smirked. She never expected him to react to her jokes, but she could feel the warmth blanket around her when his shoulders relaxed. “Are you going to stand there all night?”

He limped further into the cabin. She could see the snow melting on his cloak, dripping on her floor. “You made a mess,” she huffed.

His head lifted and cat-like eyes met hers. It was known his abilities and job forced him to lack showing how he felt. But, she noticed right away how his eyes drooped that he was in pain.

She ran towards him, immediately untying his cloak so that it dropped to the floor. She gasped at the large claw marks scratched into his chest. He could withstand most injuries but the cuts had broken past the many layers of skin.

“Fuck, Geralt. What happened?” Her finger ghosted over the wound on his shoulder. Almost immediately he grabbed her wrist. But she didn’t pull away.

“I’m starving.” He took a moment to look her up and down before letting go of her wrist and walking past her.

Unbelievable. She scoffed and followed him into her den. “Are you serious? Geralt, you’re hurt and need to be healed before you get an infection.”

“I smell meat pie. Do you have any to spare?” He left no time for her to answer. He grabbed the plate on a table and began to shove them in his mouth. He groaned in satisfaction.

She wanted to be annoyed, but she had never seen him act this way. So instead she watched as he stuffed his face. He sat down slowly in a wooden chair. His large body mass made it creak, rocking it with the sound of the crackling fire. His spastic breathing mellowed out into a deep sigh.

He was definitely hurting from his wound but there was something else. She could sense that something was bothering him. Yet, she didn’t pry for an explanation. Instead, she let him watch the fire as she gathered her supplies of elixirs and jars. Then she picked up the pot full of water hanging above the fire and poured it into a bowl. The steam warmed her face that was still cold from earlier.

“Are you still hungry? I think I only have bread.” She sat her things on the table next to him, but not looking in his direction. However, she could feel his piercing eyes watching her every single move. “If you’re not feeling like bread I can stay up and make you soup.”

His hand flew to her wrist. She jumped, nearly knocking over a bottle with green shiny liquid. She turned her head slightly, sighing deeply. “It hurts,” Geralt mumbled.

His wound was red, inflamed, and looked worse in the light. And if Geralt says it hurts then it was worse than she had imagined. “Take your tunic off while I prepare.” Although it was her giving the instruction, she couldn’t help the heat on her cheeks arise. Especially when he did what he was told. She had only seen his bare chest a handful of times, but each time made her stomach knot up.

He took a heavy breath as he settled back into the chair, wincing when she placed a hot cloth on his open wound. His nails dug into the chair. His teeth clenched as he threw his head back. She couldn’t help but giggle. In return, he snapped his head to look at her, visibly annoyed. “What?”

She swatted him for the rash reaction. “No need to be hot headed, Geralt. I was only laughing because I’ve never seen you act so dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic,” he argued. He winced again when the cloth touched his skin once more. He rolled his eyes when he noticed the smirk she tried to hide from him, her hair covered her face. Not thinking, he took his finger and pushed it out of the way so he could see her more clearly.

She tried to ignore the knot in her stomach or how her chest was breathing differently. She even tried to look away subtly but the only thing she could look at without being suspicious was his bare chest. “How’s Yennefer?”

The change of subject was almost as if she had poured salt into his fresh wounds. He yanked his hand away and turned his head to face the fire, jaw ticked. She should’ve felt guilty for bringing up his on and off lover. Instead, she felt relieved his attention was no longer on her and probably wouldn’t be the rest of the night.

That’s how it always went. He would get too close and right before she fell under his spell she would mention the other woman. She had only met the sorceress once. They neither liked or disliked one another. Yet, she could tell there would not be any attempts to go frollicking in a field like they were the best of friends.

In some ways, she had been jealous of Yennefer– she was interesting and traveled the Continent and had fought in many wars. She was beautiful and cunning. Of course Geralt would pick her as a lover.

“Ow.” Geralt grimaced, shifting in the chair. Her fingers were touching the wounds, and spreading them apart. “Are you about done? I’m tired.”

She continued to inspect his wounds closely, having to push between his legs to get a closer look. “I have to ensure there are no severe damages so I know what to make.” His huff made her roll her eyes. She wanted to swat him for still acting like a child. “Whatever got you, got you good, eh?”

He looked away then back at her, swallowing. “Yes, I suppose.”

There was a beat of silence. Only the fire was popping.

“I thought I was goin’ to die.” He said out loud in a low whisper. Almost like he didn’t want her to hear him.

She stopped briefly to look up at him. He was serious. “Well, fortunately whatever it was missed your heart by a hair.” She pointed to where his heart was and traced a line to the start of one of the scratches only millimeters away. She got up, leaving him with a witty smile as she started to pour the many different potions into a different bowl.

“Me and Yennefer haven’t spoken in months,” he admitted.

It was hard not to react, but she had never seen him willingly talk about the woman before. “Oh.”

“We wanted different things I suppose,” he continued. “If it weren’t for Ciri’s letters, then I wouldn’t even know if she was still alive.”

“You miss her?” It was meant to sound like a question, but it came across as a statement.

He looked down at his hands, ashamed. “I’m not sure if I’m allowed to miss someone.”

“Are you not allowed or are you unsure you know what it’s supposed to feel like?”

He didn’t answer.

She walked back and found her place again between his legs. “Missing someone feels like always looking at the door when there’s a knock, and your heart skips a beat, hoping it’s them.” She dipped her finger in the cream she had made and started to apply it to the open wound.

“I don’t live in a cottage with a door.” His hands creeped to his thighs so they brushed her as she moved.

She finished with the first cut and moved onto the second, which was much deeper and longer. “Well, missing someone can also feel like wanting to cry even when you’re happy.”

“You do know I have emotions?” He quizzed her.

She smirked. “Of course I do. I was only trying to help you figure out if you miss Yennefer.”

He hummed, running a finger over the first wound she had treated which was starting to already heal. His skin attaching itself together again. “I miss her, but not in the way you think I do.”

“Then in what way?” She raised her brow, clearly confused as to what he meant.

He didn’t answer her right away. “Not in the way I miss you.”

The bowl in her hand nearly clattered to the floor. She froze, replaying the words over and over as if she hadn’t heard him. Did Geralt really admit to missing her? No, he doesn’t actually mean it. He was messing with her. “That’s not funny.” Her breath was shaky. In fact, her hands were shaky too as she tried to continue healing him.

“Did I make a joke?” His tone was unwavering. He placed his hand on her warm cheek, brushing his thumb over her soft flesh. He had never touched her so intimately like he was now.

She shook her head, using her free hand to brush him away, focusing on the rest of his injuries. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re delusional.”

“I thought your potions helped with that?”

Her eyes flickered up to meet his, briefly, before averting them back to the bowl. She swooped the last of the cream on her finger and spread it slowly over the last scratch. The others had closed up but one could make out the red scar. “Those will go away in due time,” she mumbled.

As she tried to get up he caught her arm, standing up with her, and in doing so their chests were against one another. He could feel her heavy breathing. And she could feel the warmth from his body electrifying hers.

“I should go make your bed. You need to rest.” She tried to walk away but his grip never left her arm. “Geralt.”

He took the bowl from her hands and placed it back on the table. “How much longer will you deny it?”

She swallowed the gasp that had almost escaped her, shaking her head. “What do you mean?” Finally, she had pulled away but made no efforts to leave the room, only stepping back to make space between them. And of course he could probably read her like an open book while she only had his stoic expressions to decipher. He opened his mouth, but closed it, sighing loudly. “Thank you, Y/n.”

Her face softened.

“I don’t… I don’t know what I would’ve done if it weren’t for you. In fact, I don’t know what I would do without you.” His jaw slacked, watching her intensely.

She could feel the pull, like a magnet, all too familiar when it came to Geralt. Normally, she had to ignore it. But at that moment, it felt like a boiling pot of water, steaming and bubbling, unable to contain itself. And as she looked into his piercing eyes, the knot in her stomach told her it was time to say something. “Geralt.” Her voice was above a whisper. “I have something to tell you.”

“Yes?” His expression never faltered.

She shifted her feet, uncomfortable. “I… I um… I’m making oat porridge in the morning.” She had decided it was best to hold back what she really wanted to say. “I’ll go prepare your room.”

His yellow eyes narrowed, searching for hers. She knew he was watching the emotions swirl through her mind. She knew that he knew that wasn’t what she really wanted to say to him. “No.” He was assertive and the growled vibrations dragged along her back like a dagger, giving her chills.

Ignoring the goosebumps along her arms, she ran her hand over her face. “What do you want me to say?” She felt like a twig that had snapped. “Why are you being mean? You stand there forcing a confession out of me. A confession you will never get because there’s nothing to say.” Her tears burned in the corner of her eyes. She hated how foolish she looked in front of him. Crying and blubbering because he decided to dig deeper.

They had a routine. He would knock on the door and she would heal his wounds. Their deep conversations were rare, and sometimes he wouldn’t speak at all. Sometimes he would leave in the morning without a word. So why must this time be any different than the others?

“You’re angry.”

She scoffed. “Yes, I’m angry.” Unable to face him, she turned to look at the fireplace, shaking her head. “That’s the most frustrating part of all of this. I’m angry that you’re here. I’m angry that I don’t see you for months with no word if you’re even alive. I’m angry that you show up when I’m missing you the most.” Her eyes caught his, her nostrils flared. She had had enough of it, storming up to him and putting a finger against his bare chest. “I’m angry that you sit there and touch me and talk to me like we’re lovers. I’m angry that you won’t go to someone else for help. Because I can’t do it anymore, Geralt. I can’t do it.”

And there it was. Years worth of bubbling water, spilling over the pot and all over the floor. She had made a mess that she wasn’t sure if she would be able to clean up.

Geralt’s jaw ticked, his eyes scanning her face. “You wish to not see me anymore? Would that be easier?”

Her finger fell slowly from his chest. Her voice trembled. “It’s easier than caring about you.”

Geralt brought his hand up slowly to her cheek, brushing his knuckle against a tear. “I am angry at you too,” he whispered. Her brows furrowed, unsure what he meant. “I told you I have feelings too. Yet, you assume I don’t. You assume I don’t care about you either.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Do you?”

“Why do you think I keep coming back?” His jaw slacked.

The tension between them was thick and palpable. She wasn’t sure what else there was to say. Her heart was torn. Even with the confession, there was no guarantee. He was a Witcher with responsibilities that were not suitable for the life she wanted. She pushed it away, cracking a smile. “Are you saying that you got injured on purpose? So you could see me?”

“Perhaps.” The corner of his mouth flickered, leaning his head down towards her.

“You could’ve died.” She stepped closer to him, tracing her finger of his scars, looking at his lips.

“But I didn’t.” He said against her mouth, finally closing the gap between them.

He wrapped his arms around her, strong and sure, deepening the kiss. It was gentle but fierce, full of longing and tension that had been built up along the years. It tasted like all the warm tea she had made for him over time.

When she moaned, Geralt took the opportunity to slip his tongue in her mouth, gliding it tenderly and carefully against hers, groaning in satisfaction. He somehow managed to pull her closer as if their bodies weren’t already meshed together.

It was her who broke away first, both of them gasping for air, chests heaving from the heavy kiss. Geralt’s eyes had turned black, his senses heightened, craving more.

Without a word, she unbuttoned her blouse, freeing her chest as she dropped it to the floor. She kissed Geralt again on the mouth, his neck, and then his chest. She whispered in his ear, “I think I should go prepare your room now.”

He nodded, allowing her to take his hand to lead him to her room, rather than the room up in the attic that her guests normally stayed in. It was full of knick knacks and books scattered. Her bed was unmade, but neither one of them cared.

She pushed him on the bed, straddling his lap, peppering kisses all over his chest. If she was smart, she would savor all of it– every kiss and touch. But fuck all of it. She had waited too long to savor it. She grinded herself against his hardness, smiling against his ear when she felt him jump through his trousers. Something had told her it was too long for him too.

The rest of their clothes had found a new place on the floor of her bedroom. She was now laying down, Geralt hovered over her, his chain dangled over her face, and his hands roamed over her bare body as she whimpered under his touch. His lips attacked her neck, trailing down her body, relishing every inch.

“Geralt,” she mewled.

She felt the vibrations of his chuckle, revitalizing her, the warmth between her legs now ached. “Yes?” He came back towards her mouth, placing a life-wrecking kiss on it.

She nibbled his bottom lip. “You know.”

“Mm, I don’t think I do,” he teased. His hand was between her legs, fingers gliding, taunting her.

She thrusted her hips upwards, forcing friction against her swollen clit, gasping when he slid a finger in her. “I need you.”

The pitiful look in her eyes convinced him enough to give her what she wanted. And because any longer, he felt like he would combust. Geralt pushed her legs apart and then guided his girthy length to her entrance, sliding it in slowly.

She gasped as he sunk deeper inside her, finally able to marvel all of her. It was sweet like the honey she snuck in his tea. Rich like the pastries she packed in his knapsack whenever he left in the mornings, without saying goodbye because he was afraid he would never leave if he saw her golden smile in the mornings. Yet, he wasn’t strong enough to never come back.

At first, his thrusts were slow and tender, slipping so deep that his tip reached as far as it could. She gripped his shoulders, nails forming crescents, back arching as he picked up the pace. She wanted to hug him with her thighs, but his hands were sure to keep them open and spread for him.

The sounds of their sticky skin crashing together blended with their moans and grunts, forming a delectable melody. She pulled him into an open-mouth sloppy kiss, humming. The bed rattled beneath them, his pace was dangerously close to cracking the frame.

In a swift move, he pulled her up, so that she was straddling him. Their bare chests flushed together, her face in the crook of his neck, whimpering as she bounced on his cock. “I’m… fuck,” she breathed, unable to make the words as it hit her sweet spot.

“Me too.” He slightly pushed her shoulders back, wanting to see her. His palm cradled her face, swallowing the thickness stuck in his throat. He knew he looked destroyed. He didn’t show how he felt often, but the pent up tension over the year had finally arisen.

“G…Geralt!” She shouted as her walls closed around him, releasing her orgasm around him, resting her forehead on his chest as he continued to move her up and down. She clutched onto him as if she was about to float away.

He threw his head back as his cock twitched, finishing, He thrusted through his climax, panting as he slowed to a halt. His senses were still high and could hear the fire still crackling in the den. He could feel her breathing still rugged and hot, sticking to his chest.

She couldn’t see it but Geralt let a small smile briefly appear as he stroked her bare back. He placed a kiss on the top of her head. She looked up at him, running her fingers through his snow-white hair. “Will you stay one more night?”

He tilted his head, brows knitted together. “Are you still angry with me?”

A mischievous glimmer crossed her eyes. “If I am, does that mean you’ll stay?”

He snickered, placing a peck on her lips, lingering, scared if he were to break away she’d disappear.

Angry or not, he was going to stay one more night.

#geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #geralt smut #geralt x reader smut #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher smut #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #the witcher fic #blaize writes #geralt of rivia imagine #the witcher imagine

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intothedysphoria · 2 months ago

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“Don’t like it”

Those were the words that permeated Steve’s brain daily, watching his boyfriend eye a mug full of coffee with distinct suspicion.

Steve was dating a coffee snob. He really should have expected it considering Billy was fussy about a lot of things. Movies, clothes, the exact temperature of a room.

He’d accept pretty much anything but he wouldn’t be happy with it. Coffee was just the latest subject of Billy’s disapproval.

Steve had long suspected that it was because Billy secretly preferred tea. He was always brushing his fingers over the brands he’d brought over from Ireland, saving them for special occasions.

But he’d never admit it. So Steve was stuck watching Billy complaining that the coffee he had was never quite right, drinking it down in 10 seconds but then grimacing.

One day, Steve had an idea.

Billy was out, working on a vintage car. Even when Steve was on the third floor flat and Billy was in the basement next door, he could feel the thrum of heavy metal in his bones.

There was a tin of hot cocoa lying in front of him, untouched. It was special too, flavoured with vanilla. It had been a birthday present from Robin that Steve hadn’t yet used.

Billy loved vanilla.

It was fun, piling steaming cocoa into two mugs, then topping it with cream. The day had been long and cold and Steve was already wrapped in his favourite yellow sweater.

A grumbling storm of blonde hair and light blue denim stormed into the apartment in the following minutes. He immediately started complaining about the cold so Steve thrust a mug at him.

“The fuck is this”

Steve merely gestured to try it, which Billy did.

His eyes immediately lit up like a Christmas tree. The white of the cream and brown of the cocoa changed the colour of his moustache completely and Billy was positively dizzy.

He kissed Steve and Steve tasted chocolate on his tongue.

Billy Hargrove was a hot chocolate guy. Who knew.

@shieldofiron @dragonflylady77 @oopsiedaisiesbaby @harringroveobsessed @thatgirlwithasquid and anyone who needs a distraction rn

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #this is just some mindless fluff for every harringrover #but particularly those who live in the US

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wolfpants · 20 days ago

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A wee advent/yule gift for @tackytigerfic - Tacky! I hope you enjoy this soft, moody little present I made for you. Thank you for being wonderful. 🌟

All Is Calm, All Is Bright | E, 6.6k

Tags: EWE, angst and feels, infidelity, minor Draco/Ernie, Christmas markets, drinking & talking, menswear, photographer Harry, Ministry employee Draco, oral sex, anal sex, brief mention of using the services of a sex worker

Draco is leaving his husband. He needs Harry to be the first to know.

He drives east, in the opposite direction of both of their homes, and turns onto the Embankment, following the steady, buzzing flow of nighttime traffic. The entire time, he feels Draco’s eyes on him, and when Harry allows himself to look back, he catches the glitter of Christmas lights reflecting in the pale sheen of Draco’s skin, his hair. Something warm and achy and just a bit shameful tugs deep at the centre of Harry’s chest. It’s a feeling he’s used to, a feeling that has become easier to push down as the years stretch on between them. Occasionally, it’ll rear its awful head, usually during passing, quiet moments that take Harry off guard: when Draco looks particularly good in a waistcoat, when he makes a distinctively biting observation, when he laughs too generously at one of Harry’s stupid jokes but then follows it up by calling him a silly twat. Sometimes, it’s simply when Draco looks at him—just like that.

thank you so much to my little elves/betas: @hoko-onchi-writes@citrusses@maesterchill you're all absolute darlings

read all is calm, all is bright on ao3

#let's ignore the hilarious typo I made on the fucking banner in my original post christ #I am SO sorry tacky lmao #a sprinkle of christmas spice!#drarry #drarry fic #draco/harry #harry/draco #draco x harry #harry x draco #harry potter #draco malfoy #hp fanfiction #hp slash #wolf's christmas fics

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jamdoughnutmagician · 26 days ago

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A Very Merry Munson Christmas (Fluff)

@littlexdeaths shared some festive prompts for the twelve days of promptmas and I really wanted to try and write at least a few short fics for some of the prompts.

Day 1:Snowed in/Caught in a blizzard.

When a snow storm sweeps across Hawkins, and your plans to fly out to visit your family for the holidays are thrown out of the window, Eddie does his best to bring his family to you.

Word Count:835

Masterlist // Eddie Munson Masterlist

*divider by @strangergraphics

“I just don't want to upset your parents babe, I mean, this is the first Christmas we're spending together and we were supposed to be staying with your family!”

It's true, you had made plans that this year you would be flying out of Indiana with Eddie to be with your parents for the holidays. It would be the first time that you were going to introduce Eddie to your parents. Of course, they already knew about him, given how much you talk about him whenever you're on the phone to them. But this was going to be the first time they had met him.

Or at least it would have been.

“Eddie, there is a blizzard sweeping through Indiana and the rest of the midwest right now. There are no flights. The only way we're getting out of Hawkins is if Santa flies us there on his sleigh.”

“But your parents are going to-” he starts, already worrying about what your parents are going to think of him.

“-But nothing. I’ll call them and I’ll tell them everything. We can speak to them together. They’ll understand, I promise.”

“But-” he tries again, but you’re quick to silence his worries with a soft kiss pressed to his lips.

“Eddie, stop worrying, and who knows! We might be able to reschedule it and fly out to see them on new year's!”

Sure enough Christmas day rolled around, and despite knowing you weren't going to be able to see your parents for Christmas this year, calling them just wasn't the same. Sure, they were so completely warm and understanding, and reassured you that if the weather held out, you and Eddie were more than welcome to stay over new year's, but it didn't stop you from missing them.

You rolled over in bed to find Eddie’s side of the bed empty. Touching your hand to the empty space where you expect to find your boyfriend, you're met with the cold press of the mattress.

Just as you're about to sit up in the bed, the bedroom door swings open, and Eddie, dressed in a soft grey tank-top and red plaid pyjama bottoms, his wild hair pulled back into a little bun at the nape of his neck with a few soft strands falling down around his face, steps into the bedroom holding two steaming mugs.

He hands one of the mugs off to you as he places a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.” he says with a lazy smile pulling at his pink lips.

“Merry Christmas to you too, Eds.”

“Drink up that coffee and come with me to the living room, we’ve got presents to open!” he smiles with that happily wild smile.

You let him lead you through to the living room, where the rainbow fairy lights illuminate the room in a soft colourful glow, and the tree in the corner of the room stands proudly, adorned with your’s and Eddie’s combined collection of unique Christmas tree ornaments. The scattering of a few presents sat underneath the tree, ready for you and Eddie to exchange them between yourselves.

You reach underneath the tree to give Eddie one of his carefully wrapped presents, but he lays a soft touch to your arm, as if asking you to wait for just a moment.

Looking down at his watch on his wrist quickly before his eyes flick over to the front door.

And then as if perfectly choreographed there’s three distinct knocks to the front door.

“You should probably answer that.” Eddie says, giving you a soft smile.

You go to answer the door, and immediately you are met with the weathered, yet kind expression of Eddie’s Uncle Wayne.

Wayne was someone who you felt an immediate kinship with when Eddie had introduced you to him, something about his hard on the outside, yet soft on the inside demeanour reminded you very much of your own father, and when he saw how much Eddie loved you, and you loved Eddie, it seemed only right to welcome you into his life with open arms.

“Ed told me you were missing your family this Christmas, and whilst I may not be your family, you’re in my boy’s life and you make him happier than I’ve ever known him, and I’ll be damned if I let you be sad on Christmas day, missy.” and although he wasn’t know for his physical affections, he wasted no time in giving you a warm hug.

“I couldn't take you to your family, but what I can do is bring my family to you.” Eddie smiles brightly, happy to have two of his favourite people surrounding him this Christmas.

“Come on in, we were just about to start opening presents, and there’s real a big one right here with your name on it, Mr. Munson.”

It may not have been the Christmas you had planned, but it ended up being the one of the best Christmases you could ever have hoped for.

@penguinsandpotterheads @abitchyouhate @mrsjellymunson

@userchai @rebelfell @ali-r3n @eddiesxangel @seatnights

#thetwelvedaysofpromptmas #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson fluff

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omicronmysteryhour · 4 days ago

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This Christmas we give you the gift of Omicron Mystery Hour 2.

The legally distinct and never before heard Omicron Mystery Hour 2, which you may know as “the only radio show: the sequel” presents Omicron: Omicron Harder, a show where we celebrate the birth of our Lord through the genre of “Christmas Bummers.”

Seasons Greasons from Omicron Mystery Hour 2. Listen now for an eclectic mix of weird and obscure christmas music, brought to you by your jolliest radio hosts… 2!

You can find the episode HERE OR you can check out our backlog and listen to pretty much everything we’ve ever recorded (give or take a few episodes) HERE

#omicron mystery hour #omh2 #hope everyone has a wonderful holiday - Roz

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cxffecoupx · 4 days ago

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dear santa

lee seokmin + jokingly going up to the santas at the mall and embarrassing the other one wc: 645 warnings: written in a rush to finish the series, seokmin being painfully embarassing author's notes: I'm so sorry I keep posting such mediocre stuff i really don't wish to😭😭 also this should preferably be read before chan's drabble 'wrapping errors'. but I hope you like it <3 winter wonderland masterlist

"i think the store over there has some good gifts," you point towards the store with one hand to seokmin around who you've wrapped your other hand.

seokmin's still in awe over all the christmas decorations done in the mall when you look at him. red sparkling decor hangs from the high roof, glistening when light hits it at particular angles; lights arranged in the figures of reindeers and pandas; arches made of green leaves, with stars dangling at points; santas standing at various places in the mall, talking and playing with the kids that have come to the shopping center.

christmas is in full swing here.

however, you're falling behind because the two of you have spent days procrastinating and postponing buying the gifts for people you're meeting on christmas. like every year, all of you are meeting at seungcheol's place for the big bash he throws regularly, and for you, staying away from your family, they have become a second family to you.

you head over to the shop and look around for a while, contemplating whether to buy the most beautiful things you see there, even though they're basically useless to anyone. you manage to purchase a few presents, and when you're leaving, you notice that seokmin is nowhere to be found.

hands full of bags and gifts, you exit the store, mind wandering just like your eyes trying to spot him in the crowd. couples and families thronged the place, kids walking around with balloons and candies possibly gifted by the santas.

how the hell were you gonna find him?

the thought didn't stay for long when you hear his voice from somewhere, "yn!!"

"minnie?" when you look over though, you instantly wish that you hadn't.

there he stood, a few feet away from you, wearing an exact same white beard like the santa standing near him. the prop looked odd with the rest of his clothes, and his pose suggested that he was clearly losing some marbles. even the santa nearby seemed to ignore the embarassing creature standing near him.

you'd always had the fantasy of him role-playing as santa during sex, especially around xmas, but if this is what it's gonna be, you'd rather take up chastity. seriously.

"yn! wait why are you walking away- YN, c'mere. this is so fun," seokmin calls out to you again, this time louder, and the people nearby follow his gaze to see a shy you, face the colour of a ripe tomato. you could only wish that the ground would swallow you up.

and if all this wasn't enough, your boyfriend decides to laugh in an obnoxious manner, a distinct 'ho ho ho' echoing through the mall even in the chatter of the crowd.

that's when the mall starts playing one of your favourite songs, a song he'd start singing whenever, wherever you were. when you turn around to look at him, you see him already watching you, eyes searching yours for the silent message that comes with the song.

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can't help falling in love with you?

you walk over to him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before taking his extended hand to pull him away from the crowd. you return the beard to the santa with an awkwardness you're sure he understands as well, and return to seokmin, who's now decided to entertain a few kids who'd thought he was santa indeed, and the sight melts away any urgency you'd felt. it replaces with a warm and cosy feeling that slowly settles in your tummy.

"the kids loved me; i make a pretty good santa, don't i?" he asks when he sees you near him.

"i don't know about santa, but you'd make a pretty good dad. now let's get home quick now, we have to wrap the gifts."

prompt by @novelbear; dividers by @adornedwithlight

#svt #seventeen #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen × reader #svt scenarios #seventeen dk #svt dk #dokyeom #lee seokmin #seokmin #dokyeom × reader #dk x reader #dk fluff #dokyeom fluff #articles.ris

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