#Fic: For New Auld Lang Syne

[playitagainmyjohnny]

uh hi  * waves * .  i know i don’t really uh .  talk much .  here .  but well !  it’s the end of the year and that felt like cause for .  idk .  whatever it is i’m attempting here lol .  so anyway .  the year is ending !  the year is ending .  i started this blog back in november of 2021 and then in 2022 i got far cry 5 .  on march 1st, by pure chance, i posted a set .  and then i thought huh, that was the first of the month, might as well try for a set on the 2nd, and yeah sure why not make one for the 3rd too .  at some point i realized that march was fc5′s release anniversary and that just seemed too perfect to waste so i decided fuck it, i’ll do a new fc5 set every day for the month, to celebrate its release, and then .  well tbh i had no idea what i was gonna do after march ended really lmao .  i guess i didn’t really have any plans for after that, not that i was going to quit posting or anything, just that i had no idea if i was going to stick to the whole new-post-a-day thing i had going on or scale back but well, here i am .  i’ve managed to somehow make a new post every single day since march 1st and decided to aim for a year of new sets ( so i have about 2 more months to go i think ) but after that ?  * shrugs *  fuck if i know .  again lmao .  maybe i’ll just see how long i can keep going making a post a day until i give up, forget, this site dies, or .  whatever the fuck else happens i guess !     but i want to say to everyone that’s been here, no matter how long : thank you .  really and truly, from the bottom of my heart : thank you .  i never really thought i’d garner much attention at all for my shots, so to have any number of people here is really amazing, let alone the number i’ve somehow reached .  i read every single tag and comment i get on my photos, multiple times, and all of the sweet and kind words i’ve received have done so, so much for me .  i feel like my words really can’t express the entirety of it, but please know that i read every word .  i appreciate every word .  part of why i’ve stuck at this so long is because of those kind words, because of knowing i’m bringing other people joy with what i’m doing .  and please know too that you also bring me so much joy !!  every note, every kind tag, every interaction ... i treasure all of it .  * falls over * i’m really excited to keep shooting more in 2023 !  i got a few new games this past year, and i’ve had a wonderful time taking pictures in them, as well as just playing them in general .  hopefully i can pick up some fun things in 2023 as well and take even more shots !!  

anyway anyway .  i think that’s about all i have to say ( i’ve rambled on enough as is lol ) .  so i’ll end with a final thank you for being here !  i love you .  and happy new year  🖤

[zepskies]

Love Actually || Series Masterlist

Paring: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader

Summary: Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system. At least, you hope you can, before he meets the rest of your dysfunctional family on Christmas Day.

AN: I thought it was finally time I created a masterlist for Love Actually, since it became a mini series of its own within the Break Me Down-verse! Originally, it was just meant to be a one-shot, but I wrote the second and third parts when people requested seeing Ben interact with his girlfriend's family! 😂 That said, I hope you enjoy this little Christmas series, whether you're revisiting, or if you're new here! ❤️💚

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Romance, smut, and tinges of angst, but mostly a lot of romantic fluff and family feels.

Chapters:

Part 1: Humbug

Part 2: Season's Greetings

Part 3: Auld Lang Syne

 Series Complete!

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@nancymcl @emily-winchester @sl33pylilbunny @chernayawidow @spnfamily-j2

@lacilou @mimaria420 @yvonneeeee @my-stories-vault @iprobablyshipit91

@jacklesbrainworms @adoringanakin @deanwanddamons @globetrotter28 @mrsjenniferwinchester

@deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70

@rizlowwritessortof @chevroletdean @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303

@123passwort @lyarr24 @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas

@jessjad @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2 @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

@deansbbyx @midnightmadwoman @ladysparkles78 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @tmb510

@sarahgracej @foxyjwls007 @just-levyy @roseblue373 @charmed-asylum

@mrlonelycat @kmc1989 @siampie @kaleldobrev @pieandmonsters

@alwaystiredandconfused @mostlymarvelgirl @twinkleinadiamondsky @winchestergirl2 @a-lil-pr1ncess

@winchester-whiskey @spnbabe67 @cheynovak @megara0224 @yoongi-holland

@illicithallways @perpetualabsurdity @deansimpala @impala-dreamer @k4marina

@atenea585 @kayleighwinchester @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @star-yawnznn

@number1whorehome @g0ldfishd00dles @10ava01 @sixxteenbullets @tayl0rfanatic

@everything-is-all-clear @suckitands33 @cookiechipdough @trashmoutth @riteofpassage77

@jc-winchester @mxltifxnd0m @bleuatlas @luci-in-trenchcoats @valerinapetrova

@thebiggerbear @spnaquakindgdom @podiumackles @ladykitana90

[bluejayblueskies]

auld lang syne | theinkwell33

[Image descriptions in alt text]

For the 2024 Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day event held by the @renegadeguild Discord server, I bound @splitting-infinities Malevolent fic auld lang syne, an AU where John is a cordyceps fungus that hops from host to host, consuming their hearts, and jumps to Arthur who no longer has a heart and gets stuck. It's a wonderful story about self-discovery, family, and what makes us human, and I highly recommend it! It was a pleasure to bind 💜

For this bind, I decided to go with a simple and elegant two-color design, focusing on black and gold as those are colors commonly associated with John. The cover is black bookcloth with a strip of gold bookcloth in the middle, and the title and cover design is painted on with black paint. I knew from the beginning that I wanted to do a design that also centered around graphics of cordyceps mushrooms, and I found a set of three images that worked perfectly! And of course, continuing my adventures in trimming and painting edges with some black book edges here. I tried a new press for trimming this time that I'm not 100% sold on, but I think if I got some clamps to secure the press to a table or desk so it doesn't slide around, it'll work out quite well in the future!

[jaystephevents]

JaySteph Winter Solstice

December 21, 2024

Happy fall, JaySteph Nation!

As we celebrate Spooky Season, it’s time to start thinking about our next JaySteph Event - JaySteph Winter Solstice! This is a one-day event with prompts encompassing winter and all December holidays. BUT, your work doesn’t have to be specifically about winter or a holiday as long as it fits the prompt!!

Our prompts this year are SONG TITLES - whatever title you pick is the TITLE OF YOUR FIC or ART! You just need to craft your work to fit the title - even if, as we said, it doesn’t relate specifically to a holiday.

For example, we picked One Love as our Kwanzaa song prompt to represent the first principle of Umoja (Unity), but your work doesn’t have to be about Kwanzaa if you don’t want.

Deck the Halls could be about a literal crime busting fight! What Child is This? Do I hear accidental baby acquisition, anyone? Or kid fic? Deaging? Silent Night = horror fic? Stakeout ? Hiding together in a closet from baddies?

The Longest Night of the Year is our Winter Solstice song prompt, but maybe the night just FEELS long because ….. ??? They’re stuck at a gala? Jason’s bleeding out and Steph doesn’t know if he’s gonna make it? It’s up to you!

Please reblog to help spread the word!

Read more for all the Event nitty gritty and text version of prompts.

As always, your work must be brand new and JaySteph-centric. Your JaySteph can be platonic, romantic, or NSFW, but their relationship with each other should be the central focus of the fic. We don’t allow JaySteph-poly ships so we can keep the focus solely on JaySteph, but side poly ships are fine. Or, if they’re dating other people and it’s a platonic JaySteph fic, that’s fine too, as long as the main focus of the fic is the JaySteph platonic relationship.

This is a ship-friendly, censorship-free event open to all. Tags will be added to event reblogs for #Batship and #Dark so people can filter those works out if needed. We want this event to be accessible to everyone, regardless of triggers.

Send us an Ask with any questions!

❤️💜Text-version of Prompts💜❤️

One Love

Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel

The Longest Night of the Year

Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!

What Child is This?

Silent Night

Deck the Halls

Ding Dong Merrily On High

Santa Baby

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch

Blue Christmas

All I Want for Christmas is You

What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?

Auld Lang Syne

Please reblog to help spread the word!!

@jaysteph-server @fuckyeahjaysteph @dc-fandom-events

Thanks so much to @skylarkblue for our awesome event banner and prompts graphic!!

[insert-witty-user-name-here]

Lokius Fic Recs

Less than 10K words, Season Two Edition

Admittedly, I am very behind reading all the fabulous fics that came out after season 2 so I’m sure I’ve missed some gems. Nonetheless, sharing a few of my favorite post-season two Lokius fics, less than 10K words.

See my less than 10K season one Lokius fic recs here. And Lokius multi-chapter fics here.

If you’re looking for…

Angst with a hopeful ending (aka post S2 reunions or near reunions)

Come back. even as a shadow, even as a dream. by harleygirl2648- Loki and Mobius, steal what moments they can together following the events of season two and eventually find a way to make it permanent.

time will pass, darling (but my feelings, they won’t) by burnthatbridge- Another! Loki and Mobius steal what moments they can together following the events of season two and eventually find a way to make it permanent. (Okay this one is just over 15K words).

Serendipitous by emilieee- Mobius dreams of all of the moments over the centuries that he had forgotten. Meanwhile, Loki tries to find his way back to Mobius.

auld lang syne by Mirilya- Mobius experiences the first New Year's Eve that he can remember… and finds something worth celebrating.

Purpose Shared by tishae- Loki hears Mobius across the timelines and finds his way back.

Dream of me by Tears_and_smiles- (explicit) Mobius falls asleep in his motel bed and disappears into his dreams to find Loki. When he gets there, they share a night of pleasure.

with, no withouts by dinosuns- Sylvie and Mobius deal with the aftermath of Loki’s decision and begin to make a plan to get him back. (I remain delusional/hopeful that this fic will be finished. Regardless, the first chapter is spectacular on its own).

Their Burden to Bear by PerpetualDaydream- listed as Sylkius but vague to ship whoever you like. Focused on Mobius and Sylvie finding Loki and deciding to save the multiverse together.

Tell Me Some Things Last by Tears_and_smiles- Sylvie and Mobius work through the aftermath of Loki’s decision. Lots of healing vibes (and Sylvie and Mobius friendship my BELOVED).

Angst with little comfort, but beautiful:

Off The Beaten Path by ChaosAndOrder- Mobius deals with the aftermath of Loki's choice and makes one of his own. No reunions here but a gorgeous character introspective with a hopeful ending.

After They Left by ebeatrice- told from an OC POV, a TVA agent reflects on how much quieter the TVA is now after they take over Mobius’ old desk.

Centuries by TheVulcanBobDylan- (explicit) Throughout the centuries, Loki seeks comfort in the arms of different Mobius variants.

I know what I want by beandogger- (explicit) During one of his timeslips, Loki shares one more moment with Mobius before facing his fate.

Season two finale canon divergent fix its:

Let Us In by DewdropReader- How it should have ended IMO. Loki is convinced that the only way to save everyone he loves is to carry the burden of the multiverse. Sylvie and Mobius aren’t willing to allow it. What if instead of sacrificing himself, Sylvie and Mobius were able to stop Loki and were able to convince him to let them help. (I’m a big believer in The Power of Friendship endings and will always crave them.)

Kissed You Atop The Ferris Wheel by kittyhazelnut- Loki accidentally freezes time. He and Mobius share (no spoilers) a ✨moment✨. The next time Loki timeslips, things are different.

Missing Scenes, Season Two:

Portraits of your fidelity by Aliencritters- After the events of episode S2, ep1, Mobius convinces a panicking Loki to calm down and take a much needed break.

remember me (for centuries) by bookinit- Loki and Mobius throughout his timeslips.

No Time to Rest by startingatmidnight- (explicit) After the events of S2, ep1, Loki and Mobius sleep together, literally and otherwise ;). (I am obsessed with Mobius’ characterization here. Snarky, manipulative yet deeply caring Mobius, my beloved)

once more to see you by thumbbird- canon divergent S2, ep5, a Don/TVA!Loki fic! Loki has lost TVA Mobius and is determined to make a life for himself with the only Mobius left—timeline Single Dad Don. But how long will Don remain ignorant of the strange circumstance that brought them together? Obsessed with this pairing!

Fluff:

Camellia by 19960821- Settled on the timeline with Mobius, Loki thinks about how far they've come while gardening.

The Veins and The Branches by Love_is_Green- Loki reflects on his and Mobius’ journey while listening to a thunderstorm.

Lokius Fluffuary by blackbirdofasgard- okay I technically haven’t read these ones yet but I adored blackbirdofasgard’s last Fluffuary fics so including their latest here too.

And that’s it for now! My to-read list is miles long so excited to dig in more to the fabulous post S2 fics.

Happy reading!

[amidst-wonderland]

SCOTS / GLASWEGIAN LEXICON

sometimes i forget i'm not my own little echo chamber and that a lot of people's only experience with scots is an unfortunately translated new years song, scottish twitter memes and one of the many animated characters that never seem to be voiced by actual scots (other than brave, scrooge mcduck, cait sith and soap). so, after a particularly nasty comment on archive this time last year (complaining about too much scots when it's explicitly tagged, for shame!) thought i'd make a wee lexicon of general phrases that appear in my fics but general rule of thumb, scots is phonetic so if it looks a lot like a word in english, chances are it is. however, it is a language and there are rules to its spelling so you can't just throw letters and sounds at a wall and see what sticks.

this isn't an exhaustive list, it's just what i could think of in terms of what i use and write in daily-life.

this can also be used for fanfics generally, so feel free to use if you're writing for a character like soap or drop me a dm, always happy to help! also, after having some ptsd with the "scottish pokémon fem!c" i want to make it abundantly clear we don't say "fook."

ae - of / one of an exmaple is 'ah, never ate two ae anything." meaning, "i never ate two of anything." (and for the scottish folk reading this, et tu, isa. - currently have it on whilst i'm writing this).

aff - off

ah'll / ah'm - i will / i am ('ah' just means 'i')

ain - own, as in 'my own car / hoose / dog'

alba - scotland

an'aw - as well

auld - old, like "auld lang syne"

aw'a an tak yir face fir a shite - go away, you're full of / taking shite

aw'richt - alright

awa' an bile yir heid - fuck off. literally telling them to go and boil their head

blether - chatting

cannae / canny - can't

cauld - cold

chancer - chancing your arm, being sly and trying to get one over on someone / getting a leg up

crabbit - irritable

deid - dead

dae - do

didnae - did not

dug - can mean dug a hole, but also dog.

fae each ae yi's - from each of yous

feart - scared

fur / fir - for

gallus - bold

gardyloo - look out below because i'm flinging my piss and shit out of the window because i've nae indoor plumbing. this is also were the term 'shitfaced' comes from because scots coming back from the pub, drunk wouldn't hear it and end up literally shitfaced.

glesga - glasgow

greetin' - crying

guising - trick or treating

haud - hold

haund / haun - hand

hen - girl (term of endearment)

here, you! - a ruder way of saying "oi", also use "haul, you!" again, to quote one of television's finest, "here you!" / "naw, here you's no in the day, can ah help you?" 'haul' is like stop and is generally a bit more threatening than 'here' (can also use, haud, as in “haud oan a minute.”

how - depending on context this usually means 'why'. so someone might say, "how no?" meaning, "why not?" again, you don’t ponder why you demand, how.

jist - just

lit - like

loch - lake

lumber - a hook-up, also a “winch” / “pull”

maw - mum

mebbe - maybe

merrit - married

messages - shopping

mony a mickle maks a muckle - if you look after the pennies, the pounds look after themselves

naw - no

nicht - night

no - again, context depending, no can mean "not". when nora says, "ah'll no dae this with a drink in me." she means, "i'm not having this conversation after having a drink."

oan - on

oot - out

patter - banter

peely-wally - pale, ill

piece - sandwich, so a piece'n'ham

pished - you can literally pish yourself or you're incredibly drunk

pit - put

polis - police

scunnered - nauseated or disgusted due to overindulgence

setterday - saturday

skelping / skelp / skelped - a swift slap

sleekit - sly

sling yer hook - piss off

snout - not sure if this is scottish but chances are if you don’t smoke you won’t know and i don’t think it’s common in england as my little cousin and all her mate who smoke don’t know it but a lot of them roll and don’t smoke straights.

tattie - potato

telt - told

the big hoose - prison, though it's meant to be a specific one in glasgow called barlinnie where basically anyone who's committed a crime in glasgow ends up and it's grim. a lot of glaswegian's grow up with threats of being sent to "the big hoose."

toaty - tiny

wae - with

weans / wains / wee-yins / bairns - children

wee - small

wheesht - shut up

wit - what

wit ye fir? - what are you having

wumman / wummin - woman / women

yir / yer - your / you're

[dadsbongos]

dads rockin' new year's eve!

count the seconds and belt those carols because the new year is approaching quick! let's celebrate right by appreciating our fictional loved ones! be sure to read through the do's & don't's below the cut or be kicked outta VIP! 17/23 prompts remain

tagging peeps who seemed inch rested: @toxycodone / @maniacpixiedreamboy + @xyfanficarchive + @antoine-tte + @dreamsandsuns + @kingofthe-egirls

**collab is open!**

PARTY RULES let's be mindful of our guests and ourselves!

full-length fics are completely non-necessary, but if the inspiration is hot i want people to have plenty of wiggle space! i’d say minimum ~400 words - 5k absolute max.

prompts are first come first served with no repeats. prompts remain open until picked or until December 15th. 

NSFW is allowed, however, i'll need an age or adequate age-indicator plainly visible on your blog or it’s gonna be a party foul! all characters involved must be aged up to 18 or older. dark content is allowed, so long as it’s appropriately tagged.

if, for any reason, you gotta ditch a prompt before midnight please let me know asap so we can get it back out there for a different date! switching one prompt for another can only be done once.

feel free to post as soon as you’re done, posts will be reblogged but not shared on a cohesive masterlist until closer to the deadline: December 26th. please tag your post #dads rockin new year and link back to this post :] 

also! i’d like to avoid repeating characters as much as possible, after 2 prompts are filled by the same character then we’ll need to freshen it up with a new face!

RSVP when's the party, and how to enter!

the big new year's eve bash will be on December 31st, no posts will be let in after the party ends!

to enter: pick an available prompt and drop the emoji in my inbox or messages along with what character you’re writing for (and what fandom they hail from!)

BYOB pick a prompt! the fun part!

12 grapes 🍇

champagne bubbles 🍾

gold tinsel 🥇

silver spoon 🥄

ball drop 🎊

hangover 💊

sloppy midnight kiss💋

fireworks🎆

woop-woop sirens!!🚨

snowball 🍧

recluse at a party 🌱

daddy’s fancy yacht 🚢

minutes after midnight, already broke a resolution⏰

regrets ⭕

last chances! 🍷

and the best part of this year was… 🍰

“you can’t spend the night alone!” 👯‍♀️

late night toast 🍞

stargazing ⭐

streamers 🎉

party favors 🎈

auld lang syne 🎶

secret special super surprise pick! ☢️

(dad spins a wheel and randomly assigns a prompt not pictured on screen. one re-roll allowed.)

GUESTLIST who's allowed in, who's coming, and their date for the party!

writers: @toxycodone x daisuke (mouthwashing) - sloppy midnight kiss💋 @toxycodone x chilchuck (dunmeshi) - regrets⭕ @24kills x satoru gojo (jujutsu kaisen) - silver spoon🥄 @dreamsandsuns x katsuki bakugou (bnha) - ball drop 🎊 @xyfanficarchive x captain curly (mouthwashing) - stargazing⭐ @antoine-tte x kylar (degrees of lewdity) - recluse at a party🌱

fandom: any, be wild be proud be unabashedly cringe as we welcome the new year!

feel free to ask if you have any questions i either didn't cover or if you need any clarification! this is my first go at an event like this, so i want it to run smoothly!

[aquagirl1978]

Auld Lang Syne - Comte de Saint-Germain x Reader (Ikemen Vampire)

A/N: Ny last fic of 2023 - Happy New Year's Eve! Day 6 of my 12 Days of Christmas. Also part of my New Year, New Celebration follower celebration.

Pairing: Comte de Saint-Germain x Reader

Prompt: kiss on the hand

Word Count: 353

Tags: fluff with the tiniest hint of spice at the end

“You look absolutely ravishing tonight.”

Comte was standing next to the carriage, his hand extended to you as he waited for you to make your way down the mansion steps.

You were alight with excitement as you held the hem of your new ball gown, careful not to trip in your new shoes. You paused as you slipped your gloved hand into his; his dazzling smile hid the hedonist lurking underneath the elegant black tuxedo.

“After you, ma chérie,” he said. Lifting your hand to his lips, he brushed a chaste kiss across your knuckles. Your cheeks flushed with warmth as he flicked his eyes up, his golden gaze burning with unbridled desire. 

It was cozy in the carriage when Comte slid into the seat next to you. With your bodies pressed together, the heat from his body quickly radiated to yours. When he placed his hand on your knee, flames of passion ignited in your core.

“I thought we'd start the celebrations early.” Comte reached for the bottle of champagne that was chilling in a bucket of ice on the seats across you. He opened the bottle with a loud pop, causing you to giggle as the champagne bubbled from the top of the bottle. Comte quickly filled two glasses, and handed one to you.

“Bonne année, ma chérie,” he whispered. 

“Happy New Year,” you whispered back as you clicked glasses. The champagne was light and sweet on your tongue. However, the cool liquid trickling down your throat did nothing to cool off your body.

By the time your glasses were drained, you had arrived at your destination.

“We're a bit early,” Comte commented as he took a peek outside. After shutting the curtains closed, he leaned his face dangerously close to yours, his large hand slowly sliding up your thigh.

He dipped his face a little closer, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing kiss. He pulled away, only a millimeter or two away – just enough to tempt you to lean in and kiss him. 

“I think we have a few minutes to kill before we have to go in.”

Tagging: @redheadkittys @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @ikehoe @kpop-and-otome @lucyw260 @queengiuliettafirstlady @kisara-16 @lordsisterxotome @umi-adxhira @crypticbibliophile @yarnnerdally @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @wendolrea @randonauticrap @judejazza @maries-gallery @xbalayage @xenokiryu @nightghoul381

[aethon-recs]

Hi I wanted to know if you know any tomarry fanfics were Tom is the professor. I don't care if it's time travel or anything like that I just want to see some professor Tom because I can't find any.

Also your blog help me so much thank you for that!

Have a good day/night

Oohh, this is a fun one! Thanks for the ask!

I love the Professor Riddle trope. I might be biased, but I think Tom Riddle would have made for the best Defense professor that Harry could have had 😉

See below for some favorite Tomarrymort fics of this trope, arranged by alphabetical order:

*

Professor Riddle Fic Recs

Cam for the Money, Stayed for the Fun by @itsevanffs (E, 7k, complete)

Harry is a camboy. Professor Riddle is secretly his biggest patron.

Everything Green Is Gold by @cindle-writes (E, 24k, WIP)

Prior to Hogwarts, Harry had stayed mostly invisible to the teachers and adults around him his whole life. But Tom Riddle, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, looked at Harry like he was something to be wanted.

Fault Lines by @vestiges-of-light (M, 151k, complete)

After the world believes that Voldemort has died on that Halloween night, Tom Riddle returns to Hogwarts to claim the Defense post at last. Hogwarts will be a sanctuary, while he waits to find out more about Harry Potter and the prophecy that connects them. But when Grindelwald is broken out of prison, perhaps the magical world needs Voldemort to be publicly resurrected after all.

Fidgeting Anxiety Prevention by MistyTheGhost (E, 1k, complete)

Harry feels nothing but dread about his upcoming NEWTS. Luckily, Professor Riddle offers some assistance.

For Auld Lang Syne by @vdoshu (T, 8k, complete)

When he finds himself disarmed and held at wandpoint in the middle of a snowstorm, Tom’s first thought is that he is an embarrassment to Defence professors the world over. His second thought is something along the lines of, “Oh no, not again."

gratuity by @being-luminous (E, 2k, complete)

In the middle of class, Professor Riddle uses a spell to magically manifest his cock into Harry's arse.

hook, line, and sinker by @purplemineralwater (M, 6k, WIP)

Harry asks Professor Riddle for help in killing Voldemort. Riddle is endlessly amused.

Muggle Studies is Economics in Disguise by May_May_0_0 (M, 12k, complete)

Dumbledore acquiesces when Tom Riddle asks for the defense post. Harry stumbles into this AU version of Hogwarts hoping to teach defense. But there is only teaching one spot available: Muggle Studies. Chaos ensues as Muggle Studies becomes everyone’s favorite class. Tom Riddle is enraged, concerned, and… turned on?

Professor by Day, Vigilante by Night by @duplicitywrites (T, 73k, complete)

Harry and Tom have been together since their fifth-year, proving once and for all that Slytherins and Gryffindors can actually get along. Fifteen years later, they are both professors at Hogwarts and more in love than ever. Harry plays Quidditch with the Weasleys on the weekends, and Tom is secretly a vigilante named Voldemort.

On Holiday by @neurowriter14 (E, 2k, complete)

Harry's thirsty over his DADA professor. Professor Riddle knows.

The Orphaned King by @silenceinwinter2019 (E, 134k, complete)

In an AU where Voldemort wins, Harry starts his seventh year. Two things told Harry it would be an interesting semester: first, the Dark Lord would visit Hogwarts; second, they had a new defense professor, who made Harry’s stomach squirm and called himself Marvolo Gaunt.

What Happens in Vegas by @dividawrites (E, 14k, complete)

Turns out, the role of the Slytherin Head of House is not just ruling over pre-teen idiots and deducting points from Gryffindors. Now Tom has to accompany the seventh-year students on their school trip to Las Vegas. It goes even worse than he could have imagined.

*

[porcelainmortal]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tags, @wordsofhoneydew @cha-melodius @thesleepyskipper @onthewaytosomewhere @iboatedhere!

Are you sick of me and this fic yet?? If you are, scroll right on past. I'm neck deep in this shit now. (Apologies for the visual.)

The holidays pass in a blur. Pez is with his family in Morocco, Bea is beautiful and sweet and calls him every day, apparently able to sense his melancholy. His mother is detached but makes an attempt when Bea Facetimes Henry from her house on Christmas Day. “Happy Christmas, my boy,” she smiles as they’re about to sign off. Henry’s voice catches in his throat at the genuine look on his mother’s face, discernible even through the phone screen, and he starts to feel guilty that he didn’t make plans to go home for the holidays this year. After so many years of awkward and stilted family Christmases, Henry had decided it would be a good idea to stay in New York. But right now, with everyone he loves an ocean away, he can barely remember any of his reasons. He’s just lonesome. Pez flies to New York in time for New Year’s and they toast at midnight in their living room, exchanging chaste kisses for luck. It’s quiet but nice and Henry is glad for the companionship. He giggles, drunk on champagne, as Pez stumbles around singing “Auld Lang Syne” at the top of his lungs, forgetting half the words, his neon green hair lighting up the entire flat in the way that only Pez can. And for the briefest of moments, Henry isn’t thinking of Alex.

It's pretty late so here are some soft tags for @blueeyedgrlwrites @thinkof-england @cricketnationrise @firenati0n @inexplicablymine

@theprinceandagcd @myheartalivewrites and an open tag for anyone who wants it! 😘

[zepskies]

Love Actually - Part 3

Paring: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Summary: You and Ben steel yourselves in order to meet your crazy family for Christmas dinner.  

AN: And here’s Part 3, lovelies. Stick around after the end for a special announcement (new BMD fic dropping next weekend)!

Remember, this is set in the same world as “Break Me Down,” and set before “Checkerboard.” There will be a few references to the original story in this. But on the whole, this can be read as a stand-alone!

Word Count: 5,300 Warnings: 18+ only! Smutty smut ahead. Lots of fluff and a potential overload of feels.~

Part 3: “Auld Lang Syne”

You leaned down, subtly grabbing his thigh.

“I need you,” you whispered in his ear. The tone of your voice set his blood alight with new interest.

Ben’s resulting smirk was subtle, but edged. “A tour it is.” 

Ben got up from the couch, giving you a thinly veiled look of smugness. He knew you’d come around. 

You nearly rolled your eyes. 

But when you told your grandfather your plans to show your boyfriend the rest of the house, he just waved the two of you off. He was too invested in the baseball game to give it much thought.

Which left Ben to follow you up the stairs, where he admired the curve of your ass in this little dress. He couldn’t help himself. He reached out and grabbed a delectable handful. 

You gasped and clung to the guardrail. You shot him a warning look over your shoulder, despite your smile. 

Not yet, your gaze told him. But you took his hand and guided him the rest of the way up. His grip tightened on yours.

All right. He could wait.

When they got to the second floor though, Ben started to get curious about the large two-story house. 

“I thought you said your mom had debts,” he said. “Supposedly, that’s why you took on the job of hunting me down.”

You chuckled humorlessly. “Don’t let that Betty Crocker apron fool you. She’s a degenerate gambler.”

Behind you, Ben’s brows rose a bit.

You paused a step. “Or, well, she used to be. As you know, my family has issues.”

He snorted in response. Something else occurred to him though.

“Is this the house you grew up in?” he asked. You full on stopped walking then. 

“Oh, no,” you said, with a firm shake of your head. “She sold that house after the divorce. She bought this one with the settlement money.”

Ben ruminated over that as you led him into the guest bathroom. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, and by the time he turned around, you were there with your warm hands on his chest, shoving back his jacket.

He smirked and shrugged it off the rest of the way, then draped it on the doorknob behind him. He started with unbuttoning and rolling up the sleeves of his black dress shirt. 

You watched him with hunger in your eyes, running your hands down his firm chest and solid abs. 

You heaved a breath of relief when he pulled you in. He wrapped his arms around your waist and started kissing down your neck. You clung to his arms and tried to stop yourself from digging your nails into his nice shirt. 

“What changed your mind?” Ben asked.

“Are you complaining?” you quipped.

“Always a fucking smartass,” he rejoined. And his lips left you, with him giving you raised brow. His thigh slipped between your legs, a slow and torturous friction. “Maybe I’ll just leave that pretty pussy on fire.”

Ugh, you thought. He could be so annoying. You leveled your stern eyes up at him. 

“I need you to fuck me. Right now,” you said. “Or I’m gonna rip my aunt’s face off.” 

You reached down to cup his length firmly through his slacks, earning a grunt from him. It ended on a groan when you grazed him with your nails. He chuckled deeply.

“That’s kinda hot,” he replied. An understatement. The hairs on his arms were standing up, along with his cock. 

You smiled in amusement. “You would think so.”

He grabbed your arms and meant to kiss you, but you stopped him with your fingers against his lips. 

“Two rules: this lipstick doesn’t come off. And no. Ripping. The dress.”

By no means did you want to get caught doing this. You already felt guilty, and you two hadn’t even done anything yet. But you needed this, or else you weren’t sure you could get through dinner without any violent incidents.  

But you could tell that Ben was annoyed at being given restrictions as he stared down at you. 

“You’re making a lot of fucking demands tonight,” he said, squeezing your arms a bit.  

You smirked and tilted your face up to him. You leaned up, nearly brushing your lips with his. 

“Isn’t it more satisfying when you have to work for it?” you asked.

Ben huffed, and almost rolled his eyes. If there was one thing you enjoyed doing, it was testing his fucking patience. 

But then he smirked. “Fine.”

He gripped your arms tighter and turned you around, pressing you against the pristine granite countertop. You met his darkened gaze in the mirror.  

You knew then that he was going to do one of his favorite things: taking you from behind while he made you watch. It wasn’t the first time, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last. But you parted your legs, your lower belly quivering with anticipation as his thigh encouraged you.  

His hands soothed down your arms, dragging across your body, squeezing your breasts over your dress while his lips burned down your neck once more. His teeth grazed your skin, making you shudder.

You then remembered to turn the faucet on in the sink. It would create some more background noise, and hopefully disguise your moans as his hands traveled down your body. 

You helped him slide the skirt of your dress up, tug your pantyhose down to your ankles without ripping them. 

“Hmm, I like the black lace,” he murmured behind you. His fingers dragged down your skin along with your panties.

“I know,” you replied on a shaky breath, as his fingers teased the slit of your pussy from behind, brushing between the folds. “You bought ‘em last week.”

“Did I?” he mused, as his fingers found your clit. He rubbed a bit roughly, drawing a pleased sound from your lips. “I’ve got good taste.”

A smile broke out across your face. “See? I never need to pay you any compliments. You can stroke your own ego just fine.”

Ben tilted his head at you. He peered around your shoulder to catch your eye. You gave him a sly look over your shoulder, though it was edged with desire.

“Oh yeah?” His words were a challenge. His fingers entered you then, earning an even deeper moan from you, though you tried to taper it down. “Maybe I should let you stroke your own too, huh?”

You shook your head, biting your lip. Your inner walls were already clenching on his fingers, and you had to grab his arm and the counter for balance. 

“Ben, please,” you whispered more raggedly. His smirk took on a wicked edge. 

“Oh, now it’s please?” he said, his voice drawing deeper, more gruff. “Please what?”

You couldn’t speak. His fingers were working overtime pulsing inside you, while his other hand joined, parting your folds to press on your clit like a button. You were so fucking close, you could taste it…    

But as soon as that coil began to truly tighten, Ben withdrew his fingers. You panted for breath, and your gaze snapped up to his in the mirror. You glared at him. 

“What the f—”

“Answer me,” he demanded. “Or I really will walk the fuck out right now.” 

Big talk, you thought, from the man with a rock-hard dick. But you blew out a breath and conceded to his demands. 

“Please,” you said, reaching back to stroke his cheek, running your fingers through his hair, bringing him closer. Your hand clenched in his hair. And with the other, you took his hand, still wet from where it had been inside you, and brushed it against your slippery folds. 

“This is all because of you,” you said. “Only ever for you. Fuck me until I break an ankle in these heels. ‘Til I can’t fucking breathe.”

Ben’s chest warmed. And it wasn’t just about his pride.

Somehow, you gave him everything he wanted to hear and more. Maybe that was part of what he loved about you. Even when you demanded from him, you gave him more of yourself.

So he gave you what you wanted. He guided you down onto the counter and rucked up your dress. Per rule #2, he did it gently enough so he wouldn’t rip the fabric. 

You heard his pants unzipping, felt the weeping head of his cock against your folds, teasing you for a moment. You gripped the counter and made a sound of pleading frustration. 

“I gotcha, baby,” Ben said, lowly in your ear. He gripped your hip and guided his cock inside you, nice and slow. You both breathed hard, trying to keep your voices down. He then bottomed out, and it made your inner walls flutter and tighten. He made a gutteral sound, low and pleased. “Such a good girl.”

His darkened green eyes fixed on yours in the mirror. It was heat and desire, but it was also deeper. It always had been, ever since he met you.

And for you, his gaze alone was a molten caress. If you had it your way, you could very well spend the rest of the night in the guest bathroom. In this very moment… 

But it had already been a while in here. You didn’t know how much time you had left before someone came to find you two, so you squeezed his hand on your hip. 

“Get going, cowboy,” you teased, but it was really a command. Ben saw it in your heated gaze in the mirror, meeting his. He slid out of you slow at first, but snapped back in harder. It made you jolt, but also shudder and squeeze him from the inside out. He wished he had the time to do this how he wanted, taking his time, but that was one thing they didn’t have.

He made up for it by taking you hard and deep, putting you through your paces. You held on for dear life while trying not to let your voice raise higher. It was a challenge for you, and you knew Ben liked hearing your voice. But when he hit a particularly good angle, you couldn’t help but cry out a bit. 

He brushed your hair away from your neck and pressed his lips there. He had to bite down to stifle his own grunts. It had you gasping at pain mixed with pleasure. 

He was getting close too; you could feel it in his wilder thrusts, in the tightening of his hand on your hip. You needed just a bit more.

“Ben,” you whispered. He heard the ragged need in your voice. He saw it in your eyes when he met them in the mirror, desperate for release.

“Tell me,” he ground out. 

You took his hand guided it again down to part your folds. He took the hint and once again circled the pads of his fingers against your clit—this time with purpose. Your breath hitched as the coil in your belly finally snapped and released its warmth. 

He gave you a few more hard thrusts before his hips stuttered as he groaned, and he spilled inside you. 

Oh shit. You still hadn’t gotten your IUD replaced…

Oh fucking well, you thought, as your core still quivered with pleasure. This was worth playing a bit fast and loose with your birth control.

For a while, the sounds of your mingled breaths were almost drowned out by the water running. You turned off the faucet. Then your eyes met Ben’s in the mirror, and you smiled. 

The corner of his mouth raised. He slid out of you, but you kept him close with a hand around the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. Part of you couldn’t believe you just fucked your boyfriend in your mother’s house, in the guest bathroom of all places. But you felt all the better for it. 

Or at least, you no longer had a desire for blood. You stroked the arm that still held you upright, more bracing now than restrictive. You felt his seed spilling down your inner thighs, but you couldn’t yet force yourself to move. Your legs were still shaky. 

However, you knew you could rely on the strong pillar of his arms holding you. Ben rested his cheek against your hair, pressing a kiss there.

“You’re beautiful tonight,” he said. 

Your eyes widened with soft shock. When it slowly faded, you bit your lip. Your body shook with quiet laughter as your brows rose high.

“Right now?” you asked. With your dress rucked up and your pantyhose rolled down to your ankles.

“Yeah. Right now,” Ben said. “A fucking sight.” 

And he meant it. 

You could tell, and that warmed you down to your toes. Your smile softened as you rested against him and closed your eyes for a moment.

“You don’t know how glad I am that you’re here with me,” you said. “Thank you.”

“I’ve got some idea,” he murmured, smirking as you once again trembled with a giggle. 

You reluctantly detangled yourself from him to reach down under the sink for a washcloth. Ben let go of your waist, only so he could take the small towel from your hand. You looked up at him in confusion, but he leaned around you to run the cloth under a bit of warm water from the sink.

He then got down on one knee in front of you, and proceeded to clean you up himself. Your eyes widened as you stared down at him. Your breath caught in your throat. 

He’d never done this before. Something about it made you blush. The sheer intimacy of it, probably, of his hand running the warm cloth up your bare inner thighs. His free hand held one of your calves, his thumb resting just under your knee. 

You had to reach for his shoulder to stabilize yourself when the cloth swiped between your thighs, against your sensitive core. It made your lower belly tingle again with a spark of arousal. You breathed in slow and deep before you spoke.

“Not that I’m complaining, but…” you trailed. You weren’t even able to finish your question. 

Ben met your gaze with a raised brow. “What, can’t take care of my girl?” 

It took you a moment, but eventually you smiled. The kind of smile that made your insides warm and buoyant, and your stomach clench.

You had a feeling he’d overheard you and your sister talking earlier. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d eavesdropped with his superior hearing.

Your expression faded a bit when something occurred to you. You tilted your head at him.

“You heard everything my aunt said, didn’t you?” you asked. 

Ben paused a moment, holding the towel against your inner thigh. His lips drew downward as he remembered what he’d heard while trying to concentrate on the baseball game with George. 

“I’m just sayin’!” Trina said. “He might have forever, but you certainly don’t.”

If Louisa hadn’t stepped in when she had, Ben might’ve had to ruin his new suit, if not the evening.

“Seems like having a big fucking mouth runs in your family,” he muttered. 

You snorted. “Yeah, but mine’s endearing. She’s just a bitch, still bitter from her divorce.”

Ben didn’t answer. Though after he finished cleaning you up, he rested and elbow on his bent knee. His free hand dragged up your thigh and over your hip, squeezing soft flesh.

“Yeah well, put her in her place next time, or I will,” he said. His tone was edged, and you gave him a wry look. 

“I’ll try not to give you the chance,” you said. 

“I mean it,” Ben said. His gaze bore into yours, unyielding, even from where he knelt at your feet. He stood to his full height, tucking in his shirt and zipping his pants back up as he went. 

“No one’s got the fucking right to talk about our business,” he said. “And you better not listen to a goddamn word. About me, and sure as shit, not about you.”

A small, sharp breath got stuck in your throat. Just then, you found you had to swallow past a swell of emotion lodging in your throat. 

His hands found their way back to your hips and squeezed gently, but with purpose. You read it in his eyes. 

“You hearing me?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Your aunt was someone who always “meant well.” You had gotten far too used to swallowing your tongue for your mother’s sake. And at the end of the day, you usually knew how to let Trina’s words roll off. You’d certainly had plenty of practice.

But regardless, your heart grew for this man. 

You took his face between your hands, and you kissed him deeply, breaking rule #1.

You took a few more minutes to fix your clothes, your hair, and yes, your lipstick. 

When you two eventually went back downstairs, the table was nearly set. The appetizers and wine remained, along with the plates and silverware. All that was missing was dinner itself. 

“Okay, looks like dinner’s about ready. I’m gonna go and help,” you said. You gave Ben a parting smile and let your fingers run down the back of his arm. He shot you a wink, and one last pat on the ass. 

You had to stifle your squeal, sending him a playfully warning look on your way to the kitchen. You stepped back in to see your mom pouring the cranberry sauce into a serving pitcher. 

“Oh, glad Miss Congeniality could grace us again with her presence,” Trina remarked at the sight of you. 

You gave her a flat smile. “What do you need?”

“We’re serving. Help your mom,” she said, nodding behind her. You wordlessly agreed and went over to Marie, who gave you a curious look. 

“Where were you all that time?” she asked. Louisa looked over with the same question in her eyes. 

“Well, I said hi to Grandpa,” you said. It wasn’t a lie, and technically, nor were your next words. “And then I gave Ben a tour of the house.”

When the fuck is dinner already? Ben thought as he approached the dining table filled with mini quiche, pigs-in-a-blanket, and other appetizers. His stomach was starting to growl something fierce. He was craving real food, but he still grabbed one of the small plates.

While he surveyed the layout of finger food, Great Aunt Silvia sidled up next to him with her cane in hand. Ben noticed her out of the corner of his eye. According to George, she’d had a hip replacement last month. 

“Hey, there,” he greeted somewhat politely, if distracted by adding food to his small plate.  

“Oh, my days. You’re Soldier Boy,” she said in surprise. Her eyes twinkled with delight.

Where’ve you been, lady? Ben thought in annoyance. Oh, that’s right. Passed out in a damn oxy coma.

Before he could respond with something half gracious, he felt a bony hand get a meaty handful of his ass. 

He actually flinched, more at the suddenness than anything else. A pig-in-a-blanket flew from his plate and rolled off the table. 

Ben gave the old woman an incredulous look. What the fuck? 

“Excuse me?” he uttered. 

But of course, she played dumb. And she ducked quick when you came over with the mashed potatoes in large bowl. You set it down on the table, but you noted the grouchy look on his face as he looked past you into the living room. Great Aunt Sylvia waddled away with the help of her cane, back to her nice recliner. 

“What’s the matter?” you asked, earning his attention.

“Silvia’s a wily old broad,” he muttered. At the look on your face, however, he felt the need to clarify. “Apparently she got my ass confused with the quiche.”    

You bit your lip, and your eyes widened. You had to stifle a shocked giggle as you glanced past him to your great aunt, who’d taken her usual seat by her brother. You slid Ben a knowing smirk.

“I thought you liked older women,” you teased. 

He scoffed. “Gotta draw the line somewhere. I think ‘hip replacement’ is that line.”

“Not running for the Astroglide, huh?” you whispered in his ear.  

He grimaced, even though he also wanted to laugh. He just shook his head. 

“Jesus Christ, enough.”

You stifled a laugh through your nose and soothed his arm. 

“Here, help us with getting the ham on the table. Maybe we can avoid another member of my family playing grab ass.”

Once Christmas dinner was all set on the dining table, you were practically salivating. You had a hard time deciding on what to try first: the ham, the sweet potato casserole, the cranberry sauce, or stick as much of all three on your fork as you could. 

You went with the latter, and Louisa eyed you with a laugh. 

“What?” you asked with your mouth full. It got Ben’s attention as well.

“You do this every year,” Louisa remarked. “It’s like you forgot how long it takes to get dinner on the table in this house.”  

“I’m freakin’ starving,” you admitted. 

“Yeah? Worked up an appetite, did you?” Ben asked, a bit pointedly, despite the way he sipped at his wine. (And paying you back for that Astroglide quip). 

You shot him a warning look at his audacity.

Louisa seemed to be the only one who caught the exchange, with a suspicious brow raise. 

“So Ben,” Trina began, around a mouthful of ham. Already her voice set you on edge. “What was it like in the ‘40s? You know, with the Nazis and everything.”

You and Ben shared a subtle glance. His jaw clenched. 

Fuuuucking hell, you thought.

From the head of the table, Grandpa George looked over at his eldest daughter with an annoyed glint in his eye. 

“Katrina, do us all a favor,” he said wryly. “Keep stuffin’ your face.” 

You bit your lip against a grin. Louisa shared your same problem, snorting into her Diet Coke. 

Trina looked adequately indignant, but to everyone’s relief, she just pursed her lips and speared at her plate.  

The rest of dinner was interesting, to say the least, with many questions thrown to Ben about his celebrity days. He ate up the attention, just as you thought he would. It seemed your little escapade upstairs loosened him up too. He told his favorite stories, editing the more graphic anecdotes out of some of them, you noticed gratefully. 

The atmosphere only got tense when Ben bit into some kind of casserole Marie made. The texture was soft and stringy with green beans, but there was something unpleasantly sweet, and even crunchy in the middle. Uncooked noodles, maybe? Frankly, he wasn’t sure what he was eating. 

“You all right, hun?” Marie asked him. 

“What is this?” Ben asked, pointing down at his plate with a fork. 

“Ah.” Trina peered at his plate, and then the suspect casserole. “It’s probably not quite right. God love her, but my sister’s no Gordon Ramsay.”

You frowned as your mom’s gaze fell. Her lips drew downwards in disappointment. 

Before you could speak up, Ben’s voice stopped you. 

“You know what,” Ben said. His voice was tight, in a way that told you he might just snap. Your aunt’s questions had gotten more intrusive and annoying over the past hour, too much even for him to let roll down his back. He was used to dealing with shitty press, but Trina was fucking relentless.

Someone better fucking muzzle this bitch before I do it for her. 

The words were about to fly out of his mouth, in a very real threat. Ben only took his belt off in public for two reasons: a good fuck and a good old-fashioned hog tie. Your aunt was about to get the latter. 

However, he could tell by the way you were gripping the edge of the table, you were bracing yourself for whatever he was going to say next. All eyes were on him.

Ben drew in a breath. With every cell of effort left in him, he turned to Marie with a smile. As pleasant as he could manage. 

“I was just trying to figure out what you put in this, because it’s delicious,” he said.

Marie blinked with a bit of surprise, but then, she brightened. 

“Oh…well, it’s just green bean casserole. A bit of butter, some Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup. That classic recipe,” she said.

But she paused, in a way that told Ben that the other shoe was about to drop. 

“…And I just added a few raisins and walnuts this time. For some texture,” she said with a shrug. “You know, something different.”

She smiled at Ben, while he and the rest of the table tried not to grimace. Who the fuck puts raisins in cream of mushroom? That’s just wrong.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she said.

Ben offered her a nod, but he had to take a long sip of wine to wash the unpleasant mix of overbearing salt and sweetness down. 

He felt your soft hand squeeze his under the table. When he looked over, he found your subtle, thankful smile. The corner of his mouth raised, however slightly. 

The night ticked on, and Ben subtly checked his watch while he chilled out on the couch. He was at the edge of the festivities now, as your family was exchanging gifts by the modest Christmas tree in the living room. 

He surveyed them all—warm and comfortable with one other as they joked and hugged and talked and laughed. Even Trina looked less irritating. 

Ben felt a bit like an intruder. 

Hell, he didn’t think he’d ever had this. A quiet, family Christmas.  

Though he was a bit surprised when Marie was the first one to walk over to him. She sat down on the couch and offered him two gift bags. One was larger than the other.

“You didn’t have to,” he told her, but she waved him off.

“Nonsense. When I saw this, I couldn’t help thinking of you,” she said. Ben began opening the larger one first. It was a simple, dark blue bag. 

“You might think it’s silly,” she said, folding her hands in her lap in a slightly nervous gesture. “Feel free to return it if you don’t like it.”

Ben pulled out a nice bottle of whiskey. He actually appreciated this one. 

“Oh! That’s from Louisa,” said Marie. 

“Really?” He glanced over and found Louisa sitting on the floor beside you. 

You were busy trying to cut through a present Grandpa George had wrapped with duct tape, just to be an asshole. (He did this to you every year, precisely because it frustrated you so much.)  

But Louisa looked up and met Ben’s gaze, giving him a wry smile and a lazy soldier’s salute. His lips quirked, and he inclined his head in wordless thanks.

“This one next,” Marie prompted him. She tapped on the second gift bag, which was bright green and shiny. 

There he found a leatherbound journal and a set of silver ballpoint pens. They looked expensive. They also reminded him of a set his father used to keep in his desk, in his study. Even the smell of the leather brought him back to that room, filled with books, crisp ink-filled pages, and tumblers of whiskey.  

“I’ve worked in a hospital for over ten years, in the psychology wing,” Marie said. “I see a lot of veterans. Lisa, my friend who’s a nurse? She told me that writing things down can help with memories you want to keep, and sort through the ones you’d rather not.” 

Ben held her gaze for a moment, but it soon fell to the journal. He didn’t really know what to say. For once, he was at a loss for words. 

Mostly because he was irritated. He didn’t need what she was offering, and implying…

Still, it was hard to get mad at someone like Marie. It would be like all those times he’d snapped at his own mother, leaving him feeling hollow inside afterwards. He’d always apologized to her later…in his own way. 

But that was a long time ago.

“Sorry,” Marie said eventually. “I know, you’re too busy for all that. But at least you’ve got the whiskey.”

“Thank you,” Ben said. But the reserved smile he offered her was more genuine than even he expected. The journal and the pens still laid in his lap. 

Marie smiled warmly, and in it, Ben saw your inner softness. The way you cared about your family and your friends, and him…he knew then that it began here.

Marie gave his cheek a motherly pat. Ben allowed it, begrudgingly.

“We’re so glad you’re here, honey,” she said. “I hope you had a good time.”

He was a bit relieved when she finally moved on. She headed over to Louisa, who was opening one of her gifts. You got up off the floor returned to your boyfriend with a wrapped box in your hand. First, you admired his small haul. 

“Look who’s popular,” you noted with a grin. Ben gave you a bemused look and put the gifts back in their respective bags. 

“I’ve got one more for you,” you said, with a teasing smile that made him suspicious. You handed him the box, which was about the size of a large book. The sticker said it was from you, to him.

His brows furrowed. “What’s this?”

You already got him the watch. But at your gesturing, he ripped the green wrapping paper off to find…a photo album. 

“Really, what is this?” he asked. 

“You can’t tell?”

“I know what it is—”

“Well, then open it,” you prodded. You sat down next to him as he started flipping through the album. 

The very first picture wiped the curious expression from his face. It was his mother, crisp in black and white. She was young and beautiful and smiling almost shyly for the camera on a windy day. 

Right beside it, there was one of his parents’ wedding pictures, old and yellowed around the corners. The third was a faded picture of the club where his parents met. His mother had been a singer there. 

You leaned over with a hand on his shoulder. Ben looked over at you.

“What the hell did you do?” Ben he asked. His face was hard to read, but he didn’t look upset. His tone was more resigned.

“I found your stash of pictures under the bed, so I thought I’d put them together for you,” you said. You bit your lip in worry, hoping he would like it. You weren’t sure of his reaction yet.

After a moment, he kept flipping. Next were a few pictures of himself, incredibly young and already with a familiar cocky grin. There was even a rare picture of him and his parents together. He remembered when and where it was taken—at his father’s birthday, right after Ben got kicked out of boarding school. 

He hadn’t looked at these pictures in…hell. It’d been decades. He'd retrieved them from an old storage locker last month, but hadn't gotten around to actually opening up the box. Now, he supposed, he didn't have to.

But the album then skipped ahead, by a lot, because the next row of pictures was unfamiliar to him—ones you must’ve added. 

They were of the Supe Affairs team. One was a group picture Hughie managed to grab with all of you in it. 

There was another right beside it, of Hughie trying to lift Ben’s shield. 

“When the fuck did that little shit get ahold of my shield?” Ben groused.

“No idea,” you said with a smile, and you flipped the page. There was an old school polaroid of you with Frenchie and Kimiko, sharing milkshakes. Then you and Annie, clinking cocktails together. Followed by you and M.M. trying to beat Butcher at backgammon. 

And then one of you, your friend Yvette, and her son Devon in Central Park. Another beside it, on that same day, where Ben had an arm raised high and parallel to the ground, and Devon clung onto his arm with a wide smile. 

Ben lingered on that picture for a moment. He was too engrossed in it to see you glance at him, smiling.

He flipped to the next page, where there was a picture of just you and Ben, sleeping in the jet on the way back from a rare field mission you were a part of. He was still in his supe suit, with an arm thrown around your waist. You were resting on his chest, and both of you were completely knocked out. Ben quirked a smile at that one. 

On that page and the next was a series of pictures from the past few months. He didn’t know this, but you’d been collecting them from your phone and had gotten them developed. 

There was the first time Ben got you to ride a motorcycle with him. You were apprehensive, clinging to him for dear life while he grinned. It had taken him a while to convince you to hop on, but the only thing that worked was finally telling you the truth. 

“You really think for one damn second that I’m gonna let you fall?”

The next picture was one he got of you, fresh out of the shower with a towel barely wrapped around you. You were clearly annoyed, but also amused that he’d surprised you with the camera. Ben now pointed to it.

“That one’s my favorite,” he grinned.

“Shocker,” you said with a chuckle. “Keep flipping.”

He then got to one you took of him. He was sitting out on the balcony, half-dressed with a cigar puffing away. The sun was setting beyond him. You caught his profile as he turned to look at you over his shoulder. 

It was a good memory for you, and some damn good photography skills, if you did say so yourself. 

But there was another picture that drew Ben’s eye. It was one that Annie sneakily took of you and him on a night out with her, Hughie, Kimiko, and Frenchie. After a bit of alcohol and cajoling, you’d managed to get Ben out on the dance floor. You were both dewy with sweat from dancing. The lighting was off because of the darkness of the club. 

But the way he was holding you, looking at you with fire thinly veiled behind his eyes, and the way you were looking up at him, like you’d never been more satisfied than to be right where you were…

It was a damn perfect moment captured in four corners. And as Ben’s finger traced the edge of them, he couldn’t stop staring at what it held. 

Until you leaned in and kissed his cheek. 

“Merry Christmas,” you said. And you hoped it was officially a good one.  

When Ben once again turned his head to look at you, he couldn’t help but reach out and frame your face with his hand. He then leaned in and kissed you, unhurried, but with an underlying passion. 

Delightful heat crawled down your spine. You grasped his collar to keep him where you wanted him. 

Meanwhile, the two of you didn’t realize that the rest of your family was surreptitiously watching the little scene. Trina and Marie shared amused smiles. George was glad to see that you finally seemed happy. Sylvia was, once again, passed out in the recliner.

Louisa’s expression was more reserved…but her eyes softened. Maybe she didn’t have to worry about you so much after all.

And when Ben finally parted from you, he thumbed gently at your chin.  

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said.

You and Ben left your mother’s house with plenty of leftover food and a haul of presents, which you both brought upstairs into your apartment. 

“So, I know there were some snafus, but it was nice, right?” you asked him as you made your way into the bedroom.

Ben was already there at his dresser, taking off his new watch and placing it back in its black suede box for safe keeping. He considered your words with a nod, and a smile you couldn’t see.

“It wasn’t bad,” he said. 

You nodded in satisfaction. That was practically a glowing review, coming from him. 

His gaze found yours in the mirror, those perfectly red painted lips forming a smile as you approach from behind. Your hands travelled through the bows of his arms to unbuckle his belt for him. 

“I know you did me a lot of favors today, but I’m gonna need one more,” you said, with a coy smile curving your lips. “I need your help taking off this lipstick.”

Smirking, Ben turned in your arms and leaned back casually against the dresser. Using his unfastened belt as leverage, you leaned up in your heels and met his lips in a slow, but fiery kiss.

His eyes unconsciously closed as the scent of your perfume once again invaded his nose. It was less powerful by now, but it still clung to your skin like a soft imprint. He liked it. 

After your lips drew away from his, Ben watched you make a show of undoing the small latch on his pants, and then his zipper. He sunk his fingers into the soft waves of your hair, and he gave you a charming grin that once got him starlets and movie deals. 

“Well, I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” he said.  

You smirked at that. You didn’t know if fucking you in your mom’s house constituted as gentlemanly behavior, but you’d let that slide. 

And you did some sliding yourself, down his strong thighs and onto your knees. He could take care of you all right, but you prided yourself on taking care of him too. 

AN: And there you have it, folks. 😜 What did you think? From bathroom shenanigans and Christmas dinner to some good old-fashioned gift giving. I think we covered it all! lol

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, we have a more angsty mini series:

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

▶️ Next Story: Wake Me Up

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[aziraphales-library]

Hello,

First of all, I know that everyone says it but it's never enough : thank you mods for all of your hard work on this blog, you literally saved me several times from my life <3

Now for the ask, I know there are some tags about it but do you have any (more?) Fics in *alternate universe - human* that are about Crowley suffering as in he goes through something rough physically (and especially) mentally in his life pls (for reference, it would be in the style of "Slow Show" by mia_ugly where Crowley went through a rough patch and was addicted to cocaine/alcohol before the events of the fic and mainly has issues with how he sees himself)

Thank you ever so much again for your work and have nice day/night wherever you are <3

Hi and thank you! Here are some fics featuring Crowley dealing/having dealt with drug/alcohol addiction. Mind the tags, folks!...

For Auld Lang Syne by cherriepixie27 (E)

Crowley accepts an invitation to a small New Year’s party at his former best friend and almost-lover’s reconstructed bookshop. Aziraphale probably isn’t expecting him to respond, much less show up. Maybe this is finally their chance to get things right. A second chance, human AU with plenty of feelings and smut for our Ineffable Husbands.

I Want To Break Free by TakeItEezy (M)

Anthony Crowley, a drug addict, doesn’t like being put in a box, especially if that box included doctors and psychologists. However, Solomon Aziraphale makes him realize that this could be his chance to break free from the life he had before. But, will Aziraphale be stuck in his old life forever? Would he ever allow himself to get better?

Taking flight by Sani86 (T)

Aziraphale is a first-year fine arts student with an eye for beautiful people. Crowley is a professional ballet dancer with the most perfect body he'd ever seen. A story about art, self-expression and friendship through thick and thin.

That's Your First Mistake by jedjubeed (T)

When Crowley was younger, and he got lonely, he thought about all the atoms around him, and all the space between them. Did atoms get lonely? Must do. When Crowley got older, and he got lonely, he knew to pick up the telephone. Alternatively, a human AU which tells the story about how Aziraphale (Ezra Fell) and Crowley met, became friends, and fell in love.

Out of Suffering Into Love by Slow_Burn_Sally (E)

Aziraphale is a sexually repressed man who grew up in a religious household. Crowley is an artist with a sordid past. Both of them are afraid to love and be loved.

Car Trouble by summerofspock (E)

Aziraphale's car breaks down so he takes it to the first mechanic he can find. From there, his mundane life changes drastically as he finds himself befriending the man fixing his car.

- Mod D

[thethreebroomsticksfic]

Hello dearest patrons! The barkeeps at The Three Broomsticks are delighted to announce the return of Yule Bash (with a twist)! This year the fest will take a slightly different form - The Twelve Days of Yule Bash! ❄️🎄🥂 Join us in celebrating the 2023 holiday season with 12 days of fanworks inspired by the Christmassy, wintry prompts listed below. You can use one (or three, or ten) to write fanfics, create fanart, post moodboards… the sky’s the limit here! 

From December 11th through 22nd, we’ll reblog any works posted for The Twelve Days of Yule Bash. The rules are simple: 

Use at least one (1) of the prompts in your submission. You’re more than welcome to use multiple prompts in a single submission. 

Fanfic writers, we ask that your fics be a minimum of 300 words. No word limit for maximum word count. Note: fics must also be canon compliant as TTB is first and foremost a canon-compliant fanfic server.

Kindly only post your work between December 11th and 22nd. You do not need to submit them to our blog, however. Simply post them on your own blog and tag us! 

Tag @thethreebroomsticksfic if you’re posting on Tumblr. You can also submit to our AO3 collection here. 

If you have any questions about the fest, feel free to ask a question here, or message any of the mods! ( @hinnyfied @lanaturnergetup @solongdaisymayy @merlinsbudgiesmugglers @incalculablepower )

We look forward to seeing everyone’s work this festive season! 

🎄Prompts

Mountains

Frozen

Fireplace

Cinnamon

Evergreen

First snow

Northern lights

Durmstrang

Snowed In

Weasley jumper

Hot cocoa

Holiday party

Ice skating/rink 

Hogsmeade

Celestina Warbeck

Christmas crackers

Gingerbread

Tinsel

Christmas market

Mulled mead

Baubles

Mistletoe 

Secret Santa

Socks

Family Dinner

Nightmare before Christmas 

Blue Christmas

Auld Lang Syne

New Year’s Kiss

Fireworks

[whalefairyfandom12]

Sebinis Fic Exchange

Thank you to the lovely @trappezoider for the banner 💚

A Mirror, Darkly (explicit) by @whalefairyfandom12

“There’s an inscription. It’s backwards, but corrected it says: I show not your face but your heart's desire.” Ominis’ head tips to the side, something wistful falling across his features. “What do you see?” Sebastian wets his lips, tugging on his sleeve until they’re almost nose to nose. “I can’t tell you,” he says, voice lowering. “But I can show you.” 

Auld Lang Syne (explicit) by clockworksiren

In their final year at Hogwarts, the Yule Ball is fast approaching and Sebastian has yet to ask anyone to go with him. Ominis finds scratched out ideas for an invitation and presumes it’s for someone else. Tension brews until the boys learn that communication is key and they’re both idiots.

Ideological Gap (explicit, rape/non-con) by brightened

Sebastian knows exactly what he wants. Unfortunately, Ominis doesn’t want the same.

la camera dei segreti (teen) by @gargoylegrave

Ominis has a task for Sebastian—it’s too bad that task has to remain a secret.

mangiarti (explicit) by @gargoylegrave

Ominis has a special surprise for Sebastian. Sebastian doesn’t know how to react.

Ouroboros (explicit, violence, and rape/non-con) by @blatantblue

Sebastian owns five shirts — two black ones, a brown one, a white one, and one of an irrelevant colour, too worn out to even consider. Not one of them seems appropriate to wear to pay a visit to a long-lost friend at a brothel. Especially as a client.

So You'll Never Be Lonely (mature) by gimbal_animation

Sebastian Sallow was married twice.

Sugar for the Pill (general) by @silasbug

Ominis had always known that this day would come, but knowing it could not have prepared him for whom he was about to meet.

The Librarian (explicit) by @trappezoider

Sebastian thought that the last months of his education at Hogwarts would be peaceful and quiet, until the school decided to hire a new head librarian, Ominis Gaunt.

Winter Nights (general) by @turntechgoddesshead

Winter time is arguably the worst for Slytherins. What are they to do when the common room freezes over?

[franklyimissparis]

Some great 1970’s fix it fics: a toot and a snore by 15clubsaday

They also wrote a great 1967 fic called auld langs syne that’s is perfect because it’s about new years

They’re currently writing a fic about 1976 house husband years called Writig Letters

Also Bermuda and The Jumper and I can only speak my mind

love all of these fics dearly!!! we’re so lucky to have such great writers around here.

some of other 70s/80s fix-it recs for my fellow enthusiasts :)) (all of these are on ao3)

- the birthday party by merseydreams

- take a sad song and make it better by javelinbk

- having coffee by dornfelder

- going nowhere by inspiteallthedanger

[alwaysbethewest]

Narcos fic: Old Acquaintance

Happy New Year! This is my contribution to the @pickled-pena challenge. It was such a fun idea I couldn't resist trying to whip something up for it. I'm taking a Tumblr break for January so I'm actually scheduling this to post and I'm looking forward to seeing other people's fics when I get back 🥰 (or on AO3 before that!)

Because I'm apparently only capable of writing the exact same dynamic over and over, this is sort of a spiritual sequel to Where the Love Light Gleams, only set at New Year's instead of Christmas. 🤷‍♀️

Title: Old Acquaintance Pairing: Steve/Connie + Javier Rating: Teen Word count: 550 Content/warnings: Post-series, pre-OT3, alcohol, sappiness, Javi getting loved on. Unbetaed.

Steve isn’t a belligerent drunk, but he is an argumentative one.

“You stand there and accuse me,” he protests, “but where were you at the time?”

It’s New Year’s Eve and they’re not as young as they once were. Instead of finding a pretty girl at a dance club or a house party, Javi is spending the evening sprawled comfortably on the Murphys’ living room sofa, nursing vodka martinis and half-watching Dick Clark on the TV out of the corner of his eye. The volume is nearly muted, allowing their conversation to flow with the drinks, and they’ve now reached the stage of the evening where innocent observations are being taken as personal affronts.

“I have a witness,” Javi tells him.

Steve’s mouth gapes. He looks at Javi, then turns to where Connie is sitting, suspiciously silent.

She breaks.

“I’m sorry, honey. You know how Javier is. He smooth-talked me.”

Javi shoots her a wink and she stifles a laugh.

“That’s dirty,” Steve says, rounding on him again. “Getting a wife to testify against her husband. I would’ve thought better of you.”

“Really?” Javi asks. That finally makes Steve laugh.

“My mistake,” he says. “Hey, I’ll forgive you if you get me another drink.”

They’ve been through enough shit that Javi’s not too worried about his forgiveness by now, but he sees that Connie’s glass is empty, too, and he’s feeling charitable so he hauls himself off the couch and steps into the kitchen.

The vodka’s in the freezer but he takes it upon himself to switch Steve to beer. He digs through the fridge for a bottle of Corona and cracks it open.

When he settles back in the living room he sits on the floor at Connie’s feet.

“You guys have a lot of pickles,” he mentions. If Steve were sober, he thinks, he’d call him out sarcastically for making such a scintillating remark, but instead he just purses his lips and agrees with a solemn nod.

Connie’s hand touches the crown of his head, and then her fingers are sliding through his hair, nails scritching gently, distractingly, at his scalp. Javi’s eyes fall shut in contentment.

“I’m making cubanos tomorrow,” she tells them.

Both men groan in pleasure at the prospect.

“I might never leave if you keep feeding me like this,” Javi warns her. She tugs on a lock of his hair.

“That’s the goal, baby.”

“Me and Connie talked about it,” Steve says. “It’s our new year’s resolution, we’re gonna convince you to move out here.”

Javi laughs but it makes his chest go all warm inside, being wanted like that. Texas is home but it’s a little lonely, too. The familiar big skies and the landscape of his dad’s ranch only go so far in competing with this cozy living room, with its ugly carpeting and overstuffed couches and boxy TV and Connie’s hand in his hair.

Steve turns up the volume as the countdown for the ball drop begins. When the new year lands, he hears Steve’s happy new year muffled against Connie’s mouth, and then her hand slides down to cup his cheek and tilt his head back, and then they’re both attacking his face in a volley of kisses until the sound of their laughter drowns out Auld Lang Syne on the TV.

(teeny tiny tag list: @pedrostories, @littlemisspascal, @knittingqueen13, @by-ilmater, @loversandantiheroes, @pajamasecrets, @fleetwoodmactshirt, @mourningbirds1)