#I also don't know how to draw birds | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweetteainthesummerx · 6 months ago

Text

⋆·˚ ༘ * oh, my, my, my ⋆·˚ ༘ *

nhl masterlist !

pairings: quinn hughes x childhood friend!reader, jack hughes x platonic best friend!reader, quinn x artist!reader

warnings: angst and comfort, fluff

summary: you and quinn throughout the years, and how you fall in love <3

song: mary's song (oh my my my) by taylor swift

word count: 4.4 k

notes: I love lake quinn sm :)

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

our daddies used to joke about the two of us, growing up and falling in love, our mamas smiled, and rolled their eyes

"oh, she's so tiny!" ellen cooes, cradling the little bundle of pink, "and she has your eyes, birdie."

your mother smiles at the nickname her college friend had given her freshman year, when a bird had pooped on her head during a girl's night out.

it stuck (literally), and almost 10 years later, as her best friend holds her babygirl, she's reminded of everything they'd been through together.

"congrats, man. the first girl in the family!" jim slaps your dad on the shoulder, the two men smiling at their wives.

"oh, she's just precious." you yawn, and all of the adults are reduced to an awwing mess.

quinn toddles over, chubby toddler legs still unsure. he lands on his butt half a foot away from ellen, who lifts him up with the hand that wasn't holding you.

"look, quinny."

quinn reaches out a finger towards you, and jim is about to chide him when your tiny little fist locks around it. his wide eyes widen even more. you gurgle happily at him, and for the first time in a while, he goes completely still, enraptured by the baby in front of him.

"oh." your father whispers.

"well, that's your son-in-law now," jim laughs.

"hey, don't count out jack! they're closer in age, after all."

your mom rolls her eyes, as ellen snorts, "let's not pre-write our kid's futures before they're five, please."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

i was seven and you were nine, i looked at you like the stars that shine

"y'know, birdie," ellen starts, "the boys might be right."

"no, they cannot eat four pb and j's and then go to the carnival-"

"no, not the little ones!", ellen laughs, "our husbands. they might be right."

"oh, that? the whole son-in-law thing?" your mom grins, as she watches luke chase after you with a worm.

the two women are silent and thoughtful as you - screaming at the top of your lungs - duck behind quinn, who sternly tells off his little brother. your sticky hands lace with his, naturally, albeit a bit awkward the way only kids can be.

you absolutely adore quinn. he's your protector, the one you turn to more often than not. jack is your best friend, and you remind her of that often. luke is your baby brother, the one you coddle and fuss over.

and the boys adore you just as much; jack plays pirates with you all day, Luke follows you like a puppy, and quinn...

he's staked a claim on you that makes your mom laugh, but worry a little when your older and you inevitably find someone who isn't him.

it never occurred to her that he might be the one.

"oh my god." your mom says as your dad walks in with jim.

"ha! see? I know I put money on my son for good reason." jim says gleefully, and quickly pipes down at ellen's dirty look.

"jack is also your son, man." your dad shakes his head.

"seriously? you guys made bets on the future love lives of your prepubescent kids?"

"birdie, it's just a joke!"

he eats his words as quinn leads you through the door. you're in tears, a nasty scrape on your knee. he's got your hand cradled in his.

ellen and your mom fawn over it, how brave you were, but all you could remember is how quinn held your hand the whole time.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back when our world was one block wide, i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried

when you're ten, you almost have your first kiss.

you're going through a phase, really, when all you would wear were your overall jean shorts, a big t-shirt and your red converses. you have little pen drawings all over your shoes and shorts.

now, when you look at the photos from back then, you cringe a little at how lanky and young you look.

you're with the boys at one of the neighbouring lake houses, a couple of other girls and a few guys too.

everyone there lived on the same block, so it was odd that you hadn't all hung out together before.

quinn can tell you're uncomfortable around the other guys, who are loud and frankly very obnoxious. even his 12-year-old self can tell.

he tells you that you can all leave and go get ice cream near the boardwalk, but you refuse. you're 10 already, you can handle a few new strangers.

somehow, spin the bottle is brought up and you find yourself sitting cross-legged as one of the older girls - who's kind and much more grown than you - tellsdyou how to spin the bottle.

your hands shake and the backs of your knees are slick with sweat, but you spin anyways. you want to seem cool and older too.

you watch the root beer bottled patter as it turns, the ting, ting sound dissonant with your thumping heart.

it lands on quinn.

your quinn who knows all of the words to the spider man movies, who gives the last popsicle to you and lets you tuck your feet under his thighs when you get cold.

this is a disaster, you think, because you don't know how to kiss! are you supposed to use your tongue? you almost gag at the thought.

quinn can see your very apparent panic, and the only thing on his mind was to make it of away.

he wants to hold your hand, but when you turned nine you had decided that boys had cooties, so you refused to touch him or his brothers.

"...we don't have to," he offers, scratching his neck. one of the boys boo, and you flush.

you shook your head, "i want to."

he smiles, shy and boyish and your heart goes into overdrive.

his face matches yours in colour as he scoots forward awkwardly, cupping your face the way he'd seen his dad do to his mom.

as he leans forward, you burst into tears. if you kiss him, and he's disgusted by your kissing skills - or lack thereof - he wouldn't be your quinn anymore.

you run out embarrassed, leaving quinn's hand outstretched and the older girl from earlier confused and worried.

you think that you had ruined it all, but later that night when quinn offers to take you to get ice cream and lets you get two scoops, you know nothing can tear the two of you apart.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back to the creek beds we turned up, two A.M. riding in your truck and all I need is you next to me

the year quinn turned 16, he gets his boating and drivers license.

when the first real day of summer - he doesn't count the days until he sees you and the lake house again - starts and he finds you making eggs and bacon in the kitchen, he gives you an offer.

"hey, chickie." he tugs playfully at the string of your apron. jim had given you that nickname because of your mom's. chickie, like a baby bird. jack liked to call you chicklet, and Luke followed suit.

the adults think you've outgrown that name, and only call you chickie sporadically.

it's become special for you and quinn, sacred even,

"hi, quinny." you answer in the same tone, swatting him with the spatula in your hand.

"give me a piece of bacon and i'll take you out onto the water. i'll even let you drive a bit when we're far out." he murmurs as you turn the stove off.

"really?" you squeal, and he winces jokingly.

"yes, yes! finally!" you throw yourself at him, letting the older boy catch you around the waist. he grins into your hair, his cheek muscles unused by the seasons without you.

"okay, kid. pipe down. where's my bacon?" he grumbles, but he smiles when you turn around to fix him a whole plate.

you forget in all of your excitement that he doesn't even like bacon.

it's pathetic, really, but he missed you. he still does even though you're less than a foot away from him, salting your scrambled eggs.

he finishes his food faster than you do, and leaves to set up the boat with your promises that you would hurry.

he's excited; he hasn't seen you since christmas, and then, he had to share you with jack and luke and his parents too.

that year, you and jack had become decidedly closer, and quinn knows he has to establish that boat time was for you and him only.

so when jack and luke both follow you onto the boat, whooping and screaming, he's pissed.

and on top of that, he has to drive the boat while you and jack banter and threaten to shove each other off of the moving vessel.

it wasn't fair: you're his person. you guys did gas station runs together, you always looked at him with sad puppy eyes when you were cold.

he'd always grumbled and give you his sweatshirt when you refused to bring a jacket and ended up shivering. you always begged to braid his hair when the sun was at it's highest and there was nothing to do.

so yeah, excuse him if he was mad that your time together was interrupted by jack and luke of all people.

so when you walk up to him, hair messy and wearing nothing but your bathing suit and one of his old hockey jerseys, he tries his best to ignore you.

"quinny!" you exclaim, nudging his shoulder, and once more when he doesn't answer.

he glances quickly at you, but one look is enough to make his chest squeeze in that way that it started to do since last summer.

you had always been beautiful, but you were starting to be seriously gorgeous.

your hair is windblown, skin tanned and freckled with eyes bright from the sheer novelty of it being summer again.

you'd started to fill out more; the tiny bikinis you - and he - loved made something hot tug in his lower stomach.

tucking your hand into the crook of his elbow in the way that always makes him soften like butter, "I thought you were gonna let me drive!"

"ask jack to teach you," he snarks, and regrets it immediately at the hurt on your face.

his chest tightens, like someone has taken the hurt on your features and shoved it between his rib cage so he couldn't breathe.

the two of you don't talk for the rest of the day.

quinn feels like an asshole, and he really doesn't like how you refuse to sit in your normal spot next to him during movie night, instead opting to tuck yourself between the edge of the couch and luke.

and the salt on the wound was when you don't laugh at the stupid jokes he makes for you, especially.

his mom asks him what he had done when he goes to get more popcorn in the kitchen.

"what? why did you automatically assume I didn't something?" he asked, offended.

"because, that girl sticks to you like a magnet," ellen smooths his temple, "and because no one makes you smile and talk like she does. you've been silent all day."

the next night, he shows up at the door of your room in the lake house your two families shared.

he knocks, and pokes his head in, "chickie?

you're at your table, drawing again like you always were.

he keeps the little sketch of him you made last summer in his wallet, tucked under the picture of all of the hughes boys and you.

you ignore him, and he flops on your bed. the floral sheets your mom bought when you were 11 smells like you. he tries not to be creepy and inhale - at least too noticeably.

"gas station run?" he asks.

you finally spare him a glance, "quinny, it's past one o'clock, and it'll take at least 20 minuted to get there."

"please? I really want chips."

you sigh, ever the martyr, and agree. neither of you mention how the hughes stock up enough snacks to last at least 2 months the beginning of every summer.

the battle of who cracks first kept on, until finally, on the way back from the gas station, quinn sighs, "I'm sorry.

you frown, clearly not impressed, "I don't even know why you're sorry."

"god, this is embarrassing-"

"quintin, i swear-"

"i wanted the boat ride to be just us two!" he exclaims loudly.

there was a beat of silence, only the chirp of crickets that crept in the tall grass you could hear through the open windows of jim's truck.

the light on the radio shined, 1:59 AM.

"what?" you ask, a little confused and very much flustered.

"i missed you, chickie, and jack is always monopolizing your time! you're my person and-"

"are you jealous?"

"what?"

"oh my god, you are! you're jealous!"

"no!" he splutters, grateful that it's pitch black outside, because he can feel his ears heating up.

you laugh, tugging at one of his curls, as he grumbles something about not letting you eat any of his salt and vinegar chips.

"quinny?" you ask a little while later, when he's pulling back into the drive way, "y'know that you're my person too, right?"

you look soft and sleepy, under the light of the car, in one of his hoodies and sleep shorts.

he swears he turns into liquid in the drivers seat.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

well, i was sixteen when suddenly, i wasn't that little girl you used to see

"I wouldn't worry about that, chicklet." jack throws his arm around you, and you roll your eyes at the many girls starting to glare at you.

"I don't know what you're talking about." except you do.

there's a girl flirting with quinn, and she's pretty. she's got tattoos on her arms, and she's tall, almost tall at him.

you take a break from the self-deprecating comparison between yourself and her to admire quinn for one second.

he's gotten so tall and broad, all the signs of boyhood gone, except when he smiles that special smile for you. the one when his eyes get all squinty and he bares all of his pretty teeth.

your heart twists, because he hasn't smiled at you like that all summer.

you don't know what you did wrong. maybe he's outgrowing you. he'll be a college man next fall, and you're still in high school.

he's got the whole world in front of him, and well, you couldn't blame him if he didn't want to settle for you.

you realize your feelings for him the beginning of the summer.

or you uncover them, because if you're honest, they've always been there.

and right now, you're wearing your heart on your sleeve, because he looks so handsome in a tight black t-shirt and shorts, a backwards cap on his curls.

his biceps look huge, and between the teenage hormones and the two shots in your system, you want to climb him like a tree.

the more romantic side of you wished you had your charcoal and parchment, so you can copy down his likeness for when your old and greying and you can't remember how he looks illuminated by the moon and bonfire.

"yeah, sure. you're clueless." jack snorts, and he makes his way to the drink table at the party you're at.

you pass by Luke, who's preoccupied by a girl way too old for him, and go sit closer to the fire.

you're mad.

you're mad because you've dressed up real cute, in a tiny black tube top and denim shorts.

you're mad because your hair is curled the way quinn likes it.

you know that for a fact because every time it looks like that, he comes up behind you to wind his fingers through a strand. it was a hassle, and he won't even look at you.

"what's a pretty girl like you doing alone?"

it's a boy with mussed, brown hair and a nice smile.

he's cute. peter, or pierre, he introduces himself. he reminds you a bit of the boyfriend you had first semester of sophomore year.

you've had boyfriends, and quinn has had his relationships, but summer was sacred.

that's why you felt ill when you flirted with him, not because quinn was a mere 20 feet away, starting to glance over and frown.

quinn has always been a jealous motherfucker; you'd give it 5 minutes before he comes over.

you try not to gloat when he comes over in 2.

"hey, chickie. time to go." he tells you, taking you cup and winding an arm around your waist.

you roll your eyes, pushing him off, "no, I'm good here,"

quinn crosses his arms and puffs out his chest, biceps flexing in front of you.

the boy smiles - you've already forgotten his name, something p - and shrugs at quinn.

he's mad now, you can tell, but you wrap you're fingers around the other boy's elbow to egg him on.

"oh, for- that's it. c'mon."

suddenly, your feet are swept out from under you, and you're thrown over his shoulder.

you frown, realizing that you're in the air.

"hey!" you protest weakly as people turn to look at you. quinn continues his trudge all the way to where he's parked his dad's truck and dumps you on the hood like you weigh nothing.

"what are you doing?" he asks, eyes dark, "that guy is no good-"

"no! what are you doing?" all of your frustration pools in your throat, and embarrassing tears are starting to prick at your eyes.

"you won't even look at me all summer, you're flirting with some girl and you get mad at me? you're being such-"

he shakes his head, looking as exasperated as you feel.

"do you know how hard it is-" he breathes out shakily, "how difficult it is to control myself around you?"

"what?" you ask, heart beating in your ears, "what?"

"i have been in love with you since i was 12, chickie." his tone is begging, and so are his eyes.

he looks pained, and you want to relieve it so, so badly. but he still won't touch you. he's hovering away from you, like he has for the past month.

"i love you, and you see me nothing more than a brother, like how you see jack. and it hurts, here," he rubs the heel of his palm between his ribs, "to know that you'll never want me the same way."

"quinn-"

"no, let me talk. I've spent the past 6 years pining after you. I've tried to move on, but all...nothing compares to you. I want you so bad, chickie, but..." he turns from you, head in his hands.

now, if you weren't like 3 beers and 2 shots deep, you would realize that he can't really go anywhere because you're quite literally on the top of his car.

but drunk you is clearly a dumbass, because you think he's trying to leave. so you tell him what's actually on your mind.

"i love you!" you blurt out.

he turns slowly, "what?"

"i love you too. i thought you didn't want me because you're leaving for college, but i want you so bad, please-"

the next thing you know, he's between your legs, so warm and solid, pulling you in by your cheek like during that spin the bottle game 6 years ago.

you let him kiss you for real this time, you let him push up your shorts to feel more of your skin, you let him lick into your mouth.

he pulls away, and you whine, tugging him in again.

he laughs, which makes you laugh in turn, and you slide down the hood as you giggle. he catches you, because he always does.

"i love you." you tell him, and he flushes, nuzzling into your neck.

"say it again," he demands, just because he can.

"i love you, my quinny." you coo, and he wants to crawl into your skin and settle there forever.

"i love you too, chickie."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

oh, my, my, my

"told you so." Jim tells the rest of the parents.

the four of them - the weirdos - are on the second floor, leaning on the bannister as you make breakfast with quinn.

well, you make breakfast and he's distracting you.

he's got his arms wrapped around your shoulders from the back, and the two of you waddle like a pair of penguins around the kitchen gathering ingredients for pancakes.

you're giggling, and he's got a half-smile on his face.

you look so happy together than ellen and your mom are ignoring jim's gloating.

they are even kind enough to ignore the exchange of money between the two men, after all, your dad had bet on jack and lost.

"i can't wait for their wedding."

"hold on, now!"

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

a few years had gone and come around, we were sitting at our favorite spot in town and you looked at me, got down on one knee

you're on Quinn's lap, content and warm. the two of you had gotten up to watch the sunrise, first day of the summer at the lake house.

it's nice to have everyone in one place again, the two of you coming from vancouver, the boys from new jersey.

the past couple of years had been hard; a year or two long distance, until you went to study architecture at UBC after quinn had been drafted.

this year, 24 and 22, you finally get some rest and the promise of settling down more.

quinn's captain, and you have a good job that lets you work remote and do what you love.

and more importantly, the two of you are always together.

"babe?" quinn asks, running a hand down your arms, "c'mon, let's go to the dock?"

you don't protest, just happy to be at your childhood lake house.

he leads you there, like he always does.

"pretty." you stare out at the water, orange and pink sky meeting in the still horizon.

"yeah." quinn gives you a smile, rare for anyone else.

but he has always smiled for you, and you greedily hoard them in your memories.

"got something to show you," he pulls his wallet out, the two pictures in the clear flaps catch your eye.

one is a polaroid of you and your boys. quinn is 15, jack is 14, you're 13 and luke is 11. all of you are lanky and awkward, wrapped around each other and grinning ear to ear.

the other is also a polaroid, taken by ellen a year or two ago, when all of your parents came to visit your Vancouver apartment.

quinn's arm is around your shoulders and you're clinging to his side, one hand curled around his waist and the other on his chest. you're smiling at the camera, and quinn is smiling at you.

"cute," you tell him, but he digs a finger into the little pocket.

"fuck," he swears when whatever he's looking for doesn't come out.

"here, let me," you offer. you retrieve a piece of thick parchment with your smaller hands.

it's a sketch of quinn you did when you were in your early teens.

it's not great, you have to admit. the lines aren't smooth like how you sketch now, but the ink and paper is in pristine condition.

"quinn...you kept this?" you ask softly, oddly emotional.

when you look at him, he has a weird look on his face. he scratches his neck.

you stare at each other for a moment, the familiarity of your love almost stifling in the cool morning air.

and then he drops down on one knee.

you start crying, immediately.

that sets him off, and the two of you are blubbering as he tries to get through the speech he wrote in his notes 7 months ago after he got the ring and you were in the shower.

he tells you he loves you, how he's never going to leave you, that you're going to build a life together, just like how you've done everything together since you were kids.

you believe him, because your quinn is nothing if not earnest and steady.

you let him slip the simple ring onto your finger, and he lifts you up into strong arms to kiss you.

you're so deliriously happy that your teeth clash with his in a smiling kiss.

your families cheers from the porch, and you laugh, watery and heart full.

jack runs up first, swinging you around and clapping his hand down on quinn's shoulder.

Luke kisses your cheek and hugs his older brother, as ellen and your mom hug you together.

jim wraps his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead, "thanks for helping me win the bet, chickie." you chuckle, reaching for your dad next.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back to the time when we walked down the aisle, our whole town came and our mamas cried, you said I do and I did too

the wedding takes place a year later, in a small winery near the house, because ellen and your mom refused to let you have the wedding on the dock.

this was your compromise, because it's a small affair.

your dad walks you down the aisle to quinn. you're smiling, like there's a hanger in your mouth because you're just so happy.

he cries when he sees you, and so do the other hughes boys.

you hear your mom and ellen, tears meeting shaky smiles on their faces.

your own college friend, your birdie, fixes your veil and holds your bouquet.

sweet promises are exchanged in your vows, and when you have your first kiss as mr. and mrs. hughes, all of your loved ones cheer.

quinn sweeps you off your feet and bridal carries you to a change room so you can switch into your reception dress.

he sees you later as jack, who volunteered to be the mc, announces you guys as mr. and mrs. hughes.

quinn's eyes are hot and dark as he sees your smooth skin under white lace, and whispers something into the shell of your ear that makes you pink.

you dance together, with his brothers and his dad, with your own too.

but the last dance is saved for the two of you.

"i can't wait to grow old with you, chickie." he whispers romantically.

"you'd make such a cute old man," you tell him, and he rolls his eyes.

you laugh, and so does he.

forever sounds real good to you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

2K notes · View notes

frostblightsunbite · 4 months ago

Text

I call this birdwatching, because he's a bird, watching.

(I probably stole that from somewhere)

Rant under cut :)

I keep forgetting that people read these things sometimes and reply to whatever I've written, so whenever that happens I'm like HOW DID THEY KNOW before I realise

I could've posted this two days ago, but I forgot, so here it is :)

I'll learn how to do backgrounds one day, I swear. And shoes. And clothes.

This feels super unfinished (probably the background), but I'm done with it. mostly because the cape started to look like flesh and I don't want to look at that anymore. Wish I could actually draw skin that well but eh. Looking at it now, the fabric of the cape looks weirdly heavy. But I did remember to give him a cape this time, so well done to me. It was very close, though.

I tried lighting!! And trying to contour stuff to shape and stuff!! I like the leg on the left.

I forgot to use a reference, mostly because I just wanted to get this pose out of my head, It's been stuck there for literally seven months and I've never been able to draw it properly without it being stable, if that makes sense.

Also fun fact, the actual image is super dark, because I have somehow made it a habit to colour with my lights off, so this image has an overlay of slightly red light over it :)

Here it is without that, and the colour background I usually draw on because white is too bright for my poor eyes

#freezer drawer #dc fanart #batfam #tim drake #tim drake fanart #red robin dc #red robin #dc

873 notes · View notes

woso-dreamzzz · 2 months ago

Text

Proud IX

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Fridolina Rolfö x Teen!Reader

Summary: After the preseason against Barcelona

Someone is watching you.

It's nothing you can prove, of course. It's nothing you really care that much about either.

You've just managed to draw against Barcelona in a preseason friendly. Of course there would be someone watching. A lot of someones actually but you don't find yourself minding too much as you head over to your parents.

They're on the far side of the pitch, waving to the very few Spanish Bayern fans that have come out to watch the team play.

You wiggle your way between them and Magda's arm automatically comes to rest on your shoulder. She angles her face towards you slightly, a smile on her face as she presses a quick kiss to your hairline.

Pernille takes your hand on the other side and you smile at her, leaning your head against her shoulder.

It feels good to demonstrate your skills.

In front of your new teammates. In front of your new manager. In front of Barcelona, to make them worry when you're on the pitch, to show them they aren't as bulletproof as the fans think they are.

But, right now, all you can do is smile as your sign things for the very few Bayern fans that have come over to watch your team play for them.

"You did very well today," Pernille says to you, squeezing your hand softly.

"Enough for a lamb?"

"You know the rules," Pernille replies with practiced exasperation," You'll have to really impress. Show me you can really care for one."

You huff, putting on a bit of a show.

This is a practiced dance between you and Pernille, a more playful back and forth now that you've moved to Germany. Pernille pretends that she's more opposed to getting a sweet lamb than she actually is and you pretend to be more annoyed than you actually are that you're being refused.

"Oh come on, Pernille!" Magda says from your other side," I really think she's deserved it!"

Magda's also apart of all this teasing. She backs you up, insists that you've already proven yourself despite having never had a pet in your life. The extent of your animal caring abilities is filling up the bird feeder in the garden.

Of course, you've also got that little binder you made a few years ago with how to take care of lambs and sheep and when to sheer them and what to feed them and how you can make them happy.

Pernille had made you make it after she realised you were serious about raising a lamb for yourself.

You update it every so often, just to show her that this isn't something that you've forgotten about.

Arms close around your waist and you shriek as you're lifted into the air.

You can hear Pernille and Magda laugh as you're hoisted up and you flail your legs around when you're airborne for too long.

"Frido!" You shriek," Let me down!"

Frido shakes you, using her height difference against you before unceremoniously dumping you onto the ground.

You roll onto your back, panting with a smile as you look up at her. "That was mean."

"What has the world come to?" She asks no one in particular," That an aunt can't pick up and shake her little niece anymore?"

"I'm not little."

She grins down at you. "I remember you before your growth spurt," She says," You'll always be my little niece."

Frido offers you a hand.

You take it and pull her down.

She shrieks at the sudden force of your pull and falls onto the grass next to you.

You laugh, letting Pernille help you up and dust the dirt off your shirt.

Frido does the same with her own clothes, flicking a stray piece of grass at you that you bat away easily.

"Good game," She says, ruffling your hair," You had us on our toes."

"Just..." You glance behind you, feeling that same prickly feeling of eyes on your back," Just wanted to impress."

"Well, you certainly did that." Frido leans closer, like she's about to tell you a secret. "But I don't think it's just on who you wanted to watch you."

She jerks her chin over your shoulder and you follow her gaze.

Alexia Putellas is by the bench, talking and gesturing wildly over at you to the new Barcelona manager. You don't quite remember his name but you know what he looks like and even from this far of a distance away, you know he's looking straight at you.

"Best hope Bayern put a big price on her release clause," Frido says to your mothers and you feel Magda freeze behind you.

Her mouth dry, she speaks. "What?"

"Just saying," Frido laughs," A performance like that? In preseason? At a club she's just moved to? You and I both know she's a talent. Alexia doesn't really enjoy talents like that outside of Barcelona."

Magda pulls your back against her front, arms hanging over your shoulders. "They can't have her. She's a minor. They need our permission."

"She'll be eighteen soon," Frido reminds Magda.

"Still. They can't force her to come. I won't let them. I just got her back."

"We just got her back," Pernille corrects.

"Besides," You laugh," Momma won't even let me get a lamb yet. I don't think she'll be too happy sending me off to Spain."

Frido laughs, ruffling your hair again. "I think you'll find Barcelona can be quite persuasive when they need to be. How else do you think we got Ewa with us?"

"Dumb luck?"

Frido gasps dramatically. "You know what, young lady? Come here!"

She reaches for you and you duck out of the way, sprinting across the pitch out of her reach.

"You're getting old!" You shout over your shoulder, ducking and weaving through players and staff alike. "Aren't you meant to be a professional athlete?"

You jump over a crate of drinks as Frido trips over them.

You laugh, leaving her in the dirt as another hand reaches for your own.

"Aren't you tired?" Ingrid asks you," You've just played ninety minutes."

You know Ingrid quite well considering you've never played on a team with her.

Pernille and Frido have introduced you two a lot over the years. She's nice to see, someone who is not family but just as nice as them.

"I'm never too tired to humiliate Frido," You answer, turning to look back as Pernille helps Frido up while Magda howls with laughter.

Ingrid rolls her eyes fondly at you, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face.

"Have you met Esmee before? I can't remember."

Either way, Ingrid introduces you to Esmee, who seems nice enough, if a little shy. You can imagine you and her getting on once you're both settled with each other.

"Of course, you know Mapi a bit and this is Aitana. Aitana, this is y/n. She's Magda and Pernille's daughter, Frido's niece."

"Daughter?" The look Aitana wears on her face is one you're always used to when regarding your parentage.

"Adopted," You confirm with a nod. It's always better to explain now than have to deal with the awkward questions as people try to tread around the minefield that's your family situation.

She nods once before speaking. "Do you want to swap shirts?"

"Oh! Er..." You glance behind you where your family is (thankfully) keeping their distance. Still within earshot but not enough to invite themselves into the conversation.

Both of your mothers stick their thumbs up at you.

"Yeah...okay, then."

Like you thought, you and Esmee do get on. You reckon that you wearing a Barcelona shirt (Aitana's Barcelona shirt, you think in the back of your mind) must have settled her a bit. Familiar people with the one unfamiliar one wearing a very familiar colours.

She's nice and speaks well and you almost forget about the prickling feeling of someone watching you until that someone is right behind you.

The little circle you've found yourself in opens up and Alexia Putellas slides into the now empty spot next to you.

Magda moves to approach as well but Pernille holds her back by the back of the shirt.

"Pernille-"

"Let her deal with it," Pernille says," However she wants to do it. We can't coddle her for her whole life."

Magda pouts. "We can try."

"Magda," Pernille continues," She's much more capable than you like to think."

You hope that your eyes aren't as wide in shock as you think they are. it would be embarrassing for Alexia Putellas to remember that expression as the one you wore when you first met her.

"You had a good game," She says to you and you feel your throat go dry.

You force words out anyway. "Th-Thank you."

"A great game, actually," Alexia continues," You're very talented."

"Thank you."

You feel like a broken record, incapable of saying nothing but the same thing over and over again.

"How long have you got on your Bayern contract?"

"Two-Two years."

"Two years? Not three? Or four? For someone of your talent..."

"Oh, er, well, it's meant to finish the same time as my mothers' do."

"Harder and Eriksson's kid, aren't you?"

"And Frido's niece," Ingrid puts in and Alexia nods.

"I thought so. She's never had anything but compliments for you. You used to play for Arsenal as well, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And you joined Sweden for their Euro qualifiers as well. It's nice to see that young talent is being fostered so well."

You laugh a little awkwardly. "Oh, well, I'm not really anything special."

The look Alexia gives you makes it clear she thinks differently. She doesn't refute your claim though, just purses her lips in thought.

"Barcelona has always been good at noticing young talent and putting our faith in them."

"Oh?"

She smiles at you. "Just something to think about. Have you got the same managers as your mothers?"

You nod. "Yeah, Morsa...Er...Magda and I have the same person."

"Excellent." She claps a hand down onto your shoulder. "You should probably warn them about something coming their way soon after that performance today. I hope to see you on the pitch again soon."

With that, Alexia Putellas walks away, right back down the tunnels and you're left hopelessly looking back at her.

You turn back to the little group around you, a group that your family has finally joined again.

"Sorry...What just happened?"

Frido laughs, a casual arm flung over your shoulder.

"That was Alexia speak for 'Barcelona will be trying to buy you from Bayern soon'."

Magda swears. "For fuck's sake!"

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfö #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

498 notes · View notes

jaythes1mp · 3 months ago

Text

Your secrets are ours, kid

Yandere BatFam x Reader — CH10 -> CH9 -> CH8 -> CH7 -> CH6 -> CH5 -> CH4 -> CH3 -> CH2 -> CH1

2048 words, 11528 characters, 130 sentences, 69 paragraphs, 8.4 pages.

With the absence of light and the sudden onslaught of heavy rain, you realise you've stayed out here for a dangerously long time.

You turn around to meet Dick’s gaze, the man standing tall, holding you up an umbrella, wearing a soft grin. His bag, stuffed with clothing and trinkets that miraculously fit your size perfectly that were conveniently "free" from the fair, slung over his shoulder.

"Tired already, little one?" Dick queries, a hint of amusement in his deep voice as he extends his hand out towards you.

"You're going to catch a cold, you know," he noted with a tone of care in his voice. "We should go back before you get sick."

You let out a sigh, taking hold of his hand with a begrudging smile. "I am not tired, thank you very much," you retort, feigning irritation despite the exhaustion evident in your eyes.

With the grip of your hand, he gently pulls you close to him, sheltering you from the relentless rain. His eyes softened at your display of weariness, though he had a feeling you were just being stubborn.

"You don't have to deny it, you know. You look beat."

He chuckled lightly, wrapping his free arm around your waist, his hand resting comfortably on your hip as he guided you along.

“You really should take better care of yourself,” he added, his tone slightly concerned. “Can't have my little bird falling sick on me.”

You raise an eyebrow at the nickname but opt not to mention it, well aware that his concern is the driving force behind the choice of words.

The soft pattering of rain filled the silence as you walked. The rain and chill caused you to press closer to him. He found himself drawing you further into him almost subconsciously — seeking to protect you from the elements and the cold, as though the closer you were, the more shielded you’d be from harm.

"You’re freezing," he noted, feeling the coolness of your skin against his, frowning upon the slight tremble he felt.

“It’s raining.” You reply blankly, snickering softly.

He chuckled at your blasé response. "Ever the master of observation," he retorted, rolling his eyes in feigned annoyance.

"You're also wearing a thin sweater in an icy downpour," he added, glancing down at your attire. "You're practically asking to get sick with that combination."

You raised a brow, nudging against his side. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who chose this sweater.”

He let out a low hum of acknowledgment. "And I stand by my choice," he said, his voice dripping with teasing confidence.

"It looked cute," he explained with a slight shrug, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "The cute factor outweighs the obvious risk of hypothermia."

You shoot him an unimpressed glare. “Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, prick. I’m dying.”

He feigned surprise, hand resting over his heart in mock offence.

"Flattery? Who said anything about flattery?" he retorted, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "I merely stated a fact. That sweater is adorable."

He chuckled but his tone took a more serious turn, a hint of concern seeping in. "And you're hardly dying.. You're just a bit cold. You'll be fine."

Despite his casual tone, you could tell he was worried. He tugged you a little closer, as though his silent way of reassuring you.

"And if you do get sick, trust me, I'll nurse you back to health in no time," he added, his soft smirk returning.

You rolled your eyes, a smirk of your own forming. “Oh, how romantic.” You sarcastically comment.

He chuckled. "Hey, I have many talents," he shrugged, feigning offence. "One of which is being a damn good nurse."

You raised a brow at the comment, leaning back as you felt the rain splatter against your calves. “Aren’t you supposed to be a professor?”

"Assistant." He corrected, his smirk widened into a full-fledged grin. "And what makes you think I can't be both an assisting professor and a damn good nurse, hm?"

He shook his head, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he glanced down at you, the rain dampening your hair. "You look like a wet dog."

You shot him a glare, smacking him half-heartedly. “Well, whose fault is that? If you didn’t drag me out here, we wouldn’t be in the middle of an icy downpour!” you retorted with a scoff.

"Oh, so now it's my fault that the sky decided to piss down today?" he teased, raising a brow.

You were just about to retort, but a loud crash draws your attention away. Both of you turn to see a woman stumble out of the bar, clearly intoxicated. She loses her footing and crashes into the nearby trash can, the loud clamour cutting through the pitter-patter of rain.

You snort, then step out from the umbrella and towards her, moving to check on the woman, but freeze mid-step as you catch a glimpse of her face. The moment you do, your shoulders inadvertently tense, muscles constricting tight instinctively.

Your heart rate spikes as recognition kicks in, and before your brain can fully register what’s happening, your body automatically reacts. You quickly take a step back, only to collide into the solid, unmoving form of the eldest Wayne brother — who you realise, with a hint of surprise, had moved to shield you.

You whirl around, eyes widening in a mixture of panic and disbelief as you grasp the older man’s sleeve. The words spill out of your mouth in a rushed, urgent plea.

“Dick–" you start, voice breaking on the name, "get me out of here, please." Your knuckles turn white from how hard you're gripping his jacket. "Now- now."

He looks from you to the woman then back at you, his jaw tightening. As you grip his jacket tighter, an almost desperate look in your eyes, he nods silently and tugs you closer under the umbrella.

"Alright," he responds, his voice steady and comforting. "Alright. We're going."

You feel like you're drowning, lungs burning as they fail to take in air. The world blurs around you, nothing making sense. Your fingers involuntarily dig into his arm, hanging on desperately as if he’s the only lifeline you have, the panic swelling inside you like a storm. You don't know what’s happening to you.

You're vaguely aware of him saying something, his voice a faint buzz in a sea of noise. But it’s distant, too distant. A rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and every instinct is screaming to run, run, run.

Your entire body is tense, muscles coiled as if ready to pounce at any moment, the animalistic need for survival kicking in. But the world blurs around you — colours bleeding into each other, sounds and shapes melding together, the only thing you are distinctly aware of is him. His presence, his solid figure, his anchoring grip on your body. It’s the only thing grounding you, stopping you from falling into the panic.

He says something again, his voice louder this time, but you can't make out the words. Your heart is thundering in your ears, the roar of the blood rushing through your veins drowning out everything else. He tries to pull you along, gently tugging you away from the woman, and your body follows obediently, feet moving without conscious thought.

As you let him guide you away, a part of you is distantly aware of the look the woman gives you. It’s a look that sends chills through your body — a look that holds no recognition, only a cold, unnerving blankness in her eyes.

Your legs mechanically move one in front of the other, blindly following where he leads. Every step feels like a mile, the adrenaline still pumping, your heart still racing. The rain, previously a monotonous backdrop, now feels like a violent spray of needles against your skin.

“W-whats.. What’s happening? Dick– Dick I can’t- I can’t breathe.”

His jaw tightens further as he feels you stumbling against him, your words breaking out as panicked gasps. He glances down, seeing the sheer terror etched on your face.

"Hey," he says, voice uncharacteristically soft. "Hey, hey, look at me, look at me. It's okay. It's okay.”

His hand goes to your cheek, gently cupping it, his thumb tracing over your skin in an attempt to soothe you.

“I’m here, I’m here. Listen to me, just breathe, alright? Just breathe.” His hand drops down to his pants pockets, shimmying out his phone.

He keeps his other hand on you, fingers gently rubbing at your cheek, grounding you as he taps the screen of his phone.

“You’re okay,” he repeats, eyes never leaving your face. “Just breathe for me. In and out, nice and slow.”

You try to focus on his words, but it’s difficult. Your mind is still racing, your breath coming in short, sharp pants. You’re fighting against your own body, trying fruitlessly to force it to calm down and listen to him.

But your lungs burn as they struggle to draw in a full breath.

Time seems to move in a blur. Everything is a mass of sensations that you can barely register — the cold rain that seeps through your clothing, the cold touch of Dick’s hand against your skin.

You find yourself being ushered into a long, black vehicle, Dick gently guiding you into the back seat before sliding in beside you, shutting the door with a soft click.

He's never seen you like this before. He's seen you cry, seen you angry, seen you determined, but never, never has he seen you so terrified, like this. You're pale, your hands shaking, breath coming out in sharp gasps.

His heart aches as he sees you struggle for breath, fighting against your own body. As he sits beside you in the backseat of the car, he gently grabs your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing it gently. His other hand pulling you close and tucking you into his side.

He murmurs in a low soothing tone, “Just- just breathe. Just focus on my voice. You're safe. If I'd known she'd be there I never would've brought you here, I'm sorry, baby bird.. I'm so sorry.." He presses a kiss against your temple, his hold tightening around you.

Your body is trembling uncontrollably, the panic attack refusing to subside. His hand finds purchase on the back of your neck, fingers massaging the tense muscles there in an attempt to calm you down.

"You're safe. I've got you," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're safe.."

Outside, the rain continues to fall, the sound of raindrops hitting the windowpane providing a strange background track to the situation. He keeps you tucked in against his side, his grip firm but gentle.

Dick's mind was on overdrive. His focus was solely fixated on you, comforting you and trying to bring you back from the brink of your panic attack. But underneath that, there was a simmering rage that threatened to boil over.

His mind went back to the woman — your mother. She wasn't supposed to be here. Tim had promised to keep an eye on her. You were supposed to be safe here.

All that went out of the window the moment he saw you step out from under the umbrella, your body tense and eyes narrowed. He could see you were trying to hold it together, but the moment you realised who it was, everything in you shattered.

A flash of anger ignited in him knowing that the woman caused you so much pain, so much terror.

You were supposed to be safe. That was the whole point. He had given Tim the sole responsibility of keeping your mother at bay, to ensure you never saw her or heard from her again. And yet, here he was, watching you fight a panic attack brought upon by her unannounced presence.

He clenched his jaw, the anger towards her, towards himself, burning bright. You were his little sibling. His baby bird. He was supposed to protect you.

He clenched his jaw, eyes meeting the soft grey ones of Alfred’s through the rearview mirror. His gaze murderous.

Tag list: @zero-s-tea @chemicalsandghosts @yandere-enthusiast @starsdotalk @small-mushroom-fae @wpdarlingpan @dhanyasri @tojislvrr @phoenixgurl030 @mel-star636 @lilyalone @lavender-moony @nickey-diano @sociallyakwardpanda @obsessedwithromance @thickerthanthievescomic @nckcn @xxrougefangxx @th0rn118 @gaozorous-rex-blog @lyl-3 @wtf-am-i-doing-with-my-life-help @snowy-violets @atsukogikoshi @eyeless-kun @soriansick @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @preciouslittlething

Masterlist

528 notes · View notes

clovers-housetree · 5 months ago

Text

Activities for Regressors Without Caregivers! (or just fun regression activties!)

(Although you're always welcome here if you'd like any form of comfort anyway! ^w^)

This one's kind of a long one, after the few tips I list, I've mentioned an app I use called Finch, which will be talked about below the cut.

Since that's the case, I'll put my little ending message here instead:

Knowing how to take care of yourself can take a lot of work and practice, but I believe it's worth the effort, because then you'll be a happier and healthier you! Especially if you can find ways to make it fun!

I'm more than happy to be here for you and offer my support in any way I can, anyhow! I'm proud of you for doing what you can, I know it can be very hard.

I myself don't have a caregiver for when I regress, so most of the time I end up taking care of myself! Here are some fun activities and things I do when I regress to keep myself calm and happy! ^w^

Paci mentions/pics not long after the first section for those of you who'd rather not see 'em.

♥ Arts and crafts! I absolutely LOVE coloring and making bracelets with beads, something not too complicated for little hands, but also something fun!

With coloring, you can buy coloring books, or draw something of your own to color in- even printing out a page you find online, coloring digitally, or tracing over something to color in could work! I prefer coloring more than drawing personally because I don't draw all the time, but I bet I could learn a little thing or two from the artists around here!

For bracelets (and other jewelry), strings can be hard to knot with little hands (at least they aren't those small, slippery clasps!!), but the beads shouldn't be too hard to handle if you're careful! Even just planning out patterns is fun!

Here are some My Little Pony bracelets I made, and the decorations I did for my pacis!

♥ Making playlists! Dancing is fun, and a good way to get the zoomies out, but you can just make playlists for any occasion! I have playlists that help me pet-regress, songs with sounds I like, adventure playlists... (Well- a lot of these are still in progress, but- you get the point!)

I also love those playlist videos on YouTube! Animal Crossing, Super Mario Galaxy, Minecraft and music box music are typically my go-to to help me settle or just make for comfy background music! Here's one of my favorites, shadowatnoon has lovely Nintendo music mixes!

♥ Playing with your plushies! You can take them on adventures, or make your own!

Like Toby, climbing The Great Pillow Mountain!

(This is Toby by the way, he's one of my best friends and a VERY good hugger!)

You can play games with them, too! Toby's REALLY good at hide and seek... Maybe you can find him for me? :0

♥ Finding shows to watch! I really like Paw Patrol and Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles at the moment. Plus, you can look at agere content and fics from shows you like! People make really cool stimboards and moodboards, for example, and I like reading through all the fun stories people write!

Here's a silly picture of Rocky I found! :3

Finch

Finch is a self-care app where you take care of your very own little bird friend by taking care of yourself!

You can set daily goals, or for each day (or more specific ones as well I think.). By completing these goals, you give your bird energy to go on adventures! They usually come back with a funny little story or silly questions, because they're learning, too!

Through completing these goals (or daily, at least), you can get Rainbow Stones, which you can use to buy clothes for your bird, make them different colors, or give them furniture for their house!

They're also LGBTQ+ and disability-friendly!! :3

This is my little bird, Honeydew! You're welcome to friend me as well if you'd like, my code is: Z3E2T7VRK6

It's helped me learn a lot about taking care of myself and keeping track of my goals, and I get little rewards for it! I've used the app for several months now, and it's helped me out a lot!

"Fluttershy protects this blog! SFW interaction only, please and thank you! ^w^"

"Wouldn't show a kid? Doesn't belong here!"

638 notes · View notes

harmoonix · 1 year ago

Text

🎄🎅🏼 Short Astro - Christmas Observations 🎄🎅🏼

🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎄🎅🏼🎄

🎄 - Your 7th house sign can sometimes indicate the season you'll met potential spouses/boyfriend/girlfriend, if you have Sagittarius/Capricorn/Aquarius/Pisces in the 7th house you'll have luck during the winter 🎄

🎄 - Venus aspecting Jupiter harmoniously can give the same vibes as Jupiter in the 7th house = Having luck in their relationships/partners 🎄

🎄 - Vertex in the 8th house can indicate a native who will experience intense things in their lives just as the vibes of Jupiter in the 8th house 🎄

🎄 - Sagittarius/Aquarius Sun/Moon/Rising/Venus/Mars will definitely look for a freedom in the relationship, don't make them feel like a bird in a cage 🎄

🎄 - Cancer Degrees (4°, 16°, 28°) on your ascendant/sun/moon will definitely give a lot of nurturing vibes around the people they are. Like they will truly send this energy to everyone around 🎄

🎄 - Virgo Risings/Virgo Degrees 6°, 18° truly embody the fairy archetype, being seen as someone pure/majestic/innocent and angelic 🎄

🎄 - Pluto aspecting Neptune/Jupiter will always be searching for more. Like if you tell them a secret they will want to know every little detail about it 🎄

🎄 - Moon prominence in a chart really makes a native very beautiful, the native can have an oval face, beautiful looking eyes and shiny skin just like the moon 🎄

🎄 - Usually the people who get really obsessed with others from a early stage have a Taurus/Scorpio Moon, they are seen as the most posesive ones 🎄

🎄 - Leo/Libra/Cancer Venus/Moons are so beauty - centered. Like they always want to look pretty whenever they are 🎄

🎄 - Mars aspecting the Moon can have a short temper of vibe, they can get angry really fast or just feel like exploding 🎄

🎄 - Sometimes 11th house placements/Aquarius heavy in a chart can show an satisfaction/desire/attraction towards gaming 🎄

🎄 - 2nd house stelliums + food are soulmates like they are always thinking about food and hungry 24/7 🎄

🎄 - 12th house placements/stelliums + their bed are also soulmates, these people really love to sleep a lot and I can tell their bed is the perfect spouse 🎄

🎄 - Juno aspecting Neptune can sometimes dream or have specific signs about their spouses/partners. Is like a soul connection in between 🎄

🎄 - Uranus in the 1st house can also have the vibe of people telling or feeling like you are a different person/out of the crowd 🎄

🎄 - Uranus aspecting Mars, beside the naughty things this placement has. It really shows a person who has a lot of ambition towards the things in their lives 🎄

🎄 - Sometimes Pisces/Taurus/Libra Midheaven can indicate a career inclined to arts or in general to possess a talent to arts like painting/drawing etc..🎄

🎄 - The thing with Libra Placements being indecisive is really true. Like Libra embodying the balance yet they can be really indecisive feels really true 🎄

🎄 - Aries/Mars in the 4th house in the Draconic Chart can indicate that your soul already knew how intense your family life is gonna be like. Before the reincarnation 🎄

🎄 - Neptune in the 1st house natives really need to be cautious with who they spend time with so they won't get influenced by the bad people 🎄

🎄 - Scorpio Mercury/8th house Mercury can talk dirty a lot, I know a lot of people with those aspects who talk dirty 24/7 with no break.. sometimes cussing too like wow..😭🎄

🎄 - If you have Gemini or Virgo in the 7th/8th house axis. Please make sure to not fall in love with people who are not able to communicate with you 😭😭 they will ruin your life. Always choose people who can communicate instead 🎄

🎄 - Libra/Leo/ asc or Venus/Moon in the 1st house in the solar return chart indicates a glow up in that special year for you 🎄

🎄 - Neptune aspecting the Moon or Sun have a dreamy energy around them like you'll feel these people are out of the world when you are with them 🎄

🎄 - Aries/Mars in the 3rd house are really good Indicators if you have defend/take care of people and you have these placements 🎄

🎄 - Pluto aspecting Mars/Mars in Pluto in the same house have a powerful energy in them. Is like you really know how powerful they are once you stay/hang around them 🎄

🎄 - Mars in Earth degrees (2°, 6°, 10°, 14°, 18°, 22°, 26°) give boss vibes. They may also have that energy of "boss bitch" too 🎄.

🎄 - Ascendant aspecting Sun (all aspects) wil always shine because of their personality, in general your energy if very welcoming and nice and people love that 🎄

🎄 - 4th house in Cancer/Pisces/Taurus have a welcoming energy in their house is like you enter in a house touched by the heaven 🎄

🎄 - Pisces Uranus / Aquarius Uranus both have highly spiritual abilities, one about the subconscious realm and one about the awareness of the outer world 🎄

🎄 - Capricorn Suns are usually respected in their work environment, like they know how to make other people to respect them 🎄

🎄 - Eros (433) aspecting the Midheaven can indicate that people will see you as someone erotic/highly sexual or attractive because of the energy you tend to give 🎄

🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎄🎅🏼🎄

EARLY HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE 🎄🎁🎁🎄

🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎄🎅🏼🎄🎅🏼🎄🎄🎅🏼🎄

1K notes · View notes