#I hope you had an absolutely wonderful Christmas and I wish you the best into the new year!!!

[sun-e-chips]

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year @laurzzz I was your Secret Santa!!!

Nothing like being cozy by the fire holding a hot drink while it’s cold outside!

[animeomegas]

MtL - Likely to worry if his alpha uses his given name instead of a pet name

(Incl. Iruka, Chouji, Shino, Neji, and Shikamaru.)

A/N: This is a Christmas gift for the wonderful @omeganronpa!!!! It's nothing crazy this year because of the ol' arm situation, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! I wish you a very relaxing and merry Christmas and want you to know that I am honoured to have lived yet another year with you as my friend <3333

And a very merry Christmas and happy Hanukkah to everyone!! 🎉

Warnings: Non-descriptive allusions to sex.

LEAST

Chouji

A normal, well adjusted king, we stan.

Pet names sometimes come into the relationship, but Chouji is equally okay with being called Chouji.

That's his name, why should he worry or feel weird? He doesn't have a guilty conscience like some others on this list 👀

In fact, he actually loves to hear his name from your lips. The soft voice, the love, the sing song tone. He revels in it.

There's something about you using his given name with him in private that makes him feel seen. You see him, all of him, the real him, and you love him.

And that's the most precious gift he could have.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: His name or babe usually. Occasionally, super sweet ones like sweetheart or sugarplum, said with complete earnest.

Neji

Neji also likes to go by his actual name a lot of the time, so it doesn't raise any red flags for him to hear it fall from your lips.

Much like Chouji, he finds it entirely logical for you to use his given name, and he never assumes you're mad at him.

I only put him a bit higher on the list because he can sometimes get finickity about what you call him in bed.

If you call him by his real name, but you don't use a super gentle, loving tone, he doesn't like it and he WILL get grumpy.

It makes him feel a bit unloved, like the sex is transactional and you're just saying what you think you have to say.

He wants you to call him darling, prince, my love, or any other classic pet name when you're ravishing him, and if you have to use his name, it better be whispered into his skin with hushed reverence befitting the worship of a god.

Otherwise he can sometimes get upset. And because he's Neji, he won't say why he's upset, he'll just pout about it until you notice.

This issue doesn't crop up that often, but it's been known to happen, hence his slightly higher ranking on the list.

My beautiful princess with a disorder, please talk to me.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: He adores the classic but slightly fancier pet names, such as darling, my love, prince(ss). And he's always willing to accept appearance based names, like beautiful, too.

Iruka

When it's just the two of you, or you're in the presence of close friends or family, you always call him Ruka.

Because he's your Ruka at home, just like he's Iruka sensei at the academy, or 'the shouty chunin' at the missions desk.

So it absolutely stands out if you suddenly call him Iruka and he will notice straight away.

But he's still on the terrifyingly small list of mostly well-adjusted shinobi, so he's not going to panic.

He kind of assumes that you're starting a conversation about something more serious when you use his full name. He zones in, fully focused, ready to problem solve whatever has happened.

This has the unfortunate consequence of snapping him out of intimate moments when you use his full name.

Iruka sat on the bed trying his best not to fidget with the comforter as he stared at the bathroom door. His mind was racing with possibilities and no amount of deep breathing or internal arguments about restraint were controlling them.

It had been an entirely normal day ten minutes ago. He'd taught his classes, covered for a few hours at the mission's desk for a sick colleague, and then stopped by a convenience store on the way home so that he didn't have to cook.

Not that you let him in the kitchen anyway.

But then you'd approached him, all coy smiles and well-placed touches, telling him that you had a surprise for him, but that you needed a few moments to get changed and that he should wait on the bed.

So now he was here, on the bed as directed, eagerly anticipating the opening of the ensuite door. Should he get undressed in preparation? No, no, that would probably be weird. But maybe he should take his hair down? Yes that sounded good; you loved his hair down and it would give him something to do while he waited.

He pulled it down and spent a few moments running his fingers through it and trying to arrange it as best he could, but then it was done and you still hadn't opened the door.

He just needed to be patient, you shouldn't be much longer.

Although that was easier said than done when his underwear was becoming uncomfortably wet.

There! He could hear shuffling approaching the bathroom door. He straightened himself out, ready.

"Iruka?" you called from behind the door.

He blinked as he registered his full name. Oh no. Don't tell him something had gone wrong. He was so looking forward to this! His mind conjured images of disaster. Maybe the outfit had ripped? Or you had accidentally hurt yourself? Or the sink had broken and was now spewing water everywhere.

"What's wrong?" he asked, getting up from the bed and approaching the door. "Are you okay?"

The door opened, and you stood on the other side, blinking at him in confusion. He tried not to focus too much on the new lingerie. There was a problem to solve first, he couldn't get distracted.

"Yes?" you answered, the question clear in your voice. "Why are you at the door? I told you to wait on the bed."

Before his mind could catch up, he asked, "Is the sink broken?"

There was a pause.

"Why on earth would the sink be broken?" You sounded entirely baffled.

"Well, I'm not sure, but-"

"Did you do something to the sink?"

"No!" he defended, crossing his arms over his chest. "I haven't touched the sink."

"Then why are you asking about it???"

"Because... because..." Iruka paused when he realised how stupid it would sound to explain that he'd assumed something was wrong because you called him by his full given name. He rubbed at his scar bashfully. "It doesn't matter, sorry, I was being... never mind, don't worry about it."

You blinked at him, and he coughed awkwardly.

"Okaaaaaay," you drawled, stepping back into the bathroom. "Should I close the door again and pretend this never happened?"

"Please."

"Right."

And when you opened the door this time, he was waiting on the bed, stunned speechless by your lingerie and ready to end his normal day in a particularly extraordinary way, bathroom sink forgotten.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: Ruka is his favourite by a wide margin. He doesn't mind babe or baby either, nor omega specific names.

Shino

If you're in public, he fully expects you to use his actual name.

In fact, it's for the best that you do, because pet names in public will make him embarrassed enough to try and hide in his coat.

But when you're at home, just you and him... he will immediately assume you're upset with him or signalling a need for space if you use his given name.

Because Shino basks in the loving pet names you lavish him with. He doesn't have to be Shino with you, or at least, he doesn't have to just be Shino with you. He can be your love, your honey bun, your sunshine.

Every time one of those names is whispered in his ear or spoken against his lips, Shino squirms in pure joy. There is nothing else that can brighten his day so quickly and effectively.

And you can absolutely get creative with pet names for Shino!

Excluding the most ridiculous ones, and some of the appearance based ones, Shino loves them all.

But calling him his name is :(((

He will anxiously and sadly wring his hands together every time 🥺

You let out a relieved breath through your nose as you finished the penultimate page of the paperwork you'd been forced to bring home.

One more. Just one more and you were free for the evening, then you could run it by the jounin commander tomorrow morning, and this whole situation could be behind you.

Work disasters were the absolute worst.

You took in one more big breath before letting it out slowly. One more. You could do one more.

But just as your pen was about the make contact on the paper, movement from the corner of your eye drew your attention out of the little paperwork bubble you'd cocooned yourself in. It was Shino. He was lurking in your periphery like a shadow, idly rearranging knick knacks on the shelf but glancing over in your direction every five seconds.

Now that you were aware of him, you were also aware of the anxiety swirling in his scent. You may have wanted to get this paperwork done and out of your life as soon as possible, but you could hardly ignore your mate's unusual behaviour now that you had been made aware of it.

"Shino?" His head snapped to you instantly. "Are you okay?"

He dropped the eye contact and went back to fiddling with a rock from the shelf. "I'm fine," he said simply, the lie extremely obvious.

"Shino..." To your surprise, he flinched. What?

"I'm... fine." The lie was somehow even more obvious this time. He was either consciously or subconsciously hoping to pull your attention onto him with a lie so blatant.

You stared at him intently, trying to figure out what was wrong. Why would he...?

Oh. Your face relaxed into understanding when you figured out what you'd done.

"What's wrong, lovebug?" You made an effort to push as much affection into your tone as you could. He looked at you again, some surprise colouring his gaze. You patted the seat next to you on the couch in invitation. He immediately accepted, coming over in quick steps and slotting himself against your side. You pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "Is this better, lovely?"

Shino hummed gently, resting his head in the juncture of your shoulder. You grumbled a comforting noise to reassure him.

"I think this paperwork kept me in work mode even after I'd got home," you explained. "I forgot that it was just us here."

Shino hummed again, acknowledging and forgiving you in one noise.

"All the more reason to get this paperwork over and done with so we can relax. It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes. Is that alright, honey bun?"

He purred his approval, so you returned to the paperwork, but this time, you had one hand focused on holding your omega.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: Anything extremely cute and sweet will make him melt. Honey, sweetie, lovely, etc. Lovebug is one of his special favourites 🤭

Shikamaru

Two words: Guilty Conscience.

He's another one who goes by a shortened name by default, Shika, so calling him Shikamaru will immediately grab his attention.

And he will assume he's in trouble with you every single time.

Sometimes it's pretty funny to watch, but other times his stomach drops and his mind races to try and figure out what you could be mad about.

And during those dramatic times, because Shikamaru can't be normal for even five minutes, he oftentimes jumps to worse case scenarios where he's failing to make his obsession happy and you might leave him because of it.

You never know which response you're going to get when you call him Shikamaru. He's either going to claim his innocence in regards to an imaginary misstep, or Panic™️.

The only exception to the rule is during moments of heightened emotions and extreme vulnerability.

For example, if he's very sad, saying "oh, Shikamaru..." will push him over the edge into tears immediately.

And groaning out his full name at the moment of your orgasm is a one hit K.O. for him without fail.

If you want to avoid the Nara dramatics, better stick to Shika most of the time 😉

"Shikamaru?" He heard your voice clearly from his position on the tatami mats of his office where he was playing a solo game of shogi. Usually, hearing your voice after a long day was a balm that soothed the nerves he hadn't even realised had been frayed, but now, those same nerve ends were crackling with the beginnings of anxiety.

Oh no.

You had used his given name. That couldn't mean anything good.

Shikamaru uncrossed his legs and stood from the floor as his mind raced. He could see the situation clearly in his head. You had come home from work, exhausted, and immediately been confronted by some kind of chore or errand that Shikamaru has said he would run on his day off and then fucking forgot about like he always did! Now you were going to be annoyed with him and his plans for a peaceful evening would go up in smoke because he couldn't even remember what he was supposed to be apologising for.

He heard your footsteps coming up the stairs. "Shikamaru? You in your office?"

Think, think, think! What did you ask him to do? There must have been something! Probably something you could have seen not long after walking through the door, likely in the living room or kitchen.

Shikamaru tugged on his ponytail in frustration as your footsteps reached the landing, just outside his door.

Did he have to wash the cushion covers in the living room? No, he did that last week and there was no need to do them again so soon. Did he promise to make dinner in time for your arrival home? No, no, he specifically remembered you saying that you were going to cook dinner together tonight. Then what could it possibly-

As the door swung open, the answer struck him like a bolt of lightning.

"There you are! Why are you just standing in the middle-"

"I didn't buy soy sauce!" Shikamaru blurted, his voice much louder than he had intended.

You jumped at his shout, blinking at him in surprise. Shikamaru felt the rush of heat that flooded his cheeks. He awkwardly cleared his throat and tried again.

"I forgot to buy soy sauce today." He managed to keep his voice somewhat level this time. "I'm sorry. Really, I didn't mean to forget, it's completely my fault."

Shikamaru tried to analyse your face to see how well his apology had landed, but all he saw was confusion. Right, that made sense. You were confused as to why he was apologising when he should be just going out to fix it.

"Sorry, I'll go and grab some now, it shouldn't take long." When he tried to move past you, you grabbed his arm and halted him.

"You forgot to buy- what? No, I only asked in a 'if you happen to go out today' kind of way, you don't have to go out now, it's not a big deal." You squeezed his arm. "Relax, it's fine."

"But, but we're going to cook dinner together tonight," Shikamaru protested.

"And we'll live without soy sauce for one night." You stared at his face, eyes narrowed like you were trying to solve a puzzle. "What's got into you today?"

Shikamaru's thoughts whirled for a moment, trying to figure out if that question was some kind of trap that would soon reveal the real reason you were upset with him. But soon the energy needed to keep up that level of questioning collapsed, and instinctively, he moved to directness.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked, hating the insipid imagery of needy omegas that jumped to mind at the question. This was so stupid, what was he doing?

Your brows furrowed and you gently cupped his face in your hands. Shikamaru shivered as you ran your thumbs against the space underneath his eyes.

"No," you said softly. "Did you think I was?"

His mouth feels dry all of a sudden and he can't form the words, so he just nods. You coo at him, a deep noise in your throat, and Shikamaru is embarrassed at how well it drains the stress from his muscles.

"I'm not angry, Shika. I'm so happy to be home with you, my love."

With your use of his shortened name, the last anxious fog clears and Shikamaru is left only with the stark and sudden realisation that he was being absolutely ridiculous.

You must have noticed the clarity returning to his eyes because you laughed. You laughed at him, all gleeful and knowing. The heat returned to his cheeks and he dropped his head onto your shoulder.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything." He could hear the smile in your voice.

"These instincts are more trouble than they're worth."

"You're such a liar, Shika."

Yeah... yeah, he was.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: Shika is the go-to, but as long as the pet name is simple and mostly serious (babe, omega etc.) he's fine with it. If you call him something ridiculous like pookie or nugget, he will assume you are making fun of him. And if you aren't making fun of him, he'll make fun of you for thinking it was a good idea.

MOST

[margowritesthings]

I'll Be Home for Christmas (If Only in My Dreams)

A Christmas gift for @cassidylynnj <3

Being shut away in a safehouse wasn't exactly how you wanted to spend this Christmas, but somehow Steve and Bucky manage to bring some festive cheer to you.

pairing: Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes word count: 5520 words warnings/tags: starts out a little sad, flirty Bucky, ever so slight suggestive language, brief mentions of passed loved ones/grief, lots and lots of festive fluff tbh authors note: Happy belated Christmas! I wrote this as a fic exchange with my wonderful friend @cassidylynnj. A lot of this was completely new to me, including writing Steve, but I loved creating it! I hope y'all have had a lovely, restful season and I wish you all the absolute best for 2025!

Christmas divider by @saradika-graphics

Endless white nothing. 

It’s been 3 weeks since that day, when Bucky showed up at your work with a packed bag and a deep line between his brows, ushering you out and promising to explain when you got there. Where there is, you’re still not sure. James drove for hours, and once it got dark, it was difficult to decipher any road signs. He dodged every question, though you spotted that wince he couldn’t hide every time you asked how long you were going to be gone. Your heart sank a little, your Christmas shopping list still lying discarded on the kitchen island now. 

The two of you drove deep into the woods, the headlights the only things leading the way around winding paths and douglas firs. Steve was already waiting for you at the cabin, so secluded you’re sure somebody threw a dart at a map to decide where to build the thing. Bucky always was harder to read, but the second you saw Steve’s face, you knew something was horribly wrong. The tension in his jaw, the way neither of them could properly look you in the eye in case they saw just how sad you were and caved. They told you everything, taking it in turns to divulge all the terrible, awful details, but you could hardly concentrate over the ringing in your ears. The short of it was this: Avenger’s loved ones were being targeted and people were getting hurt. Laura Barton had been attacked on her own farm, and somebody had shown up at Morgan’s school. The others were taking precautions and Steve and Bucky weren’t planning on being exceptions. You’d stay here, in hiding, while other family members of Avengers were scattered around the globe until they neutralised the threat. This little cabin in the woods was to be your home… for as long as it took. 

The first week was almost peaceful. Steve and Bucky came and went between watch shifts and meetings, and even though you had to ditch your phone on the way here, it kind of felt like a detox. None of the noise of daily life, a forceful break from social media, not even the mad Christmas rush at work. The log cabin was small, but cozy. Draughty, but the boys made sure the fireplace was always stoked. Completely isolated, but a little bubble that Steve and Bucky visited to cuddle and eat with you and every so often stay over. Sometimes, it’d just be one, but occasionally you’d be lucky enough to get squished up between the two of them while they showed you just how grateful they were that you were safe. There was even a stunning view, picturesque trees dusted with snow, tiny flakes falling from the sky. 

But as bubbles often do, it burst. One week turned to two which turned to three, the possibility of going home for Christmas becoming bleaker. Your boys got busier with the mission, the visits got fewer and farther between, and suddenly you found the days dragging, the worry getting so much more intense and harder to ignore. The snow fell heavier, until the vivid green leaves were swallowed up and the ground was so thick with it you could no longer see the deer tracks.

Which brings you here. With your forehead pressed against the window, your breath fogging up the cold glass. It’s all you can see. Endless white nothing. Your mind is churning, as it often does by this window. Worrying about damn near everything, missing your family, wondering just how long they can keep you cooped up in here. No, that isn’t fair. You’re here for your own safety, you know that. Steve and Bucky are doing everything they can to keep you alive, as are the rest of the team. You’re so grateful, of course you are, but it’s not all that easy. The lonely days can drag, the whistling wind sometimes the only reprieve from an unforgiving silence. At first, you tried to write, reframing this whole ordeal as some sort of retreat, but your muse quickly depleted around the same time your festive spirit and optimism did, making it oh so difficult to tell the difference between the empty page in front of you and the snowstorm outside. 

Thoughts drift to home as you pull your knees up to your chest, hugging them in tightly. Wondering if your loved ones have finished their Christmas shopping, if your cousin has matched her ribbons to her wrapping paper again or if your nephew has gone to meet Santa yet. Thinking about the cookies you were so looking forward to making everyone, the new cutters you bought probably collecting dust in the drawer right now.

You’re debating if your neighbour has opened the packages you ordered when the wind breaks through the doorway, almost killing the quickly dwindling fire as Steve and Bucky both bundle inside. Though they bring a chill in with them, the warmth you feel at the sight of them seems to thaw a little of that wretched numbness growing in you. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you stand to greet them, feeling the blood rush back into your toes now that you’re not scrunched in on yourself.

“Missed you, sweetheart,” Bucky mumbles first over the thick collar of his coat, “You doin’ alright?” He sets the logs he’s carrying down by the fireplace, coming back to wrap his arms around you and place a kiss on your forehead. You nod, though Bucky doesn’t look convinced as his eyes scan over your features. 

Steve discards his portion of firewood in the same pile as Bucky’s, your body instinctively turning to his when he comes for his kiss. He blows into his hands for a moment, breath warming his palms just enough to take the edge off when he cups your cheeks to raise your face up to his. Your lips meet in a tender kiss, while Bucky’s hands fall to your hips. Somehow, even though they’re fresh from a snowstorm, they’re two pillars of warmth. Some of the heaviness clinging to you dissipates instantly.

“You’re freezing, angel,” Steve almost scolds, glancing over to the fireplace. “You been sitting here all morning?” 

When he lets go of your cheeks to go and fix the fire, you nod again, needing to clear your stuck throat before you can speak actual words for the first time since they were last here. “There’s not much else to do,” You explain simply, trying not to sound so ungrateful for your safety. “I missed you both, though.” 

“We missed you so much, doll,” Bucky whispers into your ear, his breath tickling the shell as he pulls you into him from behind. “You’ve gotta keep that fire going, though, baby. This storm ain’t a joke.” 

You hold back a scoff. As if you didn’t know, as if that storm isn’t the only thing keeping you company lately. A shrug of your shoulders as you tilt your head to the side to let Bucky pepper kisses on your neck. Steve takes no time at all to revive the fire, expert hands working to warm the room back up. 

Soon, the three of you are bundled on the sofa, blanket draped over all six legs and thirty toes. Bucky has his warmer arm around you, while Steve draws gentle circles and swirls in the thighs you’ve draped over his. Right now, you’re right where you belong, sandwiched between your boys. It’s enough to drive away all those lonely thoughts. Enough to be completely content for now. 

You’re trying so hard not to think about the fact that, even though they’ve just got here, they’ll eventually have to leave again. So lost in trying to enjoy the here and now that you completely miss the worried glances Steve and Bucky are sending over your head, debating who’s going to be the one to ask without having to say a single word. A language built upon nearly a century of connection you often feel honoured to exist in the middle of. 

The circles on your leg still, which pulls your attention to Steve. He shifts in his seat. Clears his throat.

“So how are you, sweetheart? Really, I mean… I know it’s not easy, but-”

“I’m fine. Really, I’m fine,” you answer too soon, suddenly not able to look either of them in the eye. You don’t want to complain, don’t want to be any more of a bother than you already feel when all of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes are working to protect you while you rattle around in here. 

“Talk to us, doll…” Bucky implores, pulling you closer into him, “We’re worried about you. Can’t help if you shut us out”

“Don’t be,” you plead, finally dragging your eyes up to meet his, hating the concern you see written on both their faces, “I’m okay. I just…” feel lonely while you’re out risking your lives to protect me, miss the christmas tree while my life is in danger? Your throat tightens. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Steve says softly, his palm now splayed across your thigh and squeezing gently, “You don’t have to carry this on your own.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Bucky adds, pressing a kiss atop your head. His too kind words make you flinch away. 

“You’re doing enough for me. For all of us. You don’t need to be worrying about me missing a stupid Christmas tree on top of all that.” You’re embarrassed that you’ve even said it aloud, even though you know the issue runs much deeper than that. Bucky and Steve’s eyes both flicker between you and each other, while you wish the ground would just swallow you up whole in punishment for your outburst. 

“Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just… not so easy, being alone like this all the time. I miss everyone, miss my friends, my family… my little flat with the Christmas lights I put up and that tree we decorated together… I know I must sound insane, thinking about all this trivial, meaningless stuff while people are in so much danger. I just can’t help it when I’m up here all on my own.” 

You watch Steve deflate in real time, his shoulders sinking as he processes your words. He pulls his hand out from under the blanket, grabbing yours to bring it to his lips. The kiss is tender and warming on your skin and it makes your chest ache. Even amongst all this, they always find kindness. 

“You’re not insane, baby. Not even close,” Bucky whispers into your hair, “and we’re so sorry you have to go through this.”

Tears well in your eyes at his apology. “No, no, please don’t apologise. I know you’re doing everything you can and I’m so so grateful and-”

“Hey, hey… it’s alright,” Steve soothes, his voice steady. “We know how grateful you are. But we’re also sorry. What you’re going through right now is tough, sweetheart, and it breaks my heart every time we have to leave. Trust me when I tell you we’re going as fast as we can so me and Buck can get you back home. With us. Where you belong.”

The picture forms so clearly in your mind. In your own bed, squished between two heated bodies, hard muscles and soft skin and long nights and slow kisses and all the time in the world. No stolen moments between missions, checking the clock and watching on alert every time a deer stalked past. You’d like that. Very much so. 

“She’s right though, Steve,” Bucky starts, fingers absentmindedly running through a little section of hair fallen free from your ponytail, “it is depressing as shit in here. I’ve seen barracks more festive than this.”

Steve’s frown forms at Bucky’s choice of language, but it settles into the lines in his forehead as he looks around the palace you’ve tried so hard to call home these last weeks. It’s pretty bare, with each piece of furniture a different soulless shade of grey. A far cry from the festive sanctuary you’d left behind.

Fingers still entwined in yours, Steve straightens his spine and leans forward in his seat. 

He pulls a genuine laugh from you for the first time in days when he says, “It is depressing as shit.”

They stayed for as long as they possibly could, talking through everything with you until that heaviness on your chest was replaced with a quiet hope. You kissed them both and saw them out, waving them off until they were tiny dots in the snow. Missing the plans that formed on their cold walk back to base. 

You feel refreshed after talking so openly with Steve and Bucky, determined to approach the rest of your time here with optimism and kindness to yourself. Keep the fire stoked, get dressed every day, keep your daily gratitudes. Make the best of what you have, especially when your boys are here. Stay strong. If not for yourself, then to make this all worth it.

You’re folding paper you’d found in a cupboard into a makeshift journal when you first hear muffled voices. It startles you, expecting neither Steve nor Buck to be back with you so soon and deducing the origin must be something violent. You stand, survival instinct making you wield a nearby pen as some sort of magic wand as your defense from the intruder. As the voices get louder, panic sets in and numbs your tongue. The door swings open, revealing the very tip of a… tree?

“I really don’t think this is gonna go through the doorway, Buck.”

“It’ll fit. We’ll make it fit.”

“I’ve heard that before.” “Yeah, and haven’t I always made it fit?” 

You can feel the glare Steve is throwing Bucky through the wall of the cabin, no x-ray vision required. You lower the pen to your side as your curiosity takes over, walking you to the doorway. Sure enough, your boys are back, standing on either end of a huge douglas fir, snow still clinging to its leaves that shake off onto the porch.

“Hey, doll.” Bucky stands up front, gripping the top of the tree with his vibranium hand while waving with the other. He grins like a kid at… well, Christmas. “Couldn’t stay away from ya’. Figured we’d bring you a little something to cheer you up.”

“A little something? That thing is huge.” You retort, the smile on your face betraying the accusation in your voice.

“Bigger’s better.” Bucky smirks, raising and lowering his eyebrows suggestively. You’re giggling, so hard you almost miss Steve grumble from the back end of the tree.

“Yeah, yeah, Buck, your dick is huge. We know. Can we get this thing inside before we let all the cold in?” 

Somehow, in Bucky’s infinite wisdom, they do make it fit, and are pulling the very base of the tree through the doorway when you can finally get your hands on them. The cold clinging to both of them bites at your skin but you don’t care as you drag them both closer to you.

“I didn’t think I’d see either of you again today… Especially not with a big ass Christmas tree. What’s going on?”

“Couldn’t stand to see you so sad, sweetheart. There’s not much we can do about being stuck here, but you said you missed Christmas so we figured we’d bring a little Christmas to you.” Steve presses a kiss to the top of your head as you snuggle into them, only now noticing the backpacks they’re both carrying too. 

“There’s not much to work with out here, so we had to go old school,” Bucky explains, pulling away from the hug briefly to shrug his bag off his shoulder and drop it next to the tree.

“It’s traditional,” Steve counters, almost scolding in his tone. “Christmas like when me and Buck were kids.”

“Same thing.” Bucky shrugs, while your gaze falls to the tree taking up nearly half the space of your cabin.

“Did… did you cut this down just now?”

“Ain’t no tree store in the middle of nowhere, doll.” 

You roll your eyes at Bucky’s smart mouth, playfully pinching his bicep before breaking away from them to get a better look at the tree. It really is ridiculously large and you’re 90% sure it won’t even stand without bending at the ceiling, but your heart still aches at the thought of what Bucky and Steve have done for you. The thought of them bickering out there in the snow, wanting to find you the very best one to put a smile back on your face has your cheeks straining. 

“And… What's in the bags? If I even dare ask.” The grin is unstoppable now as you watch Steve and Buck take off their coats and shake the snow from themselves..

“Supplies, of course.” Buck teases, kissing your cheek on his way to the kitchen, “200, right?” 

“200,” Steve confirms to Bucky, picking up both bags before you get the chance of a sneak peek. “Patience, baby.” He winks, playful, boyish grin lighting his face up. 

“200 what?” You follow them both into the kitchen, finding Bucky fiddling with the oven while Steve unpacks both bags out onto the island. So far, you can spot some twine, matches, and a tinfoil parcel that you think might be popcorn.

“Degrees,” Bucky says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You didn’t eat all those oranges, did you?” 

He looks relieved when you slowly shake your head no, your mind whirring to catch up with your surroundings. Popcorn, oranges… old school, Bucky had said.

“We’re making Christmas decorations?” You guess, hope and excitement blending into a smile that makes it all worth it for Steve and Buck.

“Clever girl.” Bucky praises, as Steve starts pulling an assortment of candles and tealights from the second bag. There’s a whole pile of stuff now: pomegranates, candy canes, newspapers, even-

“Is that an iPod Nano??” The astonishment in your voice is clear as you pick the little purple device up, the screen lighting up in your palm. An old school Christmas, indeed.

Steve looks a strange mixture of proud and somewhat confused when he pulls out a portable speaker and adds, ”Bruce set it up for us. Says it’s completely untraceable, but he put all the Christmas songs on there. Every single one.” 

He’s not wrong. You spin your thumb around the pressure pad, watching Earth’s entire festive discography flash before your eyes. Everyone from Mariah Carey to Nat King Cole. Emotion wells in your chest, forms tears that sit on your waterline. This is too much. Everything they’re already doing for you, and now this? Working so hard to keep you happy. 

“You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble, you know you’re doing enough…” You mumble, watching both frowns develop simultaneously. Gods, you don’t want to sound so ungrateful again, but it’s hard sometimes not to feel like such a burden when two supersoldiers wait on you hand and foot.

“And miss Christmas with our favourite girl? I don’t think so.” Bucky weaves around the island to find his way to you and Steve. You feel the cold pinch of vibranium on flesh as he takes your hand to bring it up to his lips. He lowers his voice, “you know we’d go to the ends of the Earth for you, doll. Pulling down a tree or two is nothing.”

And you know he means it. They both do. They’d tear the multiverse apart for you, spend their Christmas swapping watch duties to keep you safe, even find you a freaking iPod Nano in the grand old age of 2024. You look between them, finding such honesty and love in their eyes your heart hurts.

That smile starts to warm you from the inside out again as you clutch the Nano tight to your chest. It might actually be your favourite Christmas present ever. 

“You ready to bring a little Christmas cheer to this place, angel?” Steve asks, hand cupping the back of your head. You nod, unable to actually stop smiling now they’ve convinced you that you’re worth all this and more. 

“So ready.” You dock the iPod, while Steve and Bucky both gently caress your back through your cable jumper. The moment is so tender and perfect and-

“YOU’RE HERE, WHERE YOU SHOULD BE-” Kelly Clarkson screeches, making all three of you jump an inch. Now shaking fingers quickly manage to shut the song off, leaving you with the residue of Bucky’s laughter ringing in the air. You can’t help but giggle too, watching two of the world’s bravest heroes startled by an American Idol.

“Sorry, sorry. Modern Christmas music is not the vibe, noted.” You hold your hands up in a mock surrender before turning back to the speaker dock. “Wait, hang on, I think it’s sorted by year…” you think aloud, scrolling all the way back to the top. To the likes of Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald. 

Dulcet tones fill the space between your bodies when you press play, classic strings melting into the honeyed, mellow voice of Bing Crosby telling the three of you to have yourselves a merry little Christmas. The room feels warmer already, absolutely nothing to do with the roaring fire and everything to do with the love woven into this gesture the boys have done for you. You feel so seen, so known, so unbelievably loved it almost hurts. 

“Thank you so much for this. Both of you.”

“Don’t thank us yet, doll. Not before we’ve actually managed to get that tree up and standing,” Bucky jokes, eyes now flickering between the fir and the space it should be filling. 

First things first, though, the oranges. 

“You’ve gotta have them in at the lowest heat for about 2 hours,” Steve explains, slicing the fruit on a board while you lay the pieces on a baking tray. You’ve never done anything like this, most of your ornaments back home hand-me-downs from family or bought at Bryant Park. There’s something really special about it, though, being taught how by men who lived in a world before tacky glittery Christmas abominations took over the world.

“And they have to be the same thickness, or else they’ll dry unevenly,” Steve adds. You look to Bucky just in time to catch his playful eye roll.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Bucky taunts, saluting the Captain (of orange slices) with a stupidly serious expression on his face. You hold your giggle best you can, batting Buck lightly on his metal arm. 

“Hey! Leave him alone,” you scold, lacking any sort of conviction when you let him pull your back up against his chest.

As Steve finishes up slicing the last orange, you start to lay the slices on the tray. They both watch you fondly, Steve thinking aloud, “I used to do this with my Ma before the war. She taught me all the tricks.”

You can just see it now: a little Steve meticulously watching to make sure each piece of the garland was sliced evenly.

“We did it too,” Bucky adds, “but me and Becks just fought over who got to eat the leftover slices.”

There’s a moment where each heart in the room aches for those who aren’t, who can’t be. You wish you could have met their families, Steve’s mother, Bucky’s little sister, and thanked them for making your boys just the way they are. Steve and Bucky long for the same, think about how much they’d all truly love you. The moment passes slowly, softly, fondly. Sealed with a kiss Bucky presses to your temple from behind and one from Steve on your knuckle.

The smell of citrus still hangs in the air by the time Steve and Bucky are bickering over the tree, orange slices now drying out in the oven. You’ve been set on paper chain duty, watching them both from the couch as you cut bits of paper up into neat strips. It’s pretty much your own personal sitcom, Steve currently the only one holding the tree while Bucky looks on.

“Yeah, no. A little more to the left, actually. No, the other left. My left,” he sneers, earning a huff from Steve. He lifts the thing with ease, but by the eighth adjustment you’re not sure how long before the thing might be thrown across the room. 

“I think it’s perfect right there,” you quickly add, your eyes following the branches upwards to see the tip of the tree bend at a right angle across the ceiling. “...Absolutely perfect.” 

You mean it, too. It’s way too big for this room, shedding pine needles all over the place and has a definite tilt to its posture, but you’ve never seen a more beautiful tree in all your life… You just hope it stays upright till New Year.

Steve takes full credit for the tree, ‘since I did all the heavy lifting’, while Bucky tries to claim the title of project manager. One look at you, wrapped in masses of colourful, masterful paper chains, and they both know who’s really the boss here. Which is why they both follow your carefully thought out delegations in the kitchen. 

“Why does Steve get the fun job?” Bucky whines, frowning at the pomegranate you’ve handed him as if it has personally offended him.

“Because I don’t trust you with the popcorn,” you answer, narrowing your eyes. “Or an open flame,” Steve adds, earning a swat from Bucky.

“It’s a precise science,” Steve explains to you, as if he’s creating a new supersoldier serum in a lab rather than cooking popcorn. One hand holds the handle of the pot, the other keeps the lid closed as he slowly shakes the kernels around the flame.

You don’t need to be looking at Bucky to know he just rolled his eyes. You’ve seen him throw a bag into the microwave and forget about it on more than one occasion, leaving your apartment to smell like burn for days to come. Really, you didn’t mind. Every time you came home, it made you think of him. 

“Sure it is, Captain Kernel.” Buck mumbles, hitting the back of the pomegranate so hard he dents the rind and sends seeds shooting across the room. You pull one from your hair as you turn to him, soft laugh ringing through the room.

“I thought I was Captain Oranges? You can’t keep reusing the same jokes, pretty boy.”

“Sure I can. It’s Christmas,” Bucky argues with a ridiculous pout, reaching to pull another seed from your hair and popping it in his mouth before pulling you closer, a sticky mess of pomegranate juice waiting for you when you get there.

“Bucky!” You shriek, squirming in his arms as he laughs, utterly unrepentant. 

“You all good over there, baby? Need me to stage a rescue?” Steve hasn’t stopped shaking the pan, never disrupting the rhythm, though he has leaned in closer to listen out for any pops over the squealing.

“Oh, she’s fine,” Bucky answers before you can, still pressing sticky, pomegranate kisses to whatever skin he can reach. “Just a little sticky.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Barnes,” you grumble, wiping some of the juice from your cheek with the back of your hand.

“You’re damn right I’m lucky,” he quips, with a cocky grin, loosening his grip just enough to let you squirm free, though not before stealing one last kiss. 

When the corn is popped and the seeds are neatly in a bowl (your own doing), it’s time for the thread. This step does little more to capture Bucky’s attention than the fruit bashing did. He quickly gets distracted with trying to eat as much as he can and inappropriately touching you and Steve, both of which he manages quite a lot of. It’s a delicate task that takes enough time to bring the iPod through to the 50s and into the songs the boys aren’t so familiar with. Still classics, like Eartha Kitt and Chuck Berry, but past Steve and Bucky’s time. Vintage to you, but a strange shard of the unknown future they missed to them. 

This decade of music brings a little more energy into the cabin, and by this time, the entire place smells like sweet citrus and pine. A truly festive attack on the senses. The orange slices have dried enough to thread, which you and Steve team up to tackle while Bucky lights the candles. Apparently, Steve would prefer Bucky be in charge of open flames rather than sharp needles. You’re so content in this bubble, so lost in each activity that you’ve hardly noticed the sun setting outside. The candlelight feels intimate and cozy as the three of you finally decorate the place. Hanging paper chains from the walls, wrapping your freshly made garlands around the tree. 

“Aren’t they so perfectly seeded?” Bucky teases as he lifts you up onto his shoulders, allowing you to reach the tallest part of the tree to hang some of the oranges up there.

“Masterfully done, darling,” you respond, tongue pressed between your teeth as you reach for the farthest branch you can, “don’t think we could do Christmas without you.”

Steve helps you down, your frame landing right up against his as his hands fall to your hips. You feel every hard muscle against your supple body, every ridge and mound and-

“Are those candy canes in your pocket, Captain Rogers, or are you just happy to see me?”

“Both. Can’t it be both?” He teases, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“I’d honestly be kind of disappointed if it wasn’t.” 

Bucky joins you at your back. “Alright, lovebirds. Break it up. I was told I had to behave at least until we finished the tree, Rodgers. No cheating.”

You’re reluctantly separated to focus on hanging candy canes by a suddenly all too dedicated to the cause Sargeant, giggling and teasing as he slips several into his own pocket for later. 

The very last ornament fits right in the middle of the tree, which Steve lifts you a couple of inches off the ground to reach. The three of you stand back, admiring your handiwork. Leaning to one side, too big for the room. It’s messy and uneven and may fall down at any moment, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen anything so beautiful in your entire life. 

“You think we did good, doll?” Bucky asks, the soft candlelight glowing against his skin.

“I think we did perfect.”

And the moment is just that: perfect. Peaceful and cozy and wonderful… until Elton John starts shouting about Christmas. It’s so jarring you snort, heading over to the speaker before you have to attempt to explain the concept of Elton John to men born in the 1910s. “Sorry, on it.” 

You scroll back through the ages, eyes scanning over each song title until you stop near the top. 

I’ll Be Home For Christmas - Bing Crosby.

A smile twitches onto your lips, heat blooming from your chest. That was what started this whole thing, wanting to go home for Christmas. Yet now, looking at your boys in front of the tree they cut down with their own two hands, the one you decorated together as a family, you realise you’ve never felt so at home in your life. 

The mood instantly fixes itself as the song plays. You stand thoughtful for a moment, before you feel that familiar warmth at your back. Steve.

“Dance with me?” He whispers, fingers already running around your waist to spin you into him. He holds you in the traditional position, left hand holding yours, right on your waist as you both sway to the melody. Your eyes meet in a tender moment that feels like it lasts a lifetime, but Bing is only singing his second verse when you hear: 

“Can I cut in?” Bucky’s voice interrupts, playful and hopeful and happy after watching you and Steve.

Somehow, you fit perfectly between them as the three of you dance together. It feels like a moment you could bottle in a snowglobe: the music, the warmth, the candlelight. A Christmas unlike any other, with more heart and love than you’ve ever known, not a single bit of glitter in sight. 

Eventually, the song fades into another, leaving you all standing in this tangled embrace. In front of your perfect, messy tree.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” Bucky whispers, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Steve echoes, his head resting atop yours thanks to the considerable height difference.

“Merry Christmas, boys,” you whisper back, eyes glistening as you unravel just enough to look up at them. “I love you both so very much.”

And it doesn’t matter where you are geographically on the 25th of December. It never did. You were always going to be home for Christmas, as long as Steve and Bucky were by your side.

[akutasoda]

* ☆ my heart's wish, a lover's gift

╰➜ wriothesley x reader

synopsis - it was, a humble wish. but sometimes they mean the world when they come true

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, small teensy bits of angst, maybe a tad ooc, probably the most cliche thing i'll ever write, wc - 2.5k

a/n: this is my secret santa fic dedicated to the one and only, super amazing sunni @scribs-dibs which i totally didn't rewrite completely with 5 days before the deadline... ahem- hope you enjoy this sunni!! im wishing you the absolute best and more, happy holidays :)

it was always a commonly known fact that wriothesley was always quite the busy man.

he spent most of his time down in the fortress. it was his job after all. although ever since you came into his life, wriothesley did try and spend more time away from the damp depths of the fortress - but when that wasn't entirely possible you could always count on letters back to you or even taking the initiative and visiting him yourself.

even during the holidays wriothesley was still required to be at the fortress, to nobody's surprise. he didn't exactly have the most flexible schedule and definitely didn't have defined holidays or even days off. so you weren't that disappointed to find out that he wouldn't have the winter holidays off as you expected that to be the case.

although that still didn't take the sting of realisation away. even a simple walk down the streets of fontaine could be a painful reminder of how little you saw the man you cherished so. seeing most people smiling and interlocking arms with their spouses or even simply being with their friends was a reminder painful enough to bubble that bitter feeling of loneliness back to the front of your mind.

even being home didn't help very much - opening the door to you and wriothesley's shared abode just to be greeted with silence was always a cold reminder as to where your lover was most of the time, at least the fortress was livelier than the lone rooms of the abode.

you often found solace in the fact that you knew that wriothesley would rather be spending his time with you. but the simple truth was that you loved him and he loved you, so you bore the cold isolation until he returned once more as you knew it would be worth the wait.

but was it really so much of an absurd wish for him to be home a bit more?

it was christmas eve.

the final chills of winter were more evident than ever, promising a few more days of sheer cold. but your day had been its same monotonous routine. a couple of errands had been run and companions of yours had been met - namely as most would be busy the following day.

but you were running out of things to do, ways to distract yourself. a part of you wondered if you could ever get someone to give wriothesley time off, although you had simply no clue on who would even be responsible for something like that

the streets of fontaine had never looked prettier. at least it was a pleasant sight while you wallowed in your own thoughts and dejection.

“may i ask what's weighing on your mind?” the calm, rather distant, voice served to startle you and scurry your thoughts away.

you looked to find neuvillette walking closer to you until he stood beside you, a quizzical yet composed look on his face.

your gaze became slightly downcast and you shook your head in an attempt to send a silent, unspoken, signal of “don't worry about me” before you looked up at him to finally verbalise something, something unrelated to his previous question

"what brings you out here at this time? surely you're quite busy?” and your assumption would be correct, it was barely the evening and so from what you remembered, neuvillette would most likely still be occupied with some kind of work

he let a small reassuring smile grace his face before briefly explaining something about having a break and taking a moment for himself

before he stopped briefly before continuing on a rather different train of thought, “apologies i digress from my true intentions, i'm here specifically to give you a message”

now it was your turn to be confused, “me? from who and what about?”

“i'm afraid it isn't that kind of message, as they only asked for me to ask you to meet them here” neuvillette hummed as he handed you a rather scruffy note

you read it's contents and something was itching at the back of your brain, you knew that handwriting. it looked so familiar yet you couldn't place exactly who it would've belonged to - perhaps your mind was too occupied to think clearly.

a brief thank you and a bid farewell was exchanged between the both of you as you began to make your way to the location. a million and one thoughts raced through your mind as to who would've wanted to see you right now, or even simply who.

it didn't take long at all for the named destination to be reached, neither did it take long for you to start thinking it was some kind of joke as it appeared nobody was there. maybe you were early? neuvillette wasn't exactly the kind to get himself caught up in jokes or pranks.. in your eyes anyway.

you looked down to the piece of paper again, rereading those same words, the handwriting still so painfully familiar yet completely lost on you as to who the owner was.

you flipped it over to see if you missed anything but the blank space led to that idea being quickly shut down. looking up again, you scouted the area to see if anyone was in the distance at least but yet again being greeted by the streets being bathed in an eerie silence, devoid of life.

a few minutes had passed since you arrived, it was cold and the evening certainly wasn't getting any earlier, so you decided that if this person didn't show up in the next couple of minutes you would just go home and confront neuvillette tomorrow. hopefully getting him to tell you who gave him the note and told him to deliver it.

just as you sighed to yourself, you heard footsteps approaching. looking around yet again, you managed to quickly deduce just where they were coming from - mainly by the distant shadow shrouded figure that was heading in your direction.

your eyes narrowed, attempting to try and deduce who it was and you swore from the figures stature and outline that you knew who it was immediately. but it couldn't be no? he would've told you if he had finally been granted time off.

your train of thought, and even slight bewilderment, was very quickly cut off when the figure got close enough for you to start distinguishing features.

features that undoubtedly belonged to your lover, the very same who you were not expecting to see anytime soon.

it took all your strength not to practically run and throw yourself at him - and judging from the way he stopped briefly before picking up the pace, nearly breaking out into a jog, wriothesley was fighting a similar battle.

although, he was losing his. as soon as wriothesley was in a reasonable range of you, he virtually tackled you into a hug. knocking you off balance to the point you would've fallen over should he have not been holding you.

wriothesley quickly had one arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest as his over arm worked its way up to allow him to place it over your shoulder, holding the base of your neck. at this point he was practically squishing you, but for now you couldn't care less.

you began to relax into his grip, slowly beginning to attempt to wrap your arms around his frame. it was almost as if the bitter cold of winter was long forgotten and the evening could slip away freely as for right now, all that mattered was that wriothesley was here. in your arms, embracing you after so long.

although it was only a matter of time before you started questioning why he was here. it wasnt that you didn't want him here, if anything it was the exact opposite but

it was simply the fact that you kind of expected him to not have the time to be with you anytime soon.

he pulled away first, it wasn't as if you had the option to anyway with his bear grip making it near impossible, but he brought your hands into each of his as he did so, holding them low. almost as if he couldn't believe himself that he was actually with you.

wriothesley could see your slightly confused expression and he could take quite the accurate guess as to what was the cause of your confusion. so he soon broke the air of silence between you

“you didn't really think i'd let you spend the season alone, did you?” his expression was one that was somewhere between a smug smile and genuine slight amusement that stemmed partly from his curiosity.

the obvious answer was yes.

you knew he wouldn't have done so intentionally, but it was pretty much expected that wriothesley was always more likely to be stuck deep in the depths of the fortress rather than in the comfort of your shared abode. so you hadn't expected him to be around, and even the mere thought of him having the holiday off seemed like wishful thinking on your end.

and he hadn't exactly told you otherwise at any point prior.

slowly, and slightly embarrassingly, you shook your head no and he let out a small awkward laugh

he smiled, “i don't blame you, even i only knew a couple of hours ago after i managed to fight my way into gaining these next couple days due to-”

his reasoning was soon lost to you.

rather admittedly, you couldn't actually care less about how or why he was granted a holiday and you definitely wouldn't question it in risk of jinxing him, somehow causing him to lose it and then he would end up going back to the fortress.

wriothesley quickly clocked your lack of interest in his reasoning and shook his head subtly, stopping his explanation which was losing its point by the second in honesty.

“nevermind, all that matters is that i'm here now and able to spend my time with you”

and with that, wriothesley gave you a smile, “so, how about we head home now yeah? it certainly isn't getting lighter”

you nodded.

wriothesley let go of both your hands, walking away in the direction of your shared home with you by his side. but it barely took a minute before he interlocked his fingers with yours on the side that was between you both.

he raised your hand in his slightly, “how about we stay like this for the journey? wouldn't want your hands to get cold now would we?” he smirked slightly at seeing you practically stare at him in disbelief.

all of sudden, the streets of fontaine seemed all the more brighter and livelier - despite actually having less people in them.

the lights twinkled brighter, illuminating a soft glow onto wriothesley's features as he talked to you about whatever was on his mind, namely what you both could do tomorrow with his day off.

you couldn't help but stare shamelessly at the joy evident on his face - something that was caused by the fact that he was thrilled to be able to simply spend time with you.

the walk home felt unreasonably quick, perhaps you were simply longing for more small moments like that wishing that they never ended - even if the end goal was back at home, with wriothesley by your side which only meant more time with him in retrospect.

upon opening the door, your shared abode feeling warmer and happier despite nothing actually physically being changed.

wriothesley stayed glued to your hip at all times. barely sparing you a minute to yourself but it wasn't as if you minded that much. he followed you like a lost puppy as you went about whatever you had to do, occasionally, and very regretfully, he would part from you to do his own thing before sprinting back to you.

and before you both started getting ready to turn in for the night, he turned to you, smiling softly as he brought you in for a kiss - one that held many apologies from his end but still carried the same warm feeling of affection, almost as if it was a promise.

a silent vow to you - one that pledged that no matter what, he would always hold an unmatched love for you and how he would always return to your embrace wherever it may be as that was his home.

you awoke the next morning, in your grogginess you could swear last night was a dream. some kind of wishful thinking to keep your mind occupied from a bitter reality. fortunately, it wasn't.

it would be hard to believe it was when you could feel wriothesley clinging onto you like some overgrown puppy, almost as if he was too scared to let go of you for his own fear of it being a dream as well.

but it was in fact a welcome reality, as opposed to the one you were more acquainted with of waking up to a usual half empty bed that was always stone cold to the touch.

he stirred when you did, pulling you even closer toward him, a silent plea for you to allow him to indulge in the gentle warmth that was provided by the air of laziness that was still very much present in the morning air. and who were you to reject him?

and to sweeten the deal, wriothesley began peppering your face in gentle kisses. opening his eyes ever so slightly and giving you a syrupy warm smile that was infectious - his messy bed hair making him all the more charming, evidence that this was one of the best rests he'd had in a long time.

it was this domesticity that you both craved.

the snugness of having small moments like this to give the reminder of what kept you two together. love so much more present in these times. just the two of you, in your shared house, not even doing anything, but it was more than enough.

you both could bare those bitter droughts of being away from one another if it meant that this was always what you two could return too and treasure.

truly all you could ever wish for was wriothesley back home in your arms - and he would do anything to fulfil that wish.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Hey-lo! I was wondering if you could write something for Jeff, please? Whatever you would like, I saw that you had been wanting to write for him. Thank you! It's been a while since I've been on the blog, I hope you're doing okay!

-🦩

Helloo!! I'm doing the best that I can, and I hope you're doing okay too! I'm glad to see you back :) I hope you enjoy.

Today, I am full of winter and Christmas-themed thoughts with Jeff. Jeff loves to spoil his partner, getting you so many presents, and all of them are absolutely perfect because mans is an incredible gift giver thanks to the fact that he always remembers your interests and little things you mention here and there. Jeff takes gift giving very seriously because he in his insecurities is constantly looking for ways that he can prove himself to you, and one of the main ways he can do that is by getting you the best gifts possible, so that you can have things that make you happy and bring you joy, and so he can prove that he can provide for you.

He also totally spends way too long trying to perfectly wrap your gifts, spending so much time hunched over his desk, going through rolls of tape and wrapping paper until they're 100% perfect, decorated with bows and tags with your name beautifully written across them. His hands might be shaking from overuse, but he puts so much attention to detail in them. He never got things like this in his childhood, in fact, he never got gifts at all. So, in that absence, he wishes to give you the things he never got, to prove that he loves you, to prove that he wants good things for you. Jeff knows he can't give you normalcy, he's too far gone for that, so he tries to make up for it in little ways like this, little moments of domestic bliss that he can offer you. The thin winter air is harsher on his asthma, but that won't stop him from spending hours running around outside with you, having snowball fights (he always lets you win), making snow angels with you, building snowmen, and naming all of them with you, decorating them with whatever the two of you can find around the mansion and outside. He always makes sure you're bundled up, sometimes with multiple coats, and he makes sure you've always got gloves on, and a scarf tied nicely around you.

His favorite part following spending hours outside with you is when he gets to take you back inside and snuggle up with you so the two of you can warm up. He'll sit you down in front of the mansion's fireplace, curled up around you so the two of you can warm up in the nice ambiance of a warm, crackling fire. After you're no longer freezing, your next stop is a nice, warm shower so the two of you can unwind together. He'll dry you off himself, and then he places you inside his own baggy clothes so you can be nice and snug (and look extra cute while doing so), and he'll wrap you up in his blankets, and leave you there while he runs downstairs to make you both some nice hot chocolate, accompanied by whatever snacks he can find. He'll come back upstairs and curl up with you in bed, snacks in your hands, and put on something for the two of you to watch. It is the holiday season, so if you'd like something Christmassy he's more than happy to put on a nice Christmas movie, but if you're not feeling it yet, he's happy to watch anything you'd like. Laying in bed with you, hot coco warming your hands, something nice on the TV, snow falling outside, is absolute heaven to Jeff, and he gets to spend a whole season like this with you. He could die from happiness at this rate, and it's all thanks to you.

[shslbunnylover]

hii!! i love your fics so much. i really wanted to request a christmas oneshot with melissa x reader. where they’re married and they decide to surprise each other gifts (the readers gift to mel is the lingerie set mel has been wanting to see in the reader).

(very spicy please with some fluff and smut)

★★★𝘼 𝙜𝙞𝙛𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚★★★

Character: Melissa Schemmenti

Summary: See ask above!

Requester: Anonymous

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1

Trigger warnings (DL, DI): Smut, Mommy kink, Praise, Degradation, Top Mel/Bottom reader, Dom/sun dynamics, Vaginal fingering (Reader receiving), Oral (Reader receiving), Clitoral stimulation (Reader receiving),

Genre: Smut

A/n: This was such an awesome ask! Absolutely loved this idea 🤭

Word count: 2.2k

...

...

You sat on the couch with your wife, laying your head on her chest as her hands fondled your hair, her nails occasionally scratching softly at your scalp. The smell of her perfume clouded your nostrils, leaving your brain foggy with only thoughts of her inside of it.

The outside smells of cookies made and candles burned were nothing more than an afterthought when your body was engulfed in the scent of your wife,

"I still don't understand how nobody at the checkout mentioned a girlfriend, like at all," Melissa's laugh broke you out of your thoughts, her eyes rolling at the ridiculous scene playing on the TV in front of you two.

"That would have been an interesting conversation, because knowing Buddy, he would have said something like 'It's for my dad actually', you know? I wish they had added that in the movie," You replied, adjusting yourself so that your head lay on the redhead's shoulder.

"I wonder how awkward that would be to film though," Melissa thought, her soft and nimble fingers wrapping strands of your hair around themselves mindlessly as if it were natural to her. "But the bloopers must be even more fun to watch,"

As the scene where Walter Hobbs is opening the gift naively given by Buddy played on the TV screen, you looked up to see your wife licking her lips with a smirk before speaking.

"Say, I'd like to see you in that," She nudged you, causing you to laugh.

"I don't think I'd look good in it," You giggled, burying your face into her out of embarrassment and the thought of yourself in such an underwear set.

"Oh come on hon," Melissa rolled her head back, looking at you with raised eyebrows and an even fatter grin. "That body of yours would fit perfectly into it, and it'd match your face, all red like that,"

You stuck your tongue out at your wife, narrowing your eyes while a new idea found its way into your head. You looked back down at the screen to watch the rest of the movie, leaving you with a miniature smirk on your lips.

You spent the rest of that week trying to find the same lingerie set from the movie, hoping to get it in time for Christmas as a surprise for Melissa.

"Damn it, why is the evil Jeff Bezos website not working?" You groaned, putting your head in your hands, closing the computer, and placing your elbow on the cold steel shell of the device.

"What's wrong hon?" Your wife asked, opening the door to your shared bedroom, only to see you visibly frustrated.

"It's nothing, my love," You smiled, pulling her in for a soft kiss.

"Alright..." Melissa looked at you with a doubtful look, squeezing your shoulder before leaving to take a shower.

You sighed, looking out the window to admire the darkness of the night, smiling softly as you noticed a couple of snowflakes stick to the window before eventually melting from the warmth of the glass.

You thought hard for a moment before you felt a lightbulb go off in your head.

"Ava..."

"So, it's usually about 40 bucks off my shop, but because you're my employee and my best friend, it's half off," Ava smiled mischievously at the situation you were in.

"Thanks, Ava," You rolled your eyes, handing her the cash before grabbing the bag. "We will never talk about this, Amazon was down," You blushed.

"Will do, baby boo," The principal smirked, shooing you away to resume watching Love Island.

You shot your friend the middle finger, shutting the door to her office, and stuffing the bag inside your purse.

When Christmas morning finally arrived after what seemed like just a blink of an eye, a warm blanket of silence covered the house. It had been such a hectic morning of gifts and surprises that the silence felt good. The two of you sat side by side, taking in the moment and the ardency of one another. The fire brought a comfortable warmth around you, and a delicious breakfast made by your wife sat untouched on the table, as it was meant for later. All that mattered now was sharing the day together and enjoying the silence. No sounds of unwrapping or exclamations of surprise, just the calm air lingering between you two while you looked through the photo book Melissa had given you.

"So Princess, do you like it?" Melissa asked, watching as you held a soft photo book from your wedding.

"I love it so much Mel," You replied, tears brimming at your eyes as you flipped through each photo, laughing softly at the goofy ones.

"But, I still have one more gift to give you," You smiled, shooting her a wink and standing up to go to your bedroom to get changed into the surprise.

Your partner sat there while you got dressed, texting Barbara a thank you for the help with the photo book, unaware of the spicy surprise waiting for her.

You swiftly pulled the straps to the lingerie onto your shoulders, your fingers moving to graze softly on the fluffy edges of the fabric.

"You almost done in there, hon?" Melissa laughed at how long you were taking while she cleaned up the wrapping paper.

"Y-Yeah I'll be out in a second!" You replied, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway.

Your arms folded in front of your body as you walked behind Melissa, tapping her softly on the shoulder and watching her turn around swiftly.

"So, what-" The redhead was cut off by the sight of you in the lingerie.

Her mouth was hanging slightly open, all the moisture in there going straight to her core.

The lingerie sat tightly against your body, showing off every inch of your figure. A warm red fabric with white trimming covered the top part of the outfit, clinging to your curves and framing your breasts beautifully. You paired the underwear with a pair of white fishnets and red lipstick, as you knew Melissa loved when you wore that shade of red.

"Oh...Jesus Christ Hon," Melissa gasped, walking up to you and cupping your breast with her hand and your chin with the other. "You look delicious," She practically groaned, pinching your nipple tightly to elect a whimper from you.

"F-Fuck-" You let your head fall onto her clavicle, biting your lip almost as roughly as your wife was being with your tits.

Her palm fell from your chin, pushing you back from her embrace to get the perfect view. Her soft and gentle fingers trailed over your exposed skin, your flesh raising once the tips finally left the area.

"I can't believe this is all mine, these tits, this face, everything about you," Your wife spoke in a husky tone, moving her lips to your neck, leaving soft blue marks on your otherwise [skin color] skin.

"P-Please Mel-" You pleaded, the pain causing the heat in your core to bubble up.

"Ah ah ah-" She tutted, pinching your nub tighter. "What do you call me?"

"Mommy..." You corrected yourself, pressing your body against her, moving your hips so your clit rubbed up against her thigh.

The older woman quickly and harshly swatted your button, watching with a grin as you shivered from the sudden sting.

"Good girl..." The redhead chuckled. "Now, I'm gonna take full advantage of this Christmas present," She spoke, grabbing you and dragging you upstairs.

When she finally made her way to your bedroom, she pushed you onto the bed with a simple flick of her hand, her green eyes watching how your tits bounced as your back hit the mattress like a predator stalking its prey before going to devour it.

"Please do mommy, I got this just for you," You breathed out, spreading your thighs apart to reveal your soaked cunt.

The redhead's emerald eyes widened, and an amused expression made its way onto her facial features.

"Fuck...now this is the bow on top," Melissa licked her lips, wasting no time and immediately burying her face in you, her tongue working wonders as it plunged in and out of you, only pausing to k the tips of her fingers.

Her digits swiftly went to rub on your clit, moving in circles that shot chills up your spine.

Your body was engulfed in a deep warm feeling that started from within and spread out to the rest of your body. Your brain clouded with nothing but a feeling of intense pleasure, relaxation, and even ecstasy as you cried out her name.

"Yeah princess, taste so good," Your wife hummed into your sensitive pussy, the soft vibrations adding to the waves of pleasure pulsating throughout your body

You can feel yourself breathing heavily and panting as your body began to tremble with pleasure.

"Mommy, I-I...Oh God!" You cried, your legs shaking violently from the stimulation on your sensitive button.

Your hand dug into her hair, your thighs clenching around the sides of her head.

Her tongue flicked around your folds, the sweet taste of your release settling on her tastebuds as she savored each lick she gave to your sensitive pussy. Her green eyes rolled back into her head, internally questioning how someone could taste as addicting and as delicious as you did.

But she wasn't done with you. She wanted to hold off your release for as long as possible like always. She was always such a tease, and with your new outfit, the redhead only wanted to watch your body squirm around even more than usual.

"Such a fucking whore," Melissa sighed, removing her mouth from your pussy to your dismay, releasing a laugh from her pretty pink lips when you let out a pleading moan.

The redhead ran her hand through her hair, licking her lips clean of your juices before running her hands up and down your body, squeezing at your breasts to elect more of your delicious sounds for her to relish in.

"Please, Mommy, don't tease!" You whimpered, rubbing your thighs for any sense of relief from the ache between your legs.

Melissa didn't respond to your whines and pleas, only spreading your legs with her strong hands.

"Surprising me with lingerie, knowing I'd fuck your brains out," She growled, bending down to kiss your neck, nibbling at your earlobe before plunging three of her fingers inside your tight hole.

Your toes curled tightly and your back arched, your hands that were gripping at the sheets the only thing keeping you from going completely off the edge.

"Oh f-fuck!" You choked out, your voice turning into a mixture of whimpers and cries as your wife's slender fingers rubbed up against your walls, collecting a white ring at the bottom that increased in visibility the more she pumped in and out of your tight walls.

"Yeah, such a good girl, taking my fingers with your pretty pussy," Melissa muttered, trailing her mouth down your figure before finally attaching her lips to your puffy clit, giving you the much-needed relief.

"Ahh~!! God! I'm going to come! Going to come!" You practically sobbed, your eyes rolling back into your head, the feeling of the redhead sucking on your sensitive nub too much for you to handle.

Just because of her fingers' movements, carefully perfected after years of being your partner, your body immediately became nothing more than a malleable and shaking sex puddle.

"God damn it, you're so easy hon," Your wife smirked, her expression predatory and seductive as she edged you on, her thrusts increasing in speed before slowing down whenever you were about to finish.

"Only for you- Please- Mommy, I need to come!" You cried out, wrapping your hands around Melissa's biceps for more connection to her, your fingernails leaving soft crescent moon indents in her milky skin.

"Then do it baby, make a mess on my fingers and my face," Melissa purred, giving your clit tiny little kitten licks with her agile tongue.

"Fu-Fuck-!! Mommy~!!" You screamed, your back relaxing as the relaxation from your release took over your body, a soft 'oomph' coming from the mattress once your body fully hit the soft plush.

You laid there, your eyes hooded and legs shaking, watching as Melissa sat down next to you, pulling you onto her lap.

"That- Holy shit..." You muttered, unable to say anything else due to the fogginess inside of your head.

The redhead opened your mouth, pushing one of her soaked digits inside, allowing you to clean it whilst tasting yourself.

"I think that was my favorite gift this year," She winked suggestively, pulling out of your mouth.

"I'm glad," You laughed, your head clearing up from how dumb-fucked you were. "Merry Christmas, my love,"

"Merry Christmas Amore," Melissa smiled, stroking away the hair that clung to your forehead. "Why don't we go get that breakfast I made? I don't want it getting cold after all,"

"Good idea," You agreed, attempting to stand up, only for your wife to sweep you off your feet and into her arms.

"I think you need to give these things a little rest," She teased, squeezing your thigh softly before making her way down the stairs.

...

If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3

-Akira

[thistledropkick]

The quoted tweet, from January of this year, reads:

"Because of all that's happened recently, I feel like I want to live life to the fullest.

Let's not wait too long."

The tweet from today reads "My feelings, past and current."

The three pages of text read:

"Jan 19, 2024, at 12:14 am

On the topic of Chris and Desperado.

Did it start with his tweet that said "I want to appear on Baka Gaijin + Friends someday"? I don't know precisely, but around that time I started taking this seriously.

For me, that time period was especially difficult, and since then, my life has really changed.

In December of last year, I was examined at the hospital.

Baliyan Akki was by my side. He said, "I'm sure it's nothing serious, so let's go drink some beers and laugh about it afterwards!" But his tone changed when the doctor started to explain that there was something wrong inside of me.

I had cancer.

I wasn't able to leave the hospital that day. I called my mother in England, and explained what was going on. Reasonably, she was very worried.

At that time, the true nature of the tumor was still unclear.

But, it was undoubtedly malignant. After that, from Christmas into the new year, I had a very long three week wait. I badly wished to be able to wrestle again, just one more time.

Lying in bed, waiting for surgery, and sleeping in that same bed, of course I was thinking "It would be so good to wrestle again"

I was lucky, and my doctor told me that they had been able to remove the entirety of the cancer.

Around that time, MAO had been planning his Birthday Party Match, which he wanted to be CDK vs MAO and TAKA Michinoku. I absolutely wanted to return to the ring. Five weeks after my surgery, I returned to the ring. I may have rushed it a bit. But I lacked the self-control to wait any longer. And afterwards, I feel that it was the correct choice to make.

The fact is, Desperado and I have been discussing having a match together for a long time. And that's not simply a matter of mutually respecting each other and our abilities as wrestlers.

The two of us get along well. We share a similar desire to create things that are unusual, that are unique, that are interesting. Things that exist outside of conventional preconceived ideas.

I can't speak for Despe but as for myself, I have no interest in being "the best in the world." My only desire is to have fun, to make good memories for others, and of course, to make good memories for myself.

I don't know what kind of match Despe and I will show you, but whatever the result, I have a feeling it will be a day, a match, and a moment that will remain in my heart forever. I want to challenge and to be challenged. I want to feel alive. I know that El Desperado is an opponent who will give me everything that I selfishly desire... And I hope that the result of this selfish indulgence will be enjoyable, unforgettable and magnificent for everyone who watches it.

I'm excited. It will be a day in Ryogoku that holds a lot of meaning. So be prepared to laugh, to cry, and to truly feel alive."

Despe replied:

"Thanks for your thoughts on everything to this point

And I wonder how many more times I'll be able to meet an opponent who truly understands my desires?

I'm glad Takahashi Hiromu was in the same class as me

I'm glad Fale was in the same class as me

I'm glad Chris is wrestling in the same era as me

I'm glad Chris is a true friend who feels the same way I do

Because of that,

I won't hold back."

[duskandcobalt]

somebody else

Merry Christmas @whysterian ✨🎄

For your Christmas present, I’ve written something that’s both sweet and a little angsty which I feel fits the general vibe of Elriel as a pair anyway ☺️

I hope you enjoy this! Happy @acotargiftexchange

Xoxo your secret santa🎅🏽

1.6 words, no warnings ☺️

Elain giggled into the chest of the Shadowsinger the second his bedroom door had shut behind them.

She’d been making her way back to bed after dinner, tiptoeing down the hallway… purposefully slowing down as she passed the door of the room he was inhabiting for the night, in the hopes that he’d do exactly what he’d done. There was no fear, only absolute happiness that built inside her in the split second it had taken for the door to open and a strong arm to wrap around her middle and pull her inside. There’d been no indication that he’d be waiting for her, but she knew. In her heart, in her bones - Elain knew he’d be waiting and listening for the sound of her footsteps to pass by his door.

“Happy Solstice, pretty girl.” Azriel whispered, one scarred hand sliding up her neck until he could tilt her jaw upwards so her lips met his. He’d wasted no time, the wish just barely leaving his mouth before he kissed her. It was sweet, tender, thorough - his other hand placed safely on her waist, his fingertips easily stretching to press gently against the small of her back.

She’d waited all night for this. To have a moment alone - just the two of them - unbeknownst to anyone else. It had been a torturous evening of avoiding eye contact, of pretending like the two of them hadn’t spent the last few months sneaking off to dark corners of the house or hidden sections of the garden whenever they got the chance. After the debacle last solstice, Elain had thought everything was done between them before they’d even had a chance to start but she soon found out that she’d been wrong. With the full story in the open between them, she’d only come to realise that Azriel hated being told what to do… something that had worked very, very well in her favour because it meant that when he’d come back to Velaris a couple weeks after that ill-fated night, he’d made it quite clear that he was determined to have her.

“Happy Solstice, Azriel.” Elain smiled against his mouth, pressing a hand against his chest to put some semblance of space between them before things got out of control as it tended to whenever they were left alone too long. There’d be time for that later but there were other things that needed to be done first. “I’ve got something for you…”

“Oh yeah?” He tried pulling her closer but she peeled back again, shaking her head and laughing at the mischievous look in his eyes. She loved this side of him - the playful easiness he seemed to reserve just for her.

“Mhm,” Elain bit her lip, doing her best to concentrate on the task at hand and not on the look he was giving her lest she abandon everything and let him have his way with her. She reached into the hidden pocket of her dress, slipping out a small box she’d carefully wrapped late last night and holding it out to him.

“Didn’t have to get me anything…” Azriel smiled, carefully taking the box from her and weighing it in his palm. “Earbuds, headache tonic… what will this year bring, I wonder?”

Elain sighed, impatient as Azriel took his time carefully unwrapping the present. Her nerves were getting the best of her.

“It’s really for us, more than anything. I mean it’s mine but for us to share…” her voice drifted off, quiet as Azriel picked up a small silver key and held it in between his fingers. There was a crease on his forehead as he looked at her, waiting for an explanation. She wanted to soothe away the line with her fingers.

“The bakery I like in town… there’s an apartment a couple floors above it. I… I bought it.”

“You bought an apartment?” Azriel asked, turning the key over in his hand. “For us?”

“It’s silly…” Elain shook her head, suddenly feeling like she’d made a massive mistake. She didn’t know what she’d been thinking when signed the papers and handed over the money. They’d spoken about one day having a place to themselves, where they wouldn’t have to worry about others seeing or hearing them and so she’d thought it would be a good idea. “I’m sorry, I just… it’s getting crowded here and I thought it’d be nice to have a place of my own. Somewhere we could go every now and then.”

“Hey,” Azriel stepped towards her, reaching forward to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s not silly. It’s just… it’s really going to put my present to shame.”

Azriel chuckled as he pulled a small pouch from his back pocket and handed it to her.

Elain took it, opening it to find an ornate hair pin fashioned into the shape of wild flowers. It was beautiful, the tiny stones glimmering in the dim light of the room.

“That feels silly now,” he laughed, slipping the hair pin from her hand and then reaching behind her to wind her hair up before securing it in place. He looked her over, his eyes slowly scanning over her face and her newly exposed throat. “Perfect.”

“It’s lovely, thank you.” Elain wound her arms around his neck, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Shall we go see this apartment now?” Azriel asked just as she felt him drag the key he still held up the length of her spine.

“Can you winnow us there?” She asked, heat and excitement building in her belly with each passing second.

…

Azriel could barely stand to be in the room this year, once again relegated to standing in the shadowed doorway as the festivities unfolded before him.

There was no excitement this year. No anticipation of sweeping a certain sister into his room after everyone else had gone to bed - happily drunk and bellies full, their newly acquired gifts scattered in front of the fireplace where they’d be collected the next morning. That anticipation was in the past. Now, he watched as his closest friends enjoyed the night. Watched as the love of his life sat still as a stone next to the male that had won in the end.

Azriel had fooled himself for the better part of three years. Had somehow tricked himself into thinking that for once, he could have what his heart desired despite all the extenuating factors against him. He’d thought that this would be it, that he’d finally been chosen. That he’d finally gotten the life that he’d always secretly dreamed of having. Of a female to come home to. A female to cherish. Someone that understood him.

The rug had been pulled out from under him one evening when Elain had stood in front of him uncharacteristically stone faced as she told him they couldn’t keep doing what they’d been doing and that it was time for her to accept what the Cauldron had planned for her.

A life away from him. A life with a son of Autumn.

He hadn’t been able to say anything. Hadn’t even really tried to argue that she was making a mistake. How could he when far in the back of his mind, a small part of him always knew that this had always been too good to be true.

For months now, he’d avoided her. Had been able to drown himself in work - throwing every bit of time and energy he had into his reports and assignments in order to keep his mind off of everything he’d lost because if he thought about it too much, he’d go crazy. Much like he was now.

He’d tried. He really had. He’d tried to not watch her from the second she walked into the River House with her arm looped through Lucien’s. But it was a lost cause because just like the very first time he’d met her, she’d drawn his attention with little to no effort. She was beautiful. Ethereal. There could be a thousand females in a room and Azriel would find her within seconds. He’d been quietly observing her all night, making sure she seemed okay. Making sure she seemed happy.

Elain on the other hand had refused to even look in his direction after an initial polite greeting and he’d given up after a while, had taken to sulking in the shadows as he nursed a tumbler of whisky and avoided making eye contact with Nesta. That sister in particular had an uncanny ability to read him when no one else could and he hated it.

It wasn’t until he’d overheard the tail end of a conversation that he dared to look at Elain again.

“I have to head back to the Spring Court tonight, unfortunately.” Lucien had said.

“Oh, what a shame,” Feyre pouted. “I was looking forward to spending time with my sister before you two wed.”

“Well,” Elain’s voice pierced Azriel’s heart. It’d been so long since he’d heard that gentle voice so clearly. Paired with Feyre’s reminder of the upcoming mating ceremony, it was like a dagger to the heart. “Lucien’s going back but I… I thought I’d stay behind but I… I, um… I’ve arranged for a place to stay in town for a couple nights so that I’ll be out of your way but I’ll come visit during the day.”

Azriel’s breath halted as Elain’s gaze lifted suddenly, her eyes meeting his for one searing moment before she returned her attention to Feyre who’d squealed at the news and had immediately set to planning what they could do with their time together.

He could’ve been imagining it - the invitation he thought he might’ve seen in that short glimpse they’d shared. They’d always had a knack for communicating their thoughts and needs with few words actually spoken aloud. But it wasn’t until Elain stood abruptly, heading for the kitchen, that he caught a glimpse of the pin nestled into her dark curls. A delicate bunch of wildflowers that was as familiar as the key he swore he could feel warming his skin from where it still resided in his back pocket.

[ryuryuryuyurboat]

this christmas, i'll give you my heart

synopsis: make sure you don't give it away the very next day

genre: fluff, slight crack at the end

characters: wanderer x gn! reader

warnings: reader is referred to in 2nd pov, wanderer may be slightly ooc, written from wanderer's pov

a/n: WAAAAAH SORRY FOR THE WAIT @mhiieee but! this is my gift to you for @2023gisecretsanta event, i hope you like it ueueueue happy holidays <33 likes, reblogs and comments highly appreciated!!

©2023 ryuryuryuyurboat. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.

masterlist

the wanderer— or kunikuzushi, kabukimono, scaramouche, the balladeer, hat guy (if you will) — has been through a lot, to say the least: first discarded by his creator, his mother, and left to fend for himself; then convinced to have been betrayed by his own friend; and finally left broken-hearted by a broken promise that could probably not have been kept in the first place. it would be a massive understatement to say that he absolutely did not find it easy to warm up to anyone at all. 

but then you entered the scene. 

you, in all your glory, came barreling in like a snowstorm, broke down all his walls, lodged yourself firmly in his heart and refused to leave– or maybe it would be better to say you found yourself a place where his heart should be? what a pesky little insect you were.

he’d grumbled and lamented when you dragged him out to “get some fresh air”, muttering under his breath about how irritating it was that you wouldn’t leave him alone— and yet he felt himself biting back a small smile when he saw the child-like shine in your eyes as you admired the lights that lit up the way out of the city, your hand gently tugging his forward. hmph, so you dared to lead the way? how insolent.

he’d vehemently refused to join you in laying down on the ground, insisting that he was perfectly fine just where he was, and he’d rather not soil his clothes with the “pure white snow”— because if he carried you back home there’d be twice the amount of germs exchanged between your clothes. no thank you.

he watched as you shrugged, sat cross-legged on the snow-covered path, and put a palm out. he watched as the expression of wonder on your face turned into an expression of awe, pure bliss lighting up your face as you watched the snowflakes falling onto your hand. right into the palm of your hand, exactly where you had him. 

he finally allowed himself a small smile (hidden behind his large hat) at the sight of you reliving your childhood memories: running in the snow, making structures out of it, pouting when it melted too quickly before you could do anything. he silently swore, in his heart, that he’d try his best to keep that innocent side of yours so he could protect your precious smile– er, he meant keeping that smile on your face so he could avoid any ugly crying scenes…

he doesn’t know when or how, but somewhere along the way, with how you kept pushing yourself into his life, you’d started to fill the void in his chest, and he’d started looking forward to meetings with you, started to become dependent on that ticklish warmth that spread through all the way to his fingertips whenever you showed your face. huh. so maybe he did have a heart after all. or maybe he’d found one– in which case, he’d endeavour to keep it safe from all who wished for its downfall—

splat! a cold sensation trickles down his cheek, then his neck, and seeps into the fabric of his clothing. you’re standing in front of him, that innocent grin still on your face, and a bundle of snow in your hand.

oh.

…

nevermind. he only promised he’d protect you from other people, after all! time to teach the fool who dared cross him a lesson.

taglist: @yinyinggie @lynyluvr @kazemiya @meidnightrain (send ask to be added to taglist!)

if you liked this, do consider dropping me a follow for more :>

[eclectic-sassycoweyes]

❄️Catch Me Before I Let Go❄️

A teaser of my coming 🎁 for the wonderful @ironheartwriter for the Tarlos Secret Santa gift exchange!

Dearest Lana - it’s me I’m your Santa in Secret (no more)!! I don’t regret to inform you of that, because it has been an absolute delight so far to think up something wintery and fun for you from the prompts you gave me! I do regret to inform you however, that I am running a bit behind😔

The Christmas Chaos simply caught up with me with unexpected intensity and I’ve had to ask the wonderful mods for an extension. I am doing my very best to be able to give you the fic in it’s finished form before New Year’s Eve!! To make up for it, and to hold you over until then, I have prepared this teaser for you including the above collage/mood board, and below a summary and a lil’ snippet to gift you on my posting day<3 I hope brings you both intrigue and enjoyment!

Best wishes for a happy holiday,

Your very own Secret (no more) Santa,

Mar💚🥰🤶

Summary:

As a former member of the school swim team and someone who generally likes to be in charge of whether his feet are moving or not, Carlos Reyes prefers water in its liquid form. As such, a ski resort should not be on his top ten spots to visit. He’s insistent to make an exception though, in order to treat his adventurous, snow-loving husband to some fun downtime before they embark together on the next big step for them, of parenting TK’s little brother, Jonah. He’s booked a cozy wooden lodge in the closest ski resort to Austin, and he’s going to be his most fun and adventurous self while also making sure that his husband is absolutely spoiled. There’s just a few things he hasn’t taken into account: 1) Carlos has never skied before in his life. 2) Carlos really hates doing things he isn’t already good at, especially if they include the risk of falling on your face and 3) One very annoying, and very hot, ski-instructor named Josh who is outrageously obvious in his flirting up a storm with TK.

-In which TK and Carlos go skiing for the holidays, Carlos grapples with the old notion of letting go of control, and has also convinced himself that he has something to make up for.

*****

On the third day Carlos is officially deemed ready to take on the real pistes. At least according to TK. And to.. Josh. Carlos knows it’s probably immature but he still has trouble accepting compliments from the ski-instructor without somehow taking it as the opposite.

Something about the chipper look on his face when he tells Carlos that he’s ‘doing super good’ or he’s a ‘really quick learner’ makes him feel five years old. Carlos might not know the first thing about skiing and yeah, they might have literally paid Josh for his advice and encouragement, but where does he get off telling Carlos what he is and isn’t ready for or that he just needs to try and ‘let go a little’? Ugh. It’s condescending. 

Yesterday Carlos finally managed to slide down the training hill without face planting or tackling any small children along the way, only to be met at the bottom with Josh giving him a way too enthusiastic thumbs up and saying ‘good job!’ Carlos’ own brain had unhelpfully applied the ‘buddy’ to the end of the sentence, making Carlos feel like he was a little kid who had just managed to actually kick the ball at soccer practice for the first time. Carlos had to muster up all his willpower to smile politely and grit out a genuine-sounding ‘thank you’. 

Josh seemed oblivious to the effect he was having on Carlos, and luckily so did TK - his happy smile and rosy cheeks and the hands that Carlos could just barely feel the pressure of as they gripped at his waist over thick layers while he kissed him with lips that felt cool and moist from the snow had quickly improved his mood and made him feel genuinely proud of his accomplishment. 

Despite this, Carlos feels a little less sure about whether he’s really ready for the real thing, especially now as they’re on top of the hill and looking down, the daunting stretch of it is looking longer and more steep than it had seemed from the foot of it. He’ll be fine, he tries to reassure himself. If nothing else, he believes in TK and TK believes in him. According to TK (and Josh but Carlos is trying to reach a state of cool indifference when it comes to him mainly by trying not to think about him too much) it’s good to try the real piste sooner rather than later, to experience the thrill of actually skiing so as to not risk growing tired and frustrated before you’ve even experienced the real fun of it.

Better to fall on your face a few times than to stay on the training piste the whole trip and go thinking you’ve had enough of skiing for good. Carlos is trying to be on board with that sentiment even though he really isn’t the type to normally throw himself into things without feeling like he’s at least prepared enough that the chances of success are somewhat high.

‘Learning by doing’ and ‘crack a few eggs along the way’ are not normally sentiments that resonate with him. He will be the type for those though, for TK. For his wonderful and adventurous boyfriend who has put up with Carlos being a sobbing mess half the time during the past few weeks, carrying the weight for both of them as they’ve embarked on the process of adopting his little brother, and with Carlos’ absent mindedness and late nights even longer. So at least for this week, he’ll be adventurous for TK while he does his best to treat him to everything he desires.

Besides, it’s not like they’re doing the biggest pistes just yet - the plateau they’re on constitutes the starting point to the smaller slopes and they’re doing the smallest one to start with. TK will be with him the whole way, probably bored as they slide slowly down the hill with Carlos pushing the front of the skis inwards to break the whole way. 

He’s already survived the trip up, gripping TK’s hand tight the whole way and trying his best to appreciate the view, mostly managing to appreciate the view of TK appreciating the view, as he found that looking down made him a little lightheaded and made his heart speed up in his chest uncomfortably. 

As Carlos refastens the buckles of his ski-boots (he’s already done it twice, once when they arrived at the pistes and put on their skis, and once right before getting on the ski-lift, images of his skis falling off on the way up and landing right on somebody’s head making him guilty of negligent manslaughter on account of not tightening his boots enough), Carlos ends his little pep talk by sternly telling himself to pull it together. He can do this. This is their second to last day on the trip, and TK deserves to have some fun too, instead of having to spend his whole trip in the training area with Carlos and all the children. 

Speaking of TK, Carlos rights himself and looks around for him. He didn’t want Josh to witness him neurotically double and triple check the buckles of his boots, not feeling sure that he would react nicely to Josh butting in to offer unsolicited advice or, God forbid, crouching down to help him tighten them. So he’d mustered up a confident smile and told himself and TK to go ahead and Carlos would find them.

 Now he’s kind of regretting that. Carlos might allegedly be ready to slide down the smallest of the ‘adult’ hills, but the thing is, he still hasn't completely mastered the whole ‘moving on purpose in a normal walking pace’-thing. He still feels like it’s the skis, not him, deciding when he’s standing still and when he’s moving (and if he’s honest, which direction he moves in). 

Spotting his husband and the ski instructor that Carlos is not currently sparing thoughts for, by the starting point of the slope they’re supposed to try first, Carlos starts slowly making his way there. Luckily they seem to be caught in conversation and Carlos hopes that it stays that way so he doesn’t have to be observed inelegantly and very slowly approaching them. Nothing more awkward than waving and then being stared down for five minutes while you’re sweating and fighting to get within talking distance.

Once Carlos is within hearing range, he picks up bits of their conversation. “Oh,” he hears Josh’s voice say, and Carlos swears he can hear, even from just that one word, that the ski instructor is flirting with his husband. “I don’t suppose they make calendars for those too..?” And at that Carlos has to stop walking to roll his eyes (he can’t do both at the same time). 

Not this again, he thinks angrily. He can’t believe he’s had to witness TK being the victim of this god-awful pickup line twice in the span of their less than five years long relationship and had to fend the guy off (leading to some spectacular sex the first time, but still). Can’t these idiots come up with something better?

Carlos picks up his pace, he needs to stop this conversation before it goes any further and show this Josh-guy, Mr. ‘I’m a hot and blonde ski instructor who probably never gets caught in my head and is a lot of fun’, who TK belongs to. Even if somewhere deep within himself Carlos is finding it hard to measure up at the moment.

Carlos is sweating and panting, his brows furrowed in concentration trying to make his legs move faster, his thighs protesting as he slides one in front of the other in quick succession, using his poles to try and make sure he’s actually causing a forward movement instead of just looking like he’s using the skiing machine at the gym. At one point he gives up and turns so his side is to Josh and TK, awkwardly lifting his skis to take broad steps sideways.

He’s already preparing what to say in his head. Maybe if he interrupts the exact same thing as last time, TK will find it funny and get that wonderful crinkly and shiny eyed laugh he reserves for Carlos’ jokes that always makes his chest feel two sizes bigger, and they can laugh about it later tonight and hopefully have a repeat of the spectacular sex it resulted in last time. 

Deciding he’s as close as he’s gonna get if he’s gonna make it in time before the conversation moves on, he turns towards them again. Trying to make it look deceivingly effortless as he closes the rest of the gap between them, he paints on his cockiest smile and shouts, loud enough to make sure they can hear him even though he’s barely within hearing range, “And his husband is a Texas R-“ 

Unfortunately he doesn’t get further than that because the thing that could absolutely not happen, happens. 

In his eagerness to interrupt the blatant flirting aimed at his husband, Carlos had accidentally turned his skis in the direction of the light downwards slope toward one of the bigger pistes, and, quickly losing forward momentum as soon as he didn’t give it his full attention, has now started to slide backwards. And this time he isn’t in the training area anymore and he won’t be caught by a fence. 

He sees TK’s eyes widen as his form gets smaller and smaller, and Carlos tries desperately to break, but he can barely break while going forwards, let alone when he’s going backwards, and he isn’t succeeding. In fact, he’s picking up speed, and a glance over his shoulder tells him he’s fast approaching the edge where the plateau changes to one of the steeper slopes.

In a last resort to prevent disaster Carlos lets himself fall ungracefully into the snow, but unfortunately, it’s too late. The concerned faces of people clad in ski suits of all colors swim in and out of his vision as he tumbles down the hill. The world spins dizzyingly around him like he’s the immobile center of a spinning snow globe depicting a ski-resort themed winter wonderland.

Through his dizziness, Carlos manages to send a prayer to the universe that he won’t bump into someone and cause some sort of mass casualty event, as he keeps tumbling for what feels like ages. At some point the tip of his left ski seems to catch on something causing a sharp pain to shoot through his ankle, making him cry out in pain.

The world spins a few more times and then he's landing on his back at what he assumes is the bottom of the slope. Squinting dazedly up at the clear blue sky he tries to catch his breath. Trying to move his leg which is bent at an odd ankle so he can sit up, he grimaces and lets out another cry as he’s reminded of twisting his ankle on the way down, the sharp pang settling to dull throb as he stops trying to move.

Turning only his head he sees the bright orange shape of TK in his ski suit zig-zagging down the hill at impressive speed. His hero, his wild heart, come to save him.

[daddy-dins-girl]

CAN YOU DO A PEDRO BOYS IDEAL FIRST DATE

Ok well I don't have an alignment chart for this one, but I can provide some headcanons!

And apologies, I didn't get ALL the boys in here, but I got a lot. Feel free to reblog with HC's of any of the boys I missed.

Hope this is somewhat what you had in mind!

PS: My ask box is always open.

Headcanons under the cut!

Joel Miller - Joel takes you to a bar. It’s a little divey, but not without its charm. There’s live music and all the furniture is made of rich mahogany that gleams even under the low lighting. Joel looks amazing, foregoing his usual flannel for a black button-down shirt that’s tucked into dark jeans and a brown leather belt. Once you’ve gotten your drinks from the bar he takes you to a round booth and slides in right next to you, slinging his arm over the back of the bench and over your shoulders so that there’s no question to anyone else in the establishment who exactly you came here with (and who you’re leaving with). The table he picked is close to the stage so that every time you want to talk to each other you need to lean in real close just to hear what the other is saying. You think he did that on purpose, and you think you like Joel. scorcher score:🌶️🌶️🌶️

Marcus Pike - Marcus has planned everything ahead of time. He has a reservation for a restaurant he knows you’d love, based on just the few short conversations you’d had previous to setting up this date. After your meal you take a romantic walk along the pier at his suggestion and you wonder why Marcus keeps checking his watch every few minutes until suddenly fireworks start bursting high in the sky above your heads and you realize he wanted to time your walk perfectly so that you wouldn’t miss the scheduled show. He’s literally so adorable you could melt. You pretend to be cold as you watch the colorful display in the sky so that he’ll maybe put his arm around you. He does, but not until after shrugging out of his suit jacket and laying it across your shoulders first. You have a second date on the books before the first one even ends. scorcher score:🌶️

Dave York - You’re certain it’s no coincidence that Dave picked a restaurant that happened to be inside of a fancy hotel. And to his credit, you’re at the concierge desk before dessert has even been served, pawing all over each other while he hands the clerk his AMEX card and reminds them you do not wish to be disturbed this evening.  scorcher score:🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Jack Daniels - Jack takes you to the rodeo. You’ve never been before so it’s actually really fun and exciting as he explains all the events to you and you look around in wonder at everything happening around you. Jack failed to mention, however, that he’s in the fucking rodeo. You don’t mind though because the whole bucking bronco thing? Kinda hot…  Later you make sure to tell him that, and to leave the hat on. scorcher score:🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Max Phillips - Max called it a “date” when he’d invited you. You (and literally everyone else including Webster’s Dictionary) would actually refer to what he’s brought you to as an orgy but… tomato/tomahto.  Max Phillips is an absolute menace, but you knew that already. scorcher score:🚨 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ 🚨

Javi Gutierrez - He takes you to the movies, of course. You half expect him to have rented out the entire theater for just the two of you, but once the movie starts playing you watch in awe of how into it he gets, eyes lighting up like a kid at Christmas. And it's not just the movie, but the joy he seems to get from sharing the experience with the hundred or so people around you. It’s sweet. He’s sweet.  scorcher score: 🌶️

Frankie Morales - He picks you up from your place and drives for a good hour up the coast line until he stops finally for what he tells you is the absolute best taco truck you’ll ever experience (and turns out, he’s not wrong). After dinner and an ice cream cone from another nearby food truck he holds your shoes (and your hand) as you take a walk down the beach on warm sand while soft summer waves lap at your feet. You absolutely let him get to 3rd base in the cab of his truck before he drops you off. scorcher score:🌶️🌶️🌶️

Javier Peña - It’s not exactly a date, but you do get a text to your phone at 2am. “U up?” scorcher score:🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Maxwell Lord - Maxwell wants to show you off. He takes you to a swanky party that is crawling with Washington’s social elites. Politicians, Diplomats and business men and women make up a majority of the guest list and he’s eager to have you on his arm when he makes introductions. The party is a little stuffy, a little boring, so when the entertainment portion of the evening begins and everyone is distracted, you and Maxwell happily sneak off to the back of the coat check room for your own private party instead. Maxwell turns out to be a little spicier than you originally gave him credit for.  scorcher score:🌶️🌶️🌶️

Oberyn Martell - see “Max Phillips”. scorcher score:🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Marcus Moreno - Marcus takes you to a carnival that happens to be in town for the weekend. You shove cotton candy in each other’s faces like complete dorks in love, share your first kiss at the top of the ferris wheel, walk the fairgrounds eating snow cones, and before the night is over Marcus wins you a teddy bear with a red ribbon around its neck that is literally so huge you can barely get it through your front door later that night when he drops you off.  scorcher score:🌶️🌶️

Dieter Bravo - very similar to Javier Peña, except the text he sends is all in emojis... “🍆 💦 🍑 ❓🥺” scorcher score:🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Choose your first date! It's a tough one but... gun to my head, I think I'm going with Frankie.

[dramioneasks]

New Year’s Day Fics (2024):

Glitter On The Dance Floor by wantsgmarie, WritexAboutxMe - E, one-shot - Following the events of You're My Home , Hermione gets her wish, and Draco escorts her to his Mother's annual New Year's Eve Gala. -or- They torment Lucius, drink champagne, dance and then fuck. Happy New Year's my loves. This story can be entirely read and enjoyed on its own, but the beginning does reference the events of part 1.

A Bottle of Blotson's by thepotterfamily - E, WIP - A little Christmas tale in which Hermione and Draco are workaholics spending the holidays in the Ministry halls together, but separate. In which Draco steals Hermione’s ink and makes up for it with the best gift she’s ever received. In a world where Draco is Hermione’s golden boy and Hermione is Draco’s saving grace, please enjoy my ten-part Christmas tale that is really more of a New Years Eve story. Eventually NSFW.

The Library Liaison by UltramarineOrchid - E, WIP - When Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy realise they’ll need to ring in the New Year by fake-dating, they think that’s just what comes with the job. Little do they know that they’re going to get far more than they bargained for.

New Years Past by magicalsydney (magicandmanuscripts) - G, one-shot - Five years of monumental New Years’ Eves for Hermione and Draco.

A New Year, Together by oceanxpoppy - E, one-shot - She was not fine. She could admit that. She hadn’t been fine in months, if she was honest with herself. It’s something she rarely was anymore, but the exhaustion of the evening had stripped her bare, and all that was left was the feeling she most abhorred; longing. A longing for a man who wanted absolutely nothing to do with her.

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? by Granger_Danger1234321 - not rated, one-shot - Draco and Hermione are the only single ones left out of their friend group. Draco proposes a fake dating arrangement to get them through the holiday season. Just a silly, fluffy holiday fic with a fake dating trope.

Raise a Toast by MarinaJune - M, one-shot - It's the cusp of a new year, and Draco Malfoy is finally ready to take the next step forward away from his grief and his pining. Ahead of him stands Minister Granger-Weasley. Recently-divorced. The centre of attention in a crowd high on hope and celebration.

ringing in the new year by moscovit - M, one-shot - Hermione hates parties, especially intimate ones. When she gets an invitation to Blaise Zabini's New Year's party, she's got no excuse not to go. But Blaise's girlfriend, Ginny, is kind of an ex friend now after a very public breakup with Ron, and they haven't spoke in weeks. This is the story of semi anti social Hermione suffering through a party with a group of friends she doesn't feel like she belongs with.

Midnight wish by Katibugg3 - not rated, one-shot - Hermione is attending the Malfoy's New Years Eve gala alone. Thank God for the expensive wine Draco always has for her.

New Year's Resolutions by arborlibrary - M, one-shot - Hermione had not seen him since the day she’d originally been dragged into his manor and tortured by Bellatrix, while he’d just watched. She’d always wondered if he’d ever make an appearance, after six years of absolutely detesting her at Hogwarts. But he never had, and none of the others had ever mentioned him, either. And he was alone. “Granger,” he finally whispered, remaining on his side of the locked gate. She cautiously approached, though still stayed out of reach. “What do you want?” she rasped, trying to remember how long it had even been since she’d last spoken. Now she was close enough to watch his throat bob as he gulped. “It’s New Year’s Eve.”

Can I Be Yours? by Wanderingfair - E, 2 chapters - “Stop stalling.” She laughed. “Right.” he confirmed, “I’m off to have a dastardly time bashing around Londo- oh, wait, no, I’m off to go meet the gold-digger Mum set me up with,” he snapped. “I get those two confused all the time.” “Go,” she urged, tucking her mouth into the sleeve of her jumper to hide her smile. “I’ll be up reading when you get home.” “You’ll be asleep on the library sofa and we both know it.” He winked, before closing the door. OR Hermione is forced to watch her best friend Draco Malfoy go on dates and finally confront the fact that she doesn't just love him, she is in love with him.

Draco Malfoy's Five Step Plan to Being Forgettable by OneEqualTemper - E, one-shot - Five times Draco said, “New year, new me!” and one time Hermione said, “But I like the old you.”

things that have never been by ohthedrarry - E, one-shot - 31 December 2009 – Draco finds himself sitting alone at a bar, much like he had in December 1999, bringing in the New Year with a glass of whiskey and a sense that this next decade won’t be any better than the last. Until Hermione Granger wanders in with mascara smudged under her eyes, demanding a dry martini.

make a wish by thatblondebitvh - M, one-shot - Theodore Nott's New Year's experiment goes wrong. Chaos ensues.

That One Night That Draco And Theo Sent A Message by allyseisfalling - E, one-shot - It's New Years Eve night and Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott decide to go hunting.

Zero O'Clock by forestknifefight - G, one-shot - “You,” Malfoy begins, drawing Hermione’s attention again. He still isn’t looking at her, favoring the book now held in both hands. His mouth drops open like he’s afraid to speak. “I…?” She prompts him to continue. She lets her arm relax against the table, her quill nearly falling from her hand. His mouth shuts momentarily. He inhales through his nose but still does not look up at her. “You aren’t celebrating.”

Happy New Year Draco Malfoy by MissusB - E, one-shot - After going through the emotional constipation of gifting Hermione his love all December, he finally gets to tell her in person. Even better, he gets to show her as they agree to spend New Year's evening together and maybe start a new tradition together.

[animalsalvationassociation]

Merry Christmas Octonauts Community!

[ Part 5 ! 🎄 ]

Hello . . . So I'm not exactly sure how to start this.

This small series of Oc drawings has taken me quite a while to put together. Only this week did I really have the guts to post all of them.

I just want to say how inspiring you all are to me, and that isn't just for the creators and their Oc's that I featured. I mean all of you. The entirety of the Octonauts Community. I feel a little silly but that's just because idk how people will really react. I've never done anything like this before, at least not on this scale (except for ArtFIght).

I hope your new years is well and I wish many happy creations your way! Have a wonderful morning / noon / evening and I'll see you on the flip side!

For the artists that I featured if you would like me to take down your Oc (my version and yours) just let me know. I want to respect you and your creations.

Again for the fifth time, I apologize for the quality, it was about 5pm when I finally finished the last character and didn't have the best set up lighting wise other than my window. But despite that I did my best to stay true to your character so I hope you like it!

And for everyone else, even if I wasn't able to draw your Oc I still want you to know how amazing they are. I had to pick from a very long list and I still feel like I didn't do enough. So just know that you're seen and your characters are absolutely beautiful!

I hope your new years is well and I wish many happy creations your way! Have a wonderful morning / noon / evening and I'll see you on the flip side!

Best Wishes,

Madison 💙

Artists Featured:

@casp1an-sea / @this-blog-is-for-good-vibes-only / @astro-nautic / @octonaut-belle / @chocokeyboard / @enbydemirainbowbigfoot / @novastaar / @c0nclavii / @starryqueen-18 / @bailey-dreamfoot / @mooshie-blue / @oatzimir / @calamaroo

[ All Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 ]

Banner Credit goes to @the-pixel-dream

[ ALL OC'S BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTED CREATOR — PLEASE SUPPORT ALL OF THE ORIGINAL ARTISTS ]

[di-42]

Fiction recommendation!

March Marvelous Fictions

The wonderful stories I've read in March, hope you like them as much as I did! Tagging the writers whose Tumblr username I know so they know they are loved and appreciated.

WIPs:

My Heart Was Always Yours by @addledmongoose

It's a slightly alternative universe where Aziraphale and Crowley have somehow never met each other until the present day and each thinks the other is a human.

Each of them has been tasked by their respective head offices to retrieve Raphael's trumpet and each of them wants to find and destroy it. The trumpet will be sold on earth at an illegal auction and in order to gain entry to the auction they have to pretend to be married.

This fiction has it all: characters' personalities are spot on, humour, wit, dynamic, romance, everything!

At the beginning you might feel slightly put off by the first person narrative but give it a couple of chapters and it will flow.

You won't regret it!

Rated M.

The Escort by VinyamaDN @vinyama-23

Human AU where Crowley is an escort and meet Azirapahle via his job. This fiction has a deep level of introspection, it can go from very angst-y to very funny in a matter of two lines and it's a wonderful journey!

Rated E

Complete works:

Infernal Escapes by Journeytogallifrey

Human AU where Crowley works at an escape room company. Aziraphale has always wanted to try escape rooms and finally does. You will have to read it to know the rest but this was such a lovely story, very low angst and a happy ending. I believed I did squeal in excitement at the nod to the whovians in the Roman room chapter.

Rated: Teen and up.

The Lies I Would Tell For You by vampiremama

A season 3 fiction with a beautiful, heartbreaking prologue but do keep reading, there's a happy endong! Azirapahle and Crowley find each other again and work together to stop the second coming. Lovely and imaginative.

Rated: E

Between The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea by @adverbian

Lovely, lovely, lovely short fiction where Aziraphale and Crowley are finally free from heaven and hell but are still... well, Aziraphale and Crowley! So, it's not like they've talked about their feeling for each other. Until someone else expresses interest in Aziraphale and Crowley loses it! Funny and heartwarming!

Rated: E

The Christmas Wedding Scammer by @aracloptia

Human AU where Crowley is an unemployed florist whose name is very similar to the incredibly famous and successful retired wedding planner Antonio Cowley. Anathema and Newton are planning their marriage and Aziraphale is the maid of honour. Oh, and gabriel is the priest celebrating the wedding. I loved the humour in this fiction and the way it captures the characters' personalities. Absolutely delightful.

Rated: Teen and up

Fire, bridges and other sensible idioms by KiaraMGrey

This wonderful, funny, witty fiction had me hooked up from the first sentence! Aziraphale has a new neighbour and things don't run smoothly. Hilarious enemies-to-lovers human AU with some of the best hot scenes I've ever read. Seriously, go and read it!

Rated: E

My wee fiction, Second Chances And Second Choices

Not half as good as any of the others I'm recommending (Or the ones I've left out) but it's my baby, so... Kind of season 3 fiction, post (failed) second coming. Aziraphale is hoping this is the beginning of his life with Crowley but Crowley seems to be of a different opinion. Until old enemies turn up at Aziraphale's door. Low angst, happy ending. I wish it had better humour, I wish some bits didn't feel as much of a stretch as they do but fair enough.

Rated: Teen and up.

Collection:

Bad Communication by Nebz_AlphaCentauri @alphacentaurinebula

This collection has three season 3 works: Bad Advice (Up There With A Suggestion Box); Bad Management (Up There With Not Allowing Questions); Bad Communication (Almost Ineffably Bad But Not Quite).

The stories are set a week after Aziraphale goes to heaven. One is from Crowley's POV, one from Aziraphale's POV and in the third one they finally talk. Funny and Heartwarming.

Rated: Teen and up.

One shots:

They Almost Made A Miracle (1941) by Koala2all

Lovey take on what happened at the bookshop after the magic trip.

Rated: E

Back At The Bookshop by @scottishmushroom

Lovely take of what could happen if Aziraphale went back to see Crowley.

Not rated.

I hope you enjoy these amazing stories and if you do don't forget to let the writers know!

February's list here.

April's list here.

[qqueenofhades]

Hi, I have been following your blog for a while now and you are just cool and awesome and lovely and you blog is fantastic. I hope you had a wonderful Christmas and I wish you the best of luck in the new year.

Aw, thank you!

I had a very nice and low-key Christmas with the family, and best of all, I don't have to go back to campus and/or work until January 6. I may have to answer a few emails late next week, but that will be about it. I even got to read for most of the day yesterday, such decadence. (Also, my parents got me a stand mixer. You know that I am old because I am very excited about this.)

I hope you had a nice holiday as well, and can observe, to the best of your ability, Liminal Spacemas, wherein you transform into a couch in the week between Christmas and New Year and do absolutely shit-all. So yes.

[mcafee-mami]

Christmas with Pat McAfee

I had so much fun writing the first one yesterday that I thought I'd continue! I hope you enjoy. Happy holidays!

Pat's always up before you. In fact, you're pretty sure he has yet to sleep, which isn't unusual; the man has energy for days.

He's torn because he hates to wake you, but he also can't wait for you to open your gifts.

He drags you out of bed - literally - and when you don't move fast enough, he picks you up and carries you out to the living room, littering your face with kisses and Christmas wishes along the way.

Just when you think he couldn't possibly outdo the previous Christmas, you set your eyes in front of the MASSIVE pile of presents surrounding the tree. Yet again, you question if Santa is real and if he's actually holding you at this very moment.

He sets you on the couch and immediately starts putting gifts in front of you. He has a set order in which he wants you to open them and saves the super special, often sentimental gifts for last.

Pat always likes to tout that he has the brain of an elephant and never forgets, and it's proved in this moment. A lot of gifts are things you said you wished you had or wanted in passing, often not remembering doing so yourself - but he remembers the time and the place for every one. It makes your heart swell.

For Pat, it's all about the giving, and he absolutely LOVES spoiling you like this. Moreover, he loves seeing the emotion that crosses your face with every gift you open: wonder, laughter, tears of joy.

You often feel like your gifts for him aren't enough in comparison, and whether he can sense that or not, you soon realize that is DEFINITELY not the case. To him, every gift might as well have been the keys to a car. You become absolutely dizzy from the amount of kisses and hugs he's given you. He is so appreciative and thankful.

When you finish opening your gifts and the adrenaline wears off, the lack of sleep starts to hit rather quickly. Pat's soon yawning and grabbing a blanket - and you - to cuddle with. You fall asleep on the couch next to the twinkling tree and discarded wrapping paper all over the floor, another Christmas in the books. It was the best one yet... until next year, that is.