#Magic babies are diamond eyes

[thesafireartist]

WAAAAAAA! Guys lookit! I’m in one of these!

Assfshsjssh I recognized Lumi and Ghoste’s style right away and for some others I was like ooh, who is this? And then I checked out their pages, immediately followed, and was like. Yeah you pretty much captured them perfectly

BUT BACK TO ME YOU GOT MY STYLE PERFECTLY WHAT THE HECK? Like I can never do this type of challenge bc I can’t really get another person’s style but you NAILED mine! The soft lineart brush and the way I draw fluff and the shine in the eyes and the nose!

ALSO ALSO sonshadamy fankids hmmmm? 👀 IMMA DRAW THEM JUST YOU WAIT they look so cool! Makes me want to make a separate AU from team fission to make some of my own….

HA- I said I would make my own version of this didn't I?

And yeah I know, your only supposed to draw one oc, but hey when you have a template of 6 and 6 sonic ocs, you use that opportunity to finally draw the three from your second AU that you never draw but love dearly

Anyway, this was super fun! I even had a hard time picking my mutuals because everyone has an amazing style!!💕💕✨️💕

Here's everyone so that you can follow them if you don't already

@lumivall

@specialistmj

@m3tr0n0m333

@head---ache

@galacticghoste

@thesafireartist

[taw-k]

Rahhhhh the urge to make an EXTREMELY long post about all my thoughts on Loki's mother.

[methsaint]

list of all lana unreleased, demos & covers

unreleased songs

1. You Can Be The Boss (leaked)

2. Kinda Outta Luck (leaked)

3. Oooh Baby (= “Are You Ready?”) (leaked)

4. Hundred Dollar Bill (leaked)

5. Driving in Cars With Boys (leaked)

7. Daddy Issues (= “I Was In A Bad Way”) (leaked)

8. Trash Magic (leaked)

9. Paris (= “Take Me To Paris”) (leaked)

10. Heavy Hitter (leaked)

11. Dum Dum (3 different versions) (leaked)

12. Match Made In Heaven (leaked)

13. She’s Not Me (= “Ride or Die”) (leaked)

14. Pin Up Galore (leaked)

15. Dangerous Girl (leaked)

16. Never Let Me Go (leaked)

17. Children Of The Bad Revolution (leaked)

19. Marilyn Monroe (= “Puppy Love”) (leaked)

20. Come When You Call Me America (2 different versions) (leaked)

21. 1949 (leaked)

22. You’re Gonna Love Me (leaked)

23. Put the Radio On (leaked)

24. Gangsta Boy (leaked)

25. Summer of Sam (leaked)

26. Serial Killer (leaked)

27. Go Go Dancer (leaked)

28. Delicious (leaked)

29. Big Bad Wolf (= “Hot Hot Hot”) (leaked)

30. Playing Dangerous (leaked)

31. Afraid (leaked)

32. Hollywood’s Dead (leaked)

33. Damn You (= “American Dream”) (leaked)

34. Lift Your Eyes (leaked)

35. Boarding School (leaked)

36. Butterflies (leaked)

37. Every Man Gets His Wish (leaked)

38. Fordham Road (leaked)

39. Motel 6 (leaked)

40. Paradise (leaked)

41. Velvet Crowbar (leaked)

42. Fake Diamond (2 versions) (leaked)

43. Backfire (leaked)

44. Moi Je Joue (leaked)

45. Last Girl On Earth (leaked)

46. Live or Die (leaked)

47. Push Me Down (leaked)

48. Teenage Wasteland (= “Prom Song” [Gone Wrong]) (leaked)

49. Tonight (= “I Don’t Wanna Go”) (leaked)

50. My Best Days (leaked)

51. Break My Fall (leaked)

52. Catch and Release (leaked)

53. Crooked Cop (leaked)

54. Is It Wrong? (leaked)

55. Jealous Girl (leaked)

56. Hawaiian Tropic (leaked)

57. Heartshaped Chevrolet (leaked)

58. Hit and Run (2 versions) (leaked)

59. Making Out (2 versions) (leaked)

60. Noir (leaked)

61. Scarface (leaked)

62. TV In Black & White (leaked)

63. Us Against The World (leaked)

64. Midnight Dancer Girlfriend (leaked)

65. Maha Maha (leaked)

66. Television Heaven (leaked)

67. Golden Grill (leaked)

68. Beautiful Player (leaked)

69. Dynamite (leaked)

70. Breaking My Heart (leaked)

71. Black Beauty (leaked)

72. Hollywood (leaked)

73. Angels Forever (Forever Angels) (leaked)

74. Starry Eyed (leaked)

75. JFK (leaked)

76. Butterflies Pt. 2 (leaked)

77. Daytona Meth (leaked)

78. Tired Of Singing The Blues (leaked)

79. St. Tropez (= “Party Girl”) (leaked)

80. Queen Of Disaster (leaked)

81. All Smiles (leaked)

82. Bentley

83. Betty Boop Boop (leaked)

84. Born Bad Bay

85. Caught You Boy

86. C U L8r Alligator (leaked)

87. Criminals Run The World (= “Hit And Run” alternate version) (leaked)

88. Cry Me A River

89. Girl That Got Away

90. I Was In A Bad Way (= “Daddy Issues” alternate version) (leaked)

91. I’m Fucked

92. Kindness of Strangers

93. Mermaid Hotel (leaked)

94. Put Your Lips Together (leaked)

95. Resistance

96. Roses

97. Ruby Tuesday

98. Slow Gin Fizz

99. So Legit (= “Against Gaga”) (leaked)

100. Smarty (leaked)

101. Playground (leaked)

102. Wrong

103. Strange Love (leaked)

104. Bollywood Hawaii (leaked)

105. Baby Blue Love (leaked)

106. I Want It All

107. Behind Closed Doors (leaked)

108. Jimmy Gnecco (leaked)

109. Break The Cycle

110. Epiphany

111. Jonah

112. Little Angel

113. Lullubye

114. True Love On The Side (leaked)

115. Living Without You (= “TV In Black & White” alternate version) (leaked)

116. True Love

117. Greenwich (leaked)

118. Shadow Of A Doubt (leaked)

119. Get Drunk (leaked)

120. BBM Baby

121. Be My Daddy

122. China Palace

123. Dance Money

124. Fine China

125. For Charlie

126. Living Legend

127. Morricone

128. Piano Theme

129. W

130. Yes To Heaven

131. Ridin’/My Bitch (feat. The Kickdrums & A$AP) (leaked)

132. Back To Tha Basics (leaked)

133. Because of You (leaked)

134. Coca Colla (= “Television Heaven” alternate version) (leaked)

135. Hangin’ Around (leaked)

136. In The Sun (leaked)

137. Joshy & I (leaked)

138. Let My Hair Down (leaked)

139. Live Forever (leaked)

140. Meet Me In The Pale Moonlight (leaked)

141. Methamphetamines (leaked)

142. On Our Way (leaked)

143. Stoplight De-lite (leaked)

144. Trash (leaked)

145. Wayamaya (leaked)

146. You & Me (leaked)

147. Your Band Is All The Rage (leaked)

148. The good life (leaked)

149. Zodiac (snippet leaked)

150. Ave Maria

151. Pink Champagne (leaked)

152. Fine china (leaked)

153. Dragonslayer (leaked)

154. Poetry in motion (leaked)

155. There’s nothing to be sorry about

156. All for you

157. Unidentified flying bill

158. Smile

159. California

160. In wendy

161. More mountains

162. When i’m with you

163. French restaurant (leaked)

164. Coconut & key lime pie

165. Sweetheart

166. Roses bloom for you (leaked)

167. I must be stupid for being so happy

168. Earthquakes

169. Star lux

170. Eat for free

171. Wait

172. Crazy for you

173. Blizzard

albums

Lana Del Ray (Steven Mertens recordings)

Tracklist: unknown

Lizzy Grant and the Phenomena (leaked)

Tracklist:

1. Disco

2. For K Part 2 (Demo)

Sparkle Jump Rope Queen (leaked)

Tracklist:

1. Axl Rose Husband

2. Elvis

3. Blue Ribbon (= “Gramma”)

The Money Hunny Recordings (leaked)

Tracklist:

1. Money Hunny

2. A Star For Nick

3. Rehab (“For K Part 2″ Demo)

4. Pawn Shop Blues (Demo)

May Jailer – Sirens (leaked)

Tracklist:

1. Sirens (Titled as “For K”)

2. Next to Me

3. A Star for Nick

4. My Momma

5. Bad Disease

6. Out with a Bang

7. Westbound

8. Try Tonight

9. All You Need

10. I’m Indebited to You

11. Pretty Baby (Or “For K”)

12. Aviation

13. Find My Own Way

14. Pride

15. Birds of A Feather

Lana del Ray AKA Lizzy Grant

Tracklist:

1. Kill Kill

2. Queen of the gas station

3. Oh say can you see

4. Gramma (Blue Ribbon Sparkler Trailer Heaven)

5. For K Pt. 2

6. Jump

7. Mermaid Motel

8. Raise me up (Mississippi south)

9. Pawn shop blues

10. Brite lites

11. Put me in a movie

12. Smarty

13. Yayo

demos

1. Born To Die (2 different versions) (leaked)

2. Blue Jeans (leaked)

3. Video Games (leaked)

4. Diet Mountain Dew (3 different versions, also known as Diet Mnt Dew) (leaked)

5. National Anthem (2 different versions) (leaked)

6. Dark Paradise (2 different versions, one with other lyrics) (leaked)

7. Radio (leaked)

8. Carmen (2 different versions, one of them is acapella with other lyrics) (leaked)

9. Million Dollar Man (leaked)

10. This Is What Makes Us Girls (2 different versions) (leaked)

11. Without You (2 different versions, one with other lyrics) (leaked)

12. Lolita (4 different versions, also known as Hey Lolita Hey or Lolyta) (leaked)

13. Lucky Ones (leaked)

14. Driving in Cars with Boys (leaked)

15. Hundred Dollar Bill (leaked)

16. Heavy Hitter (leaked)

17. Yayo (leaked)

18. Trash Magic (leaked)

19. Ghetto Baby (Demo for Cheryl Cole) (leaked)

20. White Pontiac Heaven (= “Axl Rose Husband” alternate version) (leaked)

21. Summertime Sadness (leaked)

22. Young & Beautiful (leaked)

23. Jump (leaked)

24. Put Me In A Movie (leaked)

25. Brite Lites (leaked)

26. Unfixable (Demo for Shades of cool) (leaked)

27. Miss America (demo 1 and 2)

28. Beautiful people beautiful problems (leaked)

29. Freak (leaked)

30. Thunder (leaked)

other songs – live/covers/collaborations

1. The End of the World (Skeeter Davies Cover)

2. Iron (with Woodkid) released

3. Chet Baker (with Mando Diao) released

4. Gloria (with Mando Diao) released

5. The Happiest Girl In The Whole U.S.A. (Donna Fargo Cover)

6. Ten Dollar Ring (with Bryan Dunn)

7. Goodbye Kiss (Kasabian Cover)

8. Heart-Shaped Box (Nirvana Cover)

9. Blue Velvet (Bobby Vinton Cover – for H&M) released

10. Chelsea Hotel No. 2 (Leonard Cohen Cover)

11. Summer Wine (Lee Hazlewood & Nancy Sinatra Cover)

12. Spender (feat. Smiler) released

13. Dayglo Reflection (feat. Bobby Womack) released

14. Cry Me A River (Various)

15. I Love Paris (Ella Fitzgerald Cover)

16. Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door (Bob Dylan Cover)

17. Roadhouse Blues (The Doors Cover)

18. Why Don’t You Do Right? (Peggy Lee Cover)

19. Wonderwall (Oasis Cover)

20. Some Things Last A Long Time (Daniel Johnston Cover) released

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Santa Baby

pairing: pedro pascal x f! popstar girlfriend

The stage was bathed in warm, festive light as snowflakes made of glitter descended from the rafters. The audience buzzed with excitement, eagerly awaiting the star of the night. Y/N’s highly anticipated Christmas special was live, showcasing her new holiday album. Fans worldwide tuned in to witness her performance, and among them was her proudest supporter her boyfriend-turned-fiancé, Pedro Pascal, seated in the front row.

Y/N’s voice soared through classic carols and original songs, each note wrapping the room in holiday magic. Dressed in a red velvet gown that shimmered under the lights, she was the picture of festive elegance. Her diamond necklace sparkled with every turn, but her smile was the true showstopper. Pedro leaned forward in his seat, utterly entranced, his warm brown eyes never leaving her.

Then came the moment that would be talked about for weeks. The band struck up the jazzy, slinky notes of Santa Baby, and the audience erupted into cheers. The curtains parted to reveal Y/N in a dazzling new outfit: a fitted red velvet bodice trimmed with soft white fur, paired with thigh-high boots and a sparkling Santa hat. She strutted across the stage, microphone in hand, her playful grin promising something extraordinary.

Pedro chuckled as she made eye contact with him, her flirty energy aimed directly his way. He shook his head, already knowing she was about to steal the show.

Her sultry voice filled the air:

Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me���

The crowd swayed along, their energy building with every lyric. Y/N’s performance was captivating, her charm impossible to resist. Pedro’s grin grew wider as she playfully gestured toward him during the bridge:

Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

The audience roared with laughter and applause at her antics. Pedro, his face beaming with pride, clapped along, his eyes shining with admiration. But then, the atmosphere shifted as she reached the iconic line:

Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing a ring…

Y/N paused dramatically, her voice trailing off as she raised her left hand. The spotlight caught it, making the enormous diamond engagement ring glitter like the North Star. Gasps and cheers erupted from the crowd, and Pedro froze, caught completely off guard. For a moment, he looked stunned, but then his face broke into the most radiant smile, his eyes glassy with emotion.

The cameras panned to him, capturing his reaction as he stood, clapping and laughing, his expression one of pure love and pride. Y/N flashed him a cheeky grin, finishing the line with a twist:

…and I don’t mean on the phone!

The theater exploded with applause. Y/N gave a playful twirl, blowing Pedro a kiss and mouthing, I love you. He returned it with a blown kiss of his own, shaking his head as if to say, You’re unbelievable.

By the time Y/N finished her set, the news had already gone viral. Social media lit up with clips of the performance, fans gushing over her flawless vocals and Pedro’s swooning reaction. Headlines blared:

“Pop Star Y/N Drops Engagement Bombshell During Christmas Special!”

“Pedro Pascal and Y/N Are Officially Engaged And It’s the Holiday Surprise We Didn’t Know We Needed!”

The next morning, Pedro sat on the couch, scrolling through endless memes of his smitten expression. Y/N curled up beside him under a cozy blanket, her engagement ring catching the morning light.

“You really couldn’t wait to tell the world, huh?” he teased, showing her a tweet comparing him to a love-struck Hallmark movie character.

“What can I say?” she replied with a smirk. “I like making a statement.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Good. I want everyone to know I’m the luckiest man alive.”

Her smile softened as she laced her fingers with his. “Merry Christmas, Pedro.”

“Merry Christmas, future Mrs. Pascal.”

That evening, as the snow continued to drift softly outside, they decided to celebrate their engagement with a romantic soak in the outdoor hot tub. The steam swirled into the crisp winter air, and the glow of the nearby fire pit illuminated the space, casting flickering shadows over the snow-covered patio.

Y/N stepped out onto the deck, wrapped in a plush robe, her cheeks rosy from the cold. Pedro was already in the tub, leaning back against the edge with his arms sprawled out, the muscles of his chest glistening from the rising steam. His dark eyes fixed on her with a heat that rivaled the bubbling water.

“Come on in, future Mrs. Pascal,” he teased, his voice low and inviting.

Y/N smirked, dropping the robe to reveal her figure in a deep red bikini that matched the festive mood of the weekend. Pedro’s breath hitched, his gaze dragging over her like she was the only thing in the world.

“You’re staring,” she said playfully as she descended into the water, the warmth enveloping her instantly.

“Can you blame me?” he replied, his voice rough as he pulled her closer the moment she settled in. “Look at you. You’re stunning.”

She slid onto his lap, her legs straddling his waist, and wrapped her arms around his neck. The contrast of the hot water and the cool winter air made her shiver slightly, but Pedro’s hands on her hips quickly warmed her up.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Pascal,” she murmured, trailing her fingers along his jawline.

Pedro chuckled, but it quickly turned into a groan when her lips brushed against his. The kiss started slow, a gentle exploration, but quickly deepened as the tension between them simmered into something hotter than the water surrounding them. His hands roamed her back, sliding lower as he held her firmly against him.

“You know,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire, “you completely ruined me last night with that performance.”

“Good,” she whispered, biting her lip as she looked at him. “I wanted to drive you crazy.”

“Mission accomplished,” he said, his grip tightening as he kissed her again, his lips moving down to her neck, trailing over her collarbone.

“Pedro,” she breathed, her voice a mix of a plea and a tease.

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his dark eyes blazing. “Say it again,” he murmured.

“Pedro,” she repeated, her hands framing his face as her lips brushed against his in the faintest of kisses.

“No,” he whispered, his smirk returning as his hands dipped into the water, pulling her closer. “The other thing. The thing I’ve been waiting to hear all day.”

She smiled, her heart thundering in her chest. “I love you, future husband.

Pedro’s laughter rumbled through the air before he captured her lips again, the kiss slow, sensual, and filled with the kind of love that made the world stand still. And as snowflakes melted on their heated skin, they knew this was the start of a holiday season they’d never forget.

[p0orbaby]

All I Want for Christmas

summary: your daughter didn’t get the one present she really wanted

warnings: none !

a/n: thank you for the request, i hope you like it !

word count: 2.9k

-

You notice something’s off with Eliana two days after Christmas. At first, it’s subtle—an anomaly so slight it could almost be chalked up to post-holiday fatigue. Normally, mornings with Eliana are chaotic in a way that feels both exhausting and oddly necessary, as though the house depends on her noise to keep it from crumbling into silence. She bursts into the day like a firework: her small feet slapping against the wood floors, her hair a wild halo of dark curls, her voice ricocheting between pitches as she narrates her life in real time or belts out whatever song has recently embedded itself in her psyche.

Today, there’s none of that. She lingers in her pyjamas—a pair with faded unicorns that she refuses to let you throw away despite the fraying cuffs��long after breakfast. When you remind her to brush her teeth, she drags her feet, her movements lethargic in a way that feels rehearsed, like she’s trying to stretch each step into eternity. It’s the absence of urgency that unsettles you. Eliana thrives on urgency. She once cried because Alexia beat her to the front door when the postman rang.

But this morning, there’s no competition. No noise. No off-key rendition of Vampire by Olivia Rodrigo echoing from the bathroom as she “forgets” to spit out her toothpaste. You’re struck by how quiet the house feels. Not peaceful—just wrong.

By lunch, the feeling hardens into certainty. Eliana picks at her sandwich with the detached precision of someone performing a task they’ve been paid to complete. She peels the crust away slowly, meticulously, her small fingers working like a jeweller inspecting a flawed diamond. The crust sits in a neat pile beside her plate, untouched. So do the carrot sticks you’ve artfully arranged into a star shape—an attempt to disguise healthy food as something fun. Usually, she’d at least nibble on the points before declaring them “too crunchy.” Today, she doesn’t even bother with the charade.

And then there’s the Coke. You could write a thesis on Eliana’s Coke-stealing habits. How she waits, biding her time like a cat stalking prey, until you’re sufficiently distracted—mid-sentence, mid-bite, mid-thought. The moment your guard drops, she strikes: clutching the can with both hands, her face breaking into a grin so triumphant it’s impossible to be mad. You always let her have one sip, though you draw the line at more. She doesn’t push her luck; she knows where the boundary is and takes satisfaction in skirting it.

But today, the Coke sits untouched. You leave it on the table deliberately, watching her from the corner of your eye, waiting for the familiar rustle of movement. It doesn’t come. She doesn’t even glance at it.

Alexia notices it too. She’s standing at the kitchen sink, rinsing the cutting board she insists on hand-washing because the dishwasher “ruins the wood” (a claim you’ve never verified but don’t argue against). “She’s been quiet today,” Alexia murmurs, glancing towards the living room. Her tone is casual, but there’s an edge of concern beneath it.

You follow her gaze. Eliana is curled up on the sofa, her knees drawn to her chest, her chin resting on top of them. The TV plays some saccharine animated film about magical snowmen and plucky penguins—one of those films where everything sparkles unnaturally, and the characters blink too often. Normally, Eliana would be transfixed, laughing at all the wrong parts and narrating the plot aloud despite everyone already watching. But today, she’s motionless. Her eyes are glassy, unfocused, as though the screen is a window to a world she can’t quite enter.

“Maybe she’s tired,” you say, though you don’t believe it. Eliana doesn’t do tired. Even as a baby, she fought sleep like it was a personal enemy, crying herself hoarse rather than admit defeat. Sleep was a battle you rarely won outright; most nights, you settled for a stalemate.

Alexia doesn’t look convinced either. She dries her hands on a dishtowel, her brow furrowed. “I don’t know,” she says. “This isn’t like her”

It isn’t. And that terrifies you in a way you can’t fully articulate. You watch her from the kitchen doorway, your hand resting lightly on the frame, as though bracing yourself against an invisible weight. She looks small. Fragile. The kind of fragile that makes you want to wrap her in bubble wrap and keep her from the world.

But it’s not her size that unnerves you—it’s the silence. Eliana’s silence feels like an absence, like something crucial has been taken away without your permission. You can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong, though you don’t know what.

And that, more than anything, is what scares you.

-

You get your answer that evening, during bedtime. Eliana’s room is a testament to her devotion to pink—a monochromatic sanctuary where even the air seems tinged with a rosy hue. The walls are painted a soft blush, a decision you regretted halfway through applying the third coat but one you could never take back once she saw the finished product and declared it “princess perfect.” Her duvet cover is a riot of pastel stars, most faded from repeated wash cycles and the occasional chocolate milk spill. On her bedside table sits a lamp with a shade adorned with tiny ballerinas, their poses forever frozen mid-pirouette.

The bookshelves, crammed to the edges, are an organised chaos of her literary life. Picture books dominate the lower shelves—familiar titles with tattered spines that you could recite in your sleep (Guess How Much I Love You has practically become your mantra). Higher up, a collection of chapter books gathers dust, ambitious purchases she insisted on during a trip to the bookstore, her eyes wide with determination. She struggles with the longer words but refuses to ask for help, insisting on piecing together syllables with the kind of stubborn grit that feels both infuriating and endearing. She gets that from you.

You tuck her in with the practised efficiency of someone who has made a ritual out of bedtime. She clutches Mr Snuggles, a stuffed rabbit so battered it looks like it’s survived a war zone. He’s missing an eye, his fur matted beyond recognition, but to Eliana, he’s irreplaceable. You know this because you’ve tried to replace him—multiple times, in fact. You’ve scoured boutique toy stores, online shops, and even eBay, searching for a plush rabbit with vaguely similar dimensions. Each attempt has been met with disdain. “It’s not him,” she always says, clutching Mr Snuggles tighter as though you’d threatened to take him away permanently.

“You’ve been quiet today,” you say, brushing a strand of dark hair away from her face. Her hair has reached that awkward in-between length where it’s too long to leave unchecked but too short to do anything meaningful with. She hates the hairdressers, the stiff capes they drape over her, and the stylist’s endless chatter about her favourite Disney princess. You’ll have to bribe her with ice cream to get her there.

She doesn’t respond immediately. Her gaze drifts upwards, her eyes fixed on the ceiling as though it holds the answer to some unspoken question. Her fingers tighten around Mr Snuggles, her thumb absently stroking the spot where his eye used to be. Finally, she speaks.

“Santa didn’t bring me what I wanted”

Your stomach twists in the way it does when you know something is wrong, but you can’t yet identify what. “What do you mean?” you ask, keeping your tone light. “He brought you loads of things. That dollhouse you’ve been asking for since May, the colouring set with the glitter pens—”

“No,” she interrupts, her voice soft but resolute. “I wanted a sister”

You blink. “You wanted what?”

“A sister,” she repeats, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And he didn’t bring me one”

For a moment, you’re too stunned to respond. Your brain cycles through a series of fragmented thoughts: What? When? How? You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting Alexia to materialise in the doorway, her presence offering a lifeline. But the hallway is empty, save for the faint hum of the washing machine on its spin cycle. You’re on your own.

“When… when did you ask Santa for a sister?” you manage, your voice strained with the effort of keeping a straight face.

“At school,” she says matter-of-factly. “We wrote letters. Miss García said we could ask for anything we wanted”

“And you asked for a sister?”

She nods, her expression solemn in the way only a six-year-old can manage when they think they’ve been wronged.

“And you didn’t think to mention this to me? Or Mamá?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise”

You press your fingers to your temples, as if physically holding your head together will help you process what you’re hearing. A surprise. Of course. Eliana watches you with wide eyes, her expression expectant. It dawns on you that she’s waiting for an explanation.

“Well,” you begin, your words slow and deliberate, as though carefully navigating a minefield, “Santa doesn’t… bring people as presents”

“Why not?”

Because it’s illegal. Because Santa isn’t real. Because your wife and I can barely handle the one child we already have.

“Because,” you say instead, stalling, “that’s not how it works. Sisters are… different. You don’t get them from Santa”

Her brow furrows, and for a moment, she looks startlingly like Alexia—her small face drawn into a frown of concentration, as though dissecting your words for hidden meaning. “Then where do they come from?”

You pause, the weight of the question settling over you like a heavy blanket. There are a dozen ways you could answer this, most of them wildly inappropriate for a six-year-old. You settle on, “From Parents, sweetheart”

She considers this for a moment, her head tilting slightly to the side. “So can you and Mamá make me one?”

The question hangs in the air, absurd and sincere in equal measure. You feel a sudden, overwhelming urge to laugh. Or cry. Or both. “It’s not that simple, Eliana”

“Why not?”

Before you can answer, Alexia appears in the doorway, her hair pulled into a loose bun, her face flushed from the effort of folding laundry. She takes one look at your face, at the strained expression and the faint sheen of panic in your eyes, and bursts out laughing.

-

Later that night, after Eliana is finally asleep, you and Alexia sit in the living room, letting the weight of the day settle over you. The room is dim except for the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights, blinking lazily in alternating patterns. The air smells faintly of pine needles and the remnants of the vanilla candle Alexia lit hours ago but forgot to blow out. There’s an almost sacred stillness in the house, the kind that feels rare and precious when you have a six-year-old.

Alexia hands you a glass of wine, her fingers brushing yours for a moment longer than necessary. She sits beside you on the sofa, curling her legs beneath her and pulling a blanket over both of your laps. She’s wearing an oversized hoodie—yours, you think, judging by the way the sleeves swallow her hands—and a pair of faded joggers. Her hair is loose, falling in soft waves around her face, and there’s a faint smudge of mascara beneath one eye that she hasn’t bothered to wipe off.

She looks tired but beautiful, the kind of beauty that feels effortless and intimate, like a secret only you’re privy to. It makes your chest ache in a way you don’t entirely understand.

“So,” she says, breaking the silence, “our daughter asked Santa for a sister”

You exhale, shaking your head as you take a sip of wine. It’s red, something bold and expensive that Alexia brought home last week. She has a knack for choosing good wine, even though she always claims it’s pure luck. “She did”

“And she’s heartbroken Santa didn’t deliver,” Alexia adds, her tone half-amused, half-disbelieving.

“She is,” you say, setting your glass on the coffee table. The table itself is covered in the detritus of Christmas: an abandoned roll of wrapping paper, a pair of scissors, and the instructions for the dollhouse you spent three hours assembling on Christmas Eve while Alexia supervised with a glass of champagne in hand.

Alexia leans back, stretching her legs across your lap. Her socked feet are warm against your thigh, and she wiggles her toes absently as she looks at you. “What do you think?” she asks, her voice light, as if she’s testing the waters.

“About Eliana asking for a sister?”

“No,” she says, her lips twitching into a small smile. “About giving her one”

You laugh, a short, sharp sound that feels more defensive than amused. “You can’t be serious”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” you repeat, incredulous. “Because we barely survived the first time around. Do you not remember the colic? The sleepless nights? The time she screamed for three hours straight because she didn’t like the colour of her bib?”

Alexia tilts her head, as if genuinely considering your words. “She was a baby. That’s what babies do”

“Exactly. And you want to do it all over again?”

Her smile widens, and there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes now. “Maybe”

You groan, leaning your head back against the sofa. “You’re insane”

“I’m not,” she insists, nudging your thigh with her foot. “Think about it. Eliana’s older now. She’s more independent. She’s in school most of the day. We’re not in the trenches anymore”

“The trenches,” you mutter, reaching for your wine again.

Alexia shifts closer, her foot still resting against your thigh. “I loved it, you know. All of it. Even the hard parts”

“You loved it?”

“Yes,” she says firmly. “I loved being a mum to a newborn. Watching her grow, seeing all the little things she learned every day. It was… magical”

You glance at her, and the soft, wistful expression on her face makes something inside you twist.

“And you,” she continues, her voice lowering slightly, “you were amazing”

“Alexia,” you say, a hint of warning in your tone.

“I’m serious,” she says, her hand finding yours beneath the blanket. Her fingers are warm, her grip gentle but insistent. “You were. You still are. And when you were pregnant…”

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

She grins, her teeth catching the light. “You were insatiable”

“Oh, for God’s sake”

“It’s true,” she says, laughing now. “I could barely keep up with you”

“You managed,” you mutter, taking another sip of wine.

Her laughter fades into a softer, more thoughtful smile. “I’m just saying,” she says, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand, “I wouldn’t mind doing it all over again”

You study her, trying to discern if she’s really serious or just testing the waters. But there’s something in her eyes, a quiet certainty that unnerves you.

“You really want another baby,” you say, not quite a question.

She nods. “I do”

“And when were you planning on telling me this?”

She shrugs, looking faintly sheepish. “I don’t know. I guess I was waiting for the right moment”

“Like now? After our daughter guilt-tripped us with her Santa request?”

Alexia laughs, and the sound is warm and infectious. “Exactly”

You shake your head, but a small smile tugs at your lips despite yourself. “You’re unbelievable”

“I’m practical,” she counters. “Think about it. We can afford it. We have the space. The time. A great support system. Mami would love to help us out again”

You raise an eyebrow. “You want to tell her we’re thinking about having another baby? You know she’ll start knitting booties the second the words leave your mouth”

Alexia shrugs, unbothered. “Let her. Eliana would love matching booties for her and her sibling”

The image of Eliana holding a tiny, wriggling baby flashes in your mind, unbidden. It’s too cute, too perfect, and you push it away before it can take root.

“It’s not just about logistics,” you say quietly.

“I know,” Alexia says, her voice softening. “But we’ve done this before. We know what to expect now. And we’re not the same people we were back then. We’re stronger. Better”

You glance at her, at the quiet confidence in her expression, and feel a pang of guilt for doubting her. She’s right, of course. You’ve come so far since those early days with Eliana. But still, the thought of starting over feels overwhelming.

“I don’t know,” you say finally. “It’s a lot to think about”

Alexia nods, her thumb still tracing slow circles on the back of your hand. “I’m not asking for a decision tonight. Just… think about it”

You nod, letting your head rest against her shoulder. The wineglass dangles from your fingers, forgotten. The weight of her hand on yours, the steady rise and fall of her breath, grounds you.

For a moment, the two of you sit in silence, the only sound the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Then Alexia speaks again, her voice so soft you almost don’t hear her.

“She’d be a great big sister,” she says. “Don’t you think?”

You close your eyes, letting the words settle over you. In your mind’s eye, you see Eliana again, her wide, hopeful eyes as she clutched Mr Snuggles to her chest. You see her laughing, running through the park with a smaller version of herself trailing behind her.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “She would”

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (the holiday special) r.cameron

[Warnings]soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, NONCON, dd/lg, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, heavy on the somnophilia, ittle editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 1.6k

In which it's your first Christmas Eve with your Daddy, you don't know what you want but Rafe surely does.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

You could think of three things that you wanted for Christmas. Colored pencils, glitter lipgloss, and a small stuffed animal for Bunny. You don’t need any more clothes. You’d been with Rafe for over a month, and there were still clothes in your wardrobe that you had not worn yet. Your room was heaven, with the softest sheets and pillows, and Rafe bought you even more playthings each week. 

Your last gift was a diamond bracelet Rafe gave you because of how well you behaved in front of his friend, Barry. He didn’t punish you for sneaking around downstairs. All you had to do was bring him a slice of cake and sit down on Rafe’s lap while the two of them talked about “getting rid of their problem.” 

There were several trees around the house, but the biggest one was in the living room, by the fireplace, and it was at least two times your height. There were at least twenty presents underneath the tree already, wrapped neatly in paper that was decorated with pink snowflakes. In cozy reindeer pajamas, ones Rafe had also purchased, you sat near the tree checking over your letter to Santa. Although you had a feeling Rafe might secretly be Santa, you let a small part of you believe it was real magic. 

Lana helped you write the letter, and now you were adding a few drawings and stickers to really jazz it up. It took you longer to write it than Rafe preferred, it was already Christmas Eve, but if Santa could somehow bring you exactly what you wanted tomorrow, you’d really believe in him. 

“You almost finished, baby?” 

You looked up to see Rafe entering the living room, most likely finished with his work day, “I couldn’t think of anything else to ask for,” You said quietly, remembering how much Rafe encouraged you to ask for absolutely anything. The truth was you never had anything so you didn’t know what to ask for, “I don’t think I need anything else. But I wrote a nice letter for Santa and I thanked him for everything he does. And I made it sparkly.”

Rafe made himself comfortable on the couch and you brought over your letter, “C’mere,” He said, pulling your legs over his lap before wrapping one arm around you, “This is beautiful work, kid. Santa is going to love it.”

You looked up at him, a smile on his face as he read the words over, “What did you ask Santa for, Daddy?”

“Well, since I already have you,” He squeezed you, making your heart leap in your chest, “I asked Santa to make sure that you have the best Christmas. That you’ll love every gift you get and we’ll have a nice, Christmas dinner.”

You smiled back at him, “I wish I could buy you something, Daddy.”

“No need,” Rafe leaned in to kiss the side of your forehead, “I like giving to you, and I have plenty of money for the both of us. Besides, you’re way too little.” 

When Rafe looked at you, he really looked at you. He held your face in his hands, not tight enough to bruise, so you wouldn’t look away. You were still learning not to feel shy under his gaze. You started to understand that you were just like the gifts sitting under the tree. You were Rafe’s gift to himself. He showed his possession of you through his gaze. 

“Your bows are a nice touch,” He complimented, taking notice of the red ribbons tied around your pigtails. Every morning you spent time doing your hair, and you were slowly learning how to do your makeup. When he noticed your efforts, you felt you were fulfilling your purpose, “And I already knew you’d look cute in your pajamas.”

Rafe liked it when you presented yourself a certain way. He liked things to be dainty and soft. He preferred small jewelry over statement pieces. Pastel colors over bright ones. And you should never have on too much makeup. Lipgloss was better than lipstick and concealer over foundation. He wanted you muted but pretty, just like your personality. 

“Thank you,” You batted your lashes. 

Rafe and you continued your cozy evening in the living room. You’d made it through the first two Home Alone movies and were now in the middle of watching The Polar Express. Rafe excused himself to the kitchen for a moment, taking the chance to prepare some hot cocoa for the two of you. 

When Rafe returned to the couch, you were sound asleep, your arms wrapped around Bunny. Quietly, he set down the cups of cocoa on the coffee table, and the thought of waking you up crossed his mind. After all, your drink would get cold, but you seemed like you were resting deeply. 

Gently, Rafe laid down next to you. You didn’t wake; you moaned softly as you turned your head, nuzzling your face into Rafe’s neck. Rafe stayed with you like this, having found a new love in sleeping next to you. He never really enjoyed next to sleeping next to anyone, until you, and he began to designate certain nights of the week where you’d stay with him in his bed. 

Watching you sleep made him think back to when he first brought you home. You still looked as innocent as ever, but there was something else Rafe liked about watching you sleep – he loved seeing you vulnerable. Obviously, you were in a constant state of being vulnerable to Rafe’s every whim and want, but this was different. 

He tested just how deeply you were sleeping, slowly taking the doll from your grasp When you stirred only slightly, Rafe continued, first touching you above your pajamas. Large, ringed fingers felt over your chest. He massaged them, kneading them, and you reacted by pressing yourself closer to him. 

Lips parted, and holding in heavy breathing, Rafe continued his exploration. He was growing harder in his briefs, imagining the look on your face when you fully opened your eyes. He licked one of his fingers and reached into your pajama bottoms and then into your panties. This was exactly why he never wanted you to wear panties to bed; they only got in his way. 

He stroked fingers up and down, feeling between your folds. Feeling the moisture there, he wondered what exactly you’d been dreaming about, “Rafe,” He heard you whisper, although when he looked down at you, your eyes were still closed. Although the stimulation was waking you, Rafe knew you were too tired to fully realize what he was doing. 

Rafe shushed you, still playing between your legs, “Is bed … time?” You mumbled as Rafe pulled his hands from your underwear, bringing his fingers to his lips. 

“Yes, sweet girl,” Rafe whispered, “Keep relaxing, Daddy’s got you.”

Rafe pulled his body from yours, moving off the couch before he gently started to pull down your reindeer bottoms.  Carefully, he removed them from around your ankles before slowly lowering himself down on top of you, “Cold … please,” You mumbled, “Daddyyy.”

“I’ve got you,” Rafe said in response to your whining; as he settled on top of you, you wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him in like your dolly or a pillow. Meanwhile, Rafe was trying as carefully as he could to free himself from his briefs. He didn’t have to touch himself at all, he was already aching for you.

He didn’t resist anymore, pushing your underwear to the side and then pushing inside of you, his sweet girl. You were tighter, somehow, causing Rafe’s eyes to roll in pleasure, “Rafe,” He heard you, knowing you in a daze. Currently, he felt quite dazed himself. He knew with his size that he’d wake you but he didn’t account for the fact that your body might try to resist, to push him out. It just motivated him to push deeper, “Rafe. Rafe.”

Your voice was sharper now, scared almost, “You’re okay,” He cooed, “You’re …so so good, sweet girl.”

You loosened your grasp on him, and Rafe took the opportunity to see your face. You were adorable in those red bows, he noticed them first, but then he saw your scrunched-up features, a cute wince on your face. It would feel good soon, he knew that, but he certainly enjoyed seeing you resist. 

“What a fussy little girl, huh?” Rafe thrusted slowly, “Acting like you don’t like Daddy’s cock.”

With each thrust, you were trying to gain your composure, but Rafe was relentless. 

One hand, beside your head, he pressed into the couch to hold himself up, and the other, he reached down to play with your clit, “Cum one time for me,” Rafe commanded, although it was the last thing you wanted. He would give it to you anyway, wanting to see it in your face when your own body betrayed you, “One time, and you can go back to sleep.”

Rafe’s thrust was slow but consistently deep. He switched back and forth from focusing on your pleasure and his. It was difficult for him, he could finish so easily with you, but he held out; Rafe knew when you were getting closer just by the look on your face. Your head tilted back as your orgasm spread through you, and Rafe was quickly behind you. 

Rafe caught his breath, still inside of you, and moved his chest closer to yours, “You okay? You did good, Bambi.”

You nodded calmly, “Did I …Did I miss the whole movie?”

Rafe stared, bewildered for a moment, “Uh … no. We can just rewind it, baby,” He grinned, pecking your lips, “And I can just heat up the hot chocolate again.” 

Your eyes widened, “Hot chocolate like in the movie?”

��Just like the movie, my love,” Rafe’s forehead pressed to yours.

He was grateful for the fact that he could give you the perfect first Christmas tomorrow. He was even more grateful for how perfect you were.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!

[thebluediner]

MY LITTLE HARD TO GET BABY

gold digger! reader x celebrity! billie

you weren't the sweetest and most cheerful person worse when it came to romance. you couldn't figure out a way to be fully comfortable in a relationship even when you thought you liked the person. she could see that but she wanted to stayed through the push and pull just to show you how good her love was.

you met her at a party and la party, filled with influencers, celebrities, podcast bros everything entertainment. you were in the bathroom mirror fixing your makeup when she entered even so you were too immeresed in yourself you didn't even see her until you crossed paths as you left the the room. even then it was brief for you but for billie her eyes followed your every move.

she forgot about the bathroom immediately when she turned around to follow you. with a poor attempt of talking to you you shut her down by telling her what you were but the way she was so unbothered about it you were concerned she might be hard of hearing. billie on the other hand didn't care, your beauty had her wrapped around your finger the moment her eyes were blessed by your beautiful self.

it started small. billie would take you out to dinner in the most expensive luxurious restaurants with a city view and if it happened she was on tour it was in different countries. she would buy you clothes, shoes , purses , jewellery whatever you needed to show up on the dates without you asking to her your smile was all she could ever ask for.

you would talk on these dates about the smallest random things while she sat across you her smile big her eyes sparkling whenever she looked at you. even on some days you could see she was tired but still insisted on the elaborate dates. she payed attention to things most people would miss about you. her hands would hover over your skin never fully touching unless you were fully comfortable.

billie's family started noticing how much money she was spending and when they found out the called her for an intervention one that she didn't attend because she had taken you shopping. when confronted about it later on she shrugged and said she enjoyed seeing you happy.

she bought you things that weren't just big and flashy but useful because she thought you'd need it. she'd hand over her card to you to use whenever she wasn't around and you needed something. she took you to grand events just to be with you.

it wasn't your plan to fall for her but it was inevitable she was the sweetest. one night you kissed her after a date when she dropped you home and froze completely dumb founded only to pull you in closer by your waist to kiss you again. this time she was fully tasting you and being in the present just to feel you.

from that day on you refused for her to spend money on you but that only made her go big especially when she bought you a diamond necklace just because. she claimed her love for you was going to be mystical and magical this was just the beginning all because you deserve it all.

a/n: small I know but I wanted to write something about this song. Also I'm not back just lurking

[writing-fanics]

Our Little Duckling

Lucifer Morningstar x F!Reader

[summary: unable to sleep Damien made his way to his father’s study and is treated to a story]

warning: fluff

a/n: you’re Charlie stepmom in this basically

Damien carefully opened, up the door to Lucifer’s study. His stuffed duck plushy dragging along behind him, rubbing his eyes tiredly. As he walked towards his father who sat at his desk his back turned.

Lucifer looked down at the child and smiled, reaching down to pick him up placing him on his lap. “I had a nightmare. I-It was really scary.” said Damien, hugging the stuffed animal close to his chest as he sat on his father’s lap.

Lucifer held the small child in his arms,“Your mother and I, will always be here to protect you.” said Lucifer, looking down at his child warmly. Damien looked up at him, “Always?” He asked, and the king of hell nodded and smiled, wrapping his arms around his son.

“Always.” He said, nuzzling his head against his gently. Lucifer then looked towards his desk, and with a wave of his hand. A gold wave like magic, emerging from the yellow diamond shaped object on his desk.

Damien’s eyes widened with joy, his mouth dropping open as he leaned into his father’s shoulder. His eye lit up with joy and wonder, seeing it take a shape of that of a duck with six wings. Sharing the dreams he had for heaven telling him stories of him and his wife, and that of his older sister Charlie.

Damien looked up at his dad in awe, smiling as he nuzzled his head into the crook of his neck. Lucifer smiling and hugging his child closely. Pulling back he bopped him on the nose causing the child to giggle. “Quack!” Damien exclaimed, and Lucifer looked at him. “Quack!” He mocked, and the two went back and forth making duck noises.

Damien’s eyes grew heavy and fell asleep, his head against his father’s chest. He looked down at him and scooped him up into his arms, his hand on his son’s back as he slept rubbing it gently as he stood up and summoned a portal.

Stepping into the portal, he walked towards the bed. Leaning down and carefully placing his son the bed. He smiled, as his eyes caught a glimpse of Charlie holding a baby Damien on the wall. Remembering how ecstatic, Charlie was when she found out that she was going to the a big sister.

How she burst into tears the moment she held, her baby brother for the first time. Crying even more when he revealed the middle name, Damien Charles Morningstar.

Damien curled up in his sleep, his tiny hands gripping the stuffed duck plush. with a smile on his face Lucifer, “Sweet dreams, my little duckling.” Lucifer whispered, as he leaned down tucking his son into bed, kissing the side of his forehead while brushing his [h/c] out of his face. He slowly backed away, and stepped through the portal.

Sitting back at his desk a figure walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around him and planting a kiss on his cheek. “You my love are an amazing father,” She said, planting another kiss on his cheek. She lifted her head, smiling at the framed photo of her,Damien, and Lucifer. Damien in particular wearing a duck onesie, a goofy smile on his face.

“Our little duckling,” She said, looking at the photo longingly smiling.

[dilfstarr]

Toji x black fem reader

A/n: heyyyy ms. parker! 18+

“G’mornin’ Toji!”

He frowned at the greeting before realizing who it was— Ms. Parker. His frown flipped upside down with a quickness before waving in your direction.

“Mornin’ Ms. Parker!”

They yelled their conversation over the street that separated them before you decided to walk over to his house.

“Please don’t tell me those are the roses I gifted you, dying on your steps Toji.”

Looking down at the poor excuse for a flower, he pushes out a chuckle— rubbing the back of his neck.

“M’sorry Ms.Parker, I just don’t have the magic touch like you.” He eyed your figure, subconsciously biting his lip as he spoke to you. “Where is Mr. Parker, Ms. Parker?”

You roll the diamond wedding band across your finger before answering. “He’s gone to work. He left bout… thirty minutes ago.” You swayed gently as he hummed and nodded at your words.

“I bought some new flowers, wanted to see if you wanted any. They’re in my garage.”

“Lead the way, Ms Parker..”

“Ooooshiitt! S’big!”

Your ass clapped loudly against Toji’s thick thighs. He laid flat against the cold concrete floor of your garage— he didn’t care, especially when your gripping him like you never wanted him to leave.

“Ease up baby. M’gonna’ nut if you keep squeezin. S-shit!”

He held your naked body tightly against his— bear hugging you with your arms pinned securely behind your back. The sticky sound of plap plap plap echoed through the empty room. You were so fucked out that you physically couldn’t make a noise. Your mouth dangled open— trembling ragged breathing escaping. Toji smiled from under you as your eyes gradually started moving to look at each other. Yea, you were gone.

“He don’t fuck like this, huh?

You couldn’t get to answer his question before your orgasm hit you like a bullet train. Your moaning were so high pitched that it could break glass.

“Fuckmefuckmeyesyesyes!”

He couldn’t fulfill you demanding chants as he swiftly pulled out. His hand jerked quickly along his cream colored dick.

“Shit! Uhgn-Fuck!”

His dick twitched as it was cumming but nothing came out. A dribble of cum slid down his length before ropes of his release shot in the air like a rocket. His mouth hung open as his hot cum blast into the hot air and drizzled over your back and ass like forbidden rain. You licked along his sweaty neck up to his ear biting it gently as he rode out his nut. He continued to jerk out the remaining seed— his body twitching from the overstimulation.

“Put it back in Toji.” You purr against his lobe.

He lifted your hips and slid you down his cock. It slipped in with ease from the natural lubricant. You both gasp simultaneously at the sensation— both holding the same facial expression.

“I want one more before he comes home. Don’t disappoint me Toji.”

[calypso-rt]

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ farmer's market ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

fluff

jus a little drabble...

The sun was warm and golden, casting a glow over the bustling rows of stalls at the farmer’s market. You were practically skipping beside Rafe, his hand snug in yours, as you took in the colors and smells: fresh flowers, baby goats, and of course, produce as far as the eye could see.

“Alright, alright,” Rafe said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched your wide-eyed excitement. “I get it now. This is what all the hints were about.”

You glanced up at him innocently, though the grin tugging at your lips gave you away. “What hints?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawled, squeezing your hand lightly as he dodged a stroller rolling past. “Maybe the fact that you left a farmer’s market flyer on the fridge…for two weeks straight.”

“I thought it looked nice there.”

“And the time you said, ‘I don’t know why some people don’t appreciate strawberries more,’ while staring directly at me over breakfast?”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. “Maybe I was just making conversation.”

“And let’s not forget,” he continued, his tone mock serious now, “when you literally changed my phone wallpaper to that picture of strawberries you found on Pinterest.”

You finally burst into laughter, leaning into him as you tried to defend yourself. “Okay, maybe I was subtly suggesting that we come here. But you have to admit it’s amazing!”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his grin as he glanced down at you. “You’re lucky you’re cute, y/n. Otherwise, I might’ve been annoyed.”

You stopped in front of a stall overflowing with strawberries so red and glossy they looked like they belonged in a painting. Your hand slipped from Rafe’s as you stepped closer, practically glowing with excitement.

“Oh my god, Rafe,” you said, your voice practically reverent. “Look at these strawberries.”

Rafe came up beside you, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts as he tilted his head to look at them. “They’re strawberries,” he said, deadpan. “They look the same as the ones in the store.”

You turned to him with a look of pure betrayal. “Take that back.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “No.”

You picked up a basket and held it out to him dramatically. “If you don’t buy these for me right now, I will-”

“Will what?” he challenged, leaning a little closer with that smug smile of his.

“Cry,” you said, completely straight-faced.

Rafe barked out a laugh, already pulling out his wallet. “Alright, alright. You win. I’ll buy you the world’s most magical strawberries.”

As he handed the vendor a bill, he turned back to you with a playful smirk. “You’d think I just bought you a diamond ring or something.”

“These are better,” you teased, biting into one immediately. When the juice dripped onto your fingers, Rafe caught your wrist, gently swiping his thumb across the sticky mess.

“See? And you said they weren’t special,” you murmured, grinning as he brought his thumb to his mouth with an exaggerated, thoughtful look.

“Yeah, okay,” he admitted, his voice softer now as he looked at you. “Maybe they’re a little special. But only because you’re enjoying them so much.”

You smiled up at him, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Told you.”

As you walked through the rest of the market, Rafe carried the basket of strawberries like it was priceless treasure.

You were too busy admiring the stalls to notice, your denim overalls swaying slightly as you walked, the pockets stuffed with random finds: a flower Rafe had picked for you earlier, a business card from a honey stand, and a handful of free samples. Your white Converse were already a bit dusty from the uneven ground, but you didn’t care.

Rafe’s gaze lingered on you, softening as he caught you twirling a little when the breeze picked up. “You know,” he said, his voice just loud enough to catch your attention, “you might be the cutest thing here, and we’re surrounded by baby goats.”

You turned to him, hands on your hips, a teasing glint in your eyes. “You think I’m cuter than baby goats?”

“Obviously,” he said, stepping closer and slipping an arm around your waist. He leaned down, brushing his lips against your forehead. “Though you’re definitely more high-maintenance.”

You laughed, swatting at his chest. “Says the guy who ate three of my strawberries while I wasn’t looking.”

Rafe grinned, completely unrepentant. “They’re a tax. Boyfriend privileges. You should’ve read the fine print.”

“Fine print? You mean that time you scribbled ‘property of Rafe Cameron’ in my notebook?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He tilted his head, feigning thought. “I was being romantic.”

“You were being ridiculous,” you said, though your laughter betrayed you.

Rafe shrugged with a grin, brushing a kiss to your cheek as he teased, “Ridiculous, romantic...same difference, babe.”

a/n: inspired by my obsession w/ farmers markets

[heavenlytouches]

Can I request Edward's mate adopting a little baby boy? She knew the mother who passed in childbirth and didn't have any family. I could see the ladies of the Cullen clan just jumping into Grammy/auntie mode. 😍😭 Please and thank you!!!

Hello dear! Thank you so so much for a request! Also I apologise for not being active, college will kill me sooner or later TwT but let's get writing ^^

El <3

Edward Cullen- baby fever

⋆.ೃo0

FEM reader

<3 (SFW)

TW- none

Edward's mate adopts a baby

MOTHER! reader

Edward Cullen

You had always thought that love took on many forms, but nothing prepared you for the tidal wave of emotion when you cradled the tiny bundle in your arms.

The sweet little boy, barely a year old, was soft and warm, his small fingers curling around yours. The moment you spotted him at the adoption agency, tears of joy had filled your eyes. Perhaps it was fate that had led you to this child- one born of heartbreak, yet bestowed upon you as a radiant possibility for love.

When you informed Edward of your decision to adopt, his golden eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight.

Edward Cullen, the gentle vampire, had always shared his heart with you, and in that warm kitchen under the soft glow of the pendant light, he enveloped you in his embrace.

“You’re going to be the best momma.”

He whispered, his voice a melodious sound that wrapped around you like a soft blanket. How could you not fall deeper in love with him in that moment?

As you settled into the rhythm of motherhood, it became evident that you weren’t the only one enchanted by the baby’s presence. Alice, Rosalie, and Esme, the beautiful members of the Cullen clan, transformed into the most loving aunties one could possibly imagine. It was a surreal sight, witnessing the three graceful vampires practically bounce with delight as they shared their excitement over the newest addition to the family.

“Can we pick a name? I want to help!”

Alice chirped one afternoon, her eyes sparkling like sunlit diamonds. Her childish enthusiasm added a sprinkle of magic to the cushiony living room filled with laughter and warmth.

You smiled at her.

“I was thinking about calling him Jacob. It was his mother’s father’s name.”

You could see a fleeting shadow cross Edward’s face, but as ever, he quickly masked it with a tender smile.

Alice squealed.

“I love it! Jacob, little Jake! So cute!”

She began bouncing around the room, her excitement infectious, and before you knew it, she was pulling you along to the grand piano in the corner, attempting to come up with a sweet melody to welcome the baby officially.

Rosalie had an uncanny ability to go all-in on anything related to kids, despite her elegance. She grinned ear to ear as she conjured up images of little Jake and her in a garden of flowers, where she would play princess with him.

“Oh, I can’t wait to make you a little prince for all those tea parties, Jake! You will love pink lemonade!”

Rosalie declared, her soft laughter echoing off the walls.

Esme, the nurturing matriarch, offered you a warm cup of tea while knitting a tiny blue sweater for Jacob.

“You know, dear,”

She said, her voice soft and kind,

“being a mom is about finding the beauty in every little moment. Cherish every giggle, every tear. You’ll be incredible- just like Edward.”

You turned to Edward, who was sitting on the couch, watching the lively scene unfold around you with that tender smile you adored. He was so sweet, so patient, sometimes you almost forgot he could do more than love; he could express his love in countless ways.

The way he looked at you, love shining in his eyes, reassured you that Jacob would grow up in the warmest environment, surrounded by family.

That evening, with twilight wrapping the Forks sky in hues of blue and gray, you found yourself nestling on the couch, Jacob asleep on your lap, tiny breaths making you feel inexplicably whole. Edward perched beside you, radiating calm in the way only he could.

“Can you believe how much they all love him already?”

You whispered, running your fingers along Jacob’s soft hair.

Edward chuckled softly, his tone filled with a sweetness that made your heart swell.

“It’s hard not to love him. He’s part of us now. A little bundle of joy- and he brings out the best in everyone. Even Rosalie and Alice.”

You both shared a laugh, each recalling the beautiful chaos earlier, with Alice orchestrating a mini tea party while Rosalie insisted that they had to have princess crowns fairy lights and all.

“Let’s not forget Esme trying to convince me about baby food recipes,”

You countered, grinning at the memory.

Edward leaned closer, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“It was charming watching them all jump into granny and auntie mode. It’s like they’ve been waiting to spoil him their whole lives.”

You sighed contentedly, comfortably wrapped in the warmth of family, in Edward’s affection, and in the profound joy that Jacob had brought into your lives.

As the moonlight spilled into the room, creating a gossamer glow, Edward turned to you, his expression earnest.

“You know, there’s something magical about this. Bringing Jacob into our lives, it’s not just parenting; it’s creating a story together. A beautiful tapestry interwoven with love.”

You looked deeply into his golden eyes, feeling every pulse of love between you two.

“And I couldn’t imagine sharing this journey with anyone but you,”

You replied, your heart swelling with emotion.

Just then, Jacob stirred in his sleep, lifting one tiny hand toward Edward, who instinctively caught it in his fingers. The irony was not lost on you; a vampire, capable of extraordinary things, captivated by the simplest yet most profound gestures.

In that moment, you knew- love had taken root in the most unexpected places, and together, your little family was bound to grow, not just in number but in an unbreakable bond. No matter the challenges, you would face them together, and every heartbeat, every giggle from your son would echo through the years as a reminder of the purest form of love you had created.

As the night stretched on, you felt something extraordinary- love brimming in your heart, like soft laughter floating through the twilight air, uniting Edward, Jacob, and you in a world that felt just right.

I'm so so sorry but I had to name him Jacob xD

Don’t forget, requests are always open and I can write for any character you’d like!

I love you guys so much <33

El <3

(all images were made by: El via canva & paint)

[theshinazugawaslut]

𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑻𝑶𝑩𝑬𝑹 𝑫𝑨𝒀 #𝟐 — 💀🎃 "𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 & 𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉" 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒌𝒊 𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 / 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒙

tw/cw: dubious consent, mentions of attempting suicide

Don't go, don't go, don't go, don't go.

It's the first thing you had learned as a young bumbling girl, back when you'd clutch onto your mother's cold hand tightly and ask in a high, squealing voice about the woods you had found out were strictly forbidden.

"Don't go in there," your mother had said in a hushed tone, "there are awful people in there; ones who will offer you ruby-red apples with the magick of eternity's youth, but you mustn't ever take them, my baby, and if you even manage to get away from the faeries and witches and wolves, then you will reach the ocean infested with all sorts of monsters. You don't wish to be eaten by a half-bird half-fish now, would you?"

So you'd always been wary of the forest, as a little girl to a lady, living a respectful life at the village.

You spent days embroidering satin gowns with arcipluvian birds and cutting sweetheart necklines with a healer's steady hand and stitching diamond-encrusted bodices into tulle skirts; all the uninteresting things that come with being a dressmaker's daughter.

Though tonight, you'd long abandoned the box of jewels and the slim needle that had become a tender muscle in your mind, left them by the melting candle on your bedside.

Your shoulders donned a blood-red cloak made of velvet, your gown glittering under the night sky; you'd stitched it yourself from the spare fabric of a rich woman who often visited your family's little shop in the village. It was a lovely thing and it was your most prized possession: the bodice was nice and fitted, ivory in colour with rose and aureate embellishments, low and tight so that the clear spheres of your breast were nipped with cold; you'd made your skirts wonderfully layered also — a swelling blood red silk underskirt covered with a sheer, glittering gold fabric, with two overskirts in damask patterns, sable and cream and sun-spun.

When you had sewn it, you'd left it hanging in your sparse wardrobe in hopes to wear it on your wedding day.

Now, all that was left was to wear it tonight and walk straight into death; the tangerine glow of the lantern held up in your dainty fingers, lighting the path to the angel of death.

You had never thought your mother would arrange your marriage to the worst man in the village. Your beauty was sought by every boy and man of the village, and you'd hoped your mother would match you to the sweet butcher's boy across the street.

Keigo, his name is; a boy with hair spun off golden sunflowers and eyes that glitter like topaz under moonshine, sharp as a hawk. He gave you candied cherries once, the tart fruit dipped in hardened sugar water, and he'd smiled so shyly after.

Instead, your mother betrothed you to Touya, the eldest son of the village chief. You had wanted to cry as the man's intense, electric-blue eyes blazed flames into your skin as your mother and his father discussed the engagement.

Everyone knew of Touya, the enigmatic eldest son covered in gnarly, mulberry scars and strange silver rings and snow-white hair, rumours circled like wisps of smoke that he had been set alight with fire by a witch as a young boy. Worse, rumours said that the young man dabbled in dark magic.

You wouldn't marry a man like that, which is why you'll die.

In the forest.

(Don't go.)

Your lantern only illuminates the trees in front of you, just a few steps away into certain death. Webs shimmer like meshed steel in front of you as you take a ginger step inside, the slow crunch of a leaf below your boots is the only indicator something exists inside.

Almost immediately inside the forest, something shifts.

You can't tell what it is but it's there.

Red.

Your eyes become deer-like, large and frightened, and you turn around, wanting to head back but you find that the path back... isn't there, just endless forbidden forest.

That can't be.

Something gets stuck in your throat from panic, like a globe of cloth that makes your throat dry.

You keep walking, your legs a lot heavier now, something akin to logs.

The world around you seems to shift, a sepulchre silence heavier than the cloak on your shoulders. The trees held the macabre stench of blood, speckles of fungied moss glistening like wet witch dust on its mottled bark; the branches twist toward the sky like dark, skeletal fingers, reaching for the stars that winked down from a velvet expanse.

The moon is hideous tonight.

A whispering breath, no, a breeze, shifts through the lines of the forest and your body. It sounds old, perhaps a little sad. It beckons you.

In the back of your head, you can hear the sound of children singing.

Ring-a, ring-a rosies-

There's a beat of a drum, somewhere deep in the darkness where your lantern's weak light can't reach. A drum, a drum- A beating heart.

a pocket full of-

Enchantment twists and coils around you like a serpent, why are your eyes so-?

posies!

The phantasmal gas becomes the damp breath of the forest.

Shadows dance at the corners of your vision.

Your senses begin to reel, ethereal and monstrous and real suddenly not all the same.

A tissue! A tissue!

Flickering shapes form and die behind the trees; those shapes try to reach hands towards you, scintillating and fading.

The sound of a child wailing echoes throughout the forest, haunting the glades, and pouring into some desolate space elsewhere.

When did you start crying? Why are you running?

Someone is trying to hush you, the sound a hollow echoing, more like the ballad of a crumbling cathedral, like fingers of shadow snuffing out the lights.

Why did you go?

Don't go.

We all-

Arthritic brambles catch on your dress for a moment, gnarled with age, snapping like bones as your boots slap through the sounds of the night.

Something spidery slips into your mind, nails sinking deep into the goo of your brain. The distorted image of your parents flashes before your eyes, the grotesque form of the sun-haired boy, the sweetness of electric-blue eyes.

Time loses meaning; minutes stretch into hours as you drift between consciousness and the realm of the lost. In this state, the boundaries of your existence waver like the edges of a dream, fraying like the gossamer threads in your gown.

Fall-

The night sky above transforms into a kaleidescope, the stars becoming blurs of light, something sinister flashing in front of your pupils instead.

In that one moment, you live hundreds of lifetimes, the beat of the drum getting louder, the singing even more so. You see it all: flowery childhoods and fantasies of a lover and children with his blue eyes and your tears at his funeral-

Down!

All you can do is shriek as you fall, dress dirtying.

It's silent again.

You look up and you freeze.

A deep pool of glittering, gemstone-blue expanding here, a stream behind it, most likely leading to the seas. It's stunning; glimmering like star gleam, burbling and thrumming like a child blowing bubbles into a cup. It lights up the rest of the forest around you, ripples reflecting across tree bark.

You reach out a hand just to touch, fingertips trembling just about to touch the surface.

A hand encloses around your wrist.

You don't have it in you to shriek a second time as blood-curdling eyes meet yours.

His eyes are red. Vivid, vibrant, violent.

He's simmering with cruel intent, volcanic and about erupt, but he's strangely calm, something hypnotic in his gaze and bluish hair falling in front of his ashy face.

The hand around your wrist is gentle. Thick, long fingers, and a broad, heavy palm; made to destroy, you don't doubt his touch is decaying.

He's half-submerged in water, the upper half of his body all sinewy muscle and the lower half... beneath the blue water, you think you see black swishing around; pulsating like a jellyfish.

"...A human," he murmurs with a heavy tongue, and you can see the gills flare . "So pretty."

Then everything about him changes, that eerie calmness you had caught before disappears as he smiles at the way your mind screams, your eyes bloodshot and terrified.

There;s something rotten in the way he quirks his lips up.

His teeth have the same glint as blood-drenched bones, like flesh ripped out of a body, like hot red swallowing you whole.

"Why are you here, little girl?" he asks, hissing through calcite.

The hand around your delicate wrist tightens.

Run.

Don't.

"I- I- I-" you stammer uselessly. "I- No, I-"

"Shh, 's okay." His other clawed hand comes to touch the plump of your cheek, talons gently tracing soothing patterns. "You don't have to... say a word."

His voice is sultry, soft... It's almost mesmerising.

The fingers on your wrist dance to the back of your hand as he traces the veins there, as if he wants to rip them out and sew himself a tail from them.

He entwines your hands together tenderly.

"Such hardworking hands," he coos, eyes taking in the sight of all the pricks from needling away at dresses. "You need to unwind." His eyes flicker to yours and he gives a half-smile half-smirk, almost genuine. "I can help with that."

His grin is lopsided, those red eyes glimmer, the incandescence of them illusory. "You want to...?"

Your vision becomes hazy, blurring like it did earlier, only this time it's much more relaxing. Like sleep spindles wrapping around your sore joints.

"You missed me, right? You came here all the way to see me, 'm honoured," he murmurs, mouth against your knuckles before pulling back just a little. Another flow. "You came here to see me, right?"

You can't remember now.

Why... did you...?

Why do you feel so disoriented?

"You're the sweetest, you know." The large, gentle hand on your cheek moves to the back of your head, sinking into your hair and bringing you closer to his mouth. You try and shake your head to fight away the warm haze. It's useless. "I've been feeling hungr- Lonely, for so long."

Both his hands cup your jaw now, thumbs caressing the lines he can find on you.

"You're lonely too, right...?" he murmurs and you find yourself nodding along, the gills on his neck flare. "It'd be nice if... you'd join me, here, in the waters." His voice is a whisper now, his mouth inching closer. "I bet you'd like it. My voice is prettier below as well, do you want to hear?"

You blink, frazzled.

The fingers on your face dig in a little harder.

"It'd be nice, you know, listening to beautiful songs with me," he says, "I just adore singing, especially at deaths, it's why everyone calls me Shigaraki. I bet you have a beautiful name, too."

But you don't say it, all you can hear is his name on repeat, like sea froth and foam on the red tip of your tongue.

"Beautiful girls like you deserve pleasure, you know...?" he whispers. "Do you want to...?"

You don't know why you nod.

But he kisses you. It's cold and his teeth gnash against yours, something in it is desperate as his claws make quick work of ruining your beloved dress.

Whatever he does, it keep the oxygen in your lung as he hauls you into the glowing pool that has become duller below it.

He's gorgeous in the water, in all his tentacled glory, and his eyes are burning red to keep the magick of remaining docile on you.

His lower half is the most bizarre thing you'd ever seen: blacker than squid ink at midnight, obsidian veins creeping up on abdomen and then his lower half splitting into eight meaty tentacles.

He grabs you by the throat this time, kissing you with his forked tongue, fangs nipping into the fat of your gasping bottom lip, the other hand holding your head.

You're entirely nude; soft legs floating in the water, virgin cunt exposed, the plump of your ass glimmering. He pulls back, grinning like a warping shadow as his hands touch your swollen breasts.

It all happens at once.

A slimy tentacle wraps around your leg, the other twinning the action, suckling onto your shins and knees and thighs, and he spreads you apart like a starfish, uncaring for how your hips almost shatter from the pressure.

Another tentacles winds itself like a gutless animal around your stomach and squeezes tight enough that all you'd eaten comes gurgling out in a cloud of yellow. The tentacle is large enough to sheathe around your tits, the suckers across the tentacles are like reverberating mouths on your nipples. Within seconds, your nipples are raw and bitten, expanding to twice their size obsenely.

Shigaraki grins as you let out a strangled moan before he shoves a bulky tentacle in your mouth causing your eyes to almost pop out your skull as it goes down into your thoat so that it almost explodes from expanding to fit the thing.

It's gorgeous how sweetly you let him thrust the throbbing tentacle in and out, even sweeter how you scream around it as he doubles down on your sugary pussy and ass.

It hurts so much you can't even feel it inside your stomach, the tentacle on your breasts moving up to squeeze at your throat.

Your stomach convulses from the gruesome size of him, hammering into your womb like a savage barbarian in a brothel. You catch sight of the merman through your tears; his eyes have rolled to the back of his head, mouth hanging open in a vulgar moan, and he was right, he does sound prettier under water.

Your blood is clear in the water as he fucks you, tentacles and sucker clamping and sucking and thrusting on the inside and out.

You're going to die like this, with this monster making you the prettiest human cumdump-

The flames of dark magic suddenly bleed into the waters, severing the tentacles of your captor, the spell breaking and you screech, watching as the monster flails about, blood gushing and staining the pool red as the cut tentacles float.

All you feel is unfamiliar hands holding onto you and swimming out of the waters.

The last thing you remember seeing is electric-blue eyes.

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Santa Baby

pairing: Tyler owen’s x f! popstar girlfriend

The stage was bathed in warm, festive light as snowflakes made of glitter descended from the rafters. The audience buzzed with excitement, eagerly awaiting the star of the night. Y/N’s highly anticipated Christmas special was live, showcasing her new holiday album. Fans worldwide tuned in to witness her performance, and among them was her proudest supporter her boyfriend turned fiancé, Tyler Owens, seated in the front row.

Y/N’s voice soared through classic carols and original songs, each note wrapping the room in holiday magic. Dressed in a red velvet gown that shimmered under the lights, she was the picture of festive elegance. Her diamond necklace sparkled with every turn, but her smile was the true showstopper. Tyler leaned forward in his seat, utterly entranced, his blue eyes never leaving her.

Then came the moment that would be talked about for weeks. The band struck up the jazzy, slinky notes of Santa Baby, and the audience erupted into cheers. The curtains parted to reveal Y/N in a dazzling new outfit: a fitted red velvet bodice trimmed with soft white fur, paired with thigh-high boots and a sparkling Santa hat. She strutted across the stage, microphone in hand, her playful grin promising something extraordinary.

Tyler chuckled as she made eye contact with him, her flirty energy aimed directly his way. He shook his head, already knowing she was about to steal the show.

Her sultry voice filled the air:

Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me…

The crowd swayed along, their energy building with every lyric. Y/N’s performance was captivating, her charm impossible to resist. Tyler’s grin grew wider as she playfully gestured toward him during the bridge:

Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.

The audience roared with laughter and applause at her antics. Tyler, his face beaming with pride, clapped along, his eyes shining with admiration. But then, the atmosphere shifted as she reached the iconic line:

Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing a ring…

Y/N paused dramatically, her voice trailing off as she raised her left hand. The spotlight caught it, making the enormous diamond engagement ring glitter like the North Star. Gasps and cheers erupted from the crowd, and Tyler froze, caught completely off guard. For a moment, he looked stunned, but then his face broke into the most radiant smile, his eyes glassy with emotion.

The cameras panned to him, capturing his reaction as he stood, clapping and laughing, his expression one of pure love and pride. Y/N flashed him a cheeky grin, finishing the line with a twist:

…and I don’t mean on the phone!

The theater exploded with applause. Y/N gave a playful twirl, blowing Tyler a kiss and mouthing, I love you. He returned it with a blown kiss of his own, shaking his head as if to say, You’re unbelievable.

By the time Y/N finished her set, the news had already gone viral. Social media lit up with clips of the performance, fans gushing over her flawless vocals and Tyler’s swooning reaction. Headlines blared:

“Pop Star Y/N Drops Engagement Bombshell During Christmas Special!”

“Tyler Owens and Y/N Are Officially Engaged And It’s the Holiday Surprise We Didn’t Know We Needed!”

The next morning, Tyler sat on the couch, scrolling through endless memes of his smitten expression. Y/N curled up beside him under a cozy blanket, her engagement ring catching the morning light.

“You really couldn’t wait to tell the world, huh?” he teased, showing her a tweet comparing him to a love-struck Hallmark movie character.

“What can I say?” she replied with a smirk. “I like making a statement.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Good. I want everyone to know I’m the luckiest man alive.”

Her smile softened as she laced her fingers with his. “Merry Christmas, Tyler.”

“Merry Christmas, future Mrs. Owens.”

That evening, as the snow continued to drift softly outside, they decided to celebrate their engagement with a romantic soak in the outdoor hot tub. The steam swirled into the crisp winter air, and the glow of the nearby fire pit illuminated the space, casting flickering shadows over the snow-covered patio.

Y/N stepped out onto the deck, wrapped in a plush robe, her cheeks rosy from the cold. Tyler was already in the tub, leaning back against the edge with his arms sprawled out, the muscles of his chest glistening from the rising steam. His blue eyes fixed on her with a heat that rivaled the bubbling water.

“Come on in, future Mrs. Owens,” he teased, his voice low and inviting.

Y/N smirked, dropping the robe to reveal her figure in a deep red bikini that matched the festive mood of the weekend. Tyler’s breath hitched, his gaze dragging over her like she was the only thing in the world.

“You’re staring,” she said playfully as she descended into the water, the warmth enveloping her instantly.

“Can you blame me?” he replied, his voice rough as he pulled her closer the moment she settled in. “Look at you. You’re stunning.”

She slid onto his lap, her legs straddling his waist, and wrapped her arms around his neck. The contrast of the hot water and the cool winter air made her shiver slightly, but Tyler’s hands on her hips quickly warmed her up.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Owens,” she murmured, trailing her fingers along his jawline.

Tyler chuckled, but it quickly turned into a groan when her lips brushed against his. The kiss started slow, a gentle exploration, but quickly deepened as the tension between them simmered into something hotter than the water surrounding them. His hands roamed her back, sliding lower as he held her firmly against him.

“You know,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire, “you completely ruined me last night with that performance.”

“Good,” she whispered, biting her lip as she looked at him. “I wanted to drive you crazy.”

“Mission accomplished,” he said, his grip tightening as he kissed her again, his lips moving down to her neck, trailing over her collarbone.

“Tyler,” she breathed, her voice a mix of a plea and a tease.

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his blue eyes blazing. “Say it again,” he murmured.

“Tyler,” she repeated, her hands framing his face as her lips brushed against his in the faintest of kisses.

“No,” he whispered, his smirk returning as his hands dipped into the water, pulling her closer. “The other thing. The thing I’ve been waiting to hear all day.”

She smiled, her heart thundering in her chest. “I love you, Mr. Owen

Tyler’s laughter rumbled through the air before he captured her lips again, the kiss slow, sensual, and filled with the kind of love that made the world stand still. And as snowflakes melted on their heated skin, they knew this was the start of a holiday season they’d never forget.

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to The Light's Chapters 408-409

Brief summary: Cale gets the hidden records. Wind AP and Fire AP destroys Cale's plans. Sun God saintess arrives.

==========

I was wrong. There were 6 🚩flags planted last chapter. 😂

Fight the two wanderers

Fight the GoC cult

Appear in a user’s livestream (and become a great legend)

Use his Shield AP to protect the sacrifices

Faint and have Alberu take command

Meet the GoC pope

The pope mention was in the last chapter, some afterthought of Cale as he was thinking of the ritual. But today, the GoC saint confirmed that the pope would be coming to New World to witness GoC's descent... Yep, that was a flag there. 🤣🤣🤣 Dang it, Cale. 🤣🤣🤣

Cale (or the author) revealed his bias for HD again.

CH: *knocks people out* Cale: *is scared of CH* HD: *knocks people out* Cale: *is in awe of HD*

And what was this? HD smiling and looking proud because of all the people he knocked unconscious while Cale looked up at him in admiration? So sus... but also so cute... 😂🥰

The records of GoC made the Sword of the Sun react strongly, forcefully turning dark elf Alberu into his blonde hair and blue eyes self.

Alberu: *turns blonde* Cale: Oooh, you look like a hero! *gives a thumbs up* 👍 Alberu: *shuts eyes in annoyance at being teased*

Cale was having fun in teasing Hero Alberu. 😂😂😂

Alberu: *doing his best to stop the Sword of the Sun* Alberu: It wants to destroy everything related to GoC. Cale: You can do it! *cheers for Alberu* Alberu: This is driving me crazy.

Cale really having fun. 🤣🤣🤣

The hidden area had five records of GoC's power, namely, Fear, Purification, Pleasure, Contamination, and an unknown power. Cale took all of the records, and the Sword of the Sun eventually quieted down.

As for the divine item, Cale's treasure radar, aka Sound of the Wind, easily found it. Problem was, the divine item was right smack in the middle of the place where the ritual would be held. So if Cale wanted to steal it, he had to interfere with the ritual itself... Ah, the flags he planted are taking effect. 😂😂😂

It didn't help that the altar above the divine item was full of expensive magic stones and diamonds, making Fire AP drool in excitement. 🤣🤣🤣

Cale: Let's just steal everything and escape! HD: *smiles in excitement* Alberu: ...I knew it would end up like this.

The other participants of the stage had arrived. The twin wanderers were destroying the walls surrounding the Primordial Night. Above, the Sun God saintess and paladin had arrived too while the users had begun their streaming.

Crazy Attention Seeker was shocked to see the Sun God church NPCs. But he and his companion were even more shocked when they saw... Raon.

Raon was originally invisible, but he had to appear when the saintess and paladin arrived. After all, he couldn't leave it to the bad actor, CH. 😂😂😂 The paladin, Sir Boltien, recognized CH, and when he asked CH why he was stopping them, Raon had to step up and tell them that his human didn't want variables or passersby to be harmed.

Dragons were rare in the game world, so it was understandable why the users were dumbfounded. But Crazy Attention Seeker went crazy, dying from how cute the "baby dragon" was to how cute it spoke. 🤣🤣🤣 We readers understand you... Raon is indeed cute! 🥰

Ending Remarks With all the flags planted, Cale's plan of "watching his enemies fight while silently stealing stuff" went out the window. Next chapter would finally be the beginning of the ritual. A new legend of Cale begins again! 😂

[marzipanandminutiae]

i adore sumptuous antique dolls and their trousseaus. please do talk of anything you know of them.

They're pretty and important and I felt deeply ripped off by Y2K-era doll culture when I read the description of The Last Doll in A Little Princess as a child:

"She sat down on the floor and turned the key. The children crowded clamoring around her, as she lifted tray after tray and revealed their contents. Never had the schoolroom been in such an uproar. There were lace collars and silk stockings and handkerchiefs;there was a jewel case containing a necklace and a tiara which looked quite as if they were made of real diamonds; there was a long sealskin [stole] and muff; there were ball dresses and walking dresses and visiting dresses; there were hats and tea gowns and fans."

The description of Emily, Sara's main doll, also sent me into transports of imagination:

"She certainly had a very intelligent expression in her eyes when Sara took her in her arms. She was a large doll, but not too large to carry about easily; she had naturally curling golden-brown hair, which hung like a mantle about her, and her eyes were a deep gray-blue with soft, thick eyelashes which were real eyelashes and not mere painted lines."

The only thing that came close to the idea of a Doll With Trousseau when I was a child- meaning that you could get all sorts of accessories for your doll beyond just clothing, almost everything a real person had -was the delight of the American Girl catalogue

LOOK AT ALL THE LITTLE THINGS. LOOK AT THEM. The pages for modern dolls had lots of treasures, too, and I pored over those as well- but that was Normal Clothing and therefore boring. not the fantastic, princess-like garments of the historical dolls (because that was the only reference point I had for Little Girls Who Wear Dresses All The Time; as a Millennial child, I grew up in jeans except on fancy occasions)

and they were good-quality, unlike what you get from AG today. but I digress

the problem with American Girl was that they weren't "pretty dolls," by which I meant Lady Dolls. child dolls only sort of interested me, baby dolls not at all. grown-up ladies from the past REALLY looked like princesses (even the poor ones! by which I meant "peasant" outfits worn by various Disney princesses, natch)

Barbie was nearing the end of the era where you could easily buy clothing for her in stores without buying a whole new doll. Bratz were entirely focused on modern fashion with no history or fantasy, and anyway I thought they looked mean. so that was a no-go

And Thus I Pined

I mean they truly had everything for these dolls in the late 19th-early 20th century- the dolls themselves were only half the revenue stream, with clothing making up the other half. or sometimes even more. have you ever wanted scented writing-paper for your dolls? that was a thing in late 1860s Paris. it was wild

go to a doll show sometime if you get the chance. those sales rooms are the closest you'll get to the experience of one of those fine old doll shops nowadays, and they're still pretty magical

This doll has a full six dresses (unfortunately not pictured) and a paragraph of accessories, typed, including a tiny etched glass perfume bottle to hang from her tiny chatelaine. it's so wonderful I'm going to punch a wall. anyway

[spideyanakin]

summary - sirius black x malfoy + slytherin! reader, ever since regulus drowned, you keep dreaming about him, but what if your dreams weren't just dreams? aka: we are saving regulus

warnings - angsty, near death experience but ends well, dumbledore being an icon

part of all I think about now - masterlist

read the part right before

"Let me offer you a cup of tea," Albus broke the silence.

Your breath was still held as you watched the pieces of the shattered locket, mixed with the shards of heavy wood from the desk bellow. With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore restored the desk that had shattered with your blow.

You watched, almost as if you were having an out of body experience as he was poured you the tea, and you sat on the homely couch by the fire place.

You found it impossible to have a sip of the warm liquid inside the flowery porcelain cup. Your hand was shaking.

Maybe what had happened was actually sinking. Your chest felt warm, heart beating loudly and pumping blood in places you did not know you could actually feel.

Would he know? Would the dark lord sense that a Horcrux had been destroyed? Would he know by whose hand the object had been shattered?

And suddenly, a look received from Dumbledore melted all the worries from you.

No. He couldn't know. You couldn't let doubt sink in. Not now, not when you were a step closer to ending this once and for all.

Dumbledore needed you, and if this meant continuing to put yourself in danger, to continue living a double life to save thousands; then you would.

So you breathed, smoothed down the rumbling of your bones, and smiled back at him the best way you could.

Something itched in the back of your throat though, and suddenly you found yourself speaking before you could stop it.

"Albus," You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, placing your steaming cup of tea back on the table in front of you. "Ever since my husband- ever since Regulus passed, I have been having these dreams, but they do not feel like dreams."

He nodded for you to continue.

"I thought it was Kreature's memories, from that night, but the more I think about it, the less it makes sense," you breathed, closing your eyes for a brief second as the memory flashed before you. "It is, as if I am seeing his memories. He is dragged into the depths, there is a flash from his wand, suddenly he is breathing, and then he is back to struggling, but the inferi could not reach him."

"How long have you had those dreams?"

"Since the night he passed."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Every night, he breathes, then suddenly struggles again, stops, he feels cold, but not quite dead, right until he takes a new breath, and every time he does, I wake."

Dumbledore quietly placed his cup back onto its saucer. He itched his thin white beard as he peered at his desk, and then to a painting of a wizard you did not know.

"Sir Watson," he adresses him, and the funny looking, very small wizard with a bright pink hat and matching robe with diamonds sewed to the sleeves looked at Albus.

"Yes?"

"How did your partner survive your last mission with him?"

The wizard jumped from his bright baby blue rococo chair, clapped his hands with a bright smile on his lips. Cheeks filling with his smile.

"I love this story! Brilliant wizard was he!" He nodded eagerly and you raised an eyebrow at his enthusiasm. "The poor lad was stuck, attacked by rogue and vicious mermaids! He used a scutum charm, protecting him from their attacks. He was able to empty the water from this shielded bubble you see, the shield made it impossible to move but he was able to survive days underwater! Days! He even did a silencing charm so he could block out the mermaid's luring voices! Genius wizard, I tell you, brilliant man."

"How did he get out?"

"Sent me messages, through dreams. We were married you see, magic intertwined and all."

"Thank you, Sir Watson." Albus smiled, and the wizard happily nodded before sitting back on his chair and grabbing the book he always seemed to be holding.

Your mouth opened in shock, hands shaking as you brought your hands to your warm cheeks, already wet with tears.

"Tell me. Do you think there is a chance he might still be alive?"

~

You shivered. The wind was rustling harshly, and drops of salt water were picking at your eyes. Your thin coat and skirts of silks were already starting to feel heavy from the accumulated rain drops.

You held your arms close to yourself. This was the place of nightmares, of your nightmares. Your gut was twisting in itself and you felt like you were going to retch everything in you as you walked through the opening to the cavern.

You shivered again. The rain was replaced by the harsh voice of the wind, waves crashing against the rocks of the cliff and the screech you were so familiar with in your nightmares.

The icing screams of the inferi.

Albus Dumbledore muttered something, you assumed a spell, you did not recognise.

Suddenly the pitch black water turned crystal clear.

You could see them. The dead creatures slithering at the bottom of the lake, harshly tapping onto something.

Dumbledore threw something on the other side of the lake using his magic, and only when their attention caught on the pebble and they swam towards it did you see him.

Regulus. You could see his fine features, eyes closed in pain, hand clutched tightly against his wand. Suddenly he breathed again, and you watched as, just like in your dreams, bubbles rose from his lips before air was sucked into the shield he had created himself.

Indeed, Regulus was still alive, and barely hanging on to life.

"Quick, he will not be able to hold it for long."

"What do I do?" Your heart was racing, and your hands clammy as Dumbledore walked closer to the water where Regulus lay.

"Asciendio!" With a flick of his wand, you watched as Regulus was pulled out of the water, faster than the dead creatures could reach.

You dropped by his side, and before you knew it, Dumbledore’s hand was on your shoulder and the three of you aparated to location twelve.

"Regulus," you cradled his head, attempting to lift his upper body. He was coughing, trembling as he tried to hold on to your shoulders for support.

His eyes were bloodshot, his skin paler than his already pearl colour. His plum lips were blue, and the tip of his fingers a matching colour. You held onto him as he continued coughing water, severely shivering in your arms.

"Y/n," he croaked.

"Shh, you're safe my love." You pushed his hair away from his face. Suddenly you felt the weight of his body on you, head heavily resting against your shoulder. He was crying, hot tears streaming down his face. "It's over, my love, you're safe."

Albus wrapped a large blanket over the both of you, and you thanked him as a shiver tumbled down your own spine.

Your hand held tightly onto the back of his head, the other firmly pressed against the space in between his shoulder blades. You shivered with him, your own body shaking with relief and emotions you were yet to decipher.

"He is soaked to the bone Albus, I need to get him home." You spoke through a hoarse voice, tears blurring your vision

"Alright," the elder nodded. "Do you remember our agreement?"

"Yes," you roughly nodded, pressing your cheek against Regulus’s cold forehead, your heavy tears dripping into his hair.

Although his voice held gravity, it wasn’t a hard agreement to maintain. That you’d take care of Regulus, nurse him back to health. That you’d tell him all the things he needed to know, and that if he truly wished to change sides, he would meet with Dumbledore to discuss further agreements.

The rest was the plan for the news of his come back to the purebloods and death eaters.

The story that was bordering truth. That you had seen the signs, that he had sent you the signs and you saved him. But how you were to tell them the story would remain in the choices Regulus had to make upon his return to full consciousness.

Your face softened as you met Dumbledore’s eyes, "thank you, Albus. Thank you."