#Spotted Nutcracker

[uwmspeccoll]

A Corvidae Feathursday

Here are some more wood-engraved birds -- both black and white and hand-colored --by British author and wood engraver Eric Fitch Daglish (1892-1966) from his 1948 publication Birds of the British Isles, published in London by J. M. Dent & Sons in 1948 in a limited edition of 1500 copies. Today we display all the corvids from this volume, from top to bottom:

Common Raven (Corvus corax)

Western Jackdaw (Coloeus monedula)

Red-billed Chough (pronounced "chuf"; Pyrrhocorax pyrrhocorax)

Spotted Nutcracker (Nucifraga caryocatactes) 

Eurasian Magpie (Pica pica)

Rook (Corvus frugilegus)

 Carrion Crow (Corvus corone)

 Eurasian Jay (Garrulus glandarius)

Read more about this book plus view a hand-colored engraving of a Hoopoe here.

View more Feathursday posts.

[birdblues]

Spotted Nutcracker

[thebusylilbee]

never heard of Nucifraga caryocatactes aka the Spotted Nutcracker until today :

this is a corvid who essentially feeds on the seeds of pines, especially the Pinus Cembra also known as the Swiss Pine. They can handle more than 6000 hiding spots at the same time ! This one, unlike its cousin the Jay, doesn't even need markings to find the hiding spots, the visual factor is not part of its memorization process. They can create their hiding spots more than 20km away from where they found the food and still find it again many months later.

France Culture just released a podcast series on corvids in France !!! fuck yeah I know what im doing in the next hours !!!

[antiqueanimals]

The Child's Picture Scrap Book. Containing Upwards of Four Hundred Illustrations by John Gilbert, J. D. Watson, Wolf, Coleman, etc. 1865.

Internet Archive

[isas-bathbombs]

You deserve questions too sammy!

For example, which barbie movie is your favorite?

OH MY GOD IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS QUESTION

i have a few favs this is so hard 😭 in general its always been barbie fairy secret, mariposa and the fairy princess, princess charm school, and pink shoes.

whats urs??

[chronicparagon]

[Small headcanon: Harmony adores ballet. She never got the chance to learn it but would love to see performances if she could. “The Nutcracker” is one she really wants to see.]

[twomothsholdinghands]

I swear a fnaf-type game set in Yankee Candle Village could slap so hard. Uncanny animatronic men and reindeer chasing you through room after room of kitschy home decor. Combine the nostalgia of childhood with white women jumpscares

[ndostairlyrium]

From the OC shop asks: Their pet has caused destruction. Who puts the pet in jail? Who defends the pet?

For as many of your ships as you'd like!

Hi!!! Thanks for asking 💛

El Memo

Oh dear, so, I'm going for all of them lol

Ela & Alistair; She defends the dog, because he's a good boy and he defended Ferelden when times were dire. Alistair would blame the dog for a mess he himself would make << he'd gladly put him into jail too

Barbara & Fenris; The dog did nothing wrong. Destruction was necessary.

Ankh & Cullen; It depends on which pet has caused it (they have 5, horsies included).

Cullen is firmer when educating pets and jail is an option, unless it's Cornelia (Ankh's red hart). Cornelia is rather smart and if she causes destruction there's a good reason behind it (no there isn't, he excuses her because she's fierce). He would explain to her what's wrong, she gets it (yes she does. Will she listen? No.)

Ankh is more on the "eh" side, like, she doesn't care if they do a mess, they're animals, just let them be. But! She does hate the damn crow, and it's reciprocated. Cage it is! Until he frees himself.

[senkayro]

technically an assassin protag will be a rook and crow simultaneously

that's the post

you get DOUBLE the bird symbolism babyyy

[courcgecus]

In mouse world, the Mouse King is pure strength build judging down magic users.

[canonrenaissance]

CR • Christmas Tree Farm

[jagalart]

Corvids

A set of stickers commissioned by the awesome @kyrjaa, who let me print and sell these in the future! Thank you again for this wonderful opportunity, I had so much fun with these <3

The set includes all corvids living in our part of Europe except for one - I need to draw Spotted nutcracker sometime as well :D

[beingjellybeans]

Experience the fairy-tale town of Leavenworth, Washington: a complete travel guide

Leavenworth is a beautiful small town located in the Cascade Mountains in Washington State. Known for its Bavarian-style architecture, the town attracts visitors year-round for its charming ambiance, scenic landscapes, and outdoor recreational activities. It is also a testament to the power of community collaboration and creativity, as what was once a town in decline after its logging industry…

[literaila]

all I want for Christmas is knowing how the atf! Family as a whole spend Xmas together (or New Years, idc) and also how Gojo x reader celebrate it alone 👀

“no, satoru,” you say, for what is probably the thousandth time ever.

you should really start capitalizing on these moments. keep a tally and make him pay you for each mark he gets. each time you have to teach him how to listen.

you’d be richer than him by now, probably.

“but please.”

satoru is on the ground by your feet, literally. his giant head rests against your socks, hands clawing at your very elegantly themed nutcracker pajamas like he’s about to rip them. which, he definitely is.

it’s early enough that you don’t even scold him for it, but blink idly, wondering why you’re still up this early when the children are completely grown—to everyone’s utter dismay—and have never believed in the magic of christmas.

well, megumi, at least. tsumiki, the only person in the room who can’t see curses or use any sort of actual supernatural ability, believes wholeheartedly in all types of magic. it must be easy, considering that she’s a sort of magic all on her own.

megumi, who has been preparing for this moment, steps right over satoru and shrugs down next to you on the couch. he’s also wearing christmas pajamas, but only because you and tsumiki manipulated him into it for fifteen minutes the night prior.

tsumiki is sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, smiling because she’s the only morning person in the house.

also because she’s probably the only one who got any sleep.

“get off,” you tell him, pulling at his hair. “you need to wait your turn.”

“noo,” he whines some more, shaking his head and probably getting snot all over your ankles. his morning voice is nonexistent because you know that he didn’t even attempt to go to bed. which is also why he’s throwing a temper tantrum.

“it’s youngest to oldest. you’re dead last, loser.”

satoru looks up at you, pouting.

you ignore him entirely, turning to megumi. “go ahead, kid.”

megumi sighs, picking at the box you set next to his spot. but before he opens it, he gives satoru a look. “i think she just called you old.”

tsumiki giggles, sipping on her hot chocolate.

satoru, who is now leaning against your legs, entirely too tall for anything, looks back at you, head in your lap, with mystified puppy-eyes. he’s completely outraged. “did you call me old?”

you raise a brow. “i said oldest,” you respond, but your tone claims otherwise, because satoru is getting pretty old.

“i am very youthful—“

“immature,” megumi says, under his breath.

“—and the only one with any decency around here.”

“you’re wearing a shirt that says ‘santa’s favorite ho,’” you deadpan, pulling at his hair some more.

tsumiki giggles again.

satoru shakes your hand away. “it was a gift!”

megumi snorts, finally pulling at the wrapping paper around his present.

you blink. “from yourself.”

“not like any of you were going to appreciate me,” satoru mumbles, crossing his arms. you kiss the top of his head in response, and he grabs ahold of your calf like it’s a hand.

“i got you the pants,” tsumiki says, smiling at him.

“and i’ll wear them until the day that i die,” satoru nods, giving you another pointed look. you just snort.

“what’d you get, megs?”

“it’s a mug that says ‘worlds greatest teacher,’” he hands it to you, brows furrowed, his voice is nonchalant.

“what? i didn’t get you—“

“megumi’s not a teacher,” satoru interrupts, easily enough. he plucks the mug right from your hands. “well, i guess ill take it off your hands since you have no use for it—“

“satoru.”

“what? santa must’ve made a mistake—“

tsumiki laughs into her mug, getting hot chocolate on her face, and pajamas, and another year has passed.

who ever said christmas was about gifts anyway?

the rest of the morning passes, new socks shoved into dressers, books left around the house. tsumiki gets yarn to knit with, and megumi gets gel for his hair—and some new underwear, courtesy of satoru.

christmas doesn’t have a lot of tradition for any of you. maybe it’s because you and gojo grew up without any meaningful holidays, or maybe it’s because tsumiki and megumi barely knew what christmas was before you and satoru were assimilated into their household.

but you spend december putting up lights, buying gag gifts and trying to teach satoru how to wrap a present for the sixth year in a row. none of it is ever the same, and none of it goes very well. lights are broken, trees fall, and no matter how many matching sets of pajamas you buy, one always seems to go missing by christmas eve.

still, everyone laughs together at all of the nonsense and maybe that’s the only tradition that matters.

*

it’s not until later that night that you and satoru are finally alone.

you’re laying in bed, book in hand, trying to purposefully ignore his side eyeing.

but, even after a decade of practice, satoru isn’t easily forgotten. his eyes are too bright, his presence too ingrained in your mind. it’s a curse really, and you shouldn’t welcome it.

but it’s about eleven years too late for that now.

so after ten minutes you sigh, shutting the book. “what?”

“what what?”

“satoru. stop staring at me like a crazy person and talk.”

“what would i have to talk about?” he asks, dazzling smile on his face. he leans over to you, entirely too close. and it’s not a moment later that he pulls a small box from his back, holding it out to you.

how it got there, you’re entirely unsure.

you frown at it for a moment, then groan. “we said no gifts.”

he frowns. “so i’m just supposed to get my wife nothing?”

“yes,” you grab it from his hands, roughly. “because that’s what we agreed on.”

“i don’t think you know me,” he says, almost mystified but entirely teasing

you eye him, lip twitching. then you push the present back into his hands, leaning over to your bedside table.

when you turn back it’s with your own meticulously wrapped present in hand. “i know you,” you whisper to him, handing it over.

“hey,” he says, not at all angry. “we agreed.”

“you’ve never agreed on anything.”

and satoru, as impatient as ever, doesn’t even bother to respond, or even argue back. he just pulls at the bow, ripping the box in two.

and hes already smudged the lens of the new glasses you got him. you begin laughing before he can even look.

“what is this?” he asks, tilting his head at it.

you giggle some more, looking as excited as a child, grabbing the glasses to hold them out towards him. “new glasses,” you say, simply, but your voice is high pitched and on edge. “look.”

satoru grabs them from you again, and looks at the side of the frame. “are these eyes?”

you cover your mouth with a hand and nod. the sides are ingrained with a terrible imitation of satoru’s own eyes, no amount of paint enough to capture the alien-ness of them. still, they’re blue and bright and entirely too hilarious.

he blinks at you, his lips pursed. “are there six of them?”

you hold back a snort and point. “only four. you’ve got two perfectly good ones on your head already.”

and then you burst into laughter, leaning over so you can giggle into the blankets.

satoru is scowling but his face is soft, and maybe he’s smiling at you in disbelief, or admiration. “these are awful,” he says, but puts them on anyway.

“i know!” you say, grinning at him, completely giddy.

he shakes his head, but his face is amused, and nudges his present towards you. “open.”

you’re still quietly laughing to yourself as you open the box, but your smile fades once you see what’s inside.

you pull out a music box, a deep blue with gold embellishments. it’s porcelain and if you drop it, it’d break. you breathe out, then whisper “isn’t this the one we saw at that—“

“at the art festival we went to in october. you said it looked like the one you had at home.”

you look up at him. satoru is still smiling, but when has he ever stopped? “when did you get it? i carried all the bags that day.”

“there was another festival in kanto a month later,” he tells you, pulling it from your hands so he can open it up. “i stopped after a mission to look.”

but before you can thank him, can say it’s beautiful, or wonder how long he thought about it, a tiny dancer pops out, and she’s holding a slip of paper.

“what’s…”

satoru, who can’t wait for anything, grabs it, unfolding it so you can read. but he tells you anyway. “plane tickets. for a trip sometime. us and the kids. i already talked to yaga about time off.”

“satoru—“

“and the higher ups, but that one took longer. they’ll be fine for a week or two.”

you look at him again, lips downturned. “my gift was so dumb.”

he laughs, leaning in so he can press his forehead to yours. “this is for all of us, so we’ll call it even,” he grins, though. “or you could give me a different gift. i have a couple of things in mind—“

you shake your head and crawl to him, pushing him back so you can trap him with your head on his chest. “you’re so dumb.”

he pulls you close and runs his stupid soft hands up from your shoulders to your neck. “i know.”

“i love you.”

“i know,” he answers, still smiling.

[ao3-rex1223]

𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐈𝐕

Pairing: DBF!Leon x Fem!Reader

Tags: vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, cunnilingus,

Summary: Leon is called away to a mission in Spain before Christmas and you wait anxiously to see if he'll make it home in time.

“I’m going to try my hardest to finish in the next couple days,” Leon reassures you over the phone. He’s been away for two weeks on a mission in Spain since a rogue military faction started snooping around for remnants of Las Plagas. You pace Leon’s living room; ever since you two got together, you spend a lot of time waiting at his place. You tell your parents your ‘house sitting’ since they still don’t know you’re secretly dating him, though sometimes you wonder if your father at least suspects and isn’t saying anything. He never questions what you’re doing anymore. As soon as you say you’re going to Leon’s, he simply smiles and nods, never pressing you for further details. 

You flop onto his bed, twirling your hair in your fingers. “Think you’ll be home by Christmas?” you ask, hope rampant in your tone, the holiday only one week away. Your eyes glance around the bedroom you share with him more often than not, lingering on photos of you two placed in simple frames all over. You smile to yourself, feeling the warmth from the happy memories. 

“I wanna be there. I’ll do everything I can, baby.” 

“I’ll make sure your house is nice and Christmas-y for when you get home,” you promise, already envisioning so many decorations, it’ll be like Christmas threw up all over his house!  

I’m sure you will, sweetheart,” Leon replies with a chuckle. 

You hear gunshots ringing in the background, causing your heart to race wildly. “Leon!” you choke out, plagued with worry.

“I better go, baby girl,” Leon says suddenly. You can hear rustling, like he’s moving quickly. “Love you.”

“I love you, too, Leon. Please be careful!” you cry, tears pooling in your eyes. The line goes dead and, as always, you never know if it’s because he hung up or something awful happened. You won’t know until he calls again. It could be hours… It could be days. You take a deep breath and sigh, hands trembling as they hold your phone, eyes staring at the screen with Leon’s image and contact information still displayed. “Just come home,” you whisper to that digital picture. 

In an effort to distract yourself, you make a trip to the local hobby store to find some decorations for Leon’s house. Your mood lifts slightly as you wander the store, picking out every tantalizing Christmas decoration you see, filling the large shopping cart full before you’re even half way through the store. You glance down at your haul so far; reindeer, Santas, porcelain houses, lights, fake snow, candles, garland, nutcrackers, bows, stockings, ornaments, even a few gnomes dressed in holiday garb. You return your gaze to the aisles ahead…and then…in the distance, you spot an eight foot tall synthetic tree, decked out in colorful LED lights and your eyes shine like a small child padding down the stairs on Christmas morning to see all the presents that good old Saint Nick left for them. Beaming, you rush to the nearest employee and ask - no, beg - them to help you get one of those magnificent trees. The twenty something year old worker clearly suppresses an eye roll - not that you’ll let it get to you - and tells you he’ll ‘check the back’. After a few minutes, he returns and tells you there are no more of the trees you wanted in stock. “The closest we have in stock is a nine-footer,” he explains, his tone detached and apathetic, as though he'd explained the lack of stock a dozen times already today and couldn't muster any more effort.

Unwilling to let this Grinch steal your cheerful attitude, you gleefully exclaim, “Oh! I’ll take the nine-foot one, then!” You practically jump up and down. 

“Great,” the worker replies, coldly and turns on his heel, heading back to the stockroom. You bob your head and sing softly along with the Christmas music playing overhead. Finally, the worker returns with a flatbed carrying your beautiful tree. 

After struggling to get it into your car, eventually you strap it to the top and carefully drive back to Leon’s place with your massive purchase of holiday decorations. You link your phone to the stereo in his living room and start playing more Christmas music, along with which you are all too happy to sing. You immediately start putting up the nine foot tree. With tender, loving care, you add lights, ornaments, and tinsel. You string more lights along the mantle of his fireplace and garland on the banisters. The small statuettes you bought find places on his coffee table and end tables. 

Throughout the afternoon, you’re constantly checking your phone to see if Leon has called or at least texted. Nothing. You know he must be pinned down somewhere. He will always let you know he’s okay when he can. You clasp your hands together in a silent prayer for his safety. 

Meanwhile…

Leon forces himself to breathe quietly as militia men scour the decaying laboratory - the one that used to belong to Luis. He stays hidden behind a cabinet, clutching his handcannon in position to fire if needed, but he’s hoping to avoid a direct confrontation, not that it wouldn’t be the first time he’s faced down a hoard of enemies…and it wouldn’t be the first time in this location, either. Flashbacks from that day he came here to rescue Ashley Graham back in 2004 fill his mind. That was long before he met you, before you changed his whole goddamn life. Christ, he misses you. He misses the warmth of your body pressed against his; he misses your smile; he misses your laugh, your kisses, your warm, wet mouth around his-

“Hey! Check over there!” one of the men commands, pulling Leon from his reverie. Fuck, he thinks to himself as he hears heavy boots approaching his hiding spot. He cocks the powerful magnum, ready for a fight. Some big burly motherfucker pokes his ugly head around the corner of Leon’s hiding spot. He growls, bearing his sickly teeth which are quickly blown to pieces by the bullet fired from Leon’s weapon. Shit, can’t catch a break. Guess we’re doin’ this, Leon realizes. He pushes the large man’s limp body away and gets into position, ready to take out anyone else who dares come his way. Nothing, absolutely nothing, will keep him from returning to his girl. 

Back at Leon’s place, you decide to bake some cookies, hoping to have a nice treat for him when he gets back, as if you didn’t practically buy out the store’s entire stock of Christmas decorations. You inhale the warm, homey smell of the delicious dessert, soothing your weary heart, which still worries for Leon’s safety. You take a deep, centering breath, reminding yourself to trust in Leon’s abilities. 

Two days before Christmas, you finally hear from him. “Hey, baby girl. I'm coming home!”

You shriek with joy, jumping up and down in his living room. You spend the day meticulously cleaning the place, making sure it's perfect. 

And on Christmas Eve, near midnight, The door opens, his face marred by fatigue and restless nights, but still handsome as ever. The soft glow of the fireplace illuminates his features in a warm hue. “Baby…” he whispers, his voice barely loud enough to hear. Tears pool in your eyes, your nose tingling as emotion overwhelms you. You rush toward him and throw yourself into his embrace. 

Just like that, with the love of his life in his arms again, Leon feels whole once more. He crushes you against him, soaking in your warmth, soothing his aching soul. He buries his face in your neck, taking in your unique scent. It reminds him why he fights, why he continues to battle the evils of the world, because, as bad as things are, if he can make it a little better for you, it’s worth the pain and effort. For a while, you simply hold each other, the crackling of the fireplace and the quiet whispers of the cold winds outside the only soundtrack for your heartfelt reunion. When you finally part, he gently cups your face and presses his mouth to yours in a tender and passionate kiss. The softness of your lips is a balm for his wary heart. Your tongues slide together in perfect synchrony, a dance of love and devotion. 

You finally break for air, gazing with longing into each other's eyes. “I missed you so much, sweetheart,” Leon coos, his voice cracking slightly from the weight of all his emotions. 

“I missed you too, Leon,” you reply, pressing a delicate kiss to his nose. 

He smiles, his tense muscles finally relaxing after the long and grueling mission. “Hey,” he begins, his voice smooth like butter again, “got something for you…” He bends down to pick up a box with a bunch of holes in it. You look with curiosity at it, certain you hear it…whimpering? A giant red bow adorns the top. He holds the bottom while you lift the lid. Inside is a small, fluffy white puppy, looking up at you with innocent, golden eyes. It yawns, inadvertently showing off its sharp little teeth. Adorably ferocious, you think to yourself. 

“Leon…it’s…” You try to speak, but feel too choked up. Your hands carefully reach in to pick up the helpless ball of fur. Holding it in your arms, it sniffs you cautiously before licking your face, drawing out a genuine, joyful grin from your lips. 

“You remember me telling you about that dog that helped me out all those years ago?” Leon asks. After you nod in affirmation, gently scratching your new friend’s furry cheeks, he continues, “I found him again. Had a litter of pups around. This one was the runt; he wouldn’t do well on his own in the wild, so I brought him home. Thought he could keep you company while I’m away. Merry Christmas, baby.”

Tears fall down your face at the thoughtful gift. “Oh Leon! I love him!” you exclaim, kissing him deeply once again, your soft pup nestled between the two of you. 

After settling the pup - who you decide to name Buddy - into his new home, you and Leon share a bottle of champagne to celebrate his safe return. You clink your crystal glasses and snuggle together on the couch while Buddy snores softly, fast asleep on the recliner. 

Hearts yearning to share the most intimate of connections, Leon lifts you into his arms, bridal style, and carries you to the bedroom, the champagne glasses long since drained of their titular contents. He lays you on the bed with infinite gentleness and crawls over the top of you. He kisses your lips then peppers kisses all along your cheeks and jaw. He pecks a few more just below your ear before whispering, “I love you so much baby. More than anything. I fucking need you.”

You moan softly, cunt getting slippery with your essence, arousal growing, unobstructed. “Leon…I need you, too. I love you!” Tears pool in your eyes again as your feelings for him overwhelm you, yet again. 

He hums his approval at your response, hand gently lifting your shirt, grazing your perfect breasts as he removes it entirely. He growls hungrily as his eyes take in the plush mounds. “Missed these two, as well,” he adds with a smirk and kisses both breasts before taking one hardened bud into his mouth. 

Your teeth take your lower lip between them, biting gently as pleasure begins to fill you, originating from the gentle nibbles on your tits. You can feel his cock hardening, throbbing against your thigh through his pants. He sucks on the fat of your breasts, definitely intending to leave hickies there. Your hands reach down to tug at his shirt. His mouth releases you for mere seconds, long enough to whip his shirt off and throw it across the room. He continues to kiss his way down your taught stomach. His hands grab the waistband of your sweatpants and panties, pulling them down and off, effortlessly. “My Christmas feast…” Leon growls and pushes your legs apart. His thumbs part your wet folds and he looks hungrily at your glistening, pink sex. He licks his lips before diving in, hot, open mouthed kisses claiming your neglected pussy. Your hips roll in time with his expert licks, angling your clit toward his tongue. He closes his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking on it like it’s a rare delicacy. Your abs tighten as your body begins to respond on its own, your back arching hard and your head digging into the bed. Your hands death grip the sheets, nails nearly cutting through the fabric, a mind numbing climax imminent. 

“Leon! I’m cumming! Fuck! I’m cumming!” you cry out, the pleasure worth the wait you had to endure while he was gone. Orgasm ripping through you, he pins you in place with his strong arms while he continues to lick you though your waves of euphoria. As you pant, gasping for air, he kicks off his pants and gives his aching dick a few strokes, precum leaking from the tip. He pushes your legs apart again, which practically fall open whenever he looks at them. 

“Can’t wait to be inside you again, sweetheart. Not at home until I feel your perfect cunt wrapped around my shaft,” He guides his throbbing cock toward your willing entrance, notching the tip past your eager barrier. He drops onto his hands above you, arms caging you in as he slides further inside, the familiar sensation of his thick length filling your tight channel and kissing the entrance to your womb like a warm embrace, a feeling of completeness. “Fuck…you’re so goddamn tight, baby girl. Never gonna get tired of this,” Leon purrs. His mouth connects with yours once more, pouring all of his pent up love and passion into the heated kiss. With tender thrusts, he begins to move inside you. Your eyes roll back in your head as his cock rubs your g-spot, teasingly slow. You moan and whimper, begging for more with incoherent babbles. “Yeah, baby girl. You want more? Want me to put a baby in you, honey?” His mouth returns to your neck, licking and sucking, his own arousal and need growing beyond his control. 

His words make you arch into him even more, the thought of him impregnating you is once again a potent aphrodisiac. “Yes! Please! God, I want it so bad!”

He groans at your impassioned affirmation. He begins snapping his hips forward hard, your tantalizing breasts jiggling with each movement. He withdraws nearly completely out before slamming back inside you again, driven by primal instinct, an innate desire - no, a need - to breed you, to watch your belly swell with his child, to claim you in every way imaginable. He laces your fingers together, pressing them gently into the mattress. His rhythm is frenzied and irregular as he begins chasing his own high. As you cum a second time, you tense, hard, then cry out as your walls collapse on his dick, sucking him in deeper. With a guttural, rough moan, Leon thrusts into you one final time, filling you with his hot, sticky seed. For a long time, he simply remains buried inside you, unwilling to sever the connection just yet. He pulls you with him as he rolls off of you, deciding to keep himself warm inside your delicious heat for the night. “Need you to cockwarm me, baby girl. Been too damn long.”

Your pussy quivers weakly as the last remnants of your orgasm trickle out of you. “Always, Leon. Merry Christmas, baby,” you coo softly, running your fingers tenderly through his hair. 

He closes his eyes as you caress his scalp and rub it gently. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he replies, wrapping his arms tightly around you, pulling you close as he begins drifting off to sleep, comfortable and happy for the first time since he left for the mission to Spain. 

[moonlight-records]

Nutcracker after hours| MV33 (HAC #4)

pairing: mv33 x technical theater!reader

summary: It's nutcracker season and you have taken the role of production stage manager for your theater. Your boyfriend reminds you that he is your biggest fan and supporter.

warning: fluff!

fc: none!

wc: 2.7K

a/n: day 4 of moonlight records holiday advent calendar!

day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | current day | day 5 | day 6

There are two live theater shows that are a trademark for the holiday season. The first one is the Christmas Spectacular starring the Radio City Rockettes in NYC. It truly is spectacular as you got to see the show once or twice on your trips to NYC during the holiday season and you still hope that they’ll release a pro-shot for others to see.

The second show is The Nutcracker. It was the show for the holiday season. A classic in the ballet world that has become a timeless classic. It was a show that you have seen time and time again. Sometimes it’s your own choice but most times it’s because you work The Nutcracker during the holiday season.

You enjoyed working on the show during the holiday season. Most times you’re a crew member backstage helping with the props and a few costume changes when the team wardrobe is spread thin. You got to hang with your now Nutcracker family, as you called them, and it was nothing but laughs, even the stage management team who constantly are running around like chickens without heads. You often came in early with food (or came back with food during two show days) and let them rant about the dance moms. As much as you love stage managing, you did not envy the stage management team dealing with all the dance moms and were very content being just a random crew member.

Though that all changed this year when the production stage manager reached out to you back in May and asked if you would take over for her. She was pregnant and her due date was during the Nutcracker season and the stress of the stage management team you did not need her to deal with during a pregnancy so you stupidly took the job thinking it wouldn’t be that bad.

“I hate dance moms!” You announce as you close the door entering the house. You bring your gaze to the corner of the living room seeing Max on the sim raising his mic as he glances over at you. You cover your mouth and mouth an ‘I’m sorry!’ realizing that he’s on stream. You put your backpack down on the couch gently and sit down as Jimmy and Sassy both make their way over out of their hiding spot and purr as they climb all over you as you take your laptop out.

Hearing shuffling, you glance up and giggle seeing Max’s headset hair as he makes his way over to the couch. He sits next to you tossing an arm over the back of the couch as he leans back. “What was that about hating dance moms?”

You groan at Max’s question as you lean back and rest your head against Max’s head staring at the ceiling. Then you sit forward again as you continue the rehearsal report, because if you stayed at the theater for a second long you were going to rip your hair out, as your eye twitches. “Entitled moms who have done nothing but try to butter up Mrs. Dimitri all rehearsal and have nasty attitudes. You know one mom tried to argue with my asm when they asked her, very kindly, to be quiet backstage because I heard her from the front of the house. You know how loud you have to be for me to hear you in the front of the theater?”

“Pretty loud?” Max asks cautiously.

“Exactly! Also, The Nutcracker has no words and these are moms that have been with the dance school that’s performing for years so you think they'd do no better!” You throw your hands up and turn to face your boyfriend as you continue ranting, “but no. They have no respect for my team or me all because "we’re not Sherry”. That’s exactly what she said to me when I went backstage during break to explain why her behavior was unacceptable.”

Max’s face twists in shock and disgust, “What? Oh absolutely not. Please tell me you gave her a piece of your mind.”

“Sadly, I could not. Again, I was working but Sherry did give me permission to call her if stuff like this arose and I did just that and Sherry chewed her out on speaker and told her that ‘I specifically asked Y/N to fill in since I’m pregnant and close to my due date. Do not let me get another phone call like this again because next one I will not be nice in my wording.” You smile at the memory, “so yeah. Tomorrow should be fun.”

“Oh, liefje,” Max frowns, “I’m sorry you had to deal with that today.” Max pulls you in by his shoulders and gently kisses your forehead, “I’m glad Sherry had your back though.” It takes a second before Max frowns, “wait. You have work tomorrow? I thought tomorrow was your day off.”

“It’s tech. We work until opening day. I was hoping tomorrow would be a quick day but given how horrible today was tech wise, he wants at least an 8 hour day.” You sigh softly as you lean away to continue typing, “so I have to finish the report and send that out to everyone and then update the daily schedule for tomorrow and send that out again and blah blah blah.” You lean into Max, making a face as you speak and laugh along with Max before you shift leaning your back against Max’s side as you type.

When you finish your paperwork and email them out you get up and excuse yourself. You plug your laptop in so it’s ready to go tomorrow before going to shower and changing into pajamas. You come back out drying your hair and smile seeing a take out container from your favorite spot while Max is flipping through streaming services. You sit next to him, thanking him and kissing his cheek before grabbing the closest blanket and putting it over you two. Jimmy and Sassy immediately climb onto your lap and giggle softly as the cats purr and curl up into your lap. Max so kindly passes you your to go container as you two settle down for a movie.

You overslept by accident. When you woke up, you were stumbling out of bed and getting dressed before quickly brushing your teeth before packing your backpack quickly and rushing out the door. You’re in the car when you realize you left your leftovers in the car and groan because if you go back in, you’ll be late. You decide that you’ll just buy lunch as you back out of the driveway and head to the theater.

You get there about an hour before rehearsal starts and by the time everything is set up and ready, including talking to the crew and running them through the day's event, it was time to start. It started with a class lead by the older dancers before you announce to the dancers (and parents who are in the show) that you will be backstage and it will be running at show conditions. That would include all costumes, props, drops, hair, and makeup. You then watch the crew set up for the top of the show after doing an alcohol sweep as well as doing a channel check for the lights. You make your way off stage to give a 15 minute warning to the company before stopping at a rather confused figure entering backstage.

“Max?”

“Ah! Mijn liefje” Max announces as you come over to him, “There you are. This place is gigantic. Thank god you have signs because I would’ve gotten lost.” Max laughs softly while holding a bag and your favorite glass tumbler with iced coffee.

You take the bag and plop it in your chair at your little stage management podium before grabbing the mic and giving the 15 minute warning. Pushing the mic away, you take the coffee from Max, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to give you your lunch. You left it at home and you also were rushing out the door. You didn’t even think about making coffee.” Leaning over to look at your station, he leans back, “and apparently you didn’t even stop for iced coffee.” Pressing the back of his hand gently to your forehead, “are you sick?”

“Ha ha.” You start as you take a sip of your iced coffee and feel the caffeine hit your system which is a breath of fresh air for you, “I overslept and since I needed to open the theater and get everything set up, I didn’t bother.” You shrug casually, “I was just planning on ordering something and having a crew member grab it for me.”

Max stares at you and blinks.

“What?”

“Why would you order something? You can just text me. I’ll drop it off.”

“Oh well, I didn’t know if you’d be on the sim or something so,” you shrug casually, “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Nonsense,” Max pulls his brows together, “you can—” you hold a finger up to signal ‘just a moment’ before pulling the mic back down to give a ten minute warning. It’s early but dancers are never on time. Pushing the mic away you gesture for Max to continue, “—just text me anytime when I’m home. Nothing can be more important than you.” Huffing his cheeks out in slight annoyance, “just for that I’m going to stay in case you need anything.”

Putting your lips together you let it mull over. Technically, Max should not be backstage considering he was not a part of the show at all but after the day you had yesterday, you would love to see your boyfriend.

“Fine.” You hold a hand up, “but you have to follow some rules.”

“Y/N.” Max wiggles his nose slightly.

“Max. You have to follow these rules if you want to stay. I’m already breaking one by letting you stay. Technically if you aren’t a dancer, a parent, or a part of the crew you should not be back here so please.”

“Fine. What are the rules.”

“Don’t be too loud. Don’t touch anything on the table or even think about touching the fly rail system. You can pull a chair up and sit by me but don’t wander, please. Also please, for the love of god, when I say ‘standby’ on headset do not speak. I need complete silence and that goes for everyone else around me and everyone on headset.” You look at your boyfriend, “can you do that?”

“Easy.”

“You say that now.” You smile, “you can always step out if needed.”

You turn to give the five minute warning as Max snorts before finding a chair and bringing it over. Once you give the final ‘places for top of show’ you sit in your own chair and put your headset on.

“Coms check. Rail?”

“Here.”

“Thank you. Lighting?”

“I’m here!"

“Great! Spot one?”

“Hello hello.”

“Hey there. Spot two?”

“Yuuuuuuur!”

“Yuuuuuuuur.” You grin. “Sound?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Wonderful! Rail, can I have the main in?”

“Working.” It gives a beat as you watch the main curtain come in on the monitor before you hear “complete” on the coms.

Thank you. Finally, stage left?”

“Ready whenever you are.”

“That’s what I love to hear.” You sing and try to ignore Max looking up at you in awe seeing you in your element. Opening your iPad case, you pull the “script” up, which is just the score with all the cues, as you hear the door behind you open. You glance down and snicker at Max’s face twisting from awe to shock as all the children and adults start filing in. You mouth ‘I told you’ before turning back to the monitor as you crack your neck.

“Alright everyone. Have a great show! Standby sound for pre-show, LX for lights 101 and 102 and rail out. Pre-show and lights 101 go.” You listen to the announcement as you watch the house lights dim as the show begins.

You go from sitting to standing. Even though you had a wired headset, it was long enough that you could pace back and forth in between calls to make sure everything was fine. A few times, you turn and jump when Max is behind you. You almost yell at him before realizing and taking a breath. He offers a sheepish smile and murmurs an ‘apology’ because it was a force of habit that Max turns into your shadow when you start moving. You mouth ‘that it’s fine but you need to sit‘ because you did not need something going wrong while Max is trying to be your shadow.

The first act goes without a hitch. After the curtain drops the dancers scatter off the stage chatting and laughing when intermissions rolls around as you give a 15 minute warning for the top of act 2. You lean back in your chair, taking your headset off and closing your eyes for a moment.

“Wow.”

You open your eyes as you bring your gaze to your boyfriend. Your eyes meet turquoise eyes shining in awe, “You’re amazing at stage managing.”

You blush slightly and break your gaze first. “Oh, thanks babe. It’s nothing, really.”

“Do not start to undersell yourself. I mean it, Y/N.” Max turns to face you, leaning on the arm of your chair and you can’t help to bring your gaze back to your boyfriend, “I mean it. Sure, I don’t understand most of what is going on but I know damn well that if you put me in front of that iPad and told me to do it I would be utterly lost. Even with a show that has words, I wouldn’t be able to do half the things you do while also being extremely professional and nice,” leaning in his voice drops as he murmurs, “because you are right. Dance moms are fucking cunts.” Leaning back and clearing his throat, “Really. You’re amazing at this.”

Typically, you brush compliments off when it comes to your job because it’s well, your job. You know how hard and demanding the job is sometimes and you always joke that you truly hate yourself to put yourself through this torture but it was rewarding at the end of the day. Though hearing it come from Max, who knows little to theater, your heart flutters as you melt into your chair slightly. “Thank you, babe.” You murmur softly as you gently while rubbing soothing circles into his cheek. You smile as Max leans into your touch, kissing your palm gently.

“Of course, mijn liefje.” Max murmurs softly as he settles down as you turn away to grab the mic. You continue to make the calls to the company before act two is under way.

By some miracle, Mr. Dimitri is pleased after the second run through of the show and ends rehearsal early which you’re thankful for. You get the report out along with the daily schedule before making your way onto stage with your crew to run them through what the game plan would be for opening night. You make sure everything backstage is locked up before walking out the front lobby with Max saying goodbye to the front of house staff, who in return say goodbye to the two of you.

Once outside, both you and Max shield your eyes since it’s still sunny out though you put your hand down only a moment after, eyes readjusting.

“Fucking hell,” Max mutters as he blinks a few times and his eyes readjust. “How did you readjust so fast?”

“When you do this so often, your eyes just train themselves.” You explain, “Well…I didn’t actually plan to get out as early as we did so is there anything you want to do?”

Ruffling through his pockets, “I do.” Max pulls out a ticket and hands it to you with the most innocent shit eating grin.

Raising a brow, you take the ticket and laugh. It’s one of the homemade tickets you made for Max. He’s decided to cash his ‘one free cuddle session for however long the owner of the tickets wants’. “Well, Mr. Verstappen, how long are you requesting a cuddle session?”

Pulling you in by your waist, Max hums softly and tilts his head. “Rest of the day?”

Wrapping your arms around Max’s neck, “I can do that.”

“Well, come on.” Max gently tugs you and you giggle, stumbling into Max slightly as he leads you two to his arm.