#also merry christmas and new year or whatever

[leftoversludge]

argggghhhhhhhuuuhhhhhhhggghhhh

[lissdiary]

during the holidays, it was tradition to participate in secret santa with the class. you reached into the basket, picking a folded piece of paper with one of your classmate’s name on it. you hoped it was katsuki’s name, but unfortunately it wasn’t. it was mina’s name on the paper, and while you absolutely adore her you had hope it would’ve been him.

you noticed denki handing the basket to katsuki to grab a paper. he unfolded it and hid in his pocket, you couldn’t help but wonder who’s name was on his paper. you had a crush on katsuki for a few months now and when your friends began teasing the both of you, it lead to you slowly getting to know another. you both grew a close bond, causing your crush on him to grow more and more. that same night, you were walking to your dorm when you noticed katsuki opening his door, leaving it slightly open. it was a sign for you to come in, a common thing the two of you do when you wanna talk to each other.

you knock twice before you opened the door, spotting the blonde cleaning his desk. “hey kats, whatcha doing?” you walked up behind him, catching him off guard. he jumped to the sudden question, putting whatever was on his desk away. “nothin, nun of yer’ business.” he closed his drawer, turning around to look at you. “didn’t look like nothing to me, was that for your secret santa?” you teased him, causing him to roll his eyes and sit on his bed. you followed, sitting beside him. “tch, no. i’m not doin’ that.” he spat out. you knew katsuki wasn’t the brightest or most spirited person, but you had hope he would’ve participated if your name was on his paper. guess not.

the next day, you asked katsuki to accompany you to go shopping. you wanted to grab a few things for yourself, but also for mina. you instantly knew what to get her, a gift she’d happily accept. katsuki followed you around like a pup, putting on an act as if he didn’t enjoy it.

you stumbled upon a store that had cute fashionable clothes that appeared to look like mina’s style. you grabbed a couple shirts and skirts and went upfront to pay. at the counter, there was a display of phone charms. you already had one but the color was wearing off and it was hanging on by a thread. you grabbed one of the phone charms to look at it closer, but ended up putting it back since you already have one. katsuki took a mental note of this, looking at your phone charm then looking at the new more detailed one. he knew you liked stuff like that, plus it was time for a new one. after a while, you both decided to head back to the dorms in order to prepare mina’s gift.

katsuki notices everything about you, your favorite coffee order, the way your perfume smells, whether you prefer gold or silver, your favorite flower, and your favorite season.

as christmas came by, your gift was nicely wrapped topped with nice lacy ribbon. you sat on the couch, waiting for secret santa to commence. you noticed katsuki was sitting across from you with his hands in his pockets, a slight angry pout on his face. when it was your turn, you grabbed your gift and walked over to mina. “merry christmas!” she took the gift in her hands, opening it excitedly. she squealed, “aw thank you soo much, yn! i love it!” she stood up from her seat to give you hug. you sat back down and waited for your gift.

after it was over, you realized you didn’t receive a gift this year. “oh, yn doesn’t have a gift? did someone forget?..” you thought to yourself, maybe someone had forgotten to get a gift, or forgotten to put your name in the basket. you went upstairs to your dorm, teary eyed at the fact that someone forgot about you.

you noticed katsuki’s door was slightly open again, you knocked twice before entering. katsuki was sitting on his bed, a gift basket beside him. he still had his typical angry pout on his face, but this time he looked nervous. “merry christmas”, he mumbled looking away from you. “kats? what is this?” you walked up to the basket, quickly noticing how it was filled with everything you love or recently mentioned to him. “ts for you, idiot. i was your secret santa.” you looked at him with tears in your eyes, giving him the biggest hug.

you felt so relieved to know that someone got you a gift, that katsuki had gotten you a gift. “thank you, kats.” you got off of him to look at the basket, you immediately noticed the phone charm. “did you seriously go back just to get this for me?” you picked it up, removing the old one to replace it. “tch, noticed yer old one was all worn out, thought it was time for a new one. yer welcome.” your heart jumped, you never realized how much he truly payed attention to you. katsuki had went out of his way to get everything for you, on top of that decorating it to your liking. “thank you kats.”

“yea whatever.” he mumbled.

christmas couldn’t have gotten any better.

sweet request from @teddi1423 ♡!

— sorry if i’m lagging on reqs, i’ve been so busy this whole week & will continue to be until next week ! i promise to publish soon !

[theonottsbxtch]

WAR IS OVER | CL16

an: this has been in my drafts for so long and i’ve been so excited to share it with all of you! listen to happy xmas by john lennon to enhance experience or whatever. MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!! (if you don’t celebrate, then happy holidays and happy new year!) also this is low-key slightly angsty and emotional but HEA!!

airforce!charles x reader

wc: 2.8k

Snowfall had begun in earnest that December, blanketing the village in a hush so profound it felt as though the world itself were holding its breath. The young woman stood at the kitchen sink, hands submerged in icy dishwater, staring absently out the frost-etched window. The sky was a pale grey, a curtain of wintry gloom stretched thin over rooftops where chimneys smoked and whispered of warmth.

She glanced down at her hands, red from the cold despite the scarf wrapped snug around her wrists, and sighed. Dorothy and Julian were in the parlour, their laughter spilling into the house like sunlight. Dorothy had spent the morning cutting paper chains while Julian orchestrated a kingdom of tin soldiers on the hearth. Their joy pierced her heart like shards of glass—a reminder of Charles. Julian’s unruly hair fell into his eyes just the way his father’s had, and Dorothy’s cheeky smile carried the same tilt of mischief.

The letter was still hidden in her dresser drawer, folded too neatly for something so devastating. It had arrived in the brittle chill of early November, its official tone draining all warmth from the room as she read the curt words: "Presumed missing, believed dead." Protocol, they’d called it. A mechanism for closing doors, for stitching the torn fabric of lives left behind. But the wound in her heart remained unsewn.

The children didn’t know. How could they? She had tucked the grief away, smothering it beneath cheerfulness she didn’t feel. “Mummy, can we have plum pudding this year?” Dorothy had asked, her face aglow with anticipation. She had forced a smile then, nodding and promising, though the thought of Christmas without Charles’s deep laugh, his steady presence, seemed unbearable.

As the evening descended, the village grew quiet save for the occasional crunch of boots on snow as neighbours hurried home. The lights on the tree—a scraggly thing Julian had insisted was perfect when they’d brought it in—glimmered faintly, their glow reflected in the baubles Charles had hung last year. She turned away, blinking back tears, and began laying the table for supper.

That night, as she tucked Dorothy and Julian into bed, their excitement was infectious. “Father Christmas is coming soon!” Julian declared, his small fists clutching the quilt.

“He won’t forget our house, will he?” Dorothy asked, her voice serious.

“Of course not,” she replied, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest. She kissed their foreheads, inhaling their innocent warmth, and closed the door quietly behind her.

In the stillness of her bedroom, she unfolded the letter once more. The inked words blurred as she stared at them. It was easier, somehow, to believe that the man who had written her so many tender notes, who had kissed her hand on their wedding day, was merely gone for now. Lost but not beyond reach. Yet the shadows of doubt loomed larger with each passing day.

She had told no one. Not her neighbours, whose own husbands and sons littered foreign graves. Not her children, who still whispered prayers for their father each night. She carried it silently, a solitary burden she could neither lay down nor bear much longer.

Outside, the bells of St. Mary’s chimed the hour, each peal a cruel reminder of time’s unyielding march towards Christmas. A Christmas that loomed hollow and bereft. She pressed her forehead to the cold glass, her breath misting the windowpane. Beyond, the world glittered as if untouched by sorrow, as if unaware of her breaking heart.

Christmas morning arrived with the world awash in golden light, the snow outside sparkling like diamonds. Dorothy and Julian burst into her room, their faces alight with the boundless excitement of the day.

“Mum! It’s Christmas!” Julian shouted, already tugging her from her bed.

Dorothy held a small package, wrapped in newspaper and tied with string. “This one’s for you! We saved it, just for today.”

The sight of their shining faces filled her with guilt and gratitude in equal measure. She managed a smile, sitting with them by the hearth as they tore into their small pile of gifts. Wooden soldiers for Julian, a tin tea set for Dorothy—modest treasures in a time of rationing, but enough to spark joy in her children.

As they played, a commotion erupted outside. Shouts echoed down the cobbled street, punctuated by the sharp clang of a handbell.

“The war is over! It’s over!”

She froze, the words piercing through her like sunlight breaking a storm. From her seat on the rug, Dorothy gasped. “Mummy, does that mean Daddy’s coming home?”

She couldn’t speak, the question lodging like a thorn in her throat. All she could do was pull them close, and smile.

“Let’s go outside and celebrate!” She replied instead, walking over to the coat hangers.

She bundled the children into their coats and scarves, their squeals of excitement filling the small house. Dorothy’s cheeks were already pink with joy, her hands fumbling with her mittens.

“Mummy, hurry!” Julian urged, hopping from foot to foot. “We have to go see!”

She forced a smile and kissed the top of his head. “Go on, both of you. I’ll be just a moment.”

The children dashed out into the snow, their laughter spilling down the lane to join the jubilant cries of the neighbours. She closed the door softly behind them, the house falling quiet once more.

Leaning against the door, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Her hands trembled as she pressed them to her face, the tears spilling unchecked now that no one was there to see. The news should have been a balm, but it felt more like a cruel twist. The war was over, but Charles would not be coming back with the others. She was sure of it now, the hope that had lingered for so long finally extinguished.

The house felt cavernous again, the weight of her solitude pressing down on her chest. She moved into the kitchen, the floorboards creaking underfoot. The sight of the breakfast dishes—half-eaten toast and crumbs left behind in the morning’s rush—only deepened her ache.

She braced herself against the sink, staring out at the frost-covered garden. Her shoulders shook, the sobs spilling out of her like waves breaking against a crumbling shore. She had carried this grief alone for so long, but now it threatened to consume her entirely.

“Mummy?”

The soft voice startled her, and she turned to find Dorothy standing in the doorway, her small face pinched with concern.

“Why are you crying?” Dorothy asked, stepping forward with cautious, measured steps.

“I’m not, darling,” she lied, hastily dabbing at her cheeks.

“You are,” Dorothy said plainly, slipping her hand into her mother’s. “But you don’t have to. The war’s over, and Daddy would want us to be happy. You should come outside. Everyone’s singing.”

The simplicity of her daughter’s words cut straight through her. She knelt, wrapping Dorothy in a fierce hug, the warmth of her small body grounding her.

“All right, love,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Let’s go and celebrate.”

Dorothy smiled and tugged her hand, leading her to the door.

The street was alive with celebration. Neighbours who had spent years steeped in quiet, rationed hardship now spilled into the snow-covered road, their faces alight with relief and joy. Someone had hauled a wireless outside, the strains of carols mingling with the jubilant cheers. A man passed with a tray of mince pies, offering one to Julian, who accepted with sticky-fingered glee.

Dorothy twirled in circles, her arms outstretched as snowflakes caught in her hair. Her mother stood at the edge of the crowd, watching her children with a tender ache. For their sake, she tried to let herself feel the joy that surrounded her, to bask in the miracle of peace.

“Mummy, look!” Julian called, pointing to a group of men raising a toast with tin mugs. “Maybe Daddy’s with them!”

Her breath caught. She scanned the crowd reflexively, knowing in her heart she wouldn’t find him there. Yet she let Julian cling to the hope she couldn’t bear to shatter.

As the afternoon waned, she gathered her children, their cheeks red from the cold, their hands clutching treasures gifted by neighbours—sweets, a small wooden horse for Julian, a knitted scarf for Dorothy.

Inside, the warmth of the house embraced them, the fire crackling merrily in the grate. She shepherded them upstairs, brushing away their protestations.

“Christmas isn’t over, Mummy,” Dorothy said, yawning despite herself.

“No, it isn’t,” she said with a small smile, tucking her daughter in snugly. “There’s still tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after that.”

She kissed their foreheads, lingering just a moment longer to drink in their innocence. How had they carried on, so untouched by the weight that threatened to crush her? She envied them their resilience, their belief that the world could be made whole again.

Once they were asleep, she descended the stairs, the house eerily quiet once more. The fire in the hearth glowed faintly, its light casting long shadows across the room. She settled into her worn chair, pulling a shawl around her shoulders, her hands curled around a steaming mug.

The world outside had stilled. The street celebrations had quieted, the snow falling again in soft, measured drifts. Her thoughts wandered to Charles, as they always did when the house was silent. She tried to picture his face as it had been the last time she saw him, standing tall in his uniform, a brave smile hiding the fear she knew he felt.

A sharp knock broke through her reverie. She startled, her mug slipping from her hands and clattering to the floor. For a moment, she sat frozen, her heart racing. Who could be calling at this hour?

She rose slowly, her legs trembling as she crossed the room. The cold air seeped in as she opened the door, her breath catching in her throat.

There he stood, framed by the golden glow of the streetlamp behind him. His uniform was tattered, his face pale with exhaustion, but it was him—Charles.

“Hello, love,” he said softly, his voice hoarse but warm, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Her hand flew to her mouth, a sob escaping her lips as the weight of the months, the grief and fear, melted away all at once. “I thought you were dead,” she choked, her words barely a whisper.

He stepped forward, his arms wrapping around her tightly, solid and real. She clung to him, her tears soaking into his coat as he murmured soothing words, his voice trembling with emotion.

For the first time in what felt like forever, her heart felt whole.

For a long moment, she couldn’t let go of him. Her hands clung to his coat as if he might vanish if she dared loosen her grip. The snowflakes clinging to his hair melted into beads of water, and his warmth seeped into her, chasing away the cold that had lived in her heart for months.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered again, her voice trembling.

“I nearly was,” he admitted, his voice low, hoarse with emotion and exhaustion. He pulled back slightly to look at her, his hand lifting to brush away her tears. His touch was tender, his fingers lingering as though trying to memorise her face. “There’s so much to tell you, love. The mission went wrong… we were shot down. Most of us didn’t make it. I was captured—held prisoner for weeks.”

She gasped softly, her heart breaking anew at the thought of what he must have endured. “Oh, Charles…”

“It’s over now,” he said, his voice steadying as he cupped her face in his hands. “I escaped when the retreat began. It was a long road back, but I’m here. I’m back. And I’m not going anywhere again. Ever.”

The tears came fresh, her relief pouring out in sobs that wracked her entire frame. He pulled her close, his arms encircling her as he held her tightly, anchoring her in the moment.

When she looked up at him again, he smiled, the lines of weariness softening into something infinitely gentle. She reached up, her hand trembling as she touched his cheek, then leaned in, her lips brushing his. The kiss was slow, delicate, and filled with everything she couldn’t put into words—her anguish, her longing, her love.

When they finally broke apart, his forehead rested against hers, and he let out a soft, shaky breath.

“The kids?” he asked, his voice hushed, as though afraid to disturb the peace of the moment.

She smiled through her tears, taking his hand. “Come on,” she whispered, leading him up the stairs.

The house was quiet save for the creak of the floorboards beneath their feet. She paused at the children’s door, easing it open with care. The soft glow of the moonlight spilled through the window, illuminating Dorothy and Julian as they slept soundly, their faces peaceful.

Charles stepped into the room, his hand still in hers. He knelt by Julian’s bed first, his expression softening as he took in the sight of his son. His fingers brushed the boy’s dark hair, and his throat worked as though he were fighting back tears.

Then he moved to Dorothy, his gaze lingering on her delicate features. She stirred slightly in her sleep, murmuring something incoherent before settling again.

“They’ve grown,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“They have,” she said, her own voice trembling. “They look so much like you.”

He glanced back at her, his eyes shining, and then turned to gaze at them again. “I can’t believe I almost missed this. Missed them.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, the two of them standing together in silence for a long moment, watching their children sleep. It was a moment she thought she’d never have again—a moment that felt too precious to disturb, too fragile to let go.

When they finally left the room, closing the door quietly behind them, he pulled her into his arms once more. “I’m back,” he murmured against her hair. “Back for good. We’re whole again, love. Whole.”

The quiet of the house enveloped them as she led him to their room. The door creaked softly as she pushed it open, revealing the familiar space that had so often been her refuge—and her prison—in his absence. The room felt warmer with him in it, the shadows less oppressive, the air lighter.

Charles stood just inside the doorway, his weary eyes scanning the room, as if grounding himself in the life he had fought so hard to return to. She turned to him, her fingers trembling as they moved to the buttons of his tattered coat.

“Let me,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on her face as she worked the buttons loose, one by one. The coat slipped from his shoulders, heavy with the weight of everything he’d been through. She caught it before it hit the floor, draping it carefully over a chair. When she looked up again, she saw his shirt beneath, threadbare and stained, a testament to all he hadn’t told her yet.

Her breath hitched, and she reached out to touch him—his chest, solid and warm beneath the worn fabric. Her tears came again, spilling silently as she rested her forehead against him.

“War is over, Cha,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “It’s over.”

His hand came up to cup the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair as he held her close. “It’s over,” he echoed softly, his voice steady, as if speaking the words made them real.

They stood like that for a long moment, the only sound the faint crackle of the fire downstairs and the whisper of the snow against the window. She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, and in his eyes, she saw the same relief, the same raw gratitude that coursed through her.

Wordlessly, she led him to the bed, pulling back the quilt she had lain under alone for far too long. He eased down beside her, his body sinking into the mattress with a sigh of exhaustion. She followed, curling against him as he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close.

For the first time in months, the bed didn’t feel so empty, the darkness didn’t seem so vast, and the ache in her chest was no longer unbearable. They lay in silence, the words unspoken between them carried in the warmth of his touch, the steadiness of his breathing.

As sleep began to claim them, she whispered into the stillness, “You’re home, Charles.”

And in the soft darkness, he answered, his voice a balm to her weary soul: “I’m home.”

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow

[agatalunar]

new year, new me… ㅤㅤ𖤓 · What will 2025 bring you? ㅤㅤ· 𖤓

merry christmas everybody 🤍🎄 sorry for the delay, I hope you enjoy this last reading of the year, and as always thank u for your support… it would be a pleasure for me if you let me know if the reading resonated with you so do not hesitate to send me a message, comment or reblog, it will make me immensely happy

- choose the one with which you feel most connected -

Pile 1… 2… 3…

ㅤㅤ

𖤓 Pile 1

cards: five of pentacles, six of wands, five of wands, nine of pentacles, five of coups

Independence is a great word for this year that is beginning. You are going to start facing the world on your own, so you must act with certainty. It is a year of a lot of personal growth in relation to how you want to present yourself to the world, what you offer.

“Adult life is no longer a game.” You may be a very, very young person or you may not have had the opportunity to do things on your own, but if you really want the things you want, it is important that you take action.

It is a year in which your soul is going to take very different paths in relation to the past and all of them will be good if you know how to choose them and know how to handle them. For some reason it is as if you are embarking on the path of being a CEO/ a type of boss (?)

Getting out of your comfort zone, recognizing your potential and having security and confidence will lead you to success. Use your mind but also your heart, do not let greed or ego guide you. You may want this to help your family's finances, but you are also doing it for yourself. You deserve to get everything you want and the universe is helping you get it in 2025. Be patient and don't despair. Everything comes at the best time.

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

Happy than ever - Billie Eilish, This will be - Natalie Cole, “we don't play around”, Let me - Zayn, Whatever - Oasis, “Im freeee”, applause, decisions, “all action is reaction”, being latinx or latin descent, depend on others financially, Cuba or Miami, 565, 6, 3, 333, “I used to pray for what I have today”, Simple - Kali Uchis, Jenny from the block - Jennifer Lopez, emigrate-migrate, vision board

Thank you for your time and energy, dear pile 1 ♡

𖤓 Pile 2

cards: eight of pentacles, knight of swords, the moon, knight of cups, the dead

2025 brings you a lot of internal learning. Your guides want to communicate with you. Dive into the spiritual sea of ​​your soul and life purpose. Dare to see what has been hidden for a long time.

You will know and recognize yourself from a deeper perception, you may need to connect with your past lives, understand where certain repetitive patterns come from, your soul needs to be healed and there is no one else who can do it but yourself.

If for a long time you have wanted to buy crystals, tarot cards, learn more about astrology, meditate... 2025 is the perfect year to carry all that out.

Do not set expectations, enter that path with a blank mind. "Reborn." You will become the most authentic version of yourself when you manage to recognize the spirituality in which you live. Do journaling, automatic writing, guided meditations... etc. And remember that healing the soul is also about eating well, surrounding yourself with people who have positive intentions, not being hard on yourself and just taking life easy.

This process will also change your style, you will want to dress differently, your observation of yourself will change completely and everything will be for your highest good. Your spiritual guides can't wait for you to take that big step... "do it, do it baby"

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

Frailty - Violent vira, 18, 8, “save yourself”, third eye chakra, role models, Very special - Chris brown, Nobody - mitski, Conquest of Paradise- Vangelis, watch things on the laptop at 3 am, Chachachá - Josean Log, Blueprint - Tyler Jane, blue light

Thank you for your time and energy, dear pile 2 ♡

𖤓 Pile 3

cards: the chariot, the magician, knight of cups, eight of wands, the moon

“Just take it easy, baby, enjoy it”. Literally just have fun, 2025 is a year where you shouldn't think about things so much, “don't overthink it”. Act like a child, enjoy the moment, don't worry about what might happen. But just because you let yourself be guided by the universe doesn't mean you have to leave your inner voice behind, use your intuition, have faith and trust but act consciously.

DANCE, connect with your inner child. Don't care what people might say, it's your life and you decide how to live it. Dare to challenge the rules you've been forced to follow. Connect more with music, it may be a way for you to heal or simply relax.

Be your best friend, no one will know you as well as you know yourself. Take care of yourself in all aspects, physically, energetically and above all emotionally and mentally. Transform nostalgia into healing potential.

Just as you act when no one is watching, act the same way when everyone is watching; 2025 will be a year of great satisfaction for you, the universe embraces you and pats you on the shoulder so that you take the next step.

Things that may resonate with you or are significant:

BTBT - B.I, 222, False starts - Zayn, “trust me, you’re not gonna crash”, butterfly, Felling good - Nina Simone, wings, Alma mia - Natalia lafurcade, cherry, strawberry, makeup for children, 2000s, Deceptacon - Le Tigre, blue shirt with white stripes, party decoration, dancing in the kitchen, rock, music from your childhood or what your dad listened to, Rock you like a hurricane - Scorpions, As it was - Harry Styles, “be a diva”, You & Me - Jennie, Opera House - Cigarettes after sex, Modern Love - David Bowie, The breakfast club

Thank you for your time and energy, dear pile 3 ♡

[irndad]

Christmas Wrapping- a.h.

a/n: i'm back and this is sad (no, really, it's a sad christmas fic. merry crisis!! also writing this made me think of @hotchfiles lol- lari i hope u like it <3 summary: 2 years ago, hotch broke up with a lovely but eccentric woman, and is thinking about this while attending a christmas party.

It’s Christmas, and it’s New York, and Aaron doesn’t want to be here. 

He always feels guilty when he misses Christmases with Jack, and it’s painful to admit that it’s happened more than once. He’d been understanding, but Jack is almost ten now, and the resentment in his voice is subtle, but sometimes Aaron could swear he could hear Haley’s voice in it. 

This dinner wasn’t optional- a director that was above him mentioned that if he wanted his career to advance, he couldn’t afford not to attend events like tonight. Which as far as thiny veiled threats go, is one of the lease concealed ones he’s received in a good bit. 

New York always makes him think of her. Even though their relationship ended two years prior, she sticks in his mind like a song, the melody never quite getting to be grating. She’d loved being called his girlfriend, and Aaron had loved the way she loved it. She was younger than him, by a little over a half-decade. But still, she’d worn it better than he had. He still remembers the sight of her, meeting him at his office (never inside, lest the team tease him endlessly), in her green shoes and multicolored scarf, hair in a clip that had been lazily thrown up, and a smile that dazzled him. 

“Are you ready, Mr. Hotchner?” he remembers her saying, on the other side of a memory lit in warm, glowy lights. 

“I don’t think I can endorse whatever you have planned for me.” He’d replied back in jest at the time. 

The walk from his hotel to the host of the party’s home is cold. He think it might be colder in Quantico, but his memory feels colder and seeps into his bones. 

He might’ve married her, Aaron muses to himself. It all feels so silly to think about. But she was hard not to think about when she was his to ponder over, and she sticks in the back of his mind even after he had made he decision not to. 

She’d been generous with him, the entirety of it all. Gentle with him when he mentioned that he wasn’t ready to tell the team, even if she’d known that he hadn’t waited eight months with Beth. More than that, she was beautiful. not just in her appearance, which was lovely in and of itself, but in how she carried herself. Warm, and kind- Jack would’ve loved her. 

He thinks of her laugh, how she’d picked off all of the salmon roe on their fancy 5 month anniversary dinner, and eaten the meal without it- how she booked Amtraks to visit family, because it gave her more time to read on the way, and no one would make her drive once she got there. How she traced hearts into his wrist when  she could tell he was anxious, read him like a book he never gave anyone permission to see. Loving her was a pleasure, an indulgment. An expensive wine sipped with leisure. 

A honk of a cab shakes him out of his memories, but it doesn’t stick. She’d loved Brooklyn, loud cabs and overpriced brownstones all the same. Sometimes, when doing monotonous paperwork, he’d fantasize about buying her one, a new home in her dream city, Jack and maybe a sister. 

The way it had fallen apart was one of the least proud moments of his life. Because she was different- not polished, or withdrawn in how she carried herself. It was what made her a pleasure to know- she smiled with her whole face, hugged people like she knew they might need it, wore her favorite colors because she wanted to see them whenever she passed a mirror. And he was a behavior analyst. 

“Could I meet your friends?” he’d frozen, when he’d heard it. Her voice was soft, like she was nervous. “I know you were wanting to wait, but you know- you’ve met my graduate school friends. They were thoroughly impressed.”

He didn’t feel impressive to them, and he suspects she might be being kind in this moment. 

“I just think you wouldn’t like them, honey.” He feels rotten lying to her, but the idea of it- of the team knowing that she is the person he loves- it feels like a magnifying glass under the sun. 

“I find that hard to believe, Aaron. And either way, I’m telling you, it would mean the world to me to know them.” 

He’d been backed into a corner, he’ll tell himself, later. This will be a lie, and it’ll be a lie he knows, even as he tells himself it. 

“I just think we shouldn’t do that until we’re sure about eachother.”

The silence that had followed felt chasms wide. She’d been silent in front of him before- when he’d come to her apartment too tired to speak but still needing to be held, and she’d lit a candle and massaged his hands, easing the carpal tunnel from writing paperwork. Or when she held his hand waiting for Jack’s results, when he’d gotten a fever they hadn’t been able to shake. This silence was different. Long and dissapointed, and Aaron felt like he couldn’t breathe under the shame of it. He watched her wipe a single tear from her eye, and grab her novel that had been sitting on his coffee table for the last six months. 

“I can’t make you sure about me, Aaron. I don’t really want to try.” 

It had ended like that. Reminiscing on the whole affair had made the walk feel short, although he could feel a tear welling in his eyes. His body knew her absence, and still does. Even now, walking to this party he doesn’t want to go to, he imagines what it would be like to have the shape of her pressed into the side of it. 

Aaron thinks to himself, before buzzing into the building, that he wasn’t ashamed of her. He’d wondered since the end of the first relationship he’d felt held in, if he left it because he was ashamed. But he wasn’t. He was unwilling to submit to the plain, unmediated joy of her touch. 

He was almost done ruminating on this, until he knocked on the door, and there she was. 

Aaron- he almost wonders if he’s hallucinating, because there she is. And she’s fucking gorgeous. She always is, but she’s so lovely tonight. Maybe it’s the fact he hasn’t seen her in so long, or maybe it’s just that she is that lovely, but the warm light of the party and Christmas Wrapping playing in the background- she looks like vision plucked from a movie. 

She’d kissed him at midnight to this song, once. 

Now, she’s beaming at him, opening her door to welcome him as a stranger into a party. 

“Aaron! Is that you?” it’s a physiological response, the jump in his chest, when she says his name. “My god, it’s so good to see your face!” 

She hugs him, and she still wears the same perfume. Her arms are warm and her face is in his chest, and even though it’s less intimate than all the ways she’s held him before, it feels kind. 

“It’s so good to see you too- what are you doing here?”

It’s a blunt question, but she doesn’t seem to mind, as she ushers him into home. It’s a family apartment, old-school and clearly well-loved.

“My husband liasons with the FBI, actually! His boss said they needed a get-together space, and so we offered up our apartment. It’s cute, right?” she’d walked him right up to a man, wrapped her arms around his middle, before turning back to Hotch. “Peter, honey, this is my old friend, Aaron Hotchner! He works for the BAU.”

Husband. She has a husband. She is a beautiful woman, who he has had the honor to love, to run through the rain while laughing with, who is known and seen and loved by someone else. Hotch takes a look at her, really drinks in the sight. She’s got on a green sweater, new- he can tell by the shape of it. Earrings that seem like they’re gifts, and her hair’s pinned up lazily despite the occasion. 

She looks happy. 

“Oh hey! I’ve heard so much about you- I’m glad you were able to come!”

Peter has a wedding band on hsi left wrist, and Aaron can’t help but analyze him. He’s wearing an ill-fitting dress shirt and slacks, and Hotch thinks he might not have had too much choice in hosting. Owning real-estate is uncommon in New york, and your boss knowing you have a place to use might have been enough to strong arm him into using it. it’s a relative’s clothes, and it’s casual in a way that would suggest ease and friendless. An arm rests on the small of his wife’s waist. 

The whole rest of the night is a blur. Jealousy doesn’t feel like the right word for it- it feels uncanny, to see her so open and warm with a man who so unashamadly loves her. There’s engagement photos on the walls, and Aaron studies them like he’ll be tested. Maybe he’s testing himself. They’re not real photos, just a photobooth they’d gone too, her ring in the foreground of all of them. Peter is a wiry, thin, dark-haired brown-eyed man who is younger than Aaron, and a year older than her. 

He hears someone say they met in high school, and Hotch dimly wonders if he ever had a shot with her. He thinks this, while looking at a photo of the two of them at prom together (but not together). It’s self-comfort, he knows. Because she’d asked him, to take her seriously. 

She’s drinking grape juice, instead of champagne. Aaron thinks he knows why, from the way she runs a gentle hand over her stomach when she thinks no one’s looking, and how Peter’s eyes are always trained on her midsection.

He wishes he didn’t know how to be this observant. 

When the night ends, and Aaron comes back to Quantico, and people asks him how the party went, Aaron tells them it went well, and says that he saw an old friend who he’d missed a great deal out there. 

He figured it’s probably better to admit to loving her in some way, at some point. Even if it’s far, far too late. 

[ghxstwrites]

Christmas Lights

Pairing: Idol! Bangchan x Fem! Reader

Summary: It was yours and Christopher's first Christmas together and you just wanted to surprise him with a little early Christmas present.  

WC: 1.1K

AU: Idol!Bangchan 

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Warning(s): Dom! Bangchan, Sub! Reader, nicknames (Channie, Angel, Baby) Bondage, Fingering(Fem! Receiving), Oral (Fem! Receiving), Swearing (like one word) - PLEASURE DOM BANGCHAN *we all cheer in unison*

A/N: Better late than never? Merry Christmas and Happy New Year @pali-writes-atiny-bit !! Surprise, it was me this entire time <3 As always thank you to my beta reader @bunnliix and @cafekitsune for the banners/dividers

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society

Masterlist

6:45pm: “I can’t wait for you to get home, I've spent all day decorating and I just know you’re gonna love it!” 

6:46pm: “Oh yeah? Our first Christmas together in the new apartment and you’ve already turned it into Santa’s Workshop?”

6:47pm: “Maybe, oh! I also have one early present for you to unwrap, I put it in our room.”

Christmas is still a few weeks away but… there's a present waiting for him? In the 3 years you’d been together the two of you did activities with each other post holiday… This was new. 

It was nearing 8:00pm as he drug himself through the door, practice had utterly exhausted him. He kicked off his shoes in the entryway before he’d noticed just how “Jolly” you’d made the living space. 

The cabinets wrapped in bows like Christmas presents, the stocking you two had picked out hug below the TV and the Christmas tree all lit - wait. Chris walked over to notice the tree was up, but it wasn’t decorated? 

Whatever, he was entirely too tired from his day to worry about what the Christmas tree looked like right now, he just wanted to shower and spend some time with you. 

Upon walking into your shared bedroom, the lights were off which was another strange happening. You never go to bed this early, but before he had much time to think he looked up and saw it.

Well, you. 

Sat on your knees in the bed, the only thing you had on was a big red bow, and you’d wrapped yourself in… Christmas Lig- Oh.

Chris flips the lights on to get a better look as the present on your shared bed and as your eyes meet his, you swear they were going to roll out on the floor. 

“Merry - almost - Christmas, Channie,” you smiled ever so innocently at him.

“Y/N…,” he speaks, barely audible but his eyes visibly darken as he makes his way over to the bed. 

Your eyes follow him as he makes his way across the room, and it still takes you by surprise when you find yourself pinned to the bed as Christopher leaves open mouthed kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. 

“C-chris,” is all you can manage as your eyes flutter shut.

“Was this my early Christmas present? Me coming home to find you all wrapped up and needy?” He murmurs against your skin.

He grabs the string of lights around your wrist, using them to pin your hands above your head as a wicked smile graces his features.

“Even did all the work for me like a good girl, how thoughtful,” he chuckles darkly as his hand reaches for the soft satin fabric covering your breast. “Merry Christmas, indeed baby.” 

Chris trails soft kisses along your chest, taking your nipple in his mouth as he rolls the other between his pointer finger and thumb causing you to let out a soft moan. He smirks against the soft flesh as he pulls back, looking at your flushed face.

“What's the matter, Angel?” he coos at you in faux sympathy. 

“I hope you didn’t expect me to play nice after coming home to this, did you?” 

He stands up, noticing you’ve managed to wrap yourself quite well with the string lights he chuckles to himself, he chuckles to himself, grabbing the lights wrapped loosely around your wrist, he ties them to the slats in your headboard. 

“Hmm, should I leave you like this?” He runs his hand up your inner thigh as he speaks, “or do I give you want you so clearly want?” He taps the visible wet spot forming in your underwear, causing you to whine.

“Please…,” you weren’t even sure what you were begging for, you just knew you needed him to do something, anything. 

“Hmm? Please what?” he climbs on the bed, settling between your legs.

“Use your words, baby.” 

He reaches out, his calloused fingers circling your wetness through your underwear, causing you to squirm.  

“Please… please touch me,” you whimper out  as your head falls back against the pillows, writhing against the covers. 

“Tsk, such a cute little thing, begging for me.” He huffs out a laugh as he pulls your thin underwear to the side as he runs his finger through your wet folds. Your back arches off the bed, tugging roughly at the lights above you, as Christopher finally gives your friction where you’ve been craving it the most.

Your movements only egg him on, his movements spreading up as he watches your face contorted in pleasure. He slacks his jaw as he slips two of his rough fingers inside you, acting shocked.

“Look at you, taking my fingers so well baby,” he coos, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh, “Think you can handle more, Angel?” 

“Mhm…” 

Chris smirks at you as he inserts a third finger, scissoring you open. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your heat. 

“You’re so pretty like this, tied up and completely at my mercy.” He continues to press soft kisses to your thighs.

You feel the heat in your belly pool as your orgasm builds, your soft moans getting higher in pitch, causing the man between your legs to smirk, pulling his fingers out of you. 

“N-No! Chris!” You whine, tugging at your restraints.

“Shh, angel, I’m not done…,” he murmurs as he leans in, his tongue darting out to taste you. 

“O-oh, fuck…,” your mouth falls open in a moan, stars already dancing behind your eyelids.

He continues to lap at your folds, plunging his fingers back into your wet heat, as they work in tandem. You keep pulling at your restraints wanting nothing to tug at his hair, you look down at the dark haired man, only to be met with him staring back at you, innocently.

“I’m.. I'm close, please…,“ you plead with him, as the heat in your belly starts to rise again. 

He moans against your core as he hears the words leave your mouth, adding a third finger curling them and hitting just the right spot as he sucks at your bundle of nerves.

The band in your belly snaps, your back arching off the bed as your orgasm crashes over you with a loud moan of his name. He hums against your core as he pulls back, smiling down at you.

He kisses his way up your body, before kissing you softly, tasting yourself on him.

“You did so well, baby,” he coos as he undoes the lights from around your wrist, massaging them slightly. “You should surprise me more often after work,” he chuckles softly.  

As he helps you untangle from the string lights, he notices something off about the lights, as he holds up the end that’s meant to plug into the wall, laughing.

“I think we need new Christmas lights, Angel.”

[fandom-lover2]

So This Is Christmas

Miko brings Christmas to the base

Word Count - 2395

AN: Merry Christmas!

“Miko, what is that?”

I glanced over lazily to the Groundbridge. Bulkhead and his charge had just stepped through the swirling green marvel of science, and said Cybertronian was, for reasons I was sure we were about to discover, holding a tree.

It was comically small, held by two of his digits like a bushy toothpick. The pine, it appeared to be, still had its roots attached and was losing soil with every step the green titan took.

“A Christmas tree, duh.” Miko answered Jack, like he was an idiot.

To be fair, he often times was. But I also wouldn’t have guessed that either so.

I pulled the lolly pop from my mouth. “Why the hell did you bring it here?”

“Dudes!” Miko exclaimed, spreading her hands out and looking at us like we were the bane of her existence. “It’s Christmas! We have to get into the spirit.”

“Halloween was yesterday.” Raf answered, not looking away from the TV, he and Bumblebee deep into a new video game he got for his birthday.

“And we don’t have anything to decorate it with.” Jack added.

“It’ll be dead by Christmas.” I ended, putting the candy ball back in my mouth.

“You all suck.” Despite that, she still continued up the stairs towards us.

Bulkhead was still holding the tree, looking extremely uncomfortable as he tried to not jostle it too much.

“You can put it down Bulk.” I gestured to a spot in the corner of the base, getting comfortable in my seat again.

“What is wrong with you?” Miko started, marching over to us humans. “It’s gonna be Christmas soon. We gotta get this place ready.”

“For who, Santa?” Jack teased, and Raf snickered. I rolled my eyes at them, looking down at my book again.

“Miko, Raf is flying to Mexico for Christmas, Jack’s mom has the day off and I’m going to Texas. No one is gonna be here to celebrate with-”

I cut myself off, the realization slapping me in the face.

Miko was alone for Christmas. Yes, sure she had her host parents, but they weren’t family. I didn’t even know if they celebrated the holiday. They definitely wouldn’t let her pull a 10 foot tree from Canada and stick it in the living room.

I didn’t know what the Japanese traditions for Christmas were, but I understood the seasonal depression that came with this time of year, especially when you were away from family for it. Even in sunny Nevada, it had nothing to do with the weather bringing down people’s moods.

We were her family. And Primus help us all, we would support her.

Snapping my book shut, I stood up with an unnecessary grunt and placed my half sucked lolly pop back in it’s wrapper. “Alright Meeks, you’re right. It’s gonna be Christmas soon and this place is huge. We gotta get started somewhere.”

I wouldn’t trade anything for the memory of how her eyes lit up.

“Why are you on board?” Jack questioned, side eyeing me as if I’d grown a second head.

“Because I’m not The Grinch.” I shot back, beginning down the stairs behind Miko.

It took about an hour and back-up from Bulkhead but we finally had the tree somewhat standing off to the side of the base, its roots messily sawn off and balancing inside an old empty energon cube, desert sand keeping it lopsidedly upright.

“We’ll have to get some ornaments.” I said, taking a couple steps back to size up the challenge.

“Can I make some?” Miko pleaded.

I shrugged, “Do whatever you want.”

“I don’t think I have enough at my house to cover the whole tree.” Jack chimed in, coming to stand beside us.

“Nice of you to join us after the work is done.” I mumbled to him. “I can bring some from my place to. We don’t decorate anymore.”

“I’m sure I can find some too.” Raf spoke up, having walked with Jack.

The four of us stood, admiring our bare tree when Optimus and Ratchet walked into the main area, both deep in conversation as they read over the data pads in their servos.

“What is that?” Ratchet quired, stopping abruptly.

“Christmas tree.” Raf answered.

“Naked Christmas tree.” Jack added.

“And why is in here?” The medic asked, the disgust dripping from his tone. I could imagine the lecture incoming.

“These humans have no respect, turning this base into a junk yard with all their scrap and human nonsense!”

Had to hand it to Optimus, he did a pretty good job of handling the grumpy bot most days. But once this tree started losing pine needles everywhere, not even he would be able to get Ratchet to chill.

“We’re trying to get into the Christmas spirit.” I supplied.

“What’s Christmas?” Arcee asked, having just emerged from the tunnels as well, having been on inventory duty this morning.

“An old fat guy dressed in red breaks into your house and leaves presents or coal, depending on if you’ve been good or bad.” Jack helpfully explained.

The look of horror on each bot’s face was pure comedy and I was sad I didn’t been filming it.

“And that tree allows him to break in?” Bulkhead questioned.

“Kinda. It tells him we want him to.” Raf pushed his glasses on his nose up again.

“Why would you want him to break in?” We’d finally done it. We had Ratchet questioning our sanity for real.

“Duh! Presents!” Miko smirked at the medic, and I briefly wondered if I’d need to warn her to duck.

I glanced over to Optimus and he was visibly going through a crisis. I guess confessing that we were trying to get someone to break into his super secure base would do that to a team leader.

“We’re just kidding.” I decided to finally intercept. “It’s not real. Those are just stories based on an old legend. Really, we decorate a tree and then exchange gifts. It’s just a time to spend with family and friends, to prepare for winter and bring some joy before the hard months ahead.”

This seemed to relax the bots a bit.

Bumblebee spoke, though I did not understand him.

“Right Bee, it’s just a story. Santa won’t actually break in.” Raf answered the scout.

“Why would you have such a story then?” Ratchet snapped, moving to his work station.

“Human nonsense” was pissing him off again. He should expect this stuff from us by now. Just trying to get through Halloween last week had been a mission. You’d think for his own sanity he’d just accept humans were weird.

“Tradition. Legends. Something to keep the magic alive and keep kids full of wonder and innocence.”

To humans, those notions made sense. To him, it was just a cruel trick of sugarcoating the hard truths because the adults didn’t have the guts to tell it how it was.

“It’s a waste of time.” he grumbled, turning his focus onto his consol.

“We haven’t even begun…”

Jack’s warning had him turning back to us with a raised brow.

------

“Y/n.”

I hummed in reply to Optimus, continuing to look out his passenger side window at the desert night rolling past. Optimus was decided he’d drive me home tonight, rather than me catching a ride with one of the others like usual.

“Are you certain that this… tree will not invite anyone to attempt to enter the base?” The Autobot leader questioned, sounding unsure of himself as he asked this.

I fought the smile, turning in my seat to look at his rearview mirror, which he turned towards me as his way of ‘looking’ at me in this form.

“I promise you Optimus. The tree is just a tradition. Nothing and no one is going to be invited by a lit up tree and try to get in.”

“If you are sure.” The Prime replied.

It was silent for a few more minutes, but I could feel Optimus burning to question me on it.

“Many cultures have different origins of Christmas, how it started, what it means. For the most part nowadays it’s just a holiday where people eat good food with friends and family and exchange gifts as a form of expressing gratitude for the love and support shown during the year. The decorating is just part of the deal, getting everyone in the mood to celebrate.”

I could feel Optimus thinking over what I’d said, making it make sense in his mind as he turned what I’d said into Cybertronian terms and trying to match it to any customs he’d had on his home planet. Apparently he came up empty because he didn’t mention any.

“So, Christmas is a time of leisure?” he questioned finally, summarizing what I’d said.

“Yes. A time to relax and look back at the year passed. One final big holiday to give us a push to make it to the end of year before we begin the new one in January.”

Optimus was quiet for a while, only the steady rumble of his engine and his tires rolling across the road to let me know he was still awake.

“Can you describe more about Christmas?” he finally asked.

Still a data clerk at heart, I smiled.

I began telling Optimus all I knew, what traditions from different cultures I could remember, how my family did the holiday as opposed to other families I’d heard of. I chose to not comment when I noticed Optimus was taking the long long way to my house, wanting me to keep talking as long as possible. I would have stayed up all night talking to him if that’s what he wanted.

Finally, after he’d spent an hour aimlessly driving through town, he pulled to a stop at my house.

“And that’s Christmas.” I ended, taking a deep breath.

Optimus remained quiet for a few moments, then released a deep hum, as if I’d dropped some deep wisdom on him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry too much about it.” I leaned over and opened his door, preparing to jump down. “It’s still almost two months away.”

“Plenty of time for Miko to cause all kinds of trouble.”

My laughter echoed down the street as my feet hit the side walk. “Goodnight, Optimus.”

“Goodnight, Little One.”

------

“Merry Christmas!” the four of us cheered, all pulling at the same time.

Four snaps, and four Christmas crackers popped open. We all laughed, opening up our obnoxiously colored cardboard cylinders. We put on the tacky crowns, Raf removing his Santa hat and Miko taking off her antler headband. Jack was wearing tacky plastic glasses with little Santa hats on them. I had an elf’s hat on, and took it off in favor of the crown.

We each wore knitted Christmas sweaters, hand made as a gift from Raf’s mom for ‘his good friends’.

All around us, the base looked like Rudolph threw up. Lights, streamers, tinsel and garland. Who knew Agent Fowler was such a Christmas fanatic?

After he found out about the tree, he’d dropped off crates of supplies. It’d taken hours, and I thought at one point Ratchet might actually act on his threats of violence, but in the end the base was nicely illuminated for the holiday.

Our tree was, to my surprise, still alive and now on the catwalks, lit up and with a crudely drawn (curtesy of Miko) Starscream as the tree topper.

Four different households, plus the military contribution, made up the ornaments. It looked good, if you liked complete and utter chaos. But it had been a fun day decorating it. Optimus had even helped hang a ball or two, lifting Miko so she could place her Star(scream).

Now, the last weekend we had together before Raf and I were set to fly Tuesday, we were having a sleepover and having an early Christmas.

We each took a turn to read the bad jokes, trying not to laugh at how bad they were. Then, we moved on to the games that came with them. And then, dinner.

Mrs. Esquivel and Nurse Darby had provided most of the meal, both happy to contribute to our good time. Agent Fowler had stopped by earlier today to play Santa (yes, he wore the red suit and fake beard and everything. Bulkhead almost swung at the poor guy. Apparently, he’d been having nightmares about Santa coming into the base and leaving coal at his berthroom door) and dropped off enough desserts and treats to last us a lifetime.

The meal was accompanied by laughter, and shared stories of previous failed Christmas stories from different families. The bots stood around, some actually paying attention and asking questions, one pretending he wasn’t.

And finally, to the gift exchange. Somehow, all four of us had gotten stuff for the bots, without actually discussing whether or not we would. Most of them were impractical, and useless (why would Ratchet even want an air freshener Miko?) but they nonetheless showed appreciation, and actually seemed to really enjoy the gifts. Optimus in particular seemed pleased with the mythology and holiday traditions book I got him, questioning when we could begin reading it together.

Miko had gotten Bulk a new CD for their favorite band so they could rock out together. Jack got new, better helmet, so he and Arcee could “go faster”, like they didn’t already. Raf got Bee a poster of a video game they both played often.

The gifts us humans got for each other were stupid, nothing of value or anything we could actually use, but it was fun and they became prized possessions.

After hours of screwing around with our new gifts and playing some Christmas games, I made the popcorn while Jack got the lights and we all cuddled under the blankets, settling in for Home Alone with all the bots seated behind us and invested in the movie.

Slowly, one by one, everyone began to drift off or sneak away to their berthrooms. I could feel the pull of sleep and shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable with Jack on my left shoulder and Raf’s head in my lap.

Then, a gentle servo reached over and caressed my forehead. “Sleep, Little One.”

I looked over to my guardian, a dopey grin on my face. “Goodnight Optimus. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”  

[gotta-winwin]

(☎️) ... merry christmas, please don't call - teaser

⭐ starring: seungcheol

☎️ preview: The toughest part about loving Seungcheol was the fact that he didn’t know himself at all. And how does one truly love a ghost? 

based on the song Merry Christmas, Please Don't Call by Bleachers

“But you should know that I died slow Running through the halls of your haunted home And the toughest part is that we both know What to happened to you Why you're out on your own Merry Christmas, please don't call”

tw/cw: heavy angst + smut, not a happy ending, tortured lovers, coups is an asshole but he doesn't mean to, idol!seungcheol x nonidol!reader, talk of leader responsibilities more in depth warnings will be posted with the full fic

🐻‍❄️ release date: new years eve

🪽fic rating: 18+ | teaser rating: no smut

☁️ masterlist & a/n: this heavy angst christmas fic is to combat the insane amount of fluff in the vernon christmas special (ᵕ—ᴗ—) it's also very self indulgent angst + smut with coups.

"Oh, golden boy, don't act like you were kind"

He was inevitable in the end. Like some invisible string connected the two of you together. Not the pretty, dainty kind of invisible string. Whatever held your lives together was made of barbed wire. Whatever line wrapped around your ribs, restricting your breathing, tying you to him was nothing pretty. It was what army men used in wars. 

You can’t hate your best friend, even if they end up hurting you. You just can’t.

“Come back to bed.” You whisper in the dark as you watch his dark silhouette get up. The clock on his nightstand was barely legible. 

You could hear him throwing a shirt on. “I’ve got to go.”

You open your mouth to ask him again, but the words die in your mouth. A couple days ago you would’ve begged, but the bubbling hatred in you pushed the words down your esophagus, momentarily choking you. Seungcheol noticed your silence. 

“I’ll be back before sunrise.” He leans over the bed and kisses your cheek, brushing a stray hair from it. “Don’t be mad.”

You shake your head in the dark. “I’m not mad.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

That was just how the world spun. You, lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling you used to trace constellations on together. Sheets that smelled like him - aftershave and candles. Pleading words sewn shut in your mouth, hidden in your lungs, suffocating you. As you sank back into sleep, drowning under everything you’ve ever wanted to tell him. You knew it wasn’t his fault. After all - he barely knew who he was, hidden under all his responsibilities and his job title, he was barely a semblance of a man - tugged and stitched together. 

It barely registered in your mind that tomorrow would be Christmas Eve. Part of you knew he wouldn’t be there to celebrate anyways.

[gothghostiie]

In the spirit of Christmas approaching, and as someone who prefers making gifts to buying them (for many reasons, the main two being that I love making things and forcing ppl to look at them and that I’m fuckin broke lmao), how do u think the 141 lads would react to receiving a gift from their spouse that was made by them? Like a drawing, something they knitted/stitched, or even a sculpture?

using this as my merry Christmas post so

merry Christmas and happy holidays yall<3 I hope ur having a great time and enjoying urself, sending much much love, mwah <3

cw: fluff, gn!reader + bonus what they would gift you

Price is a sucker for that stuff. handknit sweater? he'll wear that thing until it's barely more than a thread. nothing more cozy than something someone handmade with love specifically for him, nothing will ever be as comfy. that goes for anything handmade, he'll treasure it until he can't. nothing makes him feel more loved than anything handmade. hes has a hard time gifting things usually and will flat out ask and get what you asked for, but also add some stuff that he thought you might like. huge fan of practical gifts.

Gaz absolutely adores anything you make yourself, especially decorative items. paintings, stitching, sculptures, little trinkets, adores all of it with his whole heart. will keep everything with him, everything around the house/apartment. and he notices is somethings missing too, absolutely upset until he finds it again. he immediately finds a place for whatever you gave to him. kyle isnt really the one to gift materialistic things (sure, you get some jewelry or those new headphones you wanted) but he always gifts creative dates that he takes you on.

Soap is also a sucker for anything handmade. is a huge, huge fan of handmaking presents himself (he mostly draws, will 100% gift you a drawing too) and loves receiving them just as much. your skill level doesn't matter one bit, whether it be a patchy painting, a wonky mug or a sweater with holes, he'll proudly wear/display it and make sure you know just how much he loves it. as I said, you'll get a drawing - probably a portrait he secretly drew of you while you were doing the most mundane shit ever and he couldn't help but think you're gorgeous.

ghost is a secret christmas lover imo. colourful lights, christmas tree, sinple deco. he doesn't really want/ask for gifts, tells people there's nothing he wants when they ask. but listen: handmake him a balaclava. that man will propose to you on the spot. I'm so serious. appreciates any gifts he gets, especially handmade, keeps saying you shouldn't have, but that will make him fall hard. hes the type of guy where you think youll get a gift card at best, but you get almost anything you wanted but didnt get over the year. that cute mug? that sweater? those earrings? all yours, he remebered.

[desideriumwriter]

Anyone But You | Chapter 15

Summary: You decide to pretend that nothing happened the last day you stayed at the burrow, have an awkward conversation with Fred, and hear some bothersome rumors.

WC: 1.7k

A/N: another shortie! but this next chapter is gonna be messyyyyyy so lock in, also merry (late) christmas!

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You left the night you kissed Fred. Deciding it would be the best to run away from the awkward tension for now. 

You could at least prepare for the tension that would be there when you got back to school.

Though you tried your best to prepare. You still weren’t ready.

On the express back to Hogwarts, you sat with Angelina and Katie. Angelina left a few times to go see George.

You did your best to act like nothing had happened between Fred and you. Pretending like you never cried to him, again, slept in his bed, cuddled him, and kissed him.

Trying to convince yourself none of that happened. You planned to do this for the rest of your time at school. Maybe your entire life too.

You avoided any possible subject that would lead to bringing up the twins. 

You laid down on your seat in your booth anytime the memories became too much, you slept most of the ride to avoid them.

The Start-Of-Term Feast wasn’t too awkward as you expected. 

Of course, Angelina wanted to sit by George, her new boyfriend. Katie and you followed along and sat with the twins.

Surprisingly, you were able to make conversation with the both of them. Fred especially.

It seemed he had the same plan as you, to pretend like nothing happened between you too during Spring break.

Nothing happened. No crying in his arms, no snuggling in bed, no close moments in the kitchen, no kissing.

That was the plan for the both of you. But it showed you were both still thinking of those moments through the quick glances and looks you shared with each other.

Katie nor Angelina had caught any of them, or at least hopefully they hadn’t. You just really wanted to get back to your dorm and away from all this tension.

The rest of the first years that were chattering in the corner went up to their dorms. Leaving the only remaining people in the common room being Fred and you.

Fred was on the sofa, sketching something on a piece of parchment, his face extremely focused, the tip of his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth. It was kind of cute.

You were sitting on the chair opposite from the red leather sofa. Feet sitting on the cushion beneath you, reading a book that was laid against your knees. You weren’t tired yet, but you hoped this would make you sleepy.

Yet, you couldn’t stop looking over at Fred. Not being able to focus on the words on the pages for more than a minute at most, your eyes kept darting up to the redhead across from you.

This time, you were the first to speak.

“Already working on a new shop idea?” You half-joked from behind your legs. Fred looked away from the paper.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Just updating one of the firework ideas we had.” You hummed and nodded in response, looking back to your book.

“So, how was the rest of your break?” Fred spoke, going back to sketching.

“It was good. Fine. Yours?”

“Mine was good too.” Fred nodded. You wanted to scream, you were cringing in your skin at the amount of awkwardness between the two of you. 

You’d rather go back to him pissing you off than to deal with whatever this was for another minute.

You put your book down before blurting out your next few words.

“I…I missed you.” There’s no way those words just came out of your mouth. Your last year self would be gagging at the sight of this.

The sound of Fred’s quill scratching the paper ceased.

In your peripheral, you could see Fred look at you. Most likely some confused and surprised look on his face. 

You didn’t dare look at him, your eyes focused on fluttering flames from the fireplace.

“Yeah. I missed you too.” Fred took a minute before he spoke.

“I like you, Fred. More than I care to admit.“ Your eyes went wide at your sudden confession, wondering what the hell was making you say all this. 

“Oh. That’s…nice to hear.” Fred breathed out.

“I’ve been stopping myself from saying that for a while.” You let out a scoff of disbelief, looking down at your hands in your lap. 

The cogs were turning in Fred’s head, trying to figure out how to respond. You were unpredictable now that he wasn’t getting on your nerves, this was a struggle.

“What’s been stopping you?”

You opened your mouth and hesitated, then closed it. Waiting a moment before attempting to speak again.

“I don’t know. I think I’m just afraid.” You fiddled with your fingers.

 “Of what?” Fred pressed, you wished he wouldn't. You wished you never said anything at all.

“Of liking you too much.” There was a bigger word you could’ve used there instead of “like”, you were afraid to say that one too. 

You were denying that you felt that strongly.

“What’s so bad about that?” Fred shrugged, you hesitated to speak.

“I don’t know. It just feels…wrong.” You scratched at your arm. 

“Nothing wrong with someone being likable. You’re likable, surprisingly.” He teased, it earned a breathy chuckle out of you.

“Look at us, being friends and all nice to each other. After all the times I’ve been an asshole to you.” You let out a guilty smile as you finally looked up at him.

"I’ve never cared about any of that. I'm just glad we're not at each other's throats any more.” Fred shrugged, giving you such a heartwarming smile as he began to gather his things.

God, why was he so sweet? Why was he so sweet to you, out of all people?

“I also realized I never said thank you for…everything really. Getting me out of the crowd during the attack, the gifts, inviting me over.” You rubbed your hands down your face, the realization and guilt eating you alive.

“Thank you. For being so nice to me, I really don’t think I deserved any of it after how I’ve treated you.” You let out a nervous laugh, not finding anything amusing, just nervous as hell.

“Maybe, I think you’re just too pretty for me to be mean to. Goodnight, Y/N.” Fred said as he stood up, leaving the room and going up to his dorm before you could even fully process what he just said.

You guess your impulsive confession led to one from him as well.

You really tried not to be stuck on Fred’s words for the rest of the night, or next few days. He called you pretty. It made your chest tighten.

Things moved on normally, Fred and you were good enough at acting as if nothing happened between you to the point where it felt like nothing actually did. Though deep down, you both still could remember what your lips fell like pressed together.

Katie and Angelina, nor George or Lee ever caught on to those occasional glances. Actually, you wondered if George was ever told about it. George and him are twin brothers, of course they tell each other everything. He definitely knew.

You tried not to dwell on the thought of that as well.

You and Fred carried on with the act, talking to each other as if that secret yearning didn’t return in both your chests.

Later on, you started to believe Fred was moving on, or had moved on. His eyes didn’t linger on your face for too long anymore, he didn’t shoot those glances with a certain emotion behind them, maybe he’d just gotten good at pretending. Maybe he had moved on. Deep down, you really hoped it wasn’t the second possibility, you’d never admit that though.

Maybe Katie and Angelina not catching on wasn’t the best thing. 

Sure, they were already suspicious of your true feelings about Fred. But as of now, they had no idea that anything more than sharing a bed had happened.

Angelina and Katie walked together into your shared dorm, coming back from Quidditch practice tired, Angelina falling onto her bed as Katie was next to her, leaning on the nightstand. They greeted you and you looked up from your hunched over position above your textbook, seeing the lingering smirks on both girls' faces.

“Hey, what’s with the look?” You smiled and let out a confused laugh.

“I heard that Alicia has her eyes on someone.” Angelina sang, crossing her legs lazily over each other on her bed.

“Spinnet? No way, who?” You sat up straight, excited to hear gossip.

“Freddie Weasley.” Angelina grimaced, as if it pained her to say it. There was a strange twist in your stomach. 

This was probably another quip to try and get them to prove you had feelings for Fred, they wanted to see you jealous and then use it as evidence of you liking him.

“He’s definitely been eyeing her back too.” Katie whispered, as if she’d get caught saying it at a normal volume. There was a strange twist in your stomach. You made an unbothered face, playing it off.

“Fred can have his eyes for anyone he wants, it’s none of my concern.” You shrugged. Trying to ignore the feeling of a pit growing into your stomach.

“They were all over each other today. They’ve definitely got something going on.” Angelina let out a giggle, but then it faded when she caught your excited smile falter and go away, you swallowed and looked back down at your book.

“Leanne swore she saw them kissing in the-“ Katie was cut off by Angelina’s elbow hitting her in her side, Angelina widened her eyes at her for a second. Katie got the memo.

“That’s just a rumor though. She was probably just being dramatic, you know how she can be.” Katie let out a fake cough.

“It’s fine, really, I don’t care. Plus I don’t want the image of Fred shoving his tongue down a girl's throat. Or really the image of anybody doing that.” You scoffed, closing your textbook.

You hated that you cared. That you wanted to know if there was really something going on between Fred and Alicia.

You despised that twisting feeling in your stomach when you saw them talking in the hall. The way it twisted more when Alicia grazed her hand down his arm.

You were excited when Lee invited you to a party at his house that following weekend. Knowing that Katie and Angelina were going with made you comfortable.

It felt as if all that excitement was all wiped away when you heard Alicia ask Fred:

“You’re going to Lee's party this Saturday, right?”

tell me what you thought here! <3 or ask tba to the taglist for this series!

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[nekomasmngr]

a love to keep me warm

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ kageyama tobio x fem!reader ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

✦ synopsis : you find yourself stuck in the last place you wanted to be for Christmas and think it’s better to hole yourself up in your dorm, throwing your own pity party for the holiday. turns out, kageyama tobio was the plot twist in your lonely holiday that you needed. ⋆⁺₊❅.

✦ contents : smidge of angst but happy ending, cursing (right at the beginning), little awkward tobio with a crush, maybe some very cheesy writing of loser/s falling in love — WC : 4k

✦ author notes : written for @hiraethwrote, merry merry christmas, hea!! i hope you're enjoying your holidays so far!! and im so so sorry this was a tad bit late, (although at the moment, it's still the 29th somewhere in the world <3); in collaboration with “hq x reader secret santa” hosted by the amazing, wonderful, inspiring @lale-txt; i really enjoyed participating in this and loved being around/part of a community of more x reader lovers, thank you for making this last quarter of the year feel a little less lonelier than usual, so by extension, this piece is also dedicated to anyone who found themselves feeling lonely this year, but shouldn't be. i see you and am sending all the virtual hugs, love, and care to you. i wish only for this new year will treat you better and bring people who deserve your energy to stick by your side until the next christmas. <3 p.s. this was barelllyyyy proofread so i apologize for the grammar mistakes, run on sentences, and probably cringy dialogue? i feel really rusty in writing but this definitely inspired me to keep practicing and i enjoyed spinning this tale <3

✦ christmas lights header by @nectardaddy, tysm!! u rockkk <3

“What the fuck?”

At this point, you couldn’t keep count of the number of times this has happened. The glowing LED screen that featured a picturesque sight of one of your so-called closest friends dressed in a flowy, white dress, running away from the incoming crash of the wave, smiling brightly off camera, right at a bunch of other no-names you’ve never met (probably her high school friends). Your eyes start to burn as you swipe through the rest of the pictures in the carousel of continuous shots of these people at the beach. 

You vividly recalled how this friend of yours was so adamant on cancelling your holiday plans two weeks ago because she came down with the “flu”, despite having scheduled them 2 months before. You knew it was a weak excuse.

Who even cancels plans because of a flu 2 weeks before an event?

You scoffed bitterly as you stalk the other girls from the profile to see when exactly they took this little beach trip of theirs, trying to understand why your friend canceled on your holiday plans but said yes to other people’s plans. 

But the longer you scrolled, the longer you became sick to your stomach. You were sick of this behavior. Sick of being alone. Of being lonely.

The efforts you put into saving up for your girls’ trip with her, pulling in extra late night shifts at work and on weekends. You even rescheduled your trip back home, so you were stuck over this weekend on campus thinking you were supposed to be packing for your road trip with her that very same weekend.

 If your “closest” friend didn’t want to spend the holidays with you, then who actually would?  

You didn’t even realize you were crying until continuous drops of tears fell on your screen, blurring not only your own sight, but distorting the smiles from another beach photo of the sunset backdrop, droplets blending in with the waves on screen as if giving you a taste of its salty waters. 

“You alright?” 

A deep voice startled you from your intense gaze with your phone. You quickly wiped whatever stray tears were still caught in your lashes, hoping the streaks down your face were unnoticeable under the fluorescent lights of the study hall. 

It was one of the most deserted places at the moment with students having wrapped up most of their exams before the winter break started, save for a few who had one nasty paper to submit that evening or who chose to stay for the break, like you. 

Packing up your things as fast as you can, you muttered a quick “just fine,” before catching the gaze of the concerned party that belonged to the most beautiful shade of dark blue eyes that almost made you stop in your stance to see what kind shade of blue they truly were.

⋅˚₊‧ ��� ‧₊˚ ⋅

You checked yourself in your reflection of the metal doors of the elevator of your dorm, making sure traces of your snot nose and red eyes were unnoticeable. You didn’t want to scare the convenience store people at your disheveled state, but you figured they’ve seen worse looking people than someone who just spent a couple of hours crying their eyes till their puffy and dehydrated, dull skin. 

As you walked down to grab some snacks and stock up on some milk and soda, you could tell that the holiday spirit fell short this year. Sure, there were the customary string of Christmas lights and wreaths lined up on your university walls. But outside them, among the people, you can’t help but reflect on how quickly people grow up, get wrapped up in their own drama and business, and change priorities; forgetting to spend time with the people who were actually part of your year.

But what’s new? You were disappointed in your friend, but couldn’t help but blame yourself. You must have done something to her that made her cancel, or maybe you just weren’t as important to her as she was to you.

The familiar sting of tears grew in your eyes and you definitely didn’t want to cry in the middle of the nearest campus convenience store. So you just shook it off, pushed your “friend” and all of your problems with the current state of the holidays to the back of your mind, and focused on your main mission: feeding yourself.

 Not bothering to grab a basket, you filled your arms with your favorite snacks, cup noodles as is customary in every college student’s grocery list. The last thing you needed was your favorite brand of milk from the store’s fridge. What you didn’t see was another hand reaching out for the same carton you wanted. 

“Sorry.” you mumbled, reaching for a second box of milk right behind the first one you were supposed to get. 

“Are you okay?” 

You were startled at the sudden question from this stranger. Was it always normal to make conversation in a convenience store? You lifted your head to properly face your embarrassment.

At this point, you wished you just brushed off this growing awkward interaction and chopped it before it swallowed you whole, as you realized that the beautiful stranger standing in front of you was in fact, Tobio Kageyama. 

The same Tobio Kageyama who's the most active volleyball varsity player in your university. The same Tobio Kageyama who’s been the youngest recruited player for the Japan national volleyball team, participating in the Olympics at 19 years old. The same Tobio Kageyama who’s the same blueberry-eyed guy that definitely saw you crying your eyes out over your phone. 

“I saw you earlier at the study hall.” He almost whispered as if he was afraid to be spilling a dark secret.

You averted your gaze suddenly to check your reflection again on the metal frames of the frozen goods door you were both standing in front of, traces of red eyes gone, but the puffy skin was still there. 

“Sorry, I asked…” He started slowly.

“No! It’s okay.” You quickly answered, not wanting him to actually confirm your embarrassment of being known as the kind of girl that cries at school. “To answer your question…at the time, I wasn’t.”

You sighed thinking you didn’t have the energy to make up an excuse for what he saw, “Now I’m kinda just tired.”

“Right.” He nodded and mumbled. “Me too.”

“Not from crying!” He quickly sputtered out and added, “But from training…and studying?”

You stifled a laugh at his quick save. You don’t recall him ever seeing him stay in the study hall for anything longer than 15 minutes, unless he was seated at a table with a smaller orange haired student that looked way too bright to be in the dreary hall of learning, and an even shorter yellow-haired girl, Yachi, who you recognized from some of your classes. 

He cleared his throat as well as his nerves. “Winter break is coming up.” 

“Got any plans?” Kageyama asked, wanting to keep talking to you. 

“As of earlier, no.” You shrugged off the urge to make something up. 

“Campus is the last place I want to be in right now, but I’m stuck here until maybe after Christmas.” You admitted. 

Kageyama nodded at your honesty. “How bout you?” You asked in turn, continuing the conversation even if you don’t know where it’s going, but this surprising plot twist in your evening felt right. It felt good to speak to someone new. 

As the student-athlete listed down his training plans (read as: holiday break plans), you caught a beautiful sparkle in his eyes that shined brighter as he talked more about his favorite sport and how it isn’t just “training” for him as a student athlete. 

“But I could do something else for the break.” He mumbled as he realized how he was probably boring you with his volleyball tips, but Kageyama’s heart did a little flip as he saw how attentive your soft  gaze was actually focusing on him and how good it felt to be heard.

“Well, good luck with that.” You visibly cringed at how immediately rude that came across, contradicting how warm you felt as he shared his plans. You mentally kicked yourself for your lack of tact and how horrible you were at making friends, let alone maintain your current friendships enough.

You tried to wrack your brain for a better opening to apologize, or possibly offer something else to say to the athlete as you both lined up behind the counter ready to pay for your snacks.

“Would you want to do something?” 

Kageyama’s question brought you out of your marathon of overthinking as you were caught off guard with his sudden invitation. 

“With me?” He added. “For Christmas!”

You blinked in confusion as he stammered out a proposal, but you were patient as he sighed and closed his eyes in embarrassment. 

“Would you want to do something with me for Christmas?”

Any traces of awkwardness left as the air around the two of you suddenly felt cleaner as the cold winter wind bit your cheeks and nose, almost kissing away your puffy eyes. Your heart burned once again, but it wasn’t the painful kind of burn. It was warm and hot that spread rapidly to your numbing fingertips.

“What did you have in mind?” You asked, giving him an encouraging smile. 

He finally opened his eyes in surprise. That wasn’t a no! “I…can get back to you on that.” Caught off guard with your acceptance, but nonetheless, the athlete restrained himself from giving a victory fist bump at this good sign.

“Sure.” You smiled, thinking that you didn’t have anything else to lose and you definitely had nowhere to go this weekend. You were definitely intrigued and excited at where this new little adventure can take you.

“Yes?” 

“Yes, Tobio.” You laughed, turning back to  

Tobio’s grip on his plastic bag tightened at the sound of his name coming out of your lips. Now his stomach was really doing backflips. 

“C-can I get your number?” He asked, eager to not let this opportunity slip through his hands. “So I can get back to you for our…um, thing.”

Without realizing it, you’ve both stopped in front of the entrance of your dorm as you both exchanged numbers. 

“Have a good night.” You bid your goodbye as you walked inside your dorm entrance.

“You too.” Kageyama whispered, not even caring if you didn’t hear it as his eyes were stuck in a daze at your retreating figure as it disappeared behind the east wall, but not without glancing back at him with a small smile that struck right in his heart that hit him all the way back to his own dorm building, where Hinata, Yachi, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima were all hunched over their board game. 

He plopped his plastic bag of snacks and drinks, ignoring all of Hinata and Tsukishima’s jabs at his tardiness for his long walk back from the store with you was worth all the teasing. 

“Yachi!” He startled his old manager at his sudden outburst.

“What do girls like to do on Christmas?”

Not only did the group erupt with a whole new level of freak out at the surprise of Kageyama’s sudden “thing” with someone who didn’t go to high school with them, but they also learned that it IS possible to get kicked out of the lounge area of the campus dorms for an unacceptable level of “chatter”.

⋅˚₊‧ 𖥸 ‧₊˚ ⋅

To say you were quite impressed at how festive and cozy a dorm room could look like, excitement started to spread through you as noted all the multicolored lights that hung around his room, a mini Christmas tree on the side of his study table with a few cut out snowflakes spread out on the walls,  and the 2 sets of bare gingerbread material laid expectantly for you and your Christmas date for the evening.

Decorating gingerbread houses was something you never knew you’d enjoy. You’ve always wanted to do a little Christmas activity, but just never got around doing it because every time you offered, your friends either thought it was lame or too kiddie for your age, or like always, they just cancelled. 

You didn’t need them anyway. Kageyama was a delightful Christmas date, very gentlemanly and very conscious. Always making sure you felt right at home in his room, it was nice to feel taken care of even if it was just for the evening.

Humming along softly to the jazzy Christmas music playing in the background, your concentration lining up your candies for your house was interrupted with a pssk!

Kageyama squeezed a bit too hard on his piping bag and missed the roof of his house, landing a splat of sweet red icing on your cheek 

“I’m so sorry!” As he frantically looked through his desk for spare napkins that Yachi left inside the Christmas-Special-Gift-Basket that his friends helped assemble for him, to ensure he had everything he needed for your “thing”.

“It’s okay!” You giggled, wiping off the last of it with your finger and giving it a small lick. “Least now I know it’ll taste good.”

“I’m sure you do.”

Your eyebrows raised, mouth gaping in a small amused smile waiting for Kageyama to realize what he just said and what he’s implying.

“IT!” Kageyama’s eyes widened in shock. “I really, really meant to say IT.” 

The nervous volleyball player couldn’t help but groan and lay his head on the table contemplating to just start eating his gingerbread house to remove all evidence of this embarrassment, or run to the gym to yell and shout at his idiocy, or even curse at Hinata just because it was a reflex for him at this point. He could do either of these, but he prepared himself as he turned his head towards you, expecting to see cringe all over your face. 

And then suddenly, Kageyama forgot his urge to run away. Instead he wanted to stay in this very picturesque moment forever, with your bright smile that feels so at home among the warm holiday decorations that decorated his dorm, with your infectious laughter bouncing around the walls and through his heart, with your smile holding such child-like wonder and joy. 

Yes, Kageyama decided he can slip up as many times as needed, if only he gets to stay around your radiant smile all the time.

“I didn’t think you’d be so forward!” You praised him.

 “Just don’t bring it up again.” He grumbled, fighting the shy smile growing on his face.

“Alright, alright.” You chuckled. “If you get icing on me again, feel free to lick them off of me yourself so you can get a taste too.” 

“Shut up.” He winced thinking that was too mean, but he took a peek back at you with a smile that didn’t feel like leaving your face as you turned back to placing different colored M&Ms on your icing coated gingerbread roof.

⋅˚₊‧ 𖥸 ‧₊˚ ⋅

“I really like yours.” As you gestured to his simple white icing covered house with red and green candies scattered on the roof, but intriguingly had a very detailed mini-volleyball net (which isn’t holding up so well) and accurate lines for a court with a matching yellow and blue “volleyball” which is really just a yellow M&M covered in blue icing. 

“The court’s definitely my favorite part.” 

“Me too.” He nodded, smiling brightly at his little mini safe space of his favorite sport.

“So cute.” You whispered, catching that gleam in his eyes again that you wished you could see longer. 

The festivities didn’t stop there as you found yourself next to Kageyama, sitting almost shoulder to shoulder on his dorm bed, with his laptop propped up on a few pillows playing the opening credits to the holiday classic, Home Alone. Was it too on the nose? You couldn't tell, but you definitely pondered on it more as the movie went on.

Halfway through the movie, Kageyama couldn’t resist taking a peek at you. Eyes pointed straight at the TV, but they looked almost glassy and unfocused as if your mind was elsewhere at that moment. “Are you okay?”

“Sorry,” You shook your head to bring yourself back to the present. “I think I’m just tired.” Feeling embarrassed that you got caught while lost in thought. You hoped Kageyama didn’t think you were bored, so you took it as a sign to start some idle conversation, starting with the one question you were currently curious about your new found friend. 

“I never got to ask this earlier,” You thought over carefully on your next words. 

“Why didn’t you go home for the holidays, like your friends did?”

He shrugged as he revealed bluntly, “my parents aren’t around much.” He goes on about how they’ve been on more frequent business trips abroad since his high school days, not even showing up to his matches when his team played in national tournaments.

The whole time you couldn’t believe how these supposedly important people in a person’s life could easily miss out on Kageyama’s life like that. He’s clearly very passionate about volleyball and no one can deny his talent and skill for it. Your chest tightened at the pain of imagining a younger Kageyama getting ready for his match, but with a quick scan at the crowd, he'd easily notice the absence of his parents and sister in the crowd.

“And my sister’s spending this Christmas with some friends on a girls’ trip or something.” 

“Must be nice for them to not be alone on Christmas.” Your bitter tone slipped. You frowned as you munched your popcorn, trying hard not to take out your frustration on the snack bowl.

If Kageyama picked up that tone in your voice, he didn’t show it. “We’re not alone either. Not anymore.” He said, words dripping with sincerity as it hung in the air of the small dorm room. 

He was right. Some could probably say it was a coincidence how you both ended up as one of the few people living on school grounds in the middle of winter break when most of the students, teachers and staff have left for their own holidays. 

But some could also say, it was fate for these two souls who haven’t felt seen by their supposedly loved ones in a long time, who grew up lonelier and lonelier as the people around them moved on, grew up, or drifted away. Maybe, just maybe, it was fate leading them to each other, as some kind of plot twist they didn’t know they needed to have in their life. 

⋅˚₊‧ 𖥸 ‧₊˚ ⋅

As the movie came to an end, so does your little Christmas date with Kageyama. You almost didn’t want to leave from your position after having really snuggled yourself under the soft, plush blanket that Kageyama had especially put on the side for you.

“This was really fun.” You slowly stretched your legs as you reluctantly got off of his warm bed. “I’m really glad you invited me, Tobio. Thank you.” You said. 

Kageyama beamed with pride as he felt so seen in your eyes. Spending time with you, just the two of you, was probably the best present he could have ever received this Christmas. Despite knowing he embarrassed himself a few times that night, he didn’t think anything else could top the evening. Except maybe…

As you picked up your bag to turn towards his door, you felt a gentle hand land on your shoulder, gently spinning you around back to the blueberry eyed boy standing in front of you with a look that just made you want to melt on the spot.

“You don’t have to be alone on Christmas again.” Kageyama started. “We can do this again next year.” 

He added, “Or doesn’t have to be next year. Can be anytime you want,” Kageyama tried to control his enthusiasm, but he couldn’t help it. Being around you felt like he could hit 10 service aces in a row, (he secretly wants to test this theory, but that’s for another time). 

Maybe this was the kind of feeling that people call “walking on cloud 9” or maybe it’s what falling in love felt like. Regardless, of what it is, Kageyama knew he wanted to keep being in your life, “If that’s something you’d like?”

“Do you really mean that?”

To Kageyama, it was a no-brainer question. But, looking at the soft look in your eyes and how the multicolored sparkles of light dancing across your irises, illuminated by the holiday fairy lights that were decorating his bookshelf, a small sliver of hope flickered on your face, awaiting his answer.

He knew at that moment that the question held more weight to it for you. He knew at that moment, he didn’t want you to go through another lonely Christmas or birthday, or Valentines’ Day, or if you just wanted company. He’d be there for you if you’d call.

Kageyama nodded as he poured all the honesty he had in his heart, sealing his “yes” in a promise.

“Then, I’d like that very much.” You said.

At the corner of your eye, you noticed something dangling at the edge of Kageyama’s bookshelf, sticking out between two books that almost looked like it’d fall off after one big shove on the shelf.  “Is that…”

Kageyama took a step closer to the shelf to pluck it out of its wedged place and pushed back the books so they wouldn’t fall on either of you. 

As he realized that he also took a step closer to you. He raised the mystery item in between the two of you and revealed a small famous christmas ornament, laced perfectly with a red-ribbon.

“Mistletoe.” You bit your lip cheekily at him, subtly questioning his intentions for the end of your evening together. 

“My friends left it here, I swear.” He protested.

“Mhm.”

“I hate those guys.” He argued.

“Mhm, sure you do.” 

“I really, really hate them.” 

“Yeah, I hear you.” You laughed at his poor attempts at a defense.

“I don’t hate you though.” He shyly admitted in defeat.

“You’re really cute when you get caught.” You giggled.

With confidence and gentle hands, Kageyama brought his fingers through some stray hairs that draped down the sides of your face, moving the strands aside to rest his hand on the side of your cheek. 

“I know this isn’t where you wanted to be this weekend.” He started, with his eyes never leaving yours as it searched for any hint of rejection from you as he continued. “But I just really wanted to say,”

“Yeah?” Your eyes shined with encouragement that silently told him to relax as you both drew closer to each other.

“I’m glad you’re here,” He whispered as his lips brushed across from yours, “Truly.”

“Me too.” You agreed as you closed your eyes and the gap between you two, sealing your promises to each other with a sweet kiss.

Your friend cancelling on your holiday plans now seemed to be for the best. At least because of it, you finally had someone to be with that actually enjoyed your company, and that you wouldn’t mind making one or two new Christmas plans with Kageyama. Knowing you’ll both be there for each other not just for holidays but also for every other important milestone in your lives that have yet to come.

[vettelsdarling]

𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐞

Lissie note… Here’s the second winner of the poll. I stupidly duplicated him💀 but just tallied those numbers together. Also yes, I’m trying out new layouts rn so please lmk if this looks great or not<3

Summary: A photographer from the heart of NYC has been in a low-key relationship with Lando Norris for a while now…

————

Things to note:

Reader is a menace tbh

Lando and reader are separated by 2 yrs

Reader is a known photographer (just not famous yk)

————

Pairing: Lando Norris x Photographer!Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Playlist recommendations: 𝐋𝐍𝟒, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗

Taglist: @drugged-kitkat, @ophcelia, @darleneslane, @allwaysalleyway, @littlesatanicassholebitch

Twitter

yourusername

Liked by yourbestfriend and 253 others

yourusername What a great day to change my pfp on my Twitter😮‍💨

View all comments

yourbestfriend Isn’t that the camera I got you last Christmas?

yourusername Merry Christmas ig

yourbestfriend The enthusiasm🥰

yourusername WOW!?!???!!!! IT REALLY IS THE CAMERA YOU GAVE ME LAST YEAR AHHH I STILL HAVE IT CAUSE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

yourbestfriend Nah now it doesn’t feel genuine😒

Liked by yourusername

landonorris

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 847,733 others

Tagged: yourusername, mclaren

landonorris What’s up 2023?🧡

View all comments

user1 The photos are better this year wtf😮‍💨

user2 He looks amazing regardless

user3 YESSS IT’S BACKKK LET’S GOO🧡🧡🧡

yourusername Ty for the tag, great working w/ you

Liked by landonorris

user4 Ty for blessing Lando’s face

user5 She’s a magician with a camera😩

user6 Danny isn’t racing this yr right?😞

user7 Yeah he isn’t😭😭😭

user8 Ugh MCLAREN WHYYY

user9 I’m manifesting🫡

user10 Actually so delulu I made a mood board consisting ONLY of Lando😃

user11 At least you’re self aware💀

Twitter

yourusername

Liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris and 373 others

Tagged: landonorris, mclaren

yourusername Tbh I feel kinda bad for knowing next to NOTHING abt f1 but I’ll just do my job and whatever to pay rent in New York🤡 Last resort is the pole (not position😞)

View all comments

yourbestfriend 💀

yourusername Are you implying I wouldn’t be a great pole dancer?🤨

yourbestfriend Honestly? Yeah🥰

yourusername Bitch.

landonorris I didn’t even realize you’d take this many pics

yourusername Welcome to your new life (I sound and look like a fucking stalker rn wtaf)

yourfriend WTF YOU NEVER SAID YOU PHOTOGRAPHED LANDO NORRIS????

yourusername Surprise!!😻

landonorris

Liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,194,290 others

Tagged: yourusername

landonorris Checking out the credentials🤨

View all comments

yourusername At least I’m better than you🥰

landonorris You make a fair point… it’s your job😒

user1 Bffr rn😭

user2 Wdym? it’s his designated photographer. I think she’s a part of the team cause McLaren hired her

user1 Wait really?

user2 …yeah💀

user3 The way I love this new photographer😩

user4 Yeah she’s good. She’s well known in the photography world as one of the best in nyc

user3 Wtf that’s such an honor

user5 IS THAT HER??? 10 bucks they’re dating but not telling us

user6 Nah that’s too quick💀 They JUST hired her like this year.

user7 I’m excited for her shots in Miami

user8 I’ve seen some of her stuff at her gallery. Some of it sells for more than a month’s salary

user9 Her instagram is private😔💔

user10 It’s always been😭😭😭

f1gossip

5,367 likes

f1gossip New beau, Lando?👀

View all comments

user1 HUH WHAT😃

user2 They are just friends they are just friends they are just friends

user3 stfu what is this😭

user4 That looks a lot like yourusername

user5 💀

yourusername

Liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend and 271 others

yourusername Luckily this account is private💪 Hope they don’t find my very not private Twitter💀

View all comments

yourbestfriend Good luck😭

yourusername ty, I will not need it😩

landonorris what is this Twitter you speak of🤨🤨🤨

yourusername Nothing👽

f1gossip

2,378 likes

f1gossip Looks like Lando’s girl has Twitter👀

View all comments

user1 Wtaf I love her

user2 Ever wondered she might not want it leaked💀

yourusername Oh… wow…😐

user3 OFMHSK IT’S YOU

yourusername In all my glory😮‍💨🔥

user4 I love how she’s literally just like everyone else and not some snob😭

lando.jpg

Liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, infour and 927,382 others

Tagged: yourusername

landonorris Who would’ve thought it was possible to post your own paparazzi photos?!

View all comments

yourusername Holy shit, this is revolutionary🤯

Liked by landonorris

yourusername Why don’t the media just hire me to take better pics of us🤡🤡

landonorris Ikr

user1 Nah I’m loving this

user2 They are really handing the media’s ass on a silver plate💀💀💀

user3 This is pure gold😭

user4 I thought Kika and Pierre were my fav but Lando and her just raised the bar

user5 Honestly lmao

user6 why aren’t more wags like this

user7 Publicity probs

user8 Publicity doesn't make sense because she’d fear it too..?

user7 Nah I actually don’t think she cares very much💀

user9 You guys keep doing you, this is amazing.

yourusername Hell yeah😩

Twitter

yourusername

Liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 563 others

yourusername We’ve been around👯‍♀️

Tagged: yourbestfriend

View all comments

yourbestfriend FUCK YEAH WE HAVE

yourusername Ugh we should travel together sometime

yourbestfriend We should

landonorris Where was my invite?

yourusername Nonexistent.

landonorris Wow. I feel so insulted.

yourusername

Liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 63,278 others

Tagged: landonorris, yourbestfriend

yourusername Welcome to my Instagram, peasants. Above, you can see a little bit of everything I serve on here (and yes, I do SERVE).

View all comments

yourbestfriend Hot

yourusername I know

landonorris ❤️

yourusername tmrw is our 1 yr anniversary.

landonorris Did you think I forgot?

yourusername Yes

landonorris You’re not wrong…

user1 1 YEAR WHAT????

user2 They hid it for so long😭

user3 I’ve been waiting ages to finally gain access to her Instagram

yourusername thank you, loyal plebe.

user4 2nd pic is me during exam season❤️

user5 Literally same

user6 She’s living my dream fr

yourusername I must be very powerful, then

user7 Skin care routine???

yourusername Random shit from drugstores

user8 She’s so down to earth but classy in a funny way. How tf do I even explain her😭

yourusername I’m an enigma

user9 Lando is lucky wtf

yourusername Right?

user10 No but you and Lando compliment each other so well

yourusername Ty<3

landonorris

Liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 1,037,278 others

Tagged: yourusername

landonorris For a whole year, you’ve given me everything I’ve ever needed. A fun and breezy outlook on life. You’re just amazing. I love you and I didn’t forget about today❤️

Comments have been limited

yourusername I’ll let it go for today. Only because I love you too❤️

Liked by landonorris

maxverstappen1 Congrats you guys👏

Liked by landonorris

yourbestfriend Feels like yesterday I told you how to get her attention😔

Liked by landonorris

carlossainz55 Congratulations guys, enjoy yourselves today🍾

Liked by landonorris

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻…

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩! (𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙙𝙢𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨: 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧(𝙨) 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚(𝙨) 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣.)

*Please note that liking the taglist will not put you on it!

[exonerin]

Picking Up Strays [Obikin | A03 | ✓]

This year, I made a poll to decide what fic I would write for Christmas. Cat!Anakin was the (rightful) winner of this poll. So, I wrote and posted this fic over the previous days leading up to Christmas. This fic is now completed!

(Yes, I'm a day early. My math didn't add up. Merry Christmas if you celebrate, and otherwise a very happy end of December). Also, there's bonus content at the bottom of this post!!

Synopsis:

A mission on Dathomir to find a rumored Sith Temple turns wild when Anakin is transformed into a cat. Obi-Wan, unaware of this transformation, believes Anakin has been kidnapped by the night sisters. Called back to the Temple, he returns with a cat rather than his Padawan.

Anakin is in the unique position to learn his Master cares about him from Obi-Wan's shoulder. He also learns why animals take a shine to his Master. Obi-Wan is very good with animals, Anakin included.

Tags: Top Obi-Wan Kenobi Bottom Anakin Skywalker Praise Kink Cursed Anakin Skywalker Fluff Animal Transformation Anakin Skywalker Is An Adorable Cat (According To Obi-Wan) Mutual Masturbation

(Also, there's no beastiality. I realize I never specified that)

The boy refused to look him in the eye, staunchly turning his head when Sidious tried to catch his gaze.

It was infuriating.

If the boy tossed him one more scornful side-eye, pouting like Sidious had killed his family -- wasn't that an ironic observation? -- Sidious would do something he would regret.

Kenobi sat by the boy's side, clutching the boy's hand. Or the boy clutched Kenobi's hand. Sidious couldn't tell, and he really didn't care. There was no explanation for anything that had happened.

When they had parted, the boy had looked at him with soulful eyes, pouting that he couldn't reveal where he was sent next. Sidious had noted that once the boy was his apprentice, he would have to clarify that one should never mention one was sent on a secret mission.

The naivety served him well currently, though.

Yet, the boy wouldn't be his apprentice now. No, a decade of hard work was ruined by an event Sidious wasn't part of. The boy refused his calls and turned his invitations down. When Sidious tried to visit the Jedi's temple, the guards turned him away, too.

The humiliation burning in his stomach was a powerful emotion that would help him snap Kenobi's and Skywalker's necks instantly. It was only the reminder that he was more powerful than they could imagine that kept him in his seat.

As a last-ditch attempt to talk to the boy, he had engineered peace talks with the Separatists. Skywalker and Kenobi were the obvious Jedi representation after Sidious had dropped a few hints.

He hadn't seen the boy since he was sent on a secret mission, but he had returned with new ears. He also purred when Kenobi grabbed his thigh, and it had taken all of Sidious' decennia of training to refrain from lashing out.

They were disgusting. Everything about this farce was wrong.

Amidala had wiggled her way into these negotiations, and the Bonteri wench was making fast friends with her. No, this was not going according to Sidious' plans at all.

He could adapt, though. His plans were as flexible as his mind. He would prevail here. Whatever perceived evil misdeed had the boy in such a tizzy, he would smoothen out. He had done so before.

During a break in a meeting that strayed further and further from his plans, he finally intercepted the boy. The boy had remained glued to Kenobi's side throughout the meeting. As a precaution, Sidious had volunteered Kenobi to show the appointed Separatist negotiators the coffee area.

"Anakin," he called out to Anakin, pitching his voice grandfatherly. The boy always reacted well to his warm voice.

Now, the boy jumped a foot in the air, twisted, and hissed.

He hissed at Sidious.

This revealed two sharp incisors.

Sidious regained his composure quickly, forcing his expression to remain placid.

"Anakin, would you mind escorting this old man to the restroom?" he asked.

"No," Anakin refused.

Movement in Sidious' periphery caught his attention. A tail swished in a slow pattern, reminding Sidious of a predator eyeing its prey. This was a warning -- or perhaps a threat.

"No?" he echoed dumbly.

He knew people watched, their shock palpable in the air to a Force-sensitive.

"No," the boy repeated smugly. "I will not."

Then, he turned around and hurried in the direction Kenobi had taken the Separatist representatives, almost tripping over his feet and tail in his eagerness.

This wasn't supposed to happen. For the first time since Sidious had stood over his Master's corpse, he felt ill-equipped to deal with a situation.

The remainder of the day went worse, all his scheming amounting to nothing. Skywalker and Kenobi still held hands as they left the Senate Rotunda, not even trying to be subtle.

It didn't matter. Sidious would find a way. He always did. He would also get his revenge for the utter humiliation of picking Kenobi over his most generous offer. The Jedi were weak; he would show them true power.

When he returned to his office, his nose itched. Irritated, he slumped in his seat, brushing animal hair from the furniture futily.

Did the boy shed in Sidious' office?

Oh, this was a disgrace. Sidious sneezed multiple times in succession, a headache building above his nose. His revenge would be sweet.

[cosmerelists]

Hallmark Christmas Movies: But Make It Cosmere

Merry Christmas! I wasn't planning on doing a bunch of Christmas lists this year, but, well, the ideas kept coming! From now until Christmas Eve, I hope you'll enjoy a series of Cosmere Christmas Specials, starting with this one.

If you love a cheesy Hallmark (or Netflix or whatever) Christmas movies, then you'd probably enjoy these Cosmere-themed knockoffs too!

1. A Chouta Christmas

A high-powered Thaylen merchant woman goes to a small Herdazian town on business over the holidays. There, she meets a small-town chouta salesman who may help her find her Christmas spirit--and a Christmas romance.

2. Love, Really

In a series of love stories from all over Nalthis, various couples find love or heartbreak over the holiday season: a man who has reached the Third Heightening falls in love with a drab woman; one of the Returned Gods falls for a handsome petitioner; an Idrian widower cautiously begins dating again; and even the God-King himself might start dating his wife.

3. The Prime Aqasix Switch

When the Prime Aqasix of Azir meets a humble accountant who looks just like him, the two of them hatch a holiday plan to switch lives just for a couple of days, right before Christmas.

4. The Mistborn Before Christmas

A Mistborn man is magically transported to modern-day Scadrial by a witch, who tells him that he must complete a mysterious quest by Christmas day. In modern-day Scadrial, the Mistborn meets a young woman who has given up on romance--at least until she meets this dashing and powerful stranger from the past.

5 The Vacation

Two women--one from Elantris and one from Arelon--decide to switch homes in order to take a much-needed Christmas vacation. While living in each other's houses, they might just find themselves discovering new love along the way.

6. A Christmas Duke

On Lumar, a Duke's son is due to ascend to his father's position--only there are rumors that he plans to abdicate. He also has a reputation of being an irrepressible ladies' man. A journalist, determined to get the real story, sneaks into the Duke's mansion by posing as a gardener...but upon meting the Duke's son, she might just find love instead.

7. Cowboy Gentlemen

A woman in Elendel is determined to save her father's cowboy-themed bar, which is threatening to close: right before Christmas! Her plan is to bring in a troupe of sexy cowboys to perform...unaware that she also might be bringing in the cowboy of her dreams.

8. Hot Stick

In the cold Frostlands of Roshar, a woman places a magical scarf on a snowman...unknowingly bringing one of its arms to life. This newly human (and super hot) former stick may just be the flame she's been looking for...only there won't be any actual flames involved. This hot stick HATES fire.

[kazutora-kurokawa]

TokRev Christmas HCs

♡ SFW, fluffy, final timeline au, gn reader (mostly about the characters and less about reader lol) ♡

note: A day late but Merry Christmas (and whatever other holidays y'all celebrate 💕) hope everyone had a good time yesterday and it wasn't too stressful, now let's jump into a lot of headcanons lol

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

🎁 Mikey goes outside as soon as it starts snowing, he could spot a little snowflake out the corner of his eyes and he's immediately calling everyone outside

🎁 Takemichi used to go outside without a jacket all the time and always regretted not listening to his mom when she told him to put one on

🎁 If Pah is standing under a mistletoe he won't even notice, Peh has to explain (and scream) what the mistletoe means

🎁 Kazutora and Hanma carry around mistletoe and hold it over your head to get you to kiss them

🎁 Baji and Chifuyu dress up Peke J in a little elf costume and end up with multiple cat scratches (worth it tho)

🎁 Peke J also loves messing with the decorations on the tree, twice as annoying as any toy with a bell in it

🎁 Shinichiro always decorates the Christmas tree in the Sano household (with Izana and Emma's help ofc) and one year, Mikey was half asleep and walked into it, knocking the entire tree over and putting a hole in the wall

🎁 Mikey can never reach the Christmas decorations, so he throws his sandal at the box and knocks it off the shelf (and it falls on him lmao)

🎁 Koko and Inui (and Akane) always spend Christmas with Taiju, Hakkai, and Yuzuha, even when they tell Taiju they have other plans (loyalty to the boss fr)

🎁 Mitsuya makes Taiju a shark plushie and he almost cries

🎁 Mitsuya makes scarves, hats, and gloves for a lot of Toman members (even when he knows they probably won't wear them)

🎁 Mitsuya also makes stuff for his sisters and mom because he's just an absolute sweetheart

🎁 Izana and Kakucho still make snow forts like they did when they were younger, except now they do it with the rest of Tenjiku and the kids they take care of

🎁 Takemichi and Hina have accidentally gotten each other the same thing at least three times and they pretend that they planned to match

🎁 The Toman captains and vcs do a secret Santa gift exchange and Nahoya and Baji just steal stuff from the person they have to get a gift for and give it back disguised as an actual present

🎁 Nahoya and Souya bake cookies for the Toman captains and vcs and put them in cute little gift bags

🎁 Takeomi doesn't really like Christmas (Grinch ass mf) but he tries to make it fun for Senju and Haru

🎁 Wakasa loves Christmas because he always gets gifted fancy candy and chocolates

🎁 Benkai puts Waka on his shoulders so he can put a star on top of the tree

🎁 December is Akkun, Chifuyu, and Makoto's birthday month, so they all get double presents

🎁 Kisaki buys Hanma a new motorcycle and Hanma never lets him live it down

"Aww, you do love me Kisaki ♡"

"Shut up you freak." - a flustered Kisaki

🎁 Everyone goes to Takemichi's for Christmas and damn near wreck his house (Michi just can't get a break can he?)

🎁 One Christmas, Kazutora got a letter from his father and proceeded to burn it (as he should), then him and Baji tracked him down and busted his car windows out

🎁 Toman always takes a bunch of pictures during Christmas and Emma prints them out and puts them in little photo books to gift to them

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx @evergreen-endo @hanmaslilslut @dystop4in14nd @mysouleaten @mdsbabygirl

[soscarlett1twas]

Merry Christmas, Please Don't Call

�� Over half a decade removed from that dreadful night, Simon Marston reflects on the holiday season.  ↳ 863 words ↳ Well. I couldn’t not write something about them for Christmas. This fic has song lyrics woven into it, from the eponymous song Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call by the Bleachers. Song lyrics are italicized, as they’re meant to be Simon’s thoughts.

Outside, snow began to fall.

Flakes of white drifted in sparse flurries, starch against the midnight black. Beyond them, thousands of lights illuminated the cityscape – yellows, reds, greens, blues. They draped themselves along rooftops, strung into trees, decorating the air between street lamps. 

Simon couldn't see anyone about. Not that he expected too – the wee hours of Christmas crept up on him differently than everyone else. Most people were asleep, surrounded by those they loved, awaiting the dawn to continue celebrating. Perhaps a few kids were restless in their excitement, but he could remember those days well enough; it was more pathetic for a 27-year-old man to be doing the same.

Everybody's gone. It's just you and your anger, he mused humorlessly. 

Of course, that wasn’t true. His boyfriend was in the other room, already asleep: not an hour ago, the floor he sunk to was danced upon by a swarm of his friends. Glitter from dresses and festive wrappers darkened against the wood floor. New memories of a Christmas Eve party, already fading. 

He stood up and gathered the trash, making his way through the living room. The lowlight of his own tree made it difficult. Or maybe that was the booze. He ought not to be doing this slightly drunk, he figured, but he also didn’t want to leave it. He was still so restless. 

Adrenaline from the party still pumping through him, he tried to push out the other stressor. 

Simon picked up a half-finished bottle of champagne, left on the coffee table, surrounded by similarly unfinished drinks. The yellow liquid inside glimmered in the light, the waterline-rings left by it rimmed with gold. The sight was an old friend. 

Enough years had passed for Simon to not feel the crippling loneliness anymore, not handicapped by the depression winter brought. The one-two punch of November birthdays and December celebrations was, once, too much to handle. But years built like trauma, and what was once fresh became distant scars. 

Simon glanced at the bottle in his hand and had enough sense to put it down. That could be left for himself to clean in a better mind. A small reminder that those days were behind him. 

‘Cause even if he was stronger now it wasn’t any easier. And God, it was still so hard. 

And leave it to Andrew to slit him back open. 

Oh, golden boy, don't act like you were kind. 

His phone lay heavy in his pocket. Whatever olive branch of a message he swung was pointless. His twin flame was still trying to cauterize the wound.

I would rather burn forever. 

Simon collapsed onto the couch, rubbing his eyes. They were suddenly very sore. It wasn’t uncommon nowadays, often along with headaches. It had annoyed him since he stopped wearing his glasses.

The bleariness wasn’t usual, though. When he drew his hands away from his face, they couldn’t seem to refocus – only the light from the tree permeated his vision clearly. Simon looked at it. 

The iridescent lights burst along the tree, stretching in blurred dollops. Each ornament faded to the background, but somehow the star managed to keep its shape, atop the tree in all its shining glory. In spite of everything, in spite of Simon, it remains unblemished. 

Reminded him of someone else he knew.

Oh, golden boy, you shined a light on our home. And at your best, you were magic we were sold. 

He sat up, his vision returning to him in slow blinks. His hands made it to the edge of the couch as he box-breathed – four seconds drawing breath, four seconds holding, four seconds releasing…

It was a trick one of his buddies taught him, who used it to maintain calm when shooting. Simon used it to steady himself in other ways.  

But you should know that I died slow, he found himself thinking. Still angry, still alone. And the toughest part is that we both know: what happened to you, why you're out on your own.

Because surely he was not that stupid. Surely the Christmas star, shining in all his visage, was that witless to not reason why his brother had left. No, he knew. But whether he was petty or vindictive or simply cruel, all the possibilities in Simon’s alcohol-addled head mixed to stir anger, that rage he always thought was gone until resparked. 

He sat box-breathing for a few more minutes. Still angry, still alone. But one of these he could fix.

When he felt secure enough, Simon moved from the couch down the hall, trailing into the bedroom. His partner, simply a lump under the duvet, groaned at the sliver of light which bled through the cracked door. He smiled at that, and a certain hurt drained away. 

After brushing his teeth and washing his face, he climbed into his side of the bed. It was cold to the touch, and he shivered. 

Leaning over, he plugged his phone into a charger, the screen illuminated. Temporarily blinded by the blue light, he made out a single notification. 

The text, sent an hour ago. Merry Christmas. 

He let the screen turn black, only thinking ‘please don't call.’