#because that expensive cocoa was there

[thomas-mvller]

You know when you go to a friend's house and they make you taste something there which you've never tried before and it was so good you immediately decided to incorporate it to your own pantry and so you'd go all happy to the supermarket to get it and now sometimes you see that product and it makes you remember who or what got you into it and you reminisce the old times..... yeah.....

[assmaster-8000]

i never understood how "i wonder how i taste" applied to kisses. like saliva babes. lol i ain't ever kissed someone but i think the MOST you'd taste is their lipbalm or lipstick which btw tastes fucking dreadful

[icewindandboringhorror]

sleepy mr baby + other random misc images

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

woke up and someone spilled vanilla extract all over my dash, so as punishment you strange little beasties are getting all the VANILLA FACTS i know:

vanilla is the 2nd most expensive spice in the world (2nd to saffron)

which is why more than 99% of what we call "vanilla extract" is actually vanillin (vanilla's dominant flavor compound) and is not extracted from real vanilla.

luckily, even professionals struggle to tell the difference when it comes to things like baked goods. but there is a distinct difference in non-heat treated products like vanilla ice cream. real vanilla has a more complex, individualized flavor profile.

why is vanilla so expensive? because it is a ridiculously delicate & demanding crop. complete primadonna.

vanilla beans come from vanilla orchids. these crazy flowers bloom for A SINGLE DAY and have to be HAND-POLLINATED in a process that is exhausting, delicate, and requires specialist knowledge passed down over generations.

then, if you're lucky, you get vanilla beans.

which then require months of further specialized treatment.

the entire process takes about a year and can go wrong at any stage

vanilla has been cultivated for over 800 years (possibly much longer). the first known cultivators are the Totonac, an indigenous people of Mexico.

the Aztecs used it as a sweetener to balance out the bitter taste of cocoa. it was popular in a drink called xocolatl--the precursor to modern hot chocolate!

it is only pollinated by a very specific orchid bee!!!

which is why no fruit could be grown outside of Mexico until the 1800s

Edmond Albius, born into slavery, invented the pollination method we still use today--launching a global industry when he was just 12 years old.

today, the majority of the world's vanilla is grown in Madagascar

if you want real vanilla, read the labels carefully--it's harder to find than you think!

in conclusion, those tiny black specks you see in fancy vanilla ice cream? those are vanilla bean seeds! itty bitty orchid seeds!!! they are delicious and also a PRISSY BITCH!

(src)

[goldensadnessdolphin]

For reasons I won't get into, I thought I'd have a little snack.

I remembered that we have some greek yogurt. Being the little slut that I am, I put some honey, walnuts and what I thought was normal cocoa powder in there. Like hell yeah, greek chokki smoothie.

It was baking cocoa powder. The yogurt tastes like Anubis' asshole. I thought I'd eat like a king but I made something no peasant would accept as payment for the whore house. I made my bed, not noticing I was digging a grave. I wanted to go to Fucksville but had a flat tire at Findoutshire. I created something that'd make you think colonoscopy fluid was ambrosia

[kazvha]

WHAT THE GENSHIN BOYS SMELL LIKE

Including: Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Freminet, Gaming, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lyney, Neuvillette, Tartaglia, Thoma, Tighnari, Venti, Wanderer, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli

Notes: These are just personal headcanons, don't take these too seriously🥴 Enjoy!!💛

ALBEDO

• I think he smells like nothing most of the time

• You only feel cold air when you stand next to him because he's in Dragonspine a lot

• Subtle notes of charcoal which he uses as an art tool or of strong chemicals cling onto him on some days

ALHAITHAM

• I also don't think he smells like anything on most days, maybe only like the fresh clothes he's wearing

• Though he has a faint scent of coconut to him. It could be the shampoo or the skin care products he's using, but it's mostly because of his body lotion

AYATO

• His hair always smells like the shampoo he uses. So sugary and sweet, like vanilla cake or bubblegum

• But for his body and clothes he uses expensive clean and powdery fragrances

• Quite the combo, I must say💀 Strange, just like his taste in food

BAIZHU

• Smells like expensive bar soap. A mix of aloe vera and ginger

• Also smells kinda sour because of the herbs he works with

CYNO

• Smells like pure white musk which smells great

• But it can be quite intense on some days when he decides to go overboard with his sprays

• He's sweating at the end of the day but the smell is subtle

DAINSLEIF

• He smells like the environment he was in. Often it's nature. Every now and then he smells like the rain too

• Also smells kinda dusty, like that basement smell you know? People either love it or hate it.

DILUC

• He smells warm and homely. Notes of cedar, sandalwood, or cinnamon

• But you'd have to stand really close to him to smell anything, his coat kinda dulls the scent

• Of course, he always smells like the vineyard and grapes during the harvest

FREMINET

• Smells fresh like bar soap. It's almost unnoticeable. It has a light scent of baby powder

• His clothes smell like chamomile because of the fabric softener he uses

GAMING

• This fella smells like cocoa butter because he uses it as body lotion

• I can also imagine that he carries an aroma of caramel/burnt sugar

• Bro eats so much dim sum, he often smells like the food he ate

GOROU

• I don't think he has a particular scent

• But his home/room smells like cinnamon, cloves, and oranges. The scent kinda rubs off on him

HEIZOU

• He wears body mists with floral notes. His favorites are maybe roses, lavender, or honeysuckle

• He likes to keep a little lavender sachet in his closet, so his clothes also smell like flowers

ITTO

• Idk, he probably smells like someone who's outside a lot. He has that outside smell, you know what I mean?

• He probably wears a musky fragrance, but it usually mixes with his sweat

KAEYA

• My bro is using all sorts of Arabian oils and fragrances. He has some with the notes of oud, musk, amber, and much more. Kaeya has a whole collection

• He smells divine and he knows it because people compliment him every day

• But like Venti, he drinks a lot, so his scent mixes with the wine odor

KAVEH

• Kaveh likes to wear fruity, tropical fragrances because he's always craving chilled fruits, especially on days that are hotter than usual.

• They also remind him of the days on which he sat in front of his house with his parents and ate watermelons

• Also has an alcohol odor sometimes like his fellas in Mondstadt

KAZUHA

• He uses a fabric softener because he likes his clothes to be extra comfortable. That's why he often smells like fresh laundry

• Because he spends a lot of his free time in nature, he probably also smells like grass or firewood

LYNEY

• Berries. He always smells like berries.

• He won't tell you what his secret is

• You guess every product he uses has the scent of berries. His bodywash, his shampoo, his body lotion, his deodorant, his fabric softener, the candle in his room, his lip balm, etc. Even his toothpaste...

NEUVILLETTE

• This sir smells like the ocean. Like the sea breeze. Like water itself.

• Yeah, he likes expensive-smelling aquatic colognes. Though occasionally he also uses citrusy perfumes

TARTAGLIA

• Something tells me that he either smells like expensive aquatic fragrances

• Or he smells like an old lady mixed with the aroma of nature, grass, firewood, animals, etc.

THOMA

• He probably likes to wear sweet scents like tonka bean and honey

• Or even perfumes with fruity notes like peach or pear

TIGHNARI

• You can't tell me this guy doesn't smell like herbs, plants, flowers and stuff

• Idk, when I think of him I think of eucalyptus

VENTI

• He would smell quite fresh and idk, breezy?

• Like a fresh breath of air in spring if you know what I mean

• But since he's drunk most of the time the overbearing odor of wine sticks to him

WANDERER

• Nahida gifted him a citrus perfume and he has been using it ever since

• He likes bitter smells too, so he bought himself bitter perfumes with bergamot, bitter orange, and grapefruit notes

WRIOTHESLEY

• I think he wears a perfume which has woody, earthy notes. Sometimes he has a fresh minty smell to him too

• When he fights the scents obviously mix with his sweat

• I also think a light scent of motor oil sticks to him

XIAO

• Most of the days he smells literally like nothing, or sweat. It's not overbearing though

• But there are some days on which he smells super sweet, like vanilla, cotton candy, a baked treat or something

• It's either because he ate those things or because he has body sprays with these scents. He won't tell you

ZHONGLI

• If you're standing close to him, you'll smell his pleasant cologne scent

• It could be musky or woody, but he usually wears floral scents like osmanthus

• His scent mixes with the aroma of tea leaves or herbs which he gets from wandering in the market and drinking tea the whole day

[pearlymel]

✩ CW: SUGARDADDY!NANAMI, fem!reader, fluff, MDNI unprotected soft sēx, lowkey breeding kink. basically he pays you to spend time with him. overall felt soft writing this.

Nanami watches you tilt your head up, your smile full of childlike wonder as you observe the snowfall. The snowflakes that are as white as your coat.

"You wanted to see me because of the snow?" You ask, your eyes meeting his.

A rare smile graces his lips, and the sight makes his heart feel inexplicably lighter. "Mhmm," he replies, his voice deep yet somewhat soft. "You like the snow, don't you?" He brings the wine glass to his lips and takes a small sip, his gaze flickering over you, from head to toe. The way the snowflakes dance in your hair, your bright eyes, the way you were smiling as if enjoying this time with him… All of it adding to your beauty.

He looks unbothered by the chill in the air, and the snow that gently falls on his shoulders melts on contact. He sets down his glass, his eyes still fixed on you.

His gaze drops to the cup in your hands, his eyes lingering on the steam rising from the hot liquid. "Hot cocoa?"

Wine and hot cocoa, what a match.

“Better than wine in this weather, don't you think?”

Nanami's lips curve into a half-smile at your response, finding your practicality endearing, "I suppose you're right," he nods slightly, the sound of the falling snow blending with the soft hum of the city. "Sometimes it's not about alcohol—it's about what feels nice." He watches you with a slightly fond look, continuing to enjoy the way the snow dances around you like tiny, frozen stars.

The quiet settles between you two like the snow falling around you. He’s not one to fill silences—he’s much more comfortable listening. But still, he can’t ignore the nagging feeling that this time should be different.

“Kento,” the call of his name immediately grabs his attention, “why.. do you always have to buy something expensive for me whenever we meet? I'm perfectly content with you paying me in exchange of my time.” your question is something he didn't expect you to bring up, but he can understand anyway, you're always grateful for the little things, even when you always deny his gifts because they're too ‘expensive’.

His fingers tighten around the stem of his wine glass, and you notice. He’s silent for a beat before he responds in a murmur, "Because I want to."

He doesn’t elaborate right away, his eyes flickering over you, and away, as if he’s considering his words. He seems lost in thought, though he’s struggling to articulate something.

Your fingers glide along the cup holder of your hot cocoa, relishing in the warm in provides for your palms, “you should find a wife for yourself,” you tell him, honestly. “It's better than wasting your money on this…”

But Nanami nearly scoffs at your suggestion. As if it's that simple.

"And who'd want to marry a sorcerer?" He retorts dryly. "One day, you will wake up in the middle of the night to find me gone. Off hunting a cursed spirit, or fighting. Maybe not coming back." His jaw tightens "It’s not that simple." He continues, taking a larger sip of his drink to buy himself some time.

"I..."

He doesn't finish his thought, his tongue suddenly feeling like lead in his mouth.

And you understand, so you don't press on further.

"Maybe I'm just not the type." He finally speaks before he looks away from you, staring at how the snow has taken over the city.

You want to almost apologize for killing the mood but another question pops in your head that you just can't resist but ask.

“Kento,” your sweet voice that calls his name, again.

“Why did you decide—I mean, why are you doing this with me?”

The arrangement between you.

The answer was simple, "You’re the only good thing in my life... right now.”

You chuckle, "I find that hard to believe. Are there not any good people where you work at?”

"Most of them are idiots or brats. Or both."

“Mm,” you take another sip of your hot drink that started to cool down, “does anyone know…”

“No.” Quick to answer, again. “Embarrassed?” You ask jokingly.

And Nanami's brow furrows at the question, "Embarrassed?” he repeats, "More like protective." he mutters under his breath.

His lips purse in thought, before he continues, "I don’t like sharing.”

“… protective?”

“Of course I’m protective," he mutters, his voice low. "What we have..." He trails off, his words suddenly failing to find the right way to describe this thing between you two. Instead, he lets out a frustrated sigh. "You’re special. I don’t like the idea of sharing that.”

You feel like you should close this topic for now, and you push your sleeve up to take the time from your wrist watch.

He doesn't have to ask, it cue to leave. And Nanami always walks you home whenever you meet somewhere close to your place.

You both walk along the snow trail on the side walk, leaving your footprints behind, Nanami follows beside you, his hands also shoved in the pockets of his coat as well as yours.

His gaze flicks from the children playing in the snow, the old friends chattering and laughing as they catch up on life, to the couples walking by hand-in-hand.

“You like kids?” Nanami blinks at your question, his focus shifting back to you. For a moment, he almost looks embarrassed to be caught staring too long at a few children singing and laughing as they drown in the snow.

“Yeah,” he replies gruffly, his eyes flickering to the group of kids before looking back at you. He’s silent for a few moments before speaking again. “I like kids...” he says slowly, as if he’s testing the words on his tongue. “Not a lot, but I like them.”

You giggle, the sound warm and light, and his expression softens. He can’t help but be taken in by your carefree attitude. It's a side of you that makes him even more drawn.

He keeps walking as he glances at you, watching as you rub your chin against the scarf wrapped around your neck. He almost wants to reach out and touch you, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he clears his throat before asking, "are you warm enough?”

You stop walking, “wanna hold my hand?”

“… do you want me to?” he asks slowly.

………..

It doesn't take long until your hand is interlock tightly with yours, his hand enveloping your own in his pocket.

He really doesn't want to let go.

The journey passes in relative silence, the only sound is the crunching of snow under your feet. Nanami doesn’t say anything, his mind seemingly preoccupied.

Finally, he speaks, “Are you really gonna go home, once we get there?”

You raise your eyebrows, “what does that mean, Ken?”

He gives your hand a squeeze like he doesn’t want to acknowledge this moment is going to end.

“You know exactly what I mean,” he says in a low tone, “Are you just going into your apartment and go to sleep, like usual? Or are you... gonna let me invite myself in?”

It always leads back to this after the cute meet ups.

Nanami's hands are all over you as soon as you’re inside. He backs you up against the wall without a word, his body pinning you against it as his lips find yours.

His kisses are slow but hungry, his tongue slipping into your mouth as his hands roam around your curves while slowly letting your coat drop on to the ground, and you huff out.

“You're getting my white coat dirty—”

"I'll buy you a new one,” he instantly responds his breath hot against your skin. “But right now, all I care about is you, and getting you out of these clothes.”

He groans as your fingers run through his hair, his body pressing against you further, desperate to close the tiny distance that’s between you.

“Stressed?” You pant softly, and his only response is a low growl, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he kisses you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth and making your head spin.

“You know I am,” he mutters gruffly in-between kisses.

It doesn't take long until your beneath him on your bed, taking his time worshipping your body—this time he notices how your arms cover your face just when his hands were sliding up and down your sides down to your stomach.

“I know what you're thinking,” he whispers, and the gentle tug at your arm makes you want to peek at him, “don't. Let me see you.” He gives your forehead a peck and you frown, he's being too loving.

“You don't have to take your time doing this, i can take it.”

“but i want to take my time with you.” He says bluntly, “do you not want me to?”

You shake your head, and a half smirk curls up his lips, “good.”

He noses right between your tits, giving them soft kisses which makes your teeth catch at your lower lip.

The minute the tip of his flushed cock nudges right into your cunt, pushing in, you both groan in relief.

Fuck was it a stretch even when you were just taking in his tip.

“Tell me if you don't want it anymore,” he reminds you, every single time.

Only when you nodded and wrapped your legs around his waist did he start to move, pulling out slowly before pushing back in while rolling one of your nipples to distract your fluttering walls from tightening too much around him.

He sets a gentle rhythm, each thrust deep and deliberate, taking his time, groaning as he watches his cock disappears into you before leaving you again and again.

Meanwhile you—you looked drunk on him, your worries pushed away as your head is rolling back and your ruined glossy lips part when he thrusts deeper into you.

“Nanam—” he squeezes your hip before kissing a mole from your body, “did you forget my name already?”

You pout, your fingers reaching to stroke his blond strands, “Kento,” you sigh breathlessly and his lips envelope yours—you’re even more breathless now.

“Ken—” you try speaking, only to be muffled by his passionate soft kisses that honestly just makes you feel a little bit loved.

He lifts your body a bit, his hands sliding down to take a feeling of your ass, giving them a squeeze before sliding up to the back of your thighs as he increases the pace of his rolling hips.

Was he fucking you or making love to you? There was definitely a difference between the two.

“Sweetheart,” the petname he only ever calls you in bed, it rings in your head, and it makes you clench tighter around him which makes him huff.

The rare raw feeling of his girth inside you makes you even warmer, you can almost feel every nerve throbbing and twitching. “i will pull out, don't worry—”

“No,” you stop him, and he seems confused.

“Cum inside.”

Bold.

“Oh, fuck me—” he pants before pressing your thighs down until your knees reach to your ears and you gasp when starts pounding into you like there was no tomorrow, you would stop him anyway if you felt uncomfortable, he trusted you on that.

But with you moaning and whining for release, he can only almost roll his eyes back as he holds it in for a minute just to get a more feeling of you.

“Kento, I'm not going to run—”

You don't know that, he doesn't know that. This is temporary, what if this was the last time you both get intimate together?

Oh, Kento would rather work overtime than end this.

“B-be my wife—” He almost whines when he comes right on the spot, the prettiest moans elicits from your throat as you cum with him, quite literally milking and squeezing every drop of his seed right inside you, making sure not to waste any.

And he's panting heavily into your neck, he's done for.

You stare down at his buried face onto your skin, noticing how his ears have gotten redder, “Ken, did i hear you right?”

He doesn't respond, and only rubs at your stomach slowly. Maybe… it's only a matter of time until it sticks, then this ’arrangement’ doesn't have to end.

[writerpeach]

A White Christmas

IVE An Yujin x Jang Wonyoung x m!reader

1153 words, semi-smutless but still 18+, unedited, just a little something short and sweet for Christmas

part 4 of annyeongz

It’s nearly midnight. 

The fireplace crackles on a cold Christmas Eve, but you’re not lacking in warmth one bit. With Wonyoung and Yujin snuggled up next to you, a warm mug of cocoa in your hands, and this gorgeous snowfall that doesn’t seem to have any end in sight,  you have everything you could ask for. There’s a marathon of cheesy movies playing in the background that’s gone mostly ignored—but you enjoy the cheesy, the clichés, and the overly-happy-ever-after endings, because sometimes a little bit of escapism hits the spot. 

Wonyoung seems completely fascinated by snow, like every snowstorm is the first one she’s ever seen. And there’s something so special about it, how the snowflakes stick to the window, slowly blanketing everything as the night carries on; there’s something so pure and innocent about the never-ending white flurries—not unlike these two pretty girls on either side of you, although certainly their purity has been in question at times. 

Yujin is more focused on the fireplace, her soft brown eyes watching intently while Wonyoung indulges in stealing little pecks from the side of your cheek, the corner of your mouth, wherever she can land kisses without you turning your head, whenever the inclination hits her. It’s not dissimilar the way the snowflakes coat the ground, falling here, falling there, and everywhere in between. 

“When are we opening presents?” Wonyoung asks out of nowhere, her bright eyes look up at you expectantly, as her plump lips look so inviting for another kiss that you can’t help dive into. 

You look at the time and cock an eyebrow; there’s still a few minutes left until the clock strikes midnight. Your finger runs along the rim of your warm mug, and it’s hard not wanting to oblige Wonyoung as you take a sip, because patience and her go together like oil and water. Despite your efforts, Wonyoung knows you’re weak for that adorable pouty face, and you can only fight it for so long, 

“When it’s Christmas,” Yujin pipes up, a smile spreading over her pretty lips. “But only good girls get presents…”

Watching the pout deepen on Wonyoung’s lips, you look around the room, at the stockings above the fireplace, and the presents underneath the tree that are mostly for you. (Because god, these girls are impossible to shop for when they can buy anything their heart desires.)

You can only imagine what’s in those wrapped boxes piled around the tree. Car keys? An expensive watch? A dozen different gift cards with an obscenely almost unlimited limit? There’s nothing that you really need, but you can’t deny these two another chance of spoiling you against your better judgment. 

“But I am a good girl. Right, daddy?” It doesn’t take long for you to share a laughter with Yujin, as if Wonyoung hasn’t behaved anything less than sinful.

“Pretty sure Santa is going to skip right on over this place then. After the way you were screaming daddy in the shower earlier...you might be on the naughty list forever, princess." Yujin smirks devilishly, and Wonyoung huffs out loud, like she’s been told Christmas is canceled.  

“Fine. Santa can’t give me what I want anyways. Only daddy can…” Wonyoung whines cutely, nuzzling her head against your shoulder and kisses into your neck. You hesitate giving any reaction, knowing all too well what she really wants. It isn’t under the tree, or in the stocking—

“Dear daddy, I want a big load on my face for Christmas.” Wonyoung says it all cute and pouty, which makes it even more absurd, but she does that on purpose, knowing that the innocent girl facade is her secret weapon to getting what she wants. You roll your eyes and set the warm mug down, as you know if this keeps up you’re not going to finish it. 

“But you get that every day. Sometimes more than once. It has to be something you don't get often," Yujin says. Wonyoung shoots a glare in her direction and looks offended that Yujin could ever suggest otherwise, as if she’s forgotten how regularly she’ll whine to get whatever she wants. 

“I didn’t get it yesterday. Daddy came inside Yujinnie. Twice. And I only got a taste. So that doesn't count. I need another big, creamy load for Christmas. An extra thick one.” 

Wonyoung makes this the most ludicrous request, as if she's asking for the last slice of cake. 

The thing is, Wonyoung is as insatiable as Yujin. There have been countless occasions where you've unloaded deep inside one of these two beauties and before you're even halfway recovered, the other starts tugging your dick back to hardness so she can have her turn. You know what they’re capable of, and that’s precisely the issue—

“Don’t be greedy on Christmas, princess,” Yujin warns, and the look on her face makes you shiver, even if you aren't even on the receiving end of that look. "Daddy can stuff your stocking later."

Wonyoung ignores it, of course, because she’s doing this bratty routine she’s done a thousand times, trying to get her way. There’s surprising restraint from Yujin, who’s always so eager to add fuel to the fire, as if it gets her off just to have Wonyoung push boundaries, because they both know they have you wrapped around their pretty little finger.

"But I've been so good. Haven't I, daddy? I sucked your dick this morning while you were still sleeping, until you came in my mouth... and when Yujin was riding you earlier in the kitchen, I waited so patiently until she was finished. And then I cleaned her all up when you came inside of her, daddy…” 

"Oh my god. Shut up," Yujin groans and leans in for a kiss to stop the whining. You look at the time—midnight has come and gone, and these two are already just going at it, swapping saliva right over your lap, and it’s better than anything that’ll fit under that tree. 

“Merry Christmas, daddy,” Yujin says and leans in to exchange kisses with you, parting her lips for this deep embrace that you get lost in far too easily. You’re too breathless to respond, because Yujin’s kisses always leave your head spinning in the best possible way. 

“Merry Christmas,” you say in return, as she gives one more lingering kiss, and you both know Wonyoung is right there waiting her turn, getting all whiny for attention. “Merry Christmas, princess.” 

You kiss Wonyoung, and it’s like you can taste Yujin on her lips, which makes it seem as if you’re kissing them both at the same time. Not that you have complaints about being caught in the middle of these two making out, because when you’re not swapping between their lips, you’re getting the best possible view. 

“So…presents?” Wonyoung asks, which makes Yujin giggle at how shameless she is, as she goes back to sealing those lips shut with another kiss. And you know that whatever happens in this room is going to end how it always does, with them both sharing you— 

And that is their ultimate Christmas gift.

---------

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays/Happy Monday!

Wanted to put out a little thing to end the year on, a little epilogue to the annyeongz series, something that wasn't a billion words long and didn't have a reliance of smut.

This year was a bit difficult, but I'm so thankful for everyone who continues to read, comment, send asks (even though im bad at answering), or just lurks on this mess of a blog 💞

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

TW: Internalized Homophobia / Transcript / AN under the cut

AN: Here we are, just one more post before we conclude part 1 of this bittersweet story. As I've mentioned before, this story consists of three parts- Part One - Youth | Part Two - Uni | Part Three - Wife.

Transcript

Nancy Narrates: [As a treat for the few students who stayed behind, the nuns took us into to the city to shop on Christmas Eve]

[It was the first time Vanessa and I spent alone time together since I started dating Geoffrey]

[I’ve never been happier]

Nancy: [blushes] What?

Vanessa: [whispers] Do you feel like we’re being watched?

Nancy: Oh, Sister Agnes? [gulps] She’s right behind me, isn’t she?

Vanessa: [laughs] I’m serious! Let’s ditch the group.

Nancy: And risk getting a mark? Or worse, sent back home?

Vanessa: [shudders] Having to spend the rest of the break with my father? No thanks. Guess I’ll behave myself- for now anyway.

Vanessa: Sooo, what did you get your boyfriend for Christmas? A thong? One of those string thingies for his glasses?

Nancy: [snorts] I got him a broach.

Vanessa: You’re fucking with me, right?

Nancy: What? It was really nice, and very expensive.

Vanessa: Sure, if he’s your grandfather, Nancy!

Nancy: [sheepishly] I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never had a boyfriend before. I don’t know if I’m even doing this right. Shouldn't it...feel like something?

Vanessa: What do you mean?

Nancy: Holding hands and kissing. I thought it was suppose to feel like fireworks, like everything is burning and achy. I only felt it once...the first time, at that party.

Vanessa: Oh.. [looks away] Maybe he just needs practice...

Nancy: Maybe... Vanessa, I wa-

Vanessa: Hey! Let’s get some hot cocoa!

Nancy Narrates: [I wish she knew how much I missed when it was just me and her]

[No matter what, she will always be the sun to me]

Vanessa: So, are you going to tell me what’s in those bags?

Nancy: Maybe you should Guess?

Vanessa: Very funny, Blondie. I thought we weren’t exchanging gifts?

Nancy: [pouts] Does that mean you didn’t get me anything?

Vanessa: That’s because we said we weren’t when we were shopping! I could have gotten you something!

Nancy: [chuckles] It’s ok! You really didn’t have to get me anything. I just wanted to get you something I think you’ll like alot.

Nancy: Ta-da! I wanted to officially welcome you into the League of Blondes.

Vanessa: [cackling] No fucking way! This is the best Christmas gift ever, are you kidding!! [digs through bag] What are the scissors for?

Nancy: I was hoping you’d cut my hair. We can both have a new look.

Vanessa: You’re full of surprises, Landgraab. Let’s do it!

Vanessa: You’re being sooo quiet but your thoughts are sooo loud. What are you thinking about right now?

Nancy: Sorry. It’s nothing...

Vanessa: Tell me. Please.

Nancy: No, it’s fine.

Vanessa: Come onnn, please?

Nancy: What happened with Angela?

Vanessa: [huffs] Ah. I was wondering when you’d ask about that.

Nancy: Then why didn’t you just tell me about her?

Vanessa: There’s nothing to talk about. Pretty sure you heard the story.

Nancy: Sure, from everyone else but not from you. I want to hear your side.

Vanessa: [sighs] My side. We were best friends. We did everything together. I loved her a lot. All eyes were on us... so, I guess that’s how everyone noticed how close we were. People were saying things about us, and I was scared my father would find out and think I was like that. So, I turned on her. I called her names. I shunned her. I ruined her life...

Vanessa: It got so bad that she left the school. I never heard from her again. [voice cracks] You have to understand... if my father thought I liked girls, he would kill me. I could never let anyone think I’m like that! I’d rather they all thought I slept around with all the boys in school than think that. I had to do it...

Nancy: Do you?

Vanessa: [sobs] W-what?

Nancy Narrates: [My heart was racing. It just slipped out. And then I said it again, and that time, it felt like I was asking myself]

Nancy: Do you like girls?

Vanessa: [whimpers] I...no!! I’m not...I’m not a lesbian! I swear, Nancy! Please, believe me.

Nancy Narrates: [All that time...I had thought I was the one terrified of what it meant to love her. She was terrified of loving me too]

[This is what kissing should feel like]

Vanessa: [softly] Will you stay in my room tonight?

Nancy: Yes.

Nancy Narrates: [I had so many questions I wanted to ask her. So many things about myself I wanted to share, but there was one thing I wanted more]

[shares-a-vest]

@steddiemas Day 16: Angst-Themed (Saturday Sentence Starters)

wc: 1k | Rated: T | cw: Steve’s parents are arguing (he is overhearing it briefly but there are some descriptions of yelling), toxic family dynamics, unstable marriage, cheating

Tags: Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unstable Marriage, Toxic Family Dynamics, Cheating

“I don’t want to fight with you, Caroline,” Steve hears his father bellow from downstairs, “Not tonight.”

He snaps his comic closed and tosses it on the floor.

Steve has no idea what his parents are arguing about. Hell, they don’t even need an excuse these days, he thinks. Someone can so much as fart and it will start a goddamn screaming match.

He guesses he shouldn’t be surprised. It’s the holidays and his parents are both off work until the beginning of the New Year. It’s snowing heavy out so they can’t go down to the Martens’ house – their best friends-come-buffer zones.

“Oh, John!” his mother chides before there is a lower muffle that he can’t quite make out.

While being hard of hearing allows him not to hear anything below a shout, the broken argument is still frustrating.

His parents might not need an excuse to fight, but he’d still like to know what it’s about. Gain intel for the inevitable coming days of being stuck in the middle.

Steve has a few guesses as to what it could be.

His mother bought a new car with her Christmas bonus finally topping up her bank account and thus justifying an indulgent and expensive purchase. His father always hates that.

Steve smirks.

If his father didn’t like that kind of independence, why did he marry a high-paid lawyer?

But, the more likely scenario considering his father’s apparent insistence he ‘doesn’t want to fight’ is that he is cheating again.

Cindy, his secretary, or someone new – take your pick.

The telltale signs have been there for a month or two. A renewed cheery attitude, longer office hours, a fresh haircut and new clothes.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, it might be a little bit of a motivator behind his mother’s car purchase too – 

“ – Cindy!” his mother shrieks.

Yep, there it is.

Steve rolls off the bed, planting his feet on the carpet right by his shoes.

“Fuck this,” he mutters, scooping up his keys and wallet from the nightstand.

He’s just about halfway to Forest Hills, driving at a snail’s pace because he can’t see for snow, when he begins to regret his decision to leave the house.

Maybe he shouldn’t just barge in on the Munsons unannounced. Like sure, his friendship with Eddie is… teetering on not being entirely platonic. But this might be too much.

He always thought it was too much when he’d walk down to stay at Carol Perkins’ house for an impromptu sleepover. And there was always this awkward, knowing going on with the Wheeler’s when he was dating Nancy and spending a lot of time just hanging about.

Lingering for too long in the kitchen chatting to Karen or watching a game with Ted until the guy started snoring too loud to hear the commentators.

It was all there but largely unspoken.

Only Robin knows the details. And even then, he’s sure that her father’s friendliness towards him was partly due to his daughter telling him all about the trouble at the ‘ol Harrington house. He doesn’t blame his best friend for likely doing so. And he doesn’t consider it blabbing, either. Robin’s parents – her whole family – are amazing.

But some of his parent’s shit is stupid at best, hard to take at worst.

And he is scared to let Eddie in on it.

It’s too much.

He’s too much.

Being a Harrington is too much.

Wayne answers the door with a cup of cocoa that seems glued to his left hand in winter.

“Steve,” he says, voice gruff as ever despite a warm smile.

“Hi,” he replies, looking down at his snow-covered boots, “Eddie in?”

Of course, he’s in, his van is parked outside.

Steve can feel the warmth from inside the trailer. See the twinkle of lights from the Munson’s small, but heavily-decorated, Christmas tree. The smell of cocoa overpowering the ever-present hint of cigarettes.

“Eddie!” Wayne calls over his shoulder, “Steve’s here.”

In a flash, Eddie runs to the front door and practically bumps into his uncle.

“Come in!” he insists, wide-eyed as he looks past his shoulder at the falling snow.

And before Steve can even step in, Eddie is pulling him by his parka sleeve. He only just manages to scrape off his boots on the ‘Home Sweet Home’ adorned welcome mat.

“What some cocoa?” Eddie offers, eliciting a grumble from Wayne.

“I asked if you wanted some,” he chides.

“But Steve might want some,” Eddie grins.

“How about I heat up a pot now, and whoever wants some’s got it?” Wayne suggests, pursing his lips at Eddie and moving to the stove before his nephew can make any more requests.

“Follow me,” Eddie says, grabbing his hand, “I made cookies.”

He wiggles his brows and begins leading Steve to the kitchen.

As he is pulled along, Steve tries not to think about the fact that they are holding hands. Or how he wishes his fifteen-minute-ago Self had thought to bring an overnight bag and allowed himself to assume the Munsons would allow him to stay the night.

But it might be even harder to stop himself from squeezing his friend’s hand and lacing his fingers with Eddie’s.

Eddie lets go of his hand to gesture to the tray of Christmas-themed shapes, all looking a little too dark for gingerbread as they rest on the kitchen island.

“Pick one, Big Boy,” Eddie beams.

Steve reaches for a reindeer, flexing his fingers as he goes and commits the feeling of Eddie’s rings to memory.

“No!” Eddie shrieks, lightly smacking his hand enough that he drops it, leaving the cookie to snap in half as it falls back onto the tray, “His antlers are broken.”

“Christ, boy!” Wayne curses, stirring the pot on the stovetop.

Okay, a tree then…

“The star is missing!”

A bell?

“That was already snapped in half when I got them out of the oven”, Eddie admits with a tight-lipped smile.

Steve places his hands on his hips and rolls his eyes. To him, they all look at least a little crumbly – some he would even describe as lightly charred.

“How about you pick one for me then, Betty Crocker?” he chuckles.

Eddie giggles, twirling a lock of his hair as he carefully considers the tray of mostly broken, dry cookies.

He watches Eddie for a long enough time that Wayne pushes a mug into his hand, the warmth of Eddie’s hand remaining in place due to the heat of the cocoa. It’s a Chicago Cubs mug, one that he finds himself holding at some point each time he is here as if Wayne considers it Steve’s own.

He smiles for the first time in three days.

[duc-kie]

Hiiiii, can you write how Lando would react if you were oberworking yourself? Can do sfw/nsfw (I dont mind 🤫) and maybe like a hcs or oneshot, whatevers easier. Lovess 💋💋

honesty as a perfectionist I overwork myself A LOT especially in school so I absolutely adored writing this request - and bc it’s Lando ofc🤭

I decided to do hcs and include sfw as well as nsfw (⭐️). this turned out to be longer than I anticipated but I’m definitely not complaining.

hope you enjoy xx

---------------------------------------------------------

• Lando knows what it feels like to overwork yourself so he knows exactly how to make you feel better.

• (depending on your preferences) he’d make you a hot bubble bath with tons of candles to light the room. he’d spread rose petals all over the bathroom. he’d even buy you a ton of skincare stuff: face masks, lip masks, eye patches etc. and your favourite snacks and drinks. he’d set up your favourite movie on a laptop and put it next to the bath. he’d get in the bath with you if you wanted him to.

⭐️the bathing together would quickly turn into passionate little touches and kisses on your neck and shoulders. his hands would delicately run up and down your sides. when you completely give in and lean back to lay on his shoulder and close your eyes, his big hands start slowly massaging you tits. heavy breaths and quiet little moans and whimpers leave your mouth and your boyfriend is making you forget about all the stress your mind was filled with before. this slow and sensual touches soon enough turn into you riding him in the bath with him guiding you with his hands on your hips.

• or he’d clear his schedule and plan out a whole day for you two to enjoy. he’d take you to do your favourite activities like ice skating or horseback riding or just whatever he knew you liked and then he’d take you shopping. he would buy anything you wanted for you no matter how expensive it was. afterwards he’d take you to a restaurant and enjoy a fancy dinner date with only you. it’s no surprise when he pulls out a little velvet box with a pink bow on it just for you to open it and see a gorgeous necklace inside. after the dinner you were beaming with happiness when you sat in his car to go back home. the whole drive you kept telling him how amazing this day was and how grateful you are for everything he’s done for you.

⭐️Lando could barely keep his eyes on the road when you were sitting right next to him with such big eyes and a short dress that fit your body perfectly. the dress has been distracting Lando the whole day and all he could think about was taking it off. he reached his hand to rest it on your thigh. he was slowly massaging your smooth skin, working his way up your leg. you quickly figured out what he was trying to do and the bulge in his pants was impossible to miss. you decided to tease him a little because why not, this was a perfect opportunity for you to have some fun. your hand made it’s way to his bulge. you were barely touching it and you could see the look of annoyance on Lando's face. when you squeezed the bulge his eyes went blank. he immediately pulled over and undid his seatbelt, getting out of the car. he opened your door, undid your seatbelt as well and and guided you out of the car. in just a second you were bent over his car with your panties at your ankles while he was pounding into you with such desire. his cold hands on your back and the hot kisses on your shoulders tipped you over the edge sooner than you thought. it didn't take him long to do the same, filling you up. he turned you around and proudly watched his cum drip down your legs from below the dress.

• classic: a movie night. he’d go to the store and buy tons of snacks, drinks, and face masks for the two of you. he’d put on your favourite movie and prepare the blankets and the hot cocoa. you two would cuddle the whole night watching the movie with face masks, drinking hot cocoa and eating chocolate covered strawberries.

⭐️half way into the movie a sex scene comes on. it was brief but long enough to make you turn around to look at Lando. he looked back at you with a smirk and kissed you. he repositioned you to sit on his lap before shoving his tongue down your throat. you’ve both completely forgotten the movie by now. you pulled away to catch your breath and Lando was quick to take the opportunity and turn you around so that he was on top of you. he took his sweet time taking your clothes off while making sure to kiss and touch all of the sweet spots he knew drove you crazy. "Lando, please" you pleaded. he lightly laughed and moved on to strip himself. he got a condom out of his bedside drawer and slid it on. he entered you with a sharp breath, moving his hips slowly. one of his hands pinned your hands above your head while the other held you still by the waist. his movements quickened over time. after you both finished you collapsed in each others arms and fell asleep.

[generational-atrophy]

hetalia axis & allies (+ canada) xmas headcanons

1.6k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: uhhh christmas obviously. mention of religion and underwear?? uh... i think that's it

a/n: this is my first christmas as a jewish convert so that's been weird. anyway I just wanted something quick, so its mostly a list of gift ideas (:

America

Alfred is SUCH a huge Christmas fan. I mean, canonically he dresses up as Santa, so he goes all out for the entire month of December. He's been working on a huge holiday home display for decades, and it shows.

He plays Santa at his local mall during the weeks leading up to Christmas; and on the night of, he hands out hot cocoa outside his house. It's fun, but it also means he's a little distracted when it comes to you.

What he would get you: Posters of your favourite movies, super comfy pyjamas, expensive figures of characters you like, candy you like but never get for yourself, model planes or Legos for you two to build together, novelty pens, a stupid cowboy costume so you can match <3, those handmade coupons because he 1. Loves you and 2. Forgot about Christmas until yesterday

What he would want: Any video games, Funko Pops, vinyls of music he likes, those big packs of shirts (he is constantly running out of shirts because he rips or irreparably stains them,) Marvel comics, anything with an eagle on it, those mini wacky waving inflatable tube men things, bulk pens and pencils because he also breaks those constantly-

England

Arthur is not big into Christmas and never has been. He'll celebrate with you, but he's not going out when it comes to any aspect. If anything, he finds it a little exhausting getting gifts for everyone

But, he does adore walking around and looking at all the lights. He'll do that a couple times with you in December.

What he would get you: Any novel you’ve mentioned even once, tickets to a concert both of you will enjoy, classy jackets that fit you perfectly, cute keychains, fancy art supplies, fragrances that remind him of you, bags/purses that fit your style, CDs

What he would want: Sewing supplies (thread, new needles, new fabric scissors,) framed photos of the two of you, Doctor Who merch, foreign tea, a book on how to take care of your eyebrows properly (he will not learn otherwise,) slippers, those sarcastic magnets that all millennial women have at least one of, any ridiculous piece of merch with the union jack on it

France

Francis has very mixed feelings about Christmas. On one hand, he hates how consumerist it has become, but on the other hand, nothing makes him happier than seeing the joy the season brings to others.

Plus, he does enjoy giving and receiving presents. The music too? Wonderful. As long as you don't get too stressed out, the holiday should be perfect.

What he would get you: Tons of clothes; stuff that's already your style, and completely new stuff, room decorations (NOT posters,) a reservation at a nice restaurant, bracelets that he made for you, makeup (if you like that kind of thing,) candles that smell like his cologne, CHEESE

What he would want: Fancy fabric, any clothes (he doesn’t care what they are as long as you think they’d look good on him…) paintings or photography, literally ANYTHING creative you’ve made, hair ties (he loses at least 5 a day,) bird stuffed animals, (Basically anything! Francis is not picky)

China

Christmas is a new occurrence for Yao, and he isn't the biggest fan. He'll buy you stuff for it, but he would do that normally. The lights and the music aren't anything special to him either. Basically, he won't celebrate unless you want to.

What he would get you: Elaborate, very expensive jewellery, huge stuff like a car, Chinese cookbooks, traditional clothes that he made specifically to represent you (: luxury handbags (that he got at SUCH a good discount,) tons of weird off-brand merch of your favourite show, probably a nice meal too!

What he would want: Yao is hard to buy for. Soft robes, stuff to help with back pain, face masks, Hello Kitty keychains… reading glasses maybe?

Russia

Although he isn't as excited about Christmas as he is about the New Year, he still loves the holiday. It's a nice excuse to see family, and everyone is just so happy around the season! He's especially excited to celebrate it with you.

He's not the best at giving gifts, but he could be worse. Regardless of whether you like all of it, you're gonna get a lot of stuff.

(Also, he plays Santa for the kids sometimes. It's so cute-)

What he would get you: Random knick-knacks he probably found at a local market, knitted hats and gloves in your favourite colour, a scarf to match his, tickets to go somewhere warm on vacation, stuffed animals! books that made him think of you (usually philosophical or religious novels,) pretty rocks (:

What he would want: SUNFLOWERS! (This works for every occasion,) baked goods, clothes that aren’t 250 years old- new doilies and paintings to decorate his house, pictures of yourself, friendship bracelets, stuffed animals, if you can make a scarf somehow, DO THAT

North Italy

Feliciano cares about Christmas in a more religious way, but he's never mad about getting presents. So, he'll probably spend most of the day in church, but he still did put a lot of effort into getting you stuff you love.

What he would get you: Pajamas & bath robes, shitty romance novels that he wants you to read, weird hand-made knick-knacks, makeup, strange mugs that he found at a thrift store, a painting of you (: probably a pair of his boxers-

What he would want: New paint brushes, novelty pasta shapes, fancy jackets, any art that you’ve made (regardless of quality,) cat stuffed animals, The Ability To Get A Grip, skincare products, shiny garbage (For art purposes, duh,) those handmade coupon things

Germany

Ludwig does not enjoy Christmas particularly. He's terrible at giving gifts but he wants to so desperately that he spends all of winter stressing out about it. Yes, he's excited to see your reaction to his gifts, but at what cost?!

Although he does still like all the decorations at least. Maybe he just likes re-decorating though.

What he would get you: Puzzles you can complete together, soft sweaters, practical stuff you need (like book bags, lens cloths, that kind of thing,) stationery, reservations for private tours at museums you would find interesting, a subscription to whatever silly service you want (:

What he would want: Books about city planning, nerdy card games, a fun lanyard, a new coffee machine, those aroma-therapy diffuser things, household tools like vacuums and stuff (Get him an air fryer. He’s going to be fascinated.) stress balls, pens (He is boring.)

Japan

Kiku really has no particular feelings towards Christmas. If you weren't there, the most he would do was put up a mini tree. He's stressed out by both giving and receiving presents and is only willing to do that kind of thing if you want to.

What he would get you: Electronics, merch of your favourite Sanrio character, books that he thinks you’ll like, stickers, a bento box, comfy sweatpants, cute hairpins, plushies from your favourite media, a bunch of pillows, some obscure Japanese snacks too!

What he would want: Miku figures, posters, video games, manga, general nerdy stuff, history novels (he likes to correct them,) blackout curtains, cute face masks, a Polaroid camera, a guide on socialization (Seriously.) a knit scarf, if you can knit (:

South Italy

Romano desperately wants to care about Jesus more than getting gifts. He's a devout catholic, g*ddamnit! But... he does just really love eating baked goods and getting gifts more than anything. Getting together with family, the music, the lights, he just ADORES the holiday.

What he would get you: Blankets and pillows, your favourite snacks, clothes that are a little more revealing- cruise tickets (if going on wouldn’t be hell for you,) a journal where he wrote down all of the things he loves about you (completely honestly,) religious items, fancy perfumes

What he would want: Paintings from local artists, post-its (so he can finally remember SOMETHING,) anything with the Italian flag on it, stupid bumper stickers, pictures of the other nations that you’ve written insults on, fancy patterned scarves and fabric

Prussia

Like Alfred, Gilbert loves Christmas in a very childish way. He embraces that side of himself during the holidays and he'd love it if you joined him in that. He constantly insists on going out to see the lights, and he just can't get enough of Christmas movies. Even the bad ones (He's a Hallmark girlie.)

What he would get you: A vintage music box, hair dye, DVDs of your favourite movies (just to have,) stationery, random snacks he picked up from a gas station an hour ago, weirdly sentimental jewellery? Vintage journals, pictures of himself

What he would want: Coupons (???) goofy temporary tattoos, metal CDs, tea (he’s weirdly embarrassed about liking tea and doesn’t buy it for himself?) vintage maps that he can frame and hang up, probably like, WD40? DC comics, novelty trophies, Pokemon cards, video games

Canada

More than anything, Matthew loves winter. So, therefore, he loves Christmas! Seeing you smile when you open your gifts, he looks forward to it all season. It seems like the only time of year when everyone else is either as miserable or as happy as he is, so it's his favourite holiday.

Cuddling up in front of the fireplace with hot cocoa, watching some old Christmas movie, its all he wants.

What he would get you: Comfy hoodies, comfy slippers too, hot cocoa packs, big stuff like a new PC or fridge or smth- decorations for your room, face masks, fidget toys, novelty Canadian keychains, figures of your favourite characters, festive sweets (like candy-canes and stuff.)

What he would want: Anything with a maple leaf (yes, he wants MORE of that,) boring stuff like socks, wood-working tools or like a new snow shovel, fairy lights, DVDs (because he still uses them? Why.) a new phone case, gift cards (HES BORING,) pre-packaged crafts, lotion and cologne that smells like pine

merry christmas if you celebrate! this'll probably be the last full thing I post until 2024, so thanks to all you readers for sticking around this year (: you have no idea how much it means to me. i love yall. and to all a good night or whatever santa said

[wormdevourer]

I’m bored out of my mind rn so I’m writing these >:)

𝓗𝓢𝓡 𝓗𝓔𝓐𝓓𝓒𝓐𝓝𝓞𝓝𝓢

𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙳𝙴

-loves warm things in the winter, like blankets and hot cocoa

-secretly enjoys watching cheesy movies

-doesn’t see the point in technology (but he’ll gladly play games with Silver Wolf if his hand stops hurting)

-he acts like he doesn’t like touch, but he’s actually very touch-starved,,, bro just wants a hug :(

-styles his hair in his room and never tells anyone (like a ponytail or a bun…)

-I feel like he would like v flower idk why

-despises pop music

-listens to murder mystery podcasts to cheer himself up

𝚂𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙰𝚈

-loves to play the piano and violin

-on that note, loves classical music

-he and robin do karaoke a lot (she gets him to sing taylor swift songs, and her own songs)

-loves honey and tea (loves honey in his tea, too)

-lowkey reminds me of aqua from oshi no ko

-has trouble focusing/sitting still (that refined persona is not fooling anyone, son)

-spends a lot of money on keeping his hair perfect

-he’s kinda scared to get older :(

𝙱𝙾𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙻

-obviously he’s obsessed with cowboy movies

-if something isn’t colored red, black, or gray, he won’t wear it

-would let you braid his hair

-does crazy dangerous stunts during missions because ‘they can’t hurt me, I’m a fudgin’ cyborg!’ 💀

-loves indiana jones movies

-would go to the mall w dan heng

-if you ever showed him the grand canyon he’d incessantly beg to go there (idk why I just get the vibes 💀)

-yeeeeeeehaw

𝙰𝚅𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙴

-very protective

-lets you brush his hair

-always smells good (it’s that expensive perfume)

-gives you his coat when you’re cold (cheesy but I feel like he would lmao)

-when he’s bored at work he watches internet dramas play out

-would totally call his friends ‘girlypop’

-‘fuh-riend’

-really really really loves sleepovers (especially the pillow forts and the painting each others’ nails)

who should I write about next?? >:3

[theostrophywife]

the christmas special | the slytherin boys.

author's note: a cute collection of christmas activities that each of the boys would do with you. consider this as my gift to all of you. merry christmas pookies ✨

BLAISE

during first year, you and blaise established a tradition of pranking your friends with elf on a shelf.

some of your most notable accomplishments were: placing your little elf friend on all of the cigarette butts that theo had a horrible habit of littering with and placing it on his desk while the elf smoked one of his fancy expensive italian cigs that he saves for special occasions.

for mattheo, blaise took an action figure and smeared it in red food dye to commemorate all of the fights he seemed to get himself into.

for draco, you slipped a tiny amount of purple dye in his shampoo which turned his hair lavender for an entire week.

for enzo, blaise ransacked his honeydukes stash and left a mountain of wrappers on his bed.

for regulus, you replaced his sleakeasy potion with plain old water, which made his pretty curls frizz up like he'd been electrocuted.

neither one of you were stupid enough to prank tom. that was a one way ticket to an avada.

this year, though, blaise flipped the game on you.

you woke up in your dorm surrounded by flowers and balloons with the elf sitting at the edge of your bed, holding a note that said: call me a christmas, because i'm already wrapped up in you — b.

you chuckled as you read the note. your door swung open, revealing a grinning blaise.

"i thought you might like that one. i have plenty of others, though."

"is that so, zabini? well, let's hear them then."

"are you a christmas tree? because I’m really pining fir you."

"wanna feel my ugly christmas sweater? it's made out of boyfriend material."

you burst into a fit of laughter, making blaise grin. "and my personal favorite, the star may be on top of the tree but you can be the star on top of me."

"blaize zabini, you are ridiculously adorable."

"yeah? did my efforts work then? wanna grab some hot cocoa with your favorite person?"

"oh? is draco free?" you chuckled at the sight of blaise's frown. "i'm kidding, blaise. now come on, i need a sweet treat. besides you, of course."

DRACO

draco was ridiculously competitive, which was a trait that you usually found endearing in your boyfriend, but he was definitely taking this gingerbread house competition to another level.

you had never seen draco so concentrated, measuring each piece with his wand and spreading the icing with such careful precision.

"we're going to win this year, I just know it." he said, his pink tongue poking out of the side of his mouth as he secured the roof over your gingerbread house.

"it's not about winning, babe. it's about having fun!"

"fun?" draco asked incredelously. "no, darling, this is about crushing riddle underneath my boot, which I suppose is my own version of fun."

"oi! I heard that malfoy," mattheo complained.

"sorry matty, dray's gone full psycho." you teased, pinching your boyfriend's cheek. "I think it's rather cute though."

"you'd be the only one," theo said with an eye roll.

"don't hate, nott. where's your house anyways?"

theo shrugged while mattheo snorted. "notty boy here got too high and ate the entire thing."

you chuckled. "well, that's less competition for you and I, dray."

"good," draco said with a pleased smile. "now come on, darling. I want you to put on the finishing touch."

you nodded, taking the gumdrops from your boyfriend's hands and sticking them around the perimeter of the house. draco surveyed your hard work, really the only work he let you do since he was so adamant on building the entire thing from scratch.

"it's perfect, love."

"blimey," enzo said, cocking his head at the house. "you two really went all out this year."

tom scoffed. "it's architecturally inaccurate."

you rolled your eyes at the older riddle. "well, we couldn't exactly replicate everything, but i'd say dray did a fantastic job on his house."

"our house, darling," draco corrected. "or at least it will be soon enough."

"is that malfoy manor?" regulus asked.

"precisely," draco confirmed with a proud smile. he looped an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss against your cheek. "and i've got the future lady of the manor right by my side."

you giggled, leaning into your boyfriend's touch. "lady of the manor? hmm, I like the sound of that, dray."

ENZO

every year, enzo looked forward to ice skating on the frozen banks of the black lake.

he was terrible at it, but it only made it that much more endearing.

you remembered the first time he dragged you out into the cold during first year, talking your ear off about how excited he was for this time of year.

along with you and enzo, the rest of your friends joined in on the fun. mattheo and theo were absolute menaces on ice, while regulus and draco made a whole competition out of it. pansy and blaise were content to watch in the safety of their enchanted tent, sipping hot chocolate in peace.

over the years, enzo had gotten a little bit better, but he was still a little shaky on the ice. he never minded though since you were always there to hold his hand while you patiently skated around the rink with him at a glacial pace.

you weren't that great at skating either. or so he thought.

until the two of you were chatting, keeping to the makeshift wooden rails at the edge of the lake, when mattheo and theo came barreling past.

"watch out, y/n!"

you clocked the two menaces skating past you at full speed and made a rather complicated maneuver that enzo couldn't have even dreamed of landing.

"oh my god," enzo exclaimed. "are you alright? and what was that? that little twirl and land combo? I thought you couldn't skate, honey."

you smiled sheepishly, cheeks warming at enzo's nickname for you. "it's called an axel jump. I may have told a little fib when I said I couldn't skate..."

"I can see that, love," enzo said with a chuckle. "why would you pretend that you couldn't skate?"

"I didn't want you to feel left out," you admitted shyly. "the boys are always showing off and I don't know, it was kind of nice just to take it slow with you."

"you did that for me?" enzo asked as a grin spread across his face. "i like taking it slow with you too, y/n. I look forward to it every year."

"and here I thought you just really liked the ice and snow."

"are you kidding? I hate the cold," enzo replied, shivering. "but I like when you old my hand and lead me around the rink. and I also like it when you make us hot cocoa with extra marshmallows after. I just like you, honey."

you beamed. "I like you too, enz."

enzo smiled in return, kissing the tip of your frost kissed nose. "now come on, love. show me that move again. it was hot."

MATTHEO

"babe, we're supposed to decorate the cookies not eat them all," you teased, snatching a snow shaped cookie out of your boyfriend's hands.

"but they taste so good," mattheo said with a pout. he flashed his big, brown eyes at you, fishing for sympathy. "you know I can't resist sweet things. why do you think i'm dating you?"

you chuckled at his cheekiness. "nice try, matty. but we have to decorate the cookies first and then you can have a bite."

"oh, i'll have a bite alright," you squealed as he tugged you flush against him, pulling you in for a not so innocent kiss. "there. that should hold me over for a few minutes. at least, long enough to decorate."

you shook your head and handed him the cookies and icing. mattheo hummed, bumping against your hip every so often as the two of you began decorating.

despite his complaints, mattheo's cookies turned out way better than yours.

"how are you doing that?" you asked, staring at the perfect piping on his snowflake.

"it's easy, princess. here, let me show you." mattheo slotted himself behind you, his big hands enveloping yours as he attempted to guide you in replicating his design.

"real smooth, matty. this is just an excuse to wrap your arms around me, isn't it?"

"hmm, no i'm genuinely trying to help."

you raised a brow, backing against his crotch. matty released a low groan. "is that a candy cane or are you just happy to see me, baby?"

"all i'm saying is that i'm more than happy to give you a white christmas, princess."

with a giggle, you turned around and pulled him down to you by the front of his cheesy christmas sweater. his lips met yours in an eager kiss, sighing softly into your mouth. as the sweet taste of icing coated your tongue, you chuckled.

"really, baby? you didn't even last a half hour before sneaking a taste."

"you're lucky I haven't bent you over this table yet, mi amor." his low, husky voice sent shivers down your spine.

"on second thought, i'm not opposed to having that sweet treat a little early."

mattheo smirked. those big, brown eyes were nearly black as he lifted you onto the counter, big hands roaming underneath your sweater as his lips attached themselves to your neck.

"I was hoping you'd say that, my little snowflake." you squealed as he pulled you towards him, smirking as he knelt before you. “let’s put you on the naughty list tonight, y/n.”

“I don’t mind, matty. I know you’ll make me feel real nice.”

“damn right, baby.”

REGULUS

you and regulus had not planned on getting this drunk.

the game plan was to tackle decorating the common room with ample snacks, spiked eggnog, and a classic christmas playlist.

you hadn't accounted for reggie's heavy hand when it came to making drinks.

"how much rum did you put in this thing, reg?" you asked between giggles, wrapping tinsel around yourself like a makeshift scarf. "i'm really feeling it now and we're only halfway done."

"hmm, dunno, I kind of just eyeballed it." regulus responded, dangling two emerald ornaments through his ears. "I also may have nicked the bottle from malfoy. he's going to throw an absolute fit when he finds out."

"my father will hear about this!" you exclaimed, repeating draco's iconic line. "how dare you put your peasant lips on my vintage rum?"

regulus snickered, clutching his sides. "don't make me laugh, love. i'm already smashed enough as it is."

"honestly, that's what they get for making us decorate all by ourselves."

"hmm, I don't mind. at least I got to spend more time with you."

you chuckled. "we're already attached at the hip as it is."

regulus raised a brow, pulling you in by your wrist. he stood to his full height and spun you around in a circle before catching you in his arms. "are you trying to say you're tired of me, ma chérie?"

"never. you know you're my favorite person, reggie."

"you're my favorite, too." regulus murmured, his green eyes softening as he swayed. music played softly in the background as he pulled you closer. "dance with me?"

you giggled. "we're smashed, reggie. what if I trudge on your toes?"

"you do that sober anyways," regulus teased. "just humor me, please, y/n?"

you nodded, smiling softly as regulus led you into a waltz. despite his drunkenness, reggie was still the elegant dancer that he always was. it was in that aristocratic black blood, you supposed.

as you swayed in his arms, regulus pressed his forehead against yours, his pretty curls tickling your nose as he smiled. "tu es l'amour de ma vie."

"what does that mean, reg?"

"it means that there's no one else i'd rather get drunk and decorate with besides you. merry christmas, y/n."

you beamed, rising to your tiptoes and kissing his nose. "merry christmas, reggie."

THEO

playing white elephant with your friends was chaotic, to say the least. the annual tradition almost always ended in tears and sometimes even blood.

this time around, you were the one most likely to draw blood.

"that's not fair!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms and glaring at draco. "you only want the heated blanket because I want it. you probably have a thousand fur throws, malfoy!"

draco smirked as he wrapped the white, fluffy blanket around his shoulders. "yes, but I stole this one. from you. that makes it special."

the shit-eating grin he flashed at you was enough to push you over the edge. "i'm going to skin you, you little ferret. give me back my blanket—"

"oh no you don't, dolcezza." a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist and held you back from lunging at draco. theo hauled you over his shoulder and set you down on the sofa.

"don't manhandle me, teddy!"

theo bit back a grin as you huffed in indignation. he knelt before you, tapping your nose. "you're being bad, little missy. i'm putting you in time out."

"i'm not a child!" you responded, frowning at your best friend. "besides, draco started it. he stole my bloody blanket!"

"yes, but that's no excuse for violence, is it bella?"

"theodore, you literally bit enzo for taking your gift last year."

"I never claimed to be perfect."

you rolled your eyes, which only made theo chuckle. "tell you what. if you promise not to maim malfoy, i'll buy you as many heated blankets as you want." you raised a brow, clearly unimpressed with the offer. "i'll even throw in some hot chocolate and cuddles. the complete teddy package. sound good?"

"okay," you said with a sigh. "but only cause you asked nicely."

theo smiled and kissed your forehead. "good girl. now come on, pans made spiked eggnog."

thirty minutes later, you were curled up on the sofa with theo. you yawned, blinking slowly at whatever mattheo was supposed to be enacting for christmas charade. he was either doing something very vulgar or riding a sleigh. you could never really tell with matty.

"getting sleepy, bella?" theo asked, poking his nose against yours.

"mhm," you murmured, burrowing yourself into theo's neck. he smelled like cigarettes and pine. "will you carry me to bed, teddy?"

"course," theo replied as he kissed your temple. "don't you want to bring your blanket, though?"

you blinked in confusion, but smiled when theo presented you with the fluffy, white heated blanket. "you got it back for me?"

"draco and I made a deal," theo confirmed as he wrapped the blanket around your shoulders.

"threatening to throw me off of the astronomy tower if I don't give you the blanket does not constitute as a deal, theodore," malfoy said with a frown.

theo waved him off as he scooped you into his arms. "the important thing is, you've got your blanket back."

you wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled. "you're the best, teddy."

"anything for you, tesoro." theo murmured softly as he climbed up the stairs with you in his arms.

"wait!" mattheo exclaimed. "you're under the mistletoe." he pointed to the small sprig hanging atop the alcove you were currently under. "that means you two have to kiss."

theo flushed, his gaze dropping to your lips as he shifted nervously. "we don't have to, bella—" the words died in his throat as you tugged at the front of his sweater, dragging his lips down to yours.

the kiss was soft and sweet and you melted into theo like the missing piece of a puzzle finally slotting into place after years and years of pining and yearning.

you smiled as theo blinked slowly, those pretty eyes brimming with love and adoration. "you—I—wow," he breathed.

"c'mon, teddy. you promised me cuddles." you chuckled, brushing your thumb over his lips. "and kisses too?"

theo grinned. "kisses too, amorina."

TOM

tom had never really been a big fan of the holidays.

he certainly had no interest in taking part in something as childish as secret santa.

yet the second he heard that you were participating, tom was suddenly the first one to toss his name in the ring.

by luck of the draw (he threatened enzo who was the one to actually pick your name to switch), tom got you this year and even he had to admit that he was excited to exchange gifts.

the annual slytherin christmas party was the usual sensory nighmare of tom's dreams, but he soldiered through the incessant chattering, itchy wool jumper, and heavy handed spiked hot chocolate. all because of you.

"are you having fun, pumpkin?"

tom's brow quirked at the nickname, but made no protest as you sidled up next to him. on anyone else, the red velvet dress with white fur trim, ornament earrings, and christmas lights necklace would've looked tacky, but for some reason, tom found it quite endearing on you.

"it's not horrible," tom conceded.

"not horrible? why, thomas, that's almost a compliment."

"don't push your luck, doll."

you chuckled as you looped your arm through his. "wouldn't dream of it," you responded cheekily. "now come tommy, it's time for secret santa."

tom watched as the rest of the group exchanged gifts. more accurately, he watched you clap and cheer at every gift that youy friends opened. the look of genuine joy on your face was almost cracked a smile out of him.

he supposed it wasn't such a terrible thing to endure.

"your turn, y/n," pansy said.

all eyes were on you as you took your gift from the pile, carefully unwrapping the pretty green and silver paper. tom fought the urge to grin as you took the black silk ribbon off of the box and tied your hair back with it.

you pulled out the first gift, which was a set of fresh coloured inkpots from france that you religiously used to write your notes with.

"oh my god, these are my favorite! and I just ran out too," you exclaimed excitedly.

the next gift were a pair of the high heeled boots tom had caught you staring at in hogsmeade. you were convinced that your feet would get too cold in them and that they'd hurt your feet, so tom charmed them to be comfortable and warm, which you discovered with delight when you pulled them on.

"i love them! i'm going to wear them all the time."

you peered into the box, which contained one last gift. a pretty pink leather bound journal that had your initials scrawled in gold ink on the cover. your eyes immediately snapped up to tom's.

"how fancy," pansy said. "any guesses on who your secret santa is, y/n?"

"tommy!" you said with a grin. "i've only complained to him a thousand times about running out of my coloured ink and he was with me when I was eyeing these shoes in the village." you hugged the journal to your chest, smiling shyly at him. "and I told him how much I liked his fancy journal."

"now we can match, doll."

"thank you, thank you, thank you," you said excitedly, enveloping tom in a tight hug. the rest of the group looked on curiously, smirking amongst themselves at the fact that tom allowed the gesture. if it were anyone else, tom probably would've hexed them within an inch of their life.

"does that mean you like it, y/n?"

"no," you said, still maintaining a death grip around his neck. "i love it, tom. it's perfect. you're perfect, pumpkin."

tom blinked as you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. your cherry lip gloss branded his skin, but he didn't mind one bit. he would wear the mark proudly.

"do my eyes deceive me?" mattheo crooned. "are you blushing, brother?"

"aw, how cute. pumpkin’s got a little crush," theo added.

tom glared at both boys. "you have two seconds to run."

mattheo and theo both looked at each other before taking off in the opposite direction.

"really, tommy?" you teased, giggling.

"they're being twats."

"such a grumpy little grinch," you exclaimed, tapping his nose. "at least let me give you your gift before you maim the boys."

"can I have a hint?"

"let's just say you and nagini will be warm and cozy this christmas," you said with a devious smile. "I made the two of you matching jumpers!"

"you better be joking, doll."

"oh, i'm as serious as a heart attack, tommy.” tom scowled as you slipped your fingers through his. "but don't worry, you get more than one gift tonight."

"you're lucky you're cute, y/n."

you chuckled, standing on your tiptoes to press a matching kiss on his other cheek. "yeah, but not nearly as cute as you, pumpkin."

[evans23]

Daughter of mine II

Pairing : Judge Turpin x Daughter OC

Summary : The great judge Turpin tries to adapt to his new role as a father. Awkward, he doesn't realise that his daughter doesn't find her place in this new world.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : A bit of angst I guess. Mention of prostitution and death. Awkward father. If I forget something, please mention it to me !

A/N: Hello dear 😁 Here the next part of Daughter of mine. Enjoy !

Part I - Part III

Also read on AO3

The first days were awkward, to say the least. Catherine was intimidated by her new surroundings and Turpin didn't know how to be a father. He didn't really try either. He didn't have any good paternal figure when he was a kid, his father being the kind violent. Besides, he couldn't stop thinking it would have been easier if he had been in the child's life from the beginning. 

Not only did he have to catch up with six years of his daughter's life, almost seven, which was utterly impossible, but also, he wasn't sure how to impose his authority on his daughter. His daughter... Even this word sounded strange to him. 

It had only been two weeks since the girl had moved in with him, in his mansion. The servants were totally enamoured with the child, who was reserved and overly polite. She never asked for anything and ate everything that was served to her, even when it was obvious she didn't like what was on her plate. Fortunately, her governess could read the little girl far more easily than her dad, and each time she noticed an imperceptible grimace of disgust, she warned the cook not to prepare this food for the child anymore. 

True to his words, two days after her arrival, Catherine got a tutor. In fact, more than one. One of the teachers had for a mission was to teach her how to write, read, and speak properly, like a well-mannered lady should do. Another one was there to teach her to speak French and Italian and another one to provide some music and drawing skills.

She probably should learn how to dance, sew, and many other things a mother would judge necessary for his daughter to know, but Turpin wasn't a mother, scarcely a father, and those trivial competencies weren't what mattered the most for Turpin. He wanted a well-educated daughter, with knowledge in his head and not just an empty brain as too much lady of his acquaintance. Turpin was a conservator, yes, but he knew how important it was to be able to think by itself, even for a girl, even more for his daughter !

The triviality would be learned later, when he decided it was time to introduce her to the high society, in a timely manner. For the moment, there was no place for any leisure. Anyway, the hectic schedule of Catherine didn't leave any room for that. She had a tiring day like she had never experienced before. 

She had to wake up at seven o'clock, half past six sometimes, and be ready with the help of her maid before eight. She had a light breakfast before the start of her courses, which only stopped once at noon to let her the time to have lunch and then at half past four in the afternoon. From half past four to five, she had some time to play on her own but she had to be quite imaginative, for there were no toys for her. Not because Turpin was too stingy but because it hadn't crossed his mind that the girl could need more than pretty dresses and coats. 

However, Catherine was so happy with those beautiful clothes that she wore them with unconcealed joy as she had never had new clothes before, even less expensive and elegant dresses like these one but only the old ones of her mother who took up it as best as she could, that she didn't dare ask for more. 

In addition, she had three meals a day, water at will, tea in the morning, and even orange juice and snacks during the day if she wished to. But what delighted her the most was the hot cocoa her governess brought her every night before sleep. A beverage her mother couldn't afford at all. Also, and for her biggest relief, she was allowed to keep her candles lit all night to make the terrifying shadows of her past disappear. And she knew how expensive was a candle, her mother told her so each time she asked to keep one alight for the night when she was alone and so afraid.

Unfortunately, despite all the affluence she was surrounded with, she felt alone. Terribly alone. She had no friends, wasn't allowed to go out, except for the backyard of the mansion, but anyway, it was too cold to play outside, but more than everything else, she missed her mom. She was also secretly longing for a father. But Richard didn't seem to appeal to the idea or at least, it was what she thought. 

Richard was never home. He left an hour before her waking time and came back far after her bedtime. He worked every day, including on Saturday morning, and during the afternoon, he was locked up in his office. The only room she was forbidden to enter in. Should she have been bolder, she would probably intruded into his sanctuary of peace to have the privilege of his company, but the natural severity emanating from the man was enough to keep her on track. 

Sunday was the only day during which she had breakfast with him, but he wasn't very talkative and she didn't know what to say to the man who, inevitably, dismissed her in her room or in the garden with her maid to let her have some clear air while he was, yet again, in his office, working on court cases or attempting some business with The Beadle. 

And because she couldn't have a piece of Richard, not necessarily his heart, not even his affection, even though she was in desperate need of a bit of that more than the beautiful dresses and the palatable food, she started to become sad. Sadder than she was when her mom died or when they were living in the paucity on the outskirts of London. Sadder than when she had lost her little cat, dead because he was starving and her mom couldn't buy enough food for the three of them, sadder than when she had been sent to the orphanage. 

In fact, she felt deceived by the man she had thought would be more than just his savior. The moment she had understood who he was, she had thought he would be his father, the one she had wished for on every birthday, and also for Christmas. She had begun to feel the need to fill in the hole in her heart with the presence of the man she had dreamt of. Moreover, the death of Elena, her dear mommy, had enlarged that hole, and the instant she had acknowledged Richard for who he was, she had wrongly thought he would embrace his role as a father. How stupid she had been. How a man who had left her mother with a broken heart could have loved her ?

The governess and the maids had already understood what the child was longing for. She needed her father's love to heal. However, Richard wasn't mean on purpose. He just didn't know how to step into the life of the child, how to take up his place as a father. Of course, he knew he just had to be himself, but the truth was that he was afraid to act like his father. Never could he forgive himself if his daughter was as afraid of him as he was of his own father when he was a child and even a young teenager. 

He had promised to himself, the day she arrived home, that never ever he would beat her, no matter her wrongdoings. Never she would hear the sound of a whip on her back and even less the feel of it. Nevertheless, he was a firm believer in the fact that a kid needed a sprinkle of authority. Even more than a sprinkle. 

Yet, he had to admit that she was easy to manage. She didn't run amok around the house and apparently, she didn't inherit the malicious and devious traits of the Turpin. Also, she never answered back, something Richard had done many times at the same age, which had owed him many slaps in the face. And surprisingly, he found himself wishing she would answer back because it would mean she was talking with him. In his presence, she was always silent and he didn't know if it was because she was impressed by him or just because she didn't adapt well to her new environment, but it was bothering him. 

"Sir, may I enquire how is doing the daughter of yours ?" asked The Beadle, that morning in the court office.

Richard looked down at him suspiciously. He didn't appreciate the attention Beadle thought necessary to have towards his daughter. He knew the man too well and didn't have any difficulties to figure out his intentions. He would be cold in his grave before a man like him could consider being betrothed to Catherine. The girl wouldn't have any suitor before her twenty-five. Or before his death. And he was able to defy God's authority on that matter just to be sure she wouldn't fall for a miserable like Beadle. A depraved man like him. In fact, after consideration, a man at all !

He dismissed The Beadle with a frown which said far more than his mouth. For God's sake, he thought, never come the day she would find man interesting. Not that they were all that bad, but Catherine's legacy would be substantial. Indeed, he had already found enough loopholes in the law to prevent his manor and all his wealth from being entailed to a stranger cousin he hadn't met in his life. All he knew about that man was that he was living in Australia with his wife and a son of sixteen named Elliott. 

"How is she ?" he asked as usual when he came back from the court to the maid.

"Asleep," answered merely the woman. 

She was the oldest maid of the manor, also the one who was able with Richard diplomatically enough to bring him around the right decision. 

"Did she eat ?"

If the answer was no, which happened sometimes, he always made sure she had a heavy breakfast in the morning, one she had to eat entirely if she wanted to have a break after her last course of the day. It only happened once that she was deprived of her playtime. Turpin knew it wasn't a solution to punish the girl when she didn't feel like eating, but she was so thin, even after two weeks of the best food that he was afraid to see her fall sick. Eating wasn't a pleasure, it was vital. 

"Yes."

The quietness of the maid made him suspicious. 

"What's the matter, Anne ?" he asked roughly.

The old woman wasn't impressed at all by the man. She wasn't afraid to stand up to him, even if she had already threatened to fire her or worse, to send her to a colony in the middle of nowhere in the upside-down. Perhaps the fact she had been his governess when she was a child had something to do with it. And even if she was grateful for the man to have hired her after her husband's death when he was still a young man, barely established as a young lawyer thanks to the influence of his family. 

"The girl is depressed," she stated frankly.

"Depressed ? We are not depressed at her age. She didn't know anything about the hardness of life," he prompted harshly.

"As you didn't know anything about it at the same age, I guess ?" Anne uttered perfidiously. 

The look Richard gave her would have made anyone else shriek with fear, but the woman didn't flinch under his stringent gaze.

"She is not mistreated here," he growled, his tone a dangerous warning.

"No, but she is alone. No friends, no toys, only studying the whole day."

And no father, she added for herself. 

"I've no acquaintance with child of her age," stated Turpin, "and for the toy, I'll leave money on the buffet tomorrow morning. Go into town and buy what you think is fit for her."

Anne shook her head with disapprobation.

"What ? Woman, do you want to live on the street ? It's where you would be if it hadn't been for my great kindness," groaned Richard, his patience thinner and thinner at each rolling eyes of the maid.

"The gift would have more valor if it came from her father," she simply pointed out. 

Richard, whose eyes were flashing with all his anger, hurried away to lock himself in his bedroom, slamming the door violently to let everybody know how angry he was in the whole house, but more peculiarly Anne, how displeased he was tonight.

The next morning, there was no money on the buffet, which made the maid smile. She was sure her words had reached Richard.

The day seemed to drag on for poor Catherine. She was too distracted to focus on her lesson, which annoyed her teacher who scolded her, promising her to give a report to her father about her bad behaviour. Catherine didn't say anything, even though she found it quite unfair as she just let her mind roam around. It wasn't as if she had disrupted the class by chattering incessantly. Anyway, except for the servants, there was no one to speak with. 

The second teacher was far more lenient with her, asking her why she was so lost on him. She shrugged her shoulders, but the man, who had three daughters and eight grandchildren, wasn't dupe. There was a heaviness in the heart of the little girl. He tried to incite her to open up, without success. He didn't insist as he didn't want to frustrate her. He understood that she was like her father : she didn't give her trust easily and the old man wasn't keen to damage the bond he had started to create with her.

At the Court of Justice, Turpin wasn't more focused than his daughter. He had adjourned the Court, even though he had found some pleasure in not temper justice with mercy. Anne's straightforward honesty had kept him up all night. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to hurt the child, yet he knew he would if he was too involved in her life. He hadn't had any good role model and it wasn't as if he wasn't providing the child with everything she needed. But deep down, he knew it wasn't what she really needed. He had been a child too and back in time, he would have traded everything he had, money, wealth, high education, and the best tutors for the love of his parents. Or at least their care.

Her mother didn't have any maternal instinct. She had been married by force to a cruel man. She had given him an heir, then another one, who had died at the age of fifteen. His younger brother, more sensitive, more fragile, had made the terrible choice to stop breathing by hanging himself to the attic load-bearing beam. Richard was already studying in London when it happened. It's the butler who had found his brother and the boy had been buried in the highest discretion. No one knew the truth, except for the Turpin's family. Richard would never forget the belt lashes of his father when he had made him swear to never reveal the real causes of his father's dead. The truth would have disgraced the family. 

Catherine deserved better than the heavy Turpin's legacy. She deserved to be happy. And because he had been raised by the worst parents, he could be better. He knew everything he mustn't do. He knew how he could destroy her, therefore he knew how not to. 

He left the Court earlier than usual and well-decided to have supper with his daughter. Yet, when he arrived he found the manor too calm, almost as if everybody was already asleep. It was only five, so the venue should have been alive with servants accomplishing their duties, not with the distant cries of a little girl.

Turpin strode up the stairs, worried that something had happened to Catherine when he stumbled upon Anne.

"What's happening here ?" he asked roughly, "while Catherine is crying and where is everybody ?"

"It has been a tough day for the little mistress. Her classes didn't go well. Mister Wosley, her morning teacher had been quite hard with her. He wrote a rapport about her bad behavior, but the governess was with them and she assured me the little girl was quiet as usual, she was just not focusing on her lesson."

"And she's crying for a rapport about her behavior?" asked Turpin bewildered.

"She's afraid you don't want her anymore. The paper is quite severe."

"Because you read it ?" asked Richard, his eyebrows arched, the slightest annoyance on his face.

"No. She did and then she read it to me because she couldn't understand some words. I explained them to her in a more... soft way. I also assure her that you won't send her away because of the angriness of a teacher."

"You did well," said Richard absent-mindedly. 

He pretended to go to his office to read the note, but the maid retained him by clearing her throat. He turned around to face her, a questioning look on his features.

"What else ?" he asked, annoyed at his highest.

"This afternoon, she went out with Mister Brandon. He wanted a change of scenery to cheer up Catherine and..."

The maid hesitated, biting her lower lip.

"Anne, I'm tired, my daughter is crying which, I have to admit despite my disgust at doing it, distraught me, and I'm terribly hungry, which only add to my annoyance. If there is more, then speak without any diversion," he chided, his square shoulders and his stern eyes leaving no room for argument.

"Well, they found a strayed kitten and Catherine had brought it back. Mister Brandon didn't see the harm in it. But once he left, Harry, the stableman, told her that you didn't like animals and that you would probably throw the little pet against a wall to kill it if she didn't get rid of it before your return. She and her governess were trying to find an appropriate hideout for the little cat when she heard you arrived. Yet again, we tried with her governess to tell her you wouldn't do that, but she didn't believe us and now she's afraid Harry told you about her new companion while she didn't find anywhere to hide it."

Richard sighed heavily. The weariness and tiredness put a strain on him. 

"Thank you for telling me, Anne. Ask the butler to thank Harry with no money and reference. The boy doesn't work in my stable anymore,' and with that being said, and the package in his hands, he headed towards Catherine's room.

The governess froze when, after having closed the door, she turned around, almost bumping into Richard.

"My lord," she said with a curtesy.

"How is she ?" he asked, ignoring her terrifying eyes on him. 

"I managed to calm her down, but she is very afraid that you scold her or worse for what Mister Wosley wrote about her. She swears it's not true. And also..."

The woman wasn't sure she should keep quiet. She knew everything she had to about Turpin's bad temper and she had been here for only two weeks, also she didn't know if he could kill or not an innocent kitten.

"What about the cat ?" asked Richard harshly.

If he hadn't been so concerned about the well-being of his child, he would probably have found the expression of the governess hilarious. Her eyes were wide, she was gawking at him.

"Well ?" he insisted, "did you find an appropriate hideout for it ?"

"Indeed," answered the governess with embarrassment.

"Well, let's see if I can find it."

And with that being said, Richard knocked on the door, then entered without waiting for any answer, as he was sure the girl wouldn't have given permission to anyone to come in. 

"Catherine," thundered Turpin's voice, making the little girl shiver.

Her sad eyes looked upon his. He opened his mouth, but he didn't have time to utter any words that the little girls rushed into his arms. Flabbergasted, Turpin didn't know what to do and stayed stunned while Catherine flooded his golden waistcoat with her tears. 

"Come on, come on, calm down," said Richard softly, "let's sit down, yes ?"

He led her towards the huge bed on which were laying Merlin and many other plush animals.

"There's a whole zoo on your bed. Are you aware of that ?" asked playfully Turpin, hoping to ease a bit of the distress of his daughter.

It seemed to work as she giggled discretely. 

"Where do all those animals come from ?" asked curiously Richard.

"The servants," whispered the girl. 

Of course, they were all so fond of their little mistress, and apparently, they knew her better than him as everybody but he knew her love for animals, that they had spent some of their pay into expensive kids' stuff. 

"Do they all have a name ?"

Catherine nodded, introducing him to each of her unanimated friends with enthusiasm, her previous outburst forgotten. Even though Richard was happy to see the mood of the child liven up, he needed to clear up the events of the day. He cursed himself for bringing up the topic when she started to cry with violent sobbing.

"Hush, hush. I'm not scolding you, am I ?" he said, bothered to not know how to talk without causing anguish to his child. 

He, eventually, took his little hand in his, frowning at how thin her little arm was. He could see her bones protruding from her neckline and her shoulders and he was sure that during bath time, her maid could notice the same things with her ribs and knees. 

"You're not angry ?" she asked bashfully.

"No," said Richard.

And it was true. He knew quite well the teacher and how harsh he could be with his pupils. Yet, he was one of the best in his profession and Turpin wanted nothing but the cream of the top for her. He would have a word with him tomorrow, asking him to be more indulgent with the girl. He wouldn't have to ask twice for the man restrained his sternness because no one could match up to the anger of The High Judge Turpin. The Death's Judge. 

"Yet, I would like to be acquainted with someone else," uttered Richard.

Catherine still, understood he was talking about her cat. 

"I put him out," she declared too quickly.

Her alarmed eyes wandered a second too long towards her wardrobe. Richard stood up in a flourish and walked briskly to the piece of furniture.

"NO !" shouted the girl.

"Hush !" prompted Richard.

He sharply opened the door and a little ball of fur ran through the room to find refuge inside a cardboard box that the butler had given to Catherine for her new companion. 

"Well, it seems to already feel at home," stated Richard.

"Please, father, do not kill him," begged Catherine, bursting into tears.

Richard felt his blood ran cold through his whole body. It was the first time she had called him father. And if he was honest with himself, it had made his heart beat faster. 

"Never would I do something like that, Catherine," he said genuinely concerned she could believe him able to do something like that.

Actually, if Richard was totally honest, he could do that without any qualms to blackmail someone or to torture an enemy. But never would he do that to this girl who had become so precious for him in such a short time. Also, for Richard, animals were the sheerest and most beautiful of God's creation. Nothing to do with the mongrel he had to deal with in his day-to-day life. 

"But Harry said..."

"Do not listen to this idiot. Anyway, he doesn't work anymore for us. Rather than being gullible and believing everything everyone's telling you, you should learn to trust me."

She looked down embarrassed but Richard forced her to look at him by lifting her head with the help of one finger under his chin.

"What's the name of this little opportunist ?" he asked, looking with an amused look at the pet tearing apart the old blanket Anne had put into the box.

"Arthur," answered Catherine with a bright smile.

"Arthur ?" questioned Turpin.

"Like the King !"

Obviously. Merlin, Mordred, Gwaine, Percival, Leon, Elyan were the names of her plush and now Arthur, thought Richard, suppressing a laugh. 

"Well, Arthur is more than welcome in this house. As long as he doesn't dare come through my office and he doesn't scratch the sofas of the parlor."

Catherine nodded vigorously, her smile and the happiness flickering in her eyes a reward for Richard's tortured soul.

"I've also a present for you. I'm sorry it's not another beast for your zoo."

With that, he handed her the box he had put down on the nightstand. Catherine looked at the box with surprise before opening it with the enthusiasm of a child who wasn't used to getting a gift. Inside was laying the most beautiful doll she had ever seen. A porcelain doll with curly brown hair and the same green eyes as hers, like the one she shared with her mother. The doll's dress was made of real cashmere and embroidered with golden threads. 

"Are you happy ?" asked Turpin with trepidation as he didn't know how to interpret the child's silence. 

"I've never had something as beautiful before," whispered Catherine, not daring to take the doll out of her box, too afraid to damage it.

Richard did it for her, placing the doll among the animals.

"She will soon have her own house. I'm sure Anne and your governess would be more than delighted to help you to install her in her new lodgings. Perhaps you may ask Anne to teach you how to sew so that you could create a whole wardrobe for your doll. I will provide you with all the pieces of furniture you could need for this new entertainment."

The little girl, overwhelmed with joy, didn't know what to say and Richard, as introverted as his daughter on the field of sharing his feelings, told her he would meet her for supper. But while he was ready to leave the room, he heard Catherine's hurried steps running towards him. He didn't have time to turn around when a mass of brown curls threw itself into his arms.

He gently stroked her back with one hand, the other one caressing with as much love as he could dispense her hair. She finally stepped back, diving her green eyes in his hazel one without quivering at the natural toughness his face was constantly bearing. 

"Thank you, father," she whispered quietly, almost as if she was afraid of his reaction, afraid to lose the little affection he seemed disposed to give her.

Richard's face softened, his heart swelling with a feeling he hadn't felt for long. The last time, it was when Elena, his beloved Elena, was in his arms after he had made love to her. Elena had betrayed him when she had left him with no explanation. And now she was no longer of this world. But Catherine, the fruit of their love was there and she wanted nothing more than to love him unconditionally. It was at this moment, when he saw all the gratefulness of his daughter for a mere doll and his permission to let her keep the kitten, that a thought struck him. A man could lose a woman, but never a father could lose his child if he was able to be a good parent for the said child. So, Richard silently swore to himself he would be the best father a girl could hope for. From now on and until death comes to take him away from this world.

"You're welcome, daughter of mine," he said with a smile matching his daughter's one. A Turpin's smile. 

[esmedelacroix]

1 day til' Christmas

spending a snowstorm with husband!miguel o'hara on christmas eve⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

2 days til' christmas ← previous part

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It was the last day of keeping your pregnancy from Miguel and you couldn't be happier; tomorrow he would open his last Christmas gift and see a positive pregnancy test. You couldn't wait to share this great news with him.

The plan was to go to the hospital that morning but you miraculously got snowed in and you hadn't vomited that morning making it crucial to take it slow when drinking and eating.

Normally on Christmas Eve, the two of you shared a bottle of red wine and finished wrapping presents for each other and family and friends.

This Christmas, you would do the same but instead of wine, you’d have eggnog. Every single holiday Miguel is reminded that you hate the idea of egg nog. “Who would ever eat egg milk? That’s weird,” you said.

“I drink said, ‘egg milk’, it's one of my holiday comfort drinks,” Miguel would respond.

“I know but—“ you’d start.

“Please don’t yuck my yum,” he joked.

“You’ve never even tried it before,” he continued.

You still had never tried eggnog but now you had a feeling that you’d like it. You took a small sip and your taste buds did pirouettes. Eggnog tasted like a sweet vanilla-flavored version of milk.

“This is good!” you exclaimed.

“Told ya,” Miguel responded as he began to wrap up personalized Fender guitar picks. He always swore Hobie got on his nerves but he still cared. Enough to get him such a valuable yet thoughtful gift.

The two of you enjoyed your drinks and marveled at the gifts you got each other. It was never really. a surprise on Christmas day since you always wrapped everything together. There were one or two gifts that the two of you wanted to keep a surprise including yours. "What's this?" Miguel asked as he picked up a small rectangular box that had his name on it.

"That's your gift but I want it to be a surprise," you replied.

"Hmm, interesting," he replied as he put the gift down thinking it was something like a watch or a ridiculously expensive pen like the years before.

After two hours you were finally done wrapping all the gifts. You were both famished afterward. You were heavily craving some hot chocolate and marshmallows but you didn't have any marshmallows. On top of that, the two of you couldn't leave your home because of the snowstorm.

Thankfully out of all of the random things that Miguel knows how to do, making marshmallows was one of them. You thankfully had all the ingredients, you tried to follow along but it was way too complicated. You sat on your kitchen island and asked him questions while he skillfully made the marshmallows.

You purposefully asked the dumbest random questions and he found it hilarious. While he was letting the marshmallows sit, he let you lick the bowl like you were a child again making cookies with a loved one that let you try the dough.

The two of you had prepared dinner while waiting for the marshmallows to finish setting. Christmas Eve dinner was my favorite because it was breakfast for dinner. This year's menu was eggnog French toast with cranberry jam and cheesy omelets with spinach and tomatoes in them.

In perfect timing, right after the two of you finished eating and cleaning up after your meal, the marshmallows were done. The two of you got comfy and cuddled on the couch wrapped in blankets watching Holidate with mugs with steaming hot cocoa in hand.

The night was perfect and your heart raced with excitement of what was to come the next morning. You fell asleep halfway through the movie so Miguel carried you to your shared room.

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Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The lovers were nestled all snug in their bed

While visions of a baby shower danced in your head

Santa sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle,

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

. . .

to be continued → Christmas Special

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