#cabin tales carol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amethystarachnid · 18 days ago

Note

Hi rose!!

Could i request ‘Christmas Caroling (Disaster)’ from your marvel holiday special with (platonic relationship) natasha romanoff and fem!reader? just banter, fluff and laughs! If you don’t write for Nat or don’t write platonic relationships, feel free to change any details!

Thank you!

CAROLING & SNOWBALL FIGHTS

⤷ NATASHA A. ROMANOFF

ᯓ★ Pairing: Natasha A. Romanoff x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff, platonic

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 3.5k

ᯓ★ Summary: You're feeling bored so your best friend, Natasha Romanoff herself, takes matters into her own hands and decides to make you have som fun outside the Compound.

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

It’s another quiet morning at the Avengers Compound, snowflakes tumbling lazily past the frosted windows. You’ve been staring at the same book for an hour, the words blending into an indecipherable blur. With a sigh, you drop it on the coffee table and stretch, looking around the room for something, anything, to do. The holiday decorations you and the team painstakingly put up last week sparkle in the soft light, but even they can’t hold your attention.

“Bored, huh?” Natasha’s voice makes you jump. She’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, an amused smirk on her lips. She’s dressed casually in a dark hoodie and jeans, her red hair pulled into a loose braid. The sight is almost comical; you’re used to seeing her geared up for a mission, not looking like she’s about to suggest a Netflix marathon.

“Is it that obvious?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Painfully,” she replies, stepping into the room. She flops onto the couch beside you, stealing the mug of hot chocolate you’d abandoned earlier. “What’s the problem, Y/N? Cabin fever?”

“Something like that,” you admit. “I can’t take another day of sitting around here doing nothing. I swear I’ll lose my mind.”

Natasha takes a sip, watching you over the rim of the mug. She’s silent for a moment before her face lights up with an idea. “Let’s get out of here.”

You blink at her. “Out of here? Like, where?”

“Central Park,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s snowing, it’s December, and I’m guessing you’ve never seen it in full winter wonderland mode.”

“That’s because I value my extremities,” you quip, though a grin tugs at the corners of your mouth. The idea is already growing on you. “But fine. If I lose a finger to frostbite, you owe me a really good story to make up for it.”

Natasha rolls her eyes but grabs your hand, pulling you off the couch. “Deal. Now go bundle up, rookie.”

Ten minutes later, you’re layered up in coats, scarves, and gloves, feeling like a marshmallow on legs. Natasha teases you mercilessly about your knit hat, but you point out that at least you’ll be warm. She’s only wearing a simple beanie and claims she doesn’t feel the cold—a classic spy move, you’re sure.

The streets are bustling when you arrive in Manhattan, but the chaos is strangely comforting. The city hums with energy, a mix of holiday cheer and the usual fast-paced New York vibe. As you approach Central Park, the snow seems to muffle the noise, wrapping everything in a blanket of quiet beauty.

Natasha leads the way, her boots crunching in the snow. The paths are partially cleared, but the open spaces are covered in a thick layer of pristine white. You spot families building snowmen and kids racing each other on sleds. A few brave souls are attempting to ice skate on the frozen pond.

“This is actually kind of nice,” you admit, looking around in awe.

“Told you,” Natasha says smugly, tossing a snowball at your shoulder. It’s a lazy throw, but you still yelp in surprise, brushing the snow off your coat.

“Oh, you’re asking for it now,” you warn, bending down to scoop up your own handful of snow. Natasha dodges easily, laughing as your attempt sails harmlessly past her.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” she taunts, darting behind a tree for cover. You chase after her, and soon you’re both caught in an all-out snowball fight, ducking and weaving like you’re in some kind of ridiculous winter-themed action movie. Natasha is annoyingly good at dodging, but you manage to land a few hits, much to your satisfaction.

Eventually, you call a truce, both of you panting and grinning like kids. “I can’t feel my hands,” you complain, shaking the snow out of your gloves.

“Rookie mistake,” Natasha says, but she’s smiling, her cheeks flushed from the cold. “Come on. Let’s walk for a bit.”

The two of you stroll along the snowy paths, the playful mood giving way to something softer. The park is quieter now, the light fading as the afternoon stretches toward evening. The snow-covered trees and twinkling lights give everything a magical quality, like you’ve stepped into a postcard.

“Thanks for this,” you say after a while, breaking the comfortable silence. “I really needed it.”

Natasha shrugs, but there’s a warmth in her eyes. “You’ve been looking a little stir-crazy. Figured you could use a change of scenery.”

“Still,” you insist, bumping her shoulder with yours. “You didn’t have to. You could’ve left me to rot in my boredom.”

“What kind of friend would I be if I did that?” she asks, her tone light but sincere. The word “friend” hangs in the air, and you realize just how much it means to you. Natasha isn’t the easiest person to get close to, but moments like this remind you how much she cares in her own quiet way.

As you continue your walk, you can’t help but laugh at the sight of Natasha sneaking marshmallows from a street vendor selling hot chocolate. She insists they don’t count as stealing since she bought a drink, but the grin on her face says otherwise. You both sit on a park bench, steaming cups in hand, and watch as the first stars begin to appear in the darkening sky.

“This is perfect,” you say softly, the warmth of the hot chocolate seeping into your gloves.

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees, her voice equally quiet. “It is.”

The two of you sit there for a long time, the world around you fading into the background. For once, there’s no mission, no chaos, no looming threat—just you, your best friend, and the peaceful beauty of a snowy December evening.

You’re mid-sip of your hot chocolate, savoring the warmth, when something smacks into the back of your head with a dull thud. You nearly spill the drink in surprise and spin around, only to see a rogue snowball disintegrating against the back of the bench. Natasha freezes mid-sip, her eyes widening slightly, and you catch the faintest twitch of a smirk.

Before you can react, a chorus of giggles erupts from somewhere nearby. A group of kids stands a few feet away, their faces half-hidden by scarves and hats, but their mischievous intent is clear. One of them holds up another snowball like it’s a trophy, daring you to respond.

Natasha, ever the professional, turns her head slowly toward you, her expression unreadable. “Well, Y/N,” she says, setting her cup down with deliberate care. “You’re not going to let them get away with that, are you?”

You blink at her. “What? They’re just kids—”

Before you can finish the sentence, Natasha has already scooped up a handful of snow, molded it into a perfect sphere, and lobbed it with expert precision. The kid with the snowball barely dodges, letting out a shriek of laughter.

“Natasha!” you hiss, horrified and impressed in equal measure.

“They started it,” she says with a shrug, but the gleam in her eyes tells you she’s fully committed to this impromptu war. Another snowball flies past her head, and she ducks, motioning for you to follow her lead. “Come on, rookie. Don’t make me fight this battle alone.”

Reluctantly—and with a ridiculous amount of glee—you scramble off the bench and join her behind the nearest tree. Snowballs fly back and forth in a chaotic flurry. The kids are surprisingly coordinated for their age, and you’re pretty sure one of them is an aspiring pitcher with how fast their throws are.

Natasha, however, is in her element. She moves like she’s on a battlefield, dodging snowballs and retaliating with almost supernatural accuracy. You’re not sure whether to laugh or be concerned when she starts calling out tactics like, “Flank left!” and “Suppressive fire!”

“Nat, they’re children!” you gasp between laughs, barely dodging another well-aimed projectile.

“They’re ruthless!” she counters, narrowly avoiding a snowball to the face. “We don’t negotiate with snowball terrorists.”

Before you can respond, one of the kids sneaks up behind you and pelts you square in the back. You yelp, spinning around to see a tiny figure bolting back toward their group. Natasha cackles, actually cackles, at your expense.

“Oh, you’re going down,” you mutter, grabbing as much snow as you can carry. You charge toward the kids, who scatter in every direction, shrieking with laughter. Natasha follows close behind, her grin stretching from ear to ear.

The battle rages on for what feels like forever, until finally, you and Natasha call a truce—mostly because you’re both out of breath and can’t feel your fingers anymore. The kids cheer in victory, clearly declaring themselves the winners, and you wave a white scarf in surrender.

As you and Natasha trudge back to the bench, covered in snow and utterly exhausted, you can’t help but laugh. “I can’t believe I just went to war with a bunch of eight-year-olds.”

Natasha collapses onto the bench beside you, brushing snow out of her hair. “Hey, they were formidable opponents. You held your own.”

“I think I got frostbite on my dignity,” you joke, shaking your head.

“You’ll live,” she says, smirking. “Barely.”

You’re about to retort when a new sound catches your attention—a sharp, metallic clunk followed by a muffled curse. Both of you whip around, instinctively alert. A man in a Santa suit has somehow managed to get his foot stuck in a trash can, and he’s hopping around trying to free himself, looking utterly ridiculous.

You and Natasha stare for a moment before bursting into laughter. It’s the kind of uncontrollable, tears-in-your-eyes laughter that leaves you gasping for air.

“I can’t—” Natasha wheezes, clutching her stomach. “This is too much.”

The man finally notices the two of you watching and glares. “What? Haven’t you ever seen Santa in distress?” he snaps, still hopping. That only makes you laugh harder.

“Should we help him?” you manage to ask between giggles.

Natasha shakes her head, still laughing. “I think he’s got it under control.”

As if to prove her wrong, Santa trips over his own feet and falls flat on his back with a loud oof. Your laughter dies instantly, replaced by a mix of horror and concern.

“Oh my God,” you exclaim, rushing over to help. “Are you okay?”

The man groans but waves you off. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just…bad day, you know?”

Natasha joins you, her amusement giving way to a more subdued grin. “Do you need a hand?”

Santa looks up at her, then at you, and sighs. “You’re not gonna let me live this down, are you?”

“Nope,” Natasha says, offering him her hand. “But I will help you up.”

Between the two of you, you manage to get him back on his feet and free his boot from the trash can. He mutters a thanks before trudging off, still grumbling under his breath.

As you return to the bench, you and Natasha exchange a look and burst out laughing again.

“This is officially the weirdest day ever,” you say, shaking your head.

“Just another day in New York,” Natasha replies, her eyes twinkling. “Admit it, though—it’s been fun.”

You smile, brushing a stray snowflake off your coat. “Yeah. It really has.”

As the last of your laughter fades and the chill starts to settle back in, you hear something unusual over the faint hum of city noise: voices raised in song. You and Natasha exchange curious looks, both craning your necks toward the sound.

Down the path, a group of cheerful carolers bundled in scarves and hats stands beneath a lamp post, singing their hearts out. Their harmonized rendition of Jingle Bells drifts through the snowy air, lifting the spirits of passersby. It’s such a quintessentially wholesome scene that you can’t help but smile.

“Should we join them?” you joke, nudging Natasha with your elbow. “Spread some holiday cheer?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You? Singing? I thought you said you didn’t do public humiliation.”

“Funny,” you deadpan, though you’re smiling. “I could totally out-sing you.”

“Oh, that sounds like a challenge,” she says, her smirk widening.

Before you can retort, one of the carolers—an older woman with a kind face and an almost suspicious amount of holiday cheer—spots you both watching. Her eyes light up, and before you can bolt, she’s heading your way, flanked by a few other singers.

“Hello there!” she says, her voice warm and inviting. “You two look like you’re having a wonderful evening. Care to join us? We’re spreading some Christmas joy around the park.”

“Oh, we’re just here to—” you start, but Natasha cuts you off.

“Absolutely,” she says, grinning at your look of betrayal. “We’d love to.”

The woman beams, clapping her hands together. “Wonderful! Come on, we’ve got songbooks for you.”

“Natasha,” you hiss as she pulls you along, “what are you doing? We can’t sing.”

“Speak for yourself,” she replies, her tone light but teasing. “Besides, it’s not about being good. It’s about having fun.”

You groan but let her drag you toward the group. Someone hands you a songbook, and before you know it, you’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Natasha, surrounded by cheerful strangers belting out holiday classics.

The first song is Deck the Halls, and to your surprise, you’re not entirely terrible. Natasha, of course, sings with the kind of confidence that makes you wonder if she’s secretly been trained in covert caroling as part of her spy work. She’s not half bad, though her occasional exaggerated vibrato earns some stifled laughs from the group.

When the carolers move on to Silent Night, the vibe softens, and you can’t help but get swept up in the moment. Snow drifts lazily around you, the lights of the park twinkling like stars. Natasha glances at you mid-verse, and the rare softness in her expression makes your heart swell.

“See?” she whispers when the song ends, her breath misting in the cold air. “Not so bad, huh?”

You roll your eyes but smile. “I guess it’s kind of nice.”

The next song is Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and that’s when things take a turn for the hilarious. The carolers encourage everyone to get a little animated, adding silly gestures and sound effects. Natasha, to your utter shock, fully commits. She even throws in a dramatic point to herself when the lyrics mention “reindeer games,” earning a round of applause from the group.

“Who are you and what have you done with Natasha Romanoff?” you tease between verses.

“What can I say?” she quips, shrugging. “I thrive under pressure.”

By the time the group launches into Frosty the Snowman, you’re both fully immersed. You try to outdo each other with increasingly ridiculous antics, from fake tap-dancing to over-the-top hand gestures. The carolers laugh and cheer you on, and soon even passersby are stopping to watch and join in.

At one point, Natasha grabs your arm and twirls you around like you’re in a ballroom dance. You stumble, nearly knocking over a poor guy carrying his dog, and the entire group erupts into laughter.

“I’m blaming you if I fall,” you warn, breathless from laughing so hard.

“You’ll be fine,” Natasha replies, smirking. “You’re more coordinated than you look.”

The impromptu performance ends with a rousing rendition of We Wish You a Merry Christmas, complete with clapping and stomping. By the time the carolers disperse, you’re grinning so hard your cheeks hurt.

“That was ridiculous,” you say as you and Natasha walk back to the bench, the snow crunching softly beneath your boots.

“Ridiculously fun,” she counters, her grin matching yours. “Admit it, you loved it.”

“Fine,” you concede, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “It was fun. But don’t expect me to make this a regular thing.”

“Noted,” she says, her tone light. Then, after a pause, she adds, “You’ve got a decent voice, though.”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised. “Was that a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it,” she replies, smirking. “Now, come on. Let’s find something else to do before you start getting bored again.”

As you walk off together, snow falling gently around you, you realize that this has been one of the best days you’ve had in a long time. And it’s all thanks to Natasha—and her unexpected knack for turning the mundane into something extraordinary.

By the time you and Natasha return to the compound, the warmth of the interior feels like heaven. You both stomp the snow off your boots and shed your damp outer layers near the door, collapsing onto the couch in the main living room like you’ve just run a marathon.

“Remind me to never carol in the snow again,” you groan, leaning your head back and closing your eyes.

“You loved it,” Natasha counters, stretching her legs out on the coffee table. She looks just as tired as you feel, though her smirk suggests she’s still riding the high of the day’s events.

Before you can retort, the sound of footsteps pulls your attention. Steve strides in, looking every bit the curious big brother. His eyebrows shoot up at the sight of you both sprawled out like overworked elves.

“Rough mission?” he jokes, folding his arms.

“Worse,” Natasha deadpans. “We were ambushed by snowball terrorists, then conscripted into a caroling group.”

Steve blinks, his confusion quickly replaced by amusement. “Snowball terrorists? Caroling? Is this some kind of inside joke, or—?”

“Oh, it’s very real,” you cut in, sitting up. “I’ve never seen Nat throw snowballs with such precision. It’s terrifying.”

“She’s a trained assassin,” Steve points out, chuckling. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Before the conversation can continue, Sam and Bucky wander in, followed closely by Wanda and Clint. Within minutes, the living room is buzzing with questions and laughter as you recount your afternoon adventures. Natasha, surprisingly, doesn’t downplay any of it, even going so far as to mimic your disastrous attempt at dancing during Frosty the Snowman.

“I swear, she almost took out a guy and his dog,” Natasha says, barely holding back her laughter.

“Did not!” you protest, though you’re laughing too.

“Okay, okay,” Clint interrupts, grinning. “This sounds like the most ridiculous thing I’ve missed all week. But since you two had your fun, what’s the plan for tonight? Because I’m not letting you hog all the entertainment.”

“We’re exhausted,” you point out, slumping further into the couch. “Nat and I earned a break.”

“Perfect,” Wanda chimes in, her eyes lighting up. “Let’s have a movie night. Something fun and festive.”

“Yes!” Sam agrees, already heading for the kitchen. “I’ll make popcorn. But I’m not watching any boring black-and-white Christmas movies.”

“Don’t knock It’s a Wonderful Life,” Steve says, looking mildly offended.

“Let’s take a vote,” Clint suggests, grabbing the remote. “Majority rules.”

It doesn’t take long for everyone to agree on a lineup of holiday classics, starting with Home Alone and ending with Elf. The team scatters briefly to grab snacks, blankets, and other essentials, and when they return, the living room feels like the coziest place on Earth.

Natasha claims the corner of the couch, gesturing for you to sit next to her. You oblige, pulling a blanket over your legs as Sam passes around bowls of popcorn. Wanda curls up in an armchair, while Clint takes the floor with a pillow he’s clearly stolen from someone’s room. Steve and Bucky settle in on the other couch, and even Bruce makes an appearance, looking relaxed for once.

“Ready?” Clint asks, remote in hand.

“Hit it,” Natasha says, smirking.

As the first movie begins, the room fills with laughter and commentary. Sam and Clint provide running jokes during every slapstick scene, while Steve occasionally tries (and fails) to explain the historical inaccuracies of certain films. Natasha, to your surprise, seems to enjoy herself the most, her rare laughter ringing out at the most unexpected moments.

During a particularly chaotic scene in Home Alone, where Kevin sets up traps for the burglars, Bucky leans over to Steve. “Why does this kid remind me of Nat?” he asks, deadpan.

Steve snorts. “Because she’d do the exact same thing, only with way more efficiency.”

“I heard that,” Natasha calls out, not even looking away from the screen.

As the night goes on, everyone starts to relax completely, the day’s stress melting away. At some point, Wanda conjures a tiny flurry of snowflakes above the coffee table, much to everyone’s delight. Clint insists on using them as makeshift targets, and the ensuing chaos nearly derails the movie marathon.

By the time Elf rolls around, you’re half-asleep, leaning against Natasha’s shoulder. She doesn’t seem to mind, her own posture relaxed as she absentmindedly munches on popcorn.

“This was a good idea,” you mumble, your eyes growing heavy.

Natasha hums in agreement. “Told you. Sometimes the simplest things are the best.”

As the movie’s final credits roll, the group lingers, reluctant to let the night end. Clint and Sam argue about who made the best jokes, while Steve insists on cleaning up despite everyone’s protests. Natasha gently nudges you awake, her expression softer than usual.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” she says quietly. “Time for bed.”

You nod groggily, letting her pull you to your feet. As you say your goodnights and head to your room, you can’t help but smile. The day might’ve started with boredom, but it ended with something much better: laughter, friendship, and a reminder of how lucky you are to have found this family.

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ed-recoverry · 8 days ago

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*Coughs* Masterlist of classic books (like shit you read in high school only they are free audiobooks

We love internet archive here

The Great Gatsby

Pride and Prejudice

Romeo and Juliet

A Tale of Two Cities

Animal Farm

Crime and Punishment

The Count of Monte Cristo

The Prince and the Pauper

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

War and Peace

Uncle Tom’s Cabin

Oliver Twist

The Odyssey

Treasure Island

Bleak House

The Divine Comedy (Dante’s Inferno)

A Midsummer Night's Dream

Frankenstein

Moby Dick

David Cooperfield

The Tragedy of Macbeth

Jane Eyre

The Republic (Plato)

The Picture of Dorian Gray

Madame Bovary

Ulysses

The Canterbury Tales

Great Expectations

A Streetcar Named Desire

Othello

The Metamorphosis

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar

The Iliad

A Christmas Carol

12 Creepy Tales by Edgar Allan Poe

The Importance of Being Earnest

The Alchemist

The Three Musketeers

The Hound of the Baskervilles

And Then There Were None

The Scarlet Letter

The Hunchback of Notre Dame

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apomaro-mellow · 2 months ago

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This is a little different from what I normally post. a/b/o; implied underage; implied incest; implied public sex; jimxstevexdmitri; Read on AO3

Steve didn’t need to tell Jim how much he was yearning for it. Jim could smell it on him the minute he’d walked into the cabin.

“You haven’t been seeing anyone else? No one’s taken care of you? I heard you’ve been going out on dates.”

Steve shook his head. “No one. I’ve gone out but they were all duds. No one’s been here to take care of me right.”

“Your old man still hasn’t?”, Jim asked.

Again, Steve shook his head. His own father was never interested in performing his duties as alpha of the house. Steve still remembered being fifteen, his first heat come and gone. And who should show up to his house but Chief Hopper, called by the school to investigate the Harrington’s boy week of absence. Imagine his surprise when he arrived to the scent of fresh and fertile omega.

With the onset of puberty came a rush of hormones and omegas got it the worst (or best according to some). While omegas had come a long way in their rights, it was still expected that they wouldn’t take their first knot until their wedding night. But there was nothing wrong with relieving stress through other means. And it was only natural that this would be done by an alpha they lived with, in order to get them accustomed to an alpha’s touch.

When Carol’s heat had come, she regaled Steve with tales of riding her mom’s thigh through it all. Steve thought his father would care at least enough to take care of him then. No such luck. But instead, the angels sent Jim. And he’d been taking care of Steve ever since. But after Starcourt, he’d been alone again. His father was as absent as ever. It even got to the point where his friend’s parents offered. They were just being decent and friendly, Steve knew. And there was nothing wrong with that. Chrissy, for example, let the alphas on the cheerleading squad eat her out on the regular.

But Steve had only wanted Jim. No one else would do. He had been about to give up when the man appeared, alive and well, although looking thinner than before. Steve wanted to jump him then and anyone could have smelled that. They probably would have given the two their privacy if Steve hadn’t insisted. He knew El missed her dad. And there were things like volunteering, setting up shelters, planning and attending funerals. Life had been a whirlwind, even in the aftermath of winning.

But things finally slowed down and he and Jim were able to find some time together. A reunion of sorts, even though it had been weeks. Jim had started putting on weight again since then and Steve couldn’t be happier about that. As Jim closed the distance between them and cupped him through his pants, Steve missed his pouch of a stomach, but at least he wasn’t as skinny as when he first arrived.

Steve sighed as the strokes got harder. He was so pent up, it didn’t take long for him to get wet. Jim kissed at his ear before he spoke.

“You missed me?”

Steve nodded, laying his head against Jim’s shoulder. Jim sniffed his hair. He had missed Steve too. Being in a freezing cell, all he could think about was the omega’s warmth.

“There’s someone I want you to meet. I think he can help you out too.”

Steve froze and looked up at him, having a feeling of who he was talking about. Jim hadn’t returned to Hawkins alone. A Russian fugitive had come along. An alpha with a voice and scent that sent shivers down his spine. But Steve hadn’t dared to entertain-

“What about you?”, Steve asked.

“I don’t want you to ever go that long all pent up again. But I wanna make sure he knows how to treat you right.”

Steve was laid out on Jim’s bed, stripped down to a tank top and briefs. He didn’t feel cold at all. In addition to the fact it was summer, his body felt a familiar warmth. He could hear footsteps approach and then there they were. Jim, looking pleased as punch and Dmitri like his mouth was watering.

Jim had told Dmitri about the boy he’d left in America. He’d been told how pretty he was. It hadn’t prepared Dmitri for that first time. The cabin had been full of people but he picked him out right away and it took everything he had not to bend at the knee and beg for the chance to taste him right there. Dmitri’s own son had yet to present and he had no way of knowing when he’d be able to return. No way of knowing if and when he’d be able to perform his own fatherly duties. So to get a chance to do that here…

Jim got on the bed first, his hand coming up to rub Steve through his underwear. It was bright white and the wet spot grew bigger with each stroke. The room filled with a sweet scent, something Dmitri just couldn’t place at the moment. Steve’s hips rolled with Jim’s touch.

“You were not joking, my American friend. He is something different. And you’ve had him to yourself all these years?”

“I have”, Jim replied. He pulled his hand away and licked some of the slick that had leaked through. “But now it’s time to share. This is all on the condition that you treat him right, you hear?”

“I hear you loud and clear”, Dmitri said, but his eyes weren’t on Jim. They were stuck between Steve’s legs.

Jim followed his line of sight and slowly peeled off Steve’s briefs. He let out a low rumble and more slick dribbled out of Steve.

“Just as pretty as I remember”, Jim said while stroking up and down his slit. He settled between Steve’s legs while Dmitri sat near the edge of the bed, waiting to be instructed. Jim took a deep breath first, then kissed at Steve’s thighs.

“See, right now, he’s being patient, ‘cause we’ve got company”, Jim started. “But if you make him wait too long, he turns into a little princess.”

“Who would be so cruel as to make him wait?”, Dmitri asked, mouth suddenly dry as he watched Jim go down.

Steve let out a soft moan at the first touch of Jim’s tongue. It was so warm and wet and familiar. He could hear Jim talking again, telling Dmitri something, but he was too far gone to care. He trusted Jim to train him well. All too soon though, Jim was pulling away and Steve whimpered at the loss.

“Shh”, Jim hushed. “It’s his turn now. Let’s see what he’s learned.”

Steve swallowed and opened his eyes to watch them switch positions. Dmitri started with kissing his thighs too, but while he did he muttered under his breath. Steve couldn’t understand it, being in Russian. He thought the sound might fill his veins with ice. But the worshipful way that Dmitri whispered against his skin was a far cry from the rough shouts of his torturers last year.

“He’s saying how beautiful you are”, Jim said. “And how grateful he is.”

If there was any doubt about that, it was washed away the moment Dmitri’s lips finally touched his own. He started with light kisses on his pussy, starting from the middle and moving down towards his taint. Then back up again leaving the last kiss at the very top of his mound. Steve spread his legs more and bucked his hips a little.

“See what I mean? He’s getting bratty”, Jim said.

“He has been deprived for months when he should have been pampered.” Dmitri met Steve’s eyes, communicating that he was going to do just that.

He put both hands on Steve, spreading his lips and holding his gaze as he licked up into him. The pinups and magazine clippings of American omega had always been a fantasy. They couldn’t be that lovely. And if so, there must be a catch. Jim had said his boy was sweet. Dmitri expected too sweet, sickly sweet even. Americans loved their sugar. But as he wrapped his lips around Steve’s clit, he knew he was wrong.

That scent, the one he couldn’t figure out. He knew what it was now. It was apples, inviting and comforting, with the rich sweetness of brown sugar. And he drank it down like a man starved. Steve’s hips rolled against his face and maybe Jim preferred to discipline and set the pace himself. But Dmitri wasn’t going to tell Steve what to do. All he could do was allow himself to be used and be thankful for the opportunity to care for an omega as handsome as him.

He could tell Steve was close when his thighs began to tremble. He even started to babble something that Dmitri couldn’t even begin to understand. But he heard Jim rumble again, this time in reassurance.

“It’s okay, Steve. You can call him that, let him know who he is.”

“D…daddy”, Steve whispered first. Then his hand came down, gripping Dmitri’s hair. Dmitri responded in kind, his hands holding tight to Steve’s thighs. The soft sensation of his beautiful pussy and the even softer hairs against his mouth, Dmitri hoped Jim knew how lucky he was. And how lucky Steve’s future alpha would be.

Steve’s whines got louder and despite himself, Dmitri thought of Yuri’s words ‘My woman makes noise when I touch her’.

“Daddy! Daddy’s so good, aaahhh-hhaa fuck!” Steve’s legs clamped around his head and Dmitri kept his lips firmly around Steve’s clit, sucking as he felt it throbbing in his mouth.

It was the most delicious gem and he didn’t want to let go. Even when he could tell Steve was done and he did release it, he kissed around it, mesmerized by the way it pulsed with aftershocks. He licked up the slick that had gushed out with his orgasm and kissed every inch of his pussy. Steve’s legs loosened around his head but his hips still rolled, albeit more lazily now. Jim chuckled from his position.

“You’ve gotta be the one to lay down the law with him”, he said. “Otherwise he’ll let you sit there all day licking him.”

“You say that like it is a bad thing. You’ve never spent a whole day giving him what he wanted?”, Dmitri asked. He moved away from Steve’s cunt to kiss his hips, his teeth coming out just slightly to nibble. He’d never dare to leave a mark.

“He only gets that special treatment during his heats.”

Jim could distinctly remember one such time. Steve had literally followed him on his rounds. He’d eaten him out on his desk, in the squad car, next to the bakery, behind the high school. His jaw had been aching by the end of it but Steve had never felt so sated.

“Shame on you, Jim. It is our duty to care for the omegas in our life, no?” Dmitri moved back to Steve’s cunt and started just as he did before, kissing up and down, spreading his lips until he was completely exposed.

Jim looked to Steve, whose eyes were half-lidded and dark with lust. “Well, what do you think?”

“I think-”, Steve started but was cut off with a moan. “I think I like him.”

#apo writes #stranger things #steve x jim #steve x dmitri #a/b/o #omegaverse #dddne

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the-starry-seas · 3 months ago

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It's my goal to finish some monthly prompt lists and I decided to let people request the characters I write about! comfy-vember is platonic hurt-comfort with an emphasis on comfort, fanovember is literary themes, and fluffcember is all fluff. Links lead to the prompt lists. Plain text prompts are below the cut and I'll cross out prompts as they're requested.

Rules:

You don't have to be following me

One request per person

Send an ask instead of a DM/reply/reblog

Name the event you're requesting for

Request two or three prompts in order of preference, in case somebody else already requested your first choice

Open to all characters and ships but SFW only

Use character names instead of ship names, and specify platonic or romantic for fanovember and fluffcember prompts

Fandoms I'm writing for:

Alien franchise excluding Romulus

AVP

Fallout (show)

Jurassic Park and Jurassic World

Killjoys

Leverage

Pacific Rim

Star Wars (any of the movies, BOBF, Bad Batch, or The Mandalorian)

The Murderbot Diaries

Titanfall 2

TMNT (Bayverse or Rise)

Transformers (Bayverse, Bumblebee, Rise of the Beasts, or TFOne)

Comfy-vember

Breaking bad habits — New day — Train ride

Favourite song — Holding hands — Walking and talking

Special breakfast — Spoon feeding — Forehead kiss

Bed rest — Mug of tea — Soft music

Saying their name — Hand on knee — Dressing fancy

Weak crying — Trusting — Slow hug

Eye of the storm — Sleeping on shoulder — First hug

Found — Thunder shower — Fresh fruit

Scars — Passing smile — Baking cookies

Overcoming fear — Sharing a bed — Lullaby

Verbal affirmation — Couch cuddles — Nose kiss

Hand on shoulder — Practical gift — Movie night

Relearning a skill — Surprise compliment — Fresh laundry

After nightmare — Day together — Random gift

Shopping trip — Storytelling — Laughing phone call

Carrying — Reading aloud — Loving gaze

Healing wounds — I love you text/note — Rain on the roof

Coming home — Kitchen dancing — Sleeping in

Putting on ointment — Thick blankets — Sunset

Desperate hug — Sharing food — Care for caregiver

Enthusiastic greeting — Late night laughter — Waking up together

Bail out — Car ride — Lamplight

Remembering medication — Art on fridge — Warm toast

Apology — Palm kiss — Campfire

Washing bloodstains — Hair brushing — Cheek kiss

Confession — Crying hug — Picnic

Promise keeping — Quick hug — Beach/waves

Cast taken off — Sleepy kiss — Hot chocolate

Showing up — Birthday gift — Bicycle

In dreams — Happy tears — Dancing in rain

Fanovember

Romance

Short story

Terror

Adventure

Art

Retelling

Historical

Journal

Theatre

Witchcraft

Religion

Fantasy

Astrology

Mithology

Poetics

Reality show

Press

Urban fantasy

Film/Movie

Family

Music

Epistolary

Sci-fi

Autobiography

Cuisine

Dance

Board games

Classic

Thriller

Flash-fiction

Fluffcember

Roasted Marshmallows

Winter Flu

Snowman

Christmas Sweater

Northern Lights

Gingerbread House

Condensed Breath

Sparkling Snow

Sugar Rush

Carols

Slippery

Skiing

Fire and Ice

Winter Soup

Naughty List

Chocolate

Snowed in

Mistletoe

Fondue

Fairy Tales

Cabin in the Snow

Winter Storm

Confessions

Christmas Tree

The Perfect Gift

Forgiveness

Family Gathering

Cold Turkey

Mint

Warming Up

Fireworks

#alien franchise #avp #fallout show #jurassic park #jurassic world #killjoys syfy #leverage #pacific rim #book of boba fett #the bad batch #the mandalorian #the murderbot diaries #titanfall 2 #bayverse tmnt #rottmnt #transformers

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cephalog0d · 24 days ago

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Fluffcember 2024 Masterpost

All the drabbles (of varying lengths) that I did for Fluffcember this year, sorted by fandom!

"Roasted Marshmallows" (Steph, Tim and Damian, double drabble)

"Winter Flu" (Cass and Damian Reverse Robins AU, triple drabble)

"Snowman" (Cass, Steph and Harper, drabble)

"Christmas Sweater" (Dick and Donna, double drabble)

"Northern Lights" (Steph and Kara, double drabble)

"Condensed Breath" (Steph, Dick and Damian, double drabble)

"Sparkling Snow" (Bruce and Kid!Dick, drabble)

"Sugar Rush" (Steph, Cass and Tim, drabble)

"Slippery" (Maps, Steph and Cass, drabble)

"Hot Bath" (Selina and Isis, double drabble)

"Chocolate" (Dick, Damian and Steph Reverse Robins AU, drabble)

"Snowed In" (Steph, Damian and Titus, double drabble)

"Fairy Tale" (DCAU Wally and Shayera, quintuple drabble)

"Cabin in the Snow" (Steph, Damian, Tim, Cass and Dick, double drabble)

"Winter Storm" (Tim and Dick, double drabble)

"The Perfect Gift" (Dick/Koriand'r, double drabble)

"Fallen Through the Ice" (Dick and Donna, double drabble)

"Family Gathering" (Cass and Duke, drabble)

"Cold Turkey" (Damian, Steph, Jason and Jerry the turkey, drabble)

"Mint" (Dick and Kid!Jason, double drabble)

"Warming Up" (Steph, Cass and Babs, drabble)

"Fireworks" (Steph and Damian, triple drabble)

Teen Wolf/DC Fusion

"Gingerbread House" (TW/DC Fusion AU, Stiles and Derek, quadruple drabble)

Dungeons and Daddies

"Carols" (Lark, Sparrow, Nick, TJ and Grant, double drabble)

"Winter Soup" (Lark, Sparrow and Nick, double drabble)

"Mistletoe" (Sparrow, Lark, Nick and others, triple drabble)

"Fondue" (Lark and Nick, drabble)

Leverage

"Naughty List" (Breanna, Harry and Parker, drabble)

"Holiday Decorations" (Parker, Eliot and Hardison, drabble)

"Fire and Ice" (Original characters, triple drabble)

#fluffcember 2024 #ceph writes things

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ate-the-wordsmith · 23 days ago

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Fluffcember 2024 Masterlist

Wow, 31 Tage Fluff. Ich hätte nicht gedacht, dass ich das durchhalte und ohne @indensternen hätte es auch sicher nicht geklappt. Sie hat selbst für die langweiligstens Prompts Idee gehabt, die dann tatsächlich zu einer halbwegs brauchbaren Geschichte gefüht haben. Und dass alles zusammen eine größere Erzählung ergibt, war dann das Tüpfelchen auf dem i 😊

Roasted Marshmallows: Spezialkaffee

Winter Flu: Erkältungswelle

Snow Man: Von Schneemännern ...

Chrsitmas Sweater: ...und Winterpullovern

Northern Lights: Wunderschöne Anblicke

Gingerbread House: Schaffe, schaffe, Häusle baue

Condensed Breath: Wölkchen

Sparkling Snow: Schneeflöckchen

Sugar Rush: Testreihen

Carols: Gemeinsamer Konzertbesuch

Slippery: Aufgefangen

Skiing: Unausgesprochenes

Fire and Ice: Guten Appetit

Winter Soup: Liebe geht durch den Magen

Naughty List: Geteiltes Leid ist halbes Leid

Chocolate: Süß und süßer

Snowed in: Retter in der Not

Mistletoe: Mistelzweig und Missgeschicke

Fondue: Essensplanung

Fairy Tales: Wie im Märchen

Cabin in the Snow: Nach Hause

Winter Storm: Zu Hause

Confessions: Klartext

Christmas Tree: Heiligabend

The Perfect Gift: Der Morgen danach

Forgiveness: Ein überfälliges Telefonat

Family Gathering: Überraschungen

Cold Turkey: Nicht mehr allein

Mint: Eine Frage des Geschmacks

Warming Up: Durchgefroren

Fireworks: Gutes neues

#fluffcember 2024 #masterpost #masterlist #tatort #tatort stuttgart #fanfic

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rebelliousstories · 1 year ago

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25 Days of Ficmas 2023

Here we go again! Ficmas 2023 will officially begin Friday December 1st, 2023. I’m really excited to add in some new characters and revisit some old ones. Without further ado, here is your 2023 Masterlist.

Hope (December 1st) Bernard the Elf

The head elf is down in the dumps, and nothing can bring him out.

Childhood (December 2nd) Poly! Lost Boys

It’s Christmas time in the cave, and the Lost Boys mate is making sure that nothing ruins it for Laddie. Nothing and no one.

Elf (December 3rd) Louie Pointe du Lac

Claudia wants to partake in the Christmas cheer and dress up for their party. With her dad’s otherwise occupied, she employs the help of the only other woman in the home.

Poinsettia (December 4th) Selina Kyle

A little Christmas cheer in their dreadful New York apartment.

Stockings (December 5th) David

This was NOT what he had in mind when someone mentioned “stockings.”

Egg Nog (December 6th) Paul

Someone really should have told Paul not to drink an entire thing of egg nog before deciding if he liked it or not.

Through The Years (December 7th) Poly Louie & Lestat

Settling down on the couch, Lestat and Louie entertain their ladies with tales of their Christmas celebrations through the years.

Candles (December 8th) Tom “Iceman” Kazansky

Tom doesn’t allow a lot of personal items in his office on base, much preferring to keep his loved ones close to his heart. But he had to have a little something.

Festive (December 9th) Jack Twist

A snowy day at the ranch is the perfect setting for some winter, holiday fun.

Naughty/Nice (December 10th) Jake Gyllenhaal

The question everyone has to ask themselves every December; are you naughty or nice?

Pine cone (December 11th) Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Jake decides that he is going to show his girlfriend the lovely Seresin family holiday tradition of making a pine bonfire in the backyard.

Yuletide (December 12th) Corey Cunningham

Christmas holds some rough memories for Corey. Luckily his lover has some ways to override Christmas memories of the past.

Sugarplums (December 13th) Donnie Darko

Do sugarplums even exist? Has anyone ever had one? Donnie surely didn’t think so.

Wreath (December 14th) Rhett Abbott

For the last time; just because it’s ring toss shaped, doesn’t mean you can play ring toss with it.

Cranberry (December 15th) Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

A certain unusual flavor that has held a special spot in the Mitchell and Bradshaw family every Christmas.

Reindeer (December 16th) Robert “Bob” Floyd

A snowy landscape, total seclusion in an Alaskan cabin, and lots of wildlife. What an interesting winter vacation.

Mistletoe (December 17th) Lestat de Lioncourt

There is one tradition that Lestat loves no matter the year or who he is spending the holidays with; mistletoe.

Candy Cane (December 18th) David Loki

How do you get a workaholic in the Christmas spirit? Asking for a friend.

Snowflakes (December 19th) Miles Miller

All the guests are taken care of for the evening, and a thick blanket of snow has descended upon the El Royale. What is a couple to do?

Caroling (December 20th) Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Walking through the military town, the Dagger team is stopped by a small group preforming.

Handmade (December 21st) Austin Butler

Nothing made Austin happier than to be home with his girlfriend for Christmas. And they said no presents!

Angel (December 22nd) Marko

Everyone can see that Marko should have been a cherub in a past life, but one person brings that fantasy to life.

Stories (December 23rd) Dwayne

When you live for a long time and never die, you pick up some interesting tid bits of history.

Home (December 24th) Athos

Is it a place or is it a person?

Merry Christmas (December 25th) Bernard the Elf

Another year has come and gone. Another Christmas success. While he would normally jump straight into work now, someone tells him to take some time off to enjoy himself.

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mylittledarkag3 · 11 months ago

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How many have you read out of the hundred?

Me: 64/100

Reblog & share your results

1. "Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen

2. "Crime and Punishment" by Fyodor Dostoevsky

3. "To Kill a Mockingbird" by Harper Lee

4. "1984" by George Orwell

5. "Great Expectations" by Charles Dickens

6. "One Hundred Years of Solitude" by Gabriel García Márquez

7. "Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Brontë

8. "The Catcher in the Rye" by J.D. Salinger

9. "War and Peace" by Leo Tolstoy

10. "The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald

11. "Moby-Dick" by Herman Melville

12. "The Odyssey" by Homer

13. "Wuthering Heights" by Emily Brontë

14. "Anna Karenina" by Leo Tolstoy

15. "The Brothers Karamazov" by Fyodor Dostoevsky

16. "The Iliad" by Homer

17. "Frankenstein" by Mary Shelley

18. "Les Misérables" by Victor Hugo

19. "Don Quixote" by Miguel de Cervantes

20. "Middlemarch" by George Eliot

21. "The Picture of Dorian Gray" by Oscar Wilde

22. "The Scarlet Letter" by Nathaniel Hawthorne

23. "Dracula" by Bram Stoker

24. "Sense and Sensibility" by Jane Austen

25. "The Hunchback of Notre-Dame" by Victor Hugo

26. "The War of the Worlds" by H.G. Wells

27. "The Grapes of Wrath" by John Steinbeck

28. "The Canterbury Tales" by Geoffrey Chaucer

29. "The Portrait of a Lady" by Henry James

30. "The Jungle Book" by Rudyard Kipling

31. "Siddhartha" by Hermann Hesse

32. "The Divine Comedy" by Dante Alighieri

33. "A Tale of Two Cities" by Charles Dickens

34. "The Trial" by Franz Kafka

35. "Mansfield Park" by Jane Austen

36. "The Three Musketeers" by Alexandre Dumas

37. "Fahrenheit 451" by Ray Bradbury

38. "Gulliver's Travels" by Jonathan Swift

39. "The Sound and the Fury" by William Faulkner

40. "Emma" by Jane Austen

41. "Robinson Crusoe" by Daniel Defoe

42. "Tess of the d'Urbervilles" by Thomas Hardy

43. "The Republic" by Plato

44. "Heart of Darkness" by Joseph Conrad

45. "The Hound of the Baskervilles" by Arthur Conan Doyle

46. "The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde" by Robert Louis Stevenson

47. "The Prince" by Niccolò Machiavelli

48. "The Metamorphosis" by Franz Kafka

49. "The Old Man and the Sea" by Ernest Hemingway

50. "Bleak House" by Charles Dickens

51. "Gone with the Wind" by Margaret Mitchell

52. "The Plague" by Albert Camus

53. "The Joy Luck Club" by Amy Tan

54. "The Master and Margarita" by Mikhail Bulgakov

55. "The Red and the Black" by Stendhal

56. "The Sun Also Rises" by Ernest Hemingway

57. "The Fountainhead" by Ayn Rand

58. "The Bell Jar" by Sylvia Plath

59. "The Idiot" by Fyodor Dostoevsky

60. "The Book Thief" by Markus Zusak

61. "The Return of Sherlock Holmes" by Arthur Conan Doyle

62. "The Woman in White" by Wilkie Collins

63. "Things Fall Apart" by Chinua Achebe

64. "Treasure Island" by Robert Louis Stevenson

65. "Ulysses" by James Joyce

66. "Uncle Tom's Cabin" by Harriet Beecher Stowe

67. "Vanity Fair" by William Makepeace Thackeray

68. "Waiting for Godot" by Samuel Beckett

69. "Walden Two" by B.F. Skinner

70. "Watership Down" by Richard Adams

71. "White Fang" by Jack London

72. "Wide Sargasso Sea" by Jean Rhys

73. "Winnie-the-Pooh" by A.A. Milne

74. "Wise Blood" by Flannery O'Connor

75. "Woman in the Nineteenth Century" by Margaret Fuller

76. "Women in Love" by D.H. Lawrence

77. "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" by Robert M. Pirsig

78. "The Aeneid" by Virgil

79. "The Age of Innocence" by Edith Wharton

80. "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho

81. "The Art of War" by Sun Tzu

82. "The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin" by Benjamin Franklin

83. "The Awakening" by Kate Chopin

84. "The Big Sleep" by Raymond Chandler

85. "The Bluest Eye" by Toni Morrison

86. "The Caine Mutiny" by Herman Wouk

87. "The Cherry Orchard" by Anton Chekhov

88. "The Chosen" by Chaim Potok

89. "The Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens

90. "The City of Ember" by Jeanne DuPrau

91. "The Clue in the Crumbling Wall" by Carolyn Keene

92. "The Code of the Woosters" by P.G. Wodehouse

93. "The Color Purple" by Alice Walker

94. "The Count of Monte Cristo" by Alexandre Dumas

95. "The Crucible" by Arthur Miller

96. "The Crying of Lot 49" by Thomas Pynchon

97. "The Da Vinci Code" by Dan Brown

98. "The Death of Ivan Ilyich" by Leo Tolstoy

99. "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire" by Edward Gibbon

100. "The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood" by Rebecca Wells

#book #booklr #books #classical literature #classic academia #penguin clothbound classics #classical books #english literature #listing #that's bloody #william shakespeare #shakespeare #anne frank #the odyssey #the divine comedy #french #literature

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angela-the-fox · 2 months ago

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☃️🎄December Calendar Checklist before Christmas in 2024/2025.🌲❄️

1. Pick a perfect tree.

2. Snowball fight.

3. Watch xmas movies.

4. Bake (gingerbread) cookies.

5. See the neighborhood lights.

6. Make snow angels.

7. Storytime.

8. Take (family) photos in the snow.

9. Wrap a gift.

10. Stay in the cabin.

11. Go ice skating.

12. Make greeting cards.

13. Make a winter playlist.

14. Go to an xmas festival.

15. Make a snowman.

16. Read stories / fair tales.

17. Drink hot cocoa.

18. Look at xmas lights.

19. Sit by the fire. (Bonus of extra cuddles, in the burrito blanket or cocoon :3)

20. Make a snow globe.

21. DYI gifts.

22. Caroling with friends/families.

23. Wear matching pj's. (W/ friend and family.)

24. Decorate the xmas tree.

25. Make a gingerbread house.

26. Burn holiday candles.

27. Read a book by a fireplace.

28. Have a party.

29. Sing festive songs.

30. Hang mistletoe / Kiss under the mistletoe (Bonus ship of Eddsworld Tord & Markus. So don't ask why.)

#angela's blog #december #checklist #before Christmas

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ausetkmt · 1 year ago

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This holiday season, many Americans will tour historic mansions in the Southern United States that are beautifully decked out in traditional wreaths, garlands and mistletoe for Christmas.

At Mount Vernon, George Washington’s Virginia mansion, tourists are promised candlelit tours and a “festive evening” of refreshments, 18th-century dancing and more. Visitors can even meet a reenactor playing Martha Washington, America’s first lady.

At the state-run Hofwyl-Broadfield Plantation Historic Site in Brunswick, Georgia, promoters promise attendees a “magical experience” during the holiday event, learning how ��Christmas was celebrated on a Southern rice plantation during the 1850s.”

What these tours teach is how rich white Southerners once celebrated Christmas: singing Christmas carols, dancing, drinking the cider brew wassail and enjoying refreshments or formal meals.

Few make a serious effort to tell what Christmas was like for the enslaved workers at these plantations before the American Civil War.

What’s missing?

When the black historian Brandon Byrd visited Belle Meade, a mansion in Nashville, Tennessee, for its Christmas tour a few years ago, he was shocked that the slave community and their harsh realities were barely mentioned. Instead, he reported, the tour guide mostly related “stories about the white men, women and children who woke up to Christmas in the mansion’s plush bedrooms.”

By the American Civil War, nearly 4 million slaves in all toiled in the Southern states, and about a million lived as servants in mansions and as field hands on large plantations with 50 slaves or more. They did almost all the grueling household and field labor that kept these places going, often sleeping and cooking in primitive cabins and working in unhealthy conditions under the threat of the whip.

In fact, the historic mansions hosting Christmas tourists never would have been built without the profits generated by slave labor. The grand Nottoway Plantation and resort in Louisiana, which traditionally puts on a Christmas event, was constructed just before the Civil War by some 155 slave workers.

Fictional tales and memoirs

In researching my 2019 book “Yuletide in Dixie,” I discovered that many historic plantation and mansion sites are reluctant to talk about slavery at their Christmas events. This is partly because administrators want to avoid topics that might make paying guests angry or uncomfortable.

But the omission of black Southerners from these holiday tales also stems from pervasive myths about slave life at Southern plantations before the Civil War.

For a long time, many people got their ideas about slavery at these places from memoirs, novels and short stories written by white Southerners after the Civil War. These stories, now outrageous for their racial stereotypes, not only justified the institution of slavery, they also made it seem like all enslaved people had fun on a Southern plantation at holiday time, dancing, singing, laughing and feasting for the holiday season, just as their masters did.

Susan Dabney Smedes, a white girl who grew up on a Mississippi plantation, published a memoir in 1887 called “Memorials of a Southern Planter” that made slave Christmases sound like wonderful times. Smedes wrote about how slaves wore their best clothes for Christmas, played a word game called “Christmas Gif’” with their white enslavers and drank eggnog their master made for them.

In a fictional tale published in the Century Magazine in 1911, an enslaved carpenter named Jerry even turns down the freedom that his master offers him on Christmas because he likes his life as a slave so much, and especially the Christmas present his master specially picks out for him each year.

Many of these memoirs and preposterous short stories and novels about happy slave Christmas experiences were so popular that they were republished in new editions over and over again from the late 1800s and early 1900s until, in some cases, the present.

Smedes’ “Memorials of a Southern Planter” was regularly republished for a century after its first appearance.

Many Americans got falsely pleasant images of slavery and especially slave Christmases from reading these works, and these wrongful impressions not only affected how the public thought and still thinks about slavery but, more specifically, how site administrators at Southern historic mansions and plantations planned their Christmas programs.

Whipped and sold on Christmas

I read many documents to find out how slaves actually spent their Christmases. The truth is deeply disturbing. The image shows the scars from whipping inflicted on the back of a slave. Mediadrumworld.com

On the one hand, the majority of enslaved people did get some them time off from work during Christmas, as well as feasts and presents. Some got to travel or to get married, privileges that they didn’t get at other times of the year. But these privileges could be withdrawn for any reason at all, and many slaves never got them at all.

Slavery was a brutal system of forced labor to enrich those same owners. Even over the holiday, masters kept the power to punish slaves. A photo taken during the Civil War shows a man who was whipped at Christmas. His back was covered with scars, showing that when masters punished the people they held in bondage, they often did so brutally.

There were other cruel forms of punishment. On one South Carolina plantation, a master angry at an enslaved woman he suspected of miscarrying her pregnancy on purpose locked her up for the Christmas holiday.

Masters sometimes forced enslaved workers to get drunk even if they did not want to drink, or wrestle with each other on Christmas simply for the amusement of the master’s family.

Likewise, I learned in my research, slaveholders bought and sold plenty of people over the holiday, keeping slave traders busy during Christmas week.

Escapes and panics over slave rebellions

It is revealing that many enslaved black Southerners also chose Christmas as the time to try to escape to freedom, despite the difficulties of traveling in cold weather with few supplies.

The famous black liberator Harriet Tubman, for example, helped her three brothers enslaved in Maryland to escape bondage over Christmas in 1854. Obviously, slaves like the Tubman brothers greatly resented their enslavement, or they would not have agreed to leave.

Evidence shows that many slaveholders knew their slaves hated their condition. Although the U.S. never had a major Christmas slave rebellion, Southern whites frequently panicked over frequent rumors that their slaves planned to revolt over the holiday. They armed themselves, conducted extra patrols, banned black people from the streets of cities and executed or whipped slaves whose behavior they thought was suspicious.

Panics over Christmas rebellions took place frequently. They were, at times, confined to a state, as in Charleston, South Carolina – then a British colony – in 1765. Or, they could spread in the entire American South, as one did in 1856. As I found in my research, Christmas revolt panics continued all the way through the Civil War.

These panics made Christmas a bad time for many slaves, who passed their Christmases in great fear that they would be rounded up and killed.

What’s changing?

Some Southern historic plantations and mansions are beginning to include a more accurate history of slavery in their presentations of the past.

Montpelier, the Virginia plantation of U.S. President James Madison, and Monticello, the famed mansion and plantation of Thomas Jefferson, for example, have been making efforts for several years now to work more accurate presentations.

Yet another onetime slave-owning president’s preserved site, James Monroe’s Highland, likewise is striving to provide a far more comprehensive look at the enslaved people who once lived there and the conditions they experienced.

There are signs that such changes are taking place elsewhere too. In 2013, for example, the Ben Lomond plantation in Virginia featured in its holiday programming the tale of how enslaved people murdered the place’s owner over Christmas. That same year, Montpelier, once home to President James Madison, asked its interpreters at Christmas to explain to visitors that whites living nearby were afraid of violence by Madison’s slaves.

Christmas programming, however, is changing more slowly than programming at other times of the year. That is because many would like the holiday event to be a fun one.

But a public acknowledgment that slavery was immoral, horrific and resisted by its victims in the form of more sensitive and informative Christmas events at historic mansions and plantations might just be a step toward racial reconciliation in the U.S.

#Slave life's harsh realities are erased in Christmas tours of Southern plantations #american slavery at christmastime #christmas as a slave in america #Blacks enslaved in america #christmas #american history #white lies

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