#gratitude garland

[lavandamichelle]

Christmas Day Fun and Quick DIY Crafts

It’s midday on Christmas, and the house is alive with joy and excitement. The gifts have been opened, the wrapping paper has been cleared, and now it’s the perfect time to bring everyone together for some festive fun! Keep the holiday cheer alive with these three simple and delightful DIY craft ideas that are sure to entertain the whole family while creating lasting memories. 1. Pinecone…

[misswynters]

A Noxian Christmas

featuring. viktor x reader

apart of the 2024 Christmas Special

Snow dusted the cobblestone streets outside as you glanced out the grand windows of your family’s Noxian estate. The sharp peaks of the towers were festooned with garlands, and the entire house smelled of spiced wine and roasted chestnuts. You had gone all out for this. This was Viktor’s first Christmas with you after all. Despite his initial hesitations, you had convinced him to leave his work behind for a few days and join you in Noxus. It would be a promising and quiet celebration without the chaos of Piltover’s politics. As always.

Viktor stood near the hearth, his golden cane leaning against the arm of a plush chair. He looked slightly out of place amidst the elegance of your home. His thin frame was draped in the dark wool sweater you’d insisted he wear. The warm glow of the fire lit his face as he fiddled with the buttons, muttering something about how “such extravagance” wasn’t necessary. Some might say it was over the top, but since you grew up with it, it was different. It was family tradition after all.

“You’re still adjusting,” you teased, stepping up behind him with a cup of mulled cider. “But trust me, you’ll thank me for getting you out of that freezing lab.”

He accepted the cup with a nod, though his sharp amber eyes scanned the room as if assessing its practicality. “It is different,” he admitted, gesturing toward the enormous tree dominating the center of the room. “I have never seen such a waste of resources in one place.”

“Viktor!” You nudged his shoulder, grinning. “It’s not a waste! It’s tradition. Besides, the tree is fake.” You couldn’t believe yours, viktor criticizing your home. In your own home during christmas season. It was despicable. Unheard of even. Maybe you were being quite dramatic. Though it earned you a small, envious smile.

After dinner which consisted of a quiet but rich meal of roasted duck and Noxian delicacies, you brought Viktor to the foyer where presents waited under the glittering tree. He froze at the sight of the neatly wrapped presents, his brow furrowing. There was quite a few that had his name on them. Some were huge and others were tiny.

“You didn’t need to do this,” he murmured, his voice quieter than usual.

“Probably not,” you admitted, sitting him down on the couch. “But I wanted to. Now, no arguments and open them.”

He sighed, but there was no real protest as he carefully undid the first present. It was a high-quality leatherbound notebook, its pages thick and unlined. Perfectly suitable for sketches and notes. His fingers ran over the cover, and you swore you saw his expression soften.

“I noticed you always run out of space in your current one,” you said.

“This is very thoughtful of you, my love. ” he said, his voice warm, if a little uncertain. “Thank you.”

“Keep going,” you urged, handing him the next one.

One by one, Viktor unwrapped the gifts: custom-fit gloves designed to protect his hands during lab work, an assortment of rare metals and components he could use for his inventions, and even a set of finely crafted gears engraved with his initials. With each gift, his protests about the extravagance softened, replaced by genuine curiosity and gratitude.

“You truly thought of everything, did you?” he said as he unwrapped a personalized toolkit. “I—this is too much.”

“It’s not too much,” you countered, sitting beside him and resting your head on his shoulder. “You give so much of yourself to your work, Viktor. To helping others. You deserve to be taken care of, too.”

He tilted his head, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. “My love,” he said softly, his accent deepened as he called you by your nickname. “I am not used to such kindness.”

“Well, get used to it,” you teased, reaching for his hand. “This is what being with me consists of. Over-the-top holidays and way too many gifts, more than you can count.”

Viktor chuckled, a rare sound that made your chest swell with warmth. “I suppose I should prepare myself for more of these traditions,” he said, though his tone was teasing. “Will there always be so many sweets?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, gesturing toward the tray of pastries you’d brought in earlier. “And don’t think I didn’t see you sneaking another slice of that chocolate tart.”

He flushed slightly but didn’t deny it. “It was adequate.”

You gasped, feigning offense. “Adequate? That tart is a masterpiece, Viktor.”

“I suppose I might require another slice to confirm my theory,” he replied, his tone perfectly deadpan, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. The night continued with quiet laughter and more stories shared. Viktor, ever the curious, asked endless questions about your family’s traditions. You told him about the history of the decorations, the origins of the dishes, and even a few embarrassing childhood memories that left him smirking.

As the fire crackled and the snow fell steadily outside, you leaned into Viktor’s side, feeling his arm shift to make you more comfortable. “Thank you for letting me pamper you for once,” you said softly.

He glanced down at you, his amber eyes catching the glow of the firelight. “Thank you for showing me something new,” he said. “Perhaps… I could learn to enjoy these traditions.”

“That’s the spirit,” you said, stifling a yawn. “Next year, we’ll make it even better.”

“Next year?” he asked, his tone laced with mock disbelief. “I will need a year to recover from this one.”

You laughed, swatting his arm gently. “Oh, please. You’ll miss it the moment you’re back in that freezing lab.”

“Perhaps,” he admitted quietly, his voice thoughtful. “Though I think it is not the place I will miss.”

You blinked, glancing up at him. The way he looked at you then with a rare, unguarded look. It made your heart stop for a second.

“Merry Christmas, Viktor,” you said softly.

He smiled, leaning his head against yours. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

taglist. @kaixvdenny @ekkosh @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @luneariaa @minagrayson @aliives @mammonsleftring @gxrextxgaidk @anna1-1 @bl-0-ndi-3

[starrysunbeam]

asteroid sweet (11727)⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍬ɞ˚‧｡⋆

asteroid sweet (11727) represents sweetness, innocent charm, and "cute" energy. when you think of america's sweethearts, they probably have this asteroid somewhere important. marilyn monroe and judy garland both have theirs in their midheaven, for example.

note: you may not resonate with an asteroid's energy unless it's prominent in your chart (ex. conjunct your sun, moon and/or rising). i'm still including a description for each house, so hopefully it resonates for you!

sweet in the 1st house ~

no matter how old you are, you have a youthful glow about you. you also have a welcome presence, so you get along with most people. people might get protective over you because of how pure you are, like an apple not meant to be poisoned. you’re very precious.

sweet in the 2nd house ~

people might like to treat you because they just feel that you deserve it! you also like to treat yourself, and do a lot of self-care. scent and taste are important to you, you want to smell good and definitely have a sweet tooth.

sweet in the 3rd house ~

well aren't you a sweet talker? you can get out of a lot just because of your endearing nature. if you have siblings, maybe you were the favored child, or your parents always believed you over others. if you like to sing, your voice may sound almost childlike, kind of like beabadoobee.

sweet in the 4th house ~

your family most likely doted over you as you grew up. this placement reminds me of someone who'd want a cute vintage home, maybe a victorian cottage. perhaps you like gifting homemade baked goods to loved ones.

sweet in the 5th house ~

you probably like the cutecore aesthetic and colors like pink and peach. you remind me of someone who’d like sanrio, strawberry shortcake, things like that. you probably experience baby fever often (or puppy/kitten fever).

sweet in the 6th house ~

you have a soft, kind approach when it comes to taking care of others. you might prefer sweet to savory in your diet. gratitude is a healing practice for you.

sweet in the 7th house ~

you love to be around people who you deem as sweet. you’re drawn to more feminine, lighthearted energy. you show your sweet side more in your relationships than on a normal basis.

sweet in the 8th house ~

when you act all cute and sweet, it turns people on. it’s giving pillow princess vibes. you might not always feel like you can personify this energy a lot, but it comes out in your intimate relationships.

sweet in the 9th house ~

you probably think young people have the best view on the world, full of possibilities and kind of guarded from the harsher realities. the world is like an ice cream shop and you have yet to try all the flavors!

sweet in the 10th house ~

america’s sweetheart energy. your charm is effortless. you might get frustrated at times because people treat you younger than you are, or act like you’re inexperienced, especially at work. i imagine you’d be the good face of a company, whether a ceo or receptionist or model, because no one can deny that smile.

sweet in the 11th house ~

you remind me of the kind of person who’d befriend the outcast at school, you’re just really nice. it’s not that you take pity, you just see the good in everyone. you might be involved in charity or volunteer work.

sweet in the 12th house ~

you might feel like your kindness has been weaponized too many times, so your patience with people has run thin. since the 12th house can indicate hidden enemies, be wary of those who are sweet to your face but something else behind your back. you need to be gentle with yourself, healing your inner child is of importance here.

[malleleothreesome]

Under the Mistletoe with Malleus

❤️ summary: Malleus' latest hyperfixation is mistletoe ༶༶༶ 💚 warnings: gender neutral reader, SFW, fluff, romance, Christmas centric but not religious ༶༶༶ ❤️ word count: 4k ༶༶༶ 💚 inspired by: this ask thank you! ♡✧*:･ﾟ

Malleus listens intently to all the tales you have to tell, all the little pieces of your world, of yourself—all the little snippets that come rushing out from the recesses of your memories, painting a picture of your humanity and the universe you'd once inhabited. All the intricacies and details of how your family would spend Christmas, the foods, the gifts, the songs—he loves hearing all about your unique traditions and experiences. Malleus is endlessly grateful for each of these recollections that you decide to entrust him with—small moments of personal history that hold so much weight in shaping who you are. Your mind runs wild as your thoughts run rampant, a blur of vivid recollections that overwhelm you. Then, he sees the tears brimming on your lash line and the tremble of your lower lip, his heart sinking instantly when the painful weight of homesickness visibly crashes down upon you. His own emotions, his yearning, his gratitude are all clogged up in his throat. When the tears finally drip past your lashes and down your cheeks, you're swaddled in strong, firm arms that cradle you. Malleus doesn't bother with words as he shushes your sobs, only offering his comfort with the secure tuck of your frame against his larger form, and the gentle tracing of his elegant, gloved fingertips along the curve of your back in soothing circles. His soft humming is melodious against the crook of your shoulder, warm and welcoming as he surrounds you completely.

Wanting to make the Christmas season extra special for you, his dearest friend, Malleus spends copious hours poring over the plethora of holiday books he could acquire from the school library—reading and studying each festive tale, tradition, and legend until the pages are wrinkled with the oils from his fingertips. Each chapter carefully absorbed and ingrained into his psyche, his eyes sparkling alight with delight and fascination, relishing in the lightness and warmth of the holidays as he familiarized himself with this magical and jovial festivity. When Christmas rolls around the corner, Malleus ensures the front entrance to Ramshackle dorm is lit up and decked to the nines in brightly glowing lights strung all over the framework—an aura of luminescence and color enveloping the dilapidated architecture with festive spirit. The rest of the exterior of the Dorm was covered with glittering golden tinsel, wreaths, garlands and pinecones—whatever he had deemed as festive in his extensive research.

Malleus was determined to honor this strange holiday—a special and important part of your childhood—but unfortunately, none of the decorations, lights, or Christmas cheer were quite as meaningful and special as what he wanted it all to symbolize. When he heard about the tradition involving a parasitic plant, he was naturally intrigued by the idea that a plant would wilt away and die if not united with a particular organism—it could only flourish and thrive when entwined with its complementary other half. In return, the mistletoe would provide both beautiful flowers and ripe fruit, enhancing the lives of the forest around them and fostering harmony within the ecosystem. However, it was the usage of that plant during a kiss that truly made him delighted by its macabre nature and its value to this sacred human festivity. It seemed befitting somehow that the now dead mistletoe, the melancholy parasite that thrives in connection with others, could bring a measure of life and happiness to all who cross its path through a kiss under its eternal, desiccated embrace. Perhaps, this tradition could serve as his best effort to explain that this gesture was intended as a token of appreciation for the kindness you have extended to him—the pleasure and privilege of having you, such a splendid and bright star, in his dark and dreary world—his reward to you for making him feel alive with such an overwhelming sense of happiness that he didn't even know the sensation could exist until you entered into his life. For Malleus, you were the one to awaken him, to pull him from a long slumber and into your embrace, allowing him the privilege of knowing warmth, love, and joy once more. A ghost of a smile appears on his lips, unbidden, as he imagines the roots of the mistletoe spreading through both your lungs, finding nourishment in each other's energy, a complete symbiosis.

Malleus desired so much that your connection would be reciprocal, as intimate and profound as the magic of this holiday would allow. Though your relationship up until this point has remained platonic, he hopes the magic of this custom might give him permission to love and cherish you as so much more. From the moment he first laid his eyes on you, his heart had already made his decision. That fiery intensity of emotion for you has only been compounded with each meeting the two of you have shared—the yearning that only grows stronger with each moment he spends at your side. His feelings for you have reached a saturation point; the deep well of passion and affection that burns ever stronger within the confines of his chest will not be extinguished unless the source of all his turmoil is revealed and answered in due kind. At long last, he wastes no time in preparing the customary kiss. His heart yearns so dearly for it that even the constant tug of his usual shyness and trepidation could never possibly bring him to halt in his advances. Malleus promised himself that the delicate, thriving thing you and he were developing would not fall prey to the same pitiful demise as the mistletoe if left untouched and unwatered. If you did indeed feel similarly about him, he could only imagine the beauty and majesty that would blossom between your intertwined souls, a union of great and unstoppable potency, a lifetime of adoration and devotion.

Therefore, he procured a large branch of mistletoe, so ripe and abundant with sprigs that its small, white berries shimmered and shone. The hanging plant seemed to call out, in a sing-song tinkle of fairy bell laughs, for his beloved to walk underneath, so he could ensnare you in its clutches and give you an obligatory kiss you couldn’t refuse—or so he hoped. Malleus wrapped the strand with some festive red ribbon, decorated with twirling glittery snowflakes, making it shimmer under the twinkling rays of Christmas light. Then, he carefully balanced the mistletoe at the highest point above the doorsill and stepped back, admiring the way the golden glow of the lights would reflect off the glossy white berries, casting them in an ethereal iridescent glow that made them pop, dancing across its branches as though possessed by some Christmas spirit. They sang for you, just waiting for you to take Malleus up on their unspoken promise of his unrequited, hidden desires for your lips.

With that, Malleus knocked on your door. Though, despite his determination and his willpower—so vast and endless that his ambition was virtually limitless—Malleus couldn't help but be flustered, his hands trembling and sweat forming along his brow, heart rate beginning to rise like a swelling wave until he could hear it beating in his pointed ears. The silence that engulfed him was deafening as his mind replayed the myriad ways you might respond to his advances—sharing his sentiments, returning his affections, giving him the opportunity to finally love and kiss you the way he so desperately, hopelessly yearned. Or—perhaps, his advances could have an unwanted negative reaction, creating friction or even destroying your friendship—if not the very love he sought—completely. Undeterred by the looming anxiety that threatens to drown him like a tempest-wrought sea, his heart manages to remain valiant and brave, the steady rhythm keeping him tethered, ensuring him the courage to risk the possibility of breaking apart and dissipating with the winter wind that sieves through his lithe fingers.

As he hears the creaking footsteps along the old staircase inside, the adrenaline kicks in, giving him the fight or flight impulse he has been lacking, his legs stiffening, threatening to buckle from his immense nerves, knees trembling so harshly that he almost loses his balance. He shuts his eyes, trying to brace himself for whatever comes next, not allowing himself to breathe again until the knob finally gives way and the door is thrown open. At last, Malleus gazes upon your dazzling appearance, flooding his vision with an image he's dreamed about for weeks: you stand before him, bathed in the bright, effervescent light, glittering hues of gold and green like a present wrapped up just for him. Before he even allows you a moment to compose yourself and register his presence, Malleus can't help himself, the need to let his words rush out overwhelming him until his syllables practically stumble over each other.

"I wish to partake in the traditional parasite with you," he tells you quickly, trying to sound confident despite the urgent desperation to speak leaking through in his strained vocal chords, struggling to hide the shakiness that attempts to invade and taint the voice he wanted to convey his longing for you with. His words are filled with hope and trepidation, his emerald eyes wide with vulnerability as the mistletoe glistens under the shimmer of lights he personally strung up, bathing the two of you and your surroundings in a magnificent luminance that casts a perfect spellbinding glow upon the scene. Your mouth falls slightly ajar as your eyelids flutter in confusion before registering his intention, noticing the way his expectant eyes dart between your lips and the hanging plant above your door frame, his intense gaze giving you the most telling implication. The sudden realization of his motive renders your whole being paralyzed. Your face heats up from the sheer impossibility of the moment and your brain fizzles into a complete and utter daze, unsure how to comprehend the enormity of the offer he's extending.

An eternity seemed to pass as the seconds ticked on, his dark brows knitting together as the mist and tension seemed to wrap around the both of you. The sting of the cold wind whistled past the space that seemed to shrink between the two of you in unbearable torment. A curtain of lacy snow was falling around, shrouding everything in a dull glow. The night itself seemed to be in a strange sort of serenity and apprehension—watching his eyes lock onto you so intently and feeling his breath, hot and heavy, mingling in the frost between the two of you. The foggy mist of the cool evening air floats through your hair, tiny particles of frozen water suspended around you and shimmering brilliantly as the beams of multicolored lights shine past and illuminate each crystalline droplet in a celestial aura.

Despite it all, your focus was on him alone.

Finally, he was able to collect the breath stolen from his lungs and continue his confession, taking your floundering silence as an invitation for his explanation. "I had wished to spend some time with you under a mistletoe, even though this is something that humans usually do with their partners or loved ones..." he admits sheepishly. You couldn't stop the gasp that escaped your lips when you saw how glassy and emotive his eyes were, the sparkling lights catching the yellow flecks in his viridescent stare.

A shadowy flush washes over his pale complexion as he allows the words he had tried so long to repress to come flowing freely from his lips. "I've noticed how sad you seemed since you were removed from your world, and I wanted to bring you a little of the Christmas cheer you're accustomed to. I wanted to ensure we'd have a pleasant Christmas, especially with how often you've shown me such loving kindness," a sigh escaped his throat, "you've gone to such great lengths, I wanted you to know just how much you mean to me..." His fingers thread together anxiously as he continues his ramblings. "I was so excited to learn the Christmas tales, legends, and histories behind all the traditions... There is so much joy and good-will involved. It seemed a befitting way to honor our time together. As my beloved friend—," his tone holds a subtle note of reluctance to his last statement as he lingers on the term a bit too long. "I wanted to ensure your time in Twisted Wonderland wasn't depressing, and that you experienced Christmas as best you could under your circumstances." The more his sentences seem to elongate, the further he's pulled into himself and begins to overthink every minuscule aspect of his interaction.

The wind picks up slightly, blowing his silky, ebony locks away from his forehead, revealing the shiny scales that cascade up the top half of his head as his horns poke out through the billowing strands. His long, heavy cloak trails behind him, sweeping up the fresh piles of glittery snowfall, shimmering under the auras of the decorative lights he painstakingly strung for you. Malleus was so imposing in the darkness of the night—there's an ineffable beauty to it as his skin seems to emit its own soft glow. Yet, despite his frightening appearance, he appears so docile and timid standing before you with his head bowed, one foot dragging the toe of his boot along the white slush and ice, kicking clumps of snowy wisps, attempting to abate his mounting anxiety.

"...Are you aware, child of man, of the nature and symbolism of the mistletoe?" He pauses and peers into your eyes, emerald pools pleading for mercy as a crack opens within him, revealing his fluttering soul for your scrutiny, allowing you to glimpse his emotional state in a rare display. "Mistletoe requires the partnership and nourishment of another to keep it flourishing—without its partner, it will wither and die a gruesome death, gasping, desperate, starving..." The strain on his tone is audible, words full of unspeakable yearning as he pines so desperately, the loneliness of centuries seeming to distill within a single, all-encompassing desire for your acceptance and love. His Adam's apple bobs with a hard gulp of apprehension as he seeks the approval he longs for deep within your gaze, hoping he has finally found the love of which he has searched for since the first heartbeat he has taken.

"No matter where it falls, or how strong its stem or seed, it will perish without another plant to sustain and nurture it," his explanation was grave and yet somehow poetic, holding you entranced with rapt attention. Each sentence was meant to mimic his struggle—the endless waiting, and the desperate need for companionship that has weighed so heavy on his aching heart for so long. The solemn confession of a hopeless romantic, yearning desperately for the chance to take root, plant his soul and spread until all the ache was gone, replaced by the warmth and fulfillment of life only a partner could give him.

"And yet, if the two plants come into symbiosis with each other, the result is breathtaking—one would not expect something so simple would possess such transcendent beauty and vibrance," his melodic tenor takes on an ethereal quality, as the wondrous facts he learned are once again brought to the surface, replacing the melancholy in the air. "Mistletoe is capable of blossoming to life; producing flowers and bearing fruits when combined with its host, providing an environment for both plants to flourish and thrive," his heart picks up its pace at the subtle meaning and implication behind his words. "Once a healthy mistletoe becomes entangled with its beloved, the pair remain connected and thrive, ultimately strengthened by the bonds forged in interdependency, blooming brightly against the frigid temperatures of winter." Malleus' soul is brimming and bubbling over with the hope and anticipation of a relationship with you and, in an instant, Malleus understands what it truly means to be alive.

"Since you first crossed my path, the mistletoe within my chest grew with such ravenous appetite, longing to reach out to your heart and find harmony, sharing in warmth and nurturing life. You, my lovely starlight, are a plant of the utmost virtue," he gently caresses your cheek as you fall deeper under his enchantment. His words have rendered you completely immobilized, the smooth silk of his voice ensnaring you, unable to escape its sweet whispers and dulcet tone. "For the first time in all of my years, the bud inside me began to bear fruit and opened my eyes to a paradise I never thought possible. Through a simple act of your kindness, you have breathed life into my tired and aching heart and granted me new purpose." Malleus cups your face so delicately, long, tapered fingers stroking the curve of your cheekbones in loving affection. He gazes at you with glowing, adoring eyes, staring deep into the infinite possibilities of your future together. The soft plumes of the falling snowflakes softly embrace you as his feather-light touch communicates all his longing and unspoken passions. You allow yourself to bask in the tender and raw vulnerability of his heart as the glimmering lights and stars in the sky shine with the promise of a brighter tomorrow for you both.

"I had spent many years in unending isolation. Each passing second in your presence was the happiest, most indescribable euphoria. It took a considerable amount of time to discover these feelings and become aware that they are associated with the yearning for intimacy, something which I was denied for a great amount of my lifespan. I've long desired the things I've learned your Christmas legends signify," the words leave him on a wistful sigh, an endless source of elation. "Of family, comfort, love... All that I desire for Christmas is you," he concludes softly. "It was thanks to my research into the mistletoe that I realized how much I needed your lips as though without them I would never draw another breath, so I ask... Do you wish to be mine? Could I have the gift of your lips, of a kiss?" he requests breathlessly as the tip of his tapered thumb ghosts across the flesh of your plush lower lip, sending shivers throughout your whole being.

At last, the confessions of his affections toward you reach their inevitable resolution, allowing the culmination and coalescence of every feeling and emotion within his soul to burst forth like fireworks, shooting off into the midnight air in an explosion of beauty and intensity that would cause any witness to pause and stare in awe of the magic of the night. Like the soft, romantic tones of Christmas music and the enchanted glimmers of holiday lights, Malleus' spell woven in the lyrics of his confession engulfs you in an aurora borealis of ardent devotion. The feeling of his hands against your cheeks radiates warmth and comfort as he cradles your visage close, tender and secure against the soft flurries that flow all around you, surrounding you with an intimate aura of holiday mirth. You find yourself leaning into his touch as your heart and soul yearn to return the depths of his affection, so openly displayed across his handsome, captivating features. With a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, your knees threatening to buckle from his searing yet unyielding stare, you gather the strength to utter the most wonderful syllables you have ever experienced the pleasure of pronouncing—the sum of every single one of his blessings wrapped up neatly into one succinct phrase.

"I love you, too."

Your voice was shaky, unsteady, cracking under the emotion, but the message was unmistakable. The intensity of the moment rendered Malleus stunned and speechless, tears of delight stinging his emerald eyes, brimming at the waterline with the intensity of his joy. Every single day was spent thinking of the next instance where the two of you might cross paths and now, you'd just given him the most spectacular present in the world. Malleus doesn't think about anything else, he just leans in, lips parted ever so slightly, barely containing the gasping breath that escapes his throat as his nose nudges yours and his entire world collapses upon itself before igniting with an incandescence of pure elation. With all the delicate adoration of his whole, enchanted being, he offers you a sweet brush of his soft, inviting lips against yours. A whimper emanates from his mouth as a trembling sob of disbelief is unleashed, reverberating between the two of you and sending every last vestige of his restrained sentiment into you, engulfing your heart in a fervid embrace that crushes you with all the weight of his desperation—his centuries' worth of desire and craving for an end to his misery.

Despite having never been kissed, his lips moved confident and gentle, as though it were as natural as his very breath, or the thrum of his heart. The sensations were unparalleled—better than his wildest expectations as your flesh entwined with his, mingling the pliant texture and pillowy warmth. A satisfied sigh rolls past his tongue, which teases the seam of your mouth, offering gentle, fleeting sensations as he licks and teases your bottom lip. A series of jolts rock your frame when his fangs accidentally nip at the skin. The sound that leaks from his throat as he swipes his tongue over the wound and laps up the warm, metallic liquid of your blood is guttural and broken with the raw emotion of being deprived of such ecstasy for so long. It was heavenly—to finally be united and experience the taste of love, passion, and the transcendent rapture of the one and only person to ever make him feel such happiness. 

He swallows every whimper and moan of your kiss, reveling in the sounds that permeate through your entangled forms and dance on the frosted wind. Your fingers come to thread through his silk-like locks, nails grazing his scalp until a shudder rattles his chest and his tongue can't help but invade the hot, wet cavern of your mouth. There's a subtle pressure placed on the base of your skull, adding a deeper angle, so that he may completely envelope and taste the sweetness of your saliva as you revel in each other. When the chill of the winter winds brings forth the full impact of the cold, and the mistletoe spins aimlessly under its icy breath, swaying above, you are undeterred in the bliss of your newfound love. Your noses smudge as you press yourself further, gaining deeper contact and savoring each brush of his deft, explorative tongue and the tickle of his heated breath fanning against the sensitive surface of your palette. The kiss sparks flames within you that make you forget the bitter chill, warming the deepest crevices of your core, staving off the frigidness of the night and replacing it with the cozy, fluffy heat of your love. You clutch desperately, latching onto the black tailcoat and pressing the muscles and softness of your bodies even closer, desperate for each touch, wanting him as close to your form as you can manage. The fullness of your feelings for each other, and the completeness of his confession, finally come together in a bittersweet, perfect dance of two souls. Forever bound, hearts thudding in unison as you two continue to exchange kisses underneath the mistletoe, filling this merry season with newfound glee and a holiday tradition all your own.

When you two finally make it inside, you sit comfortably with his arms wrapped around you atop a pile of plush blankets, surrounded by mounds of pillows under the twinkling lights of the massive tree he had erected and draped in garland. Next to him, there was nowhere better you'd rather be, snuggling deeper into his warmth, burying yourself in his embrace and cuddled tight under his heavy, weighted cloak as the roaring fire before you burned in a warmth that reflected that of the deep, profound affection the two of you shared for each other. As he held you in his lap, surrounded by the soft music playing in the background and the decorations he'd strung, he looks at you with excitement alight on his beautiful visage, eager to share more fun facts about his latest hyperfixation. With the shimmering lights refracting across the deep emerald pools of his gaze, he starts to ramble, "Did you know, mistletoe is also a sacred symbol of fertility—"

Woah, woah, woah, woah... I just spent all day working on this, its like, 10:30pm and now I'm just now eating mac and cheese for dinner. I really love what I created, I hope you all do too. This was fulfilling a request for my 12 Days of TWSTmas event, so uh, anon, I'm not sure if this is what you expected of me... I think I projected my own newfound mistletoe hyperfixation onto Malleus a bit too hard, but I hope this meets your expectations. I'm desperate to hear all your thoughts on this one, I really want you guys to love this as much as I do! I wish I had more to say here, but my brain is melting. My exhausted brain longs to sign this off like a corporate email. Best, Erica Malleleothreesome

[deafeningladyruins]

A Christmas Surprise

The abandoned carnival, usually a place of eerie silence and haunting memories, had transformed into a winter wonderland. Art the Clown had spent weeks preparing for this moment, determined to give her a Christmas she would never forget. He wanted to show her that beneath his eerie exterior, he could be tender and caring. It all began one crisp evening when she returned from a walk to find the carnival unusually quiet. The entrance, usually marked by rusting gates, now glowed with a string of twinkling lights. She followed the path illuminated by the lights, her curiosity growing with each step. As she rounded the corner, her breath caught in her throat.

Before her stood a sight that seemed straight out of a dream. The dilapidated rides and booths were adorned with garlands, wreaths, and ornaments. Strings of colorful lights crisscrossed above, casting a warm, festive glow over everything. Snow, either real or an illusion Art had conjured, blanketed the ground, adding a magical touch to the scene.

"Art?" she called out softly, her voice trembling with awe and emotion.

From behind a large, decorated Christmas tree, Art the Clown emerged, dressed in a Santa Claus suit. His ever-present smile now filled with pride and anticipation. He held out his hand, and she took it without hesitation, letting him lead her deeper into the transformed carnival. He had set up a cozy area with a makeshift fireplace, crackling with faux flames that provided both warmth and light. There was a small table laid out with a festive feast—roasted vegetables, steaming bowls of soup, and a perfectly cooked roast. Art gestured for her to sit, his eyes twinkling with delight.

As they enjoyed their meal, she couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the effort and love Art had poured into this surprise. "Art, this is incredible. How did you manage all of this?"

Art's silent response was a gentle squeeze of her hand and a warm smile. After dinner, he led her to a small stage, where a phonograph stood ready with an old record. He placed the needle carefully, and soon, the air was filled with the soft, melodic strains of a Christmas waltz.

Art extended his hand once more, inviting her to dance. She accepted, and they began to waltz under the twinkling lights, their movements graceful and synchronized. The world outside ceased to exist as they lost themselves in the music and each other.

"You're full of surprises," she whispered, her heart swelling with love and gratitude.

Art's eyes softened as he leaned in closer, brushing his lips against hers in a tender kiss. The moment was perfect, a blend of romance and magic that seemed to freeze time itself. As the song came to an end, Art took her hand and led her to a small clearing where a sprig of mistletoe hung from the highest branch of a bare tree. He pointed up, drawing her attention to the delicate green plant. She looked up and then back at him, a smile playing on her lips.

"Mistletoe?" she asked with a playful glint in her eyes. "How traditional of you."

Art's eyes twinkled with mischief as he leaned in, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. The world around them melted away, leaving only the warmth of their embrace and the electricity of their connection. The kiss deepened, a silent testament to their love that transcended words. Afterward, Art led her to a cozy tent adorned with soft blankets and pillows, creating a sanctuary of comfort and warmth. Inside, the tent was warm and inviting, with more twinkling lights casting a gentle glow. Art had prepared everything to make her feel cherished and loved.

She climbed into the bed he had arranged, feeling the soft, comforting embrace of the blankets. "Art, will you stay with me tonight?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to be alone."

Art nodded, his smile gentle and reassuring. He lay down beside her, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. As they cuddled together, the warmth of their bodies and the soft glow of the lights created a cocoon of safety and love.

Art rested his head on her chest, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. For the first time in his twisted existence, he felt a profound sense of peace and belonging. She stroked his hair gently, her touch soothing and tender.

"Thank you, Art," she murmured, her eyes closing as she drifted off to sleep. "This is the best Christmas I've ever had."

As the night wore on, they lay entwined in each other's embrace, finding solace and comfort in their shared love. In their hidden sanctuary, amidst the remnants of a forgotten carnival, they had found a place where their hearts could be free—a place where even the darkest souls could find light and love.

———

I’m back, I apologise there were a lot of stuff going on but I made it, hope you guys enjoy this little story.

Other stories

A Silent Affection

Carnival of Shadows

[muiitoloko]

Turpin’s Unspoken Love

Summary: Beneath the stoic mask of Judge Turpin lies a man who loves deeply but silently. As he watches his wife and children decorate the Christmas tree, Turpin realizes he is bound to his family by a love he never expected, a love that fills their home with a quiet, unspoken warmth.

Pairing: Judge Turpin × Fem! Reader

Warnings: None

This work is part of my "Love?" Series.

Also read on Ao3

As the flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over the room, you and the children busied yourselves with decorating the grand Christmas tree Turpin had reluctantly agreed to have in the house. It was a luxury he would once have deemed frivolous, but the small joy it brought to the household—and especially to you—had slowly eroded his objections over the years. Now, as he stood back, leaning on his cane, he found himself quietly watching the scene with a mix of skepticism and a newfound appreciation for the holiday.

Sophia, ever eager to please her father, glanced over her shoulder and called, "Father, will you not help us? Just this once?"

Turpin’s hooked nose twitched, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He shook his head, his baritone voice softening as he replied, "Decorating is best left to you and your mother, my dear. I will observe and ensure everything is done properly."

Despite his refusal, he couldn’t take his eyes off the scene before him. The sight of his children, bright-eyed and laughing as they hung garlands and delicate ornaments, stirred something deep within him. His gaze drifted to you, and a subtle warmth softened the hard lines of his expression. You moved gracefully around the tree, reaching up to place a particularly lovely ornament near the top. He watched as you brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, a simple gesture that somehow reminded him of the first time he’d set eyes upon you.

Back then, you had been the daughter of mere pig farmers, a young woman with no wealth or name to speak of. He had chosen you not for love or companionship, but for your beauty—a pretty thing to warm his bed, someone to bear his children and keep his house. Yet here you were, more than he’d ever dreamed you would be. Under his guidance, you had grown into a woman of grace, strength, and kindness. You were the wife he never realized he wanted, the mother his children adored, and the keeper of his heart, though he would never admit such a thing aloud.

A wave of emotion washed over him as he stood there, watching you laugh softly as Belladonna proudly held up a lopsided ornament she’d made herself. He hadn’t planned for this—hadn’t intended for you to capture his heart so completely. In those early days, he had expected obedience and loyalty, but he had never counted on the warmth and love that had slowly crept into his life, thanks to you. And now, as he looked at the family you had given him, he felt an unfamiliar ache in his chest, a mixture of gratitude and disbelief.

What had he done to deserve this? Three beautiful children who looked up to him, a wife who stood by his side even on his darkest days, and a home filled with laughter he hadn’t known he needed. This was never the life he had planned, but it was a life he now cherished.

The soft sound of your laughter pulled him from his thoughts, and his hazel eyes lingered on you, admiring the way you moved with such ease and contentment. He had never expected to find a love like this—a love that held him captive, wrapped around your finger, willing to do nearly anything to see you smile. You had become his light, his anchor, and though he would never say it outright, you had claimed his soul in a way that frightened and humbled him all at once.

As you turned and caught his gaze, your smile softened, and you gave him a look that spoke of years of shared moments, of a love that had been built slowly and carefully. Turpin’s expression softened in return, his usual stern mask slipping for just a moment, revealing a vulnerability that only you could bring out in him.

“Are you sure you won’t join us?” you asked gently, holding out an ornament, inviting him to be part of this moment.

For a brief moment, he considered it, but his pride wouldn’t let him. “I think not,” he murmured, his voice a quiet rumble. “I’ll leave the frivolities to you and the children.”

But even as he spoke, a hint of a smile touched his lips, and he gave you a nod of approval, a silent acknowledgment that, in his own way, he was grateful for this moment—for you, for the life you had given him, and for the unexpected happiness he had found in his little family.

In that quiet room, surrounded by the laughter of his children and the soft glow of candlelight, Turpin realized that he had everything he could ever want, right there by his side.

As the room filled with the soft glow of candlelight and the scent of fresh pine from the Christmas tree, Belladonna approached her father with a determined look on her face. She clasped the delicate star ornament in her small hands, her eyes shining with excitement as she gazed up at the top of the tree.

"Father," she began with her usual boldness, “may I place the star at the top? Please, lift me up!”

You watched her with a mixture of amusement and concern. The idea of Richard straining himself in any way, given his age and the toll that years of hard living had taken on his body, was worrisome. “Belladonna, perhaps another time. Your father doesn’t need to make the effort,” you interjected gently, glancing at Turpin, hoping he would agree.

But Richard’s hooked nose twitched slightly, and a flicker of defiance crossed his features as he met your gaze. He set his cane aside, ignoring your cautious protests, and reached down to lift Belladonna with surprising strength. In one swift movement, he hoisted her onto his shoulders, his hands firm at her sides as he steadied her. His hazel eyes sparkled with a rare warmth as he looked up, encouraging her to place the star with pride.

Belladonna squealed with delight, her small hands carefully positioning the star on the highest branch, her dark curls bouncing as she secured it in place. “There! Isn’t it perfect?” she exclaimed, glancing down at her father with a beaming smile.

Sophia, not wanting to miss out on the fun, tugged on her father’s coat, her eyes wide with longing. “Father, I want to be lifted too!” she pleaded, her voice soft but filled with an unmistakable eagerness.

Richard hesitated, clearly feeling the strain but unwilling to disappoint his other daughter. With a gruff smile, he gave a small nod and, after helping Belladonna down, bent to scoop up Sophia. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he carefully lifted her onto his shoulders, her quiet giggles filling the room as she took in the view from above.

Meanwhile, ten-year-old William stood near the fireplace, content in his own quiet way. He was busily arranging his stockings on the mantelpiece, carefully smoothing out the fabric and ensuring each one hung just right. He glanced over his shoulder at his sisters and father, a soft smile crossing his face as he watched them share in the moment. Though quieter and more reserved than his sisters, William’s joy was evident in the gentle way he placed each stocking, his own form of contribution to the family’s holiday cheer.

As Sophia finally settled back on the ground, she and Belladonna gazed up at the tree, both girls enchanted by the star shining brightly at the top. The flickering light danced in their eyes, filling them with a wonder that only children could truly feel.

Turpin, feeling the familiar ache in his joints from the exertion, leaned heavily on his cane once more, but his face held an uncharacteristically soft expression. He glanced at you, catching the warmth in your eyes as you watched him, and allowed himself a small smile.

"Are you pleased, my dear?" he murmured, his baritone voice softened by an unspoken affection.

You nodded, your heart full. “Very much so, Richard. And so are they.”

As the family settled in to admire the decorated tree, you looked around at the scene, feeling a sense of gratitude for this rare evening of peace and togetherness. This Christmas, you realized, was a moment to cherish, a brief glimpse of the love and happiness you all shared, even in the presence of a man as complex and formidable as Richard Turpin.

William, hesitant at first, moved towards his father, his small hands reaching up as if to hug him. Turpin’s face twisted in surprise, his brows pulling into a stern frown. “Now, now, William,” he protested, his voice gruff, clearly uncomfortable. “Men don’t… do such things as… hugging.”

But his words held little weight, especially when Belladonna and Sophia saw what their brother was trying to do. With bright smiles, they rushed to their father’s side, wrapping their little arms around him, and pulling William along, ignoring his protestations entirely. “Father, don’t be silly!” Belladonna insisted with a laugh, looking up at him with her wide, knowing eyes. “It’s Christmas! Everyone hugs at Christmas!”

For a moment, Turpin remained stiff, his arms held awkwardly at his sides as the three children clung to him. He seemed unsure, his stern expression faltering as his gaze shifted from William’s hopeful eyes to Belladonna’s mischievous grin, and finally to Sophia’s quiet, gentle smile.

Seeing this rare, vulnerable moment, you joined them, slipping your arms around your family, bringing them all together in a warm embrace. Turpin hesitated, his hooked nose twitching as if to protest, but something in his hazel eyes softened. His stern demeanor melted just a bit, and with a deep sigh, he gave in, wrapping his arms around you all, holding you close.

Slowly, his hand moved to rest on William’s head, his fingers brushing through his son’s hair in a gentle stroke, something he rarely allowed himself to do. Then, he did the same to his daughters, his hand lingering on their heads, a rare tenderness in his touch as he allowed himself this quiet, heartfelt moment.

Finally, his gaze settled on you, his expression softening in a way he reserved for no one else. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his eyes conveying the love he struggled to voice. It was a small gesture, but one filled with years of unspoken emotion, an acknowledgment of the life you had built together.

In that quiet moment, surrounded by your children and the warmth of your family’s embrace, Judge Richard Turpin—the stern, unyielding man—allowed himself to be simply Richard, the husband and father who cherished the life he’d found. And as you stood there, the flickering candlelight casting a soft glow over your family, you knew this was a memory you would carry in your heart forever.

[inkspiredwriting]

A Hargreeves Wedding Anniversary

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

The Hargreeves home was abuzz with excitement as preparations for Five and Y/n Hargreeves’ wedding anniversary celebration were underway. The dining room was filled with the warm glow of candles and fairy lights, and the table was set with a feast worthy of the occasion.

Five’s siblings bustled about, adding their unique touches to the festivities. Klaus had strung up a mishmash of decorations, ranging from elegant garlands to a slightly tattered “Happy Anniversary” banner he’d found in a thrift shop. Luther was in charge of the grill outside, cooking up a storm. Diego set up a makeshift dance floor in the living room, while Allison curated a playlist of romantic songs. Viktor was tuning his violin, ready to provide a musical backdrop, and Ben and Sloane were handling drinks and dessert.

Five and Y/n were in their bedroom, getting ready for the evening. Y/n adjusted her dress in the mirror, a soft, flowing number that made her look radiant.

“You look stunning,” Five said, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“And you look incredibly handsome,” Y/n replied, turning in his embrace. Five was dressed in a sharp suit, a sight that made Y/n’s heart flutter.

“Can you believe it’s been eight years?” Five mused, resting his forehead against hers.

“Feels like yesterday we were saying ‘I do,’” Y/n said, smiling. “But then again, it also feels like a lifetime with everything we’ve been through.”

“A wonderful lifetime,” Five agreed, leaning in for a kiss.

The party kicked off with everyone gathered in the living room. Maddie, their six-year-old daughter, was bouncing around with excitement, while Milo, their two-year-old son, toddled about, chasing after a balloon.

“Happy anniversary!” Klaus exclaimed, rushing forward to hug Five and Y/n. “I’ve been counting down the days for this!”

“Thanks, Klaus,” Five said, patting him on the back. “The place looks… festive.”

“You mean chaotic,” Diego said, grinning as he handed Five a drink. “But that’s how we do things, right?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Five said, clinking his glass against Diego’s.

“Let’s get this party started!” Luther called out from the grill. “Dinner’s ready!”

Everyone gathered around the dining table, plates piled high with grilled meats, salads, and various side dishes. The room buzzed with chatter and laughter.

“To Five and Y/n!” Luther said, raising his glass. “May your love continue to grow and inspire us all.”

“Here, here!” everyone echoed, toasting to the couple.

Maddie was seated between Five and Y/n, her eyes wide with delight as she dug into her plate. Milo was in a high chair next to Five, gleefully munching on a piece of bread.

“This is perfect,” Y/n whispered to Five, squeezing his hand under the table.

“Absolutely,” Five agreed, his eyes soft with affection.

After dinner, Viktor began playing his violin, filling the room with soft, romantic music. Maddie twirled around the room in her pretty dress, her giggles adding to the joyful ambiance.

“I have a surprise for you,” Y/n said to Five, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Oh? What is it?” Five asked, intrigued.

“You’ll see,” Y/n said, standing up and heading to the small stage area Diego had set up. She took the microphone, and the room fell silent, all eyes on her.

“I wanted to do something special for you tonight,” Y/n said, looking at Five with a tender smile. “This song is for you.”

She began to sing “Love me tender” by Elvis Presley, a song that had become their unofficial anthem over the years. Her voice was clear and melodic, filling the room with emotion. As she sang, Five’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, his heart swelling with love and gratitude.

By the time Y/n finished, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Five stood up, walking over to her and pulling her into a tight embrace.

“That was beautiful,” Five said, his voice thick with emotion. “You always know how to make me cry.”

“Happy tears, I hope,” Y/n teased, wiping away a tear from his cheek.

“The happiest,” Five confirmed, kissing her deeply as the room erupted in applause and cheers.

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter and dancing. Diego and Klaus engaged in a ridiculous dance-off, much to everyone’s amusement. Allison and Luther led a conga line that wound through the entire house, with Viktor and Ben reluctantly joining in. Sloane and Lila teamed up to keep the drinks flowing, ensuring no glass was empty for long.

Maddie, now with a crown on her head from Klaus’s stash of props, dragged Five and Y/n to the dance floor.

“Come on, Daddy! You too, Mommy!” Maddie insisted, twirling around them.

“How can we say no to that?” Y/n said, smiling as she took Five’s hand.

“We can’t,” Five agreed, spinning Y/n around as they danced with their daughter.

As the night drew to a close, Five’s siblings gathered around for one last toast.

“To the best couple we know,” Klaus said, raising his glass. “May your love be as timeless as your dance moves are questionable.”

“Cheers!” everyone shouted, laughing and clinking their glasses.

“Thanks, everyone,” Five said, his arm around Y/n. “You’ve made this anniversary unforgettable.”

“You make every day unforgettable,” Y/n said, leaning into him.

With the party winding down, the guests started to leave. Five and Y/n stood at the door, saying their goodbyes.

“See you all tomorrow,” Five said, waving as the last of his siblings departed.

“We should do this more often,” Klaus called back. “Love you guys!”

“Love you too!” Y/n and Five shouted in unison.

With the kids tucked in bed, Five and Y/n finally had a moment to themselves. They sat on the couch, the room now quiet except for the soft hum of the music playing in the background.

“Happy anniversary, love,” Y/n said, resting her head on Five’s shoulder.

“Happy anniversary,” Five replied, kissing the top of her head. “Here’s to many more.”

They sat in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of a perfect evening.

“I think Maddie’s out like a light,” Five said, glancing at the baby monitor.

“Milo too,” Y/n added, snuggling closer to Five.

“I have another surprise for you in our bedroom,” Five smirked, standing up and extending his hand to Y/n.

“Lead the way,” Y/n smiled, taking his hand. They walked hand in hand to their bedroom, ready to enjoy a night full of passion and love.

[theboxfort]

Object OCs inspired by Thai culture!

Explanation for each of them below!

From left to right, top to bottom, we'll start with Phuang Malai, also known as Malai! These are floral garland often given to people as a show of respect, gratitude, luck, importance, etc etc, but they can also be used as decorations

They can come in many different shapes and sizes, all for different purposes! Some are worn on the neck, some on the wrist, others are not worn at all. Traditionally, they're made with fresh flower, but nowadays, you can find ones made of plastic flowers or any other material

Next, Triangle Pillow, also known as Thai pillows, are very firm and. Y'know. Triangular pillows. They can come alone as just a pillow, or as a foldable pillow + mattress combo!

These can be used in many ways, as a head cushion, as a seat, or as a bed if it's long enough. It is said to help a lot with relieving back pain. I believe it originated from Northern Thailand? I mean the patterns and some of my research seems to say so

Next, the Chula Kite! Not much to say here aside from that fact that it's one of the many kite shapes we have here

Fun fact: Chula is also seen in the Thai alphabet! (All Thai consonants are associated with a specific word)

Pla Tapien, literally means "barb (the fish)" because it's based on one. These are traditionally made via woven palm leaves, but modern ones can be made using paper or some other material as well

Next, we have Fire Pots! Admittedly, these are more of a Chinese thing than a Thai thing, but we were HEAVILY influenced by Chinese culture (and Indian culture). These pots have a hole at the bottom for putting a candle in, which is used to keep the food heated for longer periods of time

And finally, Lotus Pot!

Originally, I wanted to use the traditional dragon jar (shown below), since it's the symbol of Ratchaburi (my dad's hometown), but the design got too busy, so I settled with a more generic pattern

Fun fact: This thing was the very reason I started this whole thing

[tsuiioku]

— 𝖉𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 + 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖆𝖉𝖆 ₊˚⊹

pairing(s): the armed detective agency (bungou stray dogs) & gender-neutral!reader, (minor) osamu dazai (bungou stray dogs) x gender-neutral!reader

content warnings: holiday sweaters, brief mention of nooses, the armed detective agency is one giant family, sweet tooth-rotting fluff, cuddling

would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.this post!

You stumbled your way into Armed Detective Agency, knees threatening to buckle under the weight of boxes and bags carried in shaking arms, unable to ask for help as you let out panted breaths.

"Here! Let me help you with those."

You sighed as the pressure was alleviated, the ache brought out from your wrists and elbows as you nodded towards your blonde savior.

"Thank you, Kenji!"

He returned your gratitude with a beaming smile, lifting the presents with distinctive ease as he settled them underneath an expansive, prickly tree in the corner, illuminated by a descending sun as beams struck objects with an unrelenting glow. The entire room seemed warmed by the rays, buzzing like a beehive as clerks shuffled between desks. 

Atsushi and Kyoka had been tasked with decorating the monstrous tree, but the poor things needed clarification on how to start. Naomi and Tanizaki started mixing steaming mugs of hot chocolate, much to the delight of Ranpo, who munched on marshmallows from his desk while oogling the rich drink. Yosano had attempted to smuggle some booze out of her office, only to face a lecture from Kunikida on the importance of sobriety. Fukuzawa and Haruno remained in the lounge area, silently sipping on their drinks as they watched over the room.

And then there were the matching sweaters everyone was wearing — a tiger, a rabbit, a book, a butterfly, a cat, and a candy cane — to name a few. You snuggled into your own, thankful that many people from your cases had chipped in to buy these for all of you.

The entire party left you feeling so bubbly and bright. You made your way over to the tree to catch a large ornament that Atsushi almost dropped when he tripped over his own two feet.

"Careful, Atsushi." You pressed the ornament back into his hand, conscientious to not let him drop it a second time. 

He flashed a sheepish grin. "Thanks!"

"Here." You took a couple from the box, spreading them along the tree branches with a quick check to ensure everything was evenly distributed. With your combined skills, you covered the tree from head to toe in shining ornaments. You stepped back to admire your handiwork, only to slip over a stray garland on the floor.

"-w-woah-!"

You mentally braced yourself to fall flat on your ass, only to land on a much softer object. It only took two bandaged arms to snake around your waist for you to realize what, or more accurately, who had caught you as those same arms squeezed you tight.

"Falling for me, love?" you shivered as his warm breath bristled against your ear, the familiar brown tresses of Osamu Dazai brushing against your cheek as he unabashedly snuggled into your neck.

I was wondering where he could be.

You pulled away, only to look him over with a confused glare.

"How'd you get a sweater with a noose on it?"

He grinned lazily. "Isn't it amazing!"

You huffed before feeling someone push past you from behind, forcing you to fall back into Dazai's arms. He was basically spooning you from behind, a small purr rolling from his lips as a satisfied smile curled upwards.

"And my (Name) is back again."

"Time to open presents!" Ranpo yelled, already tearing the wrapping paper off of one. You smiled softly, leaning back into Dazai as you watched everyone dig into their presents gleefully.

Such a perfect day.

TAGLIST: @imhandicapableofmath @lovedazai @hauntedsol @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @thesilvernight0wl @s1eepybunny

© MUSAMORA 2023 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[witchboxco]

Litha Altar Ideas & Elements

Litha, also known as midsummer or the summer solstice, is a Pagan sabbat that honors the longest day of the year and the height of the sun's power. It's a time of light, abundance, and connection to nature. There are infinite ways to create a sacred space that captures the essence of the summer solstice, but here are just a few to get you started.

Choose a Sacred Space

Select a location for your Litha altar that feels harmonious and tranquil. It could be indoors or outdoors, depending on your preferences and available space. Consider placing it near a window to invite in the sun's rays or under a tree to connect with the earth's energy.

Colors of the Solstice

Embrace the vibrant hues of summer by incorporating colors that symbolize the sun and its energy reflected in nature. Opt for warm shades like gold, yellow, orange, and green. These colors evoke the energy of vitality, growth, and abundance.

Sun Symbols

Since Litha revolves around the power of the sun, incorporating sun symbols on your altar is a wonderful way to honor this celestial force. Decorate with solar discs, light catchers, sunflowers, prisms, Helios statuettes, ojos de dios, solar inspired artwork, or sun candles. These symbols remind us of the sun's life-giving energy and its powerful presence during the summer solstice.

Florals

Celebrate the beauty of nature's bounty during Litha by adorning your altar with a selection of fresh, seasonal flowers. Sunflowers, daisies, St John’s Wort, and marigolds are excellent choices. Arrange them in vases or make garlands and wreaths to hang around your sacred space. The vibrant colors and sweet scents will infuse your altar with a delightful atmosphere.

Elemental Representations

Litha is a time to honor the elements and their harmonious interplay. Consider incorporating representations of fire, water, earth, and air on your altar. Candles can represent fire, seashells or a small bowl of water for water, crystals or stones for earth, and feathers or incense for air. These elemental symbols help create balance and align your altar with the natural energies of the season.

Symbols of Abundance

As Litha celebrates the abundance of the Earth, include symbols of prosperity and growth on your altar. Wheat, corn, berries, honeycomb, and seasonal fruits like strawberries, peaches,or cherries can be placed in baskets or on decorative gold bowls. These symbols express gratitude for the bounty of the sun and the abundance it provides.

Ritual Tools and Divination

If you work with ritual tools or divination methods, consider placing them on your Litha altar. This might include a wand, a cauldron, a chalice, runes, or a tarot deck. These tools act as conduits for your intentions and can be charged with the heightened energy of the summer solstice.

Solstice blessings. 🌞

[aspens-apothecary]

Mabon Celebration Ideas!

As some of you know, this Saturday is Mabon, the celebration of the Autumn Equinox. Some also refer to it as the "Pagan Thanksgiving", as you celebrate the bountiful harvest and are thankful for the earth and its many gifts.

Mabon marks the time of equilibrium, where the days and nights are of equal length. During this time, it is good to set intentions that involve decrease, such as ending unhealthy habits, self-destructive behaviors, or bad relationships.

Decorating for Autumn

This a great time to decorate for the coming autumn and spooky seasons leading up to Samhain! I like to open the windows and then cleanse my space(usually a simmer pot and smoke cleanse) and after, i actually physically clean the house.I then close the windows and stir my simmer pot, while setting new intentions for the household until the spring equinox. I then collect the things I want to decorate with(the usual fall decor; pumpkins, pine cones, leaf garlands, gourds and an autumn wreath on the door) and then decorate to my hearts content!

Release and Move Forward

Another thing I usually spend time on is meditation, centering myself, letting go of past baggage from the year and setting new personal goals and intentions until spring.

Find a nice spot outside, where you feel connected to the world around you. Take a journal with you, and meditate. Write down what you want the next few months to bring into your life. Set those intentions in any way you choose.

Have a nice Hearty Meal

Who doesn't love a good meal with great people? You can make a roast, hold a potluck Mabon dinner ect, I usually host a bonfire night and everyone brings their own dishes to feel the group. During covid, I made a pot roast for my fiance and I! You could also do a picnic!

Fall Activities

Apple Picking, Corn Mazes, going to a Pumpkin Patch, all fall activities that are fun for the whole family, as a cute date, or great solo fun!

Honor Persephone and Demeter

If you are one to honor deities/spirits during the holidays, Persephone and Demeter are two that will definitely fall into Mabon.

According to the myth, Autumn is the time where Persephone must leave her beloved mother and travel to Hades, to fulfill her role as the Queen of the Underworld. Each year she lets go of the concerns of the upper world, and willingly descends to guide the souls of the dead over the threshold of Life and Death.

Creating an altar, and leaving offerings for them in honor of their sacrifice is an amazing way to celebrate.

Other

Other things you can do include cleansing ritual baths, Divination for the new few months, hiking, offerings for the local nature spirits, make a gratitude list for the last few months and thank the earth for her gifts

Mabon Symbols:

Cornucopia (horn of plenty), pinecones, seeds

Colors: Orange, red, yellow, brown, copper, dark yellow, dark green

Foods: Corn, beans, squash, apples, pumpkins, cider, root vegetables, pomegranate, wine

Herbs: Yarrow, rosemary, sage, mugwort, rosehips,

Stones: Amber, citrine, cat’s eye, aventurine, sapphire, jasper

Flowers: Sunflowers, thistle, marigolds

Deities: Mabon, Green Man, Demeter, Persephone, Morgan, Pomona, Inanna

Animals: Owl, stag, blackbird, salmon

I hope this gives you a few ideas! Add your own ideas to this list! These are just the ways I like to celebrate!

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Day.11 ~ Gifts for the baby ~

Franco Barbi x fem!reader warning : fluff, kissing Summary: Even in the hell that were the Trials, people tried not to be too soulless, of course there were explosive Easter eggs for Easter, on Thanksgiving the turkey that killed you and also Christmas where the one or other gift was more than just well wrapped. Even Franco and his beloved mother have a small Christmas celebration, even here in hell. info: The sweet little baby Franco also needs a door, of course, so thank you for opening it and have fun ;) masterlist ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you were trapped in hell, there was only one way out: you had to kill your way out. It was easier than just running away from the creepy creatures like the policeman or the dentist, not to mention the baby.

They were creatures that were just as much a failure of a larger project as they were people, who hardly knew that you just had to survive down here and that was all.

When the sirens went off and the gas was sprayed, you were either already dead or about to become a dead man, that was the rule... almost for everyone.

There was also something like a togetherness, a being together, and a dependency that went on in the trials of Franco Barbi and his mother, a woman who was more than able to handle the difficult case of the former gangster.

,,Oh baby! I'm back!” her voice echoed through the system when her shoes hit the metal floor, the little star pin on her dress flashed and the smile on her red lips was broad and happy.

She also had every reason to look at the boxes in her hand, a kindness of her let's call it superior who was interesting how Franco would react, a reaction she soon experienced.

The road was paved with corpses, some only recently dead, others dead for weeks, and some already nothing but skeletons. ,,Baby!” she called again and heard hoofbeats in the room.

Giggling to herself, she opened the door and saw a festively decorated room: paper garlands that already had dark red spots, heads serving as candle holders, and the manger that was the bed surrounded by festive pillowcases that seemed to be self-embroidered. pillow cases that seemed to be embroidered by herself, ,,Welcome back, Mommy!” he said happily and came over to her.

He waited well-behaved until she had put down the presents before she gave him a rewarding kiss. She stroked his head as he sat down on one of the bar stools and dangled his legs.

,,You did a wonderful job,” she praised him, and he chuckled before his blue eyes fell on the gifts, ,,Did I kill enough f I killed enough fuckers?” the man asked instead of the little boy and she held out one of the presents to him, saw that he also reached into his suit pocket, ,,More than that, my sweet," she replied, and handed him the present wrapped in red ribbon.

She, on the other hand, received a dirty cloth, the contents of which made her gasp: a necklace made of small pearls that he had probably cut out of glass, with a chain made of carefully selected teeth.

Franco, on the other hand, cheered when he received a new pacifier, with a matching cloth, and a handful of real bullets. The best gift of all, however, was the look on her face as she turned to the bed.

The kiss he gave her, full of gratitude, hands that sought more on her body, for her being, for her sweet inner self, and she gladly welcomed her darling when her fingers moved over the chain and she knew once more that this winter time would be a very special one and she was there to fulfill her every wish.

Anyone who stood in her way was simply killed by his love, Christmas in hell was that simple and no different.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@lovesick-on-the-loose , @millie-milkshake , @xgrisleyx , @trash-flowerss

[manifestingdiana]

christmas holidays bucket list ⋆⁺₊❅。

at home

bake holiday treats: try cookies, gingerbread houses, or holiday pies. enjoy decorating them with festive themes.

holiday movie marathon: watch classics like home alone, elf, or the polar express while snuggled under a blanket.

hot chocolate bar: set up toppings like whipped cream, marshmallows, crushed candy canes, and sprinkles.

diy christmas crafts: make ornaments, garlands, or hand-painted holiday cards.

read by the fireplace: choose cozy winter books like ‘little women’ or ‘achristmas carol’.

holiday-themed puzzles or games: assemble a wintery puzzle or play festive board games.

outdoors

ice skating: head to a rink or a frozen lake if safe and weather permits.

snow activities: build a snowman, go sledding, or have a snowball fight.

nature walks: bundle up and explore frosty trails or parks.

stargazing: winter skies are clear—grab blankets and hot drinks to watch stars.

community fun

visit christmas markets: enjoy unique shopping, delicious treats, and festive decorations.

holiday light displays: drive or walk through neighborhoods with twinkling decorations.

volunteer: spread warmth by helping at a soup kitchen or donating gifts to a toy drive.

with loved ones

themed dinner party: host a cozy pajama party or an ugly sweater dinner.

write letters to santa or gratitude notes: do it for fun or to share with loved ones.

family karaoke: sing along to christmas hits like ‘all i want for christmas is you’.

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙₊⋆ ͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙₊⋆ ͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙₊⋆ ͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

which of these sparks joy for you? 🎄❄️

[peppymintdreams]

Happy Holidays my children here’s a Christmas headcanon

the Christmas season are joyful have wonderful memories and you have quite literally decked the halls and you spend Christmas together full of presents dinner and lots of kisses

Luca

The scent of cinnamon pine and chocolate filled the air as soft Christmas tunes played in the background. Luca stood in the middle of the living room, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open as he took in the transformation of their apartment. The space was a full-blown winter wonderland—lights twinkling from every corner, garlands draped across the walls, and an impressively large tree in the corner adorned with sparkling ornaments.

"Wow," Luca breathed, stepping further into the room. His brown eyes caught the warm glow of the fireplace you had painstakingly set up with LED logs and flickering lights. "You... really went all out this year."

You poked your head out from the kitchen, a wide grin on your face. "Of course I did! It’s our first Christmas as fiancés," you said, carrying a tray of steaming hot chocolate mugs, each topped with whipped cream and marshmallows. "I wanted it to be perfect."

Luca smiled softly, the kind of smile that made your chest warm. "It’s more than perfect. It’s magical."

You handed him a mug, and he curled his fingers around it, the warmth seeping into his hands. You noticed the way his lips curled upward as he stared at the Christmas tree. “You even hung the ornament we bought on our first date,” he said quietly, pointing to a tiny glass heart near the top of the tree.

“Of course I did,” you replied, nudging him with your elbow. “That’s my favorite one.”

Luca’s cheeks turned pink, whether from the hot chocolate or your words, you couldn’t tell. He took a sip and sighed contentedly. “You’re really good at this whole Christmas thing.”

“I hope so,” you teased, pulling him toward the couch. “Because we’ve got a whole night planned—presents, dinner, and maybe,” you paused, leaning in close, “a few surprises.”

His eyes widened. “Surprises?”

“Patience,” you said with a grin, setting your mug on the coffee table.

Dinner was a warm and intimate affair. You’d prepared all of Luca’s favorites—a savory roast, buttery mashed potatoes, and a decadent chocolate yule log for dessert. He couldn’t stop thanking you, his shy but heartfelt compliments making your chest ache with affection.

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” he said for the fifth time, his hand brushing yours as he reached for another piece of bread.

“Trouble? Luca, you deserve all of this and more,” you said firmly, giving him a look that left no room for argument.

He smiled sheepishly, his eyes dropping to his plate. “You always know how to make me feel special.”

“Because you are special,” you said, reaching out to touch his hand.

After dinner, the two of you settled back in the living room, the tree glowing softly in the corner. Luca sat cross-legged on the rug, carefully unwrapping one of the gifts you’d handed him.

“This is... for me?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

“All of them are for you,” you said with a laugh, gesturing to the small pile of presents.

“Seriously?” His eyes flicked to you, and you could see the faint mist of tears forming.

“Luca,” you said softly, moving to sit beside him. “I wanted to spoil you this year. You’ve been working so hard, and I just... I love you.”

He swallowed hard, his fingers stilling on the wrapping paper. “I love you too,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The first gift was a set of cozy sweaters in his favorite colors. The second was a personalized leather journal, engraved with his initials. The third was a framed photo of the two of you, taken during a trip to the countryside earlier in the year.

Luca looked at the gifts, then at you, his face a mixture of awe and gratitude. “You’re unbelievable,” he said, pulling you into a hug.

“You’re worth it,” you murmured against his shoulder.

As the night wore on, the two of you found yourselves tangled together on the couch, the pile of wrapping paper forgotten on the floor. Luca’s head rested against your chest, his arms wrapped around your waist.

“This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” he said softly, his voice muffled against your sweater.

“Even better than the one where you got a Nintendo 64?” you teased, earning a soft laugh from him.

“Way better,” he said, tilting his head up to look at you. His brown eyes sparkled, reflecting the twinkling lights of the tree. “Because this one’s with you.”

You leaned down, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. It was soft and slow, full of the love and warmth that had grown between you over the years.

When you pulled back, Luca’s cheeks were flushed, and a shy smile played on his lips. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

“Merry Christmas, Luca,” you replied, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him even closer.

The night ended the way it began—full of warmth, love, and countless little kisses exchanged beneath the glow of the Christmas tree. It was everything you could have hoped for, and more.

Isaac

Snow fell softly outside, blanketing the world in white as Isaac opened the front door, his boots crunching against the icy ground. He stepped inside, brushing off the cold, only to stop dead in his tracks.

The house was glowing. Literally glowing.

Golden fairy lights twinkled around every window frame, garlands of evergreen with bright red bows adorned the staircase banister, and a towering Christmas tree, adorned with ornaments and glittering tinsel, dominated the living room. The faint smell of cinnamon and pine filled the air, mingling with the sound of soft holiday music playing in the background.

Isaac’s eyes widened as he took it all in. His home, once so stark and minimal, had been utterly transformed.

“Welcome back!” Pickle’s voice called out from the kitchen. Moments later, they appeared, wearing a festive red sweater adorned with tiny snowflakes and a mischievous grin. “What do you think?”

Isaac blinked, momentarily speechless. “I think... I stepped into a Christmas fever dream,” he said dryly, but the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed his true feelings.

Pickle laughed, stepping closer. “It’s your second Christmas with me,” they said softly, their hands reaching for his. “I wanted to make it special. You deserve to feel... all the joy and warmth of the season.”

Isaac’s heart clenched. Last Christmas had been his first in years spent with someone he truly cared about—Pickle. It had been simple, quiet, and perfect in its own way. But this? This was something else entirely.

“You did all this for me?” he asked, his voice lower, touched with disbelief.

“Of course I did,” Pickle replied, squeezing his hands. “You’ve given me so much love. Let me give something back to you.”

Isaac exhaled, his gaze softening. “You never stop surprising me.”

They smiled, their eyes twinkling brighter than the fairy lights. “Come on,” they said, tugging his hand. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

The dining table was set with care: a roast with all the trimmings sat at the center, surrounded by bowls of buttery mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and freshly baked bread. Candles flickered, casting a warm glow over the feast.

Isaac pulled out a chair for Pickle before sitting down himself, taking a moment to admire the spread. “You’ve outdone yourself,” he said.

“It’s Christmas,” they replied, pouring them both glasses of mulled wine. “You deserve nothing less.”

Dinner was filled with laughter and quiet moments of contentment. Isaac, usually reserved, found himself smiling more than he realized, his chest warm with gratitude he couldn’t quite put into words.

After dinner, they moved to the living room, the tree casting soft, colorful shadows on the walls. A stack of presents sat beneath it, each wrapped neatly in shimmering paper.

“Open yours first,” Pickle insisted, handing him a small, neatly wrapped box.

Isaac raised an eyebrow but complied, carefully peeling back the paper to reveal a leather-bound journal. On the front, his initials were embossed in gold.

“For your thoughts,” Pickle said, their voice soft. “I know how much you like to write things down.”

Isaac ran his fingers over the cover, his throat tightening. “It’s perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

Pickle grinned. “There’s more,” they said, pushing another gift toward him.

Each present—be it a set of fine pens, a sleek watch, or a hand-knitted scarf—felt thoughtful, chosen with care. By the time he’d unwrapped the last one, Isaac was staring at Pickle with a mix of awe and affection.

“My turn!” they said, diving into their own stack of gifts with unrestrained excitement. Isaac watched them tear through the wrapping paper, their joy infectious.

The night wore on, and as the clock struck midnight, Pickle pulled Isaac to his feet. “One more thing,” they said, leading him back to the tree. From behind it, they produced a bouquet of orchids, their petals delicate and vibrant.

Isaac’s breath hitched. Orchids. The flower he’d once told them reminded him of resilience, beauty, and home.

“For you, my handsome husband,” Pickle whispered, holding it out to him. “To remind you how much you’re loved.”

Isaac took the bouquet, his hands trembling slightly. “You remembered,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I remember everything about you,” they replied, stepping closer. “And I always will.”

Isaac set the flowers aside and cupped their face in his hands, his gaze intense. “You’ve made this the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You do,” they countered, their smile soft. “You deserve this and so much more.”

He kissed them then, slow and deep, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude he felt into it.

The rest of the evening was spent curled up on the couch, wrapped in blankets as they watched old Christmas movies. The world outside was cold and dark, but inside, Isaac felt nothing but warmth and light.

For the first time in a long time, he felt truly at home. And as he glanced at Pickle, their head resting on his shoulder, he made a silent vow: to make every Christmas as magical for them as they had made this one for him.

Andrew

The house was a wonderland.

Andrew stood in the middle of the living room, staring at the sheer volume of Christmas cheer that had seemingly exploded overnight. Garland was draped over every conceivable surface, twinkling lights framed the windows, and the scent of pine and cinnamon wafted through the air. A massive tree, decked with ornaments of all shapes and sizes, stood proudly in the corner, crowned with a glittering star.

“Darling,” Andrew called, his voice teetering between awe and disbelief. “When you said you were decorating, I didn’t realize you meant… all of this.”

Darling appeared from the kitchen, a mug of hot cocoa in each hand and a mischievous grin on their face. “You’re welcome,” they said, handing him one of the mugs.

He took it, his fingers brushing theirs as he gave them a fond but exasperated look. “This is an understatement. This is a holiday masterpiece.”

“Thank you,” they said, plopping down onto the couch and patting the seat next to them. “I take Christmas very seriously. Now come sit. I have a whole day of festivities planned.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at his lips. “Do I even have a choice?”

“Nope.”

He joined them on the couch, sipping his cocoa as Darling outlined their agenda: gift exchanges, a Christmas movie marathon, a dinner that was already halfway prepared, and—of course—“lots of kisses.”

“I like how you saved the best for last,” Andrew teased, setting his mug down.

“Well, you’re the best part of Christmas,” Darling said with a wink, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

The day unfolded in a blur of joy. They exchanged presents mid-morning, sitting cross-legged by the tree like kids. Darling’s face lit up with every gift Andrew handed them, their excitement contagious. For his part, Andrew unwrapped each of his gifts carefully, chuckling when he got to the new scarf Darling had chosen.

“It’s perfect,” he said, wrapping it around his neck and tugging them in for a kiss. “Just like you.”

Afterward, they spent hours snuggled on the couch, working their way through a stack of holiday movies. Darling insisted on watching The Muppet Christmas Carol, despite Andrew’s protests, and by the end of it, he was humming along to the songs, much to their delight.

Dinner was a feast, with Darling taking the lead and Andrew playing sous chef. “You’re better at chopping,” they said as they handed him a cutting board full of vegetables.

“I’m better at following your orders,” he replied with a smirk, earning a playful nudge.

By the time dessert was served—an indulgent chocolate cake Andrew couldn’t stop complimenting—they were both leaning back in their chairs, utterly content.

Later, as the lights from the tree cast a warm glow over the living room, Andrew pulled Darling close, their legs tangled together on the couch. He tilted their chin up, brushing his thumb across their cheek.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured, his voice low and full of emotion.

“Merry Christmas,” they whispered back, their lips meeting his in a slow, tender kiss.

The world outside was cold and quiet, but in their little home, wrapped in each other’s arms, everything felt perfect. For Andrew, this wasn’t just Christmas—it was home.

Elias

The moment Elias walked into the safe house, he was overwhelmed by the sheer festivity of it all. Every corner of the living room glimmered with twinkling lights. A garland, peppered with little red bows, ran along the banister. Stockings hung from the fireplace, each embroidered with painstakingly neat stitching—one with his name, one with Barista’s.

“Holy...” Elias muttered, his boots crunching against the fake snow sprinkled along the doorway mat. He could barely see the furniture for the abundance of Christmas decorations.

Barista popped their head out from behind the couch, wearing a ridiculous Santa hat complete with jingle bells. “Ta-da!” they said, holding their arms out as if unveiling their masterpiece.

“Ta-da, indeed,” Elias said, stepping further in, his expression caught somewhere between awe and amusement. “When you said you were decorating, I didn’t think you were going to, you know, deck every hall.”

Barista beamed, clearly unbothered by his light teasing. “It’s Christmas, Elias! You can never have too many lights. Or garlands. Or—” They gestured toward the tree, which sparkled with ornaments and tinsel. “That!”

Elias grinned. “I’ll give you this—you know how to commit.” He plopped onto the couch, narrowly missing a pile of neatly wrapped presents. “So, what’s the plan for tonight? Do I need to prepare for a visit from Santa himself?”

Barista rolled their eyes, but the playful smile stayed. “No, but you do need to help me with dinner. We’re doing the whole thing—roast, mashed potatoes, pie...”

“Wow,” Elias said, standing and following them into the kitchen. “You’re pulling out all the stops, huh?”

“It’s our first Christmas together,” Barista said, their voice softening as they grabbed a tray of cookies to pop in the oven. “I wanted it to be special.”

Elias paused, watching them with a fond smile. The warm light of the kitchen reflected off their features, and his heart gave a little tug. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he said quietly, slipping behind them to wrap his arms around their waist.

Barista leaned back against him, a contented sigh escaping their lips. “I know. But hearing you say it makes it better.”

They spent the evening cooking together—well, Barista cooked while Elias snuck bites of food and offered dramatic commentary about their chef skills.

“Are you sure that’s enough butter? I think the turkey deserves better,” he teased.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Barista retorted, flicking a bit of flour at him.

When dinner was finally served, the two of them sat down at the dining table, the glow of candles casting a cozy light over their little feast.

“Cheers,” Elias said, raising his glass of sparkling cider.

“Cheers,” Barista replied, clinking their glass against his.

After dinner came presents. Elias, despite claiming he was terrible at gift-giving, had somehow found the perfect thing: a handmade necklace with a tiny star pendant, a subtle nod to his love of astronomy.

“You’re such a sap,” Barista said, but their voice cracked just slightly as they stared at the gift.

Elias smirked. “Says the person who decked the halls like this was a Hallmark movie.”

Finally, as the night wound down, the two of them curled up on the couch, a blanket pulled over their laps. The Christmas tree’s lights blinked softly in the background, and the faint sound of carols played on the radio.

Elias turned to look at Barista, who was practically glowing in the soft light. “This is perfect,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to their temple.

Barista turned to him, their eyes shining. “You make it perfect.”

And then, surrounded by the warmth of the season and the love they had built together, they kissed—long, soft, and full of the quiet promise that every Christmas after this one would only get better.

Xanthus

Snow blanketed the earth outside, the frost clinging to the windows of the home you and Xanthus shared. The interior, however, could not have been more of a contrast—bright, warm, and sparkling with holiday cheer.

Every surface had been transformed into a testament to your boundless enthusiasm for Christmas. Garlands of evergreen adorned the mantle, woven with twinkling fairy lights. Stockings hung in neat rows, each embroidered with your names (you’d insisted Xanthus have one, despite his protests). Ornaments shimmered on the towering Christmas tree, which glowed in soft, multicolored lights. The centerpiece? A star you had painstakingly picked out, much to Xanthus' quiet amusement.

He stood in the middle of it all, arms crossed as he observed your whirlwind of decorating. “You’ve turned this place into something straight out of a Christmas card,” he said, his voice laced with reluctant fondness.

You popped out from behind the tree, your cheeks flushed from exertion and excitement. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s... excessive,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. But the slight upward twitch of his lips betrayed him.

“You’re just mad because I made you hang those lights outside,” you teased, walking over to him. “You’ve lived through centuries of winters; surely you can survive one afternoon of decorating.”

Xanthus let out a low chuckle, the sound warming you more than the crackling fire. “True, but none of those winters involved being pelted with snowballs by an overenthusiastic partner.”

“That’s on you for looking so smug while holding the ladder.” You grinned, pulling him toward the couch. “Now, come on. It’s Christmas Eve. Time to relax and enjoy the fruits of our labor.”

Dinner was a feast you had insisted on preparing yourself, despite Xanthus offering to assist. He wasn’t particularly festive when it came to the holidays, but he had to admit the sight of you bustling around the kitchen, humming carols under your breath, was endearing.

When you finally sat down together, candles flickering on the table and plates piled high, Xanthus couldn’t help but marvel at the warmth you brought to the space. The scent of spiced cider mingled with the savory aroma of roasted dishes, and for the first time in a long while, he felt... content.

“Are you going to eat?” you asked, noticing his faraway expression.

He smirked, his silver eyes catching the firelight. “Watching you is far more entertaining.”

You rolled your eyes, though your smile betrayed you. “Flattery will only get you so far, you know.”

“Perhaps. But tonight, it seems enough.”

After dinner, the two of you settled on the couch, the fireplace casting soft shadows across the room. You’d brought out a pile of gifts, insisting that opening one early was a Christmas Eve tradition.

“This one first,” you said, holding out a neatly wrapped package.

Xanthus arched an eyebrow but took the gift, carefully undoing the paper. Inside was a black scarf, intricately woven with silver thread.

“I made it myself,” you said shyly.

He ran his fingers over the fabric, a rare softness in his gaze. “It’s perfect,” he said, leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.”

You grinned, grabbing another gift. “Okay, my turn!”

The evening passed in a blur of laughter and gifts, with Xanthus surprising you with a sleek silver bracelet that matched his own understated style. You couldn’t help but notice how he kept watching you, his expression soft and unguarded.

By the time you’d opened the last of the presents, you were both curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs. Xanthus had one arm around you, his fingers idly playing with your hair.

“Merry Christmas,” you murmured, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his voice low and sincere. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

And as the snow continued to fall outside, the two of you stayed there, wrapped in warmth and the quiet joy of each other’s company.

🍬

P.S. Hey… hey, you! 🫵🏾 Do you want more Sakuverse gay shit? Hit that follow button and send in a request! You’ll get notifications whenever I post new fics or incorrect quotes or head canons and maybe even a chance to have your OC featured in a story.

Also yall see that Saku put the episodes on Spotify?

[remindingpersephone]

Christmas Is Not The Same

I'm putting this under the jump because it's about grief and loss.

This is the first Christmas without my Mom. I knew it would be hard. It's better than it would have been if we were still in our old house back down on the coast. I honestly don't think I could have decorated the house she loved for 28 years without her.

Here in the new house it is easier, but it isn't the same. Dad helped me with the the lights and garland I couldn't reach. I'm the family midget at 5'4" and he's 6 foot, having shrunk in his later years from his prime of 6'2". But when it came time to decorate the tree, to unwrap the ornaments they had collected over their 52 year marriage, he couldn't do it. I asked if he wanted to help - knowing that he'd been melancholy since Thanksgiving - and he just looked at me sadly and shook his head. I understood and I finished the tree alone, because I couldn't bear not to decorate the tree. Mom loved those ornaments. She especially cherished the popsicle stick and construction paper ones my brother and I made for her in grade school. They are so fragile by now I don't know how they haven't disintegrated.

I tried watching some of the Hallmark movies she loved. The ones we used to watch together every year. I barely made it to the first commercial. It just felt empty. Like I was trying to create something that was simply impossible. I know life goes on, as it will and as it should. But Christmas is about family and memories and there's a big part of mine missing.

I have purchased gifts and baked cookies and gone to parties. I have done so with genuine hope that those I am with know how much I love them. That they know I want only good things for them, now and always.

My holiday wishes for others, my greetings to friends and colleagues, are 100% sincere. For others I want only the very best holidays and as much joy as they can get. The holiday cards I have received have been wonderful and put a real smile on my face when I go to the mailbox. I am grateful for that.

I'm putting on a brave face for my Dad and my brother. My sister-in-law has worked so hard to create family outings and gatherings and I've shown up for every one with a true smile and authentic merriment. There is no way I would let my grief bring down anyone else's holiday. There have been true moments of joy and astonishing awareness of gratitude. And then there are moments when I am shattered by grief and loss. The swing between the two seems to be amplified at this time of year. I was not prepared for that. Even though it was inevitable and unstoppable, I was not ready for Christmas without my Mom.

[deafeningladyruins]

Decorating the Christmas Tree

The festive spirit had seeped into every corner of their hidden sanctuary. The carnival, often a place of eerie silence, now buzzed with a unique kind of warmth and joy. Art the Clown and his beloved had decided to bring a touch of Christmas magic into their lives by decorating a Christmas tree together. One chilly evening, they dragged a beautiful, slightly crooked tree into their cozy living space. It was perfect in its imperfections, just like their relationship. Art, ever the silent clown, wore his signature smile and a playful glint in his eye. She had found a box of decorations, each ornament a piece of a long-forgotten story waiting to be retold.

"Ready to make this tree shine, Art?" she asked, her voice filled with excitement.

Art nodded eagerly, his enthusiasm contagious. They started by stringing popcorn garlands, their fingers brushing occasionally, sending little sparks of happiness through her. As they worked, Art's playful nature came to the fore. He couldn't resist juggling a few ornaments, making her laugh with his antics. Next, it was time for the lights. She handed Art the string of colorful Christmas lights, and he began to wrap them around the tree. However, his playful side got the better of him, and soon enough, he found himself tangled in the lights. He made exaggerated, comical attempts to free himself, his smile never faltering.

"Art, you're hopeless!" she giggled, coming to his aid.

Art's eyes twinkled with amusement as he stood there, a clown in a cocoon of Christmas lights. She couldn't help but laugh at the sight. Her heart swelled with affection as she carefully untangled him, her touch gentle and loving.

"Hold still," she instructed, her fingers deftly working to free him. "You're like a mischievous child."

Art's expression softened, and in that moment, she saw the depth of his feelings for her. As the last of the lights were unwrapped, she impulsively leaned in and kissed him. It was a sweet, tender kiss, filled with gratitude for the joy he brought into her life.

"Thank you for always making me smile," she whispered against his lips.

Art's response was a silent, heartfelt embrace. They stood there, entwined in each other's arms, the lights casting a magical glow around them. With the lights finally in place, they stepped back to admire their handiwork. The tree sparkled with color, each light reflecting a little piece of their shared happiness.

"Now for the ornaments," she said, picking up a delicate glass bauble.

Together, they carefully hung each ornament, sharing stories and creating new memories with every piece they placed. Art's meticulous nature balanced her impulsiveness perfectly, and they worked in harmony. The tree gradually transformed into a beautiful tapestry of their love, each decoration a testament to their journey together. Finally, it was time for the star. Art lifted her onto his shoulders, and she placed the star atop the tree, its golden light shining down on them. She climbed down and turned to Art, her eyes shining with joy.

"It's perfect," she said, taking his hand.

Art's smile widened, and he pulled her into another embrace. They stood before their masterpiece, the warmth of the moment wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. The tree, with its twinkling lights and lovingly placed ornaments, was more than just a decoration it was a symbol of their love and the life they had built together. As the evening wore on, they cuddled up on the couch, a cozy blanket draped over them. The tree's lights cast a soft glow, illuminating their faces and filling the room with a sense of peace and contentment. Art rested his head on her shoulder, and she stroked his hair gently, her heart full of love.

They sat there, basking in the quiet joy of the holiday season, knowing that no matter what the world threw at them, they would always have each other. In their hidden sanctuary, amidst the remnants of a forgotten carnival, they had found a place where their hearts could be free a place where even the darkest souls could find light and love.

---

Good evening, sorry I’m late I was trying to catch my breakfast 🍷, I hope all of you have a jolly Christmas.