#holiday gifts are the best gifts 🖤

[gallawitchxx]

hey. i'm a gifmaker and I'd like to give you a gift this holiday season. so I would like to know your favorite shameless episode, favorite season, favorite quote, favorite character, and favorite color, please 💕 I will make an edit based on one of these options. but it's a surprise!!! <333

hi anon gifmaker! this is so sweet! aksfhalskfj thank you - i can't wait to receive 🖤🖤🖤

fav episode is 4x11 - emily

fav season is also s4

fav quote is "liking what i like don't make me a bitch" - mickey, 2x02

fav character is mickey (& ian)

fav color is turquoise

waaaahhhhhh this is exciting!

THANK YOU ANON! I LOVE YOU ANON! xx

[cutexasxabutton]

|🎄| ❝Uh, uh, I think this is a tag dump?❞ |❄️|

[emeritusemeritus]

hi hun, i have a story idea for you, reader and fred weasley if that's alright. reader is pregnant and is due to have her baby on new year's eve but she goes into early labour alone after an argument with fred and gives birth on christmas eve just as fred arrives to make up with her⁷

Hi Anon! Wow when I tell you this has consumed me for days, it’s taken so long to write but I just couldn’t stop! Side note, the name of Fred and Reader’s child is a name I’ve loved since I was a kid and finally got to use it in a fic where it fit perfectly. Hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: pregnancy and childbirth. Graphic descriptions of pain and labour but not of actual birth. Fast labour, precipitous labour. Reader has the pregnancy emotions. arguments and shouting, minor swearing. Reader hits Fred in the arm. Molly Weasley being the OG midwife. I may have some unresolved birth trauma of my own apparently. Happy ending I promise. Not beta read or spell checked.

Word count: 5.5k

Hark now hear the angels sing [Fred Weasley]

"And... that is the last one, we are officially ready for Christmas!"

You beam as you turn towards Fred, having tied the last bow on the last gift you had to wrap. You look at the pile of gifts and smile, partially because it meant that you no longer had to wrap a single other thing but mostly because it was a stack of gifts for your loved ones. You'd be going to the Burrow tomorrow for Christmas Eve to spend a big family Christmas back at the Weasley home and had made sure that not a single person would be missed in the gift exchange.

It was December 23rd and you couldn't be more excited for the holidays. It had snowed overnight making everything seem so much more magical and it would be the last Christmas as a couple before the little one arrived.

With one final proud look towards your pile, you gather the scissors and tape into the little bag to store them and tried to stand up from your place on the floor, realising quickly that it probably wasn't the best idea to wrap the gifts on the floor at 39 weeks pregnant. You wince at the sharp pain that runs down the length of your back at any form of movement and momentarily swallow your pride as you call out your husband.

"Little help?" You asked Fred who was sat on the sofa in your little home, tinkering with a string of lights that just didn't seem to want to work. He looks up and starts chuckling at your pathetic attempts at getting up and stretches his hand out for you to take. He lifts you with ease, something you're very impressed by factoring in your current size and giggle when he places a delicate kiss onto your nose. His hand wraps around your waist, his palm pressed against the curve of your belly with his thumb stroking the stretched skin through your T-shirt.

"Did we wrap anything for Fred jr?" He asks, smirking at you with those mischief filled eyes that you love so much.

"No. Mainly because there is, and will be, no such person."

"Oh come on sweetheart, don't you want a tiny little me running around?" His eyebrows jump up and down for effect, fingers still lovingly stroking your bump.

"I'm hoping for a George," you deadpan, breaking into a laugh when he suddenly pulls you gently towards him by tickling your side. "Anyway, she's a girl."

"Oh yeah? Mother's intuition?" Fred teases, his eyes gazing over your bump as if he's trying to see something that's not there, like an obvious clue of what gender your baby will be.

"Something like that," you smile, reaching up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his smiling lips.

Suddenly, you pull away from Fred with a brief push to his chest, showing your panicked face and the tears that are starting to well in your eyes, all glimmer of happiness gone.

"Princ-."

"I didn't get her anything!" You suddenly cry out, cutting Fred off as he notices the rather sudden change in your demeanour, your voice trembling as the feeling of complete grief consumes you. "What if she comes early and we didn't get her anything? She'll think that we don't love her! Or she'll think that Santa forgot her!"

Tears are streaming down your face now, your breaths coming quicker and quicker as guilt and shame fill your mind. What kind of mother doesn't buy her own baby a Christmas gift?

"Between the cot, the pram and the clothes we've bought for them, plus not to mention the entire house we bought after finding out they were on the way, I'd say they've had enough."

The glare that you shoot at Fred is enough to silence him instantly, the venomous look in your eyes rivalling his own mothers as he quickly realised this is not a time to make jokes.

"This little one isn't due until after Christmas," he says with a much gentler tone now, placing his hand back onto your bump. "They don't need a Christmas present, they'll already have everything they need when they pop out." He regrets his choice of words the second your eyes shoot up to his, knowing that 'pop' made it sound like an easy thing to do, which he'd been warned from almost every female member of his family that it was far from easy.

"When our baby's born," he says, trying again. "They'll have me and their beautiful mummy. And a whole family that loves them, what else could they need?"

Surprisingly, his words do offer comfort and a wave of relief washes over you as you feel calmed by the idea that the baby really did have everything they would need.

"Sorry," you say, feeling a fresh wave of shame taking over you at your slight overreaction, but Fred steps in again to give you a tight squeeze.

"Already the best mum," he whispers, rocking you gently as you stand holding each other, the Christmas lights illuminating the room in a magical display. You feel a little wiggle in your tummy and smile to yourself, your hand slipping down to cradle the spot where you could feel your little one stretching and rolling.

Everything was set for your arrival at the Burrow in the morning, the suitcase was packed with a mixture of your clothes and Fred's, everything down to your spare toothbrush. The gifts were wrapped and the cookies you'd baked earlier that mornings had been placed into a cute metal tin with a bow, placed on the table beside the front door so that you wouldn't forget them.

"Want me to load the car now?" Fred asks, poking his head around the bedroom door.

"I can help," you offer, only to be shut down a moment later by your husband.

"You will do not such thing," he says firmly, though his eyes are soft. "You are going to park your gorgeous little bum down onto the nearest, softest surface and rest."

"But."

"Doctor's orders princess," he winks, making you smile and relent, though you were hardly going to turn down the offer of sitting down for a while before bed, knowing you'd have an early start in the morning. Your back was twinging with discomfort, a crampy feeling radiating between your pelvis and your hips that made you curse yourself for the stupid idea of wrapping presents on a hard floor.

You walked downstairs to grab a warm drink and sit on the sofa with the hope of a warm fire and a Christmas film, stopping to peek out of the Christmas light filled window to watch Fred trying to fit all the presents in the boot of the car. Since you were so far into your pregnancy, almost every magical transportation option was now deemed unsafe, leaving you with only a handful of options for reaching the Burrow. Percy had very graciously secured a ministry car for you to borrow over the holidays, a fact that he was insistent upon repeating whenever it was even vaguely mentioned in conversation, including the precarious nature of securing the car during the ministry's busiest season. Regardless of your brother in laws self importance, you were thankful for his gesture and though the drive would be long, you were actually looking forward to it. You'd prepped snacks, both muggle and magical, had ensured to the point of obsession that the radio was fixed upon the muggle Christmas station so that your entire drive down would be filled with only the cheesiest Christmas songs and you'd even prepped some hot chocolate for the drive, placing two matching Christmas travel cups beside the kettle ready to make just before you left.

A loud crash pulled your attention right back to Fred as you watched him scrambling onto his feet, an array of once neatly wrapped packages on the floor around him. He looks around nervously before catching sight of you in the window, eyes widening, before he attempts to pick up the dropped presents.

Instantly you were moving to the door, your mind spiralling at the idea that they might be broken or wet from the snow, or if Fred was hurt in the skirmish.

"Are you okay?" You ask slightly breathlessly as you scramble to the door, trying to place your shoes on as quickly as you could.

"Sweetheart stay inside, it's icy and you're not coming out here until I can clear it," he says holding up a hand, eyes fixed on your bump as if you accentuate his words.

"What happened?" You ask, trying to steal a glance around his body to look for any damage to the presents that he was slowly picking up, stacking them high in his arms as he attempts to talk to you through a vision blocking stack of presents.

"Well I was trying to balance these ones and the bottom one slipped."

"You can't stack that many! No wonder they bloody fell!" You say, anger simmering under the surface as you watch more and more presents dangerously wobbling in his arms, swaying with the wind and from every movement he makes. "Stop stacking them so high."

"I can do it."

"Obviously you can't!" You snap, feeling the anger rising now from his obvious lack of care to the gifts that you had so painstakingly picked out and wrapped. "What if they're all broken?!"

"They're not all broken," he snarks.

"All? You mean there's broken ones?!" You exclaim, hardly able to push down your anger anymore. You and Fred hardly every argued, but when you did it was almost always a big one that lasted no more than five minutes before you were making up, sometimes longer if he was in the mood to sulk. Uncaring about the ice, you step outside and rush over to the back of the car where Fred continues to pick up the last of the presents from the ground, cringing at what follows when he picks up the very last one.

The telltale sound of damaged box fills your ears at a painfully ironic moment, the sound so obviously being something broken, shattered with the pieces rattling about inside. You gasp as you look upon the misshapen box, seeing the distinctive green wrapping paper all torn and wilted from the snow, knowing instantly what was inside, undoubtedly shattered beyond repair.

You're completely heartbroken at the sight before you and more angry with Fred than you ever remember being.

"You stupid git!" You say, hitting his arm as he turns to you with a look of apologetic shame, though you don't even remotely fall for it, too enraged to give a single thought to his feelings. "I told you that you couldn't carry that many! Now look what you've done!" The box falls from his hands again and lands in a heap on the floor, an ominous rattling crying out all the way down until it crashes upon making contact with the snow.

"It's just a present," he mumbles, trying to downplay the situation as he turns back towards the car, away from your body. His words and aversion to the situation only fuel your anger in the moment, seeing visions of his younger self so uncaring for the consequences of his actions even if it both directly and indirectly affected others.

"It's not just a present you git! It was Fleur's only Christmas present! You have no idea how long it took me to find it," you say, tears welling up in your eyes again as the anger turns to sorrow.'you knew how much she adored snow-globes, something from her childhood that she'd told you about in great detail one night at the Burrow. You'd gone searching around muggle antique stores for something within the brief and had been completely overwhelmed by the beauty of the snowglobe you found for her. It was a little over the budget but you didn't care, knowing how much she would love the beautifully ornate pink and gold filigree on the side, the tiny carousel horses inside that spun around with fine gold glitter covering the beautiful scene. It was decadent and beautiful, and now shattered in a box on your front drive, the glittery water leaking out of a large crack in the box and onto the snow.

"Just give her one of Ginny's," he says defensively, the hint of a shrug ghosting his coat-covered shoulders.

"Oh yeah perfect, because I'm sure she'd love a mug that says Mrs Potter to be!"

You march away from him in a foul mood, stomping your way back into the house as you close the door with a resounding slam, the wreath on the door quivering with the force.

It was the evening before Christmas Eve, you didn't have anything else to give her and you certainly couldn't show up empty handed for only one person, especially one that had become a good friend to you and who had admittedly struggled to fit in with the family at first. You felt wretched and suddenly wanted to stay at home, the idea of going to the Burrow now making you feel physically sick.

You winced as the pain in your back suddenly increased, making you grab ahold of the table beside the door for support as you felt it radiate through your back and settle into your pelvis.

"Look, why don't we just drop by somewhere on the way to mums? See if we can get a replacement." Fred says as he steps through the door, inevitably trailing snow throughout the hallway. You straighten up, recovering from the cramps and turn to him in disbelief, fresh annoyance consuming you again.

"It can't be replaced it was antique!"

"Well something similar then," he mumbles. You don't even fight his words, realising that he didn't have any semblance of idea of how hard you'd worked to make everything perfect for Christmas.

"You haven't even apologised," you huff, kicking off your shoes and wandering towards the kitchen, cringing at the pain that still remains in your lower back.

"What for?!" He asks, sounding mystified. "Hardly my fault I slipped, ice is icy funnily enough."

"Oh piss off Fred, you know it wasn't the ice," you spit out, reaching for a mug as you flick the kettle on again.

"I've had enough of this," he says angrily, marching right back out of the hall towards the front door that slams shut behind him. The silence that follows is almost suffocating as you stand looking at the place he stood only moments before.

The tears flowed freely now, though the gut wrenching sobs had stopped eventually. It had been around half an hour since your argument with Fred when you walked over to the door to attempt to reconcile, not wanting the stupid argument to ruin the last night in your home before tomorrows journey. It was getting late and you wanted to go to bed, exhausted both physically and emotionally and knew that stopping off somewhere tomorrow for a replacement gift for Fleur would only make your wake up call earlier. You sucked in a sharp breath when you stood up from the sofa, feeling a sharp pain shoot right up your pelvis and down your leg right to your toes, the cramping immediately resuming. You let out a few steady breaths and grabbed hold of your bump as if to help calm the pain and waddled towards the door.

When you saw that the car was no longer outside, with no sign of Fred anywhere and only tyre marks in the snow as proof, you knew instantly that he had left. Tears began to prickle at your eyes and you closed the door slowly with a weak shove, the tears coming once again. Fred had never left during an argument, had never just upped and decided to flee. You felt miserably guilty for your overreaction, even if it did seem deserved, and wished more than anything that you could just fix it and go to bed.

You went to make another cup of tea, needing the warmth and the comfort from the drink, the fire having long since died and the room feeling uncommonly chilly. A sharp pain suddenly radiated through your lower abdomen, like a crushing pain that tightened around your hips like a belt that was too small and you gasped, clutching hold of the counter as you waited for it to disappear. During your scramble to reach out for something solid to rest upon, the mug had been knocked to the side and you watched as your favourite mug tumbled to the floor, splintering at your feet into little ceramic shards.

The pain was increasing rather than disappearing and you felt the tightness all over your bump now. When it finally began to abate after a few seconds, your legs felt wobbly and you felt shaken, heart pounding and breathing unsteady as you tried to calm yourself. You barely managed to make it over to the sofa when the pain started again, radiating through your body with increasing intensity that felt like a wave slow building until it crashed upon the sand. You gripped the arm of the sofa as the apex of the pain consumed your body again, this time lasting even longer than before.

When the pain peaked, forcing you onto your hands and knees on the floor in front of the sofa, you realised with a sheer sense of panic that you were completely alone. You couldn't use the floo, couldn't apparate and now you also had no car to get you anywhere or to anyone. Your owl was delivering a message to the Burrow and still hadn't returned, clearly having flown to Wheezes instead, leaving you owl-less. You took long steady breaths when you could, relishing in the few moments of relief that came between your pains. It couldn't be labour, it just couldn't, even though logically you knew that it was more than possible as babies came when they were ready, not when you wanted them to.

You sighed when you felt another wave of pain starting in your extremities, rapidly increasing to a crushing pain around you back and in your last parts. The pain made you breathless and you could hardly believe how quickly things had escalated as you knelt on the floor trying to keep yourself calm but failing miserably in the middle of what you absolutely would not believe, but logically knew, was labour. You choked on a sob when you thought of Fred, that he'd left you at your most vulnerable time, that he'd miss the birth of your child and that you'd have to do this all alone. The plans you'd made for your birth were now completed ruined and you would no longer have the support of Molly, who had been overjoyed at being asked to support you. She was more than just your mother-in-law and after birthing seven children, there was no one else you trusted to guide you through labour. But now completely alone and trapped at home, would you survive? Women died in childbirth all the time, especially when birthing alone. What if the baby didn't survive? What if the cord was around their neck and you didn't know?

Almost like a switch had gone off in your mind, you focused on the task at hand, pushing all fear inducting thoughts out of your head and focused instead of what would be needed if you were going to do this alone. Warm towels, water, somewhere comfy for you to labour, somewhere warm and soft for the baby, baby clothes and a multitude of blankets. You looked towards the stairs and took a deep breath, trying your hardest to time yourself so that in the brief moments of reprieve you could climb the stairs to fetch what you'd need.

It took much longer than expected to collect everything you'd need, having to stop multiple times to cling onto the nearest surface and ride out the wave of pain that you could tell was getting worse and closer together. You'd barely made it down the stairs when another wave of pain hit you, making you stumble down the last step. You cried out at the searing pain that shot through you at the inadvertent step you'd taken, a lighting bolt of agony coursing through your pelvis, around your bump and settling deep in your groin. Your breath was shaky as you tried to recover from the pain but it didn't wane this time and instead focused purely in the centre of your pelvis. You notice by chance that it's past midnight now, the jingle of the little Christmas-themed muggle clock taunting you as to the announcement of a new day. Christmas Eve and you were alone, left to give birth entirely alone.

It takes everything you gave no to cry out, focusing instead on taking deep breaths and emitting a low groan as a way of vocalising your pain. You eventually make it back to the sofa, surrounded by all the things you'd need and allow yourself a little sob as you look at the equipment surrounding you, like an ominous scene of foreboding. Whatever motivation and strength you had previously momentarily slipped away and you allowed yourself to cry, both for the unrelenting pain and for your heartbreaking situation.

You let out another cry when a pain much stronger and more direct than before hits you full on, a crushing feeling from the inside that makes you feel lightheaded. You scramble to look down when you suddenly feel something wet beneath you, bringing your hand up to your legs to try and decipher what had caused it. You fight through another pain to pry off your wet bottoms and cast them aside, praying that you don't see any blood between your thighs. It's clear, the liquid that drips down your thighs, small sudden gushes turning to small drops as you battle to get a towel underneath you.

You're on all fours again, trying your hardest to take stabilising breaths when you hear the sound of the front door open.

"Fred!" You cry out in hope and desperation, the wail that falls from your lips an accumulation of the physical and emotional pain. It's the scream that you had wanted so desperately to let out as your body burns internally.

He's beside you in seconds and couldn't have been quicker if he'd apparated between the door and the living room. Your head falls forward as another contraction takes over, the sudden need to push consuming every instinct within you.

"I'm here sweetheart, I'm here it's okay," he coos, his hand instinctively reaching for your lower back as you circle your hips, trying desperately to bring relief.

You look up into his eyes and can see that he looks completely torn, eyes washing over your form as his mind whirls trying to formulate a plan. He looks completely overwhelmed under the surface, as much as he's pretending to be calm, panicked by the sudden chance in circumstances.

"Look sweetheart, I need to fetch mum, I'll be back in five minutes tops, I'll apparate right there and right back, can you handle that?"

He barely gets the words out before you scramble to reach out for him, clutching the bottom of his shirt desperately as you cringe from the movement of your torso.

"No please Freddie, please don't leave me alone again," you beg, already crying from the thought alone as you cling into him, tears streaming down your face. You're terrified of being alone again, desperate for him to stay by your side. You're scared and in pain, unable to think clearly.

"I won't leave," he says with a nod, trying to calm you, his brows knitting together as he tries to think of a backup. It's too late to drive you to St Mungo's and there's no way to side along apparate with you safely, especially now that labour had begun.

He does the only thing he can think of and pulls out his wand to cast his patronus, watching with a dwindling sense of hope that it would reach its destination quickly.

He pockets his wand again and turns his full attention back to you, trying to push some pressure into your back to relieve the pain in anyway he can, gently reminding you to take slow and deep breaths. There's so much that he needs to say to you, to apologise for, but that can wait until later, knowing that his focus had to be on you right now.

"Fred I need to push," you say with staggered breaths, a thin sheet of sweat covering your forehead.

"I know sweetheart, just a couple more minutes okay?" He says, still squatting down beside you. He prays to Merlin and to anyone else that might be listening for this to go well, for his patronus to have worked and failing that, for it to be an easy birth. He wasn't prepared for this, just a prankster turned businessman that had no knowledge of women's bodies beyond putting the baby there... getting it out was a completely different matter. 

"That's it sweetheart, you are doing so well, I'm so proud of you," he says, pushing back your hair that had stuck to your sweaty head, reaching for one of the little hand towels towels and enchanting it so that it was wet and cool before rubbing it softly over your forehead. You moan out and he hardly knows if it's because of the cooling sensation or because of the pain, but when you pull his washcloth holding hand back up to your forehead, he's pretty sure he has an idea.

"You are so strong princess, you're doing so well," he coos, trying his hardest to support you in your time of need. Truthfully, he was baffled how your body was doing this. You looked like you were in excruciating pain but yet you still carried on for the sake of the baby, your strength and resilience astounding him.

He jolts when he hears the telltale roar of flames in the fireplace and his heart leaps at the thought, had his patronus worked?

"Where is my, oh my dear!" Molly Weasley steps out of the floo induced flames of their fireplace and directly into the living room, giving herself a good shake as she spots her daughter in law on all fours in obvious labour. She pulls out her wand and casts a spell over herself that cleans off any sign of fireplace soot, then blasts the fireplace so that the regular flames resume to heat the home.

"Oh my dear," she rushes over, moving to kneel beside her daughter in law whose face scrunched up in pain, a silent scream of anguish falling from her lips.

"You should have got me sooner!" She points an accusing finger at her son who looks equal parts guilty and mortified as she strikes your hair out of your face, her eyes flicking between concern and anger between the two of you.

"I... I told him it wouldn't be yet," you stammer, hardly able to form the words. "I need to push!"

"Fred make yourself useful! Just like your father sat idly about, fetch some more towels and pillows from the bed, honestly you men." Molly surges into caring mode and for once Fred does exactly as she says without any backchat or hesitation. Her very presence is reassuring to you and you feel instantly calmed just by having her by your side.

"Well I have to say it, you do make beautiful babies," Molly coos as she looks at the three of you huddled together on the bed. Fred looks tired but peaceful, his arm wrapped protectively around you as your new baby stays latched on to your breast, bundled in soft blankets that her grandma had knitted especially for her. You're exhausted but overwhelmingly happy, and perhaps a little bit shocked by how quickly everything had progressed throughout the day and night.

"Right I'm off, as long as you're all okay? Oh I can't wait to tell your father he'll be overjoyed! I'm only an owl away if you need anything and I mean that, yes?"

"Thank you, for allowing me to experience this. I have a feeling this little one will be my favourite yet," Molly smiles as she leans down to glide her fingers across the little one's cheek lovingly. She looks up to you and smiles warmly, leaning down to give you a kiss on top of your head. "And very well done dear, you did brilliantly."

Fred walks his mother out, knowing that she had never liked apparating and would be using the floo to get home. You can hear their voices as they go downstairs but you can't hear what's being said and you look down at the cooing baby in your arms, watching her closed eyes and quick but steady breaths. She really is perfect, her little button nose, long lashes and tuft of distinctive red hair that was currently hidden beneath her little hat. 10 fingers, 10 toes and a striking resemblance to her dad that after the intense labour you'd just endured felt like a hilarous but tiny smack in the face.

When Fred returns, he's beaming. He pauses, leaning against the doorframe as he looks at the sight before him, his girls.

"How are you feeling sweetheart?" He asks, gently climbing onto the bed beside you.

"Exhausted," you say with a laugh, trying hard not to jiggle the little one too much with your laughter. "But I'm happy."

"Me too. Here, let me take her so you can get some rest."

You want to protest but you're worried your eyes will close at any second even though you're trying your hardest to keep them open, your body just too exhausted. You hand Fred the sleeping baby, passing her over gently like she could shatter at any moment from being so fragile and within moments of your head touching the pillow, you're out like a light.

"Wait till you meet your uncle George, and auntie Ginny, and uncle Percy, and Ron, and Charlie and Bill... there's a lot of them to remember I know, but it's mainly uncle George and Auntie Angelina you have to remember kid. Don't even get me started on the others, aunt Hermione, uncle Harry, auntie Fleur and then there's your granny and grandad."

"Trying to bore her back to sleep with your family tree?" You smile, noticing Fred and your little girl cuddled together in the little armchair in the corner next to her bassinet. He huffs a laugh, turning to you with so much adoration in his eyes that it momentarily leaves you breathless.

"Just getting her up to speed," he smirks, reaching down with his hand to grab her hand gently, "you going to say good morning to your beautiful mummy?" He gently manipulated her hand so that she gives you a little wave and you laugh, sitting up in bed with a slight wince.

"So I guess Fred Jr is off the table now eh?" He says with a wiggle of his eyebrows as he stands up from the chair, bringing your daughter over to you, her face a perfect picture of contentment.

"It was never on the table," you say with a smirk, greedily reaching for your daughter.

"Well you surprised us little one," Fred says to his daughter as she begins to stir. "Thought we'd be naming you something new yearsey, but you're a little Christmas Angel."

As if the concept of time and days had just returned to you, you realise that your daughter was born on Christmas Eve, your own little Christmas miracle.

"Holly?" Fred suggests, your nose scrunching up at the suggestion, not liking how obvious it was.

"What about Evangeline?" You ask, looking down at the sweet face, trying to weight up what name suited her the most. "Nickname Eve or Evie?"

"Evangeline Weasley..." Fred muses, as if trying it out for himself, "I love it." He beams, as if the missing puzzle piece has just slotted in to place.

"Merry Christmas little Evangeline," he coos, watching as she yawns, her eyes opening with a little squint as if by some miracle, answering to her name. Fred kisses you and you're happier than you've felt in a long time, the heartbreak of yesterday long forgotten and forgiven as you celebrate your first Christmas together as a family of 3.

[toxicanonymity]

twin peaks.

4k, Joel x afab!reader x Tommy, ONE SHOT A/N: This is my @pedrostories secret santa gift. @endlessthxxghts, you're on my nice list. Happy holidays! ♥️ Ty for the flexibility and for engaging with fics you like, which gave more ideas 🖤. Please excuse the extra men, don't need to remember names. Ty @jksprincess10 for your afab insights! WARNINGS: I8+, Motorcycle Club AU, but Joel is no longer riding. You're a chef. Language. Bar fight. Blood. Gunfire. My first attempt at mild grumpy/sunshine. Passing reference to a bar server's prior SA incident. An OC gets in your personal space and touches your side. Hurt/Comfort. Minor love triangle, I guess, but everyone’s cool. Unsafe P in V, creampies. MFM but only joel inside. The men can lift you. You’re shorter than them. Competency kink, mild size kink, sharing. Starts in Joel POV. There are a few characters from The Bikeriders. BIKER JOEL RECS: both sides of the moon by @lunitawrites and (and ty for this list luna lol)  a minute from home by @agentmarcuspike, little mouse by @katiexpunk & @josephquinnswhore., the road to love by @jobean12-blog

dividers from @cafekitsune for POV change and time jump

“Changed the recipe,” Joel grumbles. 

Tommy shakes his head with a smile. “Ya know, brother. . . you might be the only one who comes here for the wings.” 

“Cause they’re the best. Or they *were*. Taste this.” Joel pushes the basket over to Tommy and takes a swig of beer, then adds, “If I wanna see some skin, I’ll go to a proper titty bar.”

The uniforms are cute at Twin Peaks, but Joel is there for two reasons: the wings and the company. He sold his Harley and quit the club after a minor accident. It left him only a little scraped up but scared his daughters to death. Now these biker bars are the only place he sees his old crew.

“Shit, they did change it,” Tommy concedes. “Maybe ya should send’em back,” he teases.

“Not a bad idea,” Joel mutters. 

“Really?” Tommy asks. 

“‘S’cuse me. Miss?” The scantily clad server turns around. “They musta changed the recipe, I can’t eat these.” 

“Oh no,” the server frowns. “Sorry ‘bout that, lemme see what I can do.” The server takes the wings back to the kitchen. 

-

A minute later, you emerge from the kitchen in your chef’s whites and Joel does a double take. You smile at him as you approach. 

“Oh, shit,” Tommy elbows him, but Joel hardly notices. He’s captivated by you, but he keeps a straight face. 

“Heard the wings weren’t to your liking,” you cringe empathetically. 

“Why’d ya go and change the Hot Honey recipe.”

“I’m sorry, hun. Hot Honey’s off the menu, that’s the closest we’ve got.”

“It’s *what* now? Why’d ya take it off?”

You sigh with an apologetic smile. “Wasn’t my call.” Then you perk up. “But I think you might really like the new Thai Spice recipe,” you smile.

“Don’t think so,” Joel grumbles. 

“He don’t like change,” Tommy explains. 

“How ‘bout a basket on the house?” You offer with a tilt of your head and raise of your eyebrows. 

Joel is flustered by your charm. “Uh, sure,” he mutters, trying not to check you out. Not much to see anyway with that chef’s apron.

“If ya like’em, buy me a drink sometime,” you add with a wink that makes Joel lose all his thoughts for a moment. 

“Yes, chef,” Joel nods, which makes both you and Tommy giggle. Then you turn and head back to the kitchen. 

“I dunno what they see in ya, man,” Tommy teases Joel and watches as you walk away. “Mm. Hottest thing here and dressed like a paper towel roll.” Joel fails to suppress a chuckle. “You gonna share?”

“We’ll see.”

-

The front door to the restaurant opens, and a hush falls over the dining room. 

Joel looks over his shoulder for only a second, then turns back toward the bar and mutters, “Fuckin’ Benny.”

“And the Jets,” Tommy adds as Johnny and at least half the rival crew follow Benny into the restaurant. Great, there’s Cal, Carter’s rotten brother. Real bad guy. Their motorcycle club is dangerous.

Joel gets his wallet out of his pocket and pulls out a few twenties, then downs the rest of his beer. “Didn’t come to babysit.”

“Think it’ll get ugly?” Tommy asks. “What about your new friend?”

“My new friend?” 

“‘member what happened with Carter’s girl?” Of course Joel remembers. Cal got handsy with her, Carter put him in a chokehold, and a nasty fight broke out. Carter got stabbed.

“Well, I ain’t in charge and don’t got a sweetheart, so I reckon chef hottie’s okay. Where’s Carter?” 

“Home. Can’t ride, already busted his stitches open once.” 

“Good. His girl ain’t workin’ either.” Joel’s face tenses and his nostrils flare as his gaze falls on Cal. “Cal shouldn’t be here.” Joel has to look away before his rage gets the best of him. Joel glances at a table of his own guys (now Carter's), and he isn’t surprised to see one of his buddies putting on brass knuckles. Ya don’t stab the leader and get away with it, but Joel sure wishes this would go down somewhere else. Joel does a double take when he sees another man at the same table reach for his hip. “Damnit, Harold,” Joel whispers to himself. 

“Better hit the boys room ‘fore all hell breaks loose,” Tommy mutters and gets up from his chair. 

—---you—--

Tonight’s the first time you’ve spoken with Joel, but you’ve noticed him before. His quiet, dark gaze is hypnotizing. The girls are all over him, and he doesn’t show any interest. He sits there scowling with his drink. 

When the chatter of the restaurant abruptly dies down, a pit forms in your stomach. Heavy boots click on the floor, and it sounds like they’re slowly circling the room like sharks.  “Hey sweetheart,” Benny croons out of view in that deep, smooth voice. He looks like a young, brunette Elvis. “You new?”

“Started this week,” the new bartender answers bashfully. 

“Bet they didn’t teach ya the whole job. Benny'll show ya the ropes,” says a deep voice that makes you bristle. It’s smooth. Southern. Sinister. It's Cal. You can visualize his infectious wink. 

One of your cooks puts Joel’s new wing basket on expo.  You compose yourself and grab it with a smile. “I’ll take this one.” You put on your blinders and don’t make eye contact with any of the men, but you notice Tommy walk by, headed toward the back. 

Before you make it behind the bar, Cal intercepts you. “Whoa, what’s cookin’, baby? You believe this, Benny? Keepin’ top talent locked up in the back.” 

Benny’s too wrapped up with the server to respond. 

“Thanks for the snack,” Cal tells you with his eyes roving your apron as he reaches for the basket. You pull it back. “Hey, what’s under this, anyway?” He skims your apron from the side and crowds you against the wall. He braces his arm against the wall, over you. “Got one of them sexy uniforms under this?”

“Excuse me,” you say and try to duck under and around him. 

“I wouldn’t move, darlin’,” Cal taunts.

“What the hell are you doin’ back here,” a man asks behind Cal. 

Cal laughs and looks over his shoulder, and you manage to free yourself. 

“Ain’t worth it, Harold,” Joel warns as he approaches, then Joel turns his attention to you. “You okay?”

-. . .-

Joel gets between you and the brawling men. You hear a blow land on someone, and they spit. Then there’s a click, and before you know it, you’re on the floor, tackled by Joel as a gunshot makes your ears ring. The wind is knocked out of you. 

Joel is on top of you, and time seems to slow down. Cal is slumped against the wall behind Joel, bleeding from the mouth and chest with a menacing smile. 

“Look at me,” Joel says and his massive hand turns your head to face him, bracing his other arm near your head on the tiled floor. “Look at me and only me.” His body is heavy on top of yours. 

You nod as chaos unfolds in the dining room. 

“You okay?” Joel searches your face. 

You nod again, and try to ground yourself with everything you’re physically feeling. The coldness of the tile under your hand. The weight of his body on top of you. The warmth of. . .the massive bulge pressing into your thigh. Joel doesn’t seem to be aware of it, but you sure are now. A wave of desire overwhelms you. Your thigh lifts against his hardening package and it twitches but he still doesn’t seem to notice with everything else going on. He glances behind himself.  

“Gonna get ya outta here,” he promises. “Ready?”

Behind you, someone opens the door to the men’s room, belt jingling. “Shit.” You recognize Tommy’s voice. 

“Bathroom,” Joel commands as he helps you up, then gently pushes you into Tommy’s arms. He nods toward the family restroom, which has a lock. “Gonna take this outside,” Joel pants as he heads into the fray.

“Joel, don’t–you’re outnumbered, don’t get yourself killed,” Tommy pleads.  There’s another gunshot. “Shit, I’ll be right there!” he shouts at Joel

“NO,” Joel barks. 

-

Tommy forces you into the family restroom and locks the door behind the two of you. “You okay?” he asks. You don’t answer.  You wouldn’t be able to without crying. He rubs your back, then searches your face. “Breathe for me, darlin’.”

You tug at the high collar of your chef’s apron, trying to unbutton it for relief.  Tommy quickly rips it open, exposing your tank top. His eyes linger for a moment, then he cradles your head and takes a deep breath, guiding you in your own breathing. He exhales, then murmurs, “You’re okay, honey.” 

You nod and take the apron off entirely, with him supporting you. “Yeah,” you laugh not to cry, but with tears in your eyes. “I’m good.” 

“Good, good. C’mere, darlin’.” His strong arms wrap you in a gentle, protective hug, cradling your head into his barrel chest. You take a deep breath, and the scent of his shampoo intoxicates you. “You’re okay,” he repeats. 

You pull your head back to look up at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches. Then something else twitches, against your middle.  That’s when you feel the denim slide under your hand and realize you’ve grabbed Tommy’s ass. What the fuck. You yank your hand out of his back pocket and stammer “Sorry–” feeling like your face is on fire. Why did you do that? You try to pull away but he gently holds you close. 

“‘S’okay,” he chuckles. “Adrenaline. It’s normal.” He dips his head and it’s close to yours. It gets a little closer, then there’s more gunfire and he releases his gentle hold on you. He bolts toward the door. “Lock it behind me” is the only thing he says as he leaves. 

You lock the door, then slump down against the wall. Is this real life? What’s gotten into you? Feeling up Tommy Miller in the bathroom less than an hour after you asked his brother out. Yeah, it must be adrenaline. The noise of the fight fades into the background while your thoughts drift back to Joel saving you. He’s so big and strong. So protective. You’ve heard how dangerous he is, but to see him in action? While he’s saving you, no less? 

-

Finally the noises have died down. You wonder if it’s safe to leave. You worry about whether Joel and Tommy and your line cooks are okay. You wait a little longer, then unlock the door and peek your head out. Cal staggers toward you, dripping blood. “It’s okay, I’m alright,” he drawls. Then you swiftly close and lock the door, heart pounding. A few seconds later, boots thud across the dining room and a punch is thrown. You hear Cal groan. “C’mon, man.” Another blow lands and Cal goes silent. There’s a knock at the bathroom door. 

“It’s me.” Joel’s voice. You’re still near the door. You unlock it for him. He comes inside and you must look terrified. He holds your cheeks, and his face and shirt are splattered with blood - surely not his own. He hugs you into him. “It’s me, baby. You’re okay.” His voice is deep and soft. He holds you for a minute. When he pulls back again to look at you, his eyes fall to your tank top and he wets his lips. He looks in your eyes again, then at your mouth. 

You close the distance with a soft kiss. Joel’s mouth spreads your lips open, and his tongue finds yours. As the kiss heats up, he pulls you tighter, moaning “Mm,” and you feel it again, you feel him. His hands slide down to grab your ass, pulling your hips into his, and he’s firmer. Lord, is he hung. He lets out a low growl from his chest, and he walks forward against you until the backs of his hands nudge the sink counter – thankfully clean. 

He bends down and his mouth latches onto your neck. He slips his fingertips into the front waistband of your pants, grabbing the button, then pulls away from your neck to pleadingly meet your eyes, and you nod urgently. He takes your pants and underwear down in a flash, then his hand engulfs your bare pussy and he groans at how wet you are. He kisses your neck again for a moment before hooking his massive hands, one of them wet, around the backs of your thighs. He lifts you onto the sink with a grunt as your legs wrap around him and you feel a rush of desire.

Joel sloppily kisses around your mouth with one hand between your legs and the other cradling your head. His scruff scratches you pleasantly. You grope him through his jeans, which are slick with your arousal, as you unbutton and unzip him. Then his own hand dives into his boxers and frees his thick cock, holding it at the right angle to slide right into you, pants and boxers resting below his balls.

“C’mere, baby.” He runs his stiff cock through your folds and you slowly grind against it with a moan. He spits on his shaft and his swollen, leaking tip prods at your entrance for only a moment before plunging into your wet hole and spreading your insides with his girth. There’s a brief burn, then your body catches up. On his second go, he bottoms out with a groan, and you gasp.

 “Yeah,” he sighs and begins to fuck you, slowly at first. “How’s that?” 

You can only nod, feeling so full of him you can hardly listen or form thoughts.  “Ohh,” you whimper as he stuffs you with his massive cock. Your skin feels hot. He speeds up to a moderate pace and you both moan and grunt as you fuck. He kisses and sucks your neck, moaning into your skin, then he breathes against it. He fucks you harder, deeper

“How’s it feel, baby–ohhh” He slams his pelvis into yours each time. 

“Ohhh, God, it’s, yeah, nngh–ohh”

Footsteps come down the hall, and stop outside the door. 

“Wait,” you whisper.”

“Want me to wait?” he whispers teasingly, slowing down to an excruciating pace, dragging slow and heavy inside you. 

You shake your head no. 

“Good,” he whispers. 

Tommy’s knowing voice outside the door: “Catch y’all later.” Then the footsteps recede. 

“Now please, please” you beg, wanting it harder again. You pull him close and grind your pelvis into his in just the right spot. “Ohh, Joel.” The pleasure overwhelms you and you whimper as you begin to clench and pulse. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, “Where do you want it?” 

“Right here,” you nod, pulling him closer, keeping him inside with your legs around him. 

Joel erupts with a groan, filling your hot, wet cunt with warm bursts, slowly thrusting into you as he empties his balls. 

“God damn, you’re somethin’ else.” 

---a few weeks later—

"Ain't wearin' a stupid holiday sweater," Joel grumbles. You and Joel have been seeing each other, and now you're going to Tommy’s holiday party with him.

"C'mon, just for the party. It'll be fun," you smile hopefully.

"Gimme a break, baby. Nothin' fun about sweaters."

"Don't be a Grinch," you pout.

"Thought I was a Scrooge," he retorts. 

"What if I let you fuck me in Tommy's bed?"

He squints at you. "God damnit, my heart just grew three sizes."

You look down at his jeans and smile saucily. You don't have to make the joke out loud. "Can't wait," you purr and hand him the sweater.  

"Tommy'd lose his mind," Joel shakes his head, then raises his eyebrows. "And not in the bad way." 

"Oh yeah?"

Joel gives a low whistle. "You should see him droolin' when ya walk away." Joel chuckles, and your face heats up. 

"Well. Maybe we shouldn't, then. . ."

"Don't see why not," Joel shrugs. 

You look away shyly.

"What's got you all flustered?" 

"Nothing," you shake your head, but you can't push away the thought of Tommy walking in and losing his 'mind.' 

Joel smirks. "Don't look like nothin'."

"Just excited to see you in a sweater," you run your hand through his curls. 

"I ain't the jealous type if ya wanna give Tommy some sugar, too."

You gasp and can't hide your embarrassed smile. Your face is burning. "He told you.” 

Joel plays stupid. “Told me what?” 

Your hand drifts up to cover your mouth. 

“Just sayin’, if ya wanna grab him in a nicer setting. . .”

“Joel!" You gently smack his chest. 

“Musta been the highlight of his life,” Joel laughs. “Post-divorce, at least.” 

"Naughty list for you." You press his sweater into his chest and go to the closet to change into your own. 

----

When you’re standing at the door of Tommy’s ranch, your heart is racing. 

“Relax, baby.” He rubs your back. 

“You were serious?” you ask. 

“Yeah, but ya don’t gotta. Just sayin’ it’s fair game.” 

Your eyes meet and he cups your cheek. You whisper, “thanks for wearing the sweater.” 

Joel gives you a kiss right as the door opens, and Tommy teases, “You two need a room already?” Tommy’s wearing a festive cardigan open over a wifebeater and his huge belt buckle. He stands aside to let you in, and you don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your mouth. 

Sarah brings her husband, and you spend much of the night talking to them, hearing old stories about Joel. It’s a small party, adults only, and most of the parents have to get home to their babysitters, but Ellie is staying at Bill and Frank’s for the week to help with their Christmas tree farm. It’s a real treat for her and also her first “job.” 

—

You don’t steal Joel away during the party, and he doesn’t try either. But when everyone else is gone, you and Joel stay for a drink with Tommy. He offers that you’re welcome to stay over since the kids are with Maria. 

“Where ya want us?” Joel asks. 

“Well, my bed’s the most comfy,” Tommy looks at you and adds a wink that gives you butterflies. 

Joel nods with an intrigued frown. “Whatcha think, honey?”

“Okay,” you nod. You’re afraid to act too eager, but can hardly believe your luck. 

-

In Tommy’s room, Tommy reclines on the bed, while Joel holds you in a hug. Joel turns your chin to meet his eyes and asks “Comfortable?”

You nod and smile. 

“Ready to be even more comfortable?” 

Joel kisses you gently, sensually. Then his lips become hungrier, and you lose yourself in his rising desperation. He moans into your mouth and pulls you closer against him. He walks against you until you’re at the bed, and when you glance back to make sure you don’t fall, you see Tommy reclining with his ankles crossed, palming himself over his jeans. He holds your gaze and begins to undo that big belt buckle, and you get a rush of arousal. 

With you seated on the bed and Joel looms over you. The curves of his hulking muscles stretch his sweater. Your eyes fall to his jeans, and you can see the outline of his massive erection. You reach for the button and he murmurs, “yeah, there ya go,” and affectionately cradles your head while you unbutton and unzip him. Then he takes his sweater off over his head and his under-tee rides up exposing his happy trail. “Let’s get that sweater off, Tommy.” 

You turn around and see Tommy is on all fours with his cardigan already off. He’s prowling across the bed, to the foot of it where you sit. Tommy sits up on his knees behind you, and wraps his arms around. He lifts at the bottom hem of your sweater and brings his mouth to your ear to murmur, “Yeah, let’s get comfortable.” You raise your arms and he takes off the sweater for you then cups your breasts. You pull off your bra from under your tank top while Joel takes off his jeans. 

“Shit, let’s take it all off,” Tommys says with his voice briefly muffled by his wifebeater as he pulls it over his head. “Nothin’ like three bare bodies all twisted up.” His giant belt clinks as he unbuckles it behind you. Joel steps out of his jeans, leaving the tent in his boxers on full display, making you gush. He bends down to help take your tank top off, then he kisses you as he unfastens your pants. Joel kisses down your body as he removes your pants and underwear. 

“Come on up here,” Tommy mutters and wraps an arm around you. He pulls you up toward the pillows, then stacks them behind himself and pulls you between his legs where you can feel he is fully nude and hard. His skin is hot and smooth. You're both facing Joel. 

You sit between Tommy’s moderately hairy legs, and his broad palms cup your naked breasts. “How ya doin’, darlin’?” he whispers into your ear. His cock twitches against your lower back. “Ready for my brother?”

You nod, “Yeah.” 

“He’s ready too.”

Joel is kneeling onto the bed with his commanding cock in hand. He pauses to squeeze himself, eyes roving over you like you’ve never looked hotter. “Look like an angel, baby. Can’t wait to be in ya.” Tommy lightly grinds himself against your lower back, then his hands come to your thighs, and you spread them open for Joel. 

“Always so good,” Joel mumbles, then kisses you deeply and you feel his cock run through your dripping seam.  You’re wet, so wet for him. He’s still kissing you, letting your lips separate every second or so.  His face pulls back and Tommy slightly adjusts you between his legs. Tommy’s cock is stiff against your back. Joel’s tip nudges your entrance, then he pushes himself into you. Tommy’s hands are still on your breasts. Joel leans over you, bracing his hands on the bed to either side of Tommy’s thighs. It still makes you swoon how his big cock stuffs you full. As Joel thrusts into you, Tommy ruts against you, moaning softly. The force of Joel’s thrusts makes you rub against Tommy’s stiff manhood and he groans.

“Feel so good, baby,” Joel breathes. 

“Take’ him so well,” Tommy  whispers. 

Your breath hitches and you moan into Joel’s mouth with his cock dragging thickly deep inside you. Tommy massages your breasts and grinds into you while Joel kisses you and fucks you good. It feels better and better every minute. Joel dips his hips and grinds against your front as he stuffs  you with his cock. You feel the tension building in your belly, and your clit twitches. 

You tear your mouth away from Joel’s and whine, “Joel.”

“Oh, baby, gonna cum already?”

You whimper and nod. 

“It’s okay, baby. Go ‘head,” Tommy whispers. 

“Yeah, let it happen, baby,” Joel agrees. 

Then Joel, with his cock still seated inside you, rolls his hips to put more pressure on your front, and  Tommy grinds against your lower back, and you clench down on Joel’s cock with a moan. 

“Oh, Fuck,” Joel whispers and he begins to pulse at the exact same time you feel Tommy erupt against you. The three of you come in a cacophony of grunts and moans and Tommy’s sliding wetly against your crack as his cum trickles down. 

Joel stays inside as he catches his breath, then slides out of you, and some of his cum drips down between Tommy’s legs. 

“Think ya might be the one I been lookin' for,” Joel mumbles. He gives you a slow kiss.

You get cleaned up, then you sleep like three spoons stacked together with Joel in front. 

===

Thank you for reading!

: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

[cepheustarot]

What awaits you in January?

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.

Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: The first half of the month will be wonderful for you, in general you will have a good mood and no sudden mood swings, this month you will have a good opportunity to start something new, change something in your life, change of scenery. It is also very likely that you will receive an expensive gift from someone, you can get a bonus at work or you will improve your academic performance and you will pass all important tests for good grades, in general success will be waiting for you. Further, in the middle of the month you will be invited to some event, it may be a wedding or someone’s birthday (maybe yours) or any other holiday. This event will be very good for you, you will get many positive emotions and pleasant memories, it will be a very fun event. At the end of the month you will feel a breakdown, maybe the whole month you will have a busy event and it will wear you out, you will get tired, so it will be very important at the end of the month to give yourself a rest and clear  your head. You may also have unforeseen circumstances that you were not prepared for, so be careful! 

Pile 2: At the beginning of the month you will be successful in career/studies, you can be promoted or transferred to a larger firm, in general there will be positive changes. As for study, you will learn a lot and try, because your work will pay off and you will have good grades. Also at the beginning of the month there will be the possibility to engage in self-development or something creative, maybe you will also teach and train someone, will be in the role of a mentor. At the beginning of the month you will also have good unexpected news! In the middle of the month you will continue to maintain your energy and productivity, there will be events that are not related to work or school: you may have many meetings with people, friends or you will receive invitations to the party, Take part in organizing activities and etc. You can also do dance or any other sport, any other active activity. The end of the month will be stable for you, but here it will be best to pay attention to your budget, you should start saving money to feel safe in unforeseen situations. 

Pile 3: The beginning of the month will be busy, you will feel like a real workaholic, the days will be productive for you. It is important to keep in mind that success depends on you and how much you put in to achieve it. In addition, for you here will be a topical painstaking activity, requiring increased attention to detail. In the middle of the month you will be successful, you will come much closer to achieving your goals and plans, you can also go on a trip in mid-January or start traveling. In general, everything will be related to movement, maybe you buy a new transport or get a driver’s license. So the end of the month will be energetic for you and you will be in good spirits, maybe you will often go to parties, dates, meet people and spend time with them, or maybe you will try yourself as a host or participate, try acting, maybe take acting classes. Here in any case you will be in the center of attention, you will develop your charisma. 

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

🖤Eddie Audios 3🖤

So sorry this took so long! Soundgasm was down for me for about a week, not to mention the holiday and new years making me super overwhelmed 😅 plus a few of the audios became defunct after a bit so i had to find new ones to replace them but i finally finished them! i put all of the SFW audios first and added the NSFW audios under the cut :) enjoy my loves 🫶

Tag List- @eddies-girl-22 @munsonsposts @braindelete

First Audio List 🖤

Second Audio List 🖤

⚠️Warning⚠️- All of these audios are 18+ unless specified otherwise and are intended for afab/female listeners. The voices aren’t going to match up 100%, i picked out audios that reminded me more of their character than their voice.

SFW

You make your boyfriend Eddie go shopping with you

Eddie wants to snuggle

Eddie NEEDS you to stay home today

Waking up next to Eddie

Eddie helps you get back to sleep

Your boyfriend Eddie stays up with you on vacation

Boyfriend Eddie calls you on the way over

After you and Eddie’s first date

Eddie distracts you while trying to study

Morning after spending the night with Eddie

NSFW

Eddie guides you through your first time (this audio is a bit longer than i expected it to be 😅)

Helping Eddie clean up after Hellfire

Eddie helps take your stress away

Eddie wants you to take a seat

Roommate Eddie shows you his handcuffs

Seeing your childhood ‘friend’ Eddie again

Goofy boyfriend Eddie wants to give you the best birthday gift

Eddie sneaks into your bedroom

Finally getting to sleep with your best friend Eddie

Your boyfriend Eddie wants you to be more dominant

Eddie makes you feel better when you’re feeling insecure

Eddie tries being submissive

Eddie making you use your words

Eddie helps you get back at your roommate

Snuggly morning sex with Eddie

Eddie wants to take his time with you

Eddie can’t sleep

Eddie wants you to take control

You want Eddie to be your first

A nice, quiet shower with Eddie

[thewillowtree3]

Korrasami Secret Santa 2024!! ;DDDD!! ❤️❤️

Hi, Korrasami fam!! We're back!! ;DDDDD!!

We're doing Korrasami Secret Santa for 2024!! (I did copy this from Korrasami Secret Santa 2024. Always will!! ;DDDD!!). 7 YEARS AND KICKING BABEY LET'S GO!! ;DDDD!! ❤️❤️❤️

The rules are the same:

Korrasami creators will be able to gift one another with Secret Santa gifts. Whether it be fics, art, videos, animations…the fun’s all there! (It doesn’t have to be holiday-themed! It can be whatever you want :)

The Process:

This Secret Santa exchange will be done through drawnames.com, which is a Secret Santa Name Generator. You’ll need your email for this, and you can message me it directly on Tumblr (I’ll gather everyone’s names up, and put them into the generator when it’s time to draw names.)

The due date to sign up is 11:59 PM Nov 29, 2024 PDT (I’d like everyone to have ample time to do their Secret Santa gifts). :)

Most likely, you’ll need to make an account on drawnames.com (you don’t need to, but it’s recommended.  When you get to writing your Wish List on there, under ‘Hobbies and Interests’, make two different lists: One for ‘Fic Requests’, the other for ‘Art Requests’. If a writer draws your name, you’ll have a suggestion for what you want them to write. If an artist draws your name, they’ll have an idea of what to create! (Also, originally, this project only had fanfic and fanart- but if anyone can contribute any other talents, that’d be swell!)

Example: Fic Request- I want Korra and Asami cuddling at home with a fireplace!

Art Request: I want Korrasami going otter-penguin sledding!

The fic and art requests can be the same, or they can be different. Please limit it to one, or if you can’t choose, then two options. You can also note things that you don’t want (i.e. No smut or NSFW work!). You can be as specific as you wish.

Also, everyone else! We recognize that there may be people in the fandom who don’t create content, but still want to contribute! @lamftw​ came up with these great ideas four years ago, if you’d still like to participate in the Secret Santa. You can:

Create Korrasami memes! The more memes, the better :)

Share your favorite Korrasami headcanons! We’d love to hear them.

Share your favorite artwork/fanfic!

Share your favorite moment from LoK or share how much Korrasami means to you.

Create Korrasami memes, write a sweet holiday message/ note of appreciation :)

Also, we can all show some love to our favorite creators, to Bryke, Janet Varney, and Seychelle Gabriel (the voice of Korra and Asami, respectively). :)

When everyone has signed up, I’ll put all the names into the Secret Santa Name Generator. You should get an email, asking you to join the Secret Santa exchange. Just click ‘Join Group’, and you’re good! Once everyone has joined, the names will then be drawn, and you’ll get your chosen individual (you’ll get an email for this too). Please remember to check your email on Dec 1; we cannot draw names unless everyone has joined the Secret Santa group!

The reveal will be on Dec 19, 2024 (the 10TH KORRASAMI ANNIVERSARY!! ;DDDD!!). Post your work on Tumblr, and tag the person you got, so they’ll know what lovely work they got! Also, please tag ‘Korrasami Secret Santa’ so we can save these posts for the future :).

Please note that if you sign up, you HAVE to commit to making something. This is open to all creators, of any skill level, but please please make something if you sign up. You don’t wanna leave anyone hanging!

Last note- remember to message me on Tumblr and give me your email. That’s the way to sign up! :)

10TH KORRASAMI ANNIVERSARY BABEYY LETS FUCKING GOO!! ;DDDD!! ❤️❤️✨✨

LET'S DO THIS AND MAKE THIS THE BEST ANNIVERSARY EVER!! ;DDDD!! ❤️❤️🌈🌈✨

SPREAD THIS TO✨ ALL YOUR CREATOR FRIENDS!! ;DDDD!!🌈🌈❤️❤️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

7TH YEARS IN A ROW LET'S FUCKING GOOO!! ;DDDDD!! ❤️❤️🌈🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈✨✨✨💐💐🎊🎊🎉🎉🥳🥳❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤍🖤🤎💖💝💗❤️❤️💙💜💙💜🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈✨;DDDD!!

[theemporium]

wolfstar x reader remus and sirius spoiling reader

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

“This is too much.” 

“One would argue it’s not enough.” 

“I’m serious—”

“No, I���m Sirius.” 

You shot the boy a look, completely unamused by the joke. But it was a little hard to look threatening when you were surrounded by a variety of bags and boxes from different shops—which Sirius was happy to remind you every time you tried glaring at him from your spot on his bed. 

You had chosen to stay in for the weekend, the upcoming assignments and exams stressing you out more than you cared to admit. Your boyfriends had tried to convince you to take a break, to go out for a few hours at least and enjoy some fresh air but you had waved them off and told them to enjoy a cute day out without you. There was plenty of time after exams to make up for the lost time. 

So you could imagine your surprise when Remus and Sirius had returned from their day out in Diagon Alley and started showering you in gift bags and gift boxes until you could barely see the notes you had spread across the bed to revise—until you could barely move from the bed yourself.

“You have to return these,” you told the boys, shaking your head as you tried to mentally calculate just how much everything would have cost. There were bags with shop names you didn’t even recognise because it was in the fancier parts of Diagon Alley you usually ignored. “This is insane—”

“It’s what you deserve,” Remus corrected you as he walked into the room, unashamed in the way he placed the last of the bags at the foot of the bed. “You’re working yourself too hard, love, you deserve something for all your hard work.” 

Your cheeks burned. “I haven’t even finished my exams, I could have done completely shit—”

“And we would still buy you a world’s worth of gifts,” Sirius said with a casual shrug. “I have more money than I know what to do with, darling, it’s only right I treat my girl.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you glanced back down at the gifts surrounding you. Your family was by no means poor. You had what you needed with a roof over your head and food on your plate. You got gifts from your parents on holidays and special occasions, and sometimes a little spending money if you were lucky. 

But this? This wasn’t something you were used to at all. 

“Relax, darling,” Remus cooed softly when he noticed the look on your face, like he could see the thoughts swirling in your head and sending you into overdrive. “We just wanna show you that we appreciate you, that’s all this is.” 

You nodded a little. “That’s a lot of appreciation.” 

Sirius’ lips twitched. “You’re our good girl, the best girl for us.” 

You squirmed a little under his intense gaze, clearing your throat a little. “I still think this is completely unnecessary.” 

Remus just winked in response, trying to hold back his smirk. “Don’t worry, love, I’m sure you can find a way to make it up to us.” 

“A few of these gifts are for us too,” Sirius commented vaguely, though the glimmer of desire in his eyes gave you a good idea just what a few of these bags held inside them.

.

[jollmaster]

is It alright if i ask to get some information about how Sheol work? Like the holidays, the royal duties, how the aristocracy work and the different types of Spheres?(Like how the wives work in different things like Naamah working on music, Eisheth her Temple ecc.)

Love your work♥️

hello and thank you! 🖤

sorry for late, but finally I gathered and translate all information you want!

royal duties

• Lucifer fulfills the classic role of ruler-guardian (he monitors the order of all lands and sometimes travels around them; however, in recent times it's much more common for guests to come to him rather than for Lucifer to leave own manor)

• his wives are in charge of global spheres: co-rulership, religion, war, arts

• roughly speaking, they are sort of like chief ministers who are actively involved in their duties

• Lilith helps with state affairs, Eisheth is in charge of temple management and spiritual practices, Agrat leads own cohort and commands the army of spirits and demons, Naamah organizes festivals and patronizes musical art

aristocracy

• Ars Goetia are in fact the greatest feudal mages, like tevinter magisters or evanuri in Dragon Age

• they borrowed titles from humans: demons have own words and definitions, but for convenience in communicating with mortals Ars Goetia uses something familiar since early Middle Ages

• in fact, the aristocracy in Sheol are younger gods/deities

• they are prayed to, worshipped, asked for help, and offered gifts (something connected with their spheres of patronization); kings and princes, in turn, protect their subjects and assist them

• for example, Sabnock is responsible for towers and fortresses, Crocell patronizes bathhouses, Ose is the lord of madness and sanity at the same time

• their spheres of influence sometimes overlap due to various aspects

• younger demons consider it an honor to serve them and to be their sacrificers; imps almost fight over the mere right to feed lord's dogs or sweep their yards

holidays and festivals

• once a year, during the period of greatest influence of one of the higher demons in the underworld, a fierce festival is organized

• of course, only after solemn ritual processions and temple services; the main celebration is held in the Eishet Zenunim's temple

• everyone is allowed to have fun together, sinners too ofc

• type of event depends on the Ars Goetia demon in whose honor it is held: there will be no mass heavy drinking at the festival in honor of Gaap (only beer!), for obvious reasons, and at Zepar' festival it's practically forbidden to come without a lover/spouse/just a couple

• when the festival is dedicated to one of warlord demons, like Agares, there's a big tournament

• tournaments participation is allowed for all, and death is considered an act of honor, like sacrificing oneself in the name of gods (if no one died, there was no tournament)

• no one looked on in amazement at count-governor Glasya-Labolas when he chose a fighter who had lost half of fights in a tournament, took into service and eventually made him his chief huntsman because this fighter tamed hellhounds: everyone was surprised with the fact that fighter was a young imp

• the most important person at these festivals is the king/prince/governor in whose honor they're held

• they also invite the best protégés of Goetia nobles (Velvette never misses an opportunity to go out in public when Ose wants to break his recluse)

• festivals are held alternately for each of the higher demons, over seventy years a complete cycle is formed

• also underworld celebrates temporary events on an ad hoc basis; it's usually timed to coincide with the end of some mass shitstorm like plague epidemic (finally those mortal assholes are getting sick and dying less often)

• the Governor's hunt in the forest of self-murderers is held when the constellation Sagittarius is at its most influential; count-governor Glacya-Labolas takes the lead of a big hunt

• during this holiday demons and imps hunt sinners who were turned into beasts during the process of decay

• don't forget about beginning and end of fertile season: yes, they live underground, but they have local harvest periods too

• cannibal town holds a mass feast every year after Extermination (hurray, a lot of meat)

• for obvious reasons Sheol don't celebrate human or christian holidays

• when Charlie was young, she was at one of the festivals, and prophet Camio told her that she would become a holy virgin goat-mother

• Charlie laughed for a long time

[velvetlilith777]

All is Fair in Love and Snowball Fights

Alex x GN Reader

Author's Note: Writing for Alex has been making me happier than I expected. He's such a cutie. I hope I was able to give all the Alex lovers a sweet little fic to get you through the holidays 🖤

Synopsis: You and Alex are deeply unserious. From fake tiffs to ways to fight it out, it's always an event. By the way, watch out.

CW: Sickeningly sweet fluff (perhaps even a smidge corny but I couldn't help it), brief and unserious name calling, brief mention of Jodi x Kent angst, marriage discussion, I think that's everything

Word Count: 1.5k

Dividers by: @adornedwithlight (snowflakes) and @enchanthings (hearts) 🖤

🎄Ficmas Masterlist!🎄

Fluff under the cut!

Knock, Knock, Knock.

The front door to the Mullner’s swings open revealing a tiny frame. Warm brown sugar and cinnamon wafts into the chilly air outside, while the sound of a gridball game playing way too loud on an old tv floods your ears.

“Oh, hi dear!” The old woman smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Hi, Granny Evelyn.” You grin back, always excited to see her. Evelyn had been the first person to make you feel welcome in the valley, and you always felt loved around her. It hadn't taken you long at all to start calling her “Granny” like she had suggested all the way back at your first meeting.

“Are you here to see Alex?”

“Not exclusively! I’m just here to see the Mullner’s,” you shake your head gently as a giggle leaves your throat.

“We always love to see you, honey. Although maybe soon you’ll be a Mullner yourself.” She covers her mouth and chuckles as your mouth falls open at her remark.

“Granny!!” You hushedly exclaim.

You hear the gridball game cut to commercial before a much taller figure walks to the door behind Evelyn.

“Granny, who’s there? Oh, hey babe!” Alex beams at you. “What were you guys talking about?” He questions, noticing the snickers you and Evelyn are still quietly exchanging.

“Nothing important, promise.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you but doesn't question any further.

Heading inside, you pop into the living room to say hi to George before leaving to the kitchen with Evelyn. A desperate attempt to avoid getting stuck watching the game for the second time this week.

“Come to help, dear?” Evelyn questions over her shoulder while washing her hands with cider scented soap.

“Of course! Always love to bake with you.” You lower your voice before continuing. “And I don't love watching gridball.”

You follow up your admission with a wink and the two of you giggle in agreement.

“We’ll be making cookies to drop off for Jodi. She’s been having a hard time with Kent gone. I thought maybe it would bring her and those boys a little bit of joy.” She explains.

It had been noticeable even for a newer resident such as yourself that Jodi had been struggling this holiday season, but had been trying her best to keep going for Sam and Vincent. You hoped even a small gesture such as this would make her truly smile, if only for a moment.

The time you’d been spending with Evelyn in the kitchen was evident as the pair of you began working. Expertly whipping up a perfect batch of sugar cookies and icing for decoration.

As you’re chatting and carefully frosting the gift, a hand inches its way to the plate of finished cookies in front of you.

“Uh-uh. Back away.” Your voice is stern despite the smirk finding the corners of your lips.

“Told you it wouldn't work, Gramps.” Alex shouts to the living room.

“Darn. A man can’t even get a cookie in his own house!” He scoffs, wheeling his chair into the kitchen.

“Those cookies aren't for you, George. You know Jodi needs a pick me up.” Evelyn reminds her husband.

The elderly man huffs, before taking a breath to argue his point.

“And we always make you cookies,” You cut in. “Is your husband away at war?”

Evelyn continues to tell George off while he mutters about not getting his way.

Alex wraps his arms around you from behind. “Hey, wanna go for a walk?” He mumbles, breath ghosting your ear.

You smile back at him and nod.

The two of you head out into the crisp winter air. Small flurries whirl around your heads before settling into the powdery ground below. You stroll through the town hand in hand, taking in the festive lights adorning the buildings and fresh air.

“So, what were you guys really talking about?” Alex breaks the silence.

“I thought you’d forget that by now.” You huff out a laugh, reminiscing on Evelyn’s playful comment.

“You had that cute look on your face when something shocks you,” He muses. “I wasn't going to forget that.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, adding to the flush the chill air has already adorned you with.

“It really wasn’t anything important, just Granny hinting at marriage - again.” A playful smirk graces your lips as you lock eyes with him.

He lets out a groan that morphs into a laugh, throwing his head back.

“She didn't really mention that to you again? She needs to calm down.”

“What? Is the thought of being married to me so bad?” You let out a dramatic gasp.

“No, no. You know it's not that.” He shoves a hand in his pocket and tilts his head at you. “But she brings it up like twice a week now, and we’ve been together less than a year.”

“No, it's okay, I know what you meant.” It’s a full blown, poorly executed performance now. Fake sniffles leaving your nose, the back of your arm covering your eyes. “It's fine. I wouldn't want to marry me either.”

Alex rolls his eyes and gently grabs your shoulder. “Okay, okay. You know I want to marry you. You know you mean everything to me.”

“Yeah, yeah sure. You're totally not just keeping me around until someone better comes.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him.

Suddenly, a patch of cold hits the center of your back. You spin around on your heel to see your boyfriend dusting the remnants of snow off on his hands as he smirks at you.

“D-did you just throw a snowball at me?” You narrowed your eyes and cocked an eyebrow at him in confusion, having not realized that was even an option of conversation.

He shrugs, “well if you want to act silly then I just thought I’d act silly too.”

You scoff out a laugh, before kneeling down to gather snow in your own hands.

“You're gonna regret that, Mullner.” Your tone is low and calm, it would almost be intimidating if this wasn't fresh snow we were talking about.

You shoot back to your feet, packing a tight ball in your hands. Alex laughs and turns to retreat farther, but is unable to escape being pelted as you lob the snowball at his cheek.

“Oh so it's a war you want.” A menacing laugh escapes his lips, scooping up more powder from

the untouched blanket.

You mimic his efforts, both hurling rounded lumps of snow at each other in unison before frantically packing the next one. Hit after hit is being thrown and taken in both directions.

There comes a moment when you both begin taking it incredibly seriously, acting as if you're on the frontlines of the most unserious battle a history book could dream of. Ducking and hiding behind trees and structures, plotting sneak attacks and rolling to dodge a precisely aimed orb. Alex even trying to snipe you once by climbing into a nearby tree.

Neither of you plan on losing. So when Alex drops to the ground after you hit him seemingly too hard in the stomach, you panic. You wanted to win, never actually hurt him.

Snow kicks out from under your feet as you rush to his side.

“Alex! Are you good?” Your brows knit together as you kneel down next to the brunette.

Suddenly, your back is against the soft, white ground. Your shoulders are pinned to the ground by a larger figure, one you were just concerned about.

“Gotcha,” his smirk is a little too big for your liking, considering he just cheated.

“I thought I hurt you! Jerk.” Your eyes narrow and look to the side, bottom lip jutting out in a pout that presses angrily on your love's heart.

“Babe, I was just joking. I’m sorry for scarin’ ya.” He gives off a sympathetic smile.

Unbeknownst to Alex, however, you were gathering as much snow as you could in your hand, plotting your payback. Sneaking your hand behind his back, you move suddenly and quickly to shove the handful of powder down the neck of his shirt.

“Aaugh!” He yelps, leaping to his feet. Shimmying in an attempt to get the cold away from his warm skin, he turns to glare daggers at you.

“Payback!” Giggles fall from your lips at your boyfriend's dance in search of comfort.

But as cute as you are, as much as the athlete’s heart swells at your perception of victory, he’s not going down that easily. Actually, you are.

A two second glimpse of a smirk is all you're afforded before Alex is barreling at you, tackling you gridball style (if only a bit more gentle) taking you to the ground with a muffled thud. You let out a squeal, brain unable to fully process the event before the man on top of you is assaulting you with kisses. Peppering your face and neck, earning an onslaught of giggles for him to bask in, one of his favorite sounds.

“Okay, truce!” You breathlessly yell, ribs feeling as if they’re on fire from laughter.

His attack ceases, eyes gleaming with adoration down on you.

“Love you, more than anything else. Remember that.” He grins before capturing your lips, stealing a soft, lingering kiss.

“I love you too, Mullner.” Escapes your tongue as a mere whisper.

All of this havoc despite the small, velvet box hiding behind an uninteresting book on his shelf.

[leejenowrld]

Sophieee!!!

In a world where everybody dreams of chasing the glow of a superficial spotlight, two luminaries find solace in one another’s natural light.

Goodreads and Letterboxd have never known the likes of me— because I don't have either accounts. But I do have a Tumblr, and that means I can deliver on my promise to write you the most deranged love letter Love Me Back will ever see. I've reblogged the masterlist with my thoughts included!

All that writing got me wondering, since the holidays are approaching quick, what does the first Christmas look like with the Love Me Back characters at Mark and Nabi's apartment?

i saw it baby 🖤🥺 so eternally thankful for you and i can’t wait to respond. here you go. i hope you enjoy :)

love me back — a christmas drabble. 900 words

mark’s and nabi’s apartment feels impossibly full—in the best way. the glow of warm fairy lights wraps around the walls, intertwined with a haphazard mix of garland and mismatched baubles. the tree sits proudly in the corner, slightly crooked but covered in ornaments, some sparkling and others laughably homemade. a faint scent of pine lingers from a fresh wreath hung on the front door, but it’s overpowered by the sugary smell of cookies baking in the oven. mark had insisted on the cookies, though half of them are still stuck to the tray because he refused to use parchment paper.

the coffee table is covered in mugs of hot chocolate, some nearly empty, marshmallows melting into sticky puddles at the bottom. chenle had gone overboard, of course, dumping so much whipped cream onto his that it toppled onto the floor, which ningning pointed out with her signature deadpan, “congratulations, you’ve created a sticky trap for ants.”

donghyuck is sprawled across the couch, loudly critiquing home alone as it plays on the tv, claiming he could have “easily outsmarted those burglars.” chenle, who’s sitting on the floor tangled in a mess of christmas lights for the second time tonight, rolls his eyes so hard you’re surprised they don’t fall out of his head. “we get it, hyuck. you’re a genius. now shut up and help me before i strangle myself.”

karina and winter sit cross-legged in front of the tree, meticulously sorting the gift pile by size, color, and what winter calls, “vibe.” karina, with her meticulous precision, decides the blue wrapping paper is “offensive to the aesthetic,” and tosses a small box across the room to donghyuck, who catches it without looking and sets it on his stomach. ningning, leaning against the arm of the couch, sips her hot chocolate with a smug smile, clearly enjoying the chaos.

the apartment itself looks like christmas exploded. every surface is covered—tinsel wrapped around the banisters, tiny santa figurines sitting on the windowsill, and stockings that are very obviously new (chenle had complained loudly that mark didn’t have “proper christmas spirit” for not owning any). there’s even mistletoe hanging in the doorway, which had resulted in a lot of teasing and a very flustered ningning and chenle when winter had pointed it out earlier.

you’re perched on the rug near the tree, nestled into the corner where the heat from the radiator makes everything feel extra cozy. the soft glow of the fairy lights makes the space feel smaller, warmer, like it belongs to just the two of you. mark is nearby, sitting on the floor with his long legs stretched out, a throw blanket draped loosely over his lap. every so often, his fingers reach out, brushing against your arm and smiling at you every so often.

you shift slightly, leaning into his touch as you tilt your head to press a soft kiss to his lips. it’s unhurried, warm, and when you pull back, you barely whisper, “i love you.” the words feel bigger in this moment, surrounded by the hum of christmas, the muted laughter of your friends, the faint cinnamon scent lingering in the air. you glance at him, his face softened in the glow of the tree lights, and add quietly, “you know, this is our fourth christmas together. fourth out of a lifetime.”

his smile widens, soft and adoring, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “yeah?” he murmurs, his voice low.

he murmurs, his voice low. you nod, your chest swelling with affection. “and every one feels better than the last,” you add, your voice barely audible but full of sincerity. his hand tightens around yours, his gaze locked on you like you’re the only thing in the room that matters.

his lips twitch into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges as his hand slips into yours, his thumb tracing idle circles over your skin. for a moment, it’s just the two of you, the rest of the room fading into the background.

but then, quietly, you mumble, “i really miss jeno. i wish he would’ve come.”

his hand tightens gently around yours, and he sighs, his expression shifting into something heavier. “same,” he admits softly. “we’ll see him soon.” his words are reassuring, his tone steady, but it doesn’t stop the sadness from tugging at your chest.

your gaze flicks to nabi standing against the counter, her smile wide as she chats with shotaro. they’re standing close, their hands busy as they prep the christmas dinner—shotaro’s slicing up a loaf of bread while nabi carefully arranges garnishes on the platter next to him. they laugh over something you can’t hear, but the warmth between them is palpable. and yet, there’s a flicker of something unspoken inside you, a tightness in your throat you can’t quite swallow. it’s anger, maybe frustration, but it simmers quietly under the surface.

mark’s lips brush the shell of your ear, his voice a low murmur, “let it go, baby..” the quiet intimacy of his words grounds you, pulling you back from the edge. you exhale deeply, letting the tension slip from your shoulders, and turn your head to kiss him again. this time, it’s softer, slower, a silent promise that you’ll try.

and with mark’s hand warm in yours, his presence steady and certain, it’s a little easier to let go.

ningning eventually pulls out a bottle of wine, smirking as she pours it into her mug instead of the hot chocolate. “what?” she says innocently when karina gives her a pointed look. “it’s festive.”

the sounds of laughter mix with the soft hum of christmas music playing low in the background. the dvd menu for elf loops endlessly after someone forgot to hit play, and no one has the energy to get up and change it. chenle, still fighting with the lights, looks like he’s given up entirely when winter offers to untangle them for him. “finally, someone competent,” he mutters, only to get a sharp jab in the ribs from karina.

gifts are slowly passed around, and it’s a mix of heartfelt and absurd. chenle gets a framed photo of his infamous whipped cream hot chocolate disaster, courtesy of mark, while donghyuck receives a handmade coupon book of “free insults” from ningning, which he accepts like it’s a priceless heirloom. karina opens a carefully wrapped bottle of perfume from winter, her expression softening in a way that almost makes the room fall silent. almost.

the night stretches on, the warmth of the apartment seeping into every corner, into everyone’s smiles and lingering touches. there’s a certain intimacy to the chaos—a shared feeling of belonging that makes the space feel like home, even to those who don’t live there. christmas isn’t perfect, and neither are any of you, but somehow, that’s what makes it all feel so right.

[livealittleoc-cb]

Small Hearts Month Update!

♥️: IT’S MY MONTH! I’M SO READY FOR WELL EVERYTHING! *squeals* I can’t wait to see people fall in love *dreamy sigh* I just love well love! 🥰 I’ve decorated but I need need need new decorations! I saw really cute mugs and I think they’ll look so cute in my collection, there’s little Snoopy mugs and heart shaped bowls and plates! Also kitchen towels with hearts on them! EEE I NEED ALL OF IT! ^^ Are you excited for Valentine’s Day?

💘: Snow, Valentine’s Day AND Mardi Gras being the day before Valentine’s?! This is literally the best month EVER! *squeals* i decorated with roses, it’s slowly coming together 🥰 I can’t believe I almost forgot about Mardi Gras, I’ve been so busy preparing for hearts day. Mama gave me a call though and I’m going over to cel with her! This will be the step dad’s first official Mardi Gras so we’re going all out! …I just hope I don’t get too tired for actual work-. I’ll deal with it when it comes!~ 🥰 Anyways! I need to get my nails done for both holidays and it’s where I’m heading off to! Apollo gave me an early Val’s gift too, a flask and it’s so pretty.~ Please don’t tell Eros I have it…he’ll kill me and Apollo-. *smiles big* Do you have a Valentine? If you don’t I don’t mind pulling some strings and shooting some arrows!~

❣️: I hate this month-. I want to stay warm in my bed but I can’t because I have a Valentine’s themed Dior perfume shoot. *gorans* I just don’t want to get up, I have double the work this year but I guess I can’t be all that mad. I have the chance to make other people happy on a day they find special. *shrugs* I should get up soon, I have to head to the studio soon. If anyone needs any date ideas or places to go for V Day ask away and I’ll try my best to help.

🩵🩵: @monsterhigh-cb [🐟🤍💍 && ⚡💙 && 👻💜 && 🐺💕 && 🎤💖 && 👑💛] @evicted-oc [☕️🤎 && 🐼🖤 && 🔦💛 && 🧊🩵 && 💄🖤 && 🏴‍☠️🤍] @theinvitation-bot [🐭🩶💒] @welcome-to-maniac [🐇🖤 💍 && 🌻❤️ && 🌕❤️‍🔥 && 🐿️❣️ && 🐉🩶] @fantasyaespa [🐈 💚💍 && ☀️🩵💍] @k-venturetime [🍓❣️] @multi-joong [🌧️🧡💍 && 🎨💚] @kardpackcb [🌙💝 && 🐺❤️‍🔥] @lavienrosecabaretxo [👑🖤] @obsession-cb [🍰🖤] @clubwnderland [💃❤️‍🔥]

possible new residents: @faywithlove @badbf-cb @domxbot @welcometosector1 @lunaaofthemoon @reve-rv @multi-esme @the-hellhounds @oppositesattraxt @domrachaa @hwangsiblings-oc @coffeexdreamcb @silcntxnight @moonlightchn @blogger-yura @thesugaredalchemists @folklore-cb @doom-bc @hearthstone-apothecary @redlight-cb @inferno-cb @darkloversxcb @9ateez-multiau-bot @mxthxbot @mirage-ocs @raiden-oc @jinju-oc @fntsybot @adminhoney @crimson-l @themanor-cb [DM + / -]

[thecowboykatsuki-anon]

Merry Christmas, here’s some dad! Wild West! Bakugou as a holiday gift 🖤

——————————————————————-

At first, you’re not sure what stirred you from sleep, turning in your bed to glance over at your husband.

He’s still asleep, his blonde lashes fluttering and his lips parted in a small pout, and you can feel butterflies take flight in your stomach when you look at him in the early morning light filtering through the curtains.

Your attention is drawn from him as you hear shifting outside of your door, followed by the sound of hushed giggles and whispering. Your children are trying their best to be quiet, but excitement on Christmas morning is winning out and you know it won’t be too long until they’re sneaking in to rouse you and Katsuki.

You pause to listen to them, your 7 year old daughter trying to convince her younger brother to be the one to break the peace, and you can picture her now, blonde hair wild from sleep as she waves her hands about.

She’s the spitting image of Katsuki (with her father’s temperment to match), and her younger brother would follow her into any sort of trouble she could think up. Your son looks more like you, his personality quieter, but no less stubborn, often standing his ground when he shouldn’t.

You smile to yourself, turning fully to Katsuki now, a hand falling on his chest to stir him. You shift closer, pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder, his collarbone, his throat, until his eyes are peeling open to peek at you.

“Merry Christmas,” you murmur into his skin, and he sighs softly, humming in agreement. One of his hands shifts, slipping under your nightgown to find purchase on your bare bottom, squeezing gently.

“Mornin’” he drawls, eyes closing again as he sighs in content, your hand rubbing circles on his chest. You lay your head down on his shoulder and he shifts, settling you firmly between his collar and jaw.

“Your children are awake,” you inform him. “Your daughter is too smart for her own good. She’s slowly convincing her brother it’s his idea to be the one to wake us.”

He laughs at that, a soft proud noise. “My children, huh? Didn’t realize you had no hand in that,”

You nod, playing into his game. “When they’re scheming, they’re your children.” He laughs again, lips pressing into the crown of your head.

“Can’t help that they’ve got their mother’s sharp mind,” he flatters, that hand beneath your gown giving another squeeze, this time on your thigh as it shifts.

It’s your turn to laugh now, twisting to glance up at him. “Says the man tryin’ to sweeten me up for his own benefit,” you tease.

He smiles guiltily at that, eyes opening once more to land on you. “Can’t help that I’m thinkin’ the best Christmas gift would be another one of those brats.”

He watches you flush at that, mouth parting in surprise and he laughs, the sound triggering the children on the other side of the door to open it, dragging his attention from you as he greets them warmly.

You watch him then, the gentle way he looks at them, smiles at them. It’s a look he’s reserved specially for them, a look that first appeared when your daughter was born in the middle of a storm, lightning flashing outside your window as your husband cradled her so delicately in his hands.

It’s a look of wonder, you’ve come to realize. Like he can’t believe something so perfect could belong to him, be a part of him.

You smile softly as they climb onto the bed with you, your son wiggling his way between you and Katsuki to tug at his father, your daughter on the other side.

Katsuki gently scolds his son for jostling you, but there’s no real malice in his voice, especially when your son leans over and pecks you on the forehead with a soft apology.

Katsuki’s quick to scoop the both of them up as he pulls himself from bed, your children shrieking in joy as he throws them over a shoulder each, muscles rippling beneath tanned skin.

He notices your stare and quirks a brow teasingly, a hand on either of his children to stabilize them as he leans over to capture your mouth is a kiss that’s a little too long, a little less chaste than your children would like, given their screams of disgust.

You laugh as he carries them out of your bedroom, your wooden floors freaking beneath him and the dog barking at the sight as he comes down the stairs.

It’s the sound of all three of them laughing together that finally convinces you, although you do admit to yourself it wasn’t all that hard.

You’d happily give him another one.

Or two.

[nekoannie-chan]

Week 2 Reblog Masterlist

Welcome to Week 2 2024 or Week 210, as always, fics would be listed in the order I read them.

I hope you enjoy it!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

♥ You can check my reading guidelines here.

♥ You can check my masterlist here.

♥ You can check my main reblog masterlist 2024 here.

♥ You can check my January reblog masterlist 2024 here.

♥ You can check Week 1 2024 here.

♥ You can check Week 3 2024 here.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

𝙺𝚎𝚢𝚜: 💛 ᵒʳᶤᵍᶤᶰᵃˡ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ

💜 ʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ

🖤 ᵈᵃʳᵏ

❤️ ˢᵐᵘᵗ

💚 ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ

💙 ᵃᶰᵍˢᵗ

🧡 ᶜᵒᵐᵉᵈʸ

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

This is the list of the fics I read and recommend in Week 2 2024:

Day 31: Dilf and filth (Stucky X Reader) by @1-800-jjbarnes❤️

I know where I belong part 6 (Steve Rogers X Reader, Bucky Barnes X Reader) by @sosa2imagines💚

Size difference (Coriolanus Snow X Reader) by @princessbellecerise❤️

Dangerous places part 9 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @kaunis-sielu 💚 💙

Gumball machine (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @bingbongsupremacy 💚

Gag gift part 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @tuiccim ❤️

In my heart is a Christmas tree farm (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @marvelobsessed134 💚

Dancing in the rain (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @bloomingpaper 💚

The fate of a fae part 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader, Bucky Barnes X Reader) by @mrs-barnes-rogers-writes 💚

Drip (Stucky X Reader) by @biteofcherry ❤️

Gag gift part 2 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @tuiccim ❤️

Day 8 old Christmas record (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms💚

Steve fic (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @cevansbaby-dove❤️

Ten steps ahead (Stucky X Reader) by @bugclot❤️

Underneath the tree (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @nicestgirlonline❤️

Green paint (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @imtryingbuck💚

Steve fic (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @paperweight91 ❤️ 🖤

Holiday blues (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove 💚 💙

I call my mom she said that it was for the best (Damian Wayne X Reader) by @youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms 💚

Unshielded affection (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @vilentia 💚 💙

A snowflake melts part 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @georgiapeach30513 💚

For breakfast and for you (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @astyrial 💚

Happy, once again (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @hansensgirl ❤️ 🖤

Afternoon cuddles (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @lives-in-midgard💚

In your eyes (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @pomelo-villano ❤️

Milk and cookies (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sergeantbarnessdoll 💚

I knew you’d come back to me (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @steveshaped💚 💙

Day 5: forever yours (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @nicoline1998enilocin💚

[averageanonymous]

Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley have agreed that they won't buy each other gifts for frivolous human holidays. That certainly isn't going to stop them, though.

i.e. Brief Valentine's Day Fluff 🖤🤍

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Aziraphale could feel it. This was the one. Settled in a corner, surrounded by arrangements that were full of pink hearts and red balloons, it alone was unadorned. It didn't need any embellishment. The plant was gorgeous. A large, well-established Monstera deliciosa, also known by the name “Thai Constellation” Monstera. They were popular, but this particular variation was quite rare. Its enormous fenestrated leaves, spackled with white and yellow variegation, were full of life, lush, and verdant. Aziraphale had only the most basic experience in caring for houseplants, but he could recognize a beautiful specimen when he saw one. And this one was nothing less than perfect. 

He eagerly made his purchase, and then, upon exiting the nursery with it on a cart (to "take to his car," naturally) he surreptitiously miracled it straight to the bookshop, returned the cart, and began the walk back home. 

His mind wandered as he walked. He thought he had some black and silver ribbon in the back of the shop. He might tie a nice bow around the Monstera’s pot. Or perhaps that would be too much. Maybe somewhat too obvious a gesture. Best to keep it simple. A nice surprise (Oh, my dear, I just happened to wander by a nursery, I spied it through the window, it was nothing, really, didn't even have to go out of my way…) to complement a lovely glass of wine at the bookshop (one of his finer vintages, the ones he kept in the cabinet up in his room) after they went out for a splendid dinner (at the Ritz, of course) and had a quiet stroll through the park (nothing like a casual moonlit stroll to settle a full stomach). 

Aziraphale smiled to himself. He felt almost giddy. There was a fluttering in his middle, what he thought humans referred to cleverly as butterflies in the stomach. He wouldn't think that after literally thousands of years that going out for an evening with Crowley could affect him in such a way. Yet here he was. 

He reached the bookshop. A quick change into his evening attire, a check on the certainly-not-a-Valentine’s-gift Monstera, and he'd be off to the Ritz to meet up with Crowley. He took the steps with a skip, opening the door with a joyful flourish. And froze.

The Monstera had made it to the bookshop just fine. It sat, lovely green shining in the late afternoon sunbeams that filtered through the windows. And standing there, staring at it wide-eyed, was Crowley. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale cried in alarm, “You were- I thought- Well, you- Ahm,” he trailed off, wringing his hands slightly, and finished weakly, “Weren't we supposed to meet at the restaurant?” 

Crowley gaped at him. Gaped at the plant. Looked between them several times. Then crossed the room in three determined strides and pulled Aziraphale into a crushing embrace. 

“No gifts, angel,” Crowley growled into Aziraphale’s shoulder, arms squeezing him until his lungs began to protest. “That's what we agreed. No. Bloody. Gifts.” 

“Oh, this isn't a gift,” Aziraphale wheezed, “I just…happened…by…” 

Crowley released Aziraphale just enough to let him breathe properly. Aziraphale looked up at him, feeling his face warm under Crowley's bright gaze. “Do you…like it?” Aziraphale asked hesitantly. 

“She's gorgeous,” Crowley said with a shake of his head. He set a hand on Aziraphale’s cheek, and Aziraphale leaned into it, turning just enough to press a kiss to the Demon's palm.

“Incorrigible angel,” Crowley muttered softly, “you just can't help yourself, can you?” 

Aziraphale chuckled, “Old habits, I suppose.” 

Crowley rolled his eyes, pulled Aziraphale back into his arms, and pressed a kiss to his lips that promised more later. 

“Come on, then,” Crowley finally said when they drew apart, both a little flushed and out of breath, “The Ritz won't wait forever.” Then he took the angel's hand in his and dragged him out of the bookshop to the Bentley. 

He opened the door for Aziraphale and Aziraphale was about to thank him when he noticed a black box on the seat. It was a few inches deep and around six inches long. He leaned in and took it, raising an eyebrow at Crowley as he straightened. 

“No gifts, hm?” Aziraphale said coyly. He lifted the lid. The smell of chocolate wafted out.

“It barely counts,” Crowley huffed as Aziraphale lifted the small stack of artisan chocolate bars from the box. Each was wrapped in thick, beautifully designed paper with detailed descriptions of the origin of the ingredients, the flavors that could be detected in each bar, the journey those ingredients took to become the precious ounces of chocolate in his hands. Crowley would have had to search for these chocolate bars. They were practically art themselves. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed, “You're far too good to me.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Crowley huffed, a smile tugging at his lips. “Will you please get in so we can go, angel.” 

So Aziraphale did, gently placing the chocolate back in its box, and laying it in the back seat so he was free to reach across and take Crowley's hand in his, lacing their fingers together. The butterflies fluttered pleasantly in his stomach. His heart beat a joyful rhythm in his chest. Aziraphale sighed contentedly. It was going to be a wonderful night. 

-----

Thanks for reading! Happy Valentine's Day!

[at1nys-blog]

Can you do some Deidara headcanons? 🖤

Sure thing anon🖤 hope you like this, also this is very random because the more I wrote the more ideas came to mind (pretty sure this is modernAU headcanons but that is what came to mind first)

Deidara’s Headcanons

Deidara strikes me as an annoying type of guy

As in he would always tell people that what he does is the best

His ideas are better

And so on

People don’t like him

His friends barely can stand him this is why he has few friends

He is artistic and he knows he is very good at what he does

Has every social media platform in existence where he shares his art

His favorite is Twitter (X)

Because there is where the “haters” interact with his posts the most

He laughs at them most of the times

Some other he just gets very angry and insult them

Heavily

Like his accounts have been suspended a couple of times or shut down

He insults people a lot in the real world too

Not for fun though

He would when they deserve it and he would be so mean

He KNOWS how to dress

Some of his clothes are customized by him

Or hand made from him sometimes

He is a good driver (both car and motorcycle)

Would go fast when alone

But if someone asked him to go slower he would try his best to do so (still speed here and there)

He has a pretty calligraphy

His family and friends would ask him to write letters for holidays and such

Not that much jealous. And if he gets jealous he would just stop talking because he is upset

In a relationship he needs someone opposite of him

Someone calm and chill but that isn’t afraid to call him out on his bullshit

He would be annoyed but doesn’t talk back

He is a yapper, so he would like someone that would listen and doesn’t tend to cut him off

He will be himself no matter what

Outside the house

Inside?

He would be less annoying

And probably would take the time to listen to his partner more

His love language is words of affirmation

He wants to be complimented a lot

Might indulge in his partner love language but he is subtle about it

Partner has words of affirmation as love language? Compliments them but adds a little “stupid” or something like that

Quality of time? Hangs out with them doing grocery but always complains when they can get home

(Is kinda funny to see him complaining)

Acts of service? Will help around the house when they aren’t around

Might say he wasn’t at home at all so this is why the house is clean

Gift giving? He would buy something from nowhere and casually giving it to them

Physical touch? If it is outside simple holding hands is what his partner will get

But at home he will give them light touched here and there and let them hug him more

He likes to collect pretty things

He needs them? No. Does he buy them regardless? Yes

BIG on skin care

Will not skip a day

Will force/remember his partner to do the same

Also has a very strict hair care routine.

He smells of citrus fruits

He uses hands cream (orange or lemon or a mix of citrus fruits)

He knows how to cook, nothing too fancy but he can cook

He is good at managing his money

He likes sparkling water

He is a cocktail type of guy but doesn’t refuse a beer or some wine

He doesn’t like anything too complicated or extravagant but will try it on special occasions

He likes to listen to music. More as a background sound so he actually doesn’t know almost any lyrics (if not for his favorite artists)

Might be into rap

Hates trap music

But he listen to it sometimes to see if there is something good coming out of it (he is surprised when he finds something he likes and that is objectively good)

His room? Chaotic. Paints, brushes, canvas, DIY tools and what’s not all over the place

And he has never the time or the energies to put everything in order

A lot of unfinished projects.

He likes to use a projector to watch things (movies/tv shows/ YouTube videos…)

Holidays with him? Drama filled

And he lives for being the one creating drama

For New Year do NOT invite him because he would take over the original plan and rearrange it with something *cofcof*everything*cofcof* he would like to do.