#i hope these help! i wish i could give you more

[minnies-puppydoll]

thinking abt skz x hybrid puppygirl reader…

puppy being so so worked up in the middle of the night. it isnt her heat, but she needs to be filled so bad it hurts.

puppy walking to minho’s room, where she finds minho wide awake, already playing with their other puppy, seungmin. hyunjin is sleeping beside them, only half awake and still dozing off.

minho lets seungmin hump himself in minho’s hand. seungmin whines and pleads quietly, trying not to wake anybody. hyunjin is obviously used to this.

puppy watches from the doorway, squeezing her thighs and whining, wanting to join so bad but dumb puppy can’t use her words right. minho looks at her with an evil, knowing smile, purposely now jerking minnie off so you could hear the slick, wet sounds of his pleasure.

“aw. does puppy need to be filled up? puppy wants my cock?”

his teasing words made you ache so much worse, shifting your hips for any friction at all.

“mm, looks like she does. sorry puppy, im already sooo occupied with this one here..look at his face pup.”

minho tightens his grip around seungmin’s cock, stopping sometimes to swirl his thumb around minnie’s sensitive tip. seungmin writhes and grips onto minhos shoulders, muffling his little cries and moans in minho’s neck.

“look at him. you wish this was you? oh, puppy feels so good right now, he’s gonna cum. you wanna see puppy pop a knot right here?”

you actually couldn’t take it anymore. it physically hurt that you were empty right now. his mords and actions are so mean and unfair. thats when you spot hyunjin out of the corner of your eye, still half asleep next to the puppy madness.

“hyunjinnie, please i can’t take it anymore.” you slurred, rushing to his side on your knees. his head was hanging off the bed, now looking at you. he chuckles a little under his breath at the fact that you gave up on minho. but, he makes no move to help you.

you whine desperately as you move your face to the crook of his neck, placing little kitten licks on it. you hear a startled moan from hyunjin, he groans a little when you stop, sitting up and really observing how desperate you are.

you’re dripping at this point. making a tiny mess on the carpet where you are propped up on your knees, hands pawing at the edge of the matress, and posture so upright and obedient. like a good dog.

“please please hyunjin. please fuck me.” you whine, your tail wagging in hopes he’ll cave.

…

soon, he’s giving you exactly what you want. sliding into your slick pussy and pounding into you as deep as he can go. loud moans fill the room, you can’t think about others right now. you’re being fucked so good, all you can think about is his cock.

he always filled you so nicely. his cock is quite long with more of an average thickness. always had you bouncing and babbling on it like a slut.

hyune flipped you over and grabbed your tail, pulling on it while he fucked you even faster from behind. letting you cum around him a good amount of times before you all fall asleep together.

[xo-adeline]

"To change for you..."

⋆°• ☁︎ - Things the Blue Lock boys do after picking it up from you Feat. Michael Kaiser, Isagi Yoichi, Nagi Seishiro, Shidou Ryusei, and Rin Itoshi

AN: I have the freaking cutest idea for a Wakasuki fanfic but nobody knows him and it's so sad...

Michael Kaiser ⋆°• ☁︎ - Listening to certain songs that he knows you like when he’s traveling

He never realized that he would have missed you this much when he was traveling. For the few months that he was still back in Germany with you, the thoughts of traveling had crossed his mind many times, and with a scoff and the thoughts that he used to do it alone all the time pushed the ideas to the back of his brain, well until now; Now when he was sitting on the Bastard München bus on the way to the PXG stadium for their next match, the long, almost 14-hour, bus ride they had, and every second since he had been on that bus, he missed you. Not that he would ever admit that to anybody, including you. So what better way than to either A. attempt to text you, But that sounded desperate, or B. do something that reminded him of you. And with his limited options, he scrolled his phone to find something that could bring him back to the thought of you, even if you weren’t there with him. To which that’s when he found it. A couple of weeks ago you had stolen his phone, saying that you were just looking at the weather, but rather, you knew he had a Spotify account and only listened to the songs he wanted to, so you put together a playlist for him of some songs you think he should listen to, including some of your favorites. He couldn’t help but give a little smile when he saw the playlist cover being a picture of the two of you at one of his previous games, and within no time he pressed the play button and started to listen through the songs, thoughts of you running through his head matching up with every song lyric.

Isagi Yoichi ⋆°• ☁︎ - Using more creative insults on the field after you used them against him

It all started a couple weeks after you had started dating and you got into a little spat about where to go for dinner, him trying to be nice and let you decide and you being indecisive and pushing it back on him. All going relatively nicely until you turned around and said:

“You decide, you wet noodle! I can’t pick.”

And he stood there for a second, a little surprised. A wet noodle? That wasn’t something you heard every day. So he let out a slight chuckled and picked a place he knew you would like and the two of you went there for dinner that night. The same thing with a couple other insults had happened a few times, being called a multitude of other things, and even hearing you’d snide comments sometimes about how you hoped that a person that cut you off in traffic ‘stepped into a puddle with only socks on.’

Now with these thoughts inside his head, and Barou running his mouth he could only turn towards him and give a dirty glare before pulling this out of his pocket:

“I hope you’re sleeves slide down while you’re washing your hands.”

Before turning back around and heading anywhere else in the building where he wasn’t. To which the rest of the people standing there could only look surprised, the same guy who called Barou much worse, just wished a minor inconvenience on him? What was happening?

Nagi Seishiro ⋆°• ☁︎ - Showing a little more effort rather than just in scoring goals

Reo could only look confused at the white-haired man as he was actually trying on some of the new training regiments given to them by Chris Prince. Even when he looked over to the coach, he looked a little shocked. It wasn’t that Nagi didn’t try, it’s that he had never tried this hard before. He did everything just enough for it to be acceptable and then move on with his life, well that was until he saw how hard you worked for things. He never understood why people worked hard until you had come home with a good grade on your test, the same test he had watched you work for hours and hours trying to study the material and cram into your head before you had to take it. The way that you smiled and were so excited that the work you did paid off gave him this spark of inspiration that he needed to see what it was like to train hard and then have that achievement pay off in the end. So when he went back to practice, he tried harder than he ever did before, even earning a couple comments asking if he was okay, or if he was dying and trying a little harder was his dying wish. All of which he responded a simple ‘no’ to before walking off to get water or work on something else. The only person who could actually figure out the truth was Reo, who had asked him if it had something to do with you. He just shrugged and nodded.

“They came home all happy one time because they studied hard and got a good grade and I wanted to know what that felt like… They clung onto me for a whole 15 minutes after… and I liked it so maybe If I do good I can do that to them..”

Reo could only laugh a little as he watched Nagi walk away. He would definitely have to send you a thank you card, Chris Prince’s signature in there as well as he had tried to ask Nagi the same question and it totally backfired.

Shidou Ryusei ⋆°• ☁︎ - Trying to settle arguments with words instead of his foot

The famous fighter, Shidou Ryusei, was actually trying to have a conversation. Nobody ever thought there would be a day. Well, except for one person, you. The same person who had told him off a multitude of times that he can’t just hurt people whenever he was pissed off at them, and there were much better ways to go about it. Even after days of him trying to get you to see his side of it, and you already, after hearing his explanation a few weeks ago, deeming it not the best way to settle things. So here he was now, putting his ego aside to make sure that Loki or Ego didn’t have to call you for the 4th time this week to try to get him to behave and attempt to try to not kick Rin square in the face after he stole a goal from him. Even Loki was surprised when Shidou was about to raise his foot, just to stop himself, mutter something, and then turn to Rin, attempting to try and talk it out. The first thought in everybody's mind, was this even Shidou? After Rin had walked away from him Loki came jogging over to him and trying to make sure he was okay.

“Ya’ I’m fine, jus’ the pretty thing back home ya’ always have to call told me to get my shit together, so I’m tryin’ talk it out with lower lashes.”

Loki looked surprised, I mean he knew from talking to you before that you were close with Shidou, but little did he know that you basically had the man wrapped around you’re finger. They’ve been trying to get him to talk something out for the entire time he was in Blue Lock, but he leaves for a few days and comes back a whole new person? The staff would be sending you thank you cards, as well as a small gift instead of having to pay the hospital bills from anybody else Shidou would’ve sent.

Rin Itoshi ⋆°• ☁︎ - Trying to be a little nicer to others

The world must have stopped turning and we were all gonna die. That was the only thing Isagi could think after he heard Rin actually complimenting somebody. Was it a backhanded compliment? Absolutely, but did he still say something nice to Nanase, yes. Isagi could only stare in shock as he walked over to him next, ready to be degraded or ignored for anything he did, until Rin stopped, cursing under his breath.

“You’re a shitty person, but at least you can score a decent goal..”

The world stopped, he was sure of it. There was no way the Rin Itoshi, had just come up to him and told him he could score a decent goal. So when he stood there a little confused Rin couldn’t help but curse a little more.

“This isn’t because I like you. It’s because I like my partner. Got it?”

And with that he headed off again, going who knows where.

Thought he didn’t learn the fully story until much later on when Shidou had been talking about it Charles and he had overheard. Apparently, Rin’s partner had been pretty upset when they realized that he was pretty mean overall, and wanted him to at least attempt being nicer, so the next time he saw somebody he knew he at least tried to give them a compliment, just attempting to make his partner a little less upset with him.

Isagi knew that it was just a little thing, but lord, he was sure that if Rin would go around complimenting other people, if you asked for the world to burn, he would set it on fire just so you wouldn’t be upset.

[mqrrstarr]

Gladiator Headcanons! (1/?)

How the Characters would act if you: Had A Cold!

Character x GN! Reader

Warnings: s3x implied

Characters Featured: Maximus, Lucilla, Commodus, Acacius, Caracalla, Geta, Lucius, Macrinus (edited: I never actually wrote anything for him but I did now)

A/N: First Tumblr post in a while, and I'm actually writing things too! This is the first time I've written elaborate headcanons, so please forgive if they seem a little off. I apologize for any historical/character innacuracies, and I hope to get better!! xoxo -mqrrstarr

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Maximus would immediately notice something is off. You kept complaining about a headache that didn’t seem to stop, and your temperature was high. 

“Darling, I don’t think you should fight today…”

You could only cough in response, and the guards wouldn’t let you rest. As the day’s challenge was fighting in pairs, he rapidly volunteered to fight with you. Maximus protected you from the other gladiators, and killed them as fast as you could sneeze. By the end of the day, Maximus gave you his blanket and other amenities, ushering you to a more comfier cell. (He had placed a bet with another gladiator.)

“There darling, rest up nice and easy.”

I can also see Maximus getting the other gladiators to create a soup/stew sort of mixture. Not good. But he’s very fatherly, if you can get that?

- - - - - - - -

Lucilla knows everything. After taking care of Lucius as a child, she can rapidly tell when you’re not feeling well.

“Sweetie? Do you feel alright?”

She’d do the mom thing, put her hand on your forehead and try to figure out what was wrong with you. Your head was practically boiling, so she’d get her servants to make tea, lay you in her triclinium and keep you company.

“The servants will prove useful sweetie. You’re a strong warrior, so keep hanging on.”

She’d hum a lullaby, read poetry (the same she’d read to Lucius) and tell stories until you fell asleep. 

- - - - - - - -

Commodus was rarely comforted growing up, so he knew how to handle sickness easily. Growing up semi-independent, he knew homemade tricks and tips to feel better.

“Y/N, are you not feeling well? Just get some herbs and drink an elixir. You’ll be fine.”

He realizes that he sounds a bit harsh, and reminds himself that he never wants to treat you how he was treated; with solitude and no gratitude. Commodus gets you all the snacks and food you want, and even hugs you for as long as you want. 

When you question him after it’s been a whole afternoon of him on your chest, he simply says,

“Y/N, do not question the Emperor. I wish to lay with you, and I do not fear sickness. The Gods can protect one of their own.”

He keeps hugging you and falls asleep, and the next day you’re both coughing and sneezing. 

- - - - - - - -

Acacius has been through so many battles and massacres, yet he’s never truly encountered a cold. The soldiers that cough, are usually dead. Coughing up their own blood, that is. He really doesn’t know how to help you properly, but he’ll try his best.

“Angel, can you tell me what’s wrong? I’m not really sure what to do. Should I get a doctor? Are you feeling a certain way?”

and as he says this, Acacius would use his hands to caress yours, and treat you even more like a princess/prince. He’d lay you in his own bed, and give you massages until you’d feel better. He’d also do a little more if you’d want. Iykyk. You’d fall asleep quickly, and you’d wake up to Acacius either next to you, or on a chair by the bedside and he’d be all sprawled out. His soldier senses would wake him up though.

“Angel? Angel? You’re all right now, that’s wonderful. My lovely Venus, you’re all healed.”

And his words, he would seal with a forehead kiss. GOD HE’S SUCH A SWEETHEART I NEED PEDRO PASCAL

- - - - - - - -

Caracalla had his own sickness, the one of syphilis. His wild mentality usually was what kept him going, and the love of ruling over Rome. Yet the Emperor cared for his significant other, and refused to let anyone else; even his closest servants touch you.

“My Wife/Husband, the most holiest of them all, I shall take care of you. Please tell me what your most vivid desires are? Allow me to assist you.”

He’s such a sweetheart, and he’d definitely tell you so many stories of him and Geta in their childhood, Roman mythology, and anything to keep you entertained. As he also has mommy and daddy issues, he also do a Commodus-esque move and lay on your chest and probably fall asleep first haha. When the both of you awake, he'd hear your stomach rumble.

“You’re hungry? Well then I shall feed you. Anything for you my love.”

He’d keep you filled with food and him to help your weak state. (CARACALLA COME HOME THE KIDS AND I MISS YOU)

- - - - - - - -

Geta was always stressed.  Getting much more to do as Emperor, as Caracalla had his own “duties” to fulfill. When you started coughing and sneezing as you strolled in the palace garden, he’d send the servants away to prepare a room where you could quarantine. As much as he loved you, he’d refuse to get sick. (Rome needs a healthy representation.) So you’d be alone the first few days with the occasional knock on the door. When you seemed less sick than before, he’d spend all the time with you.

“My love? I’m here for you. The Gods have finally allotted time for our get together. It will be only the finest in Rome for the night; us.”

He’d definitely turn the situation into a fun (fucking) night and then the days after that would be a cycle of laying together, fine dining meals, and caressing. (your bodies, of course.) When he has to return to his Emperor duties, he’ll leave with a long romantic and passionate kiss, one that made your entire body warm.

“Won’t be long. I’ll be back in the night.”

(if you couldn't tell i love the idea of geta as needy all the time)

- - - - - - - -

Lucius knew what it was like to feel sick and tired constantly, so he took care of you. Like a shepherd tending to his favorite sheep. Both of you grand warriors and gladiators, so there was no time to feel bad. He reassured you he could fight without you, and vowed to come back every time.

“Dearest, I promise to return safely. I couldn’t leave my soul with you, it has to be me truly here always. I vow on our love to fight for freedom and the peace of Rome. I will also fight for you.”

You trusted Lucius, (WHO WOULDN’T WITH THOSE BLUE EYES) and he is a man of his word. Day after day, you slowly healed and was able to rejoin Lucius and the others again.

“See? I knew you’d heal. The Gods give power to those who are great. And you are great.”

You fought as usual, but he’d still protect you a little more to ensure you were actually okay. 

- - - - - - - -

Macrinus would see you and get together some gladiators in your presence, hoping they would entertain you and help you ignore the pain.

“Sickness is nothing but temporary Y/N. You can and have the power to move on.”

You’d take his advice and eventually keep doing your work as his assistant, and he’d make sure you were well taken care of.

“Y/N? A true warrior does not dawdle. Good job keeping up with your tasks.”

Surprisingly, you were able to keep up with work and healed faster than expected. (THERE I WROTE FOR MACRINUS)

[scary-grace]

(secret) santa, baby - part 7 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic

Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii

part vii (staying in)

“I think everyone else is asleep,” you say, glancing around Toga’s living room. “We can probably turn this off.”

“Still awake,” Spinner says from the armchair, which he stole when Magne left after the end of the third movie. “I’m watching.”

“Yeah? What just happened?” Tomura asks.

“He’s giving everybody weird haircuts,” Spinner says. Close enough. “I have to pay attention. Aiba likes this guy’s movies. She says he’s –”

He yawns. “Nostalgic. I’m watching.”

“Okay, but nobody else is,” you say. “Shouldn’t we call it?”

Tomura glances around the room. Magne left after making everybody sit through Love Actually and Twice left midway through Die Hard because he gets scared of sleeping in other people’s houses, which leaves Toga, the girl she invited, Spinner, Dabi, Tomura, and you. Of everybody who’s left, only you and Tomura can be said to actually be awake. Spinner’s yawning on every other breath, Toga and the girl are cuddled up in the same beanbag, snoring, and Dabi drank too much eggnog and was out like a light before they’d even finished Krampus. You and Tomura are definitely outnumbered.

It’s not like Tomura isn’t tired. Tomura’s really tired. He feels the heaviness in his limbs and the yawns tightening his jaw, but his mind is wide awake, and he’s going to pay attention to every second of the movie you picked. Since he gave up forcing everybody to watch Gremlins in favor of your movie, he wants to make sure it was worth it, and he wants to know exactly what happened in case you want to talk about it afterwards. He’s hoping you do. He’s not ready for you to leave yet.

Tomura wasn’t sure about seeing you outside of work, but then he decided it would help him figure things out. Seeing you around the office is one thing. For him to know if he likes you, he has to know what you’re like outside of work, so he can decide if he’d want to hang out with you then, too. Tomura’s not good at this whole liking-people bullshit. If there was some kind of life skills class where everybody learned it, he probably missed it while he was being homeschooled or in juvie. By the time he got out, halfway through high school, everybody already knew what they were doing. Tomura just has to fumble through somehow.

You make it feel less like fumbling. It makes more sense to Tomura when you’re sitting next to him, roasting Love Actually just like he is, actually paying attention during the horror movie he picked instead of drinking straight through it. You pay attention to things, notice them, just like Tomura’s Secret Santa notices stuff about him. Tomura feels less weird about being noticed than he used to.

But he doesn’t want to just sit here noticing and getting noticed all night long. He wants to talk to you about something that’s not work or whatever dumb Christmas thing is happening, and he can only manage half. “Is this really the first movie you thought of when I said you could pick one?”

“I was trying to pick one you all would like,” you say. Something about that reminds Tomura of the way you wrote your wish list. “I do like this one, though. Some people think it’s stretching it to call it a Christmas movie, but it’s all leading up to Christmas, so I count it.”

Movies that can only be called Christmas movies if Tomura’s stretching it are his favorite kind of Christmas movies. “Why do you like it when it’s going to be sad?”

You glance sideways at him. “What makes you think it’s going to be sad?”

“The grandma telling the story is the main girl when she’s old, and she’s telling it past tense,” Tomura says. You nod. “Besides, he’s – like that. No way is that working out well for anybody.”

“But it could,” you counter. “You might be right about how the story goes, but there’s nothing in the story that says it has to be that way.”

Tomura thought you were awake, but maybe you’re sleepier than he thought. “You mean, other than the whole story so far?”

“I mean –” You trail off. “In some stories, there’s obstacles that can’t be overcome. Like somebody being dead, or something being too wrong to work. And in some stories the obstacles are a choice, kind of. Those are the ones I like.”

Tomura’s played games where choices matter. Somehow he always stumbles into the bad ending, and knowing that there’s a good ending out there that he was too stupid to get makes it even worse. If you like those stories, you’re probably better at making choices than he is. Still – “If the end’s the same, why does it matter?”

“Well –”

“Hey, can you save the philosophy until after the movie?” Spinner yawns. “I’m still trying to watch.”

Tomura gives it five minutes until Spinner passes out, and he’s only off by about thirty seconds or so. Now it’s just the two of you awake, watching the weird movie you picked. Tomura’s trying hard to watch the movie, but just like he keeps getting the song you sang stuck in his head, he keeps getting stuck looking at you.

The movie ends like Tomura thought it would – sadly, but not surprisingly – and he glances at you. “You’re going to say she could have chosen to stay with him,” Tomura says, and you nod. “Why would she do that? When he’s – like that –”

Tomura doesn’t get why he’s being squeamish about calling it like it is. The main character’s ugly. Scary. Nothing anybody wants to touch. “Maybe she likes him how he is,” you say. You’re not looking at the screen anymore. You’re looking at Tomura. “There’s nothing about the story that says she couldn’t have picked him. There’d have been consequences, but there are always consequences. And I guess that’s why it’s sad. Knowing it could have been the other way just as easily.”

You look away from Tomura, and even though he usually hates being looked at, he sort of misses it. “I guess it’s good that everybody fell asleep,” you say. “This doesn’t really seem like a sad-Christmas crowd.”

“Sad Christmas makes more sense than happy Christmas,” Tomura says before he can really think about it. “It never made sense to me, except –”

Making friends. Spending the holidays with them instead of wondering why everybody but him got to celebrate with people they mattered to. And he’ll never admit it to Toga, or anyone, but the Secret Santa thing is kind of fun. He likes leaving stuff for you and seeing how you react. Almost as much as he likes getting things from whoever his Secret Santa is.

“Yeah,” you say, like he’s explained it all out loud. Maybe he’s tired enough that he has and just didn’t realize. “I can see that.”

You’re doing that noticing thing again. Tomura keeps looking at you, trying to notice you back, but the longer the two of you look at each other, the weirder it starts to feel between you. Like there’s something more that needs to happen. Tomura steels himself, braced for whatever you do or to act as soon as he has an idea of what to do.

And then you look away. “It’s late. I should go.”

“You could stay,” Tomura says. “None of us except Toga live here, and we’re all sleeping over.”

You look like you’re thinking about it. Tomura can think of a lot of reasons why you should – it’s late, it’s cold, it’s probably a long way to your apartment, you’d basically have to wake up again by the time you got home – but before he can say any of them, you nod. “Okay. Where should we sleep?”

You end up with your heads at opposite ends of the couch, under the same blanket. Both of you rustle around, knees knocking together as you try to settle in. You fall asleep faster than Tomura does. There’s no way he can imagine you tangling your legs up with his if you were awake, and Tomura’s so focused on trying to live with being this close to someone that the question of whether he likes you is answered definitively offscreen. It’s something he wakes up with. Just like he wakes up still sharing the couch with you.

<- part vi part viii ->

[cece693]

Hello! Could you write something about how Hannibal(Hannibal NBC) fell in love with a reader(preferably male, but female is okay too!)who is also a surgeon? Perhaps they could cross paths while working on the investigation of one of the cases? And what if the reader is cold, distant and paranoid, the one who keeps everyone at arm's length. I just absolutely LOVE this parallel between Hannibal and Franklin, because Hannibal would probably be "the Franklin" in this situation. It's okay if you're uncomfortable or don't want to write it! Have a nice day!🌸🌸🌸

Give Me Attention (Hannibal Lecter x M! Reader)

Hi, I absolutely love the request because it strays so far from what Hannibal is (and believe me, I did take advantage to write a needy and pathetic Hannibal who's down for the reader.) So this might not be the most realistic but it's fun! Hope you enjoy it.

tags: down bad Hannibal, Hannibal finds reader endearing, even if they're rude, open ending??

You always prided yourself on your surgical precision, the clean lines of your incisions, the careful stitching that spoke of a quiet dedication to your craft. But the work before you now—the dissected realities of crime scenes rather than the sanitized sterility of an operating room—was a grotesque mockery of your life’s work. When Jack Crawford had approached you, his eyes weary and voice heavy with unspoken desperation, you had felt compelled to help, drawn in by the promise of stopping a monster. Little did you know, you’d be working alongside one.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter was an enigma wrapped in a facade of impeccable suits and polite smiles. From the moment you met, his gaze lingered too long, his questions probing too deeply. You wanted a professional relationship, nothing more. Yet, Hannibal seemed determined to weave himself into the very fabric of your life.

“Dr. Lecter, I appreciate your insights, but I'm quite capable of drawing my own conclusions,” you said, after he had offered yet another piercing analysis of a body you were examining. Your tone was polite but distant, an invisible barrier you continually reinforced.

“Of course, my apologies. I find our collaboration most enlightening,” Hannibal responded, his voice smooth, betraying no hint of offense. “Perhaps we could discuss our theories over dinner? I believe a change of scenery could prove invigorating.”

You paused, the scalpel in your hand hovering above cold flesh. “That won’t be necessary, Doctor. I prefer to keep my work at work.” You didn’t miss the brief shadow that crossed his face before his polite smile returned.

“As you wish.”

Despite your refusals, Hannibal’s attempts at friendship only escalated. It started with chance encounters. You’d see him at the coffee shop where you grabbed your morning espresso, a polite nod exchanged, nothing more. Then it was the bookstore you frequented on quiet Sundays, Hannibal browsing the aisles, a thoughtful expression as he picked through titles you’d just glanced at minutes before.

But it wasn’t just public spaces. It was recommendations left on your desk, notes about books or wines he thought you’d enjoy, reservations made at restaurants you’d mentioned offhandedly during meetings. It was becoming too much, his presence too suffocating.

One evening, as you were leaving Quantico, you found him waiting by your car. The parking lot was nearly empty, the streetlights casting long shadows. “Dr. Lecter, this is becoming inappropriate,” you said, your tone sharper than before.

“My intentions are purely of a friendly nature,” he explained, stepping closer. “I find your mind fascinating. It’s not often I meet someone whose intellect I admire as much.”

“You need to stop this,” you insisted. “Whatever you think is happening between us, it isn’t. I'm not interested in becoming your friend nor do I find you interesting. Now, leave me alone." You hissed, unlocking your car and sliding inside before he could respond.

Hannibal stood silently, the sharp sting of your words cutting through the cold air between you. He watched as you slid into your car, his expression unreadable, a mask of calm painted over the tumult inside him. For a moment, he remained motionless, the weight of rejection settling heavily on his shoulders.

As your car's headlights flickered on, casting long shadows on the pavement, Hannibal's thoughts churned. Rejection was an unfamiliar and unwelcome guest in his life, one he was not prepared to entertain graciously. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched you drive away, the tail lights blurring into the growing dusk.

In the solitude of the empty parking lot, Hannibal allowed himself a rare moment of vulnerability. "Not interested," the words echoed in his mind, a stark contrast to the usual praises and desires he elicited in others. His interest in you had been genuine, profound even, transcending the usual boundaries that defined his relationships. You were a challenge, a riddle wrapped in the enigma of your own moral and professional fortitude, and he had failed to unravel you.

Turning slowly, Hannibal walked back to his own vehicle, his steps measured, the grace of his movements belying the turmoil within. As he drove home, the streets empty and bathed in the glow of streetlights, he contemplated your words.

"Leave me alone." The finality of it should have been a deterrent, a clear signal to cease and desist. But Hannibal Lecter was not a man deterred by the conventional responses of others. To him, every human interaction was a complex dance of wills and desires, and he was a master choreographer.

In the quiet of his kitchen, Hannibal poured himself a glass of Chianti, the rich red liquid swirling in the glass, a dark mirror to his thoughts. He pondered the nuances of your rejection, searching for a sliver of meaning or a crack in your armor. Was there truly no interest? Or was it a defense mechanism, a wall built to keep the world—and perhaps him—decidedly out?

"You do find me interesting," he murmured to himself, the words a whisper against the clink of the glass. "You must. The mind like yours cannot help but be intrigued by the anomalies of human behavior, and I," he paused, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "am certainly an anomaly."

Resolved, Hannibal set his glass down. Your rejection, while clear and stinging, was but another layer of the complexity that made you so fascinating. He would give you space, for now, to contemplate and perhaps to miss the dance of intellects that had begun to form between you. Patience, after all, was a virtue he possessed in abundance.

Tomorrow, Hannibal would return to Quantico, his demeanor unchanged, polite and professional. He would respect your wishes, maintaining a distance. But he would watch, and wait, and perhaps, in time, you would see that the dance was far from over. The game, as they say, was afoot, and Hannibal Lecter was never one to walk away from a challenge, especially not one as intriguing as you.

[eczlipse]

pussy drunk jay with inexperienced reader🫶

pussy drunk — park jongseong（ 박종성）

as you and your boyfriend keep constantly missing each other because of work— when you both finally see each other , he can’t seem to hold himself back.

pairing & warnings : pussydrunk!jay (obvi), reader!inexperienced, sub!reader, fem!reader, nicknames.. (princess, my love)

authors note; hoping you enjoy this anon!! love youu <33 p.s not proof read…

you’d waited a while back at home, your handsome boyfriend had stayed at the studio— recording songs for his bands upcoming album. you missed him, work had taken up most of his time leaving you alone at home. jay on the other hand, missed you both physically and emotionally— being far away from you constantly, made him feel a significant need for you.

you sighed as you laid down on your shared bed with jay, wishing he were next to you. pulling at your phone, you thought that ‘it wouldn’t hurt to text him while he’s a work. right?’ at that you sent him a message.

hi handsome when r u getting home ?

after a couple minutes of impatience, he’d sent you a text back.

i’ll be home soon princess, can’t wait to see you. give me another 10 minutes?

at that, you couldn’t help but blush at his written words. you were so excited to kiss your boyfriend, cuddle with him and have him by your side for the night. you then reached into your nightstand and picked up a book— beginning to read as you waited for jay.

as you slowly began to snooze, you heard a familiar sound coming from your front door— the door unlocking. at that, you got up quickly and made your way to the door reconnecting with your boyfriend. he smiled down at you as you wrapped your arms around his neck— kissing him softly. as it slowly came to an end, you both pulled away.

- i missed you so much, you wouldn’t believe it my love.

he spoke as his hand rested on your waist, you smiled at him before talking back—

- i’m flattered… i missed you too i guess…

you said sarcastically, at that he rolled his eyes and hugged you tightly— keeping you in his arms for a while, swaying side to side. your boyfriend then began to guide you to your shared bedroom, wasting no time.

you laid down, chuckling at his neediness. your boyfriend joined you, on top of you— you had never seen him in such detail. what had gotten into him? he continued to kiss you, placing his hands on your jawline sinking into the kiss, he wanted more. you slightly moaned in between kisses, for him— that’s what made him yearn for you even more.

at that, he began to trail his hands around your body. you felt confused, you’d never been touched in such ways. jay could tell your nervousness as his hands slid down your body. you nodded at him slightly, letting him know he was allowed to continue. you let each others hands roam around your bodies. as he reached your jeans, he looks at you and asked a simple yet important question—

- is this okay ?

you gulped and nodded, you had never been handled in such ways. he suddenly began to unzip your jeans— throwing them somewhere around the room and even slightly pulling down your underwear. he kissed down, from your lips down to your stomach and finally down to your wet entrance. he let his fingers rub your area, causing you to whimper. you felt so vulnerable to him, as if he could do anything to you— and that was exactly what he wanted : doing anything to you.

you gasped at his sudden appearance appearance in between your legs, you felt him begin to flick his tongue within your entrance.

his tongue delved into your slick folds. he lapped at your clit, flicking your sensitive areas with the tip of his tongue before sucking it between his lips.

- you're so wet for me already, keep still mkay’

he groaned, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers through you. you attempted to keep still but his touch made it all so difficult. jay then gripped your thighs, spreading your legs wider as he buried his face in between you.

your fingers tangled in his hair at the unfamiliar feeling, tugging and pushing his head closer. soft, needy moans spilled from your lips, growing louder and more desperate as he brought you closer to the edge.

- that’s it, baby. are you alright?

you whimpered in response as he encouraged you, licking and sucking your clit. he doubled his efforts, tongue circling your entrance rapidly.

suddenly, your body began to tense, back arching as the intense pleasure crested. your moans had gotten louder, you cried out, gripping his hair tightly as you clenched around his tongue. he could tell you were at your climax,

jay moaned into your cunt, as you came all over his lips. pulling back, jay grinned up at you, his face glistening with your arousal.

he then crawled up to your body, pressing soft kisses along your stomach and breasts before capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. you tasted yourself on his tongue, the flavor heady and intoxicating.

- i love you so much.

he murmured against your lips, his eyes shining with adoration and satisfaction. you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both basked in the afterglow.

- i love you too.

[pecancobbler]

cg ! vander headcanons

— admittedly vanders not a fav 4 me but i rlly do adore him & think he's actually such a perfect cg :( i wish he had more screentime !! i hope u enjoy :)

-> cw: bar mention (the last drop!)

ꢾ୧ requested; yes!

☆ cg ! vander who sets up little play dates for you to have with his other kids, making little activities for you all to do while he works. having little surprises for different tasks you do together

☆ cg ! vander who is so papa bear, overprotective to a fault with how he has you with him or the kids. always making sure you're not getting into trouble or anything that could hurt you

☆ cg ! vander who sits you in the bartender spot, a couple of toys in front of you while he lets you pass out the waters and sodas people ask for. giving you a little allowance to pay for little things you want so you feel "grown up"

☆ cg ! vander who lets you run your hands over his beard to stim, keeping it exactly to your liking for whenever you wish to. letting you apply homemade beard oils & soaps to it as a part of your morning routine

☆ cg ! vander who gives you big ol' bear hugs whenever you do grabby hands at him, scooping you up in his arms easily so he can hold you even closer. pressing kisses to anywhere you'll let him while rocking you

☆ cg ! vander who lets you pick out the music in the bar for the night, helping you with picking and putting in the disc. making sure to keep your favorite song unscathed and perfect even replacing it if it somehow gets damaged

☆ cg ! vander who fake snores whenever you try to wake him up too early, only to pull you back into bed if you don't stop. blowing raspberries onto your cheeks as you giggle and try to wiggle out from under him

☆ cg ! vander who accidentally gives you a bad haircut </3

[wchswift]

Under the Lights ༉‧₊˚ 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader Summary: A sweet and peaceful Christmas with Dean. Content: fluff, mostly soft moments, family, first Christmas at the bunker, I hate Mary but she is mentioned briefly, not proofread, English isn’t my first language :) Word count: 2k A/N: almost christmas and im so excited!! I really love christmas and lately these are the only ideas I can think of to write lol. i just love soft and happy dean so I thought I'd write a cute one shot about him having a good christmas bc all i wanted was to spend these holidays with him

mdni 𖤐 18+

Dean leaned against the doorway, the faintest curve of a smile playing on his lips. The sight of you, utterly absorbed in decorating the tree, tugged at something deep in his chest. The soft glow of the twinkling lights painted your face in golds and silvers. You were on your toes, reaching for a high branch, determined to hang an ornament in its perfect place. From his vantage point, Dean couldn’t help but grin. The way your nose crinkled when something didn’t sit just right, the soft hum of Christmas music as you worked—it all made the bunker feel a little less like a fortress and a little more like home.

The table behind you bore the chaos of your efforts—ornaments arranged and rearranged, tinsel spilling onto the floor like silken threads of moonlight. It was chaos, yes, but it was yours, and Dean found it impossible to look away.

“Sweetheart,” he finally said, his voice warm and teasing, breaking through the soft hum of Let It Snow playing in the background. “Not to rush a masterpiece, but you’ve been at this tree longer than it takes Santa to finish his route.”

You turned, giving him a mock glare, your lips pressed into a pout that was as endearing as it was teasing. “It has to be perfect, Dean.”

“It already is,” he countered, stepping closer, his hands casually stuffed into his pockets. “Lights, ornaments, a star on top—what more does a tree need?”

“Your enthusiasm,” you shot back, turning back to adjust the ribbon for what must have been the hundredth time.

Dean chuckled, moving to your side, sliding an arm around your waist, and pulling you against him. “My enthusiasm’s here,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple. "I'm just more contained about it."

You let out a soft sigh, letting yourself lean deeper into his warm embrace as you closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the comfort he provided. "I know, Dean," you began, your voice gentle but filled with understanding. "But I also know how excited you get about these celebrations. Deep down, you wish for that typical family cliche, and you and Sam truly deserve it. I just want us to have a memorable time together… Could you please enjoy this too and get into the mood with me?"

You turned your face to meet his gaze, your eyes sparkling with hope and sincerity. Your tone was calm, and the warmth of your words seemed to hang in the air between you. Dean, ever the skeptic, tried to roll his eyes in playful defiance, but a smile broke through despite his efforts. The corners of his mouth lifted, and he leaned in, planting a quick, soft kiss on your lips before surrendering to your encouragement, as he usually did.

The sound of boots against metal echoed through the bunker as Sam descended the stairs. His voice rang out before he even reached the bottom. “Dean, what’s going on in here?”

Sam paused, his eyebrows shooting up as he took in the sight of his brother atop the map table, duct-taping garland to the ceiling beams.

"Decking the halls, Sammy. What’s it look like?” He replied, still focused on the lights.

“It looks like a fire hazard,” Sam deadpanned, crossing his arms as he took in the mess of lights, ornaments, and tinsel scattered across the room.

You emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray of cookies, just as Dean hopped down from the table. “Sam, you should’ve seen him earlier. He tried to hang stockings with fishing wire.”

Dean shrugged, unapologetic. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Sam sighed, shaking his head. "So, this is your new thing now? Christmas?” He muttered though a small smile tugged at his lips.

“Oh, come on, Sam,” you chimed in, setting the cookies down on the table. “It's the best time of the year. Even hunters deserve a little holiday spirit.”

Dean grabbed a cookie, pointing it at Sam. “She’s right. Stop being a Grinch.”

Reluctantly, Sam joined in, helping you and Dean finish decorating the bunker. By the time you were done, the usually cold, utilitarian space looked warm and inviting. Lights draped across the walls, the centerpiece Sam had crafted out of pine branches and candles sat proudly on the map table, and the tree sparkled in the corner.

Dean stepped back, hands on his hips, surveying the scene. “Not bad for a bunch of hunters, huh?”

Later that evening, the bunker had settled into a cozy stillness. Sam had retreated to his room, leaving you and Dean sitting by the softly glowing tree. The faint crackle of a vinyl record Dean had unearthed earlier filled the air, Bing Crosby crooning about dreaming of a white Christmas.

You leaned back against the armchair, watching Dean as he entertained himself by drinking his hot chocolate. The moment felt right, so you reached beside you and pulled out a carefully wrapped box tied with red string.

“Okay,” you said, your voice tinged with both excitement and hesitation, “before you make a big deal out of this, I just want to say that it’s practical.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose as he took the box, his lips twitching into a grin. “Practical, huh? Not sure what that means coming from you.”

“Just open it,” you urged, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap.

Dean unwrapped the box with care, his grin softening as he revealed a thick leather-bound journal. His fingers brushed over the cover, and for a moment, he was quiet, his thumb tracing the edges of the pages.

“It’s, uh…” you started, your voice softer now. “I noticed you don’t really have a place to write things down—your thoughts, memories, whatever. So I thought… maybe you could use it. For good stuff. Things you want to remember. Not like hunting stuff or anything like your dad's but something good? Or whatever you want I don't know...” you rambled, feeling anxious.

Dean opened the journal, flipping through the blank pages. Inside the front cover, you’d written a small inscription in your neat handwriting: For all the moments you want to hold on to.

He stared at the words for a long beat before letting out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You know me too well, sweetheart.”

“I just thought,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, “after everything we’ve been through, it might be nice to have something that’s yours. Something that’s just… good.”

Dean closed the journal and set it carefully on the table beside him. Then he turned to you, his green eyes impossibly soft. “You always know what I need before I even know it myself.”

Before you could respond, he reached behind him and pulled something from his jacket pocket. “Okay, my turn.”

He held out a small box, its edges worn, like it had been carried around for some time. “It’s not new,” he said, almost apologetically. “But I’ve been meaning to give this to you.”

You opened the box slowly, revealing a simple yet beautiful silver bracelet. The charms hanging were clearly chosen by a hunter, it was small and subtle, but unmistakable.

“It was my mom’s,” Dean said quietly, his gaze dropping to the bracelet. “She always said it was for protection. I’ve kept it all these years, but… I think she’d want you to have it.”

Your throat tightened, and tears pricked at your eyes as you looked at him. “Dean, I… I can’t take this. It’s too important.”

Dean shook his head, reaching out to take your hand. “You’re important,” he said simply. “And if anyone deserves to have it, it’s you.”

You stared at the bracelet, overwhelmed by the gesture. Then, without a word, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder. He held you tightly, his hand cradling the back of your head.

When you finally pulled away, you slipped the bracelet onto your wrist, smiling through the tears in your eyes. “Thank you, Dean. I’ll take good care of it.”

“I know you will,” he said softly, his thumb brushing across your knuckles.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the soft hum of the record player. And as you leaned back against him, the bracelet resting cool against your skin, you felt a sense of belonging that you hadn’t known you were missing.

The warm connection from the gift exchange flowed naturally into the next day, making every interaction lighter, and more meaningful.

The kitchen was a flurry of activity as the three of you prepared dinner. Dean insisted on taking charge of the main course, proudly presenting a vegetarian lasagna for Sam and you.

“See? I’m not just a pie guy,” he said, grinning.

Meanwhile, you and Sam teamed up to bake cookies. It started out innocent enough, but it quickly devolved into a flour fight when Sam accidentally knocked over the mixing bowl.

Dean walked in just as you lobbed a handful of flour at Sam, only to hit him square in the chest instead. He froze, staring down at his now-flour-covered shirt. “What the hell, guys?”

Dean just watched you and Sam burst into laughter, trying to stay mad.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean muttered, brushing flour off his jacket. “Real funny. Guess who’s cleaning this up?”

“Not me,” you and Sam said in unison, making you chuckle again.

Dean shook his head, a grin appearing on his face despite his attempt to remain irritated.

Later that night, the three of you gathered in the living room, your plates cleared and the remnants of the day’s chaos tucked away. Sam stretched out on the other armchair with a book, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he occasionally glanced at you and Dean by the tree, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders.

The bracelet he’d given you caught the soft glow of the lights, its charm resting lightly against your wrist. You found yourself absently touching it, grounding yourself in the weight of what it meant.

Sam finally closed his book, setting it aside as he stretched his long legs. “You know,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence, “You two actually did a pretty good job. I think this might be the first time the bunkers actually felt… normal. Like a real home.”

Dean snorted softly. “Took long enough, huh?”

Sam smiled, his expression soft. “Yeah. But I’m glad we got here.”

Dean raised his mug in a mock toast. “To surviving another year and not burning the place down with Christmas lights.”

Sam rolled his eyes but lifted his mug too. “Yeah, yeah... To family.”

You lifted your own mug, smiling as you echoed the sentiment. “To family.”

The three of you sat quietly for a while, watching the lights twinkle on the tree. Eventually, Sam excused himself, muttering something about research, leaving you and Dean alone again.

Dean nudged you gently, drawing your attention. “Come with me for a sec,” he said, his voice low but insistent.

Curious, you followed him as he grabbed a thick blanket from the couch and led you up the large stairs of the bunker. He stopped at one of the heavy iron doors, twisting the wheel to unlock it before pulling it open to reveal the wide, open expanse of the night sky.

The cold air hit you first, crisp and biting, but the sight of the stars made you forget it almost instantly. Dean draped the blanket over your shoulders and pulled you close, his warmth a welcome contrast to the chill.

“Figured we could use some fresh air,” he said simply, his voice quiet.

You leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder as you gazed up at the stars. They glittered against the inky blackness, impossibly bright and infinite, like tiny promises of hope scattered across the sky.

“We really did it huh?” Dean murmured, his voice low and warm.

“Did what?” you asked, tilting your head to look up at him.

“This,” he said simply, gesturing back to the bunker. “Christmas. The whole thing. It’s not half bad.”

“It’s perfect,” you said softly, resting your head back against his shoulder.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The world felt distant here, the weight of hunting, loss, and responsibility held at bay by the vastness of the universe.

Dean’s voice broke the silence, soft but sure. “You know, I never thought I’d get something like this.”

You turned to look at him, your brow furrowing slightly. “Something like what?”

He gestured toward the stars, the blanket, the faint glow of the bunker behind you. “All this. A night where everything’s quiet. Where it feels like we’re not just surviving.”

Your chest tightened at his words, and you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “You deserve this, Dean. You deserve nights like this and so much more.”

He looked at you then, his green eyes shimmering in the soft glow of the starlight above. A gentle smile played on his lips as he spoke, “So do you,” his voice barely above a whisper. His thumb grazed over your knuckles, sending a warm thrill through you. "Thank you." With a tender sincerity, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and lingering, filled with a depth of love and unspoken emotions that seemed to wrap around you like a cozy blanket, leaving you breathless in the stillness of the night.

The two of you stayed there, wrapped in the quiet and each other, until the cold became too much to ignore.

As you made your way back inside, Dean caught your hand, stopping you just before you reached the main hallway.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and rough around the edges. “Merry Christmas.”

You smiled, leaning up to give him a peck on the lips, your heart full. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

And in that moment, with the warmth of his hand in yours and the quiet hum of life around you, you felt something you hadn’t in a long time: hope. This was home—messy, chaotic, and imperfect. And it was everything you needed.

a/n: oh my god, I had so much fun writing this :) I don't know if I liked how it turned out that much, but I thought it was cute enough to post...

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

[dante2045]

Holiday Spirit

Luke looked up from his desk at the sound of knocking, seeing his husband standing in the doorway. Other than a brief greeting when he'd come back from work, Luke had barely seen Parker that night; he'd had to stay late for a big meeting with a prospective client and had retired to his office immediately upon coming home. Luke was up for a big promotion, and closing this deal would be a huge boon in his favour. Unfortunately that had translated into a lot of late nights, which Luke knew was starting to get on Parker's nerves.

"Are you ready to head out soon?" Parker asked, wrapping a scarf around his neck. He was dressed in an ugly Christmas sweater that Luke found cringeworthy. Parker loved Christmas and the festive season; Luke personally thought the whole thing was overrated, but did his best to tolerate the holidays on Parker's behalf.

"Oh shoot, I forgot about tonight," Luke lied. He'd remembered their plans, but had no intention of fulfilling them. He hoped that playing dumb would buy him some leniency.

Parker tried to hide his irritation, and was only partially successful. "You forgot about Christmas Eve?" He asked through gritted teeth, crossing his arms.

"Babe, you know how busy I've been at work lately. I need to get this proposal down ASAP if I want a chance at getting that manager position in January," Luke reasoned, rising from his desk and approaching Parker.

"So what? You're bailing on tonight?" Parker shook his head in disapproval. It was evident that Luke's attempts at charming his husband were falling on deaf ears.

"It's not that I want to! Believe me, I would love nothing more than to spend Christmas Eve with you and everyone else. But this proposal-" Luke started.

"Your proposal can't wait a few hours? What the hell am I going to tell everyone when I show up by myself?" Parker took a step back as Luke reached out for him.

"You could say I'm not feeling well?" Luke suggested.

"You're unbelievable sometimes, Lucas," Parker spat, turning to leave. Luke winced; Parker only used his full name when he was really pissed.

"Once I get through this week, things will be different," Luke promised, following Parker out into the hallway. "When I get this job, I'll be able to cut down on my hours."

"Funny, I remember hearing a similar promise at Halloween. And Thanksgiving. And countless other times," Parker muttered, sliding his boots on and grabbing his coat from the hall closet.

"What do you want me to say, Parker? Would it make you happy if I threw my career away for you?" Luke knew this argument wouldn't help things, but he felt his anger getting the best of him. How could Parker be so selfish to make everything about him? Didn't he realize that Luke wanted this promotion for the both of them?

"Always so melodramatic, Lucas," Parker rolled his eyes. He opened the front door but then paused at the barrier, turning over his shoulder to look Luke in his eyes. "I know this job is important to you, Luke. And I love you and support you. But I should also be important to you. I wish you'd at least make an effort to be a bit more festive at Christmas. If not for yourself, than for me." Before Luke could respond, Parker left their apartment and firmly shut the door behind him.

Luke groaned. He was going to be in the doghouse for all of tomorrow. He knew that this was important to Parker, but if Luke was honest he didn't really know why. Christmas was just another day of the year; the only difference is that it had been marketed as a special day for commercial purposes. The true meaning of Christmas, as far as Luke was concerned, was for the braindead population to spend their rent money on something they didn't need or couldn't afford, and in turn give CEOs a nice bonus to end out the year. Parker thought Luke's viewpoint was overly cynical, but Luke just saw it as reality.

Luke returned to his office to continue working away at his project. As rude as it was, he was kind of grateful to have the place to himself for the night; it was much easier to get things done without Parker's constant interruptions.

A text popped up on his phone from Parker. Made it to the party. Everyone's asking where you're at. Luke swiped the message away without responding. He knew that Parker was trying to make him feel guilty, and he had too much to do to deal with juvenal antics.

A few hours later, Luke's eyes burned from staring at his laptop screen for so long. He got up to grab a glass of water from the kitchen, staring at the living room couch in envy. He glanced at his watch; he'd made good progress on his work and still had a few hours before Parker would be home, and decided a quick break wouldn't hurt.

Luke let himself sink into the sofa, pressing his head against the padded cushion. He'd take a 5 minute recharge, then get back to work. He struggled to keep his eyes open, fighting the urge to sleep...

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

A loud knock at the door woke Luke up from his sleep. He sat up on the couch, checking the time and cursing when he realized that he'd slept for nearly two hours. It was just after midnight; Parker would be home soon. It was probably him at the door now, locked out from forgetting his keys during his tantrum earlier on. With a big stretch, Luke reluctantly stood from the couch and went to the front door.

He unlocked and pulled it open, expecting to see an impatient Parker on the other side. Instead of Parker, a stranger stood at the door. Luke was surprised but not immediately alarmed; they lived near the downtown core, and from time to time a drunkard who was lost knocked on their door for directions.

The man standing in front of him appeared to be in his mid-fifties, with short white hair and a neat, closely trimmed beard. He was dressed as Santa, with red pants and jacket. The jacket was undone and the man was shirtless underneath, showing his beer belly and thick pecs. Luke wasn't really into older guys, though he did feel an immediate attraction towards this stranger; he was handsome and rocked his dad bod.

"Merry Christmas, young man," The stranger greeted in a booming voice, a big dumb grin on his face.

"Do you need help, sir?" Luke asked. He crossed his arms, shivering from the cold wind blowing in through the open door. How was this man not wearing a shirt in the freezing cold?

"No, no, I'm quite alright, though thank you for asking. I'm actually here on business," The man answered.

Luke arched an eyebrow. "Oh really? And what business might that be?"

"Why, don't you recognize me?" The man asked, astonished as he gestured downwards at his outfit. "I'm Santa!"

Luke had half a mind to slam the door shut in this man's face. He was not in a mood to deal with this nonsense and had work he needed to get back to. At the same time, the man was clearly inebriated and Luke didn't feel comfortable leaving him to brave the cold weather in his delirious state. Luke gave the man a quick once over; he seemed harmless enough, nonsensical ramblings notwithstanding.

"Well, why don't you come in, Santa, and I'll call you a cab to get you back to workshop?" Luke offered, standing aside to let the man enter. The stranger seemed affable to this suggestion, stepping inside.

"I think I left my phone in my office. I'll just go grab it," Luke said as he shut the front door. "I'll be back in a second."

"Yes, yes, working all night on Christmas Eve. Not very festive of you, Lucas," The man admonished him.

Luke froze, turning to look at the stranger with a newfound wariness. How had he known his name?

"Do I know you?" Luke asked, taking an apprehensive step away from the stranger. Maybe inviting him into his home wasn't the smartest idea after all.

"I'm Santa, I know everybody." The stranger let out a deep chuckle.

"Did Parker put you up to this? Is this some kind of prank?" Luke took another apprehensive step away from the stranger. If he needed to defend himself, could he get a weapon from the kitchen before the man reached him?

"There's no need for that. I have no plans to physically harm you," The stranger said. Luke felt a chill wash over him; this man had heard his inner thoughts. Who the hell was this guy?

"I think it's best you leave," Luke said firmly, gesturing towards the door. This was getting too weird for him; let the old man fend for himself, he decided.

"I can't leave yet. Like I said, I'm here on work," The man replied calmly, still smiling at Luke.

"Listen, dude. I'm not going to ask a second time. Either you leave or I make you leave." Luke eyed the table lamp beside him. It would make for a decent weapon, worst case scenario.

"You are thinking very naughty thoughts right now, Luke," The man scolded. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers, bright sparks shooting from his fingertips. Luke tried to grab the lamp to defend himself, but his body wouldn't move. It was like he'd been frozen from the neck down.

"What the hell, man? What the fuck is going on?" Luke cried out in fear. He could still move his neck and head to look around the room, but otherwise he'd been paralyzed in place.

"You need to listen better, Luke. I've already told you who I am; you should know what I am capable of."

As impossible as it was to believe, Luke could find no other logical explanation for what was happening. Maybe the man standing in front of him really was Santa?

"Santa? Why are you doing this to me?" Luke hated hearing the shakiness of his voice, but couldn't control the fear surging through him.

"Like I said, I am here on business. Your husband Parker, he's been a very good boy this year. And for Christmas he wished you would be in the festive Christmas spirit." Santa snapped his fingers again, sparks flying through the air. Luke's clothes began to shift; his black sweatpants brightened to red as the loose material tightened around his lower body. His t-shirt dematerialized, leaving him shirtless and revealing his chiseled upper body.

"Very nice body, Lucas. I can see that you definitely didn't miss out on your workout regimen this year," Santa commented, admiring Luke's bare chest.

"Please, man, stop whatever it is you're doing," Luke pleaded. He was still unable to move, at the mercy of Santa's powers.

"It's not up to me. I'm just fulfilling Parker's wish," Santa explained, snapping his fingers again.

At first, Luke wasn't sure what Santa had done. It didn't seem anything was different, until he looked down and saw his legs widening in his pants. A padding of fat grew in along Luke's calves and thighs, leaving them muscled but with much less definition. Luke looked at his butt to watch his tight ass expand with fat as well, growing round and juicy in his pants.

"What the hell are you doing to me, man? My body!" Luke cried out in protest.

"Parker wished for you to be more festive during Christmas," Santa laughed, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Can you think of anyone jollier than me?"

Santa snapped his fingers again, and Luke could feel his cock start to harden in his pants. He looked down at his erection, the bulge clearly visible through the tight pants he was wearing. Luke had always thought he'd been of average size; not particularly big but packing enough not to be embarrassed about it. His erection started to retract, shrinking in length but growing in girth. His dick was now a short, thick chode.

"Fuck, man, please stop!" Luke shouted, despairing at his reduced manhood. "I learnt my lesson, I need to be a better husband."

Santa didn't say anything, instead just snapping his fingers yet again. Luke wanted to cry as he watched his abs fade away, softening as his stomach ballooned outwards into a round belly. His pecs swelled outwards, staying firm with muscle whilst also growing rounder and drooping. Luke's broad shoulders slimmed down as his entire frame was compressed, reducing his height. His arms remained muscular and toned, their definition softening under a padding of fat.

"Santa, please! This is not what Parker meant when he wished I was more festive," Luke tried one last time to get Santa to stop his magic.

"He should've been more specific, then," Santa shrugged nonchalantly with one last snap of his fingers.

Luke's dark brown hair lightened to a snowy white as a beard sprouted along his chin and lips. His face softened, his defined cheekbones fading from view as laughter lines were etched on his rounded face. His eyes lightened to a warm welcoming blue while his eyebrows grew thick and bushy. A thin layer of dark grey hairs sprouted along his pecs and stomach, a treasure trail forming from his belly button down towards his crotch.

With the transformation complete, Luke found himself able to move again. He quickly ran to the hallway mirror, shocked at his own reflection. He looked just like Santa! Though initially filled with horror, Luke quickly found himself appreciating his new bod. He was still hot; if anything, his belly and man tits actually made him sexier! And the white hair and beard really gave him a sophisticated look.

Luke spun around to face the original Santa, who was still smiling at his handiwork. Santa reached out a hand and gently gripped Luke's dick through his pants, which was still rock hard.

"Mind if I take a quick inspection down there?" Santa asked with a wink, "I like to give all my presents a final check before delivering."

Luke was so horny he could barely speak, instead just nodding in agreement. Santa got down on his knees and unbuckled Luke's pants, sliding them down to reveal Luke's hardon. Santa gently stroked Luke's cock before opening his mouth and swallowing it whole. Gripping Luke's fat ass for support, Santa hungrily sucked on Luke's cock. The pleasure from Santa's blowjob was overwhelming, and Luke's panting increased as he neared orgasm. It was so much better being Santa, Luke thought, moaning as he blew his load down Santa's throat. He couldn't wait to spread the Christmas joy far and wide.

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

Luke sat up from his desk, wakened by the knocking at the door. Panting heavily, Luke quickly looked down at his body, relieved to see his muscular, fit body back to normal. He opened his phone and looked at himself in the camera, relaxing at seeing his own reflection rather than Santa's. The whole encounter with Santa must have been some crazy dream.

Luke looked up to see Parker standing in the doorway, frowning in concern. He was still wearing that stupid Christmas sweater, but Luke had never been so happy to see his husband before.

"Are you alright?" Parker asked warily. "You're drenched in sweat."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," Luke nodded. He jumped up from his desk and embraced Parker in a tight hug, much to his husband's surprise. "I just had a bad dream, that's all."

"Well, I was just getting ready for tonight. Are you ready to go soon?" Parker asked.

Luke glanced over his shoulder at his laptop. The project was still waiting; Luke knew taking the night off would put him behind. Luke returned to his desk, grabbed the lid of his laptop and slammed it shut before grinning at his husband.

"Yeah, let's head out."

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

Hey everyone, just wanted to thank you all for giving my blog your support over the past couple of months. This will be my last post for 2024, so wishing everyone Happy Holidays and a great start to 2025!

[magnagaruzenmon]

Red Nose

A Christmas gift for @leafostuff

Despite me hoping onto the Chaehyun train late I think you solidified a lot of my love for this particular idol and while our realms and ideas don’t intersect. I wish you well.

I bumped into Chaehyun while she was wandering through the throng of guests, her eyes scanning every face anxiously. It was a little odd to see her here, knowing how hard it had been for both of you since the fallout. She looked like she’d rather be anywhere else, which only made me feel worse for her.

“Oh, Tiger, what’s wrong?” I asked, suppressing the urge to slip away to the guesthouse for a little longer. I wasn’t exactly eager to get involved, but her expression tugged at something in me.

She startled slightly at my voice, then relaxed when she saw me. “Oh, Rexy, it’s nice to see you.” Her tone was soft, like she was trying to mask something—whether it was nerves or sadness, I couldn’t tell. “Have you seen Mikey?”

I frowned. That was the last question I wanted to answer, especially from her. “No, I haven’t,” I admitted reluctantly. “But he was invited, so he’s got to be here somewhere, right?” I tried to sound reassuring, but even I wasn’t entirely convinced.

Chaehyun nodded, though it was clear my words hadn’t done much to ease her mind. “Could you… help me look for him?” she asked hesitantly.

Internally, I groaned. Babysitting an ex at a party was not on my evening’s agenda. But there was something in her voice, a vulnerability that made it impossible to say no. “Yeah, alright,” I said with a sigh, gesturing for her to lead the way.

We wove through the crowds, her small frame darting through gaps that I had to squeeze through. Chaehyun was quiet, her eyes darting around as if you might materialize out of thin air. After ten minutes of fruitless searching, she slowed, her shoulders slumping.

“You know what, Rexy? This was a mistake,” she said quietly. The weariness in her voice made my protective streak flare up.

“No, it’s not, Tiger,” I said firmly. “Let’s look a little longer.” And then, as if the universe finally decided to cut her some slack, I spotted him across the room. “Damn it—there he is.”

Chaehyun froze, her eyes following my gaze. When she saw him, her breath hitched. You were just leaving the bathroom, looking more polished than I’d expected—maybe you were hoping to run into her too. your eyes met, and everything around them seemed to blur, the noise of the party fading into silence.

I chuckled, stepping aside. “Go get ’em, Tiger,” I said, giving her a gentle push forward. She stumbled slightly but caught herself, throwing me a quick, grateful glance before she closed the distance between the two of you.

For a moment, I watched y'all, the air between you two charged with unspoken words. And then I turned away, heading toward the guesthouse. I figured I’d earned that quiet moment now.

Chaehyun looked at you nervously, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. There was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes as if she was summoning all her courage just to speak. Finally, she said softly, “You look nice.”

You nodded, your expression neutral. “You do as well.”

There was a beat of silence that stretched between you, thick with unspoken tension. She shifted on her feet, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. Then, taking a deep breath, she asked the question she dreaded but had to hear the answer to.

“Why did you storm off like that?”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise at her boldness. For a moment, you hesitated, weighing your words, but frustration from that day bubbled to the surface. “Hunny, you were cheating on me with Dinozen,” you said bluntly, your voice edged with a hurt you thought you’d buried.

Chaehyun blinked, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Cheating?” she repeated, almost incredulously. Then something clicked, and her face softened as the memory came rushing back. “No, not cheating. He was helping me get you a Christmas gift.”

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism clear in your expression. “Really? Prove it,” you demanded, crossing your arms.

She smiled faintly, reaching into her pocket to pull out her phone. “Here,” she said, holding it out to you. “Go through the texts. They’re all there.”

You took the phone warily, scrolling through the messages. What you found wasn’t what you expected. Line after line of texts between Chaehyun and Dinozen, discussing nothing but Pokémon strategies, trades, and gift ideas.

“Why do the two of you talk so much about Pokémon?” you asked, bewildered.

Chaehyun’s lips quirked into a sheepish smile. “I wanted to surprise you for Christmas by learning one of your favorite games,” she explained. “In all its forms—cards, games, whatever. Dino was helping me get a quick grasp so I didn’t look like an idiot. Also, can I just say that Pokémon is way more expensive than I thought it would be?” She sighed dramatically as if the memory of the prices alone was enough to drain her energy.

For a moment, you just stared at her, the tension in your chest loosening with every word. Then, unexpectedly, you burst out laughing—a warm, genuine laugh that made Chaehyun’s worried expression melt into relief.

“You’re serious?” you said, still chuckling. “You went through all of this just to surprise me?”

She nodded, her cheeks pink. “I wanted to make you happy. Dino was just helping me figure it all out.”

You shook your head, the last remnants of doubt fading away. “I can’t believe I let myself think the worst,” you admitted, the weight of the misunderstanding lifting from your shoulders.

Chaehyun reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing against your hand. “I should’ve explained sooner,” she said softly. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

You gave her a small smile, turning your hand to gently take hers. “And I should’ve trusted you,” you replied.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the two of you laughed together, the cracks in your relationship beginning to mend.

Chaehyun smiles as your hand finds her. "Can we go back home?" she asks softly. You notice her cherry nose and say,

"Sure Rudolph" the two of you head to your car that's covered in snow. Chaehyun ever determined hops into the driver seat and expertly navigates your way back home. When the two of you arrive. Chaehyun pounces on you excited beyond belief. You are a bit taken aback as she fervently kisses you up and down as the two of you enter your home.

"I need you," Chaehyun groans as she pushes you to the floor "NOW!" she growls as she lifts your shirt off and dives into your pants.

"Wow, the tiger really came out to play," you say before you watch Chaehyun tear into your pants.

"I HAVE NEEDED YOU FOR TWO WEEKS!!" she growls before freeing her sizable breasts from her bra and forcing you to grab onto them. As always she is delicately soft and pliant under your touch as you knead her mounds. She moans as she sinks into your cock. She groans as she begins to ride you. You moan as her walls clench you tight.

"Fuck! Did you get bigger?" she asks in the throes of pleasure, you chuckle then say,

"I think you got tighter," Chaehyun was about to scold you before you thrust into her causing you to hit her g-spot. She cums on the spot squirting all over you. When she recovers. she calms down and happily gets up. Her legs are a little wobbly but you steady her.

"let's continue this in the bedroom," she says

You smile and say, "Lead the way"

[keelt9]

DAHLIA

Masterlist

I slowly entered Joe's room while he’s still fully asleep, laid down at his left. I carefully light on the candle trying to make any sound, emphasis in trying because the lighter makes so much noise that Joe opens his eyes slowly.

“No.” I whisper but it’s useless. Joe is awake. “No, sleep, please.” I try to cover his eyes, making him giggle.

Joe grabs my hand over his eyes with a smirk on his face. “Ok, I can do that.” 

He pretends to fall asleep but inevitably laughs one second later. “Enough?”

I roll my eyes. “We can say that.” 

He opens his eyes, blinking, realizing on my other hand I had a small cake with a candle of Ness, his character from Super Mario.

“Happy birthday.” Joe laughs sitting on the bed.

“What is this?” It’s a small cake I made earlier in the morning trying to mute any sound of the kitchen, without counting the sound of the lighter. “This is great.”

He points to the candle. “Well, blow it up or it melted completely.”

Joe closes his eyes blowing the candle, making a wish.

“A good wish?” Joe nods, taking a small bite of his cake.

“Sorry, but if I tell you, it won't make it true.” Joe observes narrowing his eyes. “You have something on your face.”

“Where?” Joe approaches, catching my upper lip in a kiss. 

“Butter cream.” He licks his lips. “Yeah, it tastes really good.” 

I blink speechless as I grab my heated face with my free hand, hot like a bonfire.

“Let me try again.” He tries to kiss me one more time, my useless attempt to avoid it, ends in him grabbing the cake quickly, putting on the night table beside him with me under him on his bed.

Take a little bit of the buttercream putting on my lips, kissing me as he grabs my neck.

“Yeah, really good.” I giggle, giving him a small peck.

The sound of his alarm distracts us; Joe knows he must get ready for training.

“Save it for the bell.” He stands taking another bite of his cake. 

I sit watching him with dazzling eyes, as he goes to his closet.

“Guys are preparing a small dinner for my birthday, would you like to come?” I hissed. I met a few of his friends in casual conversation, this is another step.

“I have to travel home tonight.” Joe smiles leaning to me, grabbing his pink hoodie for don't fall over my face.

“I know, I know, it's my last attempt.” He kissed my forehead.

“Sorry.” I stand giving him a hug. “Happy birthday Joe.”

Although it is Joe's birthday; tomorrow it's my grandmother's birthday too, all the family are gathering to celebrate her. 85 years old is a big number. 

“Are you planning to come back before Christmas?” Joe starts to put all he could need inside of his bag. “You work for a place here, you know, it will be…”

“I'll try, I'm not promising anything, besides I've always been working remotely.” He laughs going to change his clothes.

“Before I forget.” He takes a paper bag. “Let's consider it as a previous Christmas gift.”

I opened the bag, a Bengal shirt with the number 9 on it.

I roll my eyes. “You don't have to look for it anymore, failing in the attempt.”

However, in the corner I notice something unusual next to his number. 

“Wait, wait, what is this?” I lift the shirt, pointing to the tiny orange heart, next to the big white 9.

Joe pretends looking at his phone. “I'm going late, let's go for breakfast.”

He pulls me from my hand going downstairs, giggling as a kid.

Before Christmas I had a special present for Joe. 

I got to be in Cincinnati a couple of days ago, however it is the second week they’re in a game out of home. Right now they're in Seattle after a bad loss, with a defense that has been imperceptible.

Joe seems disturbed in the press conference, still he texts me, hoping to arrive on time before I take my flight home.

He thinks I'll leave tonight to be on time and help my family before travelling to spend Christmas with my mother's mother.

“This is the last one.” Jason brings the last tray of food.

As Lilian sits on a chair. “I feel I could be arrested in any minute.”

I chuckle as I set in their place the last mistletoe.

“Ready!” I smile seeing around all the arrangements, happy with how everything is settled. “Now let's go, that I don't have so much time.”

I push them to the door not before taking the last look, it's perfect.

After a quick shower and changing my clothes, I just left myself enough time to drive back before Joe arrives from Seattle.

All should be according to the plan with my “little” helpers. 

And it was, as I kept waiting for a couple well-known voices, that I heard at the entrance.

“Come on guys, this could wait.” Joe complains. “Y/N leaves tonight, I haven't seen her in weeks, and I really want to say goodbye to her.”

“Joe, this mustn't wait, it's urgent.” Tee said, even though he sounds tired, his voice is cheerful.

I heard them opening the crystal door of the training camp, but I know they just make sure Joe gets inside before leaving.

“The lights aren't even turned on!” Joe screams as I light on.

“Merry Christmas Eve Eve!” Joe blinks, getting used to the lights. 

When he does he smiles brightly tilting his head when he sees me in a green velvet dress and an elf hat..

“What is this?” He walks to me to hug me. “This is pretty amazing!”

I smile as I surround him with my arms. “And I make dinner.” I think for a second. “Sorry, we made dinner.”

“We?” Joe split, noticing the dinner set in a small table behind me.

“Lilian, Jason and me.” Joe grabs my hand as we walk close to the table.

“How did you get in?” Joe looks around seeing the Christmas lights hanging around a small area.

I pretend thinking. “You have good friends willing to help.” 

Tee, Ja’Marr and BJ helped me to convince Zac to intercede for me and get a special permission. 

“Should we?” Joe says with a bloated eyes but a side to side smile.

“Yeah of course.” I give him a small peek in his cheek.

The dinner is delicious, you can see it for the way Joe barely speaks until we finished.

“Delicious.” He cleaned the corner of his mouth. 

“Big thanks to my mom.” She guided us through all the cooking processes. 

Joe put his elbows over the table. “Why here?”

I scoff rolling my eyes. “Joe, do you know how many security cameras you have in your house?” 

He laughs. “A few.”

“A few, yeah, a few.” I take out a box under my chair. “Here.”

Joe giggles, his hands on his hair.

“What is this?” I smile seeing his cheek in a soft pink.

I tremble with fingers on the top of the box. “Don't get too excited, ok? It’s not a fancy thing.”

Joe clicks his tongue. “Damn.” For after, wink at me.

“Open it.” I smirk as he takes the upper part, tiling his head confused.

“I'm lost.” He takes another small box with twelve candles, small white candles.

I point to the box with the candles. “One candle, one wish. Simple as that.”

Joe and his rich laugh is music to my ears. 

“Can I begin?” Joe opened the box taking out one. 

“Now?” I cough for the surprise.

“Yeah now.” He digs in the big box and finds the matches. “I'm supposed to write on this.” 

He takes the small piece of paper tied to the candle and the pen, I nod. “If there is something I can help, let me know.” 

Joe smiles. “One more time, how many candles are there?” He keeps writing.

“Twelve.” He folded the small paper and carefully burned it.

“Then you owe me eleven wishes.” He winks at me, but I just point the ashes on the table. “Don’t worry, this is for me, to myself.”

I lean on the table giving him a small peck on his lips.

“Merry Christmas and happy new year Joe.” He has that naughty smile on his lips. 

He caresses my cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

On Christmas Day Joe made sure to send me a photo of the second candle with his wish written on it.

 >Eat well and keep healthy.

Like every year we spend Christmas in Buffalo, this year the cold and the snow are at their top.

Streets are covered in white, you need 3 minutes outside to be covered in a white cold veil. 

“So, darling, your mother and Collin said you've been quite happy, these months.” Grandma said as she took out the special cake that Collin loved from the oven. “A special reason?”

I finished cutting the last strawberries she will use for decorating. “It’s not a reason, grandma, it’s a person.”

Bad time to eat a strawberry that almost killed me. “A QB.” 

Grandma softly patted my back giggling. “There is a reason why Colin must be far away from wine, he tends to speak way too much.”

I take a sip of water thinking of a way to punish him as soon as he appears at the door.

“Ye…Yes. But, we’re just hanging around, dating, seeing how things work, it could be just a…” Grandma tilts her head as he takes out all the things she will need. 

“Darling, darling, how many times have I told you about your Grandfather and me?” She has that face of utter love.

They met in middle school, after grandpa helped her to hide from her friends in what seemed like a cringe double date; breaking his glasses on the way, for crashing with him as she covered her face walking outside the school.

“It’s not the same.” Grandma raises her hand so she can keep talking. 

“I fell in love with that guy with clear vision problems in less than 3 months, now look at us, happily married after 47 years.” She smiles proudly with a voice full of adoration.

The loud hit on the door with laughs from grandpa and Collin, makes her roll her eyes. 

“Sorry! We bought it!” Collin appears in the kitchen sweating covered in snow as dad and mom carry the boxes inside of the house.

“You didn’t go for a box of chocolate bars?” I asked Collin as he drank all my water.

“It's supposed to be! But Grandpa saw the discounts and said we’ll buy a few.” He makes quotation marks with his hands. “He bought one box; for you, one for me and one for mom and dad.”

“Collin!” Mom shouted for him from the door. 

He leans his head on my shoulder. “Did I mention their friends?.” He takes a deep breath. “Walking a meter on the snow it's like walking three miles.” 

His breathing is fast even you can see a big smile on his face. “I’m coming!”

He runs to the door leaving a trace of snow from the kitchen to the main door.

“See, how not falling in love with him?” Grandma smiles and grabs my hand. “What I am saying is, when the feelings are real time it doesn't matter; what you feel here.” She pointed to my heart. “And here.” Then to my head. “It’s the most important.”

I see Grandpa entering with three chocolates bars, one for grandma, one for me and one for him, kissing her head. 

“For you.” Grandpa takes out a dahlia from his coat. 

We came back just in time for I could see the last game of the year from the Bengals, a wonderful defense even though the offense was a little bit imprecise, work for getting them to keep the win in their home.

But for Joe that wasn’t enough, you can see for the twisted lips at the end of the press conference. 

“You’ll have a full week to make an adjustment. Don’t be so hard on you.” I called Joe when he texts me he’s in his home. 

Joe nods and as he leans on the couch, nodding avoiding my eyes through the video call. 

“Joe?” He sighs and sees the camera nod one more time. “Now, please, stop pulling your fingers.”

He giggles. “I’m tired, sorry.” He put his hand on his neck moving around his head.

“It’s ok, go and rest, I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?” I stand on my bed wanting so badly to be with him but he needs a little bit of space.

“What a way of ending the year with me, huh?” I scoff as he gets down his head, pulling his finger one more time.

“It couldn’t be better.” He saw the camera with a surprise expression. “I mean it.”

The knock on my door as Collin stays in the door distracted me. 

He scrunched his face when he noticed I’m on a call. “Sorry Y/N, but it’s time.”

I nod, tonight one of my father's best friends invited us for a last dinner before New year.

I smile at Collin before he goes out of my room. “Well, time to go, too.”

I stand on the bed, ready to hang out the video call, searching for my coat.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second, let me see you.” Joe takes his phone like he could see it more in detail.

Switching the camera in front of my mirror Joe can see me; wearing a cute black dress, a Christmas present of Lilian.

“No way.” I can see Joe hiding his face on a pillow. “You look… whoa.” 

Feeling shy and adored, that’s all I can say.

“Y/N! We’re going late!” Dad passed in front of my room screaming. 

Joe mumbled a couple of things that I couldn’t hear. “Sorry, text you later, bye.”

As we get in the car Joe sends a photo with the third candle and the note.

 >See you in person. ❤️

Even though both of us knew we couldn't see each other before new year, it was still a little bittersweet situation. We have to settle with a quick call at midnight, under the mischievous eyes of my family observing me through the crystal door of the backyard. 

Next morning all of us wake up really late, with the appearance we just sleep one hour; by the time I get down to the kitchen dad is making coffee with his PJs on.

“Mom?” I take four cups from the counter regretting leaving my sweater on my bed.

“Trying to stay awake.” Both of us laugh, that laugh increases when Collin enters, messy hair closing his eyes as he hits the door of the kitchen. 

He put his hand over his forehead. “We should change that for a normal door, let’s get rid of the crystal door.”

Dad served three cups of coffee observing us sitting on the stool, with a smirk on his face. “Serving coffee, years ago, milk and cereal.”

“Dad!” Collin rolls his eyes. “It’s the first day of the new year, let’s not be sentimental.”

I push his arm. “Speak to the big, not sentimental boy.”

Collin cried yesterday, probably drunk as he remembered in a few months he will be far away from home.

“Whatever, Y/N, do you mind going to your grandparents' greenhouse?” Dad asked to take things for breakfast.

“Sure.” 

My grandparents have a greenhouse in the boundary of the city. We spent a lot of time during our childhood; they had an amazing place where Collin and I passed such beautiful moments.

He was learning and helping, I was just observing and paying attention to the details, notebooks on my lap, taking notes.

I arrived around 7 pm, all the lights, most of them turned off.

I knocked before getting in, just the lights of the main office turned on, they left a small note.

 >We're in the one next to the big three.

I perk through the window seeing all the lights there on, I smirk, they love that place for sure.

As I walk the cold wind makes me shiver, but I notice something weird; the cold lights of always now are in warm lights.

“What are you do…” My words stuck in my mouth when I saw the lights coming from the back of the greenhouse.

As I walk in, small bouquets of flowers are situated along the main corridor, I narrow my eyes taking in one, it took me a couple of seconds realizing the bouquets are conformed of heartseases, opium poppies, bignonias and marigolds.

As I keep walking, I realize the back curtain is slightly open; the warm light coming from that spot, so I removed it carefully. 

He is there. 

Joe is standing surrounded by flowers and Christmas lights.

“Happy new year.” He smirks, extending his arms. 

Raising my hands full of bouquets he rolls his eyes. 

“I don't think about that.” Both of us laughed as I gave him an attempt to hug.

“That's why you've been so quiet these days, huh?” Joe barely replay one text, my eyes seeing lights all over the place, I understand why.

“Such nice people are your grandparents” I see a small table where I can leave all the bouquets. “And Collin that helps a lot too.”

That explains why my grandparents didn't call right away as they saw or heard Joe Burrow. “I couldn't make the dinner, I owe you that.”

“I feel lucky enough, I imagine you have been locked in the building since the very first hours of the day.” I put all my bouquets so I can have my arms free.

“Ha ha ha, so funny.” Joe clicks his tongue. “Come here please, I need your help.”

“Another wish? I can do that.” Joe narrows his eyes. “I'm in a row, 2 of 2.”

“That confident?” Joe nods.

I touch my jacket. “I'm healthy and warm and you already saw me.” 

“I mean wearing that black dress.” Tilting my head Joe bit his lips.

“Believe me Joe, you have to work a little bit harder to see that dress.” I know I pinch his pride for the way he pouts.

“Sounds like a bet. I like that.” He shakes his head and focuses one more time. 

Turning around he takes a small box. “You should light one candle, you know?”

“Omg, could you just open it?” I laughed, enjoying seeing him so exasperated.

I take the lid and see a small crystal ball, I scoff, imagine another flower, to my surprise it's just the small paper of the candle inside of it. 

“What is this? Should I break it?” Joe chuckles, twisting around the ball to open it. 

I unfold it, the number five in the corner.

 >Please say yes.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Joe asked, making my eyes focus on his face. 

My heart is beating fast enough to cloud any coherent answer.

“I know you probably think this isn't a serious thing, but for me this is so real, we just met for a short time, and… you have been a breath of fresh air every time I see you.” Joe scratches his chin. “I love flowers isn't a secret… you know what Ja’Marr asked me when a month passed since I met you?”

I shake my head. “Joe, how many flowers do you need?” Joe takes my hands one more. “My house was full of flowers, a bouquet in every corner, still, it takes me a lot to reach this point.”

“Joe… I… It's…” Dammit I can't form a phrase.

Joe squeezed my hand smiling at me. “Tak..”

“Where are the fourth and fifth candles?” I hit my temple on my mind. Really that's my answer?

Joe looks to his right at a small table, two candles are burning slowly with a gold glow.

“My fourth wish is please that I don’t shutter so much as I speak.” I cover my face with the crystal ball as I whisper. “What? I don't understand you.” 

“Oh my. Yes!” Joe takes the ball off my face. “Yes, yes, yes! A thousand times yes.” 

I jumped to hug him, he quickly lifted me from the ground, kissing me.

“No, no, put me down.” He raised his eyebrows. “I want to have a healthy QB to hug when you win the championship.”

“You're so...” I shut him down, kissing him tenderly. 

“I guess I have to rush all my preparations” My useless attempt to go down failed one more time.

“Rush?” I side eye to him as I notice dahlia between the small lights, so accurate, after all we are making a compromise.

I surround his neck with my arms. “I was thinking of moving to Cincinnati after summer.”

His eyes move from my lips to my eyes. “Now probably, just probably think of doing it sooner.”

Joe cleared his throat. “You know if you need a place to stay, I can make you a space in my house.” 

I give him a small peck, feeling his grip on my thighs trembling, not for the lack of strength just because he's trembling.

“Mhm, what about for quite a long time? I don't want to be the third wheel with Lilian.” Joe laughs, his rich laugh.

“Right, that will be awkward.” He fakes thinking. “Are you a good roommate?” 

I hit his chest softly. “You won't have any complaints.” 

One more kiss, this time more saccharine and consuming; I understand now what Lilian said, it's like we built a world just for us.

“I love to have you with me.” Joe smiles right to my lips.

I kiss his forehead. “Deal.” 

What a way of beginning the year, after all Mr. McNeil has right after all, love comes right through our door

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

A/N: Omg, I just took a more detailed view to the full series and I’m blown away by the response. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed from the very first flower until the last. 🌸

I’m preparing something… special? or at least that's what I believe, anyway, wait for it! 

I’ll write to you soon!🍒

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 78: Oliver's Awakening

Previous > Masterlist

tw: aftermath of mind control, discussion of abuse

October 1925

Oliver writhed on the ground, his chest as tight as a drum and tears squeezing from his eyes, as all the fear and pain and shame that had been suppressed the past few months flooded him.

He'd been content, so content to give up his own life to become the servant of a vampire, hardly even struggling as he was taken and confined and ensorcelled. He'd enjoyed the vile feedings, looking forward to the vampire drinking away his blood, pleased to slump over in the vampire's arms as his life was drained, satisfied with the twin scars on his neck. He'd cheerfully allowed the vampire to pass him around like a party favor to his lover, to curl up around him as he slept, to dress him up in ball gowns and take him to vampire dens to show off…

But truly, it wasn't the shame that hurt the most -- that was just the easiest of his emotions to understand. No, the worst of it was the profound sense of emptiness. It was if Alexander's music had filled something within him he hadn't known was empty. It had given him a purpose, even if it was to follow the selfish whims of a monster, and now he was devoid. Knowing intellectually that it had never been a real purpose, just enslavement, didn't ease the sting of his heart.

Vivian crouched down and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Oliver, I know it's a lot to process. It might take days or weeks --"

"You don't know!" Oliver wrenched backwards to get away from her, furious. "You don't know what you just took. You can't!"

"I know it must hurt --"

"If you knew it would hurt like this, then why did you do it against my wishes?" Oliver demanded.

"Oliver!" Emily was standing nearby. "She was just trying to help. It's not fair to yell at her like that."

"It's not fair that I feel like this!"

"Leave him alone," said Vivian. "Let him scream at me if he wants. He's coming out of a much deeper enthrallment than you were in, Emily. It won't be easy."

"That's not true," she said indignantly. "I could barely talk, couldn't remember my past, wasn't even literate any more."

"Yes, and that's relatively easy for a vampire to do. What's been done to Oliver is far more precise and insidious, to keep him so intact on the surface while bending his desires and loyalties completely."

"Do you mind talking about me as though I'm not even here?" Oliver hated how angry he was, how he couldn't control the harshness of his voice. He was never angry, never so much as raised his voice at a difficult customer, not before he was captured. Even then, his anger had been weak, easily plucked out of his head by that damned Miss Lily. He felt sick to think of himself drowsing in her company, letting her rummage through his very mind, throw out anything she didn't like, and replacing his truth with a pretty painted facade.

"I'm sorry," said Vivian. "I know you're upset with me, but this is important. Can you still feel the connection with your former master?"

"No. It's been severed. I can't hear him anymore."

"That's good. With a vampire that powerful, it's likely that your connection is actually only weakened, not entirely destroyed. He may try to enter your head again, draw you under his sway."

Oliver nodded, ashamed that a part of him hoped he would, that Alexander's music would dull the pain. No, he would have to resist somehow. He couldn't go through all of this heartache for no reason, to go merrily skipping back into the arms of a vampire. Vivian's magic had stripped away the illusion, revealed the monster behind the handsome face.

"I'll try to resist," said Oliver shakily.

"Good, that's good. If you hear his voice, you need to tell me immediately, all right? I can help protect you, or wash out his influence again if we need to," she said. "It's my fault for not killing him when I had the chance. I was a coward. And now I'll have to plan to go after him again, before he hunts me down."

"Don't kill him!" Oliver's fervor surprised even him.

"Oliver, you'll never be safe until I do."

"I know that, but -- I don't want him to die. Maybe I should want him to die, maybe I'm still under his spell, but I can't bring myself to want him to die," he said, not understanding why he felt so strongly about this when he knew Alexander's true nature.

"He took you from your bookshop, remember?" said Emily. "The whole time we were in those cages -- at least, before Lily warped our minds -- that's all you could talk about, was your bookshop and how you had to return there. Don't you want to?"

His bookshop, and the tiny apartment above. His little safe haven, where he'd spent his entire life. The antique books locked behind the counter, the sagging shelves of the history section, the ratty armchair with the throw blankets that might still be waiting for him.

"I can't go back there," he said. "Alexander was one of my customers. He'd find me easily."

"That's why I have to kill him," said Vivian.

Mounting horror dawned on Oliver. "But even if you did kill him, it wouldn't do any good, because his sire would find out and hunt us both down. I'm sure of it."

"His sire? A vampire that powerful, and he's still beholden to his sire?"

"He's a terrifying vampire." The fear, which had been acute before, was now so much more sharp without Alexander's soothing influence. He could remember the feel of harsh fangs in his neck all too well, the panic of being unable to open his eyes. "Far more terrifying than Alexander could ever be. Alexander once told me that if we ever tried to escape him, he'd hunt us both down and make sport of it, and I believe him."

"It can't be…" Vivian muttered. "Tell me more about him, your former master's sire."

As much as Oliver didn't care to recall those memories, Vivian might actually be able to help. "I'll tell you whatever information I have. I'd be happy to see him die, and Alexander would, too. I don't know his real name, but they all call him the Maestro --"

"You've met him?" She gripped his shoulders like a madwoman. "You've actually met the Maestro?"

"Unfortunately, yes. You've heard of him?"

"He took my mother. He's the vampire I need to kill more than any other. You must tell me everything you know about him."

"I'm sorry about your mother," he said. "I can tell you everything I've learned about him, if you agree that you won't kill Alexander."

"Even if I were convinced you truly meant that and it wasn't just residual conditioning, I couldn't agree to that. Alexander is likely to come after me for taking you, and if he does, I need to be able to defend myself."

"I suppose that's true," said Oliver reluctantly. He didn't want to admit to himself that it would be ideal if Vivian were to kill the Maestro but spare Alexander, so that he would have the option of returning to the vampire without the threat of his sire hanging over their heads.

No, he must still be under the spell. He shouldn't return to Alexander under any circumstances, not if he wanted to keep a free thought in his head.

"You need to tell me," Vivian insisted. "Revenge on the Maestro is one of the main reasons I became a hunter in the first place. It wasn't just my mother who suffered. He's killed at least twenty hunters, and he's believed to have kidnapped a number of musicians and stage performers. He needs to be stopped."

"He does." Oliver sighed, feeling that tiny bit of leverage slip. "All right. I'll tell you what I know."

He tried to recall everything he could for Vivian's sake -- everything Lex had told him, and especially recounting his own experiences with the cruel vampire. Emily sat nearby, her eyes going wide with horror as Oliver described his blinding and the painful feeding. Vivian, on the other hand, was absorbing all of Oliver's words carefully.

"So when he controlled you -- was there any sort of induction he had to perform? Any conditions he had to meet?"

"I don't think so, or at least I don't remember any. Alexander didn't mention any either. He was able to puppet my body as easily as if I were a toy, and there didn't seem to be any way to resist it."

"Hm. That's going to be trouble," said Vivian, deep in thought. "And when he stopped you from opening your eyes again -- how long did it take for that enthrallment to wear off?"

"It didn't. The next day, Alexander took me to Miss -- to another vampire's home, one that specializes in hypnotizing humans, and she reversed the Maestro's command."

"A specialist in hypnotizing humans? Lily?"

"You know her too?"

"Yes, I'm aware of her."

"Are you going to kill her, too?"

"I really should, considering how many people's minds she's destroyed -- or are you going to defend her as well?"

"…No." Truthfully, he felt more conflicted about it than he should, given that Vivian was objectively correct. How many human minds had she stolen? How many lives had she cut short, selling innocent people off to vampires with nothing more than glee about her profits? She was the one who had twisted his mind, and all those feelings of comfort and warmth as he slept in her chair were nothing more than lies to keep him docile.

"So do have any idea where the Maestro lives?"

"No, I'm sorry. Those are the only two times I encountered him, and Alexander never mentioned where he lives, from what I can recall."

Vivian sighed. "It's a pity. But even so, you've given me far more information than I had yesterday, and I'm grateful for it."

"You know… both you and Alexander want the Maestro dead. Could you ever consider working together?" asked Oliver.

"Working with a vampire?"

"Only this one specific time, only to kill an even worse vampire!"

"I can't do that," said Vivian. "Even if we do have the same goal. Fighting a vampire as formidable as the Maestro would leave me vulnerable, and I can't trust that this Alexander wouldn't simply enthrall me afterwards. In fact, he'd be stupid not to, lest I kill him."

Oliver wanted to protest that Alexander wouldn't do that… except that Alexander might actually do that. After all, he had no qualms at all about buying a human at auction, even a human he previously knew as an equal. Why would he hesitate to enthrall a hunter?

"Come on," said Vivian, helping him off the floor. "We can talk more about this later. You've been through a lot tonight, and need more time to shake off the spell you've been under. We have a room that you can use, but I'm going to have to lock you in, and keep you under surveillance for now, at least until we're sure that your vampire isn't going to try and push himself into your head again."

"Fine," he said, accepting that Vivian didn't trust him. He didn't even trust himself. "Why can he still do that, if you've undone the enthrallment?"

"There's a psychic connection established when a vampire drinks your blood. It's not quite the same thing as enthrallment, and it can be very strong. It fades in days or weeks, but until then, you'll still be vulnerable to the vampire's influence."

"I see." He wondered if that applied to any vampire which had fed from him. If it did, that meant -- "But the Maestro, he…"

"Yes," she said grimly. "Has he ever entered your mind before, when he's not there in person?"

"I don't think so. I hope not."

"I hope not either. I'm not prepared to fight him just yet. If you sense anything, you need to tell me right away."

"Yes, of course."

Vivian led Oliver out of the attic and into a room little bigger than a closet, with a cot and a small chest of drawers. "You should get some rest," she said, herding Oliver inside. "You'll feel better once you have. Is there anything you need?"

"A glass of water, please?" asked Oliver, sitting on the edge of the cot. "And if you have any interesting books…"

"Certainly. I'll see what I can do."

Oliver waited patiently for Vivian to return with the water and a couple of old magazines. As soon as she left the room and he heard the lock click shut, he fell back onto the bed, knowing that he wouldn't even be able to concentrate on reading, not with all the thoughts crowding his head.

He was free.

Wasn't he?

It was terribly hard to feel free when he was locked into a small room, the threat of his vampiric master and his sire still hanging over his head like an executioner's axe. The confinement was for his own safety, and he understood the reasons, but he wouldn't actually be free until both Alexander and the Maestro had ceased to walk the earth.

He was frustrated with himself. He shouldn't care so much about the well-being of a vampire who had literally purchased him at auction. And yet…

Now that the initial shock and fear had worn off, he was finding himself gripped by a deep and profound sadness. The cot he lay on was hard and cold, and he couldn't suppress his longing for his bed at home -- no, Alexander's bed. It wasn't ever his. He'd been hypnotized to share it, to cuddle up with a monster.

He'd been hypnotized into affection.

And it was really the only affection he'd had since he was a child, wasn't it? He'd lived such a solitary and quiet life, spending almost every night alone in his small apartment with books for company. Even the simple pleasure of curling up to read next to someone else had been foreign to him until he came into Alexander's possession.

And it had all been a fabrication meant to keep him compliant, hadn't it? He shouldn't miss it. He should be glad to be rid of it.

But the thought of returning to his solitary life, of never experiencing actual tenderness, was crushing him inside. He'd been starving for so many years, but it had been bearable when he didn't know what he was missing. Now that he knew that his choice was between actual loneliness and false companionship, he could only be ashamed at the parts of himself which preferred the lie.

No, he had to press on somehow. He couldn't return himself to a monster, no matter how charming. He should be happy to be freed. He could have his own life back. He could sleep during the night and wake during the day, and walk in the sunshine, and choose to go wherever he pleased.

He could take what little money he had stashed in his bookshop and take a train out of town, or a boat overseas, see the new places that he dreamed about but never got around to visiting. He could start his life over, do something else with it. Live a fuller life in the here and now rather than wait in his lonely little bookshop, wait for something to happen to him. Something had happened to him, and it should have taught him a lesson about choosing what he wants before it's chosen for him.

It was exhilarating. But…

For all his newly gained freedom, he still had no idea what he actually wanted. The desire for fangs in his neck was fake, but at least it was a clear desire. What did he want before, apart from books and safety? And who was he now, now that he knew the dangerous world of the supernatural lurked just behind every streetlamp, just waiting to pull him into it?

Previous > Masterlist

Next week: Oliver is not as free as he might have hoped.

I'll also have a Christmas-adjacent self-indulgent vampire story up tomorrow, so please keep an eye out! And vote in the holiday edition of Sedation Vending Machine!

Thanks for reading this story another year, and happy holidays!

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@vampiresprite @irregular-book @whumpsoda @und3ad-mutt

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump @tippytappytyping @natthebatt @fire-bugg14

@fuckcapitalismasshole @slightlydisturbedbeans @paperprinxe @demetercabingreen-thumb @the-broken-pen

@pokemaniacgemini @jumpywhumpywriter @basica11ywhumped @anoontjecanush @cepheusgalaxy

@whump-me-harder @whump-till-ya-jump @the-monarch-whumperfly @ium1naryy @wumpbean

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Actually for the recent dreams, I figured Deuce doesn't really want to go back to being a delinquent but he does think things were easier so he somewhat wishes things were still like that (wasn't he somewhat considered an honor student with. whatever weird standarts the school had in his dream? i don't remember)

For Cater.... It did feel kinda relevant that he didn't know why he dreamt of that, actually. I wouldn't know how so exactly... Like idk the fact even then he doesn't want Riddle to know? Someone suggested he masks so much he doesn't even know what he actually wants (which broke me a little). Also I will be overthinking the fact his first flashback was triggered by Trey saying he'll take care of everything thank you. Overall I still hope he'll get more character moments in the next dreams (trey dream save me) but it's probably wishful thinking.

I guess convenience would make sense for Deuce's dream...? I feel like the same thing could be achieved by making him an actual honors student (while also dumbing down the materials to make it more suitable for his current level of academic understanding). Still, I can't help but feel that the devs took the former route (again, despite Deuce not actively longing for his delinquent days) because the dreams are really just excuses to show us concepts that have been teased for a while (like king!Leona, Savanaclaw!Rook, or delinquent!Deuce) for fanservice.

I definitely felt that Cater's dream was quite wonderlandiful in spirit and a mishmash of various "fun" elements. If it was an issue of him not knowing his own identity due to so frequently masking, I feel like they should have better hinted at it throughout the dream like they did with Deuce. As it currently stands, I'm not sure if they did a good job of leading us to that conclusion. It only makes sense if you extrapolate it or bring in outside details, such as waaay earlier in book 7, where Cater expressed not knowing what he wanted to do for his fourth-year internship(s), or bring in events/vignettes, like how Cater gives superficial and fake wishes to the Star Sending every year.

I don't think it's strange that Cater doesn't want Riddle to know about the contents of his dream. If anything, it's sort of expected. Cater's the type that dislikes confrontation and wishes to avoid his dorm leader's wrath at all times. If Riddle heard about Cater's chaotic version of Heartslabyul and how lenient dream!Riddle was about all of it, Cater would surely lose his head 😭

I hope that we get something more meaningful out of Cater when he comes with us to Trey's dream... Maybe something addressing how he longs for Trey's companionship but can't bring himself to just... be open about it. After all, Cater has expressed on more than one occasion that he lowkey desires this and to be heard out by TREY specifically. Trey is the one person who consistently noticed Cater's fakeness. And, of course, a memory of Trey thanking him is the first vision Cater has when he begins to question the reality of his dream.

[archaiceuphoriah]

TW for ED and purging.

Another chilly day, perfect for couch cuddles; right little one? Why don't you come sit with me for a bit? No, you're not in trouble, but I think you know that we need to talk. Shhh, come here, come here and sit down. You know Mama won't judge you, but she is worried. She has noticed you're eating less...then sometimes more...and then going away to hide. It's okay, you can cry. These are some big feelings my little one is having. There's nothing to be ashamed of. What you do helps you feel in control, makes life is a little less scary, right? M-hmmm, that's understandable. But Mama would like for us to sit together and work through those fears and maybe find a better solution. I know, it's not an easy fix. Mama wishes she could just give you a big hug and make it better. But for now, we can take it one day at a time. My sweet, brave little one. You don't have to do this alone.

(To the person who requested this, I hope you are taking care of yourself and that in some small way this helps. I have loved ones in my life who struggle with this as well; you're not alone <3).

[garmrheim]

🎄Santaphale Au collection🎄

Hello! ive had this in my draft forever now and its DUE TIME to make this and post it since ive gotten questions about the au and while i make art theres amazing other creators that has helped built it up in the sandbox and while i make art theres (as of now) three fics from the same universe posted on Ao3 that follows Aziraphale and Crowley in different points in their life. ------

For those that are wondering- the short introduction to it is that the Santaphale universe began over on discord with a handfull of friends that banded together to spin up an elaborate and extensive story featuring Crowley (she/they) around her late 30s in the beginning of the story and down the line she stops aging around her late 40s/early 50s and becomes immortal along with Aziraphale (he/him) , who (looks to be) around 50. He is of half human/elfin nature that makes him a cryptid of his own right with the power he weilds as The Spirit of Hope Through Darkness, Guardian of Childhood Wishes, the God of Winter Gifts, king of the northern elves, also called Sinterklaas or Santa Clause (Thank you salt for that perfect row of titles ) They met on a Christmas night when Aziraphale visits Crowley’s home while delivering presents and after a passionate night, departs after giving her a silver bell with summoning magic to ring if she wants to see him again. Crowley goes to bed, then wakes up thinking it was all a dream til she meets a familiar face a few months later and cue a lovely romance! They later come to live in the North Pole for the second half of every year, and eventually they end up having a small bunch kids that they love and adore and the art and fic follows this entire journey and so much more.

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This will be updated if and when new stuff is added just because i like having it all in one place and id like if you that are introduced to the au with my art has a way to get more! as of right now (december 2024) theres 3 fics published that belongs to this au and i will post their links and information below! i can highly recommend it as they are made by two of the most talented people i know and dear friends that im so happy to share this Santaphale sandbox with along with all the pals in our server hello! i adore you too! Any art that relates to Santaphale that ive done can be found on Bluesky now since i moved completely from twitter. its over on my Family oriented acc called VanadisHeim (that IS 18+ because theres also adult content there) the occasional Santaphale can also be found on my main account called GarmrHeim and any additional art made by my fellow cocreators that is published will also be added here! ✨ Have fun and enjoy! 🎄✨

''Silver bells'' @vaguely-demonic (Vaguelydemonic on Ao3) silver bells (5938 words) by vaguelydemonic Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Magic, First Meetings, Crush at First Sight, She/Her and They/Them Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), She/Her Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), They/Them Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale (Good Omens) as Santa Claus, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Santa Kink, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Coming Untouched, Coming In Pants, Mildly Dubious Consent, (previous tag clarified in author's note!), Crowley is vision impaired, Oral Sex, Christmas Smut Summary: It was Christmastime in the city and Mx. Antonia J. Crowley had resigned herself to yet another Christmas spent alone. Like everyone else, all she wanted was to live in a fairy tale world where she could just have her deepest desire purely because she wanted it: a nice big house somewhere quiet and far from the city, a partner to live out her days with, a happy family that loved her as much as she loved them. She'd come to the conclusion many, many failed relationships ago that what she wanted simply wasn't in the cards for her. Instead, her Christmas plans would once again be her, her ragged tabletop tree with a single ornament, and a bottle of wine to help her find sleep… Until there arose such a clatter and Crowley stirred from the sofa to see what was the matter. With a welcome so calm, collected, and pleasant, Crowley finds someone there in her living room, seeking to deliver a present. ------------------------------------------------- '' A Gift to us both '' @definitionsfading (Blackeyedblonde on ao3)

a gift to us both (7376 words) by blackeyedblonde Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Magic, Christmas, Aziraphale (Good Omens) as Santa Claus, Christmas Smut, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, Domestic, He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), She/Her Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Age Difference, Romance, Kissing, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Breeding, Impregnation, Knotting, Crying, Confessions, Come Inflation, Mating Press, Pet Names, Tenderness, Aziraphale Has a Large Penis (Good Omens), Size Difference, Bearded Aziraphale (Good Omens), Babymaking, Soulmates, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Femme Crowley (Good Omens), Lingerie, Fluff and Smut, Ineffable Spouses, Cervix Penetration, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Sex Magic

Summary: “When you say Christmas ‘wish,’ does that mean a five thousand pound gift voucher to the Liberty store in London, or something more in the abstract?” Crowley asks, lightly tweaking the curl of Aziraphale’s mustache. “I need to know the technical parameters of what you’re offering, here.” Aziraphale hums around a little laugh but goes quiet for a few moments to consider the seriousness of what he’s proposing. “You are a passionate person with a good heart and boundless optimism despite the struggles you’ve faced in your life,” he says, stating it matter-of-factly because he considers it to be true. “I’m an unusual figure in the position to grant wishes where I’m able, whether they be material or miraculous. But I suppose what I wanted to hear, if you’d indulge me, was something closer to your heart’s most ardent desire.” Crowley opens her mouth and then closes it again. Azirapahle watches the line of her slender throat as she swallows. “You’re yanking my chain,” she says, laughing as she shakes her head. “Taking the full piss.” “I can assure you I’m not,” Aziraphale says. ______________________________________________________

''Merry&Bright'' @vaguely-demonic (Vaguelydemonic on Ao3)

merry & bright (6814 words) by vaguelydemonic Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Original Child(ren) of Aziraphale and Crowley (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Magic, Aziraphale (Good Omens) as Santa Claus, Established Relationship, He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), She/Her Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), They/Them Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Spouses, Childbirth, Mild Blood, Bodily Fluids, it's childbirth okay there's gonna be some amniotic fluid, Pregnancy, Chestfeeding, Breastfeeding, Premature Birth, Less than ideal birthing conditions, Christmas, Christmas Party, Family Fluff, ineffable parents, Pregnant Crowley (Good Omens) Summary: When Aziraphale returned to the North Pole at the end of another successful run of delivering toys to the children of the world, the comfort of home was calling his name. A fire crackling away in the hearth. The promise of his beautiful family coming together for their grand holiday celebration later that evening. Crowley waiting sleepily for his late night return so he could slip into bed beside her and rest his palm over her belly, where their newest baby was nearly ready to join them. Truly, there was nothing more he could ever ask to come home to. Crowley and the baby had other ideas. Aziraphale had spent all night delivering gifts to others. It was Crowley's turn to deliver their own Christmas gift, away in a manger.

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TO BE CONTINUED ✨

🎅🤶 👦👧👩🧒🧒👧👧🧒 🎄🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🎄

[heartcircus]

I love Mapicc and Derap’s bickering and mutual disdain, but god I wish there was someone in Mapicc’s corner who could like. Help give Zam a bit of perspective on how Derap is bending the narrative and painting Mapicc in a negative light to push Zam into choosing him bc Zam has to be the one defending Mapicc in every conversation and the more they have the more it feels like Zam’s resolve is shifting. The fact that Derap is kind of unchallenged here is like. Miserable. I don’t hate Derap but I do want things to fall apart for him bc he is just making this so much worse and Zam needs to talk to someone else. I hope Pangi tells him Derap invited him. I hope Mapicc stalks one of their conversations and gets the chance to defend himself. Planet saying Mapicc was Zam’s bestie and Zam getting choked up and just repeating “yeah” was like. Such a good moment. Reminding Zam of what they were. Can we get another girltalk if we’re doing season 4 i think we should bring back girltalk (this probably will not help). Can someone defend my dog I don’t care if he’s in the wrong I just want someone to make it clear he’s not the only one in the wrong

yeah, i definitely agree, mapicc does need someone in his corner and it's unfortunate that there's really just . no one . i don't know whether or not it's intentional that derap is pushing for zam to choose him over mapicc, in my opinion it could go either way, but i don't think he's going to like the answer he'll inevitably end up getting (that it's mapicc. it's always mapicc.).

i'm also in the same boat as you towards atlas lmao i like them, i find them cute, but i definitely think they're due for some confrontation/contestation over how derap talks to zam. even aside from mapicc, he tells zam a bunch of half-truths despite constantly reiterating that he Never lies to zam. like, the whole 'pangi found zaun on his own' thing was so weird because i don't really think zam would've been all that mad if derap just told him he showed pangi the place ? it's just a bunch of little things like that which will eventually add up over time

i'm a big devotioner, i love those guys, and as much as i love seeing them at odds with one another this time it's just so painful. it's something about seeing them both Refuse to fight one another and making that rather clear but still being unable to work together. they're just stuck at this god-awful crossroads and i can't wait for their time to come back around, whatever that means, just as long as they're together again.