#merry christmas to those who celebrate today!

[gendryamas]

by @thatsaysalotalotalot

Christmas Eve: Gendry

If the Fates Allow

If anyone had told 22 year old Gendry Waters that the gangly 17 year old best friend he said goodbye to when she left for university in Braavos would return four years later a stunningly beautiful, accomplished woman, he would have laughed in their face. 

But here he stood with the unmistakable proof smiling at him from across the ballroom at the Stark's annual Christmas Eve party. As he strode across the dance floor, sweeping her into a tight embrace, he felt her return his hug with equal passion. Though he'd spent Christmas with the Starks for years, he suddenly realized that this year was different, the woman before him was different, and his feelings were definitely different.  He promised himself he would never let her go again. 

[smellygooberalert]

merry dirkjohnmas... (its christmas eve)

heres a quick &shitty dirkjohn!!!! ^_^

[spshipstats]

Quick question: what are the stats on Tammy Warner x Kenny?

SP Ship Stats: Kenny McCormick x Tammy Warner

at 124 responses:

44.35% of people ship Kenny x Tammy

55.65% of people don't ship Kenny x Tammy

of those who ship it:

27.27% think it's popular

43.64% think it's uncommon

27.27% think it's a rarepair

1.82% have never heard of it before

Chart with a more specific break down below the cut! Thanks for requesting a ship!

[saturnisfallingdown]

WOO WOO YEAH

[mysticfemme]

it's a week since she dumped me after cheating on me 🙃👍

[1-seth-a-day]

[eurovisionart]

Seid Memić Vajta - Lejla

[astrqnomy]

Merry Christmas!<3

[rossithepixie]

My head hurts and feels as if it's been stuffed with cotton. All i want are cuddles and maybe hot chocolate while a muppets christmas carol plays in the background.

[einaudis]

I'm completely sober and somehow I feel the urge to send a message I shouldn't send. Don't believe people who say you only do stupid things when you're drunk.

[gendryamas]

by @thatsaysalotalotalot

Christmas Morning: Arya

Let Your Hearts Be Light

If anyone had told 17 year old Arya Stark that she would spend her first Christmas morning home from four years studying in Braavos naked in her childhood bedroom with her best friend and forever crush, she would have laughed in their face. 

But here she was, lying in bed with the unmistakable proof nestled against her, pulling her even closer. As she peppered soft kisses across his chest, she felt him sigh into her hair. Though he'd been a part of her family's Christmas for as long as she could remember, she suddenly realized that this year was different, the man holding her was different, and her feelings were definitely different.  She promised herself she would never let him go again. 

[dearinglovebot]

breaking normal posting to say: merry christmas to those who celebrate. i make a point of keeping this blog fandom focused, but i am palestinian. from a place not far from bethlehem; where jesus was born and where this holiday began. but today, bethlehem is under military occupation. today, on christmas, bethlehem was bombed.

if you enjoy my jokes and posts, or if christmas means something special to you, i humbly ask you consider including bethlehem in your holiday giving. ANERA provides necessity like food and mattresses to palestinian refugees. PRCS provides critical medical care. CFG is a gaza-based grassroot collective which gives necessities to the community. thank you.

[brandwhorestarscream]

This post is now a support group for anyone having to see bigoted family since today is Christmas

You're wonderful and well loved and no matter what your relatives say, you're perfect just the way you are 💖 you can make it through this

[eddies-ashtray]

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, here’s Eddie jerking off to the thought of you <3 (18+ ONLY)

***

It had started somewhat innocently. Well, as innocently as this could get. But still—Eddie hadn’t meant to let the thought slip into his mind while he gripped his cock in his hand, the combination of his pre-cum and spit acting as a lubricant to create that delicious, toe-curl-worthy slide.

When normally he would be perusing one of his dirty magazines, right now Eddie didn’t need—didn’t want—any of them. All he needed, all he wanted, was the thought of you.

Who could blame him though? His best friend was just so pretty. And today she’d worn that red skirt that drove him wild, made his head spin and his cock twitch in his jeans. But the worst part? She wore black socks that reached a few inches above her knees, showcasing a sliver of the pretty, soft dough of her thighs.

That’s what had made him desperate to get a hand around himself. A part of him felt ashamed for it. For thinking of her this way. But, God, it felt too good to stop. Any restraint he might have usually embodied was smashed to bits the moment you had showed up at his doorstep that day.

And now? Now he was left alone. The entire trailer to himself. And all Eddie could do the moment you’d left was touch himself to the thought of you. Of your gorgeous, biteable thighs.

Eddie’s grip on his cock tightened just slightly on an upstroke, causing him to groan, deep and needy. The image of your thighs pressing together flashed in his mind, pulling another unrestrained moan from his throat as he ran his thumb over the deep red tip.

Continuing his quick rhythm, the filthy, wet sound intensifies as his tip leaks more sticky pre-cum. Eddie’s free hand descends down his body to roll his balls in hand briefly. He lets out an honest to God whimper, incredibly sensitive.

Again, your thighs cross his mind, and all he can think about is licking them, biting them, marking you up with dark bruises. Later being able to casually reach over and grip the flesh of your thigh to make you squirm as he digs his fingers into the bruises he left. Eddie groans at the thought, head pushing back into the pillow below his head restlessly. He desperately needs to bury his face between your thighs, their fat pushing against either side of his head, muffling the world around him.

And then, of course, Eddie thinks of the worst—best—thing of all. He thinks about being in his exact position—laying back on the bed—, except you’d be on top of him, hovering over him. Kneeling so your thighs are on either side of his head, sinking down until he has his mouth on your wet cunt.

“Fuck,” Eddie drawls, hand impossibly speeding up over his cock. He’s close, closer than he’d thought. But, he guesses, this is what you do to him.

You’d have your thighs on either side of his head, your cunt being devoured by Eddie’s hungry mouth, and he’d snake his arms around your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer, wanting you to invade his every sense. Rob him of feeling, seeing, tasting anything else. He’d be happy to only ever be able to feel, see, and taste you forever. Take anything you want from him. Ride his face while he tongues at your puffy clit, licks you out, and laps at your cunt like he’s starving for it. Because he is. He needs it more than he needs oxygen. Needs your thighs around his head, needs to lick you and mark you and make you cum and cum and cum until you can’t feel anything anymore.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Eddie moans, scratchy and weak as he cums, releasing over his fist and stomach, and he swears he sees stars exploding behind his eyelids. Tiny, bright pops of light as he releases with the thought of your lovely thighs around his head and your sticky cunt on his tongue. As he opens his eyes for the first time since he’d wrapped his fist around himself, he’s panting heavily. Looking down at himself, he finds the big, sticky mess he’s made, and groans, dropping his head back onto the pillow. Eddie imagines that if his desires were to become reality, he wouldn’t just see stars as he came, but galaxies.

***

PART 2

[zhongrin]

𒆙 deus auri

part 4/8 of ⎡∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺⎦, a zhongli 2023 birthday event

© zhongrin | 2023  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

𖧷 tags ┈ gn!reader, teeth-rotting fluff

𖧷 a/n ┈ merry christmas yall! i hope you're being surrounded by your loved ones today (be it physically or online). consider this a christmas gift from me to you <3

𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓊 ❬ masterlist ❭ 𐫱 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭

𝓃early everyone in your neighborhood knew of your secret admirer, yet no one knew of their actual identity.

they had their speculations, of course. the elders just love to tell you all about their theories whenever they spot you with yet another fresh yellow hibiscus on your person. perhaps it was the young man three houses away, since mrs. feng saw him stealing glances at you? oh, or maybe it was the lady who moved into the neighborhood a few months ago, since the timing matched with when you started receiving the flowers? no, no, it must have been the blacksmith’s child who was just the perfect age for marriage, or the widowed greengrocer who kept giving you discounts, or—

entertaining the musings of the older folks who had nothing better to do than gossip was not your specialty, so a forced laugh and an excuse later, you continued on your merry way, shaking your head with a breath escaping your lips as your fingers brushed the soft petal.

you used to keep the flowers in a vase or press them between book pages to dry them out, hoping to prolong their life, but these days you prefer to have it on you as you go about your day. sometimes you’d wear it on your hair, tucked behind your ear, or weaved around your wrist, and other times you’d slip it on your clothes, going as far as planning your attire around the bright yellow petals. and when the day ended, the bloom would have wilted, but you already knew that the next day, another fresh flower would appear right in front of your doorstep.

truly, a mystery.

as many moons passed, you became curiouser and curiouser. such dedication, such resourcefulness. just who was this silhouette in the dark you could not seem to shine a light upon? as silly as it sounded, you were slowly toeing the lines of curiosity and perhaps even affection, as stupid as that sounded.

there was a florist you would always pass by whenever you returned home from a day of toiling at work. a selection of flowers, though none matched the flower you tucked onto your belt loop for the day, lined the forefront of the little stall, its owner giving you a friendly smile as you approached.

you started placing marigolds on your doorstep before going to bed.

what made you choose the specific flower? you weren’t too sure yourself. perhaps the colors and rounded shape of its floral head that day reminded you of mora, and it was an attempt at darkly humoring the stranger who had been spending their mora to buy all those hibiscus blooms. perhaps you just found them pretty and silently hoped your secret admirer would, too.

the marigold always disappeared the next morning, replaced with your faithful, bright yellow-petaled friend.

the ritual continued on, and just as tireless as your admirer was, you made sure to be just as persevering. not a day passed without the exchange of blossoms - not when it rained, nor when the holidays rolled by.

“mama, look! it’s the adepti!!” a little girl raced past you, dragging her laughing mother by the hand, jumping and trying to seek past the crowd of people flooding the main street at the end of your little neighborhood. the ginkgo leaves were falling, maidenhair petals matching the bright color of the hibiscus pinned onto your hair billowing past as you too, stepped towards the crowd.

they did this parade every single year, both to celebrate the end of a prosperous twelve-month period and to honor the very birthday of the geo archon, and every single time you thought you would ever get bored of it. a magnificent procession along the main streets, a week-long festival before and after, the various stalls opening along the streets, the hustle and bustle of the harbor amplified, joyfulness and the trees seemingly painting the air gold.

“ah, the demon conqueror isn’t joining us this year?”

“he’s the elusive sort, after all.”

”but the great illuminated beasts are almost all here!”

it was hard to make out the words of the people around you as the crowd bustled in excitement and the processional march reverberated so loudly in your ears, so you decided to step and slip around the gaps of enamored people when you spotted your chance.

eventually, your eyes finally fell upon the group as they made their way through the stone paved path. the proud magnificent beasts were always a sight to behold; otherworldly and also imposing. golden and red, intricately sewn flags bearing the symbol of geo along with the harbor itself waved in the air as the sounds of the drums seemed to make the ground shake. the smell of incense filled your lungs, your eyes squinting as the sunlight caught the cor lapis ornaments affixed onto nearly every object and clothing of the congregation. and yet it was said that the celebration march used to be much grander, with dancers and flower petals and scriptures detailing the founding of liyue and the tales of the archon war being read out loud - but your lord himself insisted for it to be downplayed after several hundred years.

and speaking of the devil…

“may rex lapis live and reign for ten thousand years!”

“ten thousand years, ten thousand of ten thousand years!”

this year too, the deity sat upon the resplendent sedan chair carried by four mortals. this year too, he looked as regal in his dark garment patterned with glowing golden threads and - in your opinion - as bored out of his mind. this year too, a stem of-

-wait.

he didn’t have those last year.

marigold eyes glanced toward your direction, and you thought you had induced yourself into having a fever dream when your gazes met. but no, the way his amber eyes slightly widened and the way he suddenly shifted, back straightening from its former slouch and the colors dusting his cheek were very much real. while your lips parted as you tried to process the information, his own lips stretched into a gentle smile; gloved fingers plucking the flower from its pinned place on his outer robe, before placing a fleeting kiss on the one-stemmed tagetes’ amber corolla.

and as the crowds moved, eager to follow your lord, you let yourself be carried away by the sea of eager citizens, your heart doing double flips inside your chest as you tried to fit the puzzle pieces together.

…….. you think your ‘secret admirer’ might be the very god of your nation.

𖧷 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭ ┈ @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat

[readychilledwine]

Light in the Hallway

Summary - Everything is finally peaceful in Autumn. Eris is High Lord, y/n is his High Lady, and peace has settled across the Court just in time for the arrival of Eris's firstborn.

Warnings - newborns, mentions of Autumn court expectations, sappy fluf

A/n - I wanted to post this because it's so wholesome. I have one more solstice special, and two more maternity celebration posts after this, but this kind of fulfilled needs today.

Merry Christmas, lovelies.

You couldn't stop watching him from the doorway. Eris had cried when your son, his heir, was finally here and screaming as he took in air for the first time.

He was currently standing there shirtless with your babe in his cloth nappy and nothing else, holding him skin to skin and cooing him.

"You will never be alone, my kit," Eris whispered. "You will never wonder if we love you, if you are safe, if you are wanted. You will never question my devotion to you." He was swaying slightly, the smallest smile on his face as he looked down at his son.

His son.

The one he'd raise the way a father should. The one he'd teach to hunt, to train a hound once he was of age. The one he had been absolutely, undoubtedly, and unconditionally in love with since you told him.

"My love," you whispered softly. "He needs to sleep in his crib tonight. We promised each other we would not do this."

Eris turned to you, tears lining those amber eyes. “How did I contribute to something so perfect, so innocent?” You walked to him, head resting on his bicep.

Gods was the babe perfect, a tiny tuft of red curls, bright amber eyes full of wonder and joy. “Look at him,” he whispered. “My beautiful son.”

You kissed Eris's arm, “I suppose he could sleep in a bassinet tonight. Be close to us?”

Eris shook his head. You had not had an uninterrupted night since your son's birth a week ago, and the healer had suggested having the babe move to his own room, to hopefully lessen your anxiety and worry that kept you up watching every small breath and movement like a hawk, and to ensure the babe began a sense of independence in the cut throat court that was Autumn.

You had both hated the idea, crying as you discussed it. Wanting what was best for you as the mother, but what was best for your son as future heir. You had already broken so many of Autumn's expectations. Denying a wet nurse and choosing to feed him at your own breasts. Denying a live-in nanny, instead allowing you and Eris control and peace in his care. What was one more expectation? One more boundary?

“What if he thinks we've abandoned him?” You voiced the quiet fear. “What if-” Eris silenced you with a gentle look.

“Take him,” he handed you your son, completion instantly flowing through you as his little eyes lit up more and happy noises came. Eris motioned for you to follow him, shooting looks to the guards who passed silent judgment as you carried your babe back to your own chambers and out of his nursery. When you entered your room, the shift in your son was obvious, his little body relaxed, content small coos came from his mouth, his little eyes began to close softly.

Eris went into the separated bedroom, wheeling his bassinet out. He stopped it by the couch you used to feed him late at night and motioned for you to hand him his son. And how could you deny him? The image of the perfect father, the perfect partner, once again making a compromise.

He placed your babe in the bassinet, lowing the faelights to a soft, barely there glow, and took your hand.

“Small steps,” he comforted you. “Close enough he knows we're here, far enough I wouldn't find you sitting up in our bed rocking him when you should be sleeping.”

You kissed him, moving to your side of the bed, the one furthest from the door left slightly ajar. “And when the guards tell your father's old advisors?”

Eris looked at you, moving so he leaned over you with a completely serious face. “What is best for my wife, my mate, his mother, is best for my babe. Fuck the guards, fuck expectations, fuck my rotting father and his advisors. They will be gone soon enough. We both would not have slept a second with him that far away.” You felt his magic summon, and then a soft melody playing in the room your son was settling in. “Go to sleep, my fox. I will get up with him. If he needs food, I will wake you. Let me carry part of the load tonight.”

You nodded, kissing him. “The best daddy.”

He smiled down at you, those tears coming back to his eyes, “The best mommy,” he complimented you. “Go to sleep, my love.”