#merry xmas again

[ambivartence]

Christmas Tree (V) cover by JACOB

[hella1975]

chapter 7: it’s a long way to ba sing se (part 2) is up now!

[babymashroom]

[plantagenetsun]

Queen Jane Seymour's Christmas look in season three episode three of The Tudors. ✵

[kiitoskiitos]

happy holidays and since i came out on christmas happy 5 years to meeee

[thefieryeclipse]

Happy Holidays <3

Happy Holidays everyone! X)

I'm planning to be online more in the new year (and I might even have a new chapter with me!) - look forward to catching up with you then ^.^

In the meantime, here's an oldie but a cute Christmas fic set during The Wall:

[victorluvsalice]

Merry Christmas Squid/Cas!

@gaydragonwizards In keeping with your request to see the scene where Romero got a verbal slap upside the head from VV about how he's obviously in love with your OC Angeline from our VTMB RP/fanfics together...well, here's just that. XD Enjoy!

Mr. Oblivious

knock-knock – “Hey, Miss Velour?”

Romero leaned against the archway that lead into Velvet Velour’s inner sanctum in Vesuvius, watching as she straightened one of her posters. “Issac sent me over here,” he continued, allowing himself a nice long look at Velvet’s ass as he spoke. Fringe benefit of being Isaac Abram’s ghoul number one. . . “Said you needed something?”

Velvet turned slowly and sensually to face him, bright red lips curling in a smile that was – rather less friendly than he was used to. “Well well – if it isn’t Mr. Oblivious himself,” she said, sultry tone rather at odds with both her words and the sharp look she was giving him. “What I need, Romero, is for you to pull your head out of your rear.”

Romero blinked. Blinked again. “Uh – sorry, not following what you’re talking about here,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “What the hell did I do?”

“It’s more what you haven’t done,” Velvet replied, folding her arms across her ample chest. “Really, Romero – this long, and you still haven’t said those three little words?”

“. . .still not getting it.”

Velvet sighed. “Oh dear – Isaac said you were ignoring your own feelings, but he didn’t warn me how much. I thought for sure you had an inkling.”

“Nope,” Romero said, shaking his head. “Whatever you’re mad at me for, you’re gonna have to spell it out.” He smiled sheepishly, hoping to hold off a potential vampiric temper tantrum – Velvet wasn’t really the type, but. . .better safe than sorry. “Use small words.”

“All right then.” She leaned forward in what would have been a really distracting way if she hadn’t been hitting him with such a firm, scolding gaze. “You’re in love with Angeline, you dope.”

For the second time in less than five minutes, Romero found himself blinking rapidly. “Uh. . .I – I think you’ve got the wrong idea about us,” he said slowly, knowing that Velvet usually didn’t like being contradicted but unable to help himself. “We’re friends. With benefits.” He grinned. “Some pretty awesome benefits.”

“No, you’re basically boyfriend and girlfriend, but neither of you seem to realize it,” Velvet retorted, rolling her eyes. “Isaac’s told me all about it – how much time you spend together, how you’re always talking about her, how you’ve been walking around with this extra little spring in your step. You’ve got it bad for the girl, and you won’t even acknowledge it!” She stepped forward and prodded him in the chest. “I know you’re not really one for romance, but surely even you can figure out when Cupid’s arrow has hit you?”

“I don’t – Angeline’s just – we’re friends!” Romero protested, glancing down at the finger and back. “Really!”

“Yes, and you ought to be something else too,” Velvet responded. “With roses and chocolates and fancy jewelry. And less gunplay.”

“Hey, Angeline likes the range.”

“All right, then at least give her flowers before you go!” Velvet shook her head. “You really think all you feel for her is friendship?”

“Yeah, I do!” Romero said, frowning. “Angeline’s awesome, I ain’t gonna say otherwise – she’s really smart, and super organized, and when you can get her to laugh she’s really fucking cute–”

“How do you not hear yourself right now?” Velvet cut in, expression both frustrated and deeply amused at the same time – Romero hadn’t been aware you could fit both emotions on the same face. “Really – how many of your other conquests have you said looked cute when they laugh?”

“Normally I’m hoping they don’t start cracking up when they see what’s downstairs,” Romero shot back. “But Angeline. . .okay, so we spend a lot of time together! She could use the company! And sure, I think she’s a hell of a looker, because she is! And I like talking to her, because she’s pretty interesting once you get get her to speak up, and I like making her smile because her whole face gets really glowy, and I like having her around because otherwise it’s just me and the TV and I end up really missing her when she’s not there, and – and. . .”

He paused. Thought for a second about what he’d just said. Then his face met his hand as he groaned. “Oh. Uh. Shit.”

Velvet laughed. “There we go,” she said, a teasing lilt to her voice as she slung an arm around his shoulders. “Now can we talk about how you should be getting her flowers?”

“. . .yeah, maybe.”

[primsycoldbottles]

[Image Description: A digital bust drawing of an original character. X is a medium-dark skinned person with deep green hair pulled into a ponytail, and yellow eyes. She is posed slightly hunched, leaning her cheek on her palm, while her other arm is tucked around her waist, and she is looking down to the side with a tepid expression, her brows furrowed slightly. X is wearing a light blue tank top, a red oversized sweater with white accent lines, and a blue hair tie in her ponytail. There is a large question mark and exclamation point in scarlet red colouring next to X's head. The background is shades of blue, purple, and pink with large glitters. End ID]

this is my @oc-giftexchange2022 piece for @originb !! i had fun making it, so i hope you enjoy :D !!! it was really incredible to be part of such a cool gift exchange idea and to be able to see others awesome ocs <3333

[maddywhat]

i gotta smoke again i got shit to do 🥱

[glamfellens]

thinking about the pressed doughnuts i ordered for dessert the other night. i miss her

[hagravenholm]

.

[ghoul-log]

Ah yes, it must be time! the yuletide skeletons have made their appearance!

[goldie90]

Cause it´s too good to just write it in the tags:

reblog and put your favourite christmas song in the tags

[deadinsidewithglitterontop]

🌟 Merry Christmas 🌟

[victorluvsalice]

Merry Christmas SatiricalDemon!

@thesatiricaldemon *waves* So you requested a fic about Daniel, Dommik, and N on an inter-dimensional vacation to one of my other fic verses...and the very first thing that came to mind was a follow up on a thread about a certain crystalline butterfly birthday present Dan sent to the Victors that my Secundus boy found very inspiring. XD So yeah, that's what you're getting. Hope you enjoy!

This Feels Like A Recipe For Disaster

“. . .and that allowed me to dampen the threat response! They still react if one of the flock gets injured, but it’s more of a ‘chase away the potential threat’ thing – they won’t try a full swarm unless you full-on shatter one of them.”

“Oh, excellent, excellent! And I see in your notes here you were looking to see if you could get different colors – I would imagine that if you added that lovely compound to the caterpillar mid-metamorphosis, you could get a truly acidic shade of green!”

“Maybe, but that also has a good chance of completely destabilizing the metamorphosis entirely. . .though I guess it’s all about how much I add. . .”

Alice looked over at the two, hunched over the main experimentation table in Victor’s greenhouse lab, and shook her head fondly. “I’m sorry, it sounds like they may be at this for a while,” she commented, turning back to their other two guests. “Victor was – very inspired by that little gift your Dr. Daniel sent along for his birthday.”

“So I can see,” Dommik said, grinning in that rather off-kilter way he had. Then again, Alice supposed that since he was really some sort of odd vampire-worm thing running around in a human suit (and how she wished she didn’t know that), it was only to be expected. “Daniel was hoping that he’d enjoy the statue, but I don’t think he expected him to try and recreate it.”

Normally it’s a bad idea for anyone to attempt to copy anomalous flora and fauna, N added, their cold gaze fixed on Daniel and Victor as they kept exchanging ideas on tweaks to the crystalline butterflies Victor was working on. But your husband seems to have a rare talent in that regard.

“Only because it’s a butterfly, I’m sure,” Alice replied, folding her arms. “Lepidoptery is Victor’s specialty. He can work with other insects too – we’ve got a hive of modified bees from a honey-making venture he attempted a little while back – and he’s got some talent with engineering, but butterflies and moths are where he shines.” She grinned. “Possibly because his very first project as a Touched was figuring out how to make them glow.”

“Oooh! I’d love to see that!” Dommik said, excitement shining through his eye sockets. “I’m sure they’re beautiful!”

“They are – and much less deadly than the creatures you lot apparently deal with on a daily basis,” Alice said, glancing between them and Daniel. “I thought Secundus could be a rowdy place to live sometimes, but after the stories you’ve told us of your world, it seems almost – peaceful.”

It is a difficult place to exist sometimes, N agreed. But we have found happiness there, regardless of the circumstances. They tilted their head at her. I do still find it interesting you do not exhibit the same Hume potential as the Alice we know at home.

“Oh, I’d love to be able to bend reality to my will,” Alice grumbled. “It’d make life so much easier. . .then again, your Alice seems to have had a very different life to mine, even if some of the broader events match up?”

“Mmm? Oh, yes – I’ve noticed your meta-narrative placement is much different from hers,” Daniel commented, looking up from the notepad he’d been sharing with Victor. “As is this Victor’s from the one I know. No waking up Emily means no potential for necromancy at all!”

“I’ll take raising butterflies over raising the dead,” Victor mumbled, scribbling something with a frown. “Hmmm – I’m not entirely sure that’s adding up right. . .”

“I’m just wondering where Smiler is,” Dommik said, looking around.

Alice blinked, then glanced over at Victor, who looked equally confused. “Ah – who?”

“You know – Smiler! Your themfriend?”

“Wrong universe, dearest,” Daniel said, with a slightly softer version of his trademark manic grin. “This romantic situation was resolved before their creation – though they may be here somewhere in potentia! Perhaps I could look into the matter!”

“Who are they?” Victor asked. “Other than a ‘themfriend.’” He smiled, tone light. “What, are we supposed to be a threesome too?”

Daniel laughed. “You could if you wanted to be! In fact, in studying the meta-verse for this trip, I actually located a reality where you and Alice are part of a nine-person polycule!”

Alice and Victor shared another, much more astonished glance. “. . .all right, now you have to tell us about that one,” Alice said after a moment, shaking her head. “Because I have got to know.”

[toxicanonymity]

the downward spiral (one shot)

PAIRING: stepdad!Joel x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 3k

WARNINGS: 18+ smut, stepcest, jealousy, possessive Joel. dubcon if you squint. Manhandling, Unsafe PIV, improvised toy, creampie. Brief allusion to Joel as your father figure. Hair can be pulled, can sit on Joel's lap.

NOTES: title is a nine inch nails album. reader has an apartment, but she's visiting for the holidays.

—---

In the kitchen, Joel listens to the coffee maker and checks the time. Leaning back against the counter, he opens his New York Times Games app. He’s contemplating what to start with in WORDLE. “CUTIE,” he types.  

A snapchat notification from you pops up, making him giddy. He adjusts his glasses, and his thumb hovers over the notification. If it’s erotic, he’d prefer to save it for a more private moment, but not now. He’s been waiting for you to wake up, and he’d rather see you first.  The inner battle furrows his brow, then he watches himself tap the notification. His face relaxes at the sight of you, and his cheeks warm with affection. The shot is pretty innocent, but there’s a look in your eye just for him. And your lips are parted. Ugh, your perfect mouth. 

“Merry xmas eve,” it says. 36 hours since he last touched you. 

A shadow moves on the stairs, and he looks up from his phone to see you watching him, biting your lip with a little smile. You clasp your fingers behind yourself and stretch, then finish descending the steps.   

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” his hoarse voice greets you, then he clears his throat. He saves your picture to the chat, then slips his phone into the pocket of his gray sweats. He runs a hand through his hair, then braces his hands on the counter behind himself, leaning back as casually as he can, letting you know you’re in control. 

You take your time approaching, and his eyes lock with yours when you’re close enough for him to smell your shampoo. He takes a deep breath through his nose. You lift your arms to waist height as you close the gap between your bodies. You wrap your arms around his strong middle, and he exhales as warmth radiates from your chest. Your body presses gently into his. Warmth. Comfort. You’re made of joy. 

He hugs you loosely, and you rest your head on him. His chest vibrates with a low, satisfied, “Mm.” He presses the lightest kiss onto the crown of your head. 

“Mm,” you echo. 

His thumb brushes the nape of your neck, and his other hand rests lower on your back, fingers spread, rubbing a slow aimless pattern. You smell just as warm and cozy as you feel. Your hips push forward, making him flinch, but . Warmth rushes to his crotch, and you don’t pull away when it moves against you. He swallows, trying not to push back on you. 

“It’s ok,” you whisper. As he relaxes, his bulge nudges you, and there’s no mistaking his desire. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, 

“Don’t be,” you reply.  

God damn, you’re making this hard. 

The doorbell rings. “Prolly a delivery,” Joel mutters, and his thumb brushes behind your ear.   He savors every moment with you. 

A few seconds later, there’s a bunch of rustling around outside the front door. 

“Alright,” Joel grumbles. 

“Lotta packages out hea,” a Boston accent is heard through the door. Oh, great. It’s your neighbor down the street. The newly single one.  

You start to pull away. Joel’s chest begins to cave in, but the feeling is quickly muffled by irritation. “The fuck is he doin’ here?” Joel grumbles to himself, then accuses you, “That why you’re down here?”  With every muscle in his body tensing, he scratches the back of his neck. 

Your head tilts in disapproval. “Would you keep it together? Please?” 

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“You sure? You good?” you ask. 

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and nods. 

“You’re doing good,” you reassure him, placing a hand on his chest. 

The doorbell rings again, and Joel’s nose twitches. “Get outta here,” he nods toward the stairs. “Now.”

“Chill, I’m going.” 

He waits for you to get all the way upstairs before answering the door. 

—

There’s Harold, crouched over, picking up one last package, trying not to spill his iced coffee in the process. He stands up straight and smiles with his bottom teeth, proud that he hasn’t dropped anything.  His navy, quarter-zip sweater is a little tight for his arms. “Happy holidays,” he says. 

Joel has one hand on the frame, and one holding the side of the door. His body blocks the entry.

They look at each other for a moment. Harold’s tired eyes fall on Joel’s gray sweatpants, tighter than they were ten minutes ago. With a friendly wink in his voice, he asks, “Catch ya at a bad time?” 

“Yeah,” Joel responds flatly. 

When Harold doesn’t leave, Joel bites the bullet and accepts the packages. 

“They were all out here,” Harold mutters as Joel takes them one by one. 

It would’ve been easier for Joel to bring them in himself rather than indulge this ridiculous balancing act. Joel rolls his eyes as he puts the packages down on the floor inside. As he stands up, he glances around and sees no sign of you. Good. He turns toward Harold and grips the side of the door again, ready to close it. 

Harold is standing there with a dumb smile and asks, “How ya doin’, man?”

“Not bad,” Joel forces, silently willing the neighbor to leave already. 

“Good, good,” Harold mutters to himself. “Me too,” he offers without Joel asking. “Well, ya know,” he adds with a defeated shrug. “All things considered.”  Right, his divorce. 

“Daughtah home?” Harold asks. 

As soon as Joel translates it to daughter, his nostrils flare. His blood pressure shoots up. His vision blurs, and his glasses do nothing. He’d like to kill this man. He takes a deep, calming breath and sizes him up in silence. Has he always been that tall? “Just ran into ya wife,” Harold gestures down the street with his thumb, bicep straining his sweater. “She said your daughter might wanna come to the–” 

“No,” Joel interrupts him. 

“New year’s party,” Harold mumbles. 

Joel unclenches his jaw long enough to say, “Kinda in the middle’a somethin’.” 

“Told ya wife I’d invite her,” Harold explains. “Only take a sec.” 

“She’s not dressed,” Joel blurts out. He stops short of clarifying that he’s not your father, either. He wants to be everything. He has to be every man you could ever need, and he cares less and less about who knows it. 

“Heh,” a faint blush rises to Harold’s face with a flash of his eyebrows. He rocks his plastic cup, making the half-melted ice jumble around. 

��bye, Harold,” Joel closes the door in his face, then watches through the window as this asshole walks down the driveway and raises his cup to a passing car. 

-

Joel steps back and cracks his neck in an unsuccessful attempt to release some tension, but it’s only getting worse. His whole body is wound up and ready to fight.   

He can't let you see him like this. He’s supposed to be keeping it together. 

He goes back to the kitchen and steadies his hand to pour half a cup of coffee. He holds the cup, watching the bubbles disappear. 

The bath turns on upstairs, and Joel groans inwardly at the \ urge to charge up the stairs and ravish you. He has a vision of you sitting on the side of the tub, nude. You reach back and dangle your fingers into the water to test the temperature. Every muscle in his body wants to bust through that door and take you. 

Another fantasy he’d never have the balls to act on. Right? 

He puts down his coffee and takes off his glasses, resting them face-up on the kitchen island. He eyes the stairs, then shakes his head at himself. His hands brace on the edge of the island and he straightens his arms, triceps stretching his white tee. Leaning forward, he hangs his head and closes his eyes, calming himself. He stands there and breathes for a minute. 

“Keep it together,” he whispers, but he can hardly hear himself over his inner caveman.

Kill. 

Breed. 

Kill. 

“Fuck,” he curses.

—-------

The water is loud enough that you don’t hear Joel’s heavy steps thudding up the stairs. When the door bursts open, you jump.  Your eyes widen as Joel shuts the door behind himself. He doesn’t look at you yet, despite your nakedness.  He braces one hand on the middle of the door and the other rests lightly on his hip. He looks down, still trying to conjure restraint. 

All you can say is, “Joel?”  

His muscular back flexes rhythmically under his slutty white tee as he catches his breath. After a few seconds, his head turns enough to look back at you. His eyes are dark. 

“Tell me to leave,” he commands, with his voice deep and breathy. 

Your lips part, but you say nothing. You scan his body, lingering on his pumped up muscles. 

He takes his hand off the door and turns to face you head on. His fingers twitch at his sides as his dark gaze roves your body. His head tilts forward, casting a shadow over his eyes as he looks at your face again. “Tell me to leave, honey.”  When you don’t show any sign of answering, he steps toward the bathtub, chest heaving. His brows knit and he slightly shakes his head.

You sit there captivated by his energy. The drum in your neck beats harder as he gets closer. Your chest bubbles with excitement. 

He looms over you, and you’re lifting your head up to look at him when his large hand seizes your arm and he pulls you to your feet. He wraps his other arm around you from behind and grabs between your legs. Grunting under the roar of the water, he manhandles you toward the double vanity. 

He gropes your breasts, still holding you by the pussy. He abruptly pulls you tighter against him and the hard bulge in his sweatpants makes you throb. 

After releasing your breasts, but not your pussy, he grabs your jaw and makes you look at him in the mirror. 

“Last chance, sweetheart,” he murmurs in your ear.  

You answer, “Do it or leave.”

He releases your jaw.  “Uggh,” he groans in painful desire. Emboldened by your encouragement, he slowly slides his flattened fingers along your slit, finding you wet.  “This is mine.” his stiffening cock nudges you through his sweatpants. When you don’t reply, his voice gets firmer. “Say it.”

“It’s yours. I’m yours.” 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

He bends you over the counterspace between your sinks. A sweep of your forearm sends an unplugged hair dryer, a bottle of lotion, and God knows what else into the sink you barely use. 

Meanwhile, Joel has pulled down his sweats. He holds his hard cock, and his rocks onto the balls of his feet and back. He places a hand on your lower back. You tilt your hips as he lines himself up. His tip nudges into the right spot, pushing at your dripping hole. Then he grabs your hips and shoves into you with a sigh.  You grunt at the sweet burn of his sudden intrusion. 

“Yeah,” he breathes. “gotta take it.” 

He only waits a second before withdrawing all but the tip, then slamming into you harder. He withdraws again. A bruising grip on your hips pulls you back as he slides into you, easier.  

The grip of his hands eases up as he buries his cock in you faster. He opts to hold you down. With your breasts smashed against the marble, he grunts as he fucks it all out on you. Your insides bloom with arousal, gripping his cock, pulling at him for more, deeper. Your heart tingles with exhilaration. 

His soft affection is a memory. A wild passion possesses him instead, evident with each thrust and grunt. This primal need has him desperate to own you from the inside out. 

“Ughh,” he groans, snapping his hips. 

You twitch and moan, muffled by the loud water. 

He grunts at the sound and fucks you harder. 

He needs to pour all of him in there. You have to be his. 

He slows down only to wrap a hand around your hair. His firm grip makes your scalp tingle. “Look at me,” he pants. As he begins to lift his fist, you push yourself up on your forearm and look up at the mirror with your breath fogging it. He drops your hair and pulls your upper body closer to his so you can see. 

You brace hands on the counter and marvel at this spellbound wreck of yourself.  Your movements aren’t your own. You’re controlled only by the rhythm of his cock and his hands. They make you feel small.  

 “Me,” he commands, and your eyes snap to him.

It’s the face of a man possessed. His eyes are wild and demanding. He grits his teeth. His neck vein bulges. His hair bounces with each unforgiving thrust. His hips move with a purpose -  deeper. More. More of you. His. Fuck. 

It’s the first time you've met his wild man. You've seen glimpses in the way he lashes out in jealousy. And his intensity has always been evident. But you didn't imagine a whole feral form of him. The way his veins bulge, the power of his body. You never fully noticed the build of his chest or how a v muscle cuts through his tanline. This has all been there, all along.  Every time he’s snapped at you, it's been this guy. 

“fuck, Joel,” you breathe. 

His mouth falls open with a silent moan. About to cum, he grabs your electric toothbrush and races to turn it on. He presses the smooth barrel of your toothbrush against you, with the bottom nearly touching his cock. Your lips part, and your eyelids fall. 

He bottoms out hard, and his shaft twitches against your snug insides as you’re vibrated from the outside. He twitches bigger, harder, and sighs with relief as his seed spills into you. A moment later, another burst, and the warmth spreads in your depths. 

He turns the vibration up. “Give it to me,” he demands. “C’mon, baby. It’s mine.” He holds you tight with another deep thrust. 

A massive throb of his cock sends you over the edge and releases another long rope. The climax seizes you, making you arch your back, grinding against the vibration. “I got ya,” he breathes, then moans with another shot of cum. Your nipples peak. A second later, your spasming pussy squeezes another burst out of him. 

There’s more, and more, until warmth is trickling down your inner thigh and his arms are relaxing around you as you finish. When your body relaxes, he turns off the toothbrush and rolls it onto the counter unceremoniously.  

-

As you catch your breath, Joel hugs you from behind, and his eyes soften. He buries his mouth in your neck, then kisses you on the head and glances at the mirror with a puppy dog look, with a gentle thrust deeper, making you spasm. 

He growls quietly.  God, he’s hot. 

“You okay?” He whispers above your ear. 

“Yeah,” you smile, looking down and tracing his knuckles. 

The bathwater is almost overflowing. Joel slides out of you and pulls up his sweatpants. Cum trickles all the way down your leg to the tile floor. Always such a mess. With a softening tent in his pants he goes and turns the water off, then checks the temp. He reaches in to unplug the drain and lower the water level, then asks, “that good?” 

“Yeah.” 

He sits on the edge of the garden tub, scratching one side of his scruff and manspreading as you approach.

“Hey. C’mere,” he says softly. 

You stand between his legs completely naked, and he runs his hands down your sides, then pulls you into his lap, helping you straddle him.  

“Sure you're good?” He asks. 

“Yes,” you reassure him. “That was amazing.”

He holds you in his arms, then adjusts your weight so his bulge is against your crotch, and your breath hitches. You’ve only come once. You could go for more, but it's not smart. 

He buries his head in your chest, then looks up, and pulls you down for a kiss that starts soft. His tongue parts your lips then he's trying to drink you in.  He pulls you tighter, kissing you hard, grinding you on him in a way that could have you quickly lose control. You're leaking all over him. 

Your lips break away. You cup his cheek, give him a peck, and he asks, “too much?” 

You nod and whisper, “we’re playing with fire.” 

He lets you out of his lap, then holds out his hand and you use it for balance to get into the tub. 

Your voices are hushed. “You want a bath bomb or somethin’?”

“You know about bath bombs?” You tease him. 

“Eucalyptus all the way,” he answers, then crouches down to an under-sink cabinet. 

“Linen closet,” you redirect him. 

He picks a rose one and fumbles with the wrapping until he comes back and drops it in. He sits on the side of the tub and his thumb brushes your forehead. 

“You should go,” you gently urge him. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, and leans down for a last kiss. “Can I get ya anything else?” 

You shake your head no.

“silicone Joel's water resistant,”  he offers, pointing back toward your bedroom. 

You crack a smile and tell him, “Get outta here. Now.”

------

THANK YOU FOR READING