#modern kitchen ornaments

[aphroditelovesu]

The Lost Queen - Christmas Special

— summary: With Christmas time approaching, you have to make sure that peace reigns in your apartment. The only problem is that his companions from two thousand years ago are in it.

— lady l: I know, it's late, but you already know me lol. Hope you like it! There may be small spoilers for future chapters, but nothing very explicit. Merry belated Christmas and a great New Year! Forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️🎁

— warnings: light spoilers for future chapters of TLQ and fluff.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader.

— wordcount: 1,963.

— the lost queen series masterlist.

— taglist: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog , @wisdomcrys , @silmawensgarden .

It was Christmas Eve in the city, and twinkling lights decorated the streets, transforming the place into a spectacle of vibrant colors. The tall buildings sparkled with festive garlands and decorations, reflecting the Christmas spirit that enveloped everyone.

In the central squares, a special fair enchanted passers-by. Stalls sold everything from traditional gastronomic delights to unique crafts, while local musicians played Christmas carols, filling the air with comforting melodies.

Families strolled the streets, wrapped in warm coats and warm smiles. Children ran excitedly, eager for Santa Claus to arrive. The artificial snow fell gently, creating a magical setting for that special moment.

In a cozy apartment, a strange group were gathered to share stories and gifts or try to understand Christmas traditions. Laughter echoed in the corners, mixing with the aroma of hot chocolate and freshly baked cookies.

It was chaos. Your apartment was in chaos. A baby crying, men fighting about everything and asking you questions that irritated you deeply. But it was almost Christmas and you weren't going to let your bad mood or the fights those men were having ruin that day. You were almost certain that one of your neighbors would call the police if they continued like this.

''(Y/N), how does this even work?'' You turned to the person who asked you and smiled slightly when you noticed Hephaestion holding some rolled up blinkers in his hand. He looked at them as if they were the most perplexing and enigmatic thing in the world. Maybe, for him, it really was.

''You have to curl up against the tree and I'll do the rest.'' You explained, as you rocked Cyrus in your arms, trying to make him take a nap.

Hephaestion frowned and stared at the wires with suspicion shining in his eyes but headed towards the Christmas tree that stood in the middle of your living room.

''(Y/N)!'' You looked at Nearchus who appeared from your kitchen with an empty white ceramic cup, previously filled with hot chocolate, ''Do you have any more of that? It's delicious.''

A corner of your mouth curled up, ''On the stove.'' He stared at you confused, still not understanding the modern words properly, ''On top of the huge iron box.'' You explained gently. Nearchus winked at you and headed towards your kitchen, looking for more hot chocolate.

You ignored the others as you led Cyrus to his room, careful not to wake him. You smiled when you saw Alexander sitting in the armchair next to a crib, with Aella in his arms.

''Shh…'' He whispered to you, cradling the little princess in his arms carefully, ''She fell asleep just now.''

''This one,'' You nodded to the baby on her lap, ''also just fell asleep.''

Alexander smiled and carefully got up from the chair and placed Aella in the crib, stroking the baby's serene face in the process. You followed his lead, placing Cyrus next to his sister.

''How are the others?'' He asked you after pulling you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your waist. You smiled and placed your head on his shoulder.

''Well I think. Cleitus and Cassander were fighting over some ornaments and poor Hephaestion looked like his mind was going to break trying to untangle the blinkers.''

He laughed at your response and pulled away a little, kissing your forehead affectionately.

''It will take time for them to… Get used to all this. The gods know how long it took me.'' You suppressed a laugh as you remembered the first time he arrived in the modern world. Curiosity like that of a child or the time he wanted to attack a car because he thought it was a monster.

Gods, you had so much fun during that time. You would always fondly remember those memories.

''I can't believe it's been a year since all that.'' You mumbled. Alexander caressed your face with the palm of his hand, squeezing your cheek gently.

''Neither do I.'' He replied and kissed your lips quickly.

You smiled, your gaze sweet. Alexander blinked at you, all in love. Oh, you really loved that man. That time when you were scared and terrified was gone, now you were in love.

Hell, you were a woman in love, married with two children. There it is, something you never thought would happen so soon.

"Do you know about Perdiccas?" Alexander's body stiffened at the mention of his General and he slowly nodded yes, "Where is he then?"

Alexander shrugged, but you noticed the tension there, the anger, the barely contained jealousy, "On the balcony."

You nodded and kissed his lips passionately, "Try to be kinder to him. Perdiccas made mistakes in the past, but he doesn't deserve to be ignored or despised by you or anyone else. It was just a mistake and to make mistakes is human."

Alexander frowned, irritated, "I would hardly call that a mistake."

You bit your lower lip, remembering the fury, the hatred that Alexander had become when he found out about his General, his friend, plans. He had been so hurt and so furious, it had been a miracle that Perdiccas was not executed.

A miracle thanks to you, who convinced him otherwise. You shook your head quickly, as if you were trying to get rid of the bad thoughts that were plaguing you. From those dark and pain-filled days.

Everything was in the past now.

"It's Christmas time, time to forgive." You batted your eyelashes at him and Alexander smiled.

"I don't celebrate Christmas. But I can't deny that it's an interesting holiday." Alexander murmured and you stroked his stubble, "But I'll try my best for you."

"Thank you. That will be enough." You kissed him quickly and left the twins' bedroom, going to the apartment's balcony. You rolled your eyes in amusement as you passed by the room, hearing Cassander and Cleitus fighting over who should put the star on top of the tree. Hephaestion called them idiots and Ptolemy and Nearchus just laughed.

You opened the balcony door and immediately a wave of cold passed through your bones and you shivered a little, even more so when you saw Perdiccas sitting on a bench there and watching the decorated street, the cars and the people walking hurriedly.

"Everyone seems rushed." Perdiccas commented, without taking his eyes off the street. His face was pale and his lips were slightly chapped from the cold.

Your heart sank when you saw him like that. Despite everything you've been through, the mistakes you made, the pain… You would always care about him.

Sighing heavily, you sat down next to him, hissing when you felt your legs go cold.

Perdiccas finally turned to you and there was a deep sadness in those once warm and gentle eyes.

"It's Christmas…" You mumbled, not knowing what to say. It used to be so easy to talk to him, but now it was like there was a ball in your throat that prevented you from talking.

Perdiccas just stared at you, longing shining in his eyes.

"I-It's cold out here… You should go inside, you might catch a cold or something worse." You mumbled, curling your toes.

"I don't think the others would like that." Perdiccas shook his head, looking at his feet.

"Don't say that. Ptolemy asked about you just now." You murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Perdiccas laughed softly, but it was a sad laugh, "There's no need to lie, (Y/N). I know how you all of you feel about me, after everything that's happened."

You shook your head, "No, you don't. The others have nothing to do with what happened, they don't know everything. Only you and I know the truth."

Perdiccas pursed his chapped lips, "It makes no difference to them. Alexander hates me and because of that, they hate me."

Your heart ached at how sad, how broken Perdiccas's voice had sounded.

"I don't hate you and neither will anyone ever hate you." You smiled at him and stood up, facing him, "Come with us. It's Christmas, a time of peace and reconciliation."

Perdiccas just stared at your hand as you held it out to him, "I… I'm not familiar with Christmas…"

You smiled widely, "Then I would be happy to give you a history lesson on Christmas and what it means."

For the first time, Perdiccas' eyes shone with something other than sadness. Hope. A spark of hope shone in those beautiful blue eyes.

When he held your hand and stood up, discreetly stroking your gloved fingers, it didn't seem so cold anymore.

The hours passed quickly and although Perdiccas was reluctant, he sat down with his former friends and to his surprise, everyone was kind. Even Cassander held his tongue.

They were sharing childhood stories while you and Alexander fixed the tree. It was a little late to put up your tree, considering it was December 24th, but you hadn't had time these last few days.

Aella and Cyrus had already woken up from their nap and were being held by Hephaestion and Cleitus, who were playing with the babies.

As the night continued, you drank, some wine and some hot chocolate. Since you were still breastfeeding, you only drank hot chocolate.

"So what's the story of Christmas?" Cleitus asked. Everyone turned to you. Even Perdiccas, who had already heard the story.

"It depends on the culture, but the general consensus is that it is the birth of Jesus Christ." You said, adjusting a little ball.

"Jesus Christ?" Ptolemy asked, confused.

"The Savior, son of God for the Christian Religion. They say he was born on December 25th and since then we celebrate Christmas." You explained, after finishing arranging the tree. You sat on the couch, next to Hephaestion and Alexander followed suit.

"Oh…" Cassander said, drinking some wine.

"But the historical origin says that Christmas has its roots in pagan Winter Solstice celebrations, later adapted by the Christian Church in the fourth century to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. December 25th was chosen as the official date for this celebration ." You explained, remembering what you had read in a history book once.

They just nodded, not understanding everything you said. You laughed softly.

It was different, a different Christmas. You always spent it with your family or friends, but never with men from the past, literally. It was fun and iconic.

"Ah, it's almost midnight!" You exclaimed as you looked at the clock, it was just a few minutes until Christmas. You looked at your children and smiled.

While they waited for midnight, Ptolemy and Perdiccas talked about something. Cassander, Cleitus and Nearchus argued about an old childhood story and Hephaestion, Alexander and you just watched the twins with affection.

When it finally struck midnight, you got up from the couch and started hugging them and wishing them Merry Christmas. They looked confused but hugged you back and congratulated you the same.

They began to do the same to each other. You watched happily, until it was Perdiccas and Alexander's turn. You felt your hands start to sweat.

Alexander quickly looked at you and said, "Merry Christmas, my friend."

Gasps were heard, but you didn't listen, you just watched them. The way Perdiccas' face lit up and he hugged Alexander.

"Merry Christmas, my friend." Perdiccas said, hugging Alexander.

You smiled, feeling tears on his face. It seemed that peace would finally reign again. Christmas truly was a time of peace and reconciliation.

[valkyrayn]

marius x reader | may all your christmases be white

tags: teasing. clothed sex. dirty talk. orgasm denial. pathetic & begging marius. marius is the christmas gift. handjob. blowjob. dick riding. overstimulation - mission to drain his balls basically. shameless porn. breeding kink (?) yes breeding kink. creampies. yes plural. unprotected sex. squirting. wet and messy. traumatising and defiling the christmas tree. i need church. 

------

“Babe, come look!”

Marius' voice, filled with excitement, echoes from the living room. You quickly wipe your hands on the apron, then slip it over your head.

After a brief inspection of the cookies through the oven window, you smile to yourself before turning on your heel to exit the kitchen, wondering what your fiance is so excited about. 

You both had spent the evening decorating the living room with Christmas decorations, giving the living space the festive vibe that it needed. Tinsels and garlands draped along the mantelpiece, framing the modern fireplace with stockings with his name and yours embroidered on them in gold thread. The plush sofa beside it is draped in red throws and dark green pillows, its cosiness inviting you to lie in it. 

And then there’s the scented candles filling the air with the comforting fragrance of spiced apples, now mingling with the scent of your cookies, wafting in from the kitchen. 

Finally, your gaze settles on the six-foot Christmas tree, standing in the middle of the room. Once adorned with traditional red and green ornaments and tinsels from when you decorated it together—now carries subtle touches of purple, courtesy of your husband-to-be. 

You circle it, taking in the enchanting view, and that's when you find him, reclining sideways beneath the tree. 

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he smiles, innocently—all for two seconds before it turns into his signature smirk. 

He's presented like a gift, much too sinful for Christmas—enveloped in stripes of red and green ribbons, complete with a bow. The silk ribbons wind around his torso, thighs, and neck, snug but impressively tight enough to secure his own wrists behind his back. 

Leave it to Marius to take gift wrapping seriously. 

You sink to your knees beside him, tugging lightly onto one of the loose ribbons, looking at him in curious amusement. “Are we unwrapping gifts tonight? Isn’t it a bit too early?”

With a smug smile, he winks and wiggles his body to move nearer to you. “You can open this one a bit earlier, I don’t mind.” 

You raise an eyebrow, a matching smirk playing on your lips.

“Hmmmm…but what if I don’t want to?” You reach forward to play with the top button of his shirt, before popping it open. “What if I want to keep it all wrapped up?” You love that shirt on him—he looks so good in it because it hugs his body perfectly, accentuating his firm chest and arm muscles. 

But then again, he looks good in anything, especially with nothing on.

“But jiejie…where’s the fun in that?” Marius attempts to sit up, but your palm abruptly stops him, pushing hard against his chest until his back is flat on the floor. 

“Oh…there’s lots of fun in that.”

You lick your lips when his muscle flexes underneath your touch. 

Shifting to straddle his thighs, your fingers tug at the tail of his shirt, freeing them from his pants before pushing it up his body. You trace your nails gently along his exposed skin, easily leaving red lines from how sensitive it is—while you relish in the sight of his abs rippling in response to your touch. 

“Jiejie…?” he chuckles nervously, eyes narrowing as he watches your fingers move towards his zipper. With deft fingers, you reach in and pull his cock out of its confines—earning you a sharp hiss from him. 

With his wrists pinned behind him, he struggles to free himself and you giggle in amusement at how he has put himself in that predicament. The frown on his face shows how frustrated he is with himself and you’re determined to add just a bit more to the madness. 

It doesn’t take long for his cock to stiffen in your grasp, the head pink and leaking with pre-cum, begging to be licked. You wipe it with your thumb, smearing it down his length as you tighten your fist around him and begin stroking—gently, torturously slow. 

Marius groans at the sight, eyes fixated on your small hand, pumping him up and down at that deliberate pace that drives him insane. 

Briefly removing your hand from him, you spit into your palm before wrapping your hand around him again—the new wet and warm sensation makes his hips buck upwards involuntarily. You can see the desperation in his eyes, clouded with lustful urges to take control. 

Patience has never been his strong suit, at least not when it comes to sex. Especially not when he’s on the receiving end of the teasing. 

“How long do you think you can hold yourself back?”

He hisses at the feeling of your thumb tracing the vein on the underside of his cock. “Hold…myself?”

You give him a hard tug. 

Marius’ eyes snap up to meet yours then, eyebrows raised. 

“You’re always telling me not to cum…only when you tell me to…” you trail off, voice low, carrying a seductive lilt. “So…” You reach into his pants to knead his balls, heavy and twitching against your fingers. 

“I wonder how long you’ll last…” You shift backwards, making space to lean forward—giving his swollen tip a teasing lick. “...before you break for me.”

“Fuck.”

His hips jerk upwards when your lips close around him. The warmth of your mouth welcomes his cock as it slides all the way in with practised ease, bumping against the back of your throat. 

From both the suction of your mouth and your fingers pumping him, it’s impressive how he has not immediately exploded down your throat.

But there’s something about denying his orgasm that makes the experience so sexy. The desperation is etched on his face, aching to give in to the pleasure but also restraining himself, eager to please—or fearing to lose. 

You did not miss the mumbled pleas leaving his lips.

“Did I just hear you beg, baby?” You tilt your head sideways teasingly, kissing the head of his cock before wrapping your lips tight around it. “Mmmmmm…” You moan deliberately, sending delicious vibrations through his body, making his cock throb against your tongue. 

“…please—please…”

“Please what, Marius?” You pump his cock faster, watching as more pre-cum leak from the tip and mingling with your spit. 

Gripping the base of his cock, you wrap your mouth around him again. The sudden warmth enveloping him made him throw his head back against the floor, hips arching towards the ceiling, shoving deeper into your mouth. Your saliva trails down his length and pools at the base. 

“Fuck..please…please let me cum. Babe—”

Besides the sound of wet sucking and gags as you deepthroat him, you can also hear his ragged breathing and choked pleas. The obscenity of it all makes you cum untouched before you even realise it.

Releasing him with a pop, you give him a hard tug as you simultaneously shove your other hand down your skirt—flicking furiously at your aching clit with your fingers as you come apart before him. 

“Oh—I’m cumm—Marius, cum for me. Cum, now.” 

He came with a roar, body jerking uncontrollably against you while your fingers continue to pump his cock, feeling it violently twitch as he unloads all over your hand. 

Ribbons of hot white semen shoot from the tip, and with no target lock, it gets everywhere—decorating your fingers, lips, his abs, chest and everything in the radius, including the poor Christmas tree, with his fluids. There’s so much of it, and your hand continues to milk him, even opening your mouth to capture some of it on your tongue. 

Marius looks positively debauched beneath you; covered in his own cum, skin glistening with sweat, hair unkempt—and the once pretty bow, now crooked beyond repair. His eyes are clenched shut, jaw slack, as he releases a shuddering breath. 

With no intention to let him rest, as he has done the same to you more times than you can count—you tug his pants down, shove your skirt and panties to your ankles then swiftly climb up his body. Marius' eyes widen as he watches you straddle him, your hair falling messily in front of you as you reach for him.

His barely softening cock stands fully erect once again when you grab him to line him up against your wet cunt. 

“Babe…wait—”

The walls of your cunt stretch deliciously around his thick cock as you sink down onto his body—dragging another involuntary moan out of him. His eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your tight walls gripping his overstimulated cock. He has barely recovered from his last orgasm, the final spurts still shooting from his tip, splashing against your walls. 

The air feels too hot so you quickly fumble to unbutton your blouse, tugging it open to free your tits. He groans at the sight of your exposed breasts, your nipples harden under his hungry stare, feral and bordering on unhinged. 

The absence of control takes its toll on a man, particularly on one Marius von Hagen.

Wonder what the employees of Pax would think if they ever saw their precious young CEO like this. The pretty flush on his cheeks, the narrow slits of his eyes as he wills himself from blacking out from overstimulation and the occasional whining sounds leaving his lips, pleading for your mercy. 

You take a mental picture, carving it into your memory for future use when he leaves for yet another week-long business trip. 

Planting your palms against his chest, you roll your hips against him to take him deeper. With some effort, he props his arms against the floor to arch his hips upwards to meet yours, pumping his cock into you until you both find a rhythm. 

His eyes are fixated on your joined bodies—every sheathe and pull coats his cock with more of your cream, now mixing with some of his fluids. Its messy and erotic sight is an invitation for him to succumb to another brain-numbing release but a brief snap of reality suddenly kicks in, even though he’s barely keeping it together to form coherent words. 

“Baby, fuck. We didn’t use a condom—”

You slam yourself down onto him, dragging a choked groan from him and cutting him off mid-sentence. You lean forward, pressing your tits against his clothed chest and kisses the underside of his jaw.  

“It’s okay.” You press a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. “You can cum inside.”

Marius tilts his head slightly to meet your gaze, looking for confirmation, almost in disbelief, only because he knows you’re not on the pill as you normally are. 

“…you sure?” 

“Marius, I want to feel you inside me.” The words leave you with no hesitation. “No barriers. It’s umm–my Christmas gift to you…” You trail, rubbing your thumb across his lower lip. “Breed me like you always said you would.”

“Oh fuck…” 

His chest heaves, mind reeling at your request of which he is more than happy to oblige. He wrestles with the ribbons around him, loosening them just enough so he can adjust himself to an angle that allows him to fuck you deeper. 

“I can’t believe you’re asking me to breed you while I’m all tied up…this isn’t fair.”

You chuckle, trailing your nails down his firm chest, and deftly undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt. You grab onto the ribbons around his neck, holding onto them like reins as you settle back into your seating position. 

“You tied yourself up, Marius.”

He lets out a frustrated grunt, and thrusts up into you, shoving his cock right against your cervix. You scream at the rough intrusion, driving you close to another orgasm.

Your tits bounce wildly as he starts fucking you faster and he savours the sight of your lewd body, naked and slick with sweat and cum—and he’s desperate to taste you. With a press of his palms against the floor, he pushes himself up into a seating position and then greedily latches onto your nipple. 

“Marius…oh…” Your body jerks against him, pressing yourself further into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around your stiff peak, tugging it gently between his teeth then releasing it with a wet pop before giving the other the same attention until they’re both red and swollen.

“Marius…I’m going to—cum…” With his mouth sucking on your tits, swollen clit rubbing against him and thick cock pumping in and out of you in quick hard thrusts, it’s nearly impossible not to come undone again so soon after the last one. 

“I want to feel your cunt squeeze me when you cum. Do it now,  baby…now.” He takes your nipple in his mouth again in one hard suck, it sends you hurtling towards a screaming orgasm. 

“Yessss…just like that baby….”

His name echoes into the ceiling, moans morphing into unrestrained, loud screams. 

“I’m gonna—fucking cum too—holy shit!” A deep rumbling groan escapes his throat, as you cum together, fluids gushing out of you while he empties every single drop inside you in hot spurts. 

You collapse onto him, moaning into his mouth as you continue to ride the euphoria—your body trembling uncontrollably, pussy throbbing and squeezing around him, coaxing more cum from him.

Fluids, yours and his, pool beneath you, leaking messily past your joined flesh,  and onto the, fuck, carpet. You roll your hips against him, clenching your walls deliberately around his cock and he halts mid-kiss to hiss against your lips. 

“Are you trying to drain me?” He asks between ragged breaths, chest heaving and pressing against your oversensitive nipples.  

“Mm-hmm. Every single drop.” 

“Fuck…” 

You raise your hips until his cock slips out of you.  

Through half-lidded eyes, he watches as you spread your folds apart with your fingers, letting the combined release drip onto his navel and slide down his skin. You start fingering yourself and making a show of dipping your fingers inside and pushing it deeper. 

A breathless ‘fuck’ leave his lips and he slams his head back onto the floor, eyes rolling back. 

His cock, despite twitching and weeping from overstimulation, is still stiff—to no one’s surprise. Two is a weak number by his standards. His love for extreme sports is really just a facade for his deep-seated obsession with having more. More adrenaline, more thrill, excitement, and more release—from rounds of vigorous fucking.

So despite the risk of a chafed cock, his greediness to fill you to the brim ultimately consumes him. With your combined fluids as lube, he starts fucking you again—starting with slow thrusting until his strength finds him once more. 

You turn around until your back is to him, settling on your knees again to straddle his thighs. 

The loosening ribbons around him allow him some space to move. He struggles out of the restraints, not completely but just enough to free his arms from under him. You feel him grab your ass cheeks, spreading them to watch his cock sink into you. The first sheathe will never fail to drag that sexy, rumbling groan out of him—music to your ears. 

You pull out completely, leaving only his tip in and then slowly, in a teasing, undulating motion, sink back onto his cock in one quick swoop.

The final thread of his patience snaps. 

And suddenly he’s slamming into you with a speed you aren’t prepared for. 

Rough.

Frenzied. 

You gasp, his hard thrusts send you lurching forward onto his knees, clutching onto his legs, nails sinking into his skin. 

“You’re fucking me so good…Marius—yes…yes!”

“Jiejie…shit��your pussy is squeezing me so tight.”

The fat of your ass smacks loudly against his pelvis, cum pulling and snapping, making a mess on his thighs. He inserts a thumb into your hole, joining his thrusting cock. Your body jolts at the fullness, feeling stretched to the limit as if he’s going to rip you apart. 

“I’m going to fill this hole until you can’t take any more…”

“Yes please…”

The smell of sweat-slicked bodies and sex fills the air, overpowering the smell of scented candles.

Marius raises his knees to force you to lie on your back, flat against his chest. One hand snakes up your front to squeeze your breast while the other finds your throat, fingers wrapping themselves around your neck.

Anchoring his strong legs on the floor, he finally finds an angle that allows him to penetrate his cock even deeper that you can almost feel him in your lungs. 

“Oh—you’re so deep inside me.”

He hisses through gritted teeth. “You’re gonna kill me, babe. You’re so fucking horny…” 

“It’s your…fault…nngghh…”

“Your pussy is gonna feel this tomorrow morning.” He whispers, dipping his mouth near you to lick the skin beneath your earlobe. 

“Mmm...so is your dick.”

Your tits bounce heavily from his hard pounding, with no signs of him faltering—determined to drag more orgasms out of you, until your eyes cross.

The frenzied fucking seem to have moved you both further across the floor, closer to the Christmas tree. The soft tinkling and jingling noises that you hear are coming from the ornaments colliding and brushing against each other, stirred by the movement of the carpet beneath it.

The lewd sound of his balls slapping against your skin drags another lusty moan out of you. You feel drenched and filthy from the cum leaking messily between your bodies.  

“Babe—turn around, please. Want to see—your face when I—cum inside you.” 

Everything happens in quick succession. You turn around and impale yourself with him, he arches his back and slams back into your sex in hard thrusts.

The jingling sounds of ornaments and the loud wet smacking of skin mingle and reverberate throughout the room. Your jaw slack, stuck open in a silent scream—body thrashing above him as your walls clench him in a vice grip. 

His hard fast fucking is too much—the restraints starting to loosen and fall around him at his harsh movement. You can feel his cock pound straight into your cervix.

With one final strength, you pin his arms against the floor on either side of him, putting your weight on his body and start slamming your ass down to meet his thrusts, fighting for dominance. 

Marius curses into the ceiling. You lunge forward and slam your mouth against his in a bruising kiss—a clashing of teeth and tongue, tugging of lips until they’re swollen. Strands of saliva hang between you as you briefly part, gasping for air, breathing into each other. 

“Baby...say it—again. Please…want to—hear you—say it.” He whispers, half whining in broken sentences, hot breath brushing against your chin.

“Cum inside me. Fill me up, Marius.”

“Oh—god…”

Loud moans leave your mouths in unison as he slams into you in quick punishing thrusts before coming straight into your womb, cock twitching and pulsing, cum spurting and coating your walls.

Wild overwhelming pleasure courses through you like fucking electric. And with your inhibition out the window, you lean back and circle your throbbing clit rapidly, pushing to the edge. You come squirting all over him, harder than before—messier than before. 

Holy fuck.

“Oh fuck—babe! Oh shit—cum all over me…yes. Fuck!” Marius' vision blurs as he watches the fluids gush out of you. He’s drenched. His expensive shirt is soaked with your juices, sticking to his skin. 

The obscene amount of fluids combined leaves a huge mess between you, skin and thighs sticking together. The lewd squelching sounds of your absolutely drenched cunt lull your brain back to life, after what seemed like a whole body shut-down. 

La petite mort. The French knew what they were talking about because it does in fact, feel like little death.

The minutes feel like hours as you lay there on top of him, calmed by the rise and fall of his chest. Struggling against the ribbons, he manages to sit up, bringing you with him with arms wrapped around your limp body. He presses his forehead against yours, breath and sweat mingling. 

Marius captures your lips in a soft kiss. You sigh contentedly into his mouth, eyes fluttering closed as you bask in the bliss of the aftermath. He’s always gentle at the after, peppering kisses and whispering sweet nothings against your skin, ever the lovesick fool. Your lovesick fool. 

“Best Christmas gift ever.” You hum against his lips. He hums back in agreement, dipping his head to nip at your jaw.

“The poor Christmas tree though. We defiled it, babe.” 

Your head jerks to look at it. A few of the ornaments, tinsel, and an angel had fallen off the branches, now strewn across the carpet amongst the heap of other messes that your rough sex left in its wake. The carpet is—ruined. At least not in a way where outsiders would know, oh but you, you would know.

Some of the leaves are still dripping with fluids and at that point, you can’t even tell whose anymore. Horrified yet amused—you bury your face against his neck and laugh.

“We’ll have to redecorate. And replace some of these, don’t we?” You say, picking up the angel with your fingers. 

“I say it’s worth it. Fuckin’ around the Christmas tree…even the song tells you to do it.” 

“Marius…it’s ‘rockin’ around.’

He shrugs, grinning. Potay-to po-ta-to.

You groan against his skin in both frustration and embarrassment. He laughs but it quickly dies down. Your eyes widen to find him tilting his head to the side, eyes narrowed in slits at the ceiling. 

“Babe…do I smell burning?”

“THE COOKIES!”

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

🎁🎄Never Better Than At Christmas - Max Verstappen

<word count - 3484>

You lived in a small, snow-covered town in the heart of the Netherlands, and you were known throughout the town for your absolute adoration of Christmas. You always decorated your cozy little house with twinkling lights, ornaments and a perfectly adorned tree.

You also worked at the bookstore, where you spent your days surrounded by the magic of stories. You spent every Monday night, reading to the children of the village, and you helped out in the school library as well. 

On one snowy evening, just a few mere days before Christmas, a man walked into the bookstore, seemingly seeking refuge from the bitter cold outside. You were eager to share your love for literature, so you approached the man. 

"Excuse me?" you asked, standing beside him. He had a few sprinkles of white on his coat shoulders, a few sitting atop his blonde hair. "Can I help you?" you further asked, once you had his attention.

"I was just walking by, and this place looked pretty warm, I hope you don't mind," he kindly smiled, taking in your appearance. You looked as cozy as you possibly could, with black turtleneck sweater and a thick jacket over the top.

"Of course, no problem," you smiled, glad to have a visitor at this time. Nobody really came to the store past 5pm, but you were still open till eight any way. It was quiet, and it was the perfect place for you to read all of the books you could possibly want to indulge in. 

"It's a really nice store you've got here, the Christmas decorations are gorgeous," he complimented, and you couldn't help but blush. You took great pride in decorating your favourite place for your favourite holiday, and it was nice that someone noticed. 

"Thank you, Christmas is my absolute favourite holiday in the whole world," you beamed as he nodded in approval. 

"I completely agree with you, there's nothing quite like the magic of Christmas, is there?" he said, and you felt like you were falling in love already.

"There really isn't," you agreed, watching as his eyes wandered around the space. Bookshelves upon bookshelves lining the walls, filled to the brim with old classics and modern works of literature. There was a Christmas tree by the till, and the whole store had warm, twinkling lights strung up. 

"Can I get you a drink? I can do tea, coffee, hot chocolate, whatever you want, really," you offered, wanting to learn more about the stranger who had stumbled into your shop. 

"A hot chocolate sounds great, thank you." 

"Take a seat and I'll have it ready in a few minutes," you told him, pointing to the two arm chairs that were tucked away in the corner. That was where you would sit and read to the children on a Monday night, while they all sat sipping hot chocolates as they intently listened to you. 

You disappeared into the back to your tiny kitchen, which consisted of a small stove and a kettle, made complete with a mini fridge where you kept the milk. You warmed it up over the stove, before tipping the rich chocolate powder into it.

Pouring it into two mugs, you topped it off with whipped cream and the mini marshmallows that you absolutely loved. Walking back out into the shop, the mugs clutched in your hand, you saw the blonde man sat in one of the armchairs, and he had conveniently left your favourite one vacant for you. 

"Thank you," he said, taking one of the mugs out of your hands and leaning back in the chair. Something about the shop felt comforting, and homely. He couldn't quite tell whether it was the atmosphere, the lighting or the strange feeling of familiarity. 

"What's your name, if you don't mind me asking?" you queried, sitting down in the armchair next to the stranger's. You held the mug in your hands, and it was perfectly warm to the touch. 

"Max, you?" he said, and you could finally put a name to the face. 

"Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you," you smiled, looking at him. He had this glint in his eyes, and they were just as blue as the crisp winter skies on a morning. Something about him made you feel safe, and comforted. 

"The pleasure is all mine," Max said, sipping away at his hot chocolate. He had to admit, it was one of the best he had ever had, and it made him feel a warmth inside his chest. 

"So what brings you here? You're not a local, I know that for sure," you chuckled. 

"I was just passing through, since I'm going home to my family's for Christmas, but the snow was just too heavy to drive, so I thought I'd stop over here until it clears. I saw your shop was open, and I love books, and it looked incredibly cozy, so I figured it'd be perfect to get out of the storm for a short while," he explained, as you attentively listened. 

"What kind of books do you like?" you asked, excited to delve into one of your favourite topics. You owned a bookstore after all, so you had to know what you were talking about in regards to your passion. 

"I really like the classics, and A Christmas Carol has to be one of my favourites," he told you, and you could have sworn your heart skipped a beat. You stood from your chair and, once again, disappeared into the back. 

You pressed the buttons on the safe in the corner and produced what you were looking for. You handed it to Max when you returned, and his eyes widened. "My prized possession, not first edition, but printed in 1845," you explained. 

He gently ran his fingers over the delicate red front of the book - the 1845 print of A Christmas Carol. The edges were slightly frayed, but that was to be expected of a near on 180-year-old book. "How the hell did you get your hands on this?" he asked, flabbergasted. He had to keep on running his fingers over it, just to make sure it was real. 

"My Dad was a collector of the classics, this is the only one of his that isn't in a museum at the moment," you explained, the look on his face being completely priceless. It was like a child opening their dream gift on Christmas morning. That pure, innocent joy that couldn't be compared to anything else. 

"Can I open it?"

"Books are meant to be read," you nodded, watching the care he took as he gently flipped the pages. His hands were so careful with the aged, frail pages, his eyes scanning over the words that he had read so many times over, but it was so much better reading them from what might as well have been an original copy. 

"It's beautiful, absolutely beautiful," he stuttered, unable to take his eyes off the object in his hands. "Thank you for letting me see it," he added, handing it back to you so that you could put it back in its safe place.

"Stories are meant to be shared, it'd be selfish if I didn't," you smiled, peeking out of the window, seeing snowflakes aggressively fly through the air, a few hitting the glass panes. The wind rattled the door every now and then, as if it were trying to infiltrate the warm, safe space with its bitingly cold fingers. 

"I don't think the storm is letting up anytime soon, do you have a place to stay for the night?" you asked, seemingly concerned about what Max was going to do. 

"I didn't really think about that, to be honest..." he realised, thinking he would have to spend the night in his car, shivering as the wind kept him awake with its howling. 

"There's a spare room at my place, if you would be comfortable staying, that is. No pressure if not, I'm a stranger and this is a new town, I get it," you rambled.

"If you're happy with it, then I'd be very grateful to stay for the night," he smiled, glad that you were trusting a stranger from outside of your town to stay in your house. 

"Well then, let me lock up and we can head out," you smiled, retrieving your keys from the counter and starting to lock the bookstore up for the night. Once you were done, you led Max down some side streets, that were sheltered from the wind by the buildings.

"Goodnight Max, I'll be next door if you need me," you said, closing the door to the spare room behind you as you left Max to settle and get some sleep. All he could think about for a short while was how grateful he was for the storm, since it meant he could meet you and get to know you. 

The next morning, you awoke to people shovelling snow from the roads and pavements in order to allow people to actually get around the village. You found Max in the kitchen, stood at the stove. "Good morning, I figured I could make you breakfast as a small thank you," he said as he noticed you walk in. 

Your heart was fluttering as you and Max ate breakfast together, little progress being made on the roads outside. "I don't think you're going to be able to drive for a little while," you said, and Max could only chuckle in agreement. 

The roads were still blanketed by inches of snow, so driving on them was simply an idiotic idea. "How about we go for a walk, I can show you around?" you offered, wanting to show off more of your town to the man you had grown so fond of in such a short amount of time. 

"Sounds wonderful," Max smiled, ready to see your town. Once you were done with breakfast and had cleared away, the pair of you shrugged your coats over your shoulders and ventured out into the snowy landscape. 

The snow crunched under your feet, and glittered under the high winter sun. You showed him some of your favourite places, and finally took him to the antique shop that you frequented. Despite it only being a small town, there were many treasures that people kept until they no longer had the use for them, and brought them here. 

It was very resemblant of your book store, and Max instantly adored it. As you wandered around the store, Max let his eyes feast on all of the old wonders that it contained. Their collection spanned from furniture to old trinkets from years gone by. 

But, the section that intrigued the pair of you the most had to be the jewellry. They had pieces that were seemingly timeless, and they had every kind of piece that one's heart could desire: brooches, earrings, bracelets, necklaces, rings, anklets. You name it, they had something of it. 

Your eyes were particularly captured by a golden locket, the piece being placed in the display cabinet open, revealing the two spaces that two photos could be placed in. "Pretty, isn't it?" Max said, standing beside you as you gazed at it. 

"It really is," you nodded, moving on from the cabinet before the locket could steal your heart just as quickly as Max had. Max had already made up his mind of what he was going to do before he left, but he needed to send you away so he could make it somewhat of a surprise. 

As you stepped outside of the shop, Max stopped and tried to bring on his Oscar winning acting skills, of which he felt he greatly lacked. "Damn, I think I left my keys on one of the displays, I'll go and get them," he lied, not having a clue if he was being convincing or not. 

"Do you want me to come and help you look?" you offered, not spotting the pretty obvious lie. 

"No, I know where they are, but thank you," he said, a little too quickly before walking back into the store and heading straight to the counter. The clerk was more than happy to sell him the locket, since they were getting pretty full of items. 

He had it, and now he just had to get a couple more things done with it, and then he could gift it to you. "Am I alright to stay at yours for another night? I don't think the roads are clear yet," he said, glad to be hopefully staying longer with you. 

"Yeah, you can stay for as long as you need," you smiled, grateful that the roads weren't being cleared. You didn't want Max to go just yet, since you were thoroughly enjoying the time spent with him. You had gotten used to having him around for the past day and a bit, and you didn't want that to end. 

Eventually, you headed home and lit the fire, but Max said he was going to go to bed early, just in case he could leave the next day and would have a long drive ahead of him. You sat in front of the fire, the flames casting shadows on the walls with a crimson glow on the space. 

A newer copy of A Christmas Carol was sat on the coffee table, and you had started re-reading it since Max had been there. You mentally scolded him for partially ruining the book for you, since you would think of him every time you read the book, or looked at your prized 1845 copy. 

Now, A Christmas Carol and Max were two things that popped up simultaneously in your brain, and there was nothing you could do about it. While you were lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice Max slipping out of the back door and out onto the snowy pavements, yet again.

He went to the jewellry shop, leaving the locket there while he went to find someone who could print photos. It took a while, but he eventually found a printing machine in the convenience store. He also found a box for the locket, so that was convenient. 

Checking over the jewellers handy work on his return, he adored what they had done. It was exactly as he had imagined, and all he had to do was place the photo in, and it was all set for you. Opening the back door again, he was hit with the warmth from the fire, and silence. Nothing could be hear apart from the soft crackle of the embers. 

He saw you, still in the same exact spot on the couch, but you didn't move an inch. He headed upstairs to get ready for bed, but he thought it would be good to check on you. You were still in the same position, and as he approached, you stayed completely still. 

He rounded the sofa, quickly seeing why you hadn't moved. You were fast asleep, your book open in your lap as your lips were parted with soft breaths escaping them. He took the book from your lap, spotting that you were reading A Christmas Carol, and it was coincidentally on a very topical page. 

He put it to the side, and draped a blanket over you so that you'd be warm once the fire died out. He lent over and gently kissed you on the forehead, whispering a soft 'Goodnight' as he left you sleeping. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, the roads were fully cleared, and Max no longer had an excuse to stay. He stood outside your door, his bag in one hand as he took it all in for one last time. "It's been lovely spending time with you, Max," you said, trying to hide your sadness. 

"It's been great spending time with you as well, thank you so much for letting me stay," he smiled, gazing at you. 

"You're welcome any time, Max, absolutely any time at all," you told him, fidgeting with the object behind your back. "Erm, Merry Christmas," you stuttered, thrusting it in his direction. With his free hand, he took the thing from you, expecting it.

"I figured if you liked A Christmas Carol, you'll like this," you rambled, trying to gauge a reaction. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, before it broke out into a full grin across his face. "It's a special copy," you told him. 

Flicking it open, he saw all of your annotations, all of your thoughts and feelings, as if he were inside your mind. "Wow, thank you, so much," he smiled, tucking it into his bag. It was something he would treasure forever, and Great Expectations would now be something he always correlated with you. 

"I actually have something for you, but you can't open it until tomorrow, OK?" he said, pulling a small box out of his pocket. 

"Thank you, Max. I won't open it until tomorrow," you promised, dropping the box into your pocket so that you wouldn't get tempted to open it. 

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," he said, before throwing caution to the wind and leaning closer to you. He paused for a moment, unsure if doing what he was about to was a good idea or not, but he knew he'd regret it if he didn't.

He closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a short, yet sickeningly sweet kiss. It only left the both of you wanting more as he pulled away, the flush on your cheeks no longer being from the cold. "I'll see you later, Y/N," Max said, sitting down into his car. 

"I'll see you later, Max," you smiled, the melancholy instantly melting away like snow on a sunny day when you realised that this wasn't goodbye. Something inside you told you this wasn't goodbye, it simply was, as you had both said, a 'see you later'.

He waved as he drove off, and you stood there for a minute. It took everything you had to not pelt after him as fast as your legs could take you, stop Max's car, and give him everything you had. But, your eyes remained trained on the back of his car, until he was a dot on the horizon no more. 

--

There was one present you were itching to open on Christmas day, and it was the first one you looked at as you sat in front of your Christmas tree. Taking the lid off the box your heart stopped. 

Sat there, shining and glinting in the light, was the golden locket you had laid your eyes upon in the antiques store with Max. You ran your fingers over the cold, smooth gold for a moment, before opening it up. 

In the left panel was the one picture you and Max had taken together, in front of your book store, both of you smiling with cold-bitten rosy cheeks. In the right panel, was an engraving. 'Never better than at Christmas'. 

You flicked your eyes over to the copy of A Christmas Carol that you had on the coffee table still, and your heart swelled to at least three times the size. Tucked in the side, was a small piece of paper. All that was on it was a series of numbers, and you could barely refrain from jumping up in the air and giggling like a teenager. 

You put Christmas on hold, as you punched the numbers into your phone, and instantly texted it. 'Hey Max, thank you for my present, it is absolutely beautiful, I adore it. Hope you got to your family's safe, Merry Christmas! x'

'It was the least I could do after you were so kind to me' he instantly messaged back, as if he were waiting for you. "But I didn't make it to my family's'," a voice from behind you said. You whipped your head around, only to see Max stood there. 

For a moment, you just stared at him, thinking he was a figment of your imagination. "The snow got too bad further down," he smiled, opening his arms out to you. You bounded over to him, throwing your arms around his neck as you kissed him with every morsel of love you had in your body. 

He held you close as you kissed, and there couldn't have been a more magical moment. As you pulled away, flushed and breathless, Max tucked a lock of loose hair behind your ear. "You OK?" he softly asked, looking deep into your eyes. 

"Never better than at Christmas," you smiled, an he kissed you again, like a man starved of affection. He knew he'd never have to miss someone as much as he'd missed you during the drive away, and he knew this'd be the first of many more Christmases to remember. 

A/N - Merry Christmas my loves! I have some time off, and a few things finished, so that means you guys are actually going to get some content out of me! I am working on requests and part 2s, even though I know I've been saying that for like... 2 months now. I hope you're all having a wonderful day, whether you celebrate Christmas or not, and I love you all!

Lando Christmas Special coming later, Charles Christmas Special coming in the next couple days! 💖💖

|masterlist|

[fayes-fics]

It Had To Be You: Chapter 9 - Nobody Else Gave Me A Thrill

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: You two finally figure it all out on New Year's Eve...

artwork credit @colettebronte

Warnings: none, really… just some swearing and love confessions.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. Here we are; this is the final chapter! Both reader and Benedict finally see the truth. There will be a short, hopefully humourous epilogue to this story as well, which I will post tomorrow. Thanks to @colettebronte for betaing. I hope you have all enjoyed this fic <3

For the next few weeks, the dreary weather, the clocks changing, and the chilly nights drawing in match your sullen mood. Your argument with Benedict at the wedding made you so sad but resolute to try and put it behind you.

It's the last weekend in November when you are buying a Christmas tree that you feel the worst. Making a mess of dragging the tree back to your place alone, leaving a trail of needles behind you, you stop halfway and slump onto a doorstep. Recalling with perfect clarity how you and Benedict had bought one together from the same man the previous year, laughing carefree as you easily carried it between you. Then you drank mulled wine as you haphazardly threw on lights and ornaments, dancing to cheesy Christmas songs. It's what you miss the most—his companionship, the ease of time spent with one of your favourite people.

Just as you are wrestling the tree through your front door, exhausted, sweaty and prickled by a thousand tiny shitty needles that seem to have it out for you, your phone pings with a message.

BB: I'm sorry for how things ended at the wedding. I've been thinking about it for weeks now. Please call me. I want to talk. 

Pride (and your current disastrous had-a-fight-with-a-tree-and-lost appearance) stops you from doing what you genuinely want to—picking up your phone and Facetiming him to sort it all out.

Not ready yet.

__

Two weeks later, it's mid-December, and you are sitting cross-legged on your living room floor with a big glass of wine, wrapping presents for friends, when your phone pings again. For a while now, almost every day, he has been sending links to Insta posts with adorable and hilarious content. Each of which you have enjoyed but couldn't bring yourself to reply to. This time, it’s a message.

BB: If you are available at the moment, please call me.

You stare at the little pop-up notification and take a gulp, a weird weight in your chest at the idea you might cave this time. Perhaps. Once you are done wrapping this gift. A few minutes later, your phone pings again.

BB: Okay, I assume no call means:

BB: (A) you can't take a call right now

BB: (B) you can, but you don't want to talk to me or 

BB: (C) you desperately do want to talk to me but are trapped under something heavy

BB: If it's A or C, please call me back later, doesn't matter what time

BB: Also, if it’s C, please call 999 if you are in danger, then call me after. I don't have any heavy-lifting equipment… 

You can't help but giggle at his gentle, silly humour, attempting to diffuse the tension. A large part of you wants to call; you even have the phone in your hand, but at the last minute, you rest it against your forehead with a sigh, something stopping you. Your stupid rebound fling being the biggest one, Benedict’s cutting remark about how quickly you let someone else into your bed, making your stomach roil. 

Still not ready yet.

—

“Obviously, she doesn't want to speak to me,” Benedict laments, his words muffled into a scatter cushion on Kate and Anthony’s sofa. 

It's the morning after they've returned from honeymoon, three days before Christmas. While they are thankful Benedict popped over with some basics to make breakfast, they could do without his melancholy—they’re much more about a ‘let’s have newlywed sex on the kitchen table’ vibe.

“What do I have to do? Get hit over the head? Be in some calamitous accident?” Benedict whines, twisting his head in aggravation as if trying to burrow himself head-first into the furniture.

‘What do we do?’ Anthony mouths to Kate, who throws her hands up defeatedly.

‘How should I know?’ she mouths back, frowning. ‘He's your brother.’

‘Your friend's fault,’ Anthony shoots back.

Kate crosses her arms and gets a look like a sour lemon, and he instantly regrets that line.

Benedict lifts his head to look up at them, and she has to stifle a giggle behind her hand at the deep red imprint of the cushion zipper on his forehead.

“If she wants to talk to me. She will call me back, right? I'm done with making an idiot of myself….” Benedict claims boldly.

__

You are sitting on the sofa at your childhood home early evening on Christmas Day, almost disgustingly full of Baileys (your mum's tipple of choice on this day) and Christmas pud, watching The Wrong Trousers - a family tradition - when your phone pings with a message.

It's from Benedict and your stomach vaults. You honestly thought after more than a week of silence, he had given up trying. And part of you was so sad. There is no text this time, just a video attachment. You excuse yourself to the downstairs cloakroom, taking a seat on the closed lid of the toilet, intrigued as to what it is.

The video starts with him looking directly into the camera, his handsome face filling the frame and making your stomach swoop again. Fuck, you have missed seeing it.

“Merry Christmas y/n. I hope you are having a nice time. I miss you, and I hate how we left things,” he opens honestly, “and when Bridgertons don't know what to do, we always act stupidly. It's our ‘thing’. So here, You can blame this on my genetics...”

The video cuts to black briefly and then fades into him, a huge 6ft lump, crowded behind a plastic toy piano on the floor, probably one of Daphne’s kids' toys. You instantly giggle at the ridiculous visual as he apes a maestro, closes his eyes as if about to play Chopin, and flexes his hands. Then, the tinny, electric sound of some familiar notes being played hesitantly begins. He isn't exactly a natural pianist.

“Hey, I didn't just meet you, And this is crazy, 

You know my number, So call me maybe,

It's hard to feel right without you, lady

You know my number, so call me, maybe…”

You are instantly laughing. He's such an adorable, charming idiot. Sitting behind a miniature plastic piano and playing, half in earnest, half in jest. At least his voice can hold a semi-decent tune. It brings an affectionate mist to your eyes even as it continues…

“Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad

I missed you so bad; I missed you so, so bad

Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad

And you should know that, I miss you now… so, so bad….”

For the last few words, he slows down the song and looks directly down the lens pointedly.

Something in his pleading look is the straw that breaks the camel's back proverbially, and with a slight tremor in your hand, you scroll to his name and hit the FaceTime button before you can think twice about it. The sound of the tone, as it rings, feels so loud, and each crisp ‘bringggg’ makes your nerves jangle. Just as you are about to hang up, the call connects.

“I'm sorry it took me so long to answer. I had to find a private spot.” he sounds a little winded.

“Where are you?” you frown, an unfamiliar background behind him.

“My childhood bedroom. Aubrey Hall.”

“Oh my god! Show me!” You enthuse, your initial equivocation derailed by nosiness, which you decide to frame instead in your mind as mere curiosity.  You never got to see it the wedding weekend for, well, reasons you don't want to dwell on right now.

He quickly flips the camera around, giving you an audio-guided tour of the room he grew up in. Dark blue walls with framed posters for his beloved Blur alongside Travis, Radiohead and Shaun of the Dead. Silly stick-on glow-in-the-dark stars on the high ceiling that are likely too high for anyone to bother getting out a ladder and peeling off. Shelves with little wooden car models he made with his dad before he died, mixed in with certificates of achievement from school, shiny brass archery trophies, and his early sketches in those cheap snap-in frames. And lastly, a collection of jagged small rocks and colourful pebbles. It makes you feel so very affectionate for little teenage Benedict.

“You are bloody adorable!” you blurt out, almost forgetting all the awkwardness from the past few weeks.

The camera flips around, and his lopsided grin fills the screen. “Thank you. I try to make a habit of it…”

You smile back and then sigh. “I’ve missed this,” you confess quietly, wistfully. 

“I’ve missed this too. You. Us. Can we please be friends again? Please? I know we both have a lot of things to talk about. With that night and all… but… can we reset? I need you, Bluey. I am miserable without my best friend,” he pouts, his raw honesty making your chest ache. 

It’s exactly how you feel, too. Except with a massive pang of regret that he seems to want to forget your magical night together. Sex is never like that, at least not for you—electric and addictive. Doing a reset to save your friendship feels like the most logical step. Still, it doesn’t stop the “what if” fantasies running in your head with increasing frequency, especially on a day like today—nostalgia, sentiment and overindulgence swirling in your being. 

“I would like us to be friends again,” you exhale, a lie by slight omission, drumming your fingertips on your cheek nervously to stop you from saying more. 

“Wonderful! Then it is so! I can’t wait to see you again! Are you going to the New Year's party? The one Simon & Daph are hosting at the Sky Terrace? Cos if you are, I was wondering, if you don’t have a date if we could go together? We always said we would be each other's plus one if neither of us is with anyone…”

That he wants to completely reset to that world makes your heart crack. You want to scream at him, ‘No! I want to be your real date! Pick me, for real, this time!’

“I… can’t do that,” you waver, and it comes off sounding tired.

“You have a date?” It’s soft, hesitant, trepidatious.

“No…” you admit, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea to go together like that. I… I can’t be your consolation prize anymore, Benedict,” you blurt out, the hurt taking over your tongue.

The look of stunned surprise on his face makes it worse. As if he had never even seen it from that perspective.

“That’s not what I….” he begins but is interrupted by a loud door bang as it slams into the wall and a yelling voice.

“Stop fucking hiding and get your bloody arse back downstairs. You can’t miss family dinner on Christmas Day!” Colin scolds loudly offscreen.

“I’ve got to go…,” he sighs reluctantly as an arm manhandles him up and off the bed. “Merry Christmas,” he adds, belatedly realising you both forgot to say it earlier on the call.

“Whoever it is, hang up. No one is more important than family on Christmas,” Colin gripes. “That’s it, I’m taking your phone…”.

The screen is filled with random shapes and loud noises as they seem to wrestle like children. And then the call suddenly disconnects. 

You sigh and tip sideways against the cold tile of your parents' cloakroom wall.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

__

Benedict takes stock of his surroundings. December 31st, 11:00pm, lying on his stomach on his sectional chaise, staring up at the big flatscreen on his wall.

This isn't so bad… he tries to convince himself. I've got Jools Holland’s Hootenanny - the only decent New Year's programme, some Glenfiddich and Mini Cheddars - the best snack there is… 

He sighs and realises how pathetic he sounds, even in his own mind, alone in an empty flat.

__

The man whirls you around, and you are almost thrown straight into Kate and Anthony.

“I should never have let you drag me to this,” you grouse so only they can hear.

They both shoot you an apologetic look until you are whipped away again. This man’s dancing style is more akin to a waltzer amusement ride than anything sensual or fun. Your shoulder is already aching. It's a far cry from the surprising salsa Benedict pulled out of the bag last New Year’s Eve. And the idle thought of him has you spiralling…

“Mind if we stop?” you puff as the band finishes the song with a flourish. He’s some slick European investment banking type, and really, you couldn't give two shits about offending him, merely your ingrained politeness kicking in.

He nods and goes off to grab drinks as you stand, hands on hips, trying to gather your breath as you watch all the people moving like a mass of limbs on the crowded dancefloor as the following number begins.

Why the fuck am I here?

__

This is much better… Benedict rationalises to himself as he wanders down the rainy, empty East London streets not far from his Hoxton pad. Who needs to be at a big, crowded party pretending to have a good time?

He pauses outside a trendy shop on Old St, selling overpriced crap that he's not even sure what it is.

See? I can do some window shopping. He tells himself silently—clutching at anything to distract himself from the creeping sense of dread in his gut. A slow twisting knife as he thinks about you dancing the night away, ringing in the New Year with some fancy, handsome man who definitely doesn't deserve you.

What does it matter to me? We are just friends. Best friends… the only friend I ever want to see every day… the only one who truly matters….

He has thought about how to repair the damage between you so much over the last few weeks that he's exhausted himself. Really, he just wants you back. All of you, ideally, but being realistic, any part of yourself you will let back into his life. The suggestion of a reset he made on Christmas Day being his cowardly way out.

—

You are fake laughing at the banker’s story as you lean around the pillar you are backing yourself against in an attempt to secure more personal space. Glad of the heated lamps and the glass overhang to shelter from the drizzle.

“I'm going home,” you growl.

“You’ll never find an Uber,” Kate points out deadpan as you turn back around and keep faking amusement.

__

Just as his thoughts spiral, Benedict hears a chuckle on the other side of the road. There, a couple are laughing together, wrapped in each other's arms, kissing, looking like no one else in the world matters… and it’s like a lightning rod hits him square in the chest.

Suddenly, all he can see are images of you, fluttering like motioned-filled playing cards from above, swirling into his eyeline, then floating onto the glistening pavement around him. Vignettes of his life and where you intersect at so many pivotal moments. The day he left uni - the car ride where you bickered like an old married couple, the day he moved to Paris - your dilated pupils and hitched breath on the Eurostar when he whispered in your ear, the unerring sympathy when you heard about his divorce, the way you held his hand when you wandered after dinner somewhere (he doesn't even recall where… only that it was with you), watching movies together on FaceTime, your incredulity when he confessed to his uneventful recurring sex dream, your surprise and, yes, arousal as he led you in the salsa dance, the way you tucked so neatly into his arms haunting him. And finally, how it felt to be buried inside your gorgeous body as you clung to him, calling his name like a siren song, intimacy like he has never known, the profundity of the connection petrifying the very life out of him. 

But as he stares down at his tatty old Converse, the same ones he wore the day you met, in fact, all he sees in the puddle beneath him is the simple truth he has been in denial about, possibly for a decade or more. Rippling refractions of your face - your knowing smile, bright eyes, your wonderful, happy expression…

And before his brain acknowledges it, his feet are moving….

Walking fast…

Then it’s a jog…

Then it’s a run….

.. his feet carrying him to the one place he knows with every fibre of his being he wants to be.

—

You wander as if in a daze, seemingly surrounded by nothing but couples, kissing, dancing, whispering, and it's the final straw. You spy Kate and Anthony sipping champagne together and slope over.

“I'm going,” you sigh.

“But it's almost midnight,” Anthony protests.

“Being surrounded by people kissing is just…” you shrug, melancholy creeping in like a clingy fog around your heart.

“I’ll kiss you,” Kate placates, and Anthony perks up to no end at that suggestion, nodding enthusiastically as you both roll your eyes, bemused. “Stay? Please?” she pleads, pouting and grabbing your hands.

“Thanks, Kate. But no. I have to go. Have a wonderful night,” you bid them, kissing her gently on the cheek. “Happy New Year,” you whisper as she returns the greeting.

__

Benedict's lungs are burning as he races down Old St towards Shoreditch, not far from where you celebrated last year. He ignores the ache in his muscles and keeps going, checking his watch to see 11:56pm and racing harder.

I need to be there at midnight!

__

As you walk to pick up your coat, a sight makes your heart leap into your mouth and stops you dead in your tracks.

There, rounding the top stair, casual in old faded jeans, those ancient Converse and a chunky knit jumper… is Benedict. Hair fluffy and dishevelled from the rain, out of breath and scanning the crowd desperately. As if he is seeking someone.

Then his eyes finally land on you, and your world tilts. 

Oh god, is he here… for… me?!?

Then he is striding purposefully towards you, and it seems like the crowds part. His eyes blisteringly intense, like they were on that fateful night. You try to school your face, aiming for casual indignance; you probably fail spectacularly— your heart thumping wildly.

“I've been doing a lot of thinking…” he begins as he pulls up before you. “And the thing is… I love you..”

Everything grinds to a halt, and your head feels dizzy.

This must be a prank, surely?

“What?” you stutter, disbelief rocking your core.

“I love you,” he says with a simple shrug as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ben.. I… what do you expect me to say?” you blurt out, floored.

“How about you love me too,” he smiles a tiny fraction, and you hate it.

You hate how RIGHT he is. Your body is a total jumble of live wires, but your mind is suddenly calm. It's like the clouds of your thoughts part, and it all seems crystal clear. And yet, something in your stubborn heart won't let you admit it. Terrified what it could mean to voice it.

“Look, Ben, I know it's New Year, and I know you may be lonely tonight. But please don't do this,” you implore haltingly, tears prickling hot in the corners of your eyes, “...not like this,” you whisper, defeated.

“Okay, how about like this….” he throws his hands up. “I love that you won't admit you love me. I love that you are looking at me like you want to kill me right now. I love that my body is screaming at me cos I ran here as fast as I could.” he gestures down at his slightly shaky legs.

“Ten seconds to New Year's!!” a loud voice blares out over the speakers.

“TEN!!” the crowd chants.

“I love that we are idiots who would never admit to how in love we are.”

“NINE!”

“I love that you are my blue lobster, rare and beautiful as a diamond but a delicious soft treat under that hard as nails shell….” 

“EIGHT!”

He tilts your chin to look up at him, a thumb swiping a tear you didn't even know had escaped. 

“SEVEN!”

“Don't leave me out here in the wind, y/n…,” he murmurs softly.

“SIX!”

“I… I love that you never give up,” you whisper so quietly even you can barely hear it. 

The smile that lights up Benedict’s face makes your whole being feel like the stars live inside your chest.

“FIVE!”

“I love that you take homemade salads on a road trip,” he smirks playfully, referring to the first day you spent together all those years ago.

“FOUR!” 

“I love that you kept your amazing dance prowess under wraps,” you laugh over a stilted snuffle, everything in you fizzling.

“THREE!”

“I love that I can still smell you on my clothes after we spend the day together,” he sighs, moving in closer, your eyes hypnotised by the movement of his cupid’s bow.

“TWO!”

“I love that you came here tonight,” you admit, your hands circling his forearms as you sway slightly in unison.

“ONE!”

“I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night,” he confesses, his lips ghosting over yours now, smiling crookedly even as he speaks.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!” the crowd chants.

All around you, party poppers go off, colourful ribbons of streamers, and the sound of glasses clinking fills the air. But it’s background noise, your whole focus on each other.

Finally, your lips meet, the fireworks under your ribs matching those in the skies above, the same as it was that first time weeks ago. You melt into each other's embrace, your kiss a seal of a pact and the promise of something new and infinite.

“For the record,” he rumbles, his minty breath hot on your lips, the strains of Auld Lang Syne ringing around the rooftop. “I'm not saying this because I’m lonely and not because it’s the New Year. I came here tonight because when you finally realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start…”

“...as soon as possible,” you exhale, completing his sentence with him as he nods, grinning from ear to ear. 

The drunken chorus around you gets louder; he chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ve never understood this stupid song.”

“I think it’s about remembering not to forget. Or not forgetting to remember. Or something,” you peal a laugh, knowing you are talking gibberish and not giving a damn. “Anyway, it’s about old friends,” you add pointedly, moving in for another spine-tingling, heart-melting kiss.

As you part, he cradles your jaw in his hands. “It was only ever you, y/n,” he sighs, hazy eyes burning into yours, his whisper fervent but contented into your skin. “It had to be you.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies

[omgwhatchloe]

why is the top post on my fav boys tag ai trash…

sean macguire modern headcanons to change that!!

-very firmly lives in the mansion with the rest of the gang and would never want to move out (like the marstons) because he doesnt want to pay bills

-took time and effort into decorating his room and even got lenny to decorate it too since he basically moved in. its filled with random ornaments, posters, cheap things from amazon and a huge irish flag over his bed. even if he didn’t resonate with the things in his room much, he would NOT have it looking bare.

-the worst for being on his phone constantly but wont respond to anyone but lenny or his da, not that anyone else is too keen to message him. his camera roll is also a mess off accidental screenshots and bad pictures of things he hasnt needed to look at in months. OCCASIONALLY theyll be a sweet picture of jack or lenny, but theyre buried so deep in his brain rot camera he forgets about them until a birthday or something.

-darragh always facetimes him at seans convience, so staying up late to speak to him. funnily enough, darragh knows tech more than sean.

“right, iv to go now da! where-how-”

“okay, sean…the red button. just click the screen-”

“i AM-" “and a red button-” “its this shite phone-" “ill just cut off…”

-buys cheap shit online as random presents for other people. lenny for some reason has a glowing turtle keychain…he doesnt have keys. abigail is plagued with random stuff he bought jack that the kid hasn’t bothered with in ages because he only cares about his ipad.

-is unfortunately subjected to being sent ‘relatable irish memes’ by many of the other members who just assume he relates and dont think twice. john sent him one of a “classic irish mammy” tiktok trying to be nice and it went like this

john: [video] lol i bet u went through this😂

sean: no cuz i dont have a ma john

there is also

mary-beth: [meme about growing up protestant in north of ireland/northern ireland that she didnt read hard enough]

sean: ?

mary-beth: Isn’t that how you grew up?

sean: im catholic and from the republic

mary-beth: ???

-related to the online shit one, he is a food hoarder. he is always ordering food from random sweet companys or just over spending in walmart then keeping it all in his room and barely eating any of it. it disappears because lenny steals it and eventually it gets left somewhere then put in the kitchen.

-he, along with bill, arthur and karen, is banned from a random bar and no one, not even those involved, has the slightest idea why. they just assumed it had something to do with a night out they can all barely remember and left it as that. sometimes he does wonder why it was just them four who got banned.

-has not got a drivers license, isnt planning on getting one, and drives the most in the gang because darragh taught him as a necessary life skill. has the least crashes but drives the fastest and most reckless. he is genuinely proud of how well he can drive.

[myemuisemo]

It's week 3 of Letters from Watson, and there is an elephant in the room.

We're going to feel the elephant's trunk, but first I want to crawl into the mindset of a contemporary 1887 reader. It's been a long time since I watched the Jeremy Brett versions of Sherlock Holmes, so if my impressions are shaped by that experience, it's in an indirect subconscious way.

Holmes' explanation of how he spotted the courier as a retired sergeant of Marines indicates that he's storing a good deal of trivia about military services in the lumber room of his mind.

Gregson and Lestrade, the best of Scotland Yard, are blessed with the Victorian compliments of being "quick and energetic." Watson, in his rush to order a cab, is also implied to value quickness and energy over whatever thought processes Holmes is about to introduce. When not humored in his rush to be useful, he falls into a sulk.

Gregson is the whitest of whitely white guys, from pale face to flaxen hair. The fact that he's not the slightest bit red-faced suggests both that he rarely sees the sun (well, London fog) and that he doesn't drink. There's very likely a teeny bit of a joke here in calling him Gregson, since Watson would certainly have been aware of the work of Joseph Gelson Gregson, the Baptist preacher and Army chaplain whose mission in the 1860s-70s was to convert British Indian Army soldiers to total abstinence from alcohol. Will our Gregson turn out to be zealous and self-righteous?

If Gregson did not arrive in a cab, and Lestrade did not arrive in a cab, then likely there are some specific sort of tire marks in the mud.

Now, the house at 3 Lauriston Gardens came close to baffling me. Obviously, when I first read the Sherlock Holmes stories as a mid-sized child, I knew only sprawling ranch tract homes, so the description of the 3-story vacant house was just "ooh, creepy!"

That numbering really suggests its an attached rowhouse, though. That would be consistent with development down Brixton Road in the mid-19th century. There are so, so many terraces of identical attached houses in yellowish brick. Here's Google Maps demonstrating 3-story terraced rowhouses on Handforth Road, just off Brixton Road. These are a little too new, dating from the 1890s, so we've got to imagine a Brixton Road area that's still far less developed -- things that look "old" to us weren't there yet.

These remind us that as London built outward, the rowhouses usually did not have two features that Lauriston Gardens has: a front garden and a center hall. The front garden suggests that the intent of the four dwellings composing Lauriston Gardens was to be a little more suburban and bucolic than the typical urban terrace. Its general aura of mud indicates that it has failed at this promise.

But move on down Brixton Road to the 300 block, and here we are with that garden! These are 3 stories, have a yard, have pillars suggested Greek Revival (1850s-60s), and are depressing af.

Maybe it's my years in the Albany-Troy (NY) area speaking, but these are exuding "we are holding onto middle class by our slipping fingernails." I think that is actually the impression Doyle intends to give: Lauriston Gardens was never quite perfectly respectable, even in its heyday, but it was trying.

That center hall still troubles me. A middle-class rowhouse typically has a side hall, which holds the staircase volume. The parlor is then either narrow (one window) or wide (two). Lauriston Gardens is built with a center hall (pointing to a more lavish lifestyle) but only one "reception" room deep. It has "offices" (butler's pantry or whatever) and a kitchen on the main floor, not in the basement.

Something like this, a titch further out Brixton Road, might be a fit if it weren't for the extra wing on the side. I think the dormer floor is a modern addition. These super-plain houses with only the pillared doorways look so grim, especially compared to the more ornamented Victorian styles.

If the reader is meant to feel uneasy at the mismatch between 3 Lauriston Gardens' pretensions and its actuality, we're there! In any case, the carpet has been pulled up (as was common, you took it with you when you moved), the florid older wallpaper is peeling, the fireplace mantle is a faux finish (yep, aspirations above our proper class), and there is a body on the floor.

Our body is wearing a frock coat, which was the formal daytime wear of a gentleman but on its way out of fashion by the 1880s. Broadcloth of the era had a felt-like feel and was known for durability. So our corpse is respectable, practical, probably conservative in habits, and possibly punching a bit above his social class.

And he has a "simious and ape-like appearance," which worries the heck out of me in a modern 2023 sense. Watson, as the late Victorian everyman, refers to common notions of facial bone structure indicating character. Simian is never good; it's an indicator of primitive, uncouth nature. I'm going to hope hard that we are solely being set up to see the dead man as representative of the worst sort of grasping, self-centered, profit-minded, uncouth American. We're definitely supposed to "get" that, as the house is failing at its pretentions, so too is the dead body trying to be something above its class.

I am nervous for next week, and I'm determined not to look ahead. I'm going to sit with my discomfort like a proper serial-reader, so don't spoiler it for me!

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 18

welcome to the eighteenth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. A Kind Of Cosmic Joke by @eatdirt

And it's not like it's a big deal. It's decidedly not a big deal. Really it's hardly a deal at all. It's just that, maybe, in the trick of the light, if you squint and turn your head just so, Keith is…

Keith is big.

nothing in the entire history of voltron legendary defender, nay the history of voltron entirely, is funnier than the moment where lance called keith grizzled. he absolutely deserves to be clowned on for that for eternity, even in modern aus, like this fic. lance freaking out about keith getting bigger is funny in every universe in every way and this fic nails it lol

2. only a hippopotamus will do by perfchan

Lance walks into the kitchen and stops. Physically stops, the cup in his hand that’s in need of a refill completely forgotten.

He turns, slowly. Raises an eyebrow. Are those...cookies? He blinks.

Yep. He leans in closer to inspect. Sugar cookies in the shape of pine trees. Green icing, mostly, with the stars on top slathered on in yellow. Well. They’re sort of messy, more like green and yellow blobs, actually. But that’s clearly the intention. Sprinkles for ornaments.

Christmas cookies.

There’s a whole plate of them---a paper plate, stacked high with handmade cookies, wrapped in plastic wrap---and they just randomly appeared. Right here on his kitchen counter.

Lance huffs out little sigh and shakes his head. Maybe mutters something under his breath. But he doesn’t give it much thought once he’s left the kitchen. Afterall, his perpetually cranky, sourfaced roommate basically lives to do weird shit to annoy him. Or something. Lance has found that living with Keith means one thing: expect the unexpected.

And everything tends to get a little crazier when the holidays roll around.

sweetheart keith! overdramatic lance! yes yes yes! and i mean overdramatic lance in this fic lmfao he is epitome dramaqueen bisexual. this fic kills me tho bc for starters its a modern au, and i fckn love modern aus, but further still it is an au wherein lance gets keith as a roommate entirely bc he finds keith hot and his smile breathtaking. what a dumbass nerd. love him

3. Trying Times by @shyfoxes

Keith comes back Hot and Lance has a crisis on the bottom bunk.

u know those fics that make u fan ur face a little? not necessarily bc it’s explicit or anything but bc its just so swoony and romantic and shit and ur embarrassed about how affected u are?? that’s this fic.

4. As If by @surveycorpsjean

The five times Lance was his impulse control, and the one time he wasn't.

y’all know me with 5+1s. i love this one in particular tho bc keith is such a prick lmao. i love when keith is rough and scowly and doesnt handle other people well and can’t emote to save his life. i love when he loves deeply and endlessly with his whole heart but in the least conventional possible way, and i love fics where lance slowly learns to recognise the strange ways in which keith says i-love-you and this fic kills that

5. A Human Thing by @xirayn

Lance comes through a wormhole as a woman. It doesn't change much. aka Lance is gender fluid so getting gender bent by space magic only presents one problem, which turns out not to be Keith.

“Lance, can we just talk? After that you can go back to avoiding me.” Lance scoffed even as her eyes remained stubbornly forward. “I’m not avoiding you.” “Then what are you doing?” That earned him a glare, which would have been annoying if not for how happy Keith was to have her looking at him again. “I’m being a good partner and giving you space while I'm not your type.” Keith crossed his arms and met her eyes with a glare of his own, brow furrowed and lips a tight line. “Not my type?” Lance let out a long sigh of exasperation. “Female, Keith. I don't want you to feel like you have to force yourself to be attracted to women just because your boyfriend currently is one.”

genderfluid lance loml! this fic explores that entire concept so so well, even with the complications of extablished klance and team dynamics and UGH this fic is genuinely one of my faves. the slow trickle to the reveal near the end was planted there the whole time, but i was so caught up that i didnt realise it so when it finally came to light i was gagged!!

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!  

[youre-ackermine]

Some Levihan first Christmas living together headcanons nobody asked for ☃️

Characters: Levi Ackerman / Hange Zoe (mention of Erwin Smith / Miche Zacharias)

Modern AU / SFW / established relationship / non binary Hange / mention of alcohol

You can find a moodboard for these headcanons HERE

Hange’s been leading the pharmaceutical research department in Trost University for a few months now and Levi is a personal trainer at Nanaba’s Gym, the trendiest health club in town

They met at Erwin and Miche’s housewarming party

After two years dating, Levi & Hange finally moved in together just after Halloweeen. They found a small apartment downtown. The neighbourhood is lively yet quiet enough and it’s near both Hange’s lab and Levi’s workplace

The couple adopted a cute ginger cat they called Sawney

From mid-November on, an excited Hange drags a grumpy Levi into various Christmas activities. He’s reluctant at first but their childlike wonder and restless enthusiasm finally win him over

They go to a Christmas market to find some decorations for their tree. New tradition as a couple: every year they’ll buy a decoration for each other as a gift. Hange’s first ornament reads “stay weird”, Levi’s “festive as fuck” (wtf is wrong with you guys? could you be more romantic?)

Hange stops at every single stall, gushing over everything with ohs and ahs and “Leeeeviiii!! Did you see that? It’s cute/amazing/funny/classy [pick one]”and Levi has to prevent them from buying every single crap (his words, not mine) they find to their (often questionable) liking

One of those crap being a woolly hat for their Sawney “he looks so cute with his ears sticking out of the hat, right Shorty?” Levi rolls his eyes. “Tch, the poor cat looks like a dumbass, Four-Eyes.” But he secretly finds it cute

They both taste all sorts of treats and beverages at the Christmas market. Hange loves mulled wine and Levi just frowns and says it tastes like spiced horse piss (and Hange’s breath is awful after a few sips)

They also go ice-skating when the sun starts to set. Clumsy Hange is surprisingly very good at it and teaches Levi, who stumbles a few times at first but Hange catches him in their arms (and kisses him every time because why not?)

Unfortunately Levi seems to have a hard time finding balance, which is odd given his job at the gym, but who am I to judge? So more kisses ensue, obviously (Levi you little shit lmao)

His cheeks and ears are tinged with red but it’s probably because of the mulled wine or the freezing-ass cold I guess

Whenever they can, they wander around a different part of town by night to enjoy the Christmas lights clung to each other

They wrap gifts for their loved ones together. Levi can’t help but sigh: “how the hell did you manage to make this look like it’s some turd wrapped in toilet paper, Four-Eyes?” They grin sheepishly and hand him the box and he shows them how to do this properly. Again. For the fourth time in a row.

In the end, Levi neatly wrapped all the gifts by himself. Hange beams (Four-Eyes you little shit lmao)

On Sundays they take a walk in the snow. Hange sure as fuck starts a snowball fight. “But they’re heart-shaped, Shorty!” they whine when he complains about the cannonball that just hit him in the face

They build a cute snowman together and make snow angels. Levi complains (again) because cold snow is sneaking under his clothes and Hange slides their hands under his shirt. ”C’mon Mr Grumps, let me warm up this soft skin of yours ^^” [insert Levi rolling eyes here]

Once they’re back home, they bake Christmas cookies together. Hange is in charge of the topping but, of course, it looks ugly as hell. Not to mention the filthy state of the kitchen after the cooking session. But Levi doesn’t have the heart to be mad at them, it’s the holidays after all. He wipes the frosting and flour off their face and kisses them on the cheek instead ;))

They don’t make much money yet so Levi cooks homemade treats as gifts for their friends and family. Christmas cookies, small jars of various jams, ingredients to make a hot chocolate or a brownie put together in a Mason jar with the recipe tied to it. Levi enjoys doing this for his loved ones. Even if they can afford buying presents for everyone in the next years, this will probably remain a tradition

Hange, on the other hand, buys silly little items for everyone, the cheaper and the cringier the better!

One evening after work, they go pick their Christmas tree together. It’s small because they don’t have much room in their apartment. They can’t help but bicker about how it must be decorated: Levi wants to pick one or two colours for a harmonious rendering, whereas Hange wants to put as many different colours as possible (as they should). They decide to decorate it in Hange’s way this year and Levi’s way next year (you wish, Levi)

Evening ritual: they put on their pajamas, cuddle up on the couch under a cosy, soft blanket with a cup of hot chocolate, Sawney resting on Hange’s lap, and watch silly Christmas movies on tv. Home alone is Hange’s favourite of course: they can’t help but admire the kid’s ingenious mind

For Christmas Eve’s dinner, Levi sets a simple but beautiful table and cooks a delicious meal for the both of them

By midnight, they open their gifts, a green set of gloves and scarf for Levi, a funny lunchbox for Hange

On Christmas day, they’ll go to Erwin and Miche’s fancy party with matching ugly sweaters (because Hange said so) and little gifts for all their friends

We were talking about Christmas with @thehangetomylevi & about what Levi & Hange would do for their first Christmas together & these ideas started to pop up in my head!

Thanks Livia for encouraging me to post my silly Levihan Christmas HC 💚💜

Header: @youre-ackermine

Christmas divider: @saradika-graphics

▫️▫️▫️

A/N: not beta/proof read - English is not my usual language

[wanderersbell]

under the mistletoe

wanderer x gn!reader

genre: fluff, modern!au

warnings: none

word count: 1467

a/n: merry christmas eve everyone! this is my early present for u (´,,•ω•,,)♡ i know this has already been done before but i couldn't resist - also wanderer goes by kuni in this and he deserves a million kisses. enjoy!

for somebody who swears they don’t even like christmas that much, kuni cannot help but feel appalled by the amount of ‘holiday cheer’ you’ve let loose in the apartment today. 

just watching you run around the place for hours stringing up lights and setting out other various decorations has begun to make him feel tired, and all he’s had to do so far is help out with handing you thumbtacks and holding you steady on the step ladder a few times. 

tinsel, a wreath, and even two stockings for each of you hang from the walls that were plain just this morning, and the faint sound of christmas music from the tv has been going for so long that kuni swears he’s heard the playlist repeat twice already. every time he offers to help, you shoo him away and insist you need to do it a certain way, so he stopped trying a while ago and has since been standing back and slowly but surely losing his patience with nothing to do. 

his hands are itching with the desire to help with something while you hang tiny ornaments on the miniature tree that sits at the kitchen counter, and it’s not long before he loses the internal battle to his restlessness. 

“those ornaments are hideous.” kuni comments dryly from behind you. leaning back into his chest until his chin is resting over your shoulder, you snort lightly at his words and start tugging a broken hook out of an ornament. 

“do you need something to do?” you ask teasingly. he can feel your shoulders shaking with silent laughter against him and hums noncommittally, wrapping his arms around your waist while you try to work a new hook through the tiny glass ball. 

“do you want to check the box in the closet for my christmas candles then? i thought i had them under the sink but they weren’t-“ before you can even finish explaining, kuni detaches himself from your back and briskly strides down the hallway, ready to be the best damn candle-finder there ever was. he can hear you chuckling under your breath as he goes but pays no mind to it as he yanks open the closet door. 

the candles are indeed tucked nicely away in a box buried under a pile of coats, so he takes his time carefully hanging them all back up on the rack before tucking the heavy jars into his arms to bring back to you. they rattle as he walk in time with the bells in the background music and kuni can already hear the joke you’re about to make in his head before he rounds the corner. 

“no way, it’s the real santa in the flesh!” you jokingly gush, exactly the way he expected you would, and he has to fight the urge to smile. 

“ho ho ho,” he drawls in a bland tone while depositing them on the counter in front of you. yet your attention is still on the small tree, and kuni can’t help but feel slightly irked by its existence at the moment. 

your brows are drawn together in concentration while you continue trying to fix the stubborn hook and try as he might, kuni only lasts 30 grueling seconds before he scoffs and outstretches his hand. 

“let me do it.” 

with a tiny defeated pout that absolutely does not make his stomach flutter, you give him the ornament and lean over the counter with your chin in your hands to watch him effortlessly bend the hook into place and secure it. 

kuni can’t help but smile smugly at the equal parts irritated and impressed look on your face, but nearly regrets it a moment later when you slide the rest of the balls over to him and stand up. 

“will you do the rest of them? please?” you ask, so sweetly that it nearly gives him a cavity. heaving a dramatic sigh but inwardly relieved to have something to do finally, kuni picks up the next one and starts working on it. “fine, i guess.” 

he can see you reach over to pull out a stool from the corner of his eye, but you pause midway and retract your hand. “actually,” you start, a thoughtful look passing over your face. “i forgot something else, i’ll be right back.” 

making a small sound of acknowledgement in response, too focused on the task at hand, kuni gets a total of ten ornaments done before he eventually realizes you still haven’t come back, and a suspicious feeling creeps over him at the complete silence from down the hall where you disappeared. 

you’re certainly not quiet when you look for things, and he hasn’t heard the sound of anything breaking or the bathroom door being closed, so it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re up to something. 

hesitantly, he puts the glass ball down and exits the kitchen to investigate your whereabouts. the door is cracked open when he approaches your shared bedroom, and he nearly jumps in surprise when he finds you standing off to the side of the threshold with a mischievous look plastered all over your face. 

“jesus-“ kuni gasps, giving you a half-assed glare. you say nothing, only continuing to stare at him, and it pulls an almost alarmed frown out of him. 

“what were you doing, why are you looking at me like that?” he asks cautiously. 

still you remain silent, but your eyes momentarily flick somewhere above him before going back to his indigo ones and he’s quick to tilt his head back and follow your line of sight.  

there, taped haphazardly above the door frame, hangs a single mistletoe with a red ribbon tied around the stem. there’s a tiny silver bell hot-glued to the side that he remembers seeing you pull off an ornament and hide in your pocket earlier, which he had chosen to ignore. 

when he snaps his head back down he’s met with your breathtaking dreadful smile and a hot white flash of embarrassment rushes from his ears all the way to his feet, painting his cheeks with a soft flush that only deepens when you close the small distance and bring your hand up to cup the side of his face.

“this is what you forgot?” kuni mumbles, hands instinctively finding their way to your sides where they rest firmly. you giggle quietly and nod, bringing your other hand up until you’re cradling his face so tenderly that his heart skips a few beats. your eyelashes flutter softly with anticipation, and he feels entranced by your meaningful lidded gaze. 

“mhm. and just like i predicted, you came looking for me and got caught in my trap.” your eyes crinkle with mirth when you say this and kuni swears he almost forgets how to speak for a moment. 

“you don’t need such a lame excuse to kiss me.” he huffs, unintentionally leaning into your touch. 

“no, i don’t.” you agree airily. “but i’d never pass up the perfect opportunity to do so.”

unable to handle the weight of your caring eyes any longer, kuni leans forward and catches your lips in a gentle kiss. he’s hyper aware of the way your thumbs brush over his cheekbones and the feeling of your body pressed against his. every nerve in his body lights up all at once where you’re connected as your lips slide together in an adoring dance. 

you’re so warm and grounding against him that he never wants it to end, prolonging the kiss as much as he can until you finally have to pull away for air. your warm breath fans across his face as you catch your breath, faces still so close together that your noses brush. 

when his eyes meet yours, they give away everything he feels in that moment, overflowing with reverence and awe. your left hand slowly trails up the side of his face until you’re running your fingers through his hair, brushing his dark bangs out of his eyes and behind his ear. he hums contentedly at the feeling of your nails against his scalp and isn’t even thinking when he turns his head to the side to press a searing kiss against your palm. 

this time, you’re the one who’s blushing, and the fondness bleeding through your gaze burns itself into his memory for years to come. 

“i have a few more,” you whisper against his lips after pressing another soft peck against them. “wanna help me put them up?”

the intention behind your question doesn’t get lost on him, and kuni has to close his eyes and take a few deep breaths to keep himself from melting into a love struck puddle on the spot. 

he definitely won’t be letting you forget the mistletoe next year.

[yakuzacanons]

seasons greasons :) if you're up to it, could we perhaps some HCs for how the yakuza guys like to spend the holidays with their S/O? regardless of whatever they celebrate, ofc. the winter season is quite festive for all sorts of stuff. hope you're feeling alright btw! stay cozy and healthy ( ´･･)ﾉ(._.`)

SEASONS GREASONS skskskskskks u have my whole heart for that, also YES you can. Thanks for the well wishes too, unfortunately I have been slain by COVID so the sickness will continue. Doing my bestest though, headcanons below da cut.

Kazuma Kiryu

Lots of Christmas shopping for the kids at Morning Glory. Getting hot drinks and walking around together during a snowfall. He wouldn't expect you to do this with him but he likes to volunteer at events, like soup kitchens for the homeless, during this time of year.

Majima Goro

Him want go see the big fancy holiday lights with you. That's it. He just wanna go see some neat decorations and ooo and aaa. Also just wants to drink hot drinks and eat hot food with you.

Saejima Taiga

Doesn't care for public holiday events so much but he WILL be making a giant cauldron of homemade soup for you both. You don't have to help out but he would love it if you did!

Akiyama Shun

Not much a festive guy, typically spends holidays just sleeping a lot. Would go out for a particularly fancy dinner with you though. Does tag along for Christmas shopping if only to take notes on what you seem to like so he can buy it for you later.

Tanimura Masayoshi

He's pretty new at dating so he doesn't know what couples do for holidays but his personal tradition is making tons of handmade dumplings at Homeland and handing them out to all the families in the international district. He'd love it if you tagged along to help, maybe even tying some cute bows on the baskets before delivering them together.

Ryuji Goda

Big of heart and dumb of ass man Ryuji's favorite holiday thing to do is to make literally everyone in the Omi Alliance decorate the HQ. That includes you. Of course, since you are his literal favorite person, you get first and last say of what goes. It's really fun for the both of you, running around and throwing up decorations, telling grunts to put that there and not over there and what the hell were they thinking putting those lights with that color ribbon.

Nishikiyama Akira

He wants to visit all the cutest cafes and try their seasonal items. Nothing like a cutesy dessert for two... or two desserts. Or three. Also likes to wear matching scarves or matching gloves.

Daigo Dojima

He's also fairly unfamiliar with what couples do during the holidays but he's trying his best. Will take you out for a nice dinner for sure. He tends to prefer attending winter festivals instead of events for more modern holidays so if you're willing to try that, he'd love to go with you! His personal favorite holiday tradition is just enjoying hot tea while watching snow fall.

Mine Yoshitaka

He's pretty inward most of the time so holiday chaos just makes him want to stay home. Usually just decorates inside of his own home, he's not really religious but he likes the appearance of a Christmas tree so he typically goes with that. Would love to shop for some ornaments for you to hang up specifically.

Tatsuo Shinada

Literally all he wants to do is wear a Santa hat. That and probably go bar hopping on Christmas Eve. He's all about just relaxing and having a fun time, so long as he's with you. Would go caroling with you, although be warned he sings a little off key.

Ichiban Kasuga

He's probably one of the few out of all the boys that genuinely isn't picky about doing much during the holidays. As long as he gets to spend time with his loved ones, he's content. If it snows, he's definitely starting a snowball fight though. Would love to check out a holiday market with you though!

Tianyou Zhao

This silly head is making truck loads of homemade steamed buns and drinking a lot of tea and nothing can stop him from accomplishing his tasty holiday mission. He'd love to teach you how to make the buns. Likes watching you proudly place them in the steamer after he's filled them up.

Joon-Gi Han

His ass don't know nothin' about holidays! No, seriously, he's so confused. "Why's there a man in a red suit at the mall today?" Mostly just curious and kind of enamoured by all the activity spiking up all around the city. He's never really had a Christmas or much of any kind of holiday so you'll probably have to show him the ropes. Hot cocoa ends up being his favorite thing.

[whistlebell]

Encanto Mod List 🪄

Hello everyone! 👋

I did my best to compile all the mods, but I used so much that I'm pretty sure I may have left out a few. Sorry! Let me know what I've missed, and I'll do my best to find the source and add it to the list!

Please note that I own/have made none of these mods. All credits go to the incredible authors and mod makers from Nexus and Naver behind these beautiful mods and retextures!

🌟 INTERFACE

Script Font, Kitsch Interface, Love of Cooking UI Recolor

🌳 OUTDOORS

Delloti's Flower Retexture, Medieval DNT, OnOff Map Retexture, Seasonal Fences, Seasonal Floorings, Stardew Foliage Redone, Yatho Lee Meteorite, Zenith Farm, Lumisteria Short Flowery Grass, StarDust's Maps Retexture, Better Resources, DaisyNiko's Tilesheets

🏠 BUILDINGS

Overgrown Fairy Buildings, More Overgrown Fairy Buildings, Rocky Junimo Hut, Romantic Greenhouse, Statues as Obelisks, Tanga Forest Gold Clock, v1.4 misc recolour, Fish Ponds by Gweniaczek, Flowery Bin, Glass Jar Mailbox, Medieval Tractor Garage, Hot Air Balloon Retexture

🐑 ENTITIES

Mi's and eemie's Butterflies, Cuter portrait for MrGinger, Mermaid Replaces Mariner, Cuter Fatter Goats, Solip's Coop Animals, Altaria Horse Replacer, Aquarium Fish Retexture, Pet Hamster Retexture

🖌️ INTERIOR

Zyr's Multipurpose Shed, Cozy Farmhouse Kitchen, Lnh's Barn, Lnh's Coop, Lnh's New Slime Hutch, Ria's Third Farmhouse, Rustic Country Town Interior, Shed is Cafe, Spacious Greenhouse,Yet Another Wallpaper Mod

🛋️ FURNITURE

Yellog's Furniture, Gwen's Medieval Craftables, Modern Floor Lights, Cosy Cafe, Shyzie's String Lights, Greenhouse Furniture, Shyzie's Rugs, Cookie Run Kingdom Lightning Rod,Flower Power Furniture, Ornamental Garden Furniture, Cookie Run Kingdom Ostrich,Who's Happy New Year Furniture, Industrial Furniture Set, Outdoor Decorations (swings, fountains, etc.), Cookie Run Kingdom Furniture, Cookie Run Kingdom Crops, Cookie Run Kingdom Craftables

🧺 ITEMS

Better Artisan Goods, Better Crops and Foraging, Better Fishing and Beach Foraging, Better Gems and Minerals, Better Rings, Lux Food Mod, Museum Artifacts Reimagined, MSaturn Floaties, Sprogs Floral Tappers, Aesthetic Garbage

👗 FARMER

Luo Li's top and skirt26, Do Eun's Female Body, Animals and Mythological Creatures Stuff, H Youn's Hair, Beommung's 140 tops pack, Geulhwa's sleeves, Rago's loose fit sleeve, Rago's overfit sleeve, Jjolipong's Closet

👥 VILLAGERS

Alex Portrait, Alex Sprite, Adorable Kid Portraits, Toddlers like Parents, Seasonal Aideen Portraits

[indignantlemur]

Hi !

To you, how does common Andorian habitats look like (decoration, arrangement and number of rooms...) ?

Take care ! 👁️👄👁️ 💅🏼

Hello, zier!

So I spent some time thinking about this, as I generally do when asked a question, and this is what I've come up with.

Andorian homes and habitats vary pretty wildly depending on whether or not you're looking at smaller, modern homes for insulated family units, ancient Clan Lodges, smaller work-sleep apartments, bachelor/bachelorette pads, and so on.

Likewise, decorations and furniture can vary between all of these options. Structural arrangements are more static, at least.

🪐General Overview:

Homes of all types tend to be open plan affairs interrupted with strategic choke points and regrettably necessary load-bearing walls. Andorians don't generally go in for doors in most areas, and their concept of privacy is more theoretical than anything else - from a Human perspective, at least - but they also value security highly and will compromise such preferences for safety's sake.

Sanitary areas are, of course, another exception to the preference for open plans, but it's also very common for Andorians within a Clan to bathe and groom themselves communally or soak in hot springs together. Andorians don't view bodies as things to be hidden or to be ashamed of, and they view other species' tendencies to be body-shy as both bizarre and kind of adorable, if a little immature. Much like the Romans, most Andorians would spent all day in their hot springs and baths if they could get away with it and quite often a Clan Lodge's hot spring is a hub of social activity, particularly for Andorians who have been off-planet for some time. You're not properly home until you've had a good soak and caught up with everyone.

Sleeping quarters are separate from the main areas of the house, but the quarters themselves are large and mostly open. A popular design feature in Clan Lodges is a honey-comb like series of open, low-walled alcoves around the perimeter of a massive room, and another set around a central support beam in the middle of the room, effectively creating 'rooms' within the space. These alcoves can be collapsed or removed as needed, but no one is ever completely shut off from everyone else. Some Clans and families have a more permanent variation of this design that is built into the structure of the home itself and cannot be removed or collapsed; this allows for residents to have their own specific spaces within the home, more along the lines of how Humans think of their bedrooms, but even these are open to some degree.

Alternatively, on ships and smaller, more modern buildings you'll see the sleeping quarters as a large, inset area filled with cushions and blankets on what is effectively a floor-mattress. This is what Dagmar experienced on the transport ship to Andoria, and also in the Andorian embassy on Earth.

Kitchens and living rooms/dining areas tend to flow into one another, with the kitchen being marginally separated from the rest to manage heat output and such. Formal dining areas for observing particular traditions or hosting important guests do exist, and those are generally separate rooms, but most Andorians prefer to eat and sleep communally wherever they can; these formal rooms tend to gather dust for long stretches between events.

🪐Primary Differences:

Apartments: Work-sleep apartments and bachelor/ette pads are very similar in that they are small, compact, and generally barebones. They have all the amenities, but they're cookie-cutter basic with minimal ornamentation, three rooms total (bedroom, bathroom, open living/dining/kitchen/entrance). Dagmar lives in a work-sleep apartment adapted to suit her physiology (with doors - the horror!) which suits her just fine, but most Andorians regard them as a necessary evil to prevent ungodly commutes from their Clan territories and family homes to the major city centers. Generally, work-sleep apartments and pads are rented, limiting the amount of personalization possible, but those who make use of such residences usually go out of their way to compensate with wild furnishings and bold decorations.

Bachelor/ette pads are an even more spartan version of the work-sleep apartments, serving largely as crash pads for students and, quite often, young adults who'd prefer to play out of public view. They consist of the bare necessities and little else; generally speaking, the folks who make use of these pads aren't paying much attention to the decor or the appliances.

Some Clans own multiple work-sleep apartments and pads around their home cities for their clan members to make use of as needed. Technically, they are meant to be used for professional purposes, but as long as everything is in order when their clansman departs, no questions are asked. Many a young couple (or group, as the case may be) has taken advantage of this in the past.

Modern Homes: Modern homes are somewhere between work-sleep apartments and a Lodge, being larger and more expansive in size than an apartment by a significant margin but modest compared to the sprawling ancient strongholds. Modern homes tend to be closer to long-houses with wings added on, where all of the major gathering points (kitchen, living areas, sleeping quarters) are centrally placed while other facilities and are located in attached wings. Multiple stories are common, and usually a basement level is present for cold storage of food, but single level homes are also readily found.

Modern homes don't have access to hot springs, unless there's one available for the community at large, but that doesn't stop Andorians from constructing heated pools and steam-rooms to make up for the lack.

Fully customisable from painting to outright renovating and remodelling, each generation that lives in such a home leaves their mark upon the structure in some fashion or another.

Clan Lodges: Clan Lodges are built like ancient fortresses - because that's exactly what they are. Surrounded on all sides by towering walls, each Lodge is built to endure. Common historical features include: murder holes (also called meurtrières and machicolations), switch-back paths, massive portcullises, multiple internal gates and checkpoints, panic rooms, and barracks. Andorians adore murder holes. Additionally, Clan Lodges all have a central hearth-hall which is so named for the long, narrow hearth that runs down the center line of the room in an inset trench. Modern inventions have rendered these hearths largely symbolic, and many of the more cosmopolitan Clans have converted them to hard-light displays rather than constantly burning inefficient fuel.

Most Clan Lodges will have at least one courtyard, often multiple, and not one is decorative. Every courtyard serves a purpose, even if it's just to cultivate food or other natural resources. It is a poor Clan indeed who cannot boast at least one natural hot spring on their lands. Steam rooms and communal bathing facilities are not only common but expected, though the option to attend to matters of hygiene privately is available for those who are sick or injured.

A very small number of Lodges have the unique trait of having separate sleeping quarters for the different rankings within a Clan, but these are most commonly found in the very remote regions of Andoria and are generally looked upon as relics of a bygone era.

🪐Decorations and Arrangements:

Andorian decor is a riotous mix of wild colours, traditional folk art, modern textiles, and ancient carvings. Nearly every Andorian home has carvings throughout it, usually stonework or metal, often depicting historical events relating to the family or the Clan in some fashion. Wall tapestries are a common feature, as are heavy fur throws and decorative metalwork. There's no single rule for decorations. Just like how there's a great deal of variation in a single Human neighbourhood for furniture and decor, the same is true of Andorians.

That said, there are overarching design principles that can be applied.

Very little wood is used in Andorian design and architecture, as it's a rare and expensive material on their planet, and when it does appear it's usually as an accent rather than a main feature.

The furniture is always meant to accommodate groups of four or more. You won't see two barstools at a kitchen counter, for example, but four. Very rarely will you see configurations that Andorians would feel exclude someone from a larger group, particularly furniture intended for communal areas. Most furniture isn't terribly high off the ground, which can be jarring for some aliens, and beds in particular are either at ground level or inset into the floor.

Kitchens tend towards sleek designs for ease of maintenance and cleanliness, though that has never stopped Andorian families from adding their own personal touches to such rooms anyway.

Formal dining tables are often low-set affairs surrounded by cushions and floor-chairs, made up of lacquered rings that rotate clockwise or counter-clockwise as needed, usually laden with bowls and trays of offerings intended to be cooked in a central pot of hot oil, speared on long, two-pronged forks with hooked inner teeth. By contrast, casual dining arrangements are a much more familiar table-and-chairs set up, often in booths but not always.

Extremely formal arrangements, such as what might be seen at a high-level political dinner or gala, involve a long table studded with hot pots surrounded with stacks of tiered rings of similar trays and bowls, with the host seated at the head on one side and the most important guest seated opposite of them on the other. This is typically not seen outside of high society events.

While Humans might be tempted to apply a cold, modern-Scandinavian palette to their mental visions of Andorian homes, that couldn't be further from the truth. As a people, they value warmth and colour and comfort in their homes, and the sterile, minimalist aesthetic often seen on Earth is actually very off-putting for them.

Hope this answers everything!

[spiderceo]

WORLD SWAP AU

warnings: slight scopophobia (fear of staring)

a/n: welcome to my funky lil au inspired by @aerkame and their ‘alive au’. i really like the idea of the puppets somehow ending up in the reader’s world and making their life ten times harder than it needs to be lol

master post

🌟 you were never a morning person so you always hit the snooze button the moment your alarm went off. you reached over like you usually do to your alarm clock but instead of the usual metal, you grabbed onto something soft and squishy like…felt? hold on-

🌟 you opened one eye only to come face to face with a little yellow puppet staring at you widely with a grin. it’s blue hair in your hands and nothing but staring between you both. time seemed to pause as you waited for your brain to catch up but then it suddenly spoke:

🌟 “…good morning, neighbour.” it smiled brightly.

🌟 you let out a screech that could burst eardrums and tried to put as much distance between you and this creature. you backed into the wall against the other side of your bed and just kept screaming bloody murder. the puppet was also screaming alongside you but it wasn’t scared, it was just copying you.

🌟 cut to a few minutes after and you are standing in your living room with all of the puppets crammed on your couch. they all came in varying sizes so it made their squeeze to fit rather difficult. the puppet who almost gave you a heart attack introduced himself as wally and then told you the names of all the others. the fact you even felt sane enough to sit and listen to them all talk over each other for your attention was a miracle. most people would have either fainted or gone back to bed in hopes this was just a bad dream.

🌟 for some reason, the shock of these living puppets in your home wore off pretty quickly. it was probably the idea of having to take care of them and the stress it would put you through that did it. no time to be in shock when your entire life needed to be rearranged.

🌟 none of the puppets could find a way to explain their situation. “one day we were playing, and the next we were here!” the one named sally exclaimed, using her arms expressively as she talked. it wasn’t like you were much help in this situation. you were just as confused as they were.

🌟 the rest of the day went by a bit chaotically. these new roommates of yours caused a lot of trouble. they didn’t know anything about the modern world apparently so you had to teach them like they were children. they asked about everything from the toaster to your toothpaste. curiosity was something they all didn’t lack.

🌟 keeping them entertained wasn’t a hard job. it meant that you could process your situation and figure out a way to send them back to where they came from.

🌟 frank was interested in your bookshelves. you found him reading pride and prejudice. the speed at which he read amused you greatly. they were practically flying through the pages.

🌟 you had to teach poppy how to use your kitchen. all she wanted to do was bake you a nice meal in thanks for welcoming them into your home — despite all the trouble it was going to cause.

🌟 you let julie try on all your clothes and have a fashion show with everyone. cleaning up after her was a haste but they offered to help clean up which was weirdly sweet.

🌟 wally had figured out how to use the tv but not entirely. you walked in on him watching static to which you asked “how long have you been staring at that?”. his response was “my eyes feel funny.”

🌟 sally has taken a liking to the random ornaments scattered around your house. she will randomly pick one up and come running to you to ask what it is. of course you’ll explain anything to her but it was strange that she didn’t know what a sea shell was…

🌟 eddie has started doing arts and crafts in bulk. frank said that he does it when he’s stressed. you’re not entirely sure how to relax him because it’s not like you can take a puppet to a spa or treat them to a nice meal-

🌟 barnaby has been following you around with perfectly timed jokes and sound effects. it’s starting to get on your nerves (especially when you’re trying to nap) but your hope that they’d soon return to whatever world they come from makes you tolerate it.

🌟 howdy hasn’t found something in your home he enjoys yet. he spends most of his time helping you with housework. his multiple arms and tall stature help when it comes to cleaning and reaching the top shelve. if you could choose any of them to stay it would definitely be him because he’s so kind and helpful — maybe you’d keep poppy around too because her meals are like heaven on a plate.

[impossiblescissorspeachpaper]

Little White Lie

Happy 1st of December!! It’s officially socially acceptable to start celebrating Christmas, never mind that I’ve had all my decorations up since mid-Nov.

Enjoy a fluffy little Elriel + kids fic to celebrate the start of the festive season! 🥂☃️💙❄️🎄

Elriel. Fluff. 1k words. Modern AU.

Azriel wrestled with the organised containers Elain stored all the Christmas decorations in, trying to avoid the cobwebs in the garage. He’d already pulled out nine large, labelled containers, but she had insisted he bring all twelve of them up to the house so she could settle on the colour scheme for this year.

Yanking out yet another box, dust fell from the top of it, settling in his hair and onto his eyelashes, causing him to shake his head like a dog, holding back the impulse to sneeze.

“Dad, mama said not to forget the box with the lights in it!” His six-year-old son was beyond excited, helping him lug boxes up to the house as Azriel pulled them all out of their various hiding places.

Pulling the final two out of the high shelving units, he handed the lightest of them to Benedict and grabbed the other three, running a hand through his dusty hair once more, the feeling of something crawling down his neck now making the hairs at his nape stand on end.

“Yep, got ‘em all kiddo. Let’s go.”

Entering the house through the back sliding door, Elain and Rue looked up from the cookies they were decorating, his daughter sitting on the wide kitchen island, her legs tucked beneath her as she helped her mum pipe icing onto the star and tree shaped biscuits.

Her hazel eyes snapped up as she heard her father walk into the house, a squeal peeling from her little chest as she all but leaped onto his back as he passed by the kitchen holding the last of the Christmas boxes.

Elain just laughed, used to Rue’s spirited nature, not even blinking when her daughter threw herself off the bench, trusting Azriel would catch her every time.

“I LOVE Christmas daddy!” she exclaimed excitedly.

Rue had latched herself onto her father’s back, her strong little arms wrapped securely around his neck. Her sticky fingers smeared green icing onto the skin below his jaw as she dangled down his back like a baby koala clutching onto its mother.

Chuckling at his mischievous daughter, Azriel crouched, dropping the boxes he still held whilst allowing Rue’s socked feet to touch the floor, the four-year-old bounding off to open boxes as soon as he’d let her down.

Elain was just placing the final touches on a star shaped cookie when she strolled over to Azriel, the shortbread treat held between her slender fingers.

“All twelve containers?” she asked, a content smile lighting up her face as she brought the cookie up to her husband’s lips.

“All twelve containers,” he confirmed, before craning his neck and taking almost the entire biscuit into his mouth. He chewed, moaning at the taste as his eyes bore into his wife’s, his hazel irises dilating as she looked back up at him, her teeth sinking deliciously into her full bottom lip.

Elain licked the remaining frosting off her own fingers, the heat from his gaze reflected back in her own eyes. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his in a sweet, chaste kiss, tasting the sugar from the treats she’s baked on each other.

Behind them, they could hear boxes being ripped open as their children excitedly pulled out all manner of ornaments and decorations, when Rue gasped.

Breaking their kiss, Azriel and Elain swivelled toward the sound of their daughter’s soft exclamation. Held in her little hands was a large mass of red, velvet cloth with white faux fur lining the cuffs and waist band.

“Daddy!” Rue squealed. “Why are Santa’s pants here?”

His daughter had found the Santa costume the family used on Christmas Eve when they all got together. Cassian was usually tasked with sneaking off after dinner to dress up and come in with a sack full of presents.

Rue looked scandalised; her hazel eyes blown wide with astonishment. Even Benedict looked on quietly, his warm brown eyes flicking questioningly from his mother, then his father, then back to the bright red pants.

Azriel scrambled, wracking his brain for an excuse. The last thing he ever wanted to do was ruin his children’s innocent sense of magic. Benedict and Rue deserved a sweet, wonderful life. So did Elain. Heaven knows he had never been granted the same luxury, and he always made a conscious effort to do everything in his power to be the father his own had never been for him. His entire life revolved around Elain and their children’s happiness. Besides, he loved that they both believed in Santa, and he wasn’t ready for their little dreams to be crushed.

“Umm, well Rue,” Azriel stammered, running a nervous hand through his hair as he bought himself time to make up an excuse. “We have Santa’s pants because… mama does his dry cleaning.”

He took a stab in the dark, holding his breath for their reaction.

Luckily, his kids took the bait, their faces transforming from looks of concern and confusion to impressed admiration.

“Really? Wow,” Rue breathed, her eyes going wide with wonder.

Benedict looked at his mother with the same reverence as Rue did, his gentle constitution leaving him in awe of Elain at the slightest thing.

“Cool!”

Elain just chuckled, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth as she shot a look at Azriel to say Santa’s dry cleaning?! That’s the best you could come up with?

Azriel just shrugged, relieved he had managed to say something to save their innocence for a little while longer.

Elain, squeezing Azriel’s bicep in understanding, added, “Oh absolutely, Santa has been trusting me with his laundry for years!”

She made sure the serious look on her face left no room for further questioning from her children’s curious minds.

“Wow…” Rue repeated, now looking at the pants in her hands with wide eyes, holding them up as far as her little arms could stretch them. “Santa’s pants…”

“I can’t wait to tell Nyx!” Benedict breathed, his brown eyes alight with wonder.

Stifling a chuckle behind her hand, Elain turned back to the kitchen to finish off decorating the cookies. Azriel shot her a self-satisfied smirk, his raven hair falling into his eyes before he turned to the box of Christmas lights to get started on the decorations.

*******

tagging: @offtorivendell​ @fawnandshadows​ @the-laughing-bubble​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @pagemasters​ @tswaney17​ @sakurakittypeach​ @thefangirlofhp​ @wingedblooms​ @alwayssara​ @ultadverb​

[theother-victoria]

KISS ME THRU THE PHONE

SYNOPSIS: Albedo always finds a way to say “I love you” even if he’s not there physically

TAGS: nothing but tooth-rotting fluff, modern au, gn reader

A/N: where are my winter storm buddies at 🙋‍♀️ this one goes out to you

We didn’t get a lot of snow we just got a bunch of freezing cold wind lmao

This was written as part of the Yae Publishing House’s Ice and Snow writing event!

“So… your flight got canceled and now you’re snowed in?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

You hear Albedo sigh on the other end of the phone. A few weeks ago, he had departed for Liyue to meet with an author he was working with. He left with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to return home before Christmas Eve but now…

“The snowstorm did unfortunately hit Liyue. They predicted it wouldn’t, but turns out that was wrong. I should be home within the next three or so days.”

It’s your turn to sigh now. The fireplace was lit, the tree was decorated with ornaments and lights, and you even had cookies baking in the oven. Yet it didn’t feel complete with Albedo missing and knowing that he would be gone for such an important season left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“I know, it’s just that I… miss you.”

“I miss you too, (Y/N). There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to be back at home spending the holidays with you and Klee right now.”

You hear the sound of footsteps from upstairs and crane your neck upwards to see Klee standing at the top of the stairs, pillow and Dodoco plushie in hand. She rubs her eyes sleepily and yawns.

“Klee, I thought you were asleep?”

“I was, but I thought I heard you talking to big brother Albedo. Klee wants to speak to him too!”

You sigh and beckon her over. She immediately scurries down the stairs and practically flies towards the couch, landing on the cushions with a loud “oof” before clambering into your lap.

“Big brother Albedo! It’s Klee! I miss you so, so, so, so much! When are you going to come home?”

He laughs. “Hello, Klee. I miss you too. I already told (Y/N) that I’ll be back home within the next three days, so you won’t have to wait much longer. But how are the holidays going for you?”

“It was so much fun! Yesterday, Diona came over and we had a snowball fight. Then, we gave each other presents and had a sleepover!”

“That sounds like a lot of fun, Klee.”

“It was. I can’t wait to see what Diona gave me!”

She pauses for a moment, furrowing her brows and staring up at the ceiling like she was deep in thought.

“Big brother Albedo, I wanna see you!”

You hear a barely suppressed chuckle in his voice. “I can arrange for that.”

Albedo abruptly ends the call, much to your surprise, and a few seconds later, your phone buzzes with an incoming video call. Klee giddily makes grabby hands at your phone and you hand it to her. She hits accept and her face instantly lights up upon seeing him.

You quietly slide off the couch and into the kitchen to check on the cookies. As Klee gushes about her day to Albedo, you pull out the frosting sitting in the fridge you had prepared earlier and get to work decorating the cookies. Klee must have smelled them because soon after, she comes waddling into the kitchen with an expectant look in her eyes.

“Look, big brother. (Y/N) made cookies! Can I have one? Pretty please?”

You glance at the clock. 9:45 pm. It was already way past Klee’s bedtime, but since it was the holidays, you’ll make an exception.

“Just this once. But promise me you’ll go to bed after this, ok? The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you’ll be able to open your presents.”

She quickly finishes it and as promised, heads upstairs to bed after you give her a goodnight kiss on the forehead. With your phone back and Klee asleep, you finally have the chance to talk to Albedo. His gaze instantly softens and you’re unable to stop yourself from smiling like a lovesick fool at the sight. His bangs are pushed back with a headband and he has a sheet mask on his face. You have to stifle a laugh at the sight of it.

“Hello, dearest. I hope taking care of Klee hasn’t been too exhausting.”

You shake your head. “No, it hasn’t. She’s just excited because it’s Christmas, but she’s been well-behaved.”

Getting up, you head towards the storage room underneath the stairs and pull out Klee’s presents hiding in the back. He must have seen them because he raises an eyebrow.

“Are those Klee’s presents? What did you get her?”

“Just a new Dodoco plushie and some colored pencils she’s been eyeing for a while now,” you reply as you set them down under the tree.

“Well then, where’s my present?”

You look at him strangely. He has a slight smirk on his face that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. Normally, he’s not this forward, but maybe the distance was getting to him?

You roll your eyes and blow him a kiss.

“Here’s your present for now. Hurry up and come home so I can give you the real one.”

Albedo laughs at the action, a sweet and pure sound that has your heart involuntarily fluttering.

“Thank you, my love. I promise I’ll be back home as soon as possible.”

You yawn and Albedo takes notice of it.

“It must be getting late over there. I’ll let you go to sleep now-”

“Can you stay with me for a little bit longer?”

He pauses at your question, then smiles.

“Of course. Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”

You settle back down on the couch and stare out the window, where the first snow is beginning to fall, promising a white Christmas.

Klee will surely be excited to wake up to it, you think.

“Anything really. How are the holidays celebrated in Liyue?”

He hums. “It’s not as significant of a holiday over here, but they still celebrate it to an extent. I passed by the harbor the other day at night and it was aglow with festive lights and decorations. It was quite the sight and I hope to bring you there next year to witness it for yourself.”

“Mm. I’d love to see it for myself too.”

The clock ticks away in the back and the roaring fire is slowly reduced to mere embers. The snow piles up outside until all you can see is a blanket of pristine white coating everything within sight.

And despite being oceans away, you feel as if Albedo is right next to you and with that, you don’t feel quite as lonely anymore.

“Hey, Albedo?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“And I love you too, dearest. Go to sleep now and when you wake, I’ll be back home. Don’t miss me too much now, ok?

“Goodnight, (Y/N), and may you be blessed with the sweetest of dreams tonight.”

[nevermindtheweights]

Character Setting for Bremmy the Bwemmer~

Bremerton's home is actually one of the officer homes, given her actual military rank..

The American keeps it simple for the most part. Unlike others, who come from the US to the aid the Japanese Naval Shipgirls, she kept most of the house style in that more modern Japanese style. Despite the gyaru's love of colour, the house is quite neutral with whites and creams to keep the place light. Following most Japanese Interior designs, it is quite open with greenery adding life to the rooms. She has hardwood floors so cream carpeted rugs are often used in the living and dining space. The couches are quite standard and are suited for a girl of her height (and size when it comes to it). It is a home designed to handle larger sized guests too.

There are some personal items around to give some more welcoming feeling such as photographs and artwork the fashionable girl likes, primarily modern pop art which adds a blast of colour to the other calming spaces. Odd yet not out of place. The walls are more or less busy with Bremerton interests and a large TV dominates the living room. While clean, there is lived-in mess around. Magazines and books on side tables and the coffee table, a bowl of fruit on the side in the kitchen, notepads and pens, little framed pictures and ornaments.

Bremerton's bedroom is where most of the colour is. The room is full of character and by that, it is quite cluttered. A contrast from the rest of the home but the gyaru has plenty of clothing that she keeps around. An expansive bed with bedding often messy drawn across. Pillows, cuddly toys and plushies linger with fashionable modern pop-art adding a degree of blazing character to where she sleeps.