#not everyone has a mom worth celebrating

[the-bi-space-ace]

For those of us who have complicated emotions around today’s holiday: Today can just be another Sunday. Go for a walk, spend time with friends, read a book, get yourself a treat. But whatever you do please just treat yourself gently.

[brunchable]

Under The Mistletoe | B. B.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x F! Reader Themes: Fake relationship, forced proximity, enemies-to-lovers(ish), rom-com Summary: When your meddling family won’t stop asking about you love life, you roped your arch-nemesis Bucky into pretending to be your boyfriend for Christmas dinner at your parents house. It was pay back for the massive favor he owes you, so he had no choice but to agree. A/N : This oneshot is part of my 4K Follower christmas themed celebration. I hope you enjoy this first one! Thank you so much for reading my stories! Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The smell of pine and cinnamon wafts through the air as you adjust the cuffs of your sweater, glaring at the man currently making himself at home in your parents’ living room. James Buchanan Barnes—your nemesis, your tormentor, the human equivalent of a lump of coal—lounges on the couch like he’s been a part of your family for years. Your mom already adores him.

“James, more eggnog?” she chirps, holding out a festive mug.

“Of course,” Bucky replies with a smile so charming, you almost believe it’s real. Almost.

You, on the other hand, are clinging to your sanity by the thinnest strand of tinsel. He’s only here because he owes you. Big time. And because your family won’t stop asking when you’ll finally settle down and find someone “worth bringing home for Christmas.”

When you roped Bucky into this charade, you expected the bare minimum. A few fake smiles. Maybe holding your hand once or twice. What you did not expect was him waltzing in here, winning over your family, and actually knowing things about you.

“Y/N hates marshmallows in her hot chocolate,” Bucky says smoothly, stopping your dad mid-scoop. “She’s all about the whipped cream.”

You freeze in the doorway, clutching a tray of cookies like a lifeline. How does he know that? You never even told him that. Your dad raises an eyebrow at you, impressed, while you try to recover from the shock.

“Right,” you stammer, narrowing your eyes at Bucky. “Because you’re so attentive.”

He smirks, the twinkle in his eye more annoying than any Christmas light you’ve ever seen. “It’s a gift.”

× × × ×

The cozy living room, aglow with soft Christmas lights, feels oppressively warm. Not because of the crackling fire or the wool socks your mom forced everyone to wear, but because Bucky’s presence next to you is positively suffocating. His thigh, firm and annoyingly warm, is pressed against yours, and every time he shifts, your nerves jolt like a live wire.

“You’re twitching again,” Bucky murmurs under his breath, leaning closer so his lips almost brush your ear. “Relax. If you keep acting like this, your mom’s going to think I broke your heart or something.”

“Maybe I should tell her you’re insufferable, so she kicks you out,” you snap, voice low enough not to disturb the room. Your family is fully engrossed in Elf, but you swear Bucky’s gaze burns hotter than the fire.

“Go ahead,” he whispers back, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m her favorite now, you know.”

You resist the urge to stab him with the candy cane you’ve been holding for the last ten minutes. Instead, you muster your sweetest fake smile and clap your hands. “Well, Mom, it’s getting late, and I think Bucky has a long drive ahead of him—”

Your mom, standing with a tray of cookies like some sort of Christmas matriarch, freezes mid-step. 

“What?” she exclaims, her eyes wide and full of betrayal. “You’re not staying, Bucky? But I prepared Y/N’s room for the two of you!”

The room goes dead silent.

Bucky’s head swivels toward you so fast, you hear a faint crack. 

“She didn’t tell me about that,” he says, his voice strangled with barely concealed panic. He offers you a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “Didn’t know we’d be, uh, bunking together.”

You grit your teeth, your face burning hotter than the fireplace. “That’s because I didn’t know,” you hiss, shooting a glare at your mom that could melt Frosty the Snowman.

“How could you make your boyfriend drive all the way out here just to send him back into the snow?” your mom demands, hands on her hips like a Christmas tyrant. “Absolutely not. He’s staying. Come on, Bucky, I’ll show you two to your room.”

“Our room?” you squeak, but your mom is already bustling out of the room, and Bucky, to your utter horror, is rising from the couch to follow her.

He pauses just long enough to lean down and mutter, “This just got a whole lot more interesting, sweetheart.” The grin he flashes is wolfish, and you resist the urge to throttle him with your flannel sleeve.

The room is straight out of a Hallmark Christmas special. The fireplace is lit, the bed is perfectly made with a festive quilt and decorative pillows, and the faint smell of pine fills the air. There’s even mistletoe hanging in the corner, mocking you.

Bucky steps in, glancing around, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and terror. 

“Wow,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Cozy.”

Your mom claps her hands together, beaming. “I knew you two would love it. Oh, and don’t worry, honey, I put the extra pillows in the closet in case you need them.” She winks at you, winks, before spinning on her heel and leaving you to your doom.

The moment the door clicks shut, you whirl on Bucky. “Don’t say a word.”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrays him. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, doll,” he drawls, wandering over to the bed and plopping down on it like he owns the place. He stretches out, arms behind his head, and sighs dramatically. “Comfy. We’re gonna have a great night.”

You stare at him, horrified. “You’re sleeping on the floor.”

He raises an eyebrow, patting the quilt beside him. “I don’t think your mom would approve.”

You throw a decorative pillow at his face, which he catches with infuriating ease. “This is all your fault.”

“My fault? You’re the one who dragged me here.”

“You owed me!”

“And I’m paying you back,” he says with a grin, tossing the pillow back at you. “With interest, apparently.”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

Bucky leans forward, his grin softening just a touch. “Relax, Y/N. It’s just one night. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Somehow, that promise doesn’t reassure you in the slightest. You glare at him one last time before grabbing a blanket from the closet and stomping to the couch by the fireplace.

“Where are you going?” he calls after you.

“To sleep.”

“Suit yourself.” 

You don’t have to look to know he’s smirking again. You grab another pillow and resist the urge to launch it at his stupidly handsome face.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

× × × ×

The fire had long since died, leaving the room shrouded in a cold that no amount of decorative holiday cheer could banish. You’d been curled up on the couch under a threadbare blanket that smelled faintly of cinnamon and humiliation for hours, but now you were shivering so hard you were worried your teeth might chatter loud enough to wake the whole house.

You shot a death glare at Bucky, sprawled out on the bed like a smug prince in his flannel pajamas, the quilt pulled up to his chin. The nerve of him actually letting you sleep on the couch while he hogged the bed like he didn’t owe you his very existence—or at least this ridiculous favor.

Finally, when your toes felt like icicles and you were seriously debating setting your pride on fire just to warm up, you caved. You untangled yourself from the blanket, muttering curses under your breath, and tiptoed toward the bed.

It would have been stealthy. It would have been smooth. Except your foot made direct, agonizing contact with the solid oak footboard.

Pain exploded through your toe, and you bit back a screech so feral you probably looked like a Christmas banshee. Instead, you crumpled to the floor, clutching your foot and mouthing a stream of silent profanities that would make Santa's naughty list blush.

“Mother F—!” you hissed at yourself, wincing as you hobbled the rest of the way to the bed. You crawled onto the empty side like some kind of injured burglar, trying to be as silent as possible. Your toe throbbed in time with your heartbeat, but you focused on one thing: the warm cocoon of blankets just inches away.

Finally, you slid under the covers, sighing as the heat from the quilt enveloped you. Bliss. Sweet, sweet bliss. Maybe Bucky wouldn’t even notice—

“Could’ve just asked, you know.”

You nearly launched yourself out of the bed in shock, your heart leaping into your throat. “What the—!” you whisper-screeched, clutching the quilt to your chest.

Bucky’s voice, low and laced with amusement, drifted through the darkness. “I was awake the whole time.”

“You—!” Words failed you as your face burned with embarrassment. “Then why didn’t you say anything?!”

“I was curious how far you’d go before giving up.” You could hear the grin in his voice.

“You’re the worst.”

“Debatable. I didn’t laugh when you stubbed your toe.”

“You heard that?!”

“Sweetheart, I think the neighbours heard that.” His shoulders shook with silent laughter as you stared at him, outraged.

“I hate you,” you snapped, yanking the quilt tighter around you and turning your back on him.

But before you could stew in your annoyance, you felt a hand reach over and pull part of the blanket from you, wrapping it snugly around your side. You froze as his voice softened, amusement fading.

“Relax. I don’t bite. Unless you’re still mad about the couch.”

“I am.”

“Noted.” He shifted, and his voice dropped lower, warmer. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You turned over, your curiosity finally getting the better of you. Facing Bucky’s silhouette in the faint moonlight streaming through the window, you squinted at him. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

He exhaled softly, like he’d been waiting for you to ask. Without a word, he reached over and flicked on the small lamp on his side of the bed, filling the room with a soft golden glow. The shadows on his face softened, and he turned to face you fully, propping his head up on his hand.

“I’m not used to a soft, warm, comfortable bed,” he said simply, his voice low and quiet.

That wasn’t the answer you expected. “Why not?” you asked, furrowing your brow.

Bucky’s gaze flickered to the blanket between you before settling back on your face. “I usually sleep on the floor.”

Your jaw dropped. “The floor? Why?”

He shrugged like it was no big deal, like it didn’t hurt to admit. “I have a bed,” he said casually, “but… being uncomfortable has kind of become my normal.”

Your heart sank at his admission. The way he said it—so matter-of-factly, like he didn’t even consider it strange—made something in your chest tighten. You swallowed hard, trying to shove down the wave of sympathy threatening to show on your face.

“Oh,” you said, clearing your throat, but it came out too soft, too affected. You forced yourself to straighten up, busying your hands by tucking the quilt tighter around you. “Well, uh… this bed uncomfortably soft, so, lucky you?”

You wanted to kick yourself for how awkward that sounded. But he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he just chuckled, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. 

“Yeah, lucky me.”

The room fell into silence, save for the soft crackle of the dying embers in the fireplace. You tried to avoid his gaze, but something in the room caught your eye, and you froze.

Dangling right above the headboard, in plain sight, was a sprig of mistletoe. The ribbon holding it swayed slightly, mocking you with its festive cheer.

Your brain scrambled. How had you missed that earlier? Why on earth was it there? Did mom hang it on purpose? Of course she did! That woman was a menace.

You could feel Bucky’s gaze lingering on you, and your heart thumped louder with each passing second. You knew it was only a matter of time before he noticed the stupid sprig of mistletoe dangling above the headboard, so you needed to distract him.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, his brow quirking up in suspicion as he started to turn his head.

“Nothing!” you yelped, throwing the quilt over your face in a panic. “Nothing! Absolutely nothing. Goodnight!”

For a second, there was silence. Then, the soft creak of the bed as Bucky shifted, his voice low and amused. “Wait a second…”

You could practically hear the smirk spreading across his face as realization dawned.

“Oh, would you look at that.”

Your stomach flipped as you slowly peeked out from under the quilt. Sure enough, Bucky was staring right at the mistletoe, his lips curving into the most maddeningly smug grin you’d ever seen.

“Mistletoe,” he said, his tone practically dripping with glee. “Right above our heads. What are the odds, huh?”

“Coincidence,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket back over your face.

He chuckled, his voice warm and teasing. “You know what they say about mistletoe, don’t you?”

“Don’t,” you groaned, your voice muffled by the quilt.

“Oh, but I think I have to,” he replied, and you could hear the grin in his voice. “It’s tradition, after all.”

You peeked out again, glaring at him. “It’s not tradition if we just pretend it doesn’t exist.”

He tilted his head, mock-pondering. “Hmm. Ignoring it feels a little… Grinch-like, don’t you think? And you wouldn’t want to ruin Christmas, would you?”

“I swear to God, Bucky—”

Before you could finish, he leaned in, his face closer than you expected, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “What? Afraid you might enjoy it?”

You scoffed, your heart racing. “As if.”

You could practically feel your heart trying to escape your chest as Bucky inched closer, the infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was something else there too—something warmer, more intent.

“Oh, so it wouldn’t bother you at all?” he teased, his smirk widening. “Not even a little kiss?”

“Not in a million years,” you shot back, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, his grin softening, “you’re shaking. Maybe it would bother you.”

“Bucky—”

But you never got to finish. And just then, he leaned forward and kissed your lips. Warm, masculine lips were pressed to yours. It wasn’t rushed or teasing—it was warm, gentle, and infuriatingly confident. Like he’d been waiting for this. Like he wasn’t the least bit surprised by how perfectly your lips fit together.

Your initial plan was to push him away—firmly, dramatically, maybe even with a good shove to his ridiculously broad chest—but your brain short-circuited the moment his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. Instead, you melted into him, your traitorous body leaning closer without permission.

It was supposed to be a simple, obligatory mistletoe kiss. But the way he kissed you made the world tilt, his lips moving with a deliberate tenderness that made your stomach somersault. He felt you quiver beneath his touch, but he wanted to comfort you—his tongue delved your mouth slowly and you parted your lips willingly and welcomed him. This was enough encouragement for Bucky; he sucked your tongue sensually, and you nibbled his lower lip.

Every kiss he gave felt like a slow unravelling and intense, as if he was savouring the act as much as the reaction it drew from you. Bucky’s fingers traced along your jaw, tilting your face toward him with a tender authority that left no room for hesitation. His thumb brushed over your cheek in a soothing rhythm, contrasting with the heat and urgency of his lips. When he pulled back, his eyes locked with yours—dark with desire, soft with something unspoken—before he leaned in again, claiming your mouth once more.

You let him in, your lips parting as his tongue slipped past, tangling with yours again in an unhurried, sensuous dance that sent shivers down your spine. He tilted his head, exploring every curve of your mouth, his kisses leaving a heated trail that set your skin ablaze. Your lips found their way to his jawline, pressing soft kisses along his stubble, the faint roughness amplifying the sensitivity of your own. When you returned to his lips, the hunger in his kiss mirrored your own as you teased his tongue with yours, your movements bold and enticing.

The shift in your energy didn’t go unnoticed. You felt him tense, his restraint hanging by a thread as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing into yours. His hands gripped your waist, anchoring you in place as his kisses became hungrier, pulling quiet moans and ragged breaths from you. The sound of your pleasure seemed to fuel him, his control slipping further as he pressed closer, his arousal hard and insistent against your thigh, a tangible reminder of the tension thrumming between you. Every kiss, every touch, felt like a declaration, his desire spilling over and igniting something equally fierce in you.

When he pulled back it almost felt like he had to force himself to but he stayed close, his forehead almost brushing yours. His eyes searched your face, his smirk gone, replaced by something quieter, something more serious.

“Well,” he said softly, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it, “guess the mistletoe’s not so bad after all.”

You blinked, your breath hitching. “Have I told you I hate you?”

“And yet, here we are,” he teased, though his smirk was softer now, his thumb still brushing your cheek like he hadn’t realized he was still holding you.

You pushed his hand away—gently, because you were not going to think about how good it felt—and flopped back against the pillows, groaning into the quilt. 

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Of course not,” he said with a chuckle, settling back onto his side of the bed. “Just a harmless little kiss. Totally meaningless.”

You peeked out from under the quilt to glare at him, but the way he was looking at you—soft, amused, and maybe a little too smug—made your pulse spike all over again.

“Goodnight, Barnes,” you muttered, burrowing back into the covers, determined to ignore the way your lips still tingled.

“Goodnight, doll,” he replied, his voice warm with amusement—and something else you didn’t want to think about.

The room fell quiet again, save for the faint crackle of the dying fire. But as you lay there, trying and failing to stop replaying the kiss in your head, you realized one thing: mistletoe was officially the most dangerous Christmas decoration of all time.

tags: @lomlbuckybarnes @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss @mostlymarvelgirl

@missvelvetsstuff @unaxv @carnal-vogue @bmyva1entine @wheredidiputmyfish

@thereoncewasagirlnamedjane @wanda-widow @filmologetica @awaywithtime @Thealyrs

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @winchestert101 @strawberrybisou @unaxv @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fynnwolff @veronicapaula

[shadowmaat]

Most relevant bit:

The puppy was part of a litter of 12 at a July 20 event hosted by the Moms and Mutts Colorado Rescue for Pregnant and Nursing Dogs, also known as MAMCO. The event took place at the rescue's shelter at 2721 W. Oxford Ave. in Sheriden. The address is also sometimes listed in Englewood. The puppy, along with its littermates, came from Texas and was unvaccinated for rabies at the time of exposure. At the event, the puppy's litter was known as the "July Shepherd Mix" litter and may also have been referred to as the "Celebrity Kids" litter.

Rabies is bad, kids. Like, 100% fatal, bad. The pup had to be euthanized for testing and it's likely all its littermates will be, too. The article said they're trying to track down 17 people known to be in close contact with the infected pup, but anyone who was at the event needs to be wary. Rabies can be passed via saliva, so if the puppy licked you or your dog, there's a danger.

People who attended the event should call the Colorado Department of Public Health & Environment for screening.

They can call the agency's hotline at 303-692-2700 during business hours or 303-692-9395 after hours or on weekends or holidays. Or they can email cdphe_zoonoses@state.co.us CDPHE staff will determine whether attendees need post-exposure treatment.

It's also worth noting that post-exposure treatment only works before symptoms show up. Once you or your pet start displaying symptoms, it's too late. Again: rabies is 100% fatal.

The article doesn't mention how the pup contracted rabies in the first place and it doesn't mention how old the pup was, but a bit of quick research shows that the vax schedule for rabies isn't until 14 weeks, so if the puppy was younger than that (and this was a "nursing dogs" event) it's possible it was just too young to have been vaxxed. There may be more nuance to it than that and there's a lot of details that aren't mentioned, but I don't think this is a case of "ugh, Texas" or anything like that. Shelters, at least, take health & safety seriously. Any employee spouting off about animals not needing vaccines is going to get kicked to the curb.

I really hope that the CDPHE has a system in place to cover the cost of the post-exposure treatment since it can cost anywhere from $1200 to $6500 without insurance and that's going to be impossible for a lot of people, even if the alternative is a slow and painful death.

What a mess. I hope everyone (and their animals) comes through this safe and healthy.

[lazycats-stuff]

Yo, Can u write about Mexican! Batbro (same age or a year older than Damian, like Damian he's a biological son of Bruce) who celebrates dia de muertos, he could make an altar of Thomas and Martha Wayne, he could explain his roots and culture to the batfamily

Sure thing. Damn, Bruce is really mister Worldwide.

Summary: (Y/N) is Mexican. Everyone is curious.

Warnings: nothing bad, talking about Mexican culture, which is really cool with the day of the dead honestly,

Bruce has been thinking about getting a vasectomy, since he has found out about (Y/N), his son who was born and is being raised in Mexico. Bruce slept with a model and hence, (Y/N) was born. His mother loved him, but she wanted (Y/N) to go to the USA, to get a safer life and better education.

Bruce, being ever so suspicious, decided to do a DNA test, just in case. You just never know and Bruce didn't want to be used for his money and a green card for the boy that wasn't his. And once a DNA test showed that Bruce was the father, he took it upon himself to get (Y/N) into the USA and to get him his citizenship.

And immigration is not fun to deal with, everyone knows that. After pulling some connections, (Y/N) managed to get to the USA on a visa for now at least. Bruce has started the process right away with an immigration lawyer, the best on he could find in Gotham city. And since last name Wayne opens up a lot of doors everywhere, Bruce has decided to use that to his advantage.

The boys were not shocked by the news of another biological son. Damian wasn't afraid or threatened and unlike the first time he came to the manor, he's established himself as a biological son. And (Y/N) is a year younger than Damian anyway, so Damian welcomed (Y/N), but of course, it would take time for everyone to adjust to the new addition to the family.

Once (Y/N) settled down in the manor, Bruce sat him down to talk about everything moving forward. Bruce told (Y/N) that he will never prohibit any aspect of his culture and that if there are holidays that are important to him, that they would celebrate it. Bruce didn't want (Y/N) to lose his culture. He wanted (Y/N) to be proud of his culture and seeing the beaming smile on (Y/N)'s face made it all worth it.

So, the two decided to make a list of holidays that are important to him and that they were going to celebrate. (Y/N) made sure to put Día de los Muertos, alongside  Cinco de Mayo and El Grito de Independencia. Which (Y/N) clarified for his brothers. Cinco de Mayo commemorates the bravery of Mexican soldiers who made the French army retreat. El Grito de Independencia is the actual independence day, where they got their independence from Spain.

For some reason, Americans think that Cinco de Mayo is their independence day, which (Y/N) doesn't understand why Americans would think so. Like why? Do they not like to research? (Y/N) couldn't understand it, but decided to let it go since maybe Cinco the Mayo is far more easier to remember for them... No, that doesn't make any sense in that.

Maybe he'll never know.

(Y/N) was doing just fine in school. Bruce noticed how hard working he was. And it wasn't like Bruce had to force him to, he was just doing it on his own. Bruce wondered why, since he was a good student before coming to the USA. (Y/N) just explained how his mother taught that hard work is something that will make him succeed in life. She told him her story of hard work and how she became successful.

And Bruce understood why. (Y/N)'s mom didn't have connections and a last name that could open doors and simply pave the way. Bruce understood that and agreed that his mom did good. You can't expect that last name open up doors for you. Because anything can crumble when you least expect it.

So Bruce encouraged (Y/N) to take breaks, since it's not good to study for a long time. (Y/N) nodded and understood that. He promised Bruce that he would try his best to take breaks and Bruce smiled, knowing that he can't force change over night.

Jason on the other hand, needed help. He couldn't understand Spanish for the life of him. And he asked (Y/N) for help. And (Y/N) was surprisingly a good teacher. Teaching him how to pronounce certain sounds and taught him more than the teacher did. Jason was thankful and (Y/N) had no problem giving him tips he needed to remember certain things.

Dick was more interested in his culture. What were certain traditions of Mexican culture? What were values there? What is something you shouldn't do there? What should you do there? Dick was always more interested in learning about other cultures.

That turned into a nice during dinner. (Y/N) explained his roots and culture to them, beating a few stereotypes along the way and everyone listen intently. (Y/N) also said that he would like to celebrate the Día de los Muertos, reminding them that it start from the eve of October 31st until November 2nd. Bruce nodded having no problem.

What did shock Bruce was that (Y/N) revealed that he made an altar of Martha and Thomas Wayne. Bruce didn't know about it, but wasn't mad. (Y/N) explained what it meant to have an altar. It would mean having pictures of the deceased, alongside some candles and a cross. (Y/N) also added their favorite flowers.

Bruce was touched by that. To have his parents honored and remembered like that was... Touching. And a bit better than the way they do it here in America...

" Can you show the altar to me? " Bruce asked and (Y/N) nodded.

" I will papa. " (Y/N) sipped his water and Bruce nodded. After dinner, (Y/N) would show Bruce the altar of Martha and Bruce Wayne. It was a simply altar, with pictures, probably provided by Alfred, favorite flowers, just like (Y/N) said. There was also a cross.

" And it's normally that simple? " Bruce asked, curiously.

" Well on the Day of the Dead, we make ofrendas, in English language that means offerings. We leave water in the pitcher so that the spirits can quench their thirst, paper banners that are traditional and they represent wind and then we have earth which is normally bread. Then you have candles that are often arranged to look like a cross, so that the spirits can find their way, " (Y/N) explained and Bruce nodded.

" Also, some altars have level. Most elaborate ones have have seven levels, but most have 3 levels. And we also have flowers in Mexico that grow a lot and have a strong smell that is said that spirits are attracted to it to visit their mortal loved ones, " (Y/N) added and Bruce was going to get those flowers for (Y/N), no matter what connections he had to pull.

Bruce nodded as he listened more. He really liked this holiday. It was nice and you can feel closer to your lost ones, rather than in America where you bury your loved ones and then simply visit their grave. Bruce never thought about the spirit of his dead loved ones would come.

But he liked the Mexican mindset on that matter.

" That's a nice way of thinking. That their spirits try to come and visit... " Bruce trailed off, smiling at the altar.

" Whatever you need for the altar, you'll get it. Whatever it is, I'll get it for you. "

(Y/N) nodded, knowing that Bruce would do that.

" Well, you can help with cleaning up the grave, since we take care of the graves to put some offerings there. Oh, you and the rest of the family need to learn a lot. " (Y/N) crossed his arms as he chuckled, Bruce chuckling alongside him.

[aayakashii]

🎄 MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄

How will you 🫵 spend your holidays with the boys?

These headcanons are mostly non-Christmas specific activities so everyone can feel included, no matter if you celebrate Christmas or not!!

Credits for the cozy prompts here!

Credits for the gifs here!

Frostheim

Jin

Drinking mulled wine.

It reminds him of when he snuck a sip from his mom's cup – feeling his cheeks warm and his mind get fuzzy. It was worth the light scolding he always received. As he grew up, however, the drink didn't taste as joyous as it used to. The spices held memories that were too painful to touch. Until you shared your cup with him during one Christmas night. And as he took a sip of your wine under your soft gaze, his cheeks warmed, and his mind grew fuzzy once again. But maybe it wasn't the drink's fault.

Tohma

Bundling up and taking a walk.

Granted, he already does it on the daily, but there's a special thing in the air when the year is ending; and the cold is seeping through the thickest of clothes; and you're right there, beside him, with your hand gripping his as if it was your lifeline. He knows he has a lot more resistance to the cold than you, and he enjoys it to the fullest. Seeing you bundled up, almost drowning inside his coats, waddling beside him like a penguin – he loves it. You're so cute. You're lucky he's a gentleman now.

Kaito

Baking cookies.

He thinks there's nothing more romantic than baking sweets with the person he's in love with. Wants to go through all of the cliches with you – putting flour on each other's noses and cheeks, sneaking a taste before it's done, making awfully shaped cookies just for the fun of it... it's the date of his dreams. It's only fair he'll try his best to make something you can't forget either.

Luca

Playing board games.

It reminds him of home. Of late nights with his parents and his brother, playfully arguing over plenty of colorful boards and weird pieces. However, playing games with his family after his brother disappeared became hard. It took him some time to realize he could enjoy it again with you. One night, under the dim lights and to the sound of your laughter and playful bickering, he felt his chest grow warm and his eyes soften as he looked at you, sat right across from him. He felt like he could keep trying again.

Vagastrom

Alan

Taking a long nap.

When was the last time Alan let his guard down? As he curls himself up on his couch, he feels like it must have happened in another lifetime. He focuses on his own breathing and his slow heartbeat – the soft, weighted blanket you had given him protects him from the cold outside, and he catches his own eyelids drooping. He feels comfortable. He feels safe. Before he drifts into a calm sleep, he makes a mental note to gather enough courage to ask you to make him company next time.

Leo

Lighting scented candles.

Self care wasn't exactly a foreign subject for Leo. He knew all there was to know about it. Yet, one thing still remained special whenever winter came around: the holiday themed candles. Gingerbread, nutmeg, peppermint... He pushed every themed candle into your arms whenever you two went shopping during this time of the year. It was his guilty pleasure; one of the few things he actually got excited about. You just have to give in to his whims (and pray you have no allergies).

Sho

Visiting the Christmas market.

Sho can handle crowds easily. Better than you, that's for sure. So you trust him when he invites you to stroll through the market, knowing he'll keep your hand in his as you two look at all the trinkets for sale and all the stall foods. You get each other small gifts – Sho gives you a miniature motorcycle keychain, and you give him a new bandana (which he puts it on his head immediately). As you two walk leisurely, hand in hand, through the busy street, he selfishly wishes he could just stay in this moment forever.

Jabberwock

Haru

Knitting a warm sweater.

He just finds more and more work for himself, even when he tries to relax; as if his body is fueled on responsibilities he creates for himself. If you point it out, Haru will only laugh and say he just wants everyone to have their own matching, ugly sweater. And he's steadfast on his goal. He wants his fingerprints visible when he's creating his very own family. You wearing an ugly sweater he made is just the first step.

Towa

Watching romantic movies.

Is it surprising to know that Towa is probably the biggest Hallmark fan? He could watch a thousand of the same "workaholic woman moves to small town and finds love" movies, and still wouldn't get tired of them. He talks of how he wants to recreate the "airport kiss" scenes, the "kiss under the rain" scenes, and the "kiss in front of an entire city" scenes. You tell him you can't offer him that much, but you can give him a kiss for every godawful movie he forced you to watch. And that's more than enough for him.

Ren

Listening to podcasts.

He doesn't like Christmas. Not surprising, I know. He just thrives in being a hater, and hating Christmas is essential to his persona. He will never admit, however, how much he loves the holiday atmosphere, and how perfect it is to tune into his favorite horror podcasts during the chilly, dark winter. You don't even point out that Halloween was two months ago anymore. You just cozy up next to him, and under fairylights and mistletoes, you get ready to listen to his favorite monster stories.

Sinostra

Taiga

Watching the snow fall.

He feels like the white snow awaken old, softer memories of a time long gone. He lays his head on your lap as you two hide in one of the school building's balconies, observing the snowflakes slowly coat the grass outside. You gently card your fingers through his tousled hair. Maybe he doesn't need to remember anything else if he can keep the memory of this moment in his mind, forever.

Romeo

Wearing warm pajamas.

They're fuzzy, soft to the touch. He can even feel his shoulders sagging as you straighten his pajamas and gently massage his shoulders. No need to yell, no need to fight, no need to worry about things falling apart and through his fingers. He shares his skincare with you in silence, and you accept it, in silence as well. The hum of his air conditioner is enough noise to fill the small, cozy little space you had created for him.

Ritsu

Doing a jigsaw puzzle.

There are no strict rules, no correct way of playing. Just a simple task with a simple goal. For once, he feels like he can be in silence and just properly enjoy your company while you two build some generic scenery together. Ritsu can just be, without the need to prove himself the smartest or the best in order to justify the space he occupies. For two to three hours, it's just you and him and nothing else.

Hotarubi

Subaru

Drinking hot chocolate.

The contrast between the japanese ambiance of Hotarubi and how "western" Christmas feels never fails to amaze Subaru. His favorite part of Christmas, however, isn't the decoration: it's the food. The sweets. He loves to warm his hands with a huge mug of hot chocolate, blushing every time you plop a few more marshmallows in his beverage. You spoil him, shoving every little sweet treat you find in his hands. He promises to eat them all, but only if you always join him in his indulgence.

Haku

Reading a good book.

It's not hard for Haku to have a good day, holiday or not. He just wants to laze around and have you tucked under his arm. That's all there is to it. He looks up from the new book you had just given him as a Christmas gift, only to see you handing him a mug of hot chocolate. He smiles, setting the book and the mug aside, and taps the seat right next to him, effectively trapping you under his arm. If he's being honest, he doesn't really care about christmas, but man, does he love christmas with you.

Zenji

Decorating for the season.

While Subaru usually worries about contrasting decorations, Zenji makes sure to place fairylights in every tatami room as soon as winter comes. He drags you around the dorm, his official helper, while he hangs ribbons and bells and mistletoes in every wall. When you ask him if he's hanging mistletoes on the doorways on purpose though, he looks at you with wide-eyed curiosity – he had no idea what you meant. Was there some tradition he wasn't aware of? Well, you're more than happy to teach him.

Obscuary

Ed

Lazing around

It's hard to break his habits. You do manage to shoo him out of his room after announcing Rui and you would deep clean it, so it could be presentable during the new year. Ed is pretty sure you're scarred for life, but, well, you insisted, right? But it's the holiday time, and his undead heart feels a little bit for you. He invites you to stay at his now pristine room for a while, dragging you into a random, obscure youtube rabbit hole. At least his sheets are all clean.

Rui

Going ice-skating.

Isn't it the perfect date? Being able to show off his glorious skating abilities, all while being your knight in shining armor, ready to catch you if you fall. He loves the angry red of your nose and cheeks and the awe in your face as you look at the way the sun reflects on the ice. Rui can barely keep himself from smooching your face until you were red from his attention, not the cold. He can't wait to take you to a cafe date next.

Lyca

Doing arts and crafts.

He wants to give a gift to Santa, and who are you to say no when Lyca asks you for help? In fact, he wants to give gifts to everyone he knows as well: the blonde gigolo, moth eaten casanova, Harurin, Romi and you, of course. His room becomes a warzone of arts and crafts supplies – there's glitter, glue and colored paper everywhere. But cleaning doesn't even come to his mind as he gives you a cheeky grin, glitter all over his face, as he show you his little craft project for Santa. He'll catch him this year, for sure.

Mortkranken

Yuri

Listening to cozy playlists.

Holiday spirit is the one Yuri blames when he allows you to control the aux cord. He's so generous, only demanding that every song must be instrumental. His ears perk up while he works on his papers and you put some etheral music to play. Plastic Platina, you call it. He huffs. What a silly name. He wasn't expecting, however, to inadvertently hum to the repeating rhythm of the song, his work flowing a little more fluidly than he expected. Maybe he can give things other than classic a try. But only sometimes.

Jiro

Lounging by the fireplace.

His body feels a little cold most of the time. It's a common ailment of his after he had woken up from his coma. During winter, therefore, he allows himself to be dragged by your hands as you demand he sits in front of the fireplace. You place a weighted blanket on his shoulders and tuck it snuggly under his feet. You sit beside him, watching the fire crackle and nursing a mug of coffee. He looks at you, body flush against him and he feels his cheeks grow a litte warmer, much to his surprise. Being cold isn't so bad, when he has your company.

[babyangelsky]

Best QL Parental Figures of 2024 💖✨

Welcome to Babyangelsky's 2024 Wrap Up! To commemorate my second year of watching QL dramas, and my first year of actually talking on my blog, I've compiled a series of lists to celebrate all the QL things I loved this year!

Please feel free to take my categories and make lists of your own and tag me in them if you do!

💜 All the lists can be found here! 💜

I decided I was the mother of several QL characters this year who happened to have shitty parents but it's always worth remembering that not all QL parents and parental figures are shitty. Some of them are decent and they deserve to be recognized.

Not my favorites, the best. Because if they're the best, they're already my favorites because the bar is in hell.

♡ Jack's Grandma (Jack & Joker)

What would Jack and Joke do without grandma? What would any of us do without grandma? She's the heart of their little family, full of love and forgiveness and protectiveness.

♡ Pop's Dad (Addicted Heroin)

What a genuinely lovely man. Always trying his best to care for his family and guide his son. They may not have had a lot of money but he still provided a loving environment for his child after he and his wife separated.

♡ Tiger's Mom (Addicted Heroin)

It was at this moment that this woman became my favorite character in this show. Your son's friends can't have their moms come to this school event for one reason for another? No problem, she's everyone's mom now.

♡ Ai's Parents (I Saw You in My Dream)

Ai may have been their only biological child, but they had four children. They loved and supported Yu, Yo, and Ing like they were their own without hesitation. Not to mention the fact that they accepted all their gay sons while being very Catholic.

♡ Natsume's Mom (Cosmetic Playlover)

It's so nice to see a BL mom be excited to discover her son has a boyfriend and immediately and enthusiastically accept said boyfriend into the family. We need more of that.

♡ Prince Anan (The Loyal Pin)

In all the ways that matter, Anan is Anin's father. She may be his little sister but she's his kid. He loves her above all else. He never hesitated to defend her. Truly the only man in that palace worth a damn.

♡ Almond's Mom (Knock Knock Boys)

Was she a little overprotective in the beginning? Absolutely. Did she come around when Almond finally took the time to talk to her and respect the boundaries that he set and help the boys help Peak? Also absolutely.

♡ Takara's Grandpa (Takara's Treasure)

This man took a very unloved little boy and made him feel loved and at peace and gave him a hobby that would eventually lead him to finding the love of his life. Incredible work from an amazing grandpa.

♡ Dee's Grandma (Wandee Goodday)

Khun Mon is the kind of grandma we all wish we had. That woman is so cool. She made Dee feel so loved and safe that he was comfortable talking to her about everything. She was his rock to lean on and I'm so glad he had her.

♡ Taichi's Grandpa (I Hear the Sunspot)

This man made his grandbaby a birthday meal and it was in that moment that I decided that he deserves the world. Doesn't matter if it was burnt; it was made with all the love and care Taichi never got from his parents and for that it was the best meal ever.

♡ Hill's Grandma (Fourever You)

Considering how awful Hill's grandpa is, it's especially important to me that his grandma is loving and wonderful and accepting of him. I need her to be okay again so he can have her presence in his life.

♡ Zen's Grandma (The Rebound)

Zen's grandma wasn't just an amazing parental figure to him, but also to Ryu and to Atom, neither of whom had parents who deserved the title. She gave them a home and a safe harbor and she deserves to be happy and comfortable always.

♡ Peak's Dad (Knock Knock Boys)

A lack of communication can seem like a lack of love and acceptance if its left to stretch too long but thankfully, that wasn't the case here. Peak's dad wanted him to be happy more than anything. He loved his child. He wanted a family for his child. And most importantly, he got the opportunity to really talk to Peak and make sure Peak knew all those things.

♡ Princess Alisa (The Loyal Pin)

Now here is a mother who understood the assignment. Was she confused and shocked to learn that her daughter was gay? Quite. But then she immediately turned around and decided to be loving and supportive of Anin's choices and that is what we like to see.

♡ Oyei and Cher (Wandee Goodday)

Listen, they're Yak's parents. Yak is their child. He's their pride and joy and they want to see him thrive and be happy. Yei stepped up when their father peaced out of their lives and became the father that Yak deserved and when Cher came into the picture, he did the exact same thing.

♡ Joe's Mom (My Stand-In)

It wasn't just Joe that got a second chance when he woke up in a new body, it was the second Joe's mom, too. It wasn't quite the second chance she thought it was, but she still got a version of her son back and got the chance to make amends. She recognized her mistakes, learned from them, and repaired a relationship she thought she'd lost.

♡ Kram's Parents (Two Worlds)

Parallel universe shenanigans aside, Kram always had wonderful parents who adored him. Dilok, his father, may be one of my favorite characters ever and it's a real shame that he didn't get to shine as much in the show as he did in the novel.

♡ Saint's Dad (High School Frenemy)

Saint's dad has got to be my favorite example of how a parent can be imperfect and be battling their own demons but still genuinely care for their child. The man had his problems but he never took them out on Saint. He made sure his child was fed and cared for and wanted a good future for him and really, that's exactly what a good parent is supposed to do.

♡ Shao Peng's Parents (See Your Love)

These two people adore their son. It's easy to fall into the belief that the only kind of good parent is a perfect parent but that's just not the case. Even the very best parents will make missteps, although only a fraction of them will take the time to reflect on those missteps and how they've affected their child. Not only did Shao Peng's parents do that, they apologized to him for it and made sure he knew they loved him exactly as he was.

♡ Style's Dad (The Heart Killers)

He knows exactly what kind of person his son is and lovingly roasts him for it. Emphasis on the lovingly. Style's dad not only accepts that his son is gay, Style feels comfortable enough to talk about his boy problems with him. That tells me all I need to know about the solid relationship they have as father and son.

♡ Diew's Grandpa (Monster Next Door)

Grandparents who are a safe haven for their grandchildren will always have my eternal love and respect. When Diew couldn't talk to his mom, he had his grandpa. He felt safe with his grandpa. He knew his grandpa would always be there to listen and support him and advise him in a way his mother couldn't. And not only was grandpa that steady rock for Diew, but also for Diew's mom, and he was ultimately the reason she could come around and recognize her mistakes.

[fancyfeathers]

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist

I’m thinking about Daughter!Darling and Mother!Darling spending the holidays with the Batfam and sure it is quite a nice time of year because all of the parties mean they are out of the manor more, but it also means they spend more time with their family. Dick wants to take her out places, the park for snowball fights and sledding and maybe when she is little take her to go see Santa. Jason just wants to relax, maybe wrap his little sister up in a blanket and watch a Christmas movie or read her a book before bed. Tim takes her out shopping to get her to buy presents for everyone with his money and take her out to lunch after or something. Damian didn’t really grow up celebrating the holidays so he wants to join in on his sister’s and stepmother’s traditions like making Christmas candy, which he doesn’t understand why they would want to make it themselves since it is hot and it could burn them and it could be much higher quality when someone else makes it. Stephanie, Cassandra, and even Barbara take her out shopping for a Christmas dress since that was a tradition she had with her mother and Stephanie and Cass are like her sisters now. Even Kate comes by to take her favorite girls out, and they are over at her apartment, Daughter!Darling snuggled between her mother and Kate while watching a movie. When Duke comes along he takes her ice skating since no one else will since they are scared she will fall and break something, but he’s there to protect her.

Then Bruce takes her to holiday parties and galas with him, her all dressed up in the dress Stephanie probably picked out for her, her mother on Bruce’s arm and in a dress that probably costs as much as a house. When she is little she is fawned over by all the elites, telling Bruce and her mother that their little girl looks just like a doll. When she gets older the parties get a little more bearable, because of her boyfriend sneaking her off during the parties, sneaking off outside and giving her his coat and hiding from her father and siblings.

Then there are the gifts, it’s always things they want her to like, doesn’t matter is she does or not, a set of paints, signing her up for ballet classes, taking her to get her ears pierced, a book of French poetry, you get the idea. There are only three people who get her gifts that show they actually know her, her mother, Selina Kyle, and her boyfriend even as crazy as he actually is.

Her mother remembers her own family traditions from before she married Bruce, and one of them are handing down family heirlooms and that tradition becomes very important to her daughter just like it did with her mother. So every year her mom gives her something that has been passed down through her family, an old necklace, earrings, bracelets, books, you get the idea.

Selina Kyle becomes her mother’s best friend and kind of an aunt to her daughter so on Christmas Eve when she comes to see them she discretely hands her a little box with a silver heart locket inside, she remembered overhearing that she always wanted one but didn’t want to ask her mom because her mom would get it in the blink of an eye and she already gives her the world. Just don’t ask where she got it because she may have broken her clear streak to make her happy.

Then her boyfriend, as rich as he is he knows it’s the little things that matter. So instead of some grand gesture for a present, he pulls her aside at a party and gives her a book, a scrapbook he made of photos of them with little paragraphs, letters to her and what he feels. Sometimes something handmade can be worth more than any diamond necklace. He’ll save a ring for when they get engaged along and a court of owls mask is for when they get married.

[vivwritescrappythings]

Unfair

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

an au about Joel attending a wedding simply inspired by Pedro's slutty little fit at the SAG awards.

part 2

tw: age gap (late 20s/late 40s), fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, alcohol, she/her pronouns, reader has hair long enough to twist around her finger, Joel is probably poorly written in this, and this whole thing is a little poorly written.

word count: 7.2k

MDNI

masterlist

–

Your mom was smiling as you zipped her into her gown, the chiffon and lace dress gorgeous on her as you fastened the eyelet closed at the top of the bodice. You could feel the lens of the photographer’s camera trained on you both, the woman having been with you the entire morning to document the process of the bridal party getting ready. 

The photographer was fluttering around the room, taking candid photos of you all making small talk and toasting mimosas. The posed photos had been earlier that morning, you all wearing your matching silk robes with your names screen-printed on the back. You didn’t know how much had been spent on the whole production–but it certainly wasn’t cheap. But, to see your mom glowing and her wide smile all morning, every penny must have been more than worth it.

Before you realized, you all wore dresses and bouquets of white flowers with magnificent greenery were being thrust in your hands. The wedding planner was ushering everyone out onto the stone walkway to the barn, women finally meeting men just outside the farmhouse turned wedding venue. The best man looked vaguely familiar to you as you placed your hand in the crook of his elbow to walk down the aisle, he must have been Shawn's eldest brother.

The officiant droned: he just repeated the same platitudes of what it means to love one another and be good spouses. You tried to stay focused, your eyes inevitably wandering. The ceremony space was picturesque: southern live oaks casting shadows in the late autumn sun as they married in front of the barn. It really couldn’t get more Texas than that, especially when you counted the number of cowboy hats in the crowd. 

You could feel someone staring at you for the better part of the ceremony, making you glance out of the corner of your eye as you tried to find the source. Every fiber of you wanted to turn and look in earnest, but you knew that you’d ruin the photos as soon as your body twisted and your happy, grinning face wasn’t facing the bride and groom on the best day of their lives. 

Your grip tightened around the bouquet in your hands as your skin crawled, your focus so jarred that you almost missed your cue to walk out. The cheers and clapping woke you from your reverie before the best man had to. Grasping him by the elbow, you walked back up the aisle between the celebrating wedding guests, the feeling of being watched now fading to the background.

—

When you finally made it to the renovated barn, you were starving and in desperate need of a drink. The photos had run long, the photographers getting you all in a variety of line ups and poses. It was almost time for the plated dinner to begin, guests settling at assigned tables after a cocktail hour and the live band playing quiet music in the corner of the half-inside half-outside space that would eventually serve as the dance floor.

The orange lighting from string lights along the ceiling was soft, mismatched Edison bulbs hanging along zigzagged wires from wooden rafters. It painted the guests and decor in gold tones, making everything look sepia like an old photo.

With your double shot vodka tonic in hand, you found your name written in gold calligraphy on the seating chart. Your mom and her new husband were sitting together at a small table at the front of the room, a faux-neon sign behind them that displayed his last name. Well, their last name now. 

You were at one of the front tables, the ivory table cloth nearly brushing the shiny wooden floor as you plucked your name card off your plate and sat down. There were only a few people you knew at the wedding, neighbors from the neighborhood you grew up in and a handful of your mother’s coworkers. But, they were seated elsewhere. 

Some of the seats on the opposite side of the sprawling white and green centerpiece were occupied with strangers in flamboyant cowboy hats and boots, an obvious sign they were from out of town. You smiled politely as you sat down, taking a long sip of your drink as you checked your phone for the moment of downtime. 

“This seat taken?” A deep, twangy voice made your gaze cut away from the screen and up to the right. You were immediately dumbstruck by how handsome the man was, his umber colored eyes reminding you of the sunlight hitting the tree trunks during the ceremony. A few of his dark brown curls were falling on his tanned forehead, the rest of his hair loosely pushed back. 

You floundered for a moment, lips parting and no words coming out of your mouth. Finally you caught up, blinking a few times. The place card in front of the ornate gold and white place setting next to yours was your saving grace. “Well, uh, if you’re Joel M., the seat is all yours,” you said, looking back up at him.

God, you hoped he was Joel.

He smiled, the lines on his face becoming a bit more defined as he extended a hand toward you. “Joel Miller, nice to meet you…” he trailed off, waiting for your assistance. 

You slipped your hand into his, his calloused palm engulfing yours as he shook it politely. You introduced yourself, neck craned back so you could look him in the eye. He released your hand and sat down, setting the glass he was holding next to yours on the table cloth. 

“So how do you know the couple?” Joel asked you, his gaze dragging over you. You tried not to squirm under the weight of it, your face feeling hot as you set your phone face-down on the table. The way he looked at you made you feel like a bug caught under a microscope.

“The bride is my mom,” you said, fiddling with the elegantly folded cloth napkins for a moment. You glanced at her briefly, watching her giggle at something Shawn had said. 

Joel nodded, a huff of a laugh following. “No shit, so you’re the stepdaughter?” he asked, an eyebrow raised as a smirk lifted the corner of his lip. One of your eyebrows lifted of its own volition, his reaction catching you off guard.

“Do I have a reputation?” A sip of your drink helped wet your dry tongue, your eyes trained on him over the rim of your glass. There was a spike of anxiety in your chest, the temporary fear that he’d heard something bad about you filling your mind. You held your glass in your hand as you crossed your legs at the ankle, waiting for his response.

Joel paused to take a drink, a hand scrubbing over his beard as he looked back at you. He shook his head, waving a hand in a way that was meant to be placating. “Shawn told me about you, said you just moved back to town a few months ago.” 

“Um, yeah, actually. Moved back from Denver,” you said, bashful that the subject of you even came up. You hadn’t realized that you were important enough in Shawn’s life to mention, especially to his friends. Of course, there wasn’t animosity between the two of you, just what you assumed was limited interest. Most men didn't bother to learn too much about their adult stepchildren.

You were both leaning forward as you spoke, the music and chatter of the other guests making the barn a little too loud to hear one another clearly at a distance. He was looking down at his drink, giving you an opportunity to study his profile. Joel was easily twenty years your senior, the dark beard on his jawline threaded through with patches of silver hair. 

“So—“ Joel started, getting cut off by the shuffle of the last people to their seats and an arm thrust between the two of you. The waiters serving the plated dinner made you sit upright in your chair, the soft fabric of your dress fluttering as you put some space between Joel and yourself. 

You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you took the first bite of your food, a sigh escaping you as your eyelashes batted against your cheeks. Conversation floated around your head, you caught polite questions about Joel’s construction business and half-assed replies.

For some reason your mother had put you at a table full of Shawn’s friends, maybe in an attempt to help you get to know him better.

“So you’re a contractor?” you asked after your hunger had been satiated. You’d gotten a refill on your drink from one of the waiters, nursing a fresh vodka tonic as you looked at Joel.

He chewed his steak methodically, nodding as he turned slightly to look at you. “Been building houses for years, my brother, Tommy, works with me,” Joel said after he swallowed, taking his cloth napkin off his wide thigh to wipe the corner of his mouth. 

“Do you like it?” you asked after a moment of contemplation, tilting your head to one side as you looked at him.

There was something about him that kept you smiling, your lips curved like a bow as you sipped your drink from the straw. You studied his features while you could, his aquiline nose and his full lower lip intriguing. Way too intriguing for someone who was your stepfather’s friend.

“Pays the bills, keeps the roof over me and Sarah’s heads.” Joel finished his plate, picking up his drink and leaning back in his seat. 

Sarah? Your eyes dropped to his left hand, not seeing a ring on any of the fingers. Not even a tan line. He noticed it, making your face burn as he chuckled. “Sarah? Your…”

“Daughter,” he cut in helpfully. Daughter, he had a daughter. You exhaled, relieved. But, did he have a wife? No ring, never mentioned her. He would’ve brought her up by now. She would've attended the wedding with him. You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath as you rationalized.  

Your mouth opened to ask another question when glasses were chimed and dinner was cleared away. Champagne flutes were passed around, and to your horror you realized it was time for your toast. You stood in a fluid motion, adjusting your gown and your hair before heading toward the microphone next to the table with the bride and groom.

–

You spent the rest of the night getting drunk. Champagne became cocktails and cocktails became shots–all with your mother and new stepfather and family and friends from your childhood. Tipsiness made you remove your heels, kicking them off to the side to a forgotten corner as your aching feet pressed against the polished floor. 

The dance floor was cramped, the band having transitioned partway through the night to someone’s phone with a playlist hooked up to the speakers. You watched your mom laugh as she was spun around by her new husband, making you smile as you nursed your glass of wine. 

“You lost something.” Joel approached, pointing to your strappy heels with a lazy finger. 

You grinned, your teeth digging into your lower lip for a moment as you looked up at him. “Looks like you did, too–a few things actually,” you said, nodding toward his shucked suit jacket and tie. The top few buttons of his white shirt were open, revealing just enough of his tanned chest to feel dangerous. He was more disheveled than before, a chilled beer bottle held loosely in his fingers and his cheeks flushed.

Joel chuckled, taking a step closer to you as he took a long drink from his beer. You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed, taking a sip of your red wine in tandem.

There was something about this man that had you all kinds of flustered, a giddy lightness in your chest when he focused his attention on you. “So why aren’t you out there dancing?” Joel asked, his warm eyes surveying the dance floor before returning.

You shook your head, a demure smile and a shrug. “Never was much of a dancer.” The last time you really danced was wasted at a frat party in college, the lights low and the music making the house shake. Far from a respectable barn wedding, and definitely not your mother’s respectable barn wedding. 

“That’s a shame,” Joel smiled at you, pressing just a bit closer, “a pretty girl like you should be out there.” 

You were surprised by the compliment, nearly choking on your wine as your eyebrows lifted. Joel was smirking, his whole body leaning toward yours. You were warm to the touch, your entire face burning under his attentions. It felt like you were in high school again, pining after some older boy that you assumed would never look at you twice–but here he was, looking.

“Do you always flirt with your friend’s stepdaughters?” you asked, hoping to come off as hard to get. Realistically, he already had you in the palm of his hand.

Joel pursed his lips, something mischievous flashing in his dark eyes for a moment. “Just the ones that look like you,” he said, his deep voice low. It was almost too quiet to hear over the music, making you shift forward so you could hear him better.

“Joel.” It would've been chastising if it wasn’t for your bright smile. He exuded an easy confidence that was magnetic, it had your nerves on fire as you selfishly hoped that he would do more than just flirt with you. Your gaze was on his lips for a moment, taking in the lines of his full bottom lip and tidy mustache before meeting his eyes again.

“The couple is getting ready to leave!” You both looked toward the door and watched the wedding planner usher guests out the barn doors. Sparklers were thrust in everyone’s hands, the photographer already positioned at the end of the walkway near the rented white Rolls Royce.

Joel’s hand found the small of your back, warm through the thin fabric of your dress as he guided you toward the door. The wedding planner handed him two sparklers, the long kind that wobbled under their own weight. 

The guests had divided into two lines, waiters lighting sparklers on either side of the column created. Joel handed you one as you stood at his side, your bare feet on the warm concrete. You held it out from your body, focused on the bright sizzle of the sparks as they made their way down the lines of powder.

Your mother and Shawn walked through the column of sparklers on cue, laughing and smiling while holding hands. They looked so happy. You could hardly imagine being that happy with someone.

She broke off for a moment to embrace you, making Joel thoughtfully pluck the sparkler out of your fingers so you didn’t burn her. 

Tears pushed at your eyelids, overwhelming joy for your mother finally breaking free of your chest. You whispered ‘I love you’s into one another’s ears and pressed kisses to cheeks as you clung to each other. The photographer’s camera was shuttering nearby, catching every intimate moment.

Finally you let her go, tearful and smiling as Shawn pulled her toward the car that would take them to their hotel. Joel’s large hand found the curve of your waist, bringing you to his side as you watched your mother get into the car. 

You were tipsy enough to allow it.

He was warm, smelling like cigar smoke and whiskey and cologne. You both were quiet as you watched the car pull away, your shoulders fitting in the space between his arm and torso.

“You wanna help me find my jacket? Think I left it around back when I was smoking a cigar with Shawn,” Joel murmured into your hair. His fingers pressed into your waist, his breath on your neck.

It was enough to distract you. You blinked your tears away, fingertips brushing at the corners of your eyes to make sure your makeup was still intact. “Sure,” you whispered, looking up at him after you’d composed yourself.

Your heart skipped a beat when Joel took your hand, tugging you along with him down the path on the outside of the barn. Both of you were tipsy, giggling and stumbling a bit over the paving stones that had been set in the tall grass. The lights faded behind you, the dim glow through the high windows of the barn and the solitary strand of Edison bulbs between the trees just enough to navigate by. 

It all happened so fast, you didn’t even know who initiated it. Joel’s calloused hands were cupping your cheeks and jaw, tilting your head up as your lips met his. He tasted like whiskey and the sweet wedding cake, making you sigh into the kiss as your fingers twisted in his shirt and pulled him close. 

You had to stand on your tip toes to kiss him properly, a few soft laughs escaping the both of you when the hard cartilage of your noses bumped and teeth clashed. 

He took steps forward until your shoulder blades pressed against the side of the barn. Joel crowded you in, one hand leaving your cheek to brace against the wood behind your waist as he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip. You could feel him smiling.

You always found French kissing to be weird, never knowing quite what to do with your tongue. Whenever a guy had initiated it you managed to cut it off quickly, moving on to some other method of making out to spare yourself the embarrassment of letting your tongue sit there like a dead fish.

Of course you’d seen people do it, always seeming like a lot more licking each other than kissing. Nevertheless, the second time Joel ran his tongue along the seam of your lips you found yourself parting them for him.

Suddenly, you understood. Joel’s tongue massaged over yours as he groaned softly. You wanted him to consume you, letting him take control as he explored your mouth. He tilted your head back more, leaning over you with his full height. You flicked your tongue along his, spine arching toward him in an attempt to get closer.

The horn of the hotel shuttle startled you as you broke apart, chests heaving and your lipstick smeared onto Joel’s mouth. 

“You staying at the same hotel as everyone else?” Joel asked, nosing at your hairline as his hands roamed over your dress. He bunched it in his fists, raising the hem above your calves and wrinkling the fabric.

“I am,” you breathed, twisting your fingers in his thick curls. 

Joel smiled against your earlobe, nipping at it. “Wanna continue this in my room? Got a king size bed and everything,” he drawled, pulling back to look down at you. There was a sparkle in his eyes, his smile was breathtaking.

You wiped your lipstick off his bottom lip with your thumb, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “You sure?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest in a form of protection from Joel’s possible rejection. 

He offered, but there was still a part of you that was worried.

He furrowed his brow, a smile still on his face as he looked down at you in the dark. “'Course I’m sure. Go get your shoes, baby, and I’ll see you on the shuttle.” Joel spun you toward the nearest door to the barn, lightly smacking your ass go get you moving.

You yelped, swatting at his hand with a glare. 

“Go on, before I ruin that pretty dress of yours in the dirt out here,” he told you, a smirk on his face as he nodded his chin toward the door. You rolled your eyes, acquiescing to his instructions.

—

It took Joel no time to get you down the hall from the packed elevator and to his room. He clumsily tapped his keycard against the sensor, stamping kisses along the side of your neck as you giggled in the cage of his arms.

Finally he got it to unlock, tightening an arm around your waist as he pushed the door open. Joel took wide, staggered steps on either side of your body as he ushered you inside. 

As soon as the door snapped shut he was already lifting the bottom of your dress, kisses turning into bites on the curve of your neck. “Jo-el,” you whined through giggles as you grabbed the forearm he’d locked around your waist. 

“Unfair that you’re this fucking pretty,” he mumbled, making your face heat up as you tried to protest. Joel shushed you by grabbing a handful of the meat of your thigh, groaning in your ear. 

“How’s it unfair?” you managed to ask, your head spinning from the overwhelming presence of Joel. His rough, calloused hands were groping at your soft flesh, his lips sucking marks on your neck like you were teenagers. 

The room was relatively untouched, his open suitcase on the stand near the large windows on the far side of the room. The curtains were slightly open, moonlight filtering in. “S’unfair that I didn’t meet you sooner,” Joel said, scraping his blunt teeth over the sensitive spot just under your earlobe. You shivered in his arms.

He separated from you just enough to shuck his suit jacket that he had haphazardly put on for the shuttle, tossing it on the little sofa in the room. You turned after stepping out of your heels, linking your hands behind Joel’s neck and pulling him in for another kiss. 

Joel smiled into it, his hands grabbing your waist and holding you flush against his body. “You still wanna do this?” His fingers moved to your spine and played with the zipper on the back of your dress, looking down at you as he waited for your answer. "Don't want you to feel pressured or anything."

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be,” you murmured, carding your fingers in his thick curls.

Joel just groaned, pressing you flush against him as he captured you in another needy kiss. He pulled the zipper of your dress down in one fluid motion, making a shiver prickle up the length of your spine.

“Let me see ya, baby,” he said against your mouth, pulling the thick straps of your dress down your arms. 

You let the fabric pool at your feet, your sheer, skin-colored bra and panties leaving little to the imagination. A wave of insecurity flashed over you, your skin suddenly feeling stretched too tight over your body as your face and neck heated up. 

You were too aware of the parts of yourself that you didn’t like: the dimpled flesh on the outside of your thighs and the hairs you hadn’t plucked away because the wedding was the last place you thought you’d find a one night stand. A wobbly smile formed, your instinct making you bury your face in Joel’s neck to hide.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear his praise. His massive hands ran down your sides, thumbing at the mesh of your bra and panties before he started moving you backwards.

Your calves hit the bed, making you squawk in an unflattering way as Joel lowered you to the mattress. “You’re so gorgeous,” he breathed, his lips trailing down your neck until he was kissing and sucking at your sternum. He nudged your knees apart with his free hand, his other forearm planted on the mattress to hold his weight off of you. He slotted himself in the space between your thighs as his tongue laved over your nipple through the mesh fabric of your bra.

The noise that came out of your throat was embarrassing. Your breath turned into a strangled moan, eyebrows pinching together. The sensation only made your arousal increase tenfold, spine already arching to press your tit against his mouth. 

Joel chuckled, soft brown eyes ticking up to look at your face. “That sensitive?” he said, more of a statement than a question. You found yourself nodding anyway. He thumbed at your other nipple, making it bud against the thin fabric and pulling another whine from your throat. He snickered.

“Don’t tease,” you huffed, wiggling your hips and lightly squeezing his sides with your knees. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” Joel muttered, a smile stretching on his lips as he rolled the pad of his thumb over your nipple again. He placed kisses along your stomach, making you suck in the soft flesh on reflex. His coarse facial hair tickled your skin, making you giggle a bit as he continued to work his way down your form.

“Just wanna taste ya, okay?” Joel asked, his broad shoulders between your spread thighs. His thick fingers hooked into your panties, manipulating your legs so he could pull them off and toss them somewhere in the room. He pressed your legs apart before you could snap them shut, a seed of worry taking root in your mind as you looked down at him.

You’d never been so self-conscious during a hook-up before, but for some reason Joel felt different. Your thoughts were preoccupied on how you looked from his vantage point, if you smelled alright and if anything looked weird.

“Been wanting to taste you all night, ever since I saw you standing up there during that damn ceremony.”

He spread you apart with his thumbs, eyes focused on your already wet pussy as a smirk stretched across his features. He just stared, making you want to crawl back into yourself. Then the feeling of his tongue on your clit makes you forget your worries, your face scrunching as you moaned. Joel hooked your leg over his shoulder, your heel pressing against his back as he pushed your thighs even further apart. 

You couldn’t remember a time when you’d been so soaked before, sticky arousal practically gushing out of you. Joel’s wide tongue licked long stripes up your cunt, careful to practically gulp down everything that he could. He was groaning as he ate you out, his big hands digging into your waist to pull you closer. The coarse hair of his beard was rough against the soft skin of your inner thighs 

“Oh–oh god, Joel,” you sighed, propping yourself up on an elbow so you could look at him. 

Your thighs were quaking, pressing against his ears as your hips twitched. Joel’s dark eyes were hazy and half lidded as he lapped over your clit, working with a focus you’d never experienced with any other man. He looked beautiful between your legs, belly-down on the mattress and still dressed in his button down shirt and slacks. 

One of his hands left your hip, snaking up your stomach to reach blindly until he cupped your breast. He pulled at the cup of your bra, revealing your peaked nipple. The bud was immediately pinched between his thumb and forefinger, making you arch your back as you let out another whine of his name.

Joel dipped down to shove his searing tongue inside of you as his nose bumped into the swollen bead of your clit. A bolt of lightning ricocheted up your spine, a gasp leaving you. It felt so good you could almost cry, your chest heaving and hips clumsily grinding toward his mouth. You were already starting to tremble, pleasure sparking in the pit of your stomach as he mouthed at you. 

And then he pulled back.

“Joel!” you yelped, starting to sit up as your gaze hardened into a glare. Your pussy clenched around nothing, neglected and empty with an interrupted orgasm.

He huffed a laugh, looking down at you as he knelt on the bed in front of you. “You’re right, baby, that’s my name,” he teased, his voice deep and smokey. 

He grabbed you roughly by the hips, pulling so you fell to your back again. “You fucker–” Joel cut you off by pressing the backs of your knees until you were bent in half, a brief show of just how strong he was. His calloused hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, readjusting you again so the small of your back was propped up against his quads. You’d never been in this angle before, your pussy the highest point of your body as he pushed his forearms against your thighs to keep you still.

Joel’s hot breath washed over your cunt before he delved back into it, greedy as he started sucking on your clit. With the way you were contorted, you were completely helpless, any attempt to move your hips just made your thighs push uselessly against his arms. You were soaking, your arousal dripping down to your asshole as you whimpered pathetically.

He went at a leisurely pace, taking his time to tongue at you and lick long stripes from your perineum to your clit. Your hands were clenching in the white comforter on the hotel bed, your chest heaving. There was something about being completely at his mercy that made your head spin.

You wanted to be greedy, take everything he would give you; but, Joel was in no rush, languidly pressing his face into your pussy despite your best efforts to get him to speed up. 

It was overwhelming in all the right ways, your head spinning as you watched Joel lick at you like he wanted to consume every part of you. Joel cupped your breast in a hand, strumming his thumb lightly over your nipple to keep it stimulated as you gasped. 

You were delirious by the time he sunk two fingers into you, almost making you scream. Joel took a few breaths, his pink lips swollen and shiny with your arousal as he studied your expression. You could hardly think straight, strings of curses mixed with his name falling from your lips as you panted like a bitch in heat. 

The squelching sound of his fingers lazily pumping into your pussy filled the hotel room, loud enough to make your cheeks burn. You wetted your lips, trying to catch your breath beneath Joel.

“So fucking tight around my fingers,” Joel mumbled, the words muffled and wet because he didn’t pull away. It didn’t even feel like he was talking to you, communing with your pussy instead. The praise went directly to your head, making you tighten around his fingers. You threaded a hand in his hair, keeping his mouth pressed against you. “Tastes just as good as I expected.”

“Oh… oh my god,” you breathed, your climax building toward its precipice. 

Joel wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, just barely speeding up the rhythm of his fingers fucking into you. His thumb on your nipple followed suit, matching the motion as tears filled your eyes. Your fingers threaded into his curls, your brows furrowed as you pulled on his hair. He grunted against you, not letting up as he worked you up toward the edge. 

When you came it was a whole body event. Your legs trembled, hips burning from the awkward angle Joel had bent you into. Your back arched, breath pausing in your chest. Your cunt clenched around his fingers, sucked tight and feeling every inch of them inside you. The pleasure was white-hot as it coursed through you, leaving your nerves buzzing and your ears ringing as your body went limp.

“So pretty when you come,” Joel said, his thick fingers still deep inside you.

You were almost nonverbal, your response a delirious sob as you looked up at Joel with watery eyes. He caressed your cheek, gently stroking your jaw and thumb wiping over your lower lip. You kissed the pad of it out of reflex, the motion making his expression soften for a moment.

Then he started to massage the spongy spot inside of your dripping pussy, making your eyes roll back. “Too sensitive,” you whined, grabbing onto his forearm in a weak attempt to stop him. 

“Trust me, baby, I’ve got you,” he said in that syrupy tone, gaze still locked on your face as you squirmed. He took his hand away from your cheek, holding one of your legs to keep you still as he fucked his fingers into you. “You can do one more for me, right?”

The need to please him made you nod, taking in a deep and shaky breath. You couldn’t do anything but take it, your mouth dropping open and your back arching. The overstimulation made you tremble, your whole body squirming. Breaths kept huffing out of you, your brows pinched tight as you tried to relax. It was hard to think straight, hell, it was hard to even breathe. 

Joel pulled his fingers out of you for a moment to strum over your swollen clit, only touching you with just enough pressure to drive you crazy. He continued until you were straining against him, moaning and sobbing his name. It was like he was carved from stone, hardly giving you any leeway as he kept you in place. The pressure in you built faster this time, it was almost embarrassing how quick he was able to get you to the edge. 

“Joel, Joel, Joel–ohmygod,” you gasped, reaching for purchase against his thigh. His dress pants were soft under your fingers as you squeezed, your body practically vibrating. 

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured soothingly, pressing a wet kiss to the back of your thigh as his fingers hooked back into you. 

Joel fucked you on them at a ruthless pace as his thumb rolled over the crest of your sex, your mouth opening in a wordless cry as you fell into your second orgasm of the night. You were completely lost, your eyes squeezed shut as your muscles spasmed against the restraint of Joel’s arms. White noise filled your mind, your body melting against Joel’s thighs and the bed as your legs fell open even further. 

He rubbed along the seam of your cunt soothingly, calloused fingers working you through the aftershocks. Your eyes were completely hazed when you looked up at him, splayed on the bed like every bone had been pulled from your body. He looked positively giddy, his wet fingers smearing on your thigh as he rubbed your legs in an effort to help you come back to yourself.

Joel let you off of him, returning your spine to the mattress as he leaned over you to give you a kiss. You hummed into it, smelling and tasting your salty-sweet slick on his lips and facial hair. “Please fuck me,” you begged between presses of his mouth, desperation easy to hear in your tone.

“‘Course I will, baby,” he said, getting off the bed to quickly undress himself. You shakily sat up, unclipping your bra at your back and tossing it aside. 

Joel was impressive, his body rippled with muscles beneath a layer of fat that told you he was eating well. Your gaze dragged down him, mouth watering as you finally saw his cock. It was big, the same tanned tone of his skin with a flushed tip. It jutted from a patch of trimmed, dark hair that was accentuated by the happy trail beneath his navel. You swallowed thickly, pussy clenching at the thought of him fucking you into the mattress.

You kissed him eagerly as he got back on the bed, part of you so desperate to please him. Joel was older than you, so much more experienced, you just wanted him to like you. 

He grunted, curling a hand around the back of your neck to keep you close. His other hand traveled down your body, massaging your hip with his thumb. You were putty in his hands, your own arms in a loop around his neck.

“Lay down,” Joel mumbled against the hinge of your jaw, nipping at the bone. You whimpered, fingers digging into the broad muscle of his shoulders as you complied. Joel ran a hand over you, sliding it down the valley between your breasts and over your soft stomach. 

The backs of your thighs were pressed against his quads as he took himself in his hand, sliding the blunt head of his cock along your pussy. You clenched around nothing, desperate and wanting. “Joel, please.” 

You couldn’t take waiting anymore.

He smirked, notching himself at your entrance and obliging you. Joel pressed and pressed and pressed until his hips were completely snug against yours. He split you in half across the width of his cock, moving slow to give you some time to adjust. It felt like he’d consumed all of the extra space in your body, you even felt him in your throat. 

You breathed brokenly, back arched and hips twitching as you struggled to find a comfortable position. You weren’t a virgin–weren’t anything close to it, really–but it felt just as overwhelming as your first time.

Joel bent over you, his elbows on either side of your head carrying his weight as he ground his hips against yours. His forehead pressed into your shoulder, a heated groan rumbling from his chest. It was hard to make sense of things, rattled breaths filling your chest as your mind whirred uselessly. He peppered kisses over your face, his lips wet and warm as he showered you in affection.

Then he moved his hips, the roll of them slow and syrupy and making you nearly choke. You grabbed at his biceps, an attempt to anchor yourself to him as he started to rut his hips into yours. He made room for himself with every press of his cock, molding you to the shape of him.

Joel collected your leg with a rough hand, pushing your knee toward your chest. He let it come to rest in the curve of his elbow, palm pressed flat to the comforter as he spread you open wider. Your hips protested as he splayed you apart, the discomfort easily taking a backseat to your pleasure.

You keened, mouth falling open as he sank even deeper inside of you. Your breaths came out in little mewls, matching Joel’s grunts as you met each thrust with a weak roll of your hips. His lips were at your throat, sucking more marks into the skin and his facial hair scratching against you. “Goddamn, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” Joel groaned into the curve of your neck, still keeping an even rhythm

You let out a breathy laugh–you felt the same way about him. He lifted himself to get a better look at you, dark brown eyes as warm as the summer sun as his gaze drifted all the way down to where his cock was buried in you. He grunted at the sight, pupils dilating like drops of ink in water.

His free hand lifted off its elbow, his weight shifting to one side so he could wet the pad of his thumb with a lick of his tongue. You were making sounds you couldn’t control, each thrust pushing a small gasp from your throat. Then, Joel dropped his hand to your lower abdomen, gently tracing the curve of your belly down into the soft thatch of hair you hadn’t bothered to shave.

A calloused thumb found your clit, swirling over it with a confident pressure in a way that made your eyes nearly roll back in your skull. Joel was pounding into the spot that made you see stars, merciless in his pace. “Joel… oh god…”

You could feel the flutter of your orgasm starting, your legs trembled against his arm and the curve of his waist. You chanted his name like a prayer, overstimulated tears starting to squeeze out of the corners of your eyes and roll into your hairline. He just soldiered on, grinding his thumb over your clit as he worked you higher and higher toward the edge.

A rattling gasp escaped your throat as you pulsed around Joel, your brows pinching and your body stiffening beneath his. You could feel the release from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head, your nails digging into his thick biceps as the flickering pleasure turned into a full on forest fire. You leaned up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto the mattress with you as you held him close.

“Fuck,” Joel moaned into your neck. His thrusts became sloppy fast, his discipline gone to the wayside now that he made you come on his cock. You felt him twitch inside you, his breath coming out in hot huffs against the curve of your shoulder. His hand grabbed your hip, pulling you down to match his frantic thrusts as he moaned your name into your skin.

You wanted to pull his head away from you so you could see how his face looked when he finished. The muscles in his abdomen clenched, his hips grinding tight to yours as he came inside of you. You moaned with him, the feeling of being filled up by him satiating a need you didn’t know you had as you dragged your blunt nails on his scalp.

Joel finally collapsed, the weight of his body pressing down on you as you combed your fingers through his hair. His hips were cradled by your legs, sweat slicking your skin wherever it was pressed together. You breathed against one another, pulling each other close as you basked in the afterglow.

You were sharing the same air, pressing loose kisses to each other's warm skin as you melted into each other for an unknown amount of time. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours.

“We should clean up,” you finally breathed, able to come back to yourself. 

Joel nodded against your neck, you felt it more than you saw it. You giggled after he didn’t move, still leaving you helpless and pinned beneath him. He seemed to make himself even more comfortable, arms constricting around you and face nuzzling closer to your throat.

“Joel,” you chastised, lightly shoving at his shoulder. It was half-hearted and meaningless–you were more than content to stay here all night if you had to.

“I like how you say that, Joel,” he said, mimicking your voice in an annoyingly high-pitched tone. It made you laugh, throwing your head back against the comforter as you shook it. 

He hissed, pulling away from you just enough to prop himself up on an elbow. “You clench around me like a fucking vise when you laugh like that, baby,” Joel muttered, swirling his fingertips over your skin. He didn’t move to pull out of you quite yet, the two of you relishing in the intimacy of your embrace.

A slow smirk crossed his face, his dark eyes flickering back up to meet yours. “Plus, what’s the point of cleaning up if I’m not done with you yet?”

–

Needless to say, you were sneaking out of his room when the dregs of sunlight started streaming through the hotel room windows, sore and exhausted, with his phone number typed into your phone and his hickeys all over your skin.

[beloveds-embrace]

I just recently got into CoD and learning all the story’s and characters, and I absolutely love your Roomemate 141 Series!

I can’t help but think of the holiday season with them, decorating with the boys (John is always happy to help, and doesn’t mind if you tell him to adjust a garland or a wreath a million times, just as long as your happy in the end, he thinks anyway you decorate makes their home look great) or going out shopping (Kyle definitely seems the type to jump at the offer to accompany you, keeping an eye out at all the things you pick up and put down to add to his shopping list to gift to you) or (-if you celebrate Christmas,) going to pick out a tree with the boys?

Johnny is trying to convince you to get the biggest fullest tree after all you should have the absolute best for the holidays…and don’t forget when your decorating it, everyone helps even if you just buy some cheap ornaments for this year because the boys don’t have any particular special ornaments (You picked out a special ornament for each of the boys to give them on Christmas…so it won’t be cheap ornaments on the tree for long…) AND when it’s time to put the Star or Angel or whatever tree topper on the tree, Simon is all the happier to be the one to lift you up to the top so you can put the finishing touch on the tree.

(And don’t think about one of the boys putting up a mistletoe in the hallway that you always walk through so now all of them are trying to get caught underneath it with you… 👀)

Waitt omg this so cute 😭 holiday decorationing means the decor tyrant that you are is fully out and thriving but in all honesty, John doesn’t mind. He loves the boys but Kyle is the one one of them with any sense of home styling but they just never have enough time to shop. But here you are, excited to decorate the space even more than you’ve already done and who is John to even think about saying no? … even if he’s sure the fairy lights are centered, love.

Said fairy lights that you got while shopping with Kyle, who leaves your side for a while and when he returns, he’s brought all your favorite candles and snacks that have run out. Also he 100% has access to your amazon or whatever wishlist so he knows what to get you for Christmas, and still would’ve known what to get even without that wishlist because he’s always so focused on you, your likes and dislikes and what catches your eyes.

Also yes johnny absolutely does try to get the biggest tree 😭 you have to remind him that you live in an apartment and if he really wants that tree then you’d need to take a wall and maybe a good chunk of the ceiling out 💀 he still does manage to convince you to buy a relatively big tree, and rewards you with making his mom’s secret hot chocolate recipe that will have you all cozy and cuddly against his side on the couch <3

Also. Ornament painting with them 🥹 just a fun little activity to have some special ornaments to hang on the tree, and you don’t even notice you are sitting on Simon’s lap while you two are painting. When it’s time to decorate the tree, it’s a group effort that ends with Simon just easily picking you up to place the star/angel on the top. The excited look on your face was absolutely worth it.

And not only do they hang up the misteltoe, they’ll be carrying it and holding it up above whenever they manage to lololol trust that Christmas is only made better with lotsss of kisses <33

[sarawritestories]

Unwavering Presence Chapter 14 (Part 1)

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

1000 Follower Celebration Post

Summary: Cassian opens up to Y/N about his mother, Y/N giving him a second chance. When the duo returned to Velaris a confrontation ensues that leads to flashbacks to the Spring.

Content Warning: mentions of death, conversations alluding to SA, Oral Sex, M receiving, Mor not keeping her hands to herself on more than one occasion.

A/N: I am so sorry this has taken longer than anticipated. I had to split this chapter into two parts strictly because it was getting extremely long! I hope you enjoy this part. Part 2 will be up quickly!

Word Count: 5.2K

Chapter 13 1000 Celebration Masterlist UP Masterlist

Reader POV

I opened and closed my mouth as Cassian knelt beside me leaning in and pressing his large hand to the Portrait. “Your mother?”

Cassian nodded, “We never knew where the Illyrian’s who killed her buried her…If they buried her. When I expressed to Az and Rhys that I wanted to build a home here, a place I could go to clear my head, I told them I wanted a place for her. So, she could be with me.”

A gust of wind whipped my skin raw causing a shiver to run down my spine, Cassian instinctively wrapped his wing around me to block the cold. “Why bring me here?”

Cassian’s gaze met mine, his hazel eyes full of guilt. “You know why.” I look down focusing on my hands. He gripped my chin and forced me to meet his eyes, glistening in the moonlight. “Princess, I have tried giving you all the gifts that money can buy. I have tried writing you a letter. Nothing seemed to get your attention.” I went to speak but he interrupted me, “I realized why. You’re scared. You trusted me with some of your deepest fears and I took advantage of that. I brought you here as my last attempt. If want to walk away after tonight. I won’t bother you anymore. But I figured there is one last gift I can give you.”

My heartbeat skyrocketed, “What’s that?”

Cassian grabbed my hand and pressed it to his chest where I could feel his heartbeat. “My heart, Princess. Let me be open with you. Let me give you mine, the way you gave me yours.”

Silence fell between us as snow began to trickle down, I kept opening and closing my mouth unsure what to say. I looked back at the image of his mother. “Tell me about her, Cass.”

“She was my favorite person in the whole world.” Cassian began and I inched closer to him, I told myself it was to use his body heat. I was a fucking liar. Cassian curled his wing tightly around me, “She taught me how to braid hair as I told you before. She was kind, she always put others before herself. All the village kids loved to be around her, she would make sure everyone was fed and had enough to drink. Everyone loved her.” His hazel eyes met mine, “You remind me of her.”

I blushed and looked back at the portrait and instinctively my hand reached out to his as he sniffled. He laced his hand through mine, cool bite of the leather around his hand biting into my skin. “So where was your father?” You looked back to the Illyrian, his smile not reaching his eyes.

“I don’t know. He abandoned my mom when she was pregnant with me.” I squeezed his hand, and he returned the gesture, “I have no idea who he is. At this point I have no interest in knowing. Any male who leaves a pregnant female alone, is not worth knowing.” We were silent for a moment, “I’m proud of where I come from. I’m proud of my heritage as an Illyrian. What I’m not proud of though is our ancient traditions. My mother had a bastard born child. The Illyrians are traditional and believe a woman should have a child within marriage.” I could feel the pit in my stomach growing, “She always wanted what was best and protected me. So, she made me flee. Where I had to fend for myself. Find my own shelter, my own food. Until one winter evening, Rhysand found me. The bastard made me come home with him, and his mom insisted I eat and get some rest. We have been together ever since.”

“What happened, to your mother? I know you said she died but…” I whispered; Cassian’s face morphed into sadness as he swiped the tears from my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Princess. I like that you display your emotions so openly.” He places his hand down from my face. “After the blood rite, I returned to my old village. She was nowhere to be seen. I searched for her in every place I could think of. I knew in my heart, she was dead.” Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he didn’t go to swipe them, “I wished I would have been able to tell her I loved her. I wish I could have told her so many things, Sweetheart.” He released my hand and placed his palms over her eyes, “I just wanted her to be proud of me.”

Not being able to contain myself I turned to face him fully and straddled his lap, gripping his wrist I pulled his hands away from his face. His eyes met mine I pressed my forehead to his, “Cassian, your mother would be so proud of you.”

The general shook my hands off and gripped my waist, “Not this past week and a half she wouldn’t. He closed his, “Baby, I’m-“

I cupped his face and pressed his lips to mine. He whimpered as he kissed me back, pulling me closer to him. We broke away and he swiped a strand of hair from my face, “I forgive you.”

“Really?” He whispered.

I cupped his face and he leaned into my touch, “We have a lot to discuss. Cassian, I don’t want to be hurt again.”

“I will make this up to you for as long as I live.”

“This was a good start.” Cassian began stroking my back.  “You did give me the best gift tonight.”

“What’s that?”

I pressed my hand on his chest. “Your heart.”

“My heart has been yours to take.”  He buries his face in my neck and inhaling deeply. We stayed like that for a few moments, the cold not bothering us as we simply hold each other. He lifted his head, gripped the back of his neck, “Listen to me, you are amazing, beautiful, and strong. I have never once thought of you as weak. I am so sorry for what I said. But you must know, you’re it for me. I want no one else, so I’m keeping you, so long as you’ll let me.”

I smiled, “Does this mean I get to keep you too?”

“You never lost me, Sweetheart.” He brushes his nose over mine, I do have a confession.” My face must have looked panicked because he laughed. “It’s nothing bad, I swear. When Mor had brought Feyre back from the Spring Court, I told you I was heading to Windhaven for a week. I didn’t go to Windhaven. I came here.”

I tilted my head, “Why lie about that? Seems a bit…”

“Ridiculous?” I nodded, “I didn’t want you to know that I was coming here to tell my mother about you. How I met this amazing human woman, who was kind and gentle, yet not afraid to put even a High Lord in his place. How she walks in a room and my day instantly improves. She smiles and it feels like my heart is going to combust.” I wasn’t sure I was breathing anymore.  “I just wanted to share that with her.”

A shiver trails down my spine and adjusting his grip under my thighs he hoists us up as he stands holding me as though I weigh nothing, “Come on I still have one more surprise for you.” He walked us toward the cabin, and I peeked over his shoulder looking back at the memorial. A butterfly in a climate too cold landed on the frame of the portrait. Before I could acknowledge the little creature, Cassian opened the door and set me down.

I turned and I pressed my hand to my chest, the dining and living room were right where you entered the cabin, the kitchen to the right. Everything was bright and warm, though the dining room table with wildflowers and candles at the center and two plates with silverware. One plate I assumed was mine had a leather-bound journal. “Cassian, I have so many journals.”

“That one isn’t empty though.” I furrowed my brow and looked at him. “Go read it, I’ll grab our dinner.”

“Who did all the set up?”

“Azriel, he left right before we arrived.” I walked over to where the journal was and sat down as Cassian took both of our plates to fill. I opened the journal and found the book complete full. Flipping to the first page my breath hitched.

My Dear Princess,

Nothing pained me more than sitting in this chair unable to move and watch you walk away. Knowing that my anger was the thing that caused it. To see the tears in your eyes and to know that I was the one that put the sadness in your eyes has sat with me for hours now. So, I went into the village and bought this journal. I figured writing to you is the next best thing I have right now. Since I know, you won’t talk to me for a while. Gods you’ve only been gone an hour and I miss you so much.

I flip through the pages; some are fresh letters pages long. “Cassian.”

“Three days left with my thoughts. I figured I would share them all with you.” Tears welled up in my eyes. As Cassian set the plate down the aromas of potatoes and seared meat caused my stomach to rumble. “Hey, look at me.” I met his warm hazel eyes as his callous fingers kissed the nape of my neck. “I never want you to feel the way you did with Nesta, or Xavier. I want to be better. Because you deserve better.” He tapped the journal, “Read these, whenever you need a reminder, that you’re worthy of the affection you receive, or that you need to take care of yourself, or we happen to be apart, and I can’t be there to comfort you when you need it. I am no poet or author, but with you I have always been good at sharing my feelings, you made it easier to open up. This is my last gift for you…tonight that is.”

I leapt out of my chair and into his arms, “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’m glad the universe led me to you, Cassie.”

His hand cradled the back of my head, as he kissed the top of it. “So am I.” He held me tightly before pushing me away, “Shall we eat?”

I nodded and both of us sat down and began to eat, we spent all evening talking about what we had been up to since I left. His hand had a permanent spot on my thigh, he would gently rub his thumb along my thigh, and I would smile. Once dinner was done, I offered to do the dishes of which he politely told me no. Then brought out a slice of my favorite cake for us to share. When it was done I yawned.

“Want to go to bed? I had the guest bedroom prepped for you.” I blinked at him.

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to assume we were sharing a bed tonight. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My mind went to Xavier and how if he were in this position, I would have had no choice of where I slept. I shivered, “Cassian, I want to stay with you tonight. Just sleeping.”

Cassian nodded. “Just sleeping.” He led me to his master room which was quite large and handed me a shirt to change into. “We’ll go back home in the morning.”

I yawned once more, “Okay.” I looked around, “Bathroom?”

He pointed to the door next to the one we entered. I smiled, reached up and kissed his cheek and headed to the other room to change. When I emerged, I pressed my back to the wall. Cassian’s shirt was off tattoos on full display. I bit my lip as I watched his muscles flex underneath the moonlight. I would have asked Feyre to paint this and call it, the General getting ready for bed. “Princess are you ok-ohh” Cassian stumbled as he turned and faced me, “Gods you’re beautiful.” My heart fluttered as his eyes raked down my body and my bare legs. One thing I knew was his eyes met mine once more.

I needed him.

Be Brave, Archeron.

I sunk to my knees. The general’s chest stopped moving, “Princess, what are you doing?” His voice was low and husky.

I began to crawl toward him, “I missed you, General.” He swallowed, the lump in his throat bobbed.  I stopped when I reached his feet. My hand sliding up his thick muscular thighs.  “I want to make you feel good.” I placed kisses along his pants his thighs twitch under my touch and when I reached the center of his thighs. His erection was pressing against his pants, and I licked over his clothed cock maintaining eye contact as his hand slides through my hair as he moaned.

“Princess, we don’t have to,” his eyes held seriousness, and something warmed my heart at his words.

“Cassian, I want to. Now take off your pants.”

The Illyrian didn’t argue as he pulled down his pants. I gripped his thighs as his cock springing free. He looked down at me as his pupils consumed the hazel in his eyes, barely visible. Sticking my tongue out I swiped up his shaft. “Fuck,” He groaned leaning his head back.

I paused my mind looming back to the conversation that we had regarding safe words, “We won’t need it…I don’t think, but Ruby. He met my gaze once more, “My safe word is Ruby.”

Cassian bent down kissing me, “Use it, everything stops immediately. If you can’t use that pretty little mouth of yours.”  He kissed my lips, once more. “One tap on my thigh tells me your getting close to your limit.” Another kiss, “Two taps and we’re done. Okay and I need you to be honest, Sweetheart. You need to tell me.”

“I promise,” I whispered and crashed his lips to mine.

He pulled away. “Good,” He was about to say something but that fell away as I closed my mouth at his tip, taking his length slowly. He moaned as he lightly tugged on my hair, “You really are trouble. We said just sleeping.”

I hummed in approval, taking him deeper my nails digging into his thighs as I flicked my eyes up to him. Pulling away to the tip I swiped my tongue over his slit. “Princess.” His nickname on his tongue caused my toes to curl.

Putting him out of his misery I began bobbing my head, his hand guiding me. He sunk deeper into my throat. “Sweetheart. I’m not going to last very long.” I picked up my paced, “Will you touch yourself for me, sweet girl.” I instinctively slid my hand down and massaged my clit, moaning as against him. 

Cassian began thrusting, his pace sporadic and the sensation began to feel too much as I slipped my fingers into my folds. I tapped his thigh once. He slowed his pace slightly, “You, okay? Tap once if you are.”

I tapped him once. “Good Girl,” the praise shot straight to my core. He groaned, his grip on my hair tightened. “Fuck.”

I moaned continuously as I chased my own high when Cassian held my head in place as he found his release, “That’s it baby take it all.” His cum shot to the back of my throat and I drank it, greedily. “Now, come for me, Princess.” Sliding out of my mouth a trail of spit connecting my mouth to his cock, as my stomach tightened close to an orgasm, “You look so pretty, touching yourself, Cassian moved behind me and pulled my hand away.  I whined as he huskily said, “Allow me.” And his mouth was on my clit and his fingers sliding into my core.

“Cassian,” I moaned out as his fingers began to curl hitting that sweet spot, making stars appear in my vision. Cassian’s tongue was relentless on my swollen bud, but it was only when he pulled away to lightly blow on the sensitive bundle of nerves that I came all over his fingers.

The general kept moving his fingers helping me ride out my orgasm. He slowly withdrew his fingers, and I felt empty. Cassian walked over to wipe his hand on his old shirt. He walked to the bathroom while I stood. When he walked back out there was a rag in his hand pants back over his hips, “Get on the bed for me will you?” I did , and Cassian gently moved my thigh.

“Cassian, I can’t take any more.” I whimpered and met his eyes. His hazel hue irises held pain in them.

“Princess, I’m cleaning you up, I’m not...” He couldn’t find the words. He sighed. “I would never force you to give more than what you are willing to offer. I just want to take care of you make you feel clean before I hold your gorgeous body to mine tonight.”

Tears welled up in my eyes. “Fuck.” I covered my face, “No one has ever done that before.”

Cassian rubbed my exposed thigh soothingly, “Get used to it, Sweetheart. Me taking care of you after is a non-negotiable for me.” calloused fingers pull my hands from my face, so I must look in his gorgeous face, “Never expect to be treated any less than the princess you are.” He wiped the tears from my face.  “Especially when you’re in my care.”

“Cass-“

“Shhh, sweet girl.  I have you.” I nodded as he wipes the warm rag through my center cleaning me as tears silently fell from my face. Once Cassian was done, he tossed the rag, “Scoot.” He smiled as I moved to the opposite side of the bed. The general slid into the bed, and his arm snaked around my waist pulling me close. He pressed his forehead to mine and his thumb swiped against my hip bone. “Tell me what’s on your mind.” He whispered.

My eyes fluttered closed, “I missed being in your arms.” I yawned once more, “You make me feel safe.”

“I’m not letting you go anytime soon.” Cassian whispered, exhaustion coating his own voice.

“Please don’t.” And in a matter of moments sleep overpowered me.

We walked into the town home together, hands clasped, smiles bright, the next evening and reached the dining room where the atmosphere shifted to something dark. “What’s going on?” Cassian queried.

No one answered his question. Looking over to Azriel his shadows were almost completely hidden his posture straight, Mor taking a sip of her wine next to him, her finger grazing his arm in languid strokes. Her hand slowly moving his hand around the nape of his neck twirling with his curls. Cassian led me to the two empty seats across from the blonde and the spymaster. Azriel’s face looked pain as Rhys spoke. “Glad to see you two made up.”

Cassian said something that I drowned out my gaze focusing on the two fae in front of me. I recognized the look on his face. It’s one that I had expressed too many times myself. Her touch was unwanted, unwelcome. I took a steadying breath trying to keep the rage I felt from spilling over. Azriel was kind and gentle and had always been kind. He won’t tell her to get off for those exact reasons. Memories washed over me at the sight of Mor, touching him.

I wished he would stop touching me. Xavier’s hand gripped my thigh, hiking my skirt. My orders were simple, sit and look pretty. What made that challenging is Xavier trying to expose me to everyone in Graysen’s armies as he did so. His mouth connected to my neck, and I closed my eyes and started to count. Something I had grown accustomed to when he would put me on display this way. Counting the seconds for his hands that were once loving, now grown cruel were off my body.

Voices bring me back to the present and my eyes locked with Azriel. Pain is there and Its as though I can see him counting himself until she got his hands off him. I took another breath.

Be Brave, Archeron. He needs you.

“Mind taking your hand off the Shadow Singer, Mor.” I quipped, and everyone froze the conversation long forgotten.

Mor quirked a brow, “Excuse me?”

“He’s uncomfortable with you touching him. Fix it.” I said with no room for argument in my tone.

“Or what?” Mor sneered gripping Azriel’s neck tighter. His face grimaced at her touch.

I grabbed the knife, grasping it by the tip I tossed it without thinking twice, the blade slicing her skin causing her to move her arm, just before it found purchase against the wall behind her. “Or next time I won’t miss. Read the room when someone is fucking uncomfortable with your hands on them. Azriel does not belong to you.” I snarled baring my teeth.

Mor rose to her feet, “Rhysand, Am I needed for you debriefing the love birds?”

“Go.” Rhysand said his voice even, but his eyes were distant as if he too was having haunting memories of a time when his body was not his to control. His eyes met mine, “We’ll talk about that stunt later.”

A cheshire grin appeared on my face, “Happily.” I looked at Azriel who was watching me in stunned silence. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.” I said maintaining eye contact with Az.

His shadows swarmed over him covering his face. I understood their need to protect their master and looked back at Rhys. Not ignoring the bump to my knee from Cassian as he kept his leg touching mine, a silent reminder here was there. “We go to the Hewn City in a week’s time.”

“Shit,” Cassian muttered.

I looked to my general and back at Rhysand, “What’s the Hewn City?”

Amren, who had been abnormally quiet this whole time, spoke, “A vile city where the Night Court Underbelly resides. Also lovingly referred to as Mor’s home.”

Rhys snorted at that sentiment, “Her father had thought He would be next in line. He was sorely disappointed to find out that wasn’t the case.”

“Why do we have to go there?” I asked.

Rhys looked at Cassian. “To get the Veritas Orb.”

Cassian groaned, “Shit. So, the meeting didn’t go well.”

As Rhys and Cassian started a discussion, I finally took a look at my sister. “Fey?” Her eyes met mine, her hues of blue swirled with emotion. “What happened?”

“We ran into Lucien on our way home.” I stilled. “He wanted me to come hom- to the Spring Court.” Her face paled and I gripped her hand. “Rhysand intervened at some point, but it caused me to write a letter to Tamlin.”

“Oh?”

Feyre smiled, “I told him I was never coming back and sent that over this morning.”

I smiled and squeezed her hand, “I’m proud of you.”

Feyre smiled, “Me too. Lucien was relieved to hear you were alive though. I never told you this when I got here. He was crushed when he learned about what happened. Light came back into his eyes when he found out that wasn’t the case.”

My smile faltered slightly. “I’m sure.”

Sitting in front of the fireplace on the chill spring evening I watched the wood kindle the fire, the wood popping every so often.

“You are a hard person to find.” My head snapped to the doorway to find Lucien leaning against the door frame. He was in a white tunic and tight hunting pants. He had pulled his hair up into a Bun to keep out of his face. The firelight danced across his dark tan skin but highlighted the scar over his left eye.

“Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t want to be found?” I glanced back at the fire. His boots clicked against the tile indicating he was coming toward me. He opted to take the seat next to me leaning to the cart and pouring himself a glass of amber liquid. I glanced over to him to see him pouring a second one and holding it out for me. “You have been noticeably absent too.” I whispered taking the glass.

“I’m sorry, Sunshine.” Lucien pressed his lips in a tight line. “I have been busy.”

“Well aware.” I murmured while sipping my drink. Lucien and I were not fast friends by any means. The nickname he called me once grated on my nerves, which was his reason for doing it. Though as Tamlin and Feyre’s relationship grew into something more, our rivalry suddenly ceased, and a friendship bloomed in its place.

Our favorite pass time being making fun at Tamlin’s horrible attempts at courting Feyre. The four of us walking through the warm spring sun, the flowers in full bloom Lucien’s arms looped in mine as we watched on as Tamlin stumbled over talking with Feyre. Lucien in turn would dramatically reenact, making me burst into laughter causing the High Lord and my sister to turn and glare. We hadn’t been able to walk together on the grounds since our return from Under the Mountain. Lucien particularly made himself scarce around Ianthe and I longed for him to take me to avoid her insufferable presence.

Lucien’s voice was quiet as he spoke once more. “Tamlin told me, I couldn’t take you. I wanted to.”

“Lucien, you don’t have to explain.” I let the burn of the alcohol coat my throat. We sat for a moment; the sound of the fire whirring was the only sound in the sitting room. “I noticed.” I could feel Lucien’s attention toward me, but I continued to look at the fire. “The way you tense when she walks into a room,” He stilled knowing who I talked about without ever having to use her name. “If you want to talk about it, you know where to find me.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Lucien clipped finishing his drink and pouring himself another.

“Well, if you just want to sit and brood about it…we can do that together too.” I sighed downing the rest of my drink. “Survivors have to stick together, right?” I looked at the red-haired male.

Lucien slowly met my stare, his russet eyes filled with sorrow. “Sunshine...”

Then the words began to pour out of my mouth before I could stop them. “His name was Xavier…”

“He is the only good thing in the Spring Court.” I said straightening back in my chair.

“Barely, he never stands up to Tamlin.” Feyre murmured.

“Feyre, you don’t understand,” I countered picking at my food, Cassian pressing his leg deeper to mine. Reassurance.

“Understand what?”

I glanced back at her, “How hard it is to regain your voice, when someone has stolen it from you.”

Feyre’s throat bobbed, “You managed.”

I placed my fork on the table and stood from my seat, ignoring the two pairs of Hazel eyes and one violet set, staring at me with concern. “Did I?” I walked away.

Walking toward my room, a delicate hand gripped my arm and slammed me into the wall. Nails dug into my cheeks squishing them tightly together. I blinked and brown eyes and silky blonde hair came into my vision. “I’m going to make this clear.” Mor’s voice was cold and distant as I gripped her wrist trying to pull her off me. “I’m not fond of being made a fool” I tried to move she pressed her body against mine to keep me in place. Her eyes raked my face, and she tucked a loose stand of hair behind my ear. “I mean it would be a shame if something happened to poor sweet Feyre, as a result of your reckless actions.” I sobbed, clawing at her wrist and Mor cooed, “Oh, not so tough now are you. You’re such a fragile little thing.” She leaned in her sweet perfume filling my nostrils, “If I wanted to, I could-

“What’s going on here?” Amren’s voice rang through the hall causing Mor to freeze. “I would suggest letting her go, girl. Before her general finds you.” Amren crossed her arms causing her silver shirt that matched her eyes to rise to reveal a small band of skin. “Now, Morrigan. I don’t enjoy repeating myself.” Her voice was lethal, at this moment, I understood why she was Rhys’ second in command.

Mor released my face, not before she broke skin in some places. Glaring at me, “Stay in line, Human. You’re a lot more fragile than the rest of us.”

“That’s Enough, Mor.” My chest tightened to the sound of Cassian’s voice. Mor immediately took two steps back. “You need to go to the Hewn City. Rhys’ orders.” Cassian came into view, his wings tucked in tight, his siphons ablaze.

“Rhys can give them to me himself.” Mor pouted crossing her arms like a child.

Amren rolled her silver swirled eyes, “Go to the Hewn City. Maybe going to spend some time with your father will do you good.” Mor’s straightened but not before shooting me one more glare. She left not before bumping into Cassian’s shoulder.

Amren’s silver eyes gleamed at me, assessing, a smirk on her red painted lips “You are a fierce one, girl. You are not afraid to put someone in their place and you’re quickly becoming my favorite human I have come in contact with.” Her face fell slightly, “But tread carefully with Mor. She is not an enemy you wish to have; you’ll learn why when you meet who sired her.” She nodded her head toward me a silent goodbye and left Cassian and I alone in the hallway.

Cassian was on me the instant the short female made it down the stairs. He assessed my face for injuries, and his nostrils flared at the scratch on my face, “Stop.” I whispered.

His response came quickly. “No.”

“Cassian, I’m-“

“Don’t you dare say your fine when you’re trembling like a leaf.” I looked down to see my hands violently shaking. His hands covered mine to his steady fingers forcing mine to still.  “I’m right here, Princess.” He whispered.

“She threatened to hurt Feyre because of me.” I met his hazel eyes.

His expression darkened, “We should tell Rhys.”

I shook my head, “Can we wait? Maybe this was a one-time thing.”

Cassian sighed kissing both of my knuckles wrapped in his warm grasp. “I don’t like it. If it happens again, we tell Rhys. Got it?”

I nodded my head and Cassian released my hands to carry me in his arms. “Come on. We’re going to bed.” I leaned my head against his shoulder and allowed him to carry me to his room.  The scent of Leather and Sandalwood comforting me, so my eyes drooped closed. Cassian murmuring something I couldn’t decipher as I fell asleep.

To Be Continued...

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieloo @tuggboatfishin @judig92 @atrxidxs @dustyinkpages @secretlyhers @mxblobby @blogforficslol @historygeekqueen @turtleshavesoulmates @scooobies @anuttellaa @earth-to-lottie @slytherintaco @fxckmiup @tinystarfishgalaxy @cheesebookgirl @oucereeng @st0rmyt @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @misslunatic1655 @azrielsmate3 @nebarious @tele86 @chelsiemp @fightmedraco @fullmoon-94 @thehighlordishere @jenniferpendragon @ray4hotchner @phoenix666stuff @misskennygirl @whitewolfsbitch @highladyivy @tenaciousperfectionunknown @packsvlog @heyyhelloohii @parabatai-winchester @julesofvolterra @lilah-asteria @lyanna133 @mp-littlebit @nickishadow139 @milswrites @eve175 @blackgirlmagicforever

[kazutora-kurokawa]

TokRev Christmas HCs

♡ SFW, fluffy, final timeline au, gn reader (mostly about the characters and less about reader lol) ♡

note: A day late but Merry Christmas (and whatever other holidays y'all celebrate 💕) hope everyone had a good time yesterday and it wasn't too stressful, now let's jump into a lot of headcanons lol

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🎁 Mikey goes outside as soon as it starts snowing, he could spot a little snowflake out the corner of his eyes and he's immediately calling everyone outside

🎁 Takemichi used to go outside without a jacket all the time and always regretted not listening to his mom when she told him to put one on

🎁 If Pah is standing under a mistletoe he won't even notice, Peh has to explain (and scream) what the mistletoe means

🎁 Kazutora and Hanma carry around mistletoe and hold it over your head to get you to kiss them

🎁 Baji and Chifuyu dress up Peke J in a little elf costume and end up with multiple cat scratches (worth it tho)

🎁 Peke J also loves messing with the decorations on the tree, twice as annoying as any toy with a bell in it

🎁 Shinichiro always decorates the Christmas tree in the Sano household (with Izana and Emma's help ofc) and one year, Mikey was half asleep and walked into it, knocking the entire tree over and putting a hole in the wall

🎁 Mikey can never reach the Christmas decorations, so he throws his sandal at the box and knocks it off the shelf (and it falls on him lmao)

🎁 Koko and Inui (and Akane) always spend Christmas with Taiju, Hakkai, and Yuzuha, even when they tell Taiju they have other plans (loyalty to the boss fr)

🎁 Mitsuya makes Taiju a shark plushie and he almost cries

🎁 Mitsuya makes scarves, hats, and gloves for a lot of Toman members (even when he knows they probably won't wear them)

🎁 Mitsuya also makes stuff for his sisters and mom because he's just an absolute sweetheart

🎁 Izana and Kakucho still make snow forts like they did when they were younger, except now they do it with the rest of Tenjiku and the kids they take care of

🎁 Takemichi and Hina have accidentally gotten each other the same thing at least three times and they pretend that they planned to match

🎁 The Toman captains and vcs do a secret Santa gift exchange and Nahoya and Baji just steal stuff from the person they have to get a gift for and give it back disguised as an actual present

🎁 Nahoya and Souya bake cookies for the Toman captains and vcs and put them in cute little gift bags

🎁 Takeomi doesn't really like Christmas (Grinch ass mf) but he tries to make it fun for Senju and Haru

🎁 Wakasa loves Christmas because he always gets gifted fancy candy and chocolates

🎁 Benkai puts Waka on his shoulders so he can put a star on top of the tree

🎁 December is Akkun, Chifuyu, and Makoto's birthday month, so they all get double presents

🎁 Kisaki buys Hanma a new motorcycle and Hanma never lets him live it down

"Aww, you do love me Kisaki ♡"

"Shut up you freak." - a flustered Kisaki

🎁 Everyone goes to Takemichi's for Christmas and damn near wreck his house (Michi just can't get a break can he?)

🎁 One Christmas, Kazutora got a letter from his father and proceeded to burn it (as he should), then him and Baji tracked him down and busted his car windows out

🎁 Toman always takes a bunch of pictures during Christmas and Emma prints them out and puts them in little photo books to gift to them

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe @southside-otaku @xxchthonicreaturexx @evergreen-endo @hanmaslilslut @dystop4in14nd @mysouleaten @mdsbabygirl

[peapodbond]

that was us part two

abby hasn't thought about tommy much. it's been almost ten years since they broke up. she sees him sometimes, at the bar nights that are still going strong, but they've expanded over the years and it's easy for both of them to circle around each other. they wave occasionally and she'd checked in with him after the warehouse explosion he was caught in, but for the most part they're just two people in the same social group.

her mom gets sick and she has less and less free time.

she's never been as devastated about the breakup as everyone thought that she should have been. she gets it. they'd been engaged for over a year, together in some form or another for three, and in most cases that would be earth shattering.

the thing that people don't understand is. abby had fallen into the relationship after getting the news that her swimming career was over. tommy had been fresh out of the army and trying to find some solid footing.

he'd spent the first year watching abby rub vitamin e cream into her surgical scars and massaging her shoulder whenever it tightened up, which was especially often once the temperature started dropping.

abby had watched him wake up in the middle of the night, chest heaving, his eyes so tired and hollow that she'd been worried something would happen. the nightmares had gotten better over the years, and she knew he'd started talking to someone, but they'd never completely gone away.

she'd asked about them a few times, but tommy didn't want to talk about it. she couldn't blame him. she could barely talk about swimming without wanting to hit something.

she's seen the scars on his body, has known him since he started fighting fires. knows which ones were there before the first time he got hurt on the job. even with the missing pieces she didn't like the picture it painted.

abby has a wall mounted pulley system because she'd complained about her gym not having first responder friendly hours and tommy spent a week researching the best home versions. he'd even removed and reinstalled it when she'd moved.

tommy probably still has the stress balls she'd made him for when his feet seized up after a long shift. she'd learned how make them when she was swimming, still has her own set and uses them on her shoulder.

she finds out about the harbor transfer on a call, when firefighter pilot kinard is the one updating her on the status of their patient for the hospital.

he sounds better than he has in years.

she makes a point to go to the next bar night. carla teases her about having a date. abby laughs, because it's the closest thing she's had in a year and yet this is definitely not a date.

she orders them both a drink and finds her way over to his table. tommy beams and pulls her into the booth with sal. she congratulates firefighter pilot kinard on his new job, tommy thanks dispatcher clark for the drink, and sal rolls his eyes at both of them. abby hears about gina, who sounds incredible. tommy makes a crack about her needing to be, to put up with sal. tommy's not seeing anyone right now, and abby finally admits that she's talking to someone on the phone but it probably won't go anywhere. both of them start laughing at her when she tells them he's a firefighter.

abby heads off the teasing about having a type by reminding them both that two firefighters in thirteen years does not a pattern make. they don't tease her any more but she gets the feeling they don't believe her. she doesn't mention her mother as they catch up; it feels like too heavy a subject for an evening that's basically a celebration, even if it's a few months late.

they debate whether crazy stupid love might be the best romcom made in the last ten years, and if pride and prejudice and zombies was worth the adaptation. 

she doesn't stay long — carla still needs to get home at a decent hour, and she has a shift the next day. tommy walks her out to her car and opens her door, tells her to get home safe.

she kisses him on the cheek. says he's the happiest she's ever seen him.

part one

part three

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Apple Pie

summary: you and hotch spend the first of many christmases together.

pairing: fem!reader x college!aaron hotchner

contents: explicit language, best friends to lovers, mention of a deceased parent, internal angst/sadness, food mention, fluff, kissing

wc: 1,756

A/N: me writing a hotch fic? more likely than you think! merry christmas to my hotchgirls (and everyone else of course) who celebrates ❤️

cm masterlist

He doesn’t understand why he misses it. There was never anything special about his home on Christmas. No expected pile of presents under the tiny tree that was always falling apart– is probably falling apart in his mother’s living room right now. No extended family gathering together around a table. No Sunday mass, or other family tradition.

His father was never there and for that he was grateful. The haul was always modest, a few present for him, a few for Sean. Sometimes there would be a can of cinnamon rolls popped open, filling the house with spiced warmth, eaten with chocolate milk. Other times he would just scavenge, always making sure to share whatever he found with Sean. Oatmeal or some cereal with raisins in it, sprinkled with sugar.

It was never much but it was home. It was Hotchner Christmas.

He makes the decision early to not go home. There’s nothing there for him— Sean is in juvie, his mom is working herself to the bone to keep up with bills. His father is dead. So he stays on campus.

And for once in his life, Aaron feels lucky because you stay in town too.

“Why aren’t you going home again?” He asks a couple days before the break starts. The two of you are sitting on the couch in your apartment after dinner, one of the classic Christmas claymations playing on the tv.

You shrug, taking a sip from the warm mug of hot chocolate in your hands, “Christmas is their anniversary, they’re taking a trip and we’ll do all the family stuff when they get back.”

He hums in response, turning his eyes back to the screen though his mind drifts elsewhere.

Aaron can’t think about how different your experiences with the holiday are. How much love filled your home when the season rolled around. Jealousy would bubble up inside of him if he didn’t care for you so much. You’ve become the most important person on the planet to him in the short time that you’ve known one another and he only wishes good things for you.

As if you can hear his thoughts you lean your head on his shoulder and ask, “What’s Christmas like at your house?”

“Even when my father was alive he wouldn’t be there…he was off…doesn’t matter. My mom tried. She did the best that she could with what we had, what my father gave her,” His voice is somber, and you can’t tell if its because he misses it or never wants it to happen again.

Regardless you nod, deciding to leave any of the other questions that popped up in your head from that description alone to fade away. Aaron always has this melancholy that surrounds him and you’d never want to contribute to it. In fact, you do everything you can to always make him smile, an expression that is almost reserved just for you.

“Since we’re both staying here, what do you think about me coming over for Christmas?”

“What could we possibly do in my miniscule dorm room for Christmas?”

“Alright, then you come over to mine,” You suggest easily.

—

He’s standing in the parking lot of your apartment building near his car like a nervous idiot and he’s not quite sure why. That’s not entirely true, any time he’s alone with you he’s nervous because you’re…well you’re you. Bright and sweet, always reminding him that there are things and people worth enduring this life for. But, this is different– you don’t share Christmas with anyone, especially not you. With how you’ve talked about your Christmas traditions, this is a big deal.

You’re sharing a piece of your home with him, something he’d never do because his home for as long as he can remember has been broken.

When you open the door, you’re in Christmas in pajamas, green with a Christmas lights pattern all over it just like the tree. He couldn’t keep a straight face if he tried, not with the way your eyes light up when they drop to the plain green sweater he has on.

“You’re here and you’re festive!”

He looks down at the sweater skeptically, “I tried.”

“It’s perfect,” You insist, pulling him inside.

Your apartment is cozy— all the main lights are off because you’ve covered the space in soft white Christmas lights. There’s Christmas music playing low in the background, a tree much too large for the space nestled in the corner of the living room. There are trinkets and knick knacks everywhere. Christmas has effectively exploded in your apartment.

He raises an eyebrow at you as he sheds his coat, “You’ve gone all out I see.”

“It’s your first Christmas away from home, it should be special.”

“Trust me, I didn’t expect all of this,” He gestures around loosely.

“Well, its the first Christmas that we’ve ever spent together. So it’s extra special. C’mon.”

You grab his hand leading him into the kitchen and his heart jumps in his chest. The warmth of your hand is gone quickly as you reach for two martini glasses rimmed with sugar and filled with a deep burgundy liquid. That smile is still on your face as you hold them up near your cheeks, looking proud of yourself.

“What’s this?”

“A cranberry spritz.” You hold it out to him and when he eyes it cautiously you add, “Non-alcoholic just how you like. I also have eggnog if you’d prefer it.”

That furrow between his eyebrows smooths out, a small smile on his lips as he takes it, “This is good, thanks.”

Your returning smile is bright as always as you gesture to the stool at the island, “Sit, dinner’s almost ready.”

Dinner is intricate by his standards; a roast chicken with a sauce that’s light and garlicky, mashed potatoes, and a mixed vegetable dish that he could easily eat every day for the rest of life. Ignoring his protests and grumbles, you plate dinner not only for yourself and him, turning on The Grinch before sliding into the island stool next to him.

“Didn’t know you could cook this well, you’ve been feeding us grilled cheeses all semester.”

“Cooking like this is expensive, Aaron,” You remind him teasingly.

“I know, I appreciate it— really, you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Should we take a shot of eggnog every time you say something like that tonight?”

He gives you a scolding look that makes you giggle. You stand, bumping his shoulder playfully and he tries to join you, reaching for his plate but you quickly snatch it, hand coming down on his shoulder.

“Stay put, I’ll take that. There’s dessert too.”

“Dessert?”

“You expected Christmas dinner without dessert? What’s next, you don’t think I got you anything?”

“I knew you’d be stubborn and not listen so I didn’t waste my breath.”

“Good,” You say with a smile on your face, happy that he’ll accept the gifts you got him, but also because it feels good to be known by him.

With your hands tucked safely into bright red oven mitts, you retrieve the apple pie from the oven, steam escaping from the intricate design you carved into the crust.

Aaron blinks, something soft stirring deep in his chest, “Apple pie.”

“It’s your favorite,” You simply, not noticing the way his voice changes as you continue to examine the pie.

“You know you didn’t have to do all this for me.”

“We’re at two shots of eggnog now. Who said I did it just for you?” You tease softly, before turning towards him, your expression growing serious. “You deserve it, Aaron. Thorough holidays, your favorite dessert, every reason to smile. You deserve it all.”

That feeling that’s been sitting in his chest, bubbling softly turns into a rolling boil, one he can no longer ignore. He reaches for your hand and pulls you close, a soft sound of surprise leaving you as he presses his lips to yours. You melt immediately, clutching at his shoulders as he licks into your mouth. While the kiss is overall gentle, there’s an undercurrent of hunger that’s obvious in the strength of his grip and insistence of his tongue. I’m the desperate whimper that slips from his throat and echoes into yours. He breaks the kiss eventually, resting his forehead against your own as your breaths mingle.

“The mistletoe is actually over there,” You whisper against his lips stupidly.

He looks at you with disbelief, mouth agape before determination materializes in his eyes. Moving you both to the mistletoe, he kisses you again, this time it’s softer and less heated.

“Better?”

“Honestly, I think I liked the one over there a—“

He cuts you off with another kiss, cupping your face in his hands. He kisses you. Kisses you and kisses you and kisses you, like it’s his job. Like it’s his dying wish and the grim reaper has come for you.

“As much as I love losing air in the name of sucking face, the pie’s gonna get cold and I made it just for you,” You mumble, running your hands up and down his chest.

“Don’t call it sucking face,” He grumbles, cheeks going pink as he lets you go.

You move towards your baked masterpiece, inhaling its sweet, cinnamon-y scent. “Snogging?”

He gives you an exasperated look, but you can see the way his lips twitch, the fondness in his gaze as he moves towards you.

“Kiss-a-rama? Lip Olympics? Lip-lock-a-doodle?” You muse, cutting a piece of pie for him and sliding him the plate.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And all yours,” You murmur with a smug smile, cutting a piece of pie for yourself.

Aaron’s flush deepens as he takes his place at the counter again. When you join him, he pulls your stool closer to his, wrapping his arm around you as the two of you eat and talk and kiss. The warm domesticity and soft excitement in the air has him feeling like this could be home. You could be home. A tradition he could look forward to.

Further into the night, the two of you are curled up on your couch as always— yet another Christmas movie playing— instead this time you’re firmly planted in Aaron’s lap with his arms wrapped tightly around you.

“Aaron?”

“Hmm?” He hums, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Let’s spend every Christmas together,” You suggest, as if you’d been reading his mind earlier.

He grins, raising his hand to your chin to pull you into a gentle kiss. “Yeah, let’s.”

cm taglist: @ssamorganhotchner, @hotchsdoormat, @lefthandedhotch, @heliotropehotch, @zetasaturno99, @ssa-montgomery, @moonshine-evelyn, @emlynblack, @wheelsupkels, @jaspxr, @gspenc, @sadgirlml, @hotchs-bitch, @wilbur-rabbit, @hotched, @greg-montgomery, @reidselle, @fightingdragonswithwho , @rousethemouse, @eternal-silvertongued-prince, @lesbianhotch

[daisymintt]

Merlin Fic Prompts

Arthur gets separated and injured while on patrol and is taken in by the kind forest Druid Merlin who nurses Arthur back to health. During this time Arthur sees a side of magic he’s never been exposed to before and questions everything he’s been taught.

A series of letters Merlin’s writes to his mom telling her about his adventures in Camelot

Winter Soldier AU where Morgana discovers Merlin had magic but doesn’t know he’s Emrys. Uses the Fomarrah on him and instead of killing Arthur orders him to swear undying loyalty to her, to do anything she asks. Merlin essentially becomes like her Winter Soldier and wrecks havoc on villages. When Arthur hears about a dangerous sorcerer named Myrddin attacking villages he goes to investigates, still depressed about the lose of Merlin, and is shocked to discover that it Myrddin is Merlin except Merlin doesn’t remember him or anything before the fomarrah was implanted. Arthur now has a new goal of getting his best friend back and break Morgana’s hold on him.

The Purple Tunic. Merlin’s birthday comes and goes with no celebration, Gaius being overrun with patients and Merlin stuck with an impossibly long list of chores from Arthur. When Arthur learns that Merlin’s birthday had passed he feels bad and leaves the purple tunic for him in his room as a gift.

Arthur kills a Druid women and as she lays dying she roughly grabs his arm and curses him to experience suffer any wound he deals. Arthur struggles with his self worth now that he can’t protect his people as a knight without hurting himself

Arthur and Merlin get cursed so that whenever one gets hurt the other suffers the same wound (like Barbara and Strickler from Trollhunters)

Merthur WandaVision AU

S3 E12 AU where Merlin does actually fight Gwaine and Arthur is the one that has to be physically held back

Seeing Double. Merlin has always had a lot of work what with helping Gaius, being Arthur’s manservant, and saving everyone’s lives in a near daily basis. One day he is so busy he tries a new spell that’s suppose to create a double of you that lasts for 24 hours. Arthur thinks he’s going mad because he keeps seeing double of Merlin.

Mama’s Boy. Hunith is taken prisoner by some bandits and that sets Merlin on a warpath to get her back with Arthur at his side.

Merlin gets captured by a dark sorcerer who knows he’s Emrys and has him chained up in cold iron. While he’s imprisoned the sorcerer bloodlets him, planning to sell the blood of Emrys on the black market keep Merlin alive enough not to fight back.

Arthur falls and hurts his arm. Merlin examines it and diagnoses it, “You’ve fractured your ulna.” Gwaine perks up at this, “Ulna? I think I dated an Ulna once.”

While picking herbs for Gaius Merlin finds an injured and orphaned fox kit and brings it back with him. One day it gets out of his room and chaos ensues. He nearly catches it in Arthur’s room when Arthur returns and he tries to play it cool.

AU where as Freya lay dying in Merlin’s arms they get married, using blades of grass as their rings. The knights don’t notice at first but eventually one of them asks about it and Merlin gets all sad.

Merlin wakes in the middle of the night to someone breaking into Gaius’s chambers, covered in blood

A servant of two masters AU where instead of sending Merlin in to assassinate Arthur she makes a sting bulb of Merlin and sends it in. A day after it gets sent away Merlin breaks out of Morgana’s and races to save Arthur. Stabs a sword through his clone’s stomach. When it dies it turns into a pile of humus. Arthur starts to get suspicious of Plant!Merlin when he stops eating and he swears he saw Merlin stick his finger in water and drink it. Plant!Merlin also gets weak after long period’s without sunlight and ‘wilts’. Gwiane refuses to give up on his search for Merlin and sets out on his own. Finds Merlin in Morgana’s hovel and together they escape back to Camelot.

Modern Day Merlin, Merlin starts suffering from symptoms of Mahd Wy'ry which affects and causes him to have psychotic episodes at random, due to the weight of his memories. Leon finds him during one of these episodes.

That scene from Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron where Merlin holds an injured Arthur on the banks of a river when the bad guys find them and tear them apart despite their pleas. The knights find Arthur and once he’s stronger they set out to save Merlin.

Merlin and Arthur argue that the other wouldn’t last a day in the others shoes so Arthur comes up with the idea of ‘swapping places’ while they are visiting another kingdom that has never met Arthur before. The knights are in on it. They swap clothes and for a week Merlin is Arthur and Arthur is Merlin.

When kids start disappearing in the middle of the night Merlin sets out to investigate and is nearly killed

Morgana visits Gaius because she feels nauseous and while she’s there she throws up on her dress. Merlin lets her borrow some of his clothes and Arthur walks in sees her and thinks they’re courting. Arthur gets jealous.

That scene from Disneys Robin Hood where they dress as fortune tellers but it’s Merlin and Arthur and they do it in order to get into a bandits keep without arousing suspicion and getting something of importance they stole (Arthurs mothers sigil? His mothers ring?)

Merlin has parasomnia and often wanders the castle at night, often to Arthurs room

Merlin opens a haven for magical creatures/beings/people. Arthur wanders into and is nearly drowned by a naiad but Merlin saves him

Merlin Tarzan AU with a hint of Valka from HTTYD2. Balinor refuses to help Uther trap the last dragon and instead frees it. He takes shelter in Ealdor where he falls in love and has a child with Hunith. One day Uther finds them and, finding themselves cornered with no chance of escape, Balinor calls upon Kilgarrah. Balinor is killed and Hunith is taken prisoner to be used as bait for Merlin someday. Kilgarrah takes baby Merlin to a safe haven for dragons where he is raised by dragons. Many years later Merlin heard about the legend of the dragon egg and sets out to find it. During this journey he meets Prince/King Arthur. Although rivals at first they soon realize they have the same goal, return magic and dragons to Camelot.

Dragonlord side effects. The days following the activation of his Dragonlord powers Merlin starts to experience some side effects. Each chapter is a different side effect.

After Arthur becomes king he reinstates the holiday Saturnalia. Merlin gets elected the “Mock King” giving him a free pass to cause as much mischief and mayhem as he would like

[siena-sevenwits]

Goodness of the Day:

Went to the big city for a second day in a row because while he was in the area, Brother Two wanted to go to the dear parish we used to drive out to every week before gas and the carbon tax made it unfeasible. My dad went here in town, but my mom and the guys and I all piled into the van again and had a stunning drive along the highway through the wintry fields. The hoarfrost is thick and glistening atop the snow, and honestly Pinterest could never.

I was sitting in the front pew, directly in front of the Advent Wreath, and of course all four candles were lit, including the one that has been burning at every Mass since December 1st. It had wasted away to practically nothing, and during the Gospel it got altogether too low and the wreath (artificial) caught fire - just a tiny bit. So I leaned forward and blew it out. It was not as subtle as I could have hoped, because the wreath and I were close-ish to the ambo, so everyone was looking that direction anyway, and also the amount of smoke that went up when I blew it out was way more than I expected. Partway through the homily an altar boy showed up to replace the candle with a longer one, so I didn't accidentally set us back one week of Advent. Thank you, altar boy. I am grateful you saved me from too bad of an interference with this time stream we're all in. the whole thing was funny to me.

Really wanted to confess before Christmas, thought I wouldn't have the chance, and unexpectedly did! Very glad.

Bullied my mom into letting me buy lunch for her and another lunch to bring back for my dad. She never wants to let me get away with treating them, so it was a win.

Christmas pudding work was accomplished. More tomorrow. It's a whole process. The fruit is soaking in French brandy overnight. Sounds fancy, but I went for the cheapest I could get that was still a high enough proof that I can also use it to flame the pudding when I serve it. It's not worth making if I don't get to feel like Mrs. Cratchit when I bring it out.

Listened to some short talks by Father Mike Schmitz.

We had the first session of the Saltmarsh Christmas Special! A giant boar attacked a caravan on the road in a snowy forest, and heroics happened. The great beast was dealt with and is being brought back to town for somebody's solstice celebration feast. The villain has quietly made her appearance, and I got way too indulgent about letting certain characters cameo as children (It takes place nine years before our current storyline.) My brothers allowed it. :-)

[ivystoryweaver]

Moon Boys Celebrate Your Birthday HC's

Based on this ask by @soulsforsales: How do you think the moon boys would treat you on your birthday???

Oh my goodness 🎂🎈🎉 Ok.

*angst warning, but mostly fluff

MARC

Birthdays are hard for Marc. So, so hard. They were when he felt most alone, forgotten and unseen.

It’s when he missed Randall so much he felt physically sick.

It’s when his mom refused to acknowledge her living son.

It’s when his dad made a feasible effort but ended up defending his abuser anyway.

So they’re difficult for Marc. But it’s your birthday. It’s you. And you would never.

Marc is going to overcompensate.

He had half-assed Home birthdays with no friends and a homemade cake. Those can be great if done well, but you’re worth more.

He’s going to make a reservation at an impressive restaurant the night before your birthday. It will be unique, intimate, romantic. Candlelight, soft music, delicious food and drinks.

You will have his undivided attention and be his only priority.

The fact that you are in the world is something he cherishes.

Intense eye contact will melt you into a puddle. He’ll keep reaching across the table for your hand.

He’ll pull out your chair and guide you along with his hand on the small of your back. Everyone will know you are his and this is a special day for you.

You barely make it out of the restaurant, just a touch blissfully tipsy, when his lips crash into yours

JAKE

^idk why I keep seeing this Drive guy as Jake lol

Jake will be celebrating, probably on the weekend closest to your birthday, maybe the night after.

There will be singing, in more than one language.

There will probably be dancing even if it’s just a quick couple of Salsa steps around the kitchen.

He cooks for you, making a huge mess. But it's yummy.

He wants you to smile and laugh. He wants to make you feel as amazing as you always make him feel.

He tried to decorate your cake, but it's hilariously bizarre. The two of you try to fix it and get into a frosting war.

It gets on the tip of your nose and cheek. Jake swipes it away and submits his thumb to your lips for cleaning.

You hold his gaze, dragging your tongue across the pad of his thumb before sucking it into your mouth.

Then you get the rest of your birthday present. For the rest of the night.

STEVEN

Steven doesn’t quite remember a lot of birthdays - not childhood ones anyway.

Memories are either absent, confusing, or completely a false shadow of what really happened to them.

He has to sort out his feelings about birthdays.

But again, this isn’t his birthday, it’s yours.

He’s waiting for you when you wake up. “Happy birthday, love.” He wants you to know right away that he’s remembered.

He gazes into your eyes and traces your lips with his fingertips.

"Steven," you whisper as he brushes his lips over yours.

You're late to work because of him.

He's done little things for you: your lunch is prepared, your favorite tea or coffee is in your favorite mug.

Your favorite sweater is clean and warmed in the dryer. He wraps you up in it before you leave.

When you get to work, there are flowers delivered, with a card. He is a classic romantic after all.

When you arrive home, he is positively giddy. He’s planned a scavenger hunt for you. It’s full of mischief and riddles.

You follow the clues, watching Steven's gorgeous brown eyes sparkle with excitement as his soft voice lovingly encourages you from clue to clue.

You finally get to the end and discover your present. Steven's taking you away on a trip.

Of course Marc and Jake will show up too.

The boys end up saying "Happy Birthweek" after a couple years of this. You’re worth a lot of celebrating.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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