#happy easter everyone (if you celebrate) or happy sunday

[bronzebluemind]

It’s been 1 week since the World Cup finale, 11 weeks to go until sgp and 33 or 34 weeks to go until next season.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Happy Easter: Dysfuctional Family

Charlie: (blowing a kazoo through the hotel while wearing white bunny ears and tail, carrying an Easter basket, and throwing bright colored and decorated eggs everywhere)

HAPPY EASTER, EVERYONE!!!

Hazbins: (groan collectively)

Vaggie: (slightly distracted by the tail) Hun, love the enthusiasm, but do you even know the purpose of Easter Sunday is?

Charlie: (cracks open a Cadbury egg and siphons out the innards with her tongue) Isn't it just an excuse to binge on chocolate and snuggle fluffy little bunnies and ducklings?

Angel: (clutches his pearls in ex-Catholic Italian horror) Mama Mia!

Lucifer: *Squeeeeee!* I'll be right back!

Vaggie: I guess that's a more corporate way to put it.

Angel: That's IT!!! I'm making my Mama's Italian Easter Bread! Charlie, you need to be schooled on Easter!

Alastor: Hmmm... I suppose if we're doing a full celebration, I can do a little something to liven things up. (Snaps his fingers, and everyone's clothes are transformed into various colored Bunny footie pajamas)

Charlie: (wearing hot pink bunny jammies and twirls) Oooooh! These are so cuuuute!

Vaggie: (in pastel lavender pajamas and snarling) Cabron!

Angel: (sneaky smirk as he wears a pastel pink and white two-piece pajama suit) Oh, Smiiiiiiles?

Alastor: (simply wearing red bunny ears) No.

Angel: C'mon! Hear me out! (Whispers in Alastor's ear)

Alastor: Hmmmmm.... I'll allow it! (Snaps his fingers again)

Vaggie: (baggy bunny jammies suddenly transform into a black and velvet purple, Las Vegas Showgirl bunny suit with white tail and ears, fishnets, and heels with purple wrist cuffs)

Angel: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! LOOKING GOOD, VAGS!!!!

Vaggie: (growls and tries to cover herself) FUCKING-A, ANGEL!!! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU TELL HIM?!?!?!

Angel: Does it matter? I don't have a soul to sell. (Sees Charlie) Ha! Might wanna focus on your girlfriend, Toots.

Vaggie: What? (Looks at Charlie)

Charlie: (blushing, heart eyes, panting like a puppy, and her pajamas turned into a similar Showgirl suit but red with fox ears and tail)

Vaggie: Ch-Charlie? Charlie! No. No! Charlotte Morningstar, we are in front of guests! Shit! (Runs down the hallway)

Charlie: (hearts explode around her head) Hippity-Hoppity, that ass is my property! (Gives chase)

...........

Vaggie: (rounds back around the corner while carrying Charlie bridal style) Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Lucifer: (rides in on a tidal wave of fluff infused rubber duckies while wearing yellow ducky footie pajamas with orange webbed feet) RELEASE THE QUACKEN!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Alastor: (sighs in aroace exhaustion as a random rubber duck bounces off his head)

Angel: (slowly calming down as he wipes a tear from his eye) It's just like home~

[hello-vampire-kitty]

Hello everyone! I hope you enjoy the chapter that was posted. I've been quite busy for the past month with household stuff;; Oh yeah, I have some new family members and they are adorable :) I had pregnant cats that gave birth a few weeks apart :D I hope everyone is having a nice day and if there are some you who celebrate Easter this Sunday like I do, I wish you a happy Easter!

[tellmeallaboutit]

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 13, In Which Your Father Hangs Himself

AO3

MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter deals with suicide and this is NOT the last time this work will feature suicide in graphic detail. Other warnings include: prostitution, sexual aggression / assault, xenophobia, toxic relationships.  

This is chapter from Raul's POV. This got too large for Tumblr so I will only leave the first scene here.

****

"Tell them to go to hell," your father said.

He wasn't even looking at you - he was looking at the fireplace, slumped in his chair, his hand rubbing Bella - his favourite cane corso, a beast of a dog, who lay at his feet with her heavy belly full of pups. She bared her teeth at you when you tried to approach, so you kept your distance. 

"Papa, I obviously cannot do that," you said.

He was in one of his moods, you could see that. 

One of those days he thought he had the holy right to make other people’s day hell. 

"Why not?"

You drew in a sharp breath before answering, "Because today is your eightieth birthday. Because everyone's here to celebrate. The house is more crowded than St Peter’s on Easter Sunday. Because the Prime Minister herself has just..."

He cut you off mid-sentence with a raised hand. "I'm not in the mood for a party. You deal with it, Raul".

Two months of preparation, in which you had to get personally involved because of the announcement he was hinting at. A public announcement he should damn well should make, because he clearly couldn't run Avernus anymore.

"Are you deliberately embarrassing me in front of all these people?" you said. 

"You're embarrassing yourself in front of these people, Raul”, he answered and made a grating initiation of somebody else’ voice, because you surely don’t sound like that. “Oh no, what if they don't like me, what if they think less of me, oh no, oh no. You always worried too much about what people thought of you. They should worry about what you think of them, if you ever wish to amount to anything”.

Merda! You should have known better than to return to Napoli for this farce.

"Ah, forget it. No matter what I do, you will find something to criticise."

Finally, your father looked at you. You took after him in appearance, or so they said; you barely remembered your mother anyway to cross-check. That’s what another thirty years will do to you; grey out your black hair, bloat your jawline, steal your muscles and mark your face with age spots.

There was not so much time left. For him, even less.

God willing.

"No matter what you do? You do nothing," he stated, a look of genuine surprise on his face. "What exactly do you do?"

Don’t answer. Don’t… you… bloody…

"I run an international law firm!”, you exploded. “I employ thirty thousand people worldwide... and I built it from scratch! I own estates EVERYWHERE! PRIVATE JETS! ALL WITHOUT YOUR HELP!" 

He scoffed and looked back at the flames. That was a special talent of his; reducing you to a raging mess while he remained an epitome of calmness.

"He has private jets, look at him. Without my help you'd be making pizzas for tourists, Raul."

This was pointless. It had always been pointless.

What had you ever hoped for? Did you truly think there would be something to make this man proud or happy?

"What did you expect from me?”, you asked. “What was I supposed to achieve to make you proud?!"

"Something that matters", your father shrugged. 

"And what's that supposed to mean? WHAT MATTERS TO YOU?"

"Legacy matters" he said, patting Bella's head. "Isn't that right, Bella? My sweet girl gives me at least five quality cubs every year. Did you know her last litter won Italy’s top prize? That's a good girl.” Then he turned his gaze back to you. "Not like those scrawny things you've been chasing since school. All this whoring, all this sin, and not even a single bastard to show for it".

Bella stuck her tongue out and panted, looking up at your father with sheer devotion. For a fleeting moment, you thought of putting a bullet in his head, and then in hers.

"You can't be serious. You know very well how hard I tried..."

"Obviously not hard enough," he said. "Here I am at eighty, and what legacy do I leave? For whom? Generations before you had given everything, sacrificed everything, everything, and for whom, for whose future? Who will inherit this country? The Muslims?"

He spat on the floor.

"I'll tell you who will inherit my fortune," he continued. "The Church. At least they have the decency to remember who we once were. What we fought for. What we dreamed of building. A nation of pride and ambition and honour. But you, Raul? You fled your home to where the money was and sold your soul to the golden calf”. 

What? No way. Not to the Church. The old man is getting dementia, he is incoherent. That's it, that's what's happening: your father is going senile.

"That's enough," you finally manage to say through clenched teeth. "I'm not going to stand here and listen to this madness any longer. I have too much dignity for that."

“You wouldn’t know dignity if it hit you in the face,” he said. "Maybe my mistake was loving you too much. Spoiling you rotten. Poor boy, he lost his mother so early."

You bristled at his words, but refused to let him have the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you turned on your heel to leave, only to collide with that damned bronze monstrosity.

That thing - the statue that haunted your childhood nightmares; always guarding the door, ensuring no one dared disturb the man who loathed disturbances - Mephistopheles as depicted by Jacques Louis Gautier.

"I swear to God," you seethed. "That damned statue... I've hated it my whole life. The minute you're in the ground, I'm smashing it into dust."

"It serves its purpose," he replied coolly. "Reminding me of my failures when your presence is not enough”.

You paused at the door, deciding that today was the last day you would ever try for him. 

Avernus Capital wasn't worth it. 

Nothing was worth it.

"You know what, Papa?" You asked, struggling to keep your voice as calm and composed as you father’s, "I hope it's your last birthday."

You were hoping for a reaction. But just like always, he failed to deliver what you hoped for. 

He offered none; even the shrug he gave was half-hearted. Bella fell asleep despite all the commotion; her head resting on your father’s shoe.

"Keep hoping," he said. "I plan on living until I'm a hundred and fifty, and then some."

[use-your-telescope]

Together by this Christmas Tree

Summary: The Avengers have an annual tradition of a Secret Santa Gift Exchange, and Theo’s life becomes a real life Hallmark Movie when she draws Loki’s name and has to get him five days of gifts. Because shopping for a god and a prince, especially one that you have a massive crush on, is easy, right?!

Author's Notes: HELLO AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS! This is a one-shot set in the WEMTBB world with our favorite sorcerers, however you do not need to be caught up on (or even have started) WEMTBB in order to enjoy this story! For those of you who are reading WEMTBB, this takes place in the future, when these two are in their “mutual pining idiots” stage; you will absolutely spot some easter eggs, but there are no major spoilers here.

This is for @sarahscribbles Christmas Collection, because I’m strolling in five minutes late with Starbucks for Christmas by posting this the day after Christmas. If you're a regular reader of WEMTBB, I am still planning to update it on Sunday (12/31).

Content: Absolute tooth-rotting fluff, Secret Santa, LOADS of mutual pining, Wanda being a very supportive friend, some pranks along the way, Loki in multiple sweaters, and lots of Loki getting the love, kindness, and attention he deserves.

Word Count: 8,104

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

—

When Steve first made the announcement, at the end of a mission debrief, Theo swore he was joking.

The idea of the Avengers making a point to celebrate Christmas seemed a bit strange - beyond the fact that there were two Norse Gods on the team, it seemed presumptuous to assume everyone else was Christian. 

Theo’s feelings about the winter holidays were, at best, ambivalent. Sure, she liked the holiday lights, and she was a sucker for a good holiday song. She enjoyed showering her niece, Katie, with presents - after all, what kind of auntie would Theo be if she didn’t absolutely spoil her niece? And any time Theo could visit Mémère for longer than an hour or two was a blessing in its own right.

But the holidays also reminded her of the family she lost, and being the single friend at every holiday party got tiring (especially when her well-intended friends kept trying to set Theo up with people that Theo had absolutely no interest in). It had reached a point that Theo often volunteered to work the holiday shifts, as chaotic as they were, just so she had the excuse to avoid awkward gatherings.

However, when the other Avengers lit up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree at the announcement of the Secret Santa gift exchange, Theo kept her mouth shut. She was still relatively new to the team, and it wasn’t the first time she had been subjected to workplace celebrations for holidays she didn’t celebrate. 

But of course, this was a group of superheroes celebrating, so it wasn’t a basic Secret Santa; no, of course not, because nothing about them was basic. It was five days of secret Santa. 

At least the rules were simple: each person drew the name of another Avenger. Then, you had to give the person whose name you drew a series of gifts with clues about your identity leading up to the final day, when you would give them a gift and a final clue. Then, each person would try to guess who their Secret Santa was. Regardless of whether or not they figured it out, each person would receive one final gift, something a bit more special.

Steve closed the announcement by informing the group they would draw names the following Monday, and would have approximately a month to pick out gifts before they completed the exchange. A certain buzz filled the air as everyone left the conference room, with some reminiscing about funny moments from past exchanges, while others pondered over who they might end up with.

It wasn’t until after the meeting that Theo had the foresight to ask if the Secret Santa exchange was meant to replace getting everyone their own gifts, or if it was in addition to getting everyone their own gifts. Wanda, ever the MVP when it came to explaining unwritten Avengers’ rules to Theo, explained that it was in addition to getting everyone else gifts. 

Theo spent the next two days praying she would get someone easy to shop for - after all, she already had to get gifts for a dozen Avengers, plus her hospital colleagues, and her family. She wasn’t sure that she had enough mental capacity to figure out gifts for someone she wasn’t as familiar with.

Of course, some deity had it out for her, because she drew Loki’s name.

Loki, the prince and ‘most powerful sorcerer in the nine realms,’ who could buy or conjure pretty much anything he wanted in the snap of his fingers.

Loki, who, besides being Theo’s best friend among the Avengers, happened to be the person Theo had a massive fucking crush on.

It wasn’t like anything would ever come of the crush - Loki had a firm rule that he did not date. He had no interest in relationships whatsoever. It was a tidbit of information Theo learned early on in her tenure as an Avenger, amidst a conversation about the love lives of the Avengers as a whole. Loki would spend one night with someone, but never allow it to become an ongoing thing - in his words, “everyone has certain needs to satiate, but courting someone is no interest of mine.” 

So, despite Theo’s unbidden thoughts of channeling her inner hallmark movie to reveal her feelings to Loki, she needed to figure out how the hell to navigate getting him Secret Santa gifts, a normal gift… oh yeah, and his birthday gift, because that was a week before Christmas.

Inevitably, once they finished drawing names, Theo immediately dragged Wanda down the hall by the sleeve of her red hoodie and into Wanda’s suite, since it was closer than Theo’s.

“What’s going on?” Wanda half-laughed as she closed the door and glanced, worriedly, at Theo, who had started to pace the room. “Are you okay?”

“I need your help with Secret Santa — What the hell do you get someone who could have anything they want for Christmas?” Theo flopped on Wanda’s bed with a dramatic sigh, her mind reeling with how to handle her predicament.

“That depends –” Wanda answered slowly, eyes narrowed as she approached Theo. “Why do you think they have everything?” 

“Because he’s a prince and a God who can conjure anything he damn well pleases with the snap of his fingers!” Theo tossed her arms up in the air, gesturing exasperatingly at nothing. 

Nothing - just like the ideas she had for Loki’s gifts. 

Nothing.

“So you have Loki for your Secret Santa?” Wanda sat down beside Theo, smirking at her.

“Yes!” Theo buried her face with her hands. “I had a hard enough time figuring out a birthday present, and I still haven’t figured out what to get him for a normal Christmas gift! But now I also have to give him a Secret Santa gift?!”

“Gifts, plural.” Wanda reminded her, smirk widening into a rather evil-looking grin. “Remember, it’s a week of lead-up to the final gift, because the goal is to try and have them guess who it is.”

“FUCK.” Theo let her arms drop to her sides. “This isn’t fair—“ she whined, earning a poorly stifled laugh from Wanda. 

“Oh come on, it’s not like he’s the only one who is hard to shop for,” Wanda attempted to sympathize, but the giggles that slipped out as she replied did little to help. “Can you imagine having to buy gifts for Tony?”

“Simple, get him booze.” Theo scoffed, propping herself up on her elbows. 

Wanda rolled her eyes and adjusted her ponytail, one auburn lock falling aside to frame her face.

“Look, half the fun is writing the little cards that go with each gift to give the person clues about who the gifts are from, and then trying to figure out the identity of your Secret Santa,” Wanda pointed out. “Besides, other than Thor, I’m willing to bet that no one knows Loki as well as you do!”

“That only makes it worse,” Theo complained and flopped back a second time, rolling over to bury her face in Wanda’s burgundy comforter. “Because I know he’s a picky bitch and nothing will be good enough for him.”

The snort that came out of Wanda did nothing to ease Theo’s concern, but it sounded ridiculous enough that even Theo laughed. 

“I think that he’d like any gift you give him, simply because it’s from you.” 

“That’s cliché as hell.” Theo pressed herself up enough to look over at Wanda, who, despite Theo’s whining and dramatics, still wore a small, knowing smile.

“And true.” Wanda shrugged. “You are, without a doubt, his favorite person on the team, and probably on this planet.”

“Yeah, for all the good that does me.” Theo grumbled to herself, but sat up all the way. “It’s not like I can tell him on day one that I’m his Secret Santa, so the gifts have to be good. No, they have to be perfect.”

“You’re overthinking this.” Wanda chuckled softly, then rose to her feet and held out a hand for Theo to grab onto. “How about we go shopping and see what is out there? Maybe you’ll get some inspiration that way.”

The petulant child within Theo wanted to complain for a bit longer about her predicament, but deep down, Wanda had a good point. If nothing else, it would give her a chance to get out and clear her head before the inevitable descent into holiday madness.

“Right. That’s probably a good idea.” Theo accepted Wanda’s hand and allowed her to pull Theo onto her feet. “I need to get gifts for my family anyways, so maybe i’ll knock it all out at once.” 

“Only if I can help you pick out gifts for Katie,” Wanda winked at Theo as she opened the door. 

“Deal.” Theo didn’t have to think twice before answering. “Do you have plans for this afternoon? I’m not working, so we could go today…”

Wanda held up her purse and grinned. “Let’s go!”

—

Shopping with Wanda, unsurprisingly, proved to be a fruitful venture. 

Sure, the pair went absolutely wild with gifts for Theo’s niece. Would Max kill Theo when he saw just how much stuff Theo got? Absolutely. Did she care? Not a bit; after all, she had to maintain her reputation as the coolest aunt.

More importantly, Theo managed to put together a list of ideas for gifts that referenced inside jokes from the time that Theo and Loki had known each other. Even better - the conversation between Theo and Wanda as they shopped, though wide-ranging and lively, gave Theo the inspiration for her final gift.

In the end, the gifts required some careful planning, calling in some favors, and a lot of sneaking to make it happen - not to mention a few sleepless nights as Theo put the finishing touches on certain details - but she managed to pull everything together, just in time for the first day of gift-giving.

Pepper had really outdone herself with the holiday decorations. On a normal day, the common areas within the tower could be described as minimalist: clean lines, lots of metal and glass, neutral tones everywhere, no knick knacks or soft touches to be found. Not even a throw pillow or blanket could be found in the common areas - whenever Theo wanted a pillow or a blanket, she had to bring it from her suite.

Yet, when everyone filtered into the living room after going out for dinner, they may as well have walked into a luxury ski chalet at Tahoe. In one corner sat a massive, lush evergreen tree trimmed with glistening tinsel, soft white lights, and a collection of beautifully coordinated ornaments in burgundy, cream, gold, navy, emerald, and eggplant. 

The fireplace had a beautiful garland of eucalyptus, cypress, and cedar draped across the mantle; tucked among the greenery sat pillar candles of varying heights in burgundy, navy, emerald, eggplant, and gold. Elegant, cream-colored stockings with each Avenger’s name embroidered at the top hung in front of the crackling fire (plus stockings for Pepper and Happy, since they were pretty much unofficial Avengers). 

Blankets and accent pillows, some in plaids that incorporated the colors of the ornaments and candles, others in solid colors, all made of luxuriously plush fabrics, found homes on the various seating throughout the living room. 

Even the coffee tables had coordinating centerpieces.

Theo quickly found her usual seat, but continued to gawk at the living room’s transformation. When the hell did Pepper (or, Theo supposed, whoever Pepper hired) have the time to decorate the living room? Just that morning, when Theo left for work, the living room had been its usual, minimalist styling. Maybe if she had stopped back in her suite before meeting the others at the restaurant she would have seen the living room decoration in progress.

Hardly a moment later, Loki sat down beside her. Dressed in a forest-green crewneck sweater that perfectly framed the planes of his chest and black dress pants that highlighted his long legs, Loki somehow managed to look holiday appropriate without even trying. His raven curls, just slightly disheveled from the wind and snow outside, framed his elegant features so perfectly; combined with the warm glow of the fire and the soft light of the christmas tree he appeared downright radiant, particularly as he grinned at something Thor said. 

“Quite magnificent, is it not?” Loki leaned over and nudged Theo with his elbow, interrupting her train of thought. Theo had to stop for a moment and consider whether he was referring to the himself, or the living room.

“Yeah,” Theo agreed, her cheeks growing hot as she realized Loki caught her staring. “Compared to when I left this morning, it is a night and day difference.“

“I suspect Miss Potts takes great pleasure in decorating for the winter holidays.” Loki offered Theo a soft smile. His soft eyes caught the flicker of the candles atop the coffee table as he studied Theo, and for the second time in less than a couple minutes, she found herself speechless.

Luckily, Dum-E saved the day when he dropped a present on Theo’s lap, and in doing so brought both sorcerers’ attention to the larger group. As it turned out, Dum-E distributed everyone’s gifts - all wrapped in the same paper, to make sure that the gift wrap didn’t give anything away - and as soon as he finished, it was time to open the first day’s gift.

They started with Bruce, then worked their way through a randomly generated list that Steve put together. The soft lights of the Christmas tree, glow of the fire crackling in the hearth, and joyous laughter as each person read their clue and opened their gifts filled the room with such warmth. It was the kind of holiday scene you’d see on a postcard, especially since snowflakes drifted past the tall windows and into the city below.

As they drew closer to Loki’s turn, Theo’s hands began to sweat. What if he didn’t like her gift? Sure, it was kind of corny, but it was a fun reference to how they spent much of their time. He didn’t seem overly thrilled by the idea of Secret Santa in the first place; what if her silly little gifts only made him hate the game?

Well, she didn’t have to wait any longer to find out, because it finally reached Loki’s turn.

Loki picked up the small box, turning it over and inspecting it. He tossed it into the air and caught it in one hand, lithe fingers curling perfectly around the container. 

“It is quite light, and rather small,” he observed. “Whatever is in this box does not jostle when moved, so it either fills the box or it is carefully packed in place. Let us see what is inside.”

Loki methodically removed the ribbons, then carefully tore away the gift wrap. He removed the lid in a graceful motion and set it aside, all the while peering into the box. He hummed.

Seeing the fabric folded and coiled inside, he reached in and tugged on the cloth, pulling it from the box. The fabric unfolded as he lifted the gift into the air, revealing the first gift: a pair of crew-length socks - black, with an emerald green heel and toe. On one side of each sock, placed so it would be visible while wearing shoes, was the design of an apple car driven by a worm, as well as text which read: “I’m on my way to the bookstore!”

“Aw, those are cute!” Wanda winked at Theo as she said the words, to which Theo casually agreed. 

Loki maintained a relatively neutral expression, though he let out a rather amused hum. He set the socks in his lap, then opened the card. As his eyes scanned over the text, one side of his lips curled up, then the other, until he wore a sheepish smile. He read aloud: 

“I know you love the bookstore,

We’ve been there a time or two,

But since I can’t buy the whole store,

I got you a pair of Crew… socks!

Sorry, I know you like poetry, but your Secret Santa isn’t a poet.” Loki chuckled, shaking his head, then continued: “These socks are from Out of Print, which has donated over 5 million books to communities in need and supports a variety of literacy initiatives.” 

He looked up from the card and glanced around at the group. “Well, thank you to my mysterious Secret Santa. I quite enjoy a whimsical piece of attire, and I am certain these will be put to good use.”

Next to Loki, Theo let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. 

First day was not a failure.

Only… four more to go.

—

The second day of gift-giving arrived, and with it came another day of second-guessing whether or not Loki would like his gift.  

This time, the idea came from a conversation early in their friendship. After falling asleep in Theo’s suite, Loki joined her for coffee on her balcony, at which point Theo explained a sudoku to Loki. At the time, he commented that there were “some puzzles he was still learning to solve.”

From that morning on, Theo couldn’t help but notice the way Loki approached briefings and missions as puzzles to solve. So when Theo found a pair of rather clever puzzle books (many of which provided a formidable challenge, even for her), she knew that it would be a perfect gift.

Yet, as the day crept on and the gift exchange grew near, Theo felt the seeds of doubt taking root once again. What if he thought the puzzles were stupid? He was a god, after all, and insanely intelligent. The puzzles might have been a challenge for Theo, but they were probably child’s play for Loki. 

Still, it was too late to turn back, so by the time Theo sat down with the others and the gifts were distributed, she simply hid her sweaty palms in her sweater sleeves and acted like it was any other night in the tower.

Loki, for what it was worth, seemed perfectly relaxed when he took his usual seat beside Theo; this time, he opted for a plain gray t-shirt and a black cardigan, paired with what were (secretly) Theo’s favorite pair of dark, slim-fit jeans. When Loki crossed one ankle over his knee, Theo noticed his emerald green and black socks and her heart skipped a beat - he wore the socks she gave him.

That was a good sign, right?

Once again, Dum-E distributed the gifts, then each person took their turn opening their gift and reading the card; this time they started with Yelena, but otherwise the order was the same. After what felt like ages, Steve finally gave Loki the go-ahead to open his gift.

Like the first day, Loki went through the same routine of examining the box, then peeled away the wrapping paper. 

For the sake of maintaining a bit of mystery (and making it slightly less obvious that the gift was a pair of books), Theo put the set into a clothing box and padded the sides. It wasn’t that sneaky, since the box was heavier than it would have been with apparel inside, but at least Loki wouldn’t know until he opened the box.

He opened the box and removed the first book. 

“The Master Theorem - Book of Puzzles, Intrigue, and Wit,” he read the title, then held it up for all to see, then held up the second book and read off the title. “The Master Theorem: Elite - Book of Puzzles, Intrigue, and Wit.”

He returned the books to his lap, pausing for a moment to flip through the pages and glance at the contents. 

“You gonna open the card?” Tony nodded towards the card that came with the box, which barely poked out from beneath the pair of books.

“Ah, yes, apologies.” Loki offered a half-smile, then retrieved the card and read aloud:

“While the identity of your Secret Santa is, well, a secret, it’s no secret that you, Loki, are pretty smart - like, ridiculously smart. And you’re a quick learner… Plus you’ve got a knack for problem solving. With that in mind, you seem to be a master when it comes to puzzles; even though you once told me there are still some puzzles you are learning to solve, the way you light up when you encounter a good logic puzzle or mystery makes me think there are few things you enjoy more than a good challenge.

“This series of puzzle books is notorious for its difficult logic puzzles - the New York Times called the first Master Theorem book “Mensa’s evil twin,” and the Elite edition is supposed to be exponentially harder. But with your sharp wit and attention to detail, I’m sure you’ll have it figured out in no time… And by the time you finish, maybe you’ll figure out the identity of your Secret Santa as well!”

Loki grinned as he folded the card and set it aside. “Thank you, my mysterious benefactor - I imagine I will be entertained for quite some time.”

For the rest of the evening, whenever Theo snuck a glance at Loki, she caught him flipping through his new books with a subtle smile and a twinkle in his eye, only half-paying attention to the others as they opened their gifts.

Day two: rousing success. Only three more days to go.

—

For the third day of gift-giving, Theo took a bigger risk.

At one point in Theo and Wanda’s shopping adventure, they stopped at a bakery to grab a snack and some coffee. While they waited for their drinks, they got on the topic of how, earlier that morning, Thor offered Loki a frosted pop-tart. In response, Loki nearly disintegrated the thing on sight, calling it an abomination to pastries everywhere.

And that was from Loki, the guy who was notorious for his sweet tooth. 

The conversation gave Theo an idea.

Ever since Loki roped Theo into his pranks, Theo had wanted to find a way to turn the tables and prank him. And what better way to prank him than to bait-and switch some sweet treats?

With a call to Theo’s favorite Bodega cashier, Carlos (who still hadn’t gotten up the courage to ask out that girl, but had at least he learned her name was Liza), Theo managed to get her hands on one of the big cardboard boxes that they shipped pop-tarts in. Importantly, it said pop-tarts all along the outside, so when Loki saw the box he would initially think it was a whole case of pop-tarts.

Instead of filling it with pop-tarts, Theo convinced Mémère to bake up all sorts of traditional Aneterran holiday treats to fill the box. Given Mémère already planned to make the treats, it was easy for the family matriarch to accommodate the request. However, when Theo explained her plan, a knowing, almost devilish grin spread across Mémère’s face; the next thing Theo knew, there were treats that Theo hadn’t seen since she was a child. 

Packing the treats into the box required quite a bit of attention to detail - it had to have the weight and heft of a case of pop-tarts, and it had to be packed tightly enough to not move around, but she also didn’t want to crush the treats. 

There may have been some enchantments involved to make it work, but hopefully Loki wouldn’t notice.  

Not wanting to make the prank too convincing, Theo made sure to leave clues that the box had been altered somehow; knowing Loki, realizing the box had been tampered with would make him curious enough to look inside.

When everyone gathered for the third night of gift-giving, the laughter and merriment from the first two nights returned almost immediately. But when it came to Loki’s turn to open his gift, Theo’s confidence from the day prior collided with her nerves, to the point that she clutched her mug of spiked hot chocolate so her hands wouldn’t shake. 

Just like the first two nights, Loki inspected the wrapped gift, lifting it up and giving it a gentle shake. “Much larger, and rather heavy,” he noted. “Yet, there’s a card that indicates I ought to open it before the gift. I suppose I ought to follow my Secret Santa’s request.”

He set the gift back in his lap, and quickly opened the card. 

“Heard you have a sweet tooth…” Loki read aloud, then glanced down at the gift and hummed. “Well, let us see what is inside.”

Loki started to tear away the wrapping paper, but paused part-way through; his face twisted into something unreadable when he saw the writing on the box. 

Theo bit her lip to not give herself away.

“Pop-tarts?” Thor exclaimed, cocking his head to the side with curiosity. “Brother, I did not think you to be a fan of the Midgardian pastry.”

“I…” Loki trailed off, face falling as he unwrapped the rest of the box. “Interesting.”

Theo’s heart stuttered in her chest - what if he didn’t think to open the box? Would she give herself away if she said something? Oh god, he looked like a kicked puppy — she should have realized that he might take it wrong because Thor likes pop-tarts and he’s the popular brother, shitshitshit—

“Loki, maybe you should open the box,” Bruce suggested, “There’s a weird wrinkle by the cardboard seam that makes me think it was opened, then closed again.”

If it wouldn’t have given her away, Theo would have leapt to her feet and hugged the man for his suggestion.

“Yeah, that box looks like it has been messed with,” Sam agreed, “and I think everyone knows you hate pop-tarts.”

The kicked-puppy expression softened as Loki took a second look at the box and noticed the obvious tampering that Bruce and Sam pointed out. A hint of pink rose on Loki’s cheeks - if Theo didn’t know better, Loki looked almost embarrassed at the realization - but he went ahead and opened the box. 

Theo held her breath, all of her attention trained on Loki as she waited for his reaction. 

Peering into the box, Loki’s shoulders suddenly dropped and relief flooded his features; he reached in and retrieved a treat similar to a chocolate scone, as well as a second card.

“Pleased to report that I was mistaken; it appears the box is filled with a variety of homemade treats, as well as a second card.” He let out a soft, almost hesitant chuckle as he opened the note and read aloud: 

“HA! Nearly got you, didn’t I?!” Loki laughed a second time, this time a little louder, and nodded his head. “You’ve pulled off some of the best pranks, but your Secret Santa is known for a good prank or two. 

“Jokes aside, did you really think your Secret Santa would do that to you? Of course not - I know you have a discerning taste when it comes to sweet treats (far more discerning than your brother, of course)! These are some of my favorite holiday snacks from growing up; I think you’d like them too. If nothing else, I promise they taste better than pop-tarts.”  

Loki returned the note to the box, then unwrapped the treat in his other hand. He took a bite, and his face almost immediately lit up. He chewed for a moment, then swallowed, and cleared his throat to speak. 

“Well, mysterious Secret Santa,” he said, “I will confirm that this treat is quite divine. However, you best watch yourself– “ Looking around at their teammates, a dark, sinister grin curled over Loki’s face. “– I am known as the Trickster god for a reason, and you may very well have started a war.”

When Loki briefly locked eyes with Theo, her heart skipped a few beats; in just a few moments he went from beautiful to downright devilishly handsome, and his threat should not have been nearly as hot as it was. 

Sweet baby Jesus, she needed to get her shit together. 

“Any guesses on who it is?” Bucky asked, tapping his vibranium fingers along the side of his still-wrapped present. 

“I’ve a few contenders,” Loki smoothly answered, the earlier signs of discomfort completely gone, “but I will wait to put forth any claims.”

“Who cares! The real question is are you gonna share!?” Shuri pointed at the pastry in Loki’s hand, then held out her own hand. “That looks amazing!”

“Maybe once the Secret Santa is revealed, they can bring us all some treats.” Wanda replied, though she gave Theo a pointed glance, to which Theo glared back - after all, she didn’t want Wanda to give her away. “But for now, I think Loki should get to enjoy all of his gifts.”

Loki, who was busy searching through the rest of the box, didn’t seem to notice Wanda staring at Theo. 

Shuri glanced at Wanda, then at Theo, then grinned as she made the connection. 

“Fine, but they better bring me some extras,” Shuri relented. “That thing looks amazing.” 

Theo smiled and rolled her eyes, just in time for Steve to inform Wanda that it was her turn to open her gift.

Day three, though nearly a bust, worked out. 

Only two more to go. 

—

After the scare of the third day, Theo went into the fourth day feeling more comfortable about her gift. Sure, Loki may shrug at it, and there was a chance he wouldn’t use it. But at least she wouldn’t run the risk of upsetting him by making him believe his preferences were the same as his brother’s.

In some ways, the gift seemed particularly timely: a winter storm raged outside the tower, with howling winter winds and heavy snow that made sitting in the living room feel like they were inside a snowglobe. Even with the heat on and the fire roaring in the hearth, everyone bundled up in sweaters and plush blankets, sipping on mugs of cocoa and tea in between opening gifts. 

On the fourth night, Loki’s turn to open his gift came even earlier. Similar to the first three nights, he inspected the box - small, slender, almost like a fancy box for a fountain pen. 

After making quick work of the wrapping paper, he glanced at the lid of the box:

“Museum of Modern Art Design Store,” he read, then shrugged and removed the lid of the box.

Nestled among chic black packing material sat a stainless steel tea infuser. Its design was what drew Theo to the gift - long, slender, with a hook on the top for easy removal, it looked downright elegant. And with the amount of tea Loki drank, an upgrade to his usual steeping methods seemed like the perfect sort of gift - thoughtful and useful.

Loki hummed, carefully slipping the tea infuser out of its packaging and inspecting it. The stainless steel glowed beneath the Christmas lights and reflected the smile curling over Loki’s face. He twisted the cap off, then closed it again, nodding to himself as he set it aside and opened the card. Like the first three days, he read the message to the group:

“A tea infuser that combines form and function?! It’s almost as stylish as you are (almost)! As the resident tea expert on the team, it seemed only appropriate to give you something for making your favorite (non-alcoholic) drink - after all, you’ve brought me, your Secret Santa, more than a few drinks over the course of knowing each other!”

The hint, in Theo’s opinion, was almost painfully obvious; Loki brought Theo drinks all the time. Coffee at the hospital when he knew she had a long day. Whiskey or wine when she needed to unwind. Tea when it was late and neither of them could fall asleep. Water when Theo just used her inhaler and needed to rinse out her mouth. Throughout the entire time she had been an Avenger, Theo never saw Loki bring anyone else drinks quite so often - not Thor, not Wanda, not anyone. However, the clue made so much sense, and there was only one more day, so it wasn’t like she had to keep the secret for much longer. 

What Theo didn’t account for, however, was almost every other person in the room making the connection between the clue and the identity of Loki’s Secret Santa. Over a dozen pairs of eyes all trained in on Theo as Loki glanced down to set the card and gift aside; the heat of their stares nearly made Theo lose her composure.

When Steve asked if Loki knew who his Secret Santa was, he simply smirked and replied “I’ve my suspicions, but I find I rather enjoy the suspense and anticipation of the grand reveal.”

Somehow, she held it together, but just barely. Sure, Theo was grateful that Loki seemed to enjoy the gifts up to that point, but “suspense and anticipation of the grand reveal?” If Theo was under pressure before, now she was on the verge of being crushed under the weight of expectation, and the whole damn team knew it.

Theo shot a terrified look at Wanda, who only sent back an impish grin.

Shit.

One more day to go.

—

The final day of Secret Santa arrived, and with it, the grand reveal. Apprehension loomed over Theo’s head like a storm-cloud; after all, the pressure was on - not only to give the perfect gifts, but to set up the perfect reveal as Loki’s secret Santa.

Despite the overall success of the first four days, by the time the last exchange began, Theo was too nervous to sit down. Instead, she leaned against the kitchen island with her mug of hot chocolate and whiskey clutched in both hands, offering little more than one-word answers whenever someone tried to ask her something. The only time she even considered sitting down was when Loki asked if she would join him on the couch, but then all the potential ways she might make a fool of herself flooded her thoughts and she politely declined, claiming that she needed to stretch her legs a bit.

If Theo didn’t know better, Loki seemed disappointed that she didn’t want to sit by him, but it was probably her mind playing tricks on her; after all, Theo was the one with the crush, not Loki.

At least from across the room, Theo could easily admire Loki in his thick, fair isle sweater - seasonally appropriate, of course, but like all of his attire, it fit him perfectly and highlighted his long, lithe form in all the right ways. Between her nerves about the gift and how distractingly handsome Loki was, she barely noticed when the first two Avengers opened their gifts and found out who was assigned as their Secret Santa.

For the final night of the exchange, Loki was the third person to open his gifts.

While Loki focused on the large box in front of him, everyone else stared at Theo. If she could have, she would have melted into the floor; instead, she stood by the kitchen island with her mug of hot chocolate and whiskey in both hands, shooting dirty looks at the rest of the group so they wouldn’t give her away.

… Not like Loki hadn’t already figured out that Theo was his Secret Santa, because he likely knew. If he didn’t know, he was about to figure it out, but that was beside the point. 

Of all the gifts Theo chose, today’s were the most nerve-wracking because they were the most personal: the pre-reveal gift referenced something Loki gave her when she ended up in the hospital with an asthma exacerbation and pneumonia a few months prior. The post-reveal gift referenced the time all the Avengers visited New Asgard, and Loki took her on a late-night walking tour of the community.  

The note on the card was, well, maybe a bit too sentimental - in hindsight, maybe she should have saved the message for a later card that she could have given him in private. But by that point the card was taped to the box in Loki’s lap, and Theo couldn’t do a damn thing about it, other than brace herself for the inevitable fallout. 

At least she had the sense to write a disclaimer at the top of the note: “You might want to read this to yourself first, then decide if you want to read it out loud.”

After four days, Loki’s examination of the gift box had become a routine: turn it all around, lift it up in the air, give it a shake - and once he seemed satisfied, he peeled away the wrapping paper. 

“Well, I do not have any guesses as to what is inside this box, so I suppose I ought to open it.” Loki remarked, tugging away the last bit of wrapping paper. He conjured a dagger to cut the tape sealing the flaps at the top of the box, though he was careful not to cut deeply and risk damaging the contents inside (which was good, because that dagger would have sliced through the gift like hot butter). 

Unlike the previous days, where he immediately looked inside the container, this time he made a show of looking at the others as he reached inside. Theo watched Loki’s arm muscles tense through the wool of his sweater as he grabbed the gift, while his brows furrowed with confusion.

As he turned back toward the box, he slowly pulled out the present: a snake squishmallow, in green, of course - after all, green was his color.

“That’s cute!” Natasha commented, though Loki didn’t seem to notice. He held the plush toy in both hands, turning it side to side as he gave it a once-over. Theo swore she could spot the gears turning in Loki’s head as he tried to make the connection between the toy and his Secret Santa. 

“Yeah, but why? I don’t see the connection.” Yelena added, pointing at the card. “Open the card. I want to know what it says.”

Loki slowly set aside the snake, as if still thinking about the gift, and pulled out the note. 

Theo watched as Loki methodically scanned the note. At first, he read with heavy brows drawn tightly together; after a few moments, the light from the christmas tree reflected off his sea glass eyes, glittery and shining amidst the soft glow. A shaky, small smile grew as he made his way through the message until it practically took over his face.

“Well, what does it say?” Natasha asked, craning her neck to try and read what was written on the card.

Loki, however, ignored her. Without warning, he closed the card and rose to his feet. In a couple of long strides, he stood before Theo, who could no longer bite back her nervous smile as he drew near. 

Theo barely had a chance to set down her mug before Loki scooped her into his arms and crushed her in an embrace, the strength of which forced a small “oof!” out of Theo from the impact. She didn’t waste a moment before returning the embrace, selfishly nuzzling into his chest and drinking in the scent of cologne on his sweater - cedar, bergamot, and smoke - as they stood, arms wrapped around each other and swaying gently from side to side. 

Loki leaned down, his nose brushing gently along Theo’s hair, then drew a deep breath.

“Thank you,” he whispered in her ear. “Truly. Thank you.”

Theo’s heart damn near exploded. 

“Elsa, I really hope that Rapunzel’s your Secret Santa,” Tony, ever the troll, interrupted, “or this is going to get awkward.”

“Yeah, Tony, it’s me.” Theo laughed, her mind reeling as Loki shifted -  if Theo’s mind didn’t deceive her, his lips brushed against the crown of her hair. Still, he hadn’t let go, and as long as Loki held on, Theo had no plans of going anywhere.

“Now I wanna know what she wrote on that damn note,” Sam complained between shoving handfuls of caramel corn in his mouth. “Because damn, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Loki react like that.”

“Can we let him open the other gift first?” Theo asked, still hugging Loki as she looked over at Sam. “After all, there is a part of the message that won’t make sense without seeing the final gift.

“Fine, but afterwards I wanna read the damn note.” Sam grumbled and leaned back in his seat while Bucky leaned over and snatched some caramel corn from him. 

Theo begrudgingly pulled away from Loki, silently lamenting the lack of warmth that came with his touch. She rounded the Christmas tree and crouched down to where she hid the final box - a thin, rectangular box that was a bit larger than a poster - and brought it over to Loki, who had returned to his original seat. Theo sat down beside him, nervous but excited to see how he reacted to the last gift.

This time, Loki didn’t spend a moment examining the package - he went straight to tearing off the wrapping paper. With paper crumpled up and tossed aside, he carefully slid the lid off the box.

Centered on a bed of white tissue paper, was a painting - a canvas covered in thousands of small dashes of paint, the result of more than a few sleepless nights as Theo raced to finish the painting on a tight deadline. During the day, Theo hid it beneath a stack of other canvases so if Loki stopped by her suite, he wouldn’t notice; the moment night fell, Theo was elbows deep in oil paint as she added layer after layer of color.

“It’s New Asgard!” Thor exclaimed as he peered over Loki’s shoulder.

“Those are the gardens…” Loki breathed, one hand hovering over the canvas as if he wanted to touch it and prove to himself that it was real. 

“The gardens that you created, and that your people and countless tourists adore.” Theo added, her cheeks slightly pink. 

Loki’s focus went to the bottom corner, where Theo scrawled her name. It was tiny and borderline illegible because of the paint, but if someone had ever seen her handwriting, they would know instantly who it was. Loki traced his fingers over the letters almost meditatively.

“You made this?” When Loki looked up at Theo, she caught the slightest shine in the corners of his eyes, though his expression was nothing but pure awe. “Was this from memory?”

“God, my memory isn’t that good - I mean, yeah I painted it, but it wasn’t from memory,” Theo rubbed the back of her next, heat rising on her cheeks as Loki continued to gape at her. “I got Val to send me some pictures for reference, and then I worked on it every night after everyone was asleep. I wasn’t sure it would be done in time, if I’m honest, because oil paint takes forever to dry, but it dried just in time. The paint is still going to need some time to fully cure, so I’d be gentle with it.”

For the second time in minutes, Loki pulled Theo into another heartfelt embrace. 

“I am… I am speechless. I’ve no words, truly.” He laughed, a rumbling sound that Theo felt as much as she heard it. “Thank you.”

“Okay now we need to know what the hell was on that card.” This time it was Shuri, who looked like she was one step away from snatching the card and reading it out loud herself.

Loki unfurled his arms from around Theo so he could set the painting on the table in front of them, then retrieved the card.

“I think you ought to read it,” Loki held the card out to Theo, his cheeks now flushed with crimson. “I imagine it will sound better in your voice, since you wrote the message.”

Theo rolled her eyes, but accepted the card. She got the sense that Loki felt a bit sentimental himself, and was probably a bit out of his comfort zone; re-reading the message aloud might be more than he thought he could handle. So, despite her heart still fluttering like a goddamn school girl, Theo tried her best to steady her breathing, then cleared her throat and began:

One of Thor’s favorite stories to tell is when you were children and turned into a snake to trick him. One of my favorite things is watching the little smile you get every time he tells the story, like you know you shouldn’t think it’s funny and it makes the story even funnier. I bet you’re making that same smile right now as you think about the story!

This clue will probably give me away, but you once gave me a gift much like this - a plush toy of an unexpected creature, because you realized that the creature shared a connection to my sister. You didn’t make a big deal out of it - telling me you “happened to pass by a shop window and it just seemed like something I would like,” but it meant the world to me; to this day, it is easily the best gift I’ve ever received. 

In many ways, that gift is such a great example of why I am so lucky to have you as a friend - you are so incredibly thoughtful and kind, and when you sense that someone is having a tough time you go above and beyond to help, all without making a big deal about it… God knows you did that for me constantly when I first got here! There are, obviously, other reasons that you’re an amazing friend (your sense of humor, intelligence, and patience in putting up with me are also high on the list). 

I know none of my Secret Santa gifts have been big or flashy so far, and your final gift isn’t exactly big or flashy either. If I’m honest, I panicked when I drew your name because, well, what do you get someone who could have any gift they wanted? But the more I thought about it, the more I came back to just how lucky I was to have the gift of your friendship (yeah, corny as fuck, sorry - you’re the silvertongue, not me!). I can’t ever give you a gift that would compare, but I can at least make sure you know just how grateful I am for you and how much of a difference you make. Without a doubt, my life is better because you’re in it, as are the lives of many others. 

So, for your final gift, I made you something that I hope will remind you of not just the impact you’ve made on me, but the impact you’ve made on countless others, every time you see it. 

Merry Christmas Loki. 

Yours,

Secret Santa. 

P.S. I hope you can forgive my sentiment. Not all of us can be as cool as you.”

By the time Theo finished reading the message aloud, her entire body felt like it was on fire from the combination of her nerves and the others’ burning stares. With trembling hands, Theo slowly closed the card and set it on her lap, eyes focused downward the entire time.

“I didn’t realize it was possible to win at Secret Santa… ” Peter finally broke the silence, beaming as he looked at the pair. “... But I think Theo just won Secret Santa.”  

“I think everyone’s going to want you as their Secret Santa next year,” Steve chuckled, nodding along. “Still, we aren’t done with this year’s Secret Santa - I believe Wanda, you’re up next?”

With that, the attention shifted away from the two sorcerers sitting side-by-side on the couch, and onto the rest of the festivities. While Wanda made a scene trying to deduce clues about her gift, Loki casually slipped his hand over to Theo, interlacing his fingers with hers. In turn, Theo leaned her head on Loki’s shoulder and settled into his side.

By that point, she was only-half watching as Wanda opened one last gift. Frankly, Theo hadn’t heard who Wanda’s Secret Santa was, but she wasn’t that interested. 

“Merry Christmas, Loki,” Theo whispered, giving Loki’s hand a squeeze.

“Merry Christmas, Theo,” he murmured, turning so his lips brushed Theo’s temple. “I think this might be the first year that I’ve understood why one might enjoy Midgardians’ holiday festivities.”

Cozily tucked into Loki’s side, amidst the golden glow of the holiday lights and the spirited laughter of friends, Theo had to agree: maybe the holidays weren’t so bad after all.

[sombrashe]

COD Characters & Their Favorite Holidays

Gaz: Easter Holiday

He absolutely adores all the bright colored flowers that his church sets out every Easter Sunday

He may be a grown adult, but you will catch him absolutely demolishing some little kids at an Easter egg hunt

Ghost: Boxing Day

It's one of the only times where he can exchange his unwanted gifts he got from other holidays

He'll spend hours, sometimes days, going to the shops and trading out unwanted shaving creams (he can't even grow a beard ??) for things he actually needs like new socks

Price: The months of August-May

This man does not miss a single game, it doesn't matter if he's on active deployment or not he will not miss a football game

His team is always going to be Manchester United (he actually has a cousin that plays, but no one has to know that)

Soap: First Footing

Not sure if this is a real holiday but come on a holiday dedicated to being the first person in a house where the goal is to be seen as good fortune and he gets to bring a bottle of whiskey? Automatic winner

His dark locks and boisterous attitude always brings good luck for the year to his family, even baby Johnny would be forced to stand outside with his mama holding a much to large bottle of whiskey as he waits for midnight to strike

Alejandro: Benito Juárez Day

A day dedicated to a high ranking man who did so much for his country? Count him in

It's one of the few public holidays he actively participates in (even though he's usually armed and in uniform) and will take the time to honor the former president by participating in tournaments and winning each one

Rudy: Día del Niño

Rudy love's children, has always wanted a few of his own one day and 100% celebrates all the children that bring light and happiness to the country

He showers his nephews and nieces in toys, sweets, and shopping sprees and doesn't stop once they turn 18 he only stops once they're seen as a "high ranking member of society" according to him (they have to have a job and can support themselves without help)

Valeria: El Día de Muertos

It's not so much that it's a favorite holiday more so it's the only holiday she feels is worth celebrating

No matter what she is in the middle of doing, she will always stop and excuse herself for those two days and dedicate them to adding offerings to her ancestors ofrenda

Graves: INDEPENDENCE DAY RAHHHHHH 🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸 (Christmas Eve/Day)

THROWING TEA INTO THE HARBOR RAHHHHHH 🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🦅

(He's a family man, so a holiday dedicated to seeing family and spending time with them is right up his alley)

(He spends months saving up for this holiday so he can buy exactly what everyone wants so that he can make the holiday that much more special)

banner made by cafekitsune

[alphamalereviewsfanfics]

CAN YOU TASTE MY LUST? CAN YOU FEEL MY SIN? By Heartofhubris

SUMMARY: “But, the issue had arisen during your nights when he filtered into your dreams. Nights of imagining him taking you in the pews,laying you out on the dark woodtostrip you bare to his whims.
When you focused back into the Father, you felt your blush travel up to your ears. The thoughts would only offer more confessions, and you didn’t want to add in more sins you had to confess.
“We are all sinners,” Father Ford said.

Enjoy the sacrilege, you damn heathen

Priest Ford AU where he's aware of what he can do and he does it.”

PREGAME: Happy Easter my fellow alphas!!!!! My partner requested this one and I thought it would be silly if I was a bit sacreligious on this holiday because I kinda hate it 😎😎😎 not because of like the religious shit itself but like because the rabbit shit doesn’t compute in my brain and also because of how my family celebrates good ole Easter but what can you do. I’m not catholic, but I was raised pretty non-denominational Christian and I haven’t been to church since I was 10 so like I know nothing about this shit. I’ll take most of my knowledge from watching midnight mass so like if it’s insanely inaccurate to how this catholic shit goes then that’s not on me that’s on the author, who describes themself as “catholicphobic.” Also I only read this twice instead of my usual five times before reviewing so sorry if the review sucks ass that’s just the alpha way though.

REVIEW: When I was younger I desperately wanted to learn latin. I watched this Wes Anderson movie called Rushmore (it was an earlier one so it wasn’t filled with the crazy aesthetics he has now) and I was in love with the idea of taking Latin and going to a Latin club and reviving an almost dead language. It drove me mad and I would try to teach myself Latin with google translate (because duolingo and sites like that weren’t really a thing) and I learned all about the etymology of words in the English language and I was obsessed with it and I would tell everyone what the root of certain words was and it annoyed the shit out of people (especially my sister). Anyways the point of all this is that Latin is not sexy. And it never will be sexy to me. And I don’t know why I was so fucking hung up on the mention of latin because like there aren’t even any latin words in this fic!!!!! It just mentions it!!!! So moral of the story don’t be me. This is pretty well written though bro. The author succeeds with constructing a kinda like repentance vibe in the first few sentences. Like it feels like there’s nothing else to be written besides priest porn. Like that’s the end goal. Even if there wasn’t priest porn in it I would get the vibes of priest porn like just read the first few sentences l think Aw man this’ll either be some good religious horror novel or some killer priest porn. And I respect the hell out of that bro like it got the tone down bro. And like the porn itself is pretty well written like man I’m bewildered that the tone just fit so well bro like I don’t get it I’m baffled bro this is insane!!!!!! Like the porn was so well written bro it has tone and emotion to it you don’t get usually bro trust me. Anyways my partner said they were really into this fic and I gotta support them on that it was well written even if I find the father thing kinda silly but like I don’t know I’ve never tried it. Also priests are silly and I couldn’t see Ford into religion like characterization wise buuut I’m putting the mischaracterization aside because it’s just made for people who want to get off to priest ford pines and I gotta respect that. So if you’re into ford pines and you’re into priest shit this fine Easter Sunday then do some sacrilegious shit and read this fic

RATING: 6/8 fingers (BETA MALE STATUS)

Happy Easter and Ramadan and Passover and death anniversary of Margaret Thatcher my alphas 😎😎💪💪🔥🔥🔥

[anincompletelist]

some sentences sunday :D

HELLO FRIENDS!!!!! happiest of easter’s to those who celebrate! i hope everyone had a lovely day regardless 💛

thank you to @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @kiwiana-writes @suseagull04 @bigassbowlingballhead @captainjunglegym @heysweetheart-writes @magicandarchery @sunnysideprince @iboatedhere for the tags!!!!!! 🫶🏼

once again, unsure of sentence count but here is some of the last wip i worked on <3

+

Henry drums his fingers on the side of his glass, purses his lips. “I’ve been advised that I should— reacquaint myself with the touch of a lover.”

“Okay, lots to unpack there.” Alex blinks. “First off, do y’all have sex advisors? ‘Cause that’s definitely not something I thought existed but also like, good for you guys, that’s probably helpful. Also, again, you can just say ‘have sex’. I promise it’s just as descriptive and objectively less weird.”

“If you’re quite finished mocking me—”

“‘Reacquaint yourself’,” Alex echoes his words, the teasing in his tone giving way to something a bit softer. “How long has it been?”

+

i am a little late to the game today so please forgive me if you’ve already been tagged/posted! @firenati0n @wordsofhoneydew @nocoastposts @affectionatelyrs @read-and-write- @eusuntgratie @sparklepocalypse @happiness-of-the-pursuit and OPEN TAG i am running on very little sleep and mental capacity so hskjsksjsk <3

xx

[hatchetentertainment]

Hi there!

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IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT - 04/04/24 Hello loyal viewers! We'd like to begin by thanking you for your continued support even in light of previous events, and would like to reiterate that any information useful to the investigation of the students should be reported directly to us at Hatchetfield Entertainment. We're here to announce a short break over the Easter weekend, from Friday to Sunday. During this time, none of our services will be available. Easter is a time symbolic of rebirth, and we would like to bring this ideal into our productions from here on. Thank you all, and see you on Monday! Happy Easter to all who celebrate. IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT - 12/02/24 Everyone here at Hatchet Entertainment is heartbroken and mournful after the loss of six students chosen for a trip to out exclusive studios. We assure the public that any information about these children's whereabouts will be immediately reported to the HFPD, if and when it arises. We reject any claims that their disappearances were staged by the Industry, and will be taking the appropriate action against any individual or company who promotes such slander. As the children did not arrive at the studio at the time agreed with Hatchetfield Highschool, all knowledge of their location lies on the school, rather than us. Despite this, we are doing all we can to find these children and get them home. If you have any information on the following children, please report immediately to Hatchet Entertainment. Thank you for your co-operation:

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Ruth Fleming

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[edutainer2022]

I'm in a very complicated (non)relationship with faith and religion. Loss, grief, and war do a number on that. And I'm in a weird mood (also insanely busy). I would assume the Tracies too have a complicated (and different for each) relationship with faith and spirituality, in their line of work. It's Easter time. So here's a little Earth and Sky piece centered around that time of the year, memories, fears, and love, of course. All blatant parallels with religious symbolism are all on my agnostic self, I mean no disrespect whatsoever!

EASTER

Christmas was easy. Approachable. Christmas was always about family and snuggling, comfy pijamas and Lord of the Rings rewatch maraphons, and gifts for everyone, cinnamon, cocoa, decorations and garlands. Christmas was manageable even after Mom. Then after Dad. Never the same, but manageable.

Easter was weird... In their childhood Easter was always a whirl of colors and activities - egg die on every surface besides the eggshells, egg hunts on the farm and ranch, chocolate prizes, bright baskets, and laughter. And Mom. Always Mom at the center of it all, orchestrating and directing the colorful chaos. Mom told them stories. An Irish Catholic, Mom made a point to go to mass on Easter morning, although she didn't insist they go with. They usually did, dressed in Sunday best, even Gordie on his best behavior. There would be waffles and ice-cream on the way back from the church, and sprinkles in John's hair. With Mom gone the colors muted. The whirlwind stopped. The spring lost its promise. It felt almost a blasphemy to celebrate a resurrection after a loss they suffered. Scott tried to uphold the egghunts for Gordie, who barely remembered his with Mom, and for Allie, who didn't, but it fell flat.

Dad never much discussed spirituality with them. An astronaut, a war veteran, a widower, he held certain cards close to his soul. They grew up with boundless belief in scientific knowledge and answers to be pursued by scientific methods. If there were no answers this side of known universe, that meant the science was yet to catch up. They all helped with catching up a lot. As much as they grew up with boundless belief in each other (that and an elaborate array of superstitions, given their respective specializations). And a firm conviction Mom was an angel up in heaven, watching over them. It all made sense when a brother's comms were silent in the danger zone or a brother's hand was limp and cold over hospital covers. Unbeknowest to them, through the endless night alone in outer space, their father always had but one prayer: "Look after them, my love! Keep them all safe as I can't!"

In a rare arrangement of circumstances, they were all at the farm for Easter weekend, for a change. Some issues needed to be dealt with the estate. And it was an unspoken opportunity to visit Mom's grave. (And Dad's headstone over an empty casket, right next to her). Virgil found Scott at the backporch, seated on the stairs overlooking the meadow. Alone. As he suspected he would. Virgil would have been happy to just plop down and sit it out with biggest brother shoulder to shoulder till dusk, giving him room to just be and a friendly ear, should he want one. Scott had been in a mood all day, maybe all week. So much so even John was worried, who didn't get to observe Scott in his natural brooding state up close often. Biggest brother was obviously not forthcoming with any conversation starters. Virgil took his chances and nudged a flannel clad shoulder to his right. In their childhood home Scott always dug out old, broken in flannel, albeit in blue.

"I think about going to Mom's church tomorrow morning. You wanna come with?"

It was a multi-layered invitation and Virgil knew it. It would imply quality time away from the general mayhem for just the two of them, a chance to gather one's thoughts and to connect to Mom in a way that was special to her, even a chance to bring home a decent breakfast from the diner in the town, across the church. They would then all pack up in two cars, make a trip to the cemetery, pay their respects, and have an Easter dinner all together as a family. Virgil nudged his brother's shoulder again, looking up with hope. Scott's gaze was still far away.

"You wanna go to Easter mass?"

Virgil felt self-conscious suddenly. He loved the music and the spirit of celebration. Generally loved the idea of connecting to something bigger. Connecting to Mom. He tried another angle.

"You don't believe?"

Mom did - left unspoken over the evening meadow. Scott hummed at that, blue eyes finally landing on his brother. The sadness there left Virgil breathless.

"What? Whether a guy could resurrect in three days? I don't honestly know if I believe that, Virg. But I do believe one could die for all of himanity."

Dad did - another silent echo over the meadow.

That, right there, was Virgil's deepest fear. That one day Scott would leave him behind, crying and helpless, on the sideway of his own via dolorosa, dragging a crucifix through the dust and grime of a danger zone. By Dad's unspoken command.

"Please go with me to Mom's church tomorrow! We can have waffles after."

That was blatant food bribery (aka a tried and true way to get Scott to go to concerts and art galleries). But desperate times called for desperate measures.

Scott responded with an amused chuckle and lifted an arm to invite his brother into a hug. Virgil didn't need to be asked twice. Scott's old flannel shirt smelled of old machine oil from the farm tractor, fabric softener and the inextinguishable odor of his very first, hideous aftershave from way back in basic training. Virgil closed his eyes against the steady heartbeat. "My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from him."

[delopsia]

Thinking about Rhett and his Easter shenanigans...

It all started with Amy.

Easter celebrations ended the year Rhett turned ten, suddenly deemed to be too old to be enjoying the holiday as children do. Beloved Easter egg hunts and egg dying faded away into nothing but days of sitting in uncomfortable wooden pews and listening to the dronings of a preacher he forgot the name of. He forgets what it's like to wake up and run down to the kitchen in hopes that the Easter Bunny has paid him a visit.

Instead, he only associates Easter with one thing. Sneaking out with his father and Perry to buy Easter candy from the local Dollar General. His momma is a firm believer that such treats need to be earned; how are you meant to raise hard-working sons when you spoil them with sweet treats that they didn’t earn? But Royal’s got a wicked sweet tooth, and both of his sons have inherited it. While Cecelia is busy with her bible studies, her husband and two sons are buying candy and stashing it beneath their beds. Rhett always gets the bright pink Peeps, Perry yellow, and Royal blue. Jellybeans are too hard to hide, but cartons of chocolate-covered marshmallow eggs fit just fine.

Rhett's fifteen when Amy is born. Too little to really partake in Easter for the first two years, but on the third, the festivities come back in full force. Everyone has to sit down and paint at least six eggs each, then hide them around the house for Amy to find. It ends in tears, not because of anything necessarily going wrong, but because Amy’s upset that they couldn’t do it outside. The next year ends the same way because this time, it was outside, but the hunt was too easy for her.

The next year, Rhett’s hatched himself a plan. Armed with all the eggs Cecelia could find, both plastic and real, Rhett stays home from church and stashes those brightly colored eggs everywhere he can find. In the stable, behind saddle bags, and beneath shelves, in corners of the fences, and up in trees that Perry will inevitably have to climb up and get. A true hunt that puts Amy and her adventurous little heart down to work. He’s hidden fifty eggs, and Amy finds forty-nine.

When Perry’s head hits his pillow that night, he finds the fiftieth.

What problem they don’t predict is how out of hand Easter is about to get. Only becomes obvious when little Amy chatters her momma’s ear off about the hunt Uncle Rhett made for her and how she hopes it's harder this year. Royal’s not happy about his youngest being taken out of work just to hide a bunch of eggs, but Cecelia will let nothing come between giving her grandbaby the Easter she deserves. While Perry sweats up a storm and Royal curses the Spring heat, Rhett’s giggling to himself as he hides eggs in the most inconvenient of places.

It's a tradition that only grows in intensity because as the years pass, Rhett gets better at hiding them, and Amy gets better at finding them. But it doesn't stop there; no, she gets bored of the plainly colored eggs she's been dying with Grandma. She wants carefully painted eggs with patterns that take hours to complete.

You meet Rhett for the first time on Easter Sunday. Only there to visit a friend and attend the Easter brunch the local church is hosting, but instead, you find yourself fondly watching the sight in front of you. A messy-haired cowboy sitting in the back of his pickup, covered in splotches of vividly colored paint, as he and his niece paint her Easter eggs. Sweat beads at his pale forehead, exposed to the elements because he offered his beloved hat to Amy, more concerned about her than himself.

"I uh...hi?" He stammers around the paintbrush held in his mouth; the sun is blistering, but you don't think the red in his ears is from the sun.

Amy pokes her head up, a too-big cowboy hat falling into her face as she offers you a plain-white egg, "do you want to paint one?"

You think that watching Amy hunt for her Easter eggs is a one-time deal. That this is the only time you'll watch this stuttering mess of a man offer you one of the jellybeans that Amy's just stuffed into his shirt pocket.

Until the next year rolls around, and you're finding a bent Easter basket on your kitchen table, stuffed full of overly-sweet treats and topped off with a plushie of a cow wearing bunny ears. You haven't the slightest clue when or how Rhett snuck this in without you hearing it.

There's a plastic easter egg shoved in your toothbrush holder, a little note, and a candy hidden inside of it. 'Good morning, I love you! :)'

It's not the only one. There are four in your car and one in your purse; they're outside, hidden in your plants and in the crevices of the windows, beneath the sink, and balanced on top of door frames. Your living room is covered. No matter where you look, there are eggs filled with pieces of candy and shakily written notes.

"You must think you're real cute, huh?" Shaking the bag of collected eggs as you walk down the dusty Abbott driveway.

And Rhett just smiles, looking down at his feet as he shoves his thumbs into his pockets, "jus' a lil' bit."

After dinner, you find an entire bag of jelly beans shoved into your purse. The same bag Cecelia buys Amy every year because she thinks it's her favorite because it's the first thing that's gone every time. The same bag that Amy shuffles off to Rhett because she doesn't like them. Rhett doesn't even care for them, but he eats them anyway.

Like it did with Amy, the festivities only grow worse. You try to catch him in the act every year, but without fail, you wake up every Easter Sunday to a bunch of eggs sprawled about in the strangest of places. A lot of them are found, but when you're packing up to move into a place together, you find two dozen. Candy suspiciously dated but coupled with notes whose meanings never waver.

He gets an egg stuck behind the dresser one year; it's still there because you can't reach it, and the dresser is too hard to move. Living under the same roof as him is even worse because now he's even more familiar with the layout and all of the hiding spots that come with it. His carefully painted eggs all revolve around you; your favorite flower, your initials, your favorite color, and pattern. So intricately painted that it hurts you when it comes time to crack and put them to use before they go bad.

Amy's hunts never cease, going beyond the age of ten, because those Abbott rules never apply to Cecelia's beloved grandchildren. Every year it's the same, and every year you find yourself rolling your eyes as Amy finds the eggs in the most ridiculous of places. So far, your favorite has been the eggs found in the gutter, placed there exclusively to piss off Royal.

You know all of his hiding places now; after spending so much time with Rhett, it's become easy to figure him out. He goes for the crevices, his favorite being the places up-high and out of reach, and the eggs tend to match the place they're in. Never out in the open. Never visible at first glance.

That's why you're so confused when you get in bed and find an egg sitting there. Innocent, bright, and definitely wasn't there when you made the bed this morning. No, you would have noticed it.

When you pop it open, you find that the usual note is wrapped around the band of a dainty little ring. And in the shakiest handwriting, you've ever seen, it reads four little words that you could never have expected.

'Will you marry me? :)'

From the doorway, Rhett just giggles, as bashful as the day you met him, red ears, paint on his face and all.

You marry him that next Easter, not an egg in sight when you say your vows or when you lock lips for the first time as a newly wedded couple. Throughout the entire ceremony, you only find one egg. It's on top of the cake, and it's only there at your request. Suspicious.

"No eggs at all?" You find yourself chirping on your slow walk to the car. A cautious hand braces around your waist, ready to catch you if your tired, achy legs go out from beneath you. These shoes were pretty, but a hell of a mistake.

Rhett clears his throat, eyes darting toward the car. "No eggs yet."

It takes you three days to find the unholy stash of plastic eggs in the backseat.

[charkie-ee]

HAPPY (late) TRANS VISIBILITY DAY!!!!🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️

(have some juanaflippa to celebrate!!)

have a small doodle of our beloved juanaflippa!! i drew this rly quickly so sry its not super high quality. im still getting the hang of drawing flippa, so bear with me!!

w/o halftones under cut!

as a closeted fellow of the trans community, i was unfortunately not able to celebrate sunday.

HOWEVER, our beautiful egg daughter certainly can!!

i hope everyone who celebrated had a safe and fun day! & for those who couldn’t, just remember one day you WILL be able to! even if it’s not right now!!

🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵

(also happy easter i guess lmao)

[shizucheese]

Hey everyone! Happy Easter and Happy Purim if you celebrate them! I hope you all enjoyed the news we got out of PAX! I may or may not have literally screamed when I saw the Ark mount and Garnet and Zidane minions...

Tonight we're doing the final quest for the Ixals since I maxed out their final rank, and then we'll be doing the ARR Alliance quest!

After that, we're on the search for the resistance movement within Isghard in the hopes they're willing to help us if Aymeric doesn't return to the Vault tonight.

Speaking of the Vault....

...Idk how many people who follow me are actually familiar with the story of FFXIV but iykyk. Remember to smile everyone!

Catch me on Twitch every Sunday starting at 4:30 Central and every Tuesday and Wednesday starting at 7:30 Central! Miss a stream! Find my VoDs on YouTube!

[martsonmars]

Happy Sunday, friends! And happy Easter/bunny day/chocolate day/egg hunt day to those who celebrate <3

Thank you to everyone who keeps tagging me even though I keep going MIA, and thanks @hushed-chorus and @stitchyqueer for the tag today! I'm still struggling with writing, but this past week I started two new WIPs and had some ideas I'm really excited about, so I'm feeling a bit hopeful. Sharing something from both my new WIPs (so a thousand sentences and not 6) because I miss validation hahaha.

1. Story I started writing on Friday to process my feelings about something that happened that day. I don't know when I'll continue it because I need to be in the right headspace. This is the end of it, because it's the happiest part and that's what I needed to write 😂

“Right, sorry, I'll leave you to your...” He waves at the storage unit, and Basil can't blame him for the confusion. What do you call something like this? The physical trace of three generations of nostalgia and silences and grief piling up on the shoulders of one. “I'll leave you be.”

But no, this is wrong.

This isn't what Basil meant.

He cannot stay here alone with the ghosts of his past.

“Are you going home?” he asks Simon.

“Dunno,” Simon shrugs. His entire body goes along with it. It makes Basil hope. “Am I?”

That's an opening. An invitation. The chance for Basil to grasp the moment and let himself be.

“I need to eat so much cake that my stomach will hate me for a month,” he says, and Simon's entire face lights up like a kid's on Christmas morning.

“I know just the place.”

Second WIP and tags under the cut!

2. This one was supposed to be fun and flirty but for now it's mostly melancholy feelings. Sharing two snippets because I can't pick one hahaha.

Nine days since he showed up at their monthly showdown in an apron, his mask barely covering a flushed face and a halo of windswept curls making him look like a warrior angel come to bring an end to all sinners.

“Being a hero doesn't pay the bills,” he shrugged, yanking off the apron and throwing it off the roof. (His bicep flexed even more beautifully when it wasn't covered in red spandex.) “And not all of us have the luxury of daddy's money.”

‘Not all of us’ indeed, Baz thought, but he couldn't let the way those words were affecting him show. He couldn't stop embodying the image of the perfect villain he'd worked so hard on, or what would be left?

//

This shouldn't surprise Baz either. It doesn't.

Of course this is the kind of place that would make him feel at home, because isn't it what heroes do?

The real heroes, not the ones hiding in comic stripes and showy clothes and sensational acts that break more than they fix. Not the untouchable ones.

But the heroes who know that the only way to change the world in a way that matters is to hold out a hand when people fall even though you can't fix the bumps in the road that made them falter.

To help them stay afloat and swim to shore even though you can't relieve them from the weights that are sinking them down.

I hope I can finish this one soon!

@wellbelesbian @urban-sith @tea-brigade @sillyunicorn @mostlymaudlin @facewithoutheart @palimpsessed @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @johnwgrey @fatalfangirl @prettylightsbigcity @whatevertheweather @confused-bi-queer @moodandmist @bookish-bogwitch @letraspal @dragoneggos @captain-aralias @takitalks @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @gekkoinapeartree @bazzybelle @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @basiltonbutliketheherb @ivelovedhimthroughworse @nightimedreamersworld @artsyunderstudy @ionlydrinkhotwater @yellobb @orange-peony @ic3-que3n @whogaveyoupermission @yeonjunenby @erzbethluna @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @shrekgogurt @raenestee @onepintobean @theearlgreymage @technetiumai @jbrrring @brilla-brilla-estrellita @thewholelemon @theimpossibledemon

[trash-magics-blog]

Father, Son and Holy Ghost

* I just kinda winged the whole thing, if you want leave tips and stuff, anything is appreciated! *

The day was Easter Sunday and the church was having a celebration. You were hanging out with your friends Johnny Mactavish and Kyle Garrick, you had known the two from serving time in the army, thankfully you and the rest of your team had gotten time to come back to town and celebrate Easter with everyone, it was something you didn't really get to do much so it meant a lot to you and everyone else.

As everyone was mingling and the kids were playing and the sun was shining, you noticed a certain someone wasn't anywhere to be seen outside celebrating. Simon Riley, the high priest of the church. You had talked to him after almost every congregation and you quite liked him, everything about him. He was a rather quiet man and always wore a black face mask but no one ever questioned it so you didn't either.

As you were eyeing around for Simon, Johnny had caught you searching, “Who ya lookin for lass?” His accent always seemed to make you smile. “Father Simon, have you seem him anywhere?” You asked, to which Johnny suggested to look in the church and that he was probably cleaning up from the early morning assembly.

You started to make your way inside but before you could make it some of the kids had called to show you the eggs they decorated, the kids were your friend Alejandro’s nieces and you loved them as your own, always dreaming of having your own kids, your own family, one to call your own. As you were playing with the kids and laughing with them a pair of unnoticed eyes had been watching you.

Simon was standing at an upstairs window that lead into his office. He liked to keep a close eye on you whenever he could and plus, the sundress you were wearing peaked his interest, yellow always looked good on you. He noticed how happy you had seemed with the kids as well, he always wondered how he would be as a dad, as a husband.Your husband. He wanted to love you so bad.

As he left the window all his mind could trail back to was you, you and that damned sundress, it hugged your body just right and the way your hair fell ever so messily around your face just made him crave you in every way. He loved you, your voice, your presence and just how gentle you were with him, the simple little things that you did made him weak.

Before he knew it he had a certain, problem… he was sat back at his desk and needed to relieve this pain. Simon had never really thought about touching you, or himself to the thought of you before but right now, it was all you and you only. The thought of you, down on your knees below his desk, face all fucked out and throat sore from his cock. He had shamelessly started to palm at his erection. The thought of you being sat oh so prettily on him while you fills out papers, your little whimpers and moans… oh how Simon needed to touch you and feel you.

“Ah fuck..” Simon couldn't take much more, even though he wasn't even like, fully touching himself he was still so overstimulated at just the thought of you. One last stroke to his erection and he was gone, as he came he let out broken moans and whimpers. Simon was a sweaty mess by now, and he felt embarrassed. How could he do that in the church, the church of which he is the high priest of. As much as he resented it, he also felt oddly prideful, if he must kneel and repent to any holy being to be let into heaven now, it was gonna be you, for you are the most holy and heavenly being to him. To Simon, you were heaven and he would go to confession a hundred times over to just get a glimpse of you.

[sarifinasnightmare]

Something for Herself

Rating: For Everyone

Summary: Sarah rarely get to have anything for herself.

Author's Note: Sorry, I'm currently not okay and I've been focusing on my health, but I got back to Tumblr and remembered the writing prompt. This isn't much but I wanted to contribute something.

Prompt: I think it looks nice.

During the five years that Sarah struggled to keep her family afloat, she sacrificed so much of herself. The last time she pampered herself, gave herself a break or just bought something for herself was before her husband passed away from cancer. She had dedicated herself to help him with his treatment and then he died. Then Sam got in trouble with the Avengers. Then a hurricane almost sank the boat. Then the Blip happened, and money became even tighter. She could no longer think about her needs and had to focus on everything else.

When Sam came back he quickly sussed things out and wasn’t pleased to see how cheaply his sister had treated herself. The minute he came into some money he got her a little gold necklace with a small plump heart at the center. “Filled with love, that’s what you are.” He said when he gave it to her.

Sarah decided to wear her new gift on Easter Sunday but none of her dresses looked good enough so she went to some thrift shops to see if anything would do. As much as she would’ve wanted a new dress, growing boys went through clothes like tissues, so she was still limited in funds. Eventually she found something acceptable; a plain, yellow cold shoulder dress that she cinched at the waist so it fit her properly.

Easter was a happy affair. Sam came down so people were excited to see how the new Cap was doing. He announced the egg hunt which sent the kids bounding into the wide-open lawn looking for brightly colored, candy filled plastics before taking tons of pictures and allowing himself to be cooed over by the ladies.

Meanwhile Sarah rolled her eyes at it all and focused instead on manning the dessert table.  Her sons were off messing around with their friends, no doubt dragging Bucky with them to join the fun. He hadn’t been back to Delacroix since the last celebration. Apparently, the government had been keeping him busy. They had barely got to speak before other things parted them, but Sarah had to admit that he looked nice in his blue jeans, white t-shirt and black jacket, although it was a bit too hot for it. He had stared at her, looking as if he had wanted to say something before her sons got a hold of him and whisked him away.

So far things have gone well. The kids were checking their eggs, the adults were sitting around on the beautiful April day eating and conversing while she and the other volunteers organized and store the leftovers.

“Hey.”

Sarah looked up and saw Bucky standing in front of the nearly empty dessert table with his hands shoved in his pockets offering a timid smile.

She smiled back. “Hey got a sweet tooth? Still have a bit of pies left.”

“Uh no…I had some earlier…”

“No, you didn’t. I’ve been here all afternoon and I never saw you.”

“You didn’t…Yeah, you’re right. Don’t know why I said that.”

“You want to try some then or you don’t have a sweet tooth?” She asked kindly.

Bucky shrugged. “I used to, before. Most things nowadays taste overly sweet.”

“Mm, I imagine sugar back then wasn’t as processed.” She mused. “How about something light then?”

“Actually, I came here because I wanted to talk to you.” He blurted out.

She straightened. “Did the boys do anything?”

“No, no! They’re great. They’ve done a lot to make me feel welcomed and no doubt it’s because they’ve had such an amazing role model like yourself.”

She grinned. “Why thank you, Bucky, that’s very sweet of you.”

“I also wanted to say that you look very beautiful in that dress today.” He added.

A flush of heat swept over her cheeks, and she laughed. “You’re kidding. This old thing?”

“Is it old? I can’t tell. I mean I don’t pay much attention to the fashion nowadays but I like this.” He swept his gaze over her openly. “I think it looks nice.”

His gaze made her stomach tremble, and she fingered the simple fabric of her skirt, then shrugged. “It’s just an old thing I found at a thrift shop. I liked the color.”

“It makes you look bright…and happy.” He cleared his throat a bit. “I was wondering if you would wear it again if I took you to dinner.”

Her heart suddenly decided to freefall to her feet. He had spoken to her in a flirty manner once before and now here he is trying again. Dare she return the favor? “I-I mean I could wear it again…if you’re asking me out to a romantic dinner.”

He caught on and started to grin. “You’re in luck. I specialize in romantic dinners.”

“I’m glad one of us does. I haven’t had any type of romance in nearly a decade.” she admitted.

“Are the men of this town dead? I noticed you since the first time and yeah your brother threatened me not to flirt with you, but,” he sighed, “I can’t help it. You’re too beautiful to pass up.”

The blush spread from her cheeks down to her toes and she lowered her head modestly. “Flattery will get you somewhere At least with me.” She smiled sweetly. “I’ll call you.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait.” Bucky agreed with a matching smile.

A date with a man cute enough to make her heart skip a bit.  She couldn’t dare pass it up, besides she deserves something for herself.